Journey to Yichang - 2
The budget was razor-thin.
I left the guest room with Dang Hwarin, ordered a meal, and sat there idly fingering my lightened money pouch, lost in thought.
I do have a little extra stashed away.
I was carrying a second emergency pouch I had never shown Dang Hwarin. Ever since money had started coming in, I had lived by the same 3-3-3 rule I used back on Earth.
Living expenses three. Savings three. Gacha three. The absolute basics every working adult needed to know.
I can’t dip into the emergency pouch just to roll the gacha that is writing a novel.
There was no telling what might happen while I was busy writing. The right move was to finish this trip using only the living-expenses pouch if I could help it.
Which meant I needed to earn money.
The problem was that this was a backwater village—nowhere near a good place to work as a Maedamja.
Generosity only comes out of a full granary. Even charity needs money first. Doing the job in a place like this almost made me wonder if I should just wait and work somewhere else instead.
And she keeps glaring at me without the slightest idea how troubled I am.
You. Yes, you, Dang Hwarin.
“…….”
Ever since we left the guest room she had been staring at me in total silence.
Awkward.
If I could slap a comic-book effect behind her, I would have drawn a swirling blizzard of cold air.
What was I supposed to say?
It’s a misunderstanding. My brain put up fierce resistance, but my lower half issued an override command and the whole system glitched. Honestly, once that magnificent pair filled my entire field of vision, how was any man supposed to hold out?
No.
It’s not my fault. Humans may be rational animals, but we are also animals of libido—so said the famous Joseon psychoanalyst, Professor Fr.
Forget it. Every excuse sounded pathetic.
Better to just play completely dumb.
If I kept smiling, she couldn’t spit on me, right?
Kang Yunho has absolutely no idea why Dang Hwarin is staring at him without a word.
“Haaah.”
She kept looking at my smiling face, then let out a long, deep sigh.
“Why the sigh first thing in the morning?”
“You think I have a choice?”
She glared hard enough that I almost heard a crackle. Wasn’t that a bit much? Had I touched anything? Had I even leaned closer?
All I did was look at those plump poison sacs that looked springy yet soft, so grand that one touch might send a man straight to paradise. Honestly she ought to be praising my self-control.
But making excuses was for amateurs. I had to keep pretending ignorance.
I simply kept smiling at her.
Why does she look so haggard this early? And what’s with the dark circles under her eyes?
Perfect. Subject change.
“Did you not sleep well?”
I asked with genuine concern written all over my face.
“……Huh?”
“Was the bed uncomfortable? I slept fine.”
Unfamiliar bedding could keep anyone up. Maybe that was her type.
“It wasn’t the bed that kept me awake…….”
“Hmm? Then what?”
“……Never mind. Haaah. If I’m the only one thinking that kind of thing, then I really am a crazy bitch.”
She sighed as if disgusted with herself.
What on earth was she thinking?
When my puzzled expression made it clear I had no idea, she seemed to convince herself of something and the hardness left her face.
“Food’s here!”
I had completely forgotten to bring water because of the atmosphere.
“Hold on, I’ll grab some water.”
I told her and started pushing my chair back.
“Sit. I’ll get it this time.”
Dang Hwarin rose faster than I did and fetched the water bottle herself.
“Ooooh. Trust points, plus one.”
She had watched me once and already knew what to do. Adorable. I held up one finger toward her.
“Bullshit. What are you even talking about.”
She looked half-exasperated, then let out a short snort of a laugh.
See? Once she smiles the mood lightens right up.
Now I could finally swallow my food in peace.
“Are we leaving right away?”
Dang Hwarin asked once the meal was finished.
“I’m thinking of doing one day of Maedamja work here before we go.”
You don’t start worrying about money after it runs out; you prepare when the plan already shows a shortfall.
“If you’re hesitating because of me, just do it.”
“No, it’s not that. This village is just too backward.”
“Why does that matter?”
“Even if I use Yojeonbeop in a place full of old folks and rundown houses, the odds of making any real money are low.”
Of course, if you worked the collection perfectly you could still squeeze something out. The real problem was when most of the audience was either stingy about paying or so hard-up they could barely scrape by day to day. Big earnings then became a distant dream.
It would work if Dang Hwarin helped, though.
I actually knew a method that could pull money even out of a desolate village like this. But I couldn’t ask her for help first.
For the relationship to stay equal, it has to stay a give-and-take.
I was the sponsor. She was the bodyguard. Together we were traveling companions heading for the same destination. If I stretched out a hand and asked her to help me earn a few coins, the balance would tip and the whole carefully built relationship would warp.
No point wrecking something hard-won over a handful of change.
“Hey. Kang Yunho.”
“Yeah?”
She called me with energy, then suddenly looked embarrassed, fidgeting with her fingers.
“Um…… is there anything I can help with?”
Even after saying it she couldn’t meet my eyes, staring at her own restless hands instead.
Huh? Dang Hwarin is volunteering first?
That changed everything.
“You really want to help?”
I caught both of her hands between mine so I wouldn’t miss a word.
“Hey! Why are you grabbing my hands!”
“Are you going to help?”
“Ugh…… fine. I said I’d help!”
Flushed, she glanced back and forth between our hands and my face, then finally nodded.
“Then, Dang Hwarin. Work with me on something.”
If I could just use the method I had in mind, wringing money out of this village would be child’s play.
Late afternoon. On the road to the village square.
“Are you really going to do this?”
Dang Hwarin asked again in a nervous voice.
“Just trust me.”
“I feel uneasy.”
She eyed me with open suspicion.
“I’ve been a Maedamja for years. Stop worrying.”
“Years?”
“Well…… not quite a full year yet, probably.”
I answered with a grin.
“Haaaaah. Am I actually allowed to trust you?”
She heaved a long sigh and followed me with dragging, unconfident steps.
“Cheer up! Once today’s work is done I’ll add ten trust points!”
I tossed out a silly joke to boost her morale.
“Haa. What are you even saying…… Wait, what’s the max score for that?”
I had never actually thought that far. It was just the kind of score you hand out like a camp counselor running recreation games.
Bantering like that, we soon reached the village square.
“A Maedamja is here!”
“Grandpa! They say a Maedamja came to our village!”
“Heh-heh. Is that so, little one? There he is. How long has it been since the last one?”
“Old man, scoot your butt so I can sit!”
“My joints ache—I need a proper seat.”
“Like yours are the only ones that ache!”
The square was packed with people.
“Good thing I slipped the inn girl a little extra.”
“Yeah.”
Dang Hwarin looked stunned at the crowd, then agreed with me.
After breakfast I had given a friendly-looking inn girl some money and told her to spread the word that a Maedamja had arrived; if enough people showed up I would double what I gave her. It had worked better than expected.
I stepped up onto the low platform that had been prepared for the rare performers who visited the village.
“Greetings, everyone! I am Kang Mo, a Maedamja from Joseon!”
Snap! I flicked open my trademark folding fan, drawing every eye exactly as planned.
“Heh-heh. A barbarian Maedamja, eh? Looks like we’ll get some interesting foreign tales.”
I slowly scanned the audience.
Old folks and children, men who looked like poor farmers, village wives. A few better-off faces were sprinkled in, but most people looked hard-pressed.
Normally the odds of big money from a crowd like this would be low. Normally.
The plan starts with the material.
“The tale I bring you today is ‘Young Master Hamurin Who Avenged His Grandfather’!”
A village we would leave after a single day. No need to dig up some brand-new story tailored to their tastes. Better to take a proven money-maker and season it with just the right variations.
Since the elderly made up a large share of the crowd, I simply changed the murdered father into a murdered grandfather and launched into the tale.
“He killed my own father?! That unfilial monster!”
“Anyone can see the uncle’s a dirty bastard!”
“That uncle scum! Probably the same kind of son who chased skirts, messed with another man’s wife, and ran off to some other village!”
“The eldest grandson is supposed to carry on the ancestral rites, but the whole inheritance went to that piece of trash!”
The moment I said the uncle had murdered the grandfather instead of the father and seized the family fortune, the old people’s reactions ignited.
A perfect setup for immersion: the worthless second son, the upright grandson, and the betrayal of the belief that “even if my own kids are unreliable, at least the eldest grandson will take care of my ancestral rites.”
How could they not get angry?
Time for step two.
“The Ha family fortune is filthy money that belongs to those filthy wretches. I cannot spend dirty money to avenge my grandfather. O Heaven!! Will you not grant me travel funds!!”
Yojeonbeop time. I took the collection bowl and began weaving through the audience.
“…….”
Ice-cold. Every gaze slid away from me.
I had expected as much.
A backwater like this didn’t start tossing coins the moment the bowl appeared.
“O Heaven!! Without travel funds I cannot even reach the place where my grandfather was murdered!!”
Not that I was the type to give up.
Want the story to stop? No matter how much you hate opening your purses, if the bowl isn’t full I’m not going back on stage, folks.
“Heh-heh! These people have no heart! Here’s some—go avenge him quick!”
“I don’t have much, so just this little bit!”
“Hurry up and avenge your grandpa!”
“That should buy you a snack at least, right?”
One old man tossed money as the representative, and others began tossing coins after him. Still, it was far less than what I had pulled in Chilgok County.
I already factored this in.
I had known from the start that Yojeonbeop alone wouldn’t strike gold here. No reason to be disappointed.
It was all part of the plan.
On to step three.
I climbed back onto the platform and resumed the performance.
“I found the evidence. Yet the travel funds are far too little!!! I cannot even sleep in a proper inn, and I no longer remember the last time I ate my fill.”
I shook the nearly empty bowl, making it clear that the hero’s hardship was the audience’s fault.
“Just give him the money already!”
“You forget what happened last time when we stiffed a Maedamja and he just left for another village?”
“He’s not gonna collapse and end the story by dying, is he?”
So this wasn’t their first time. Uneasy murmurs rose among the crowd.
Don’t worry. Only amateurs quit and leave just because the money isn’t coming.
“The long journey has left me exhausted. So tired! My body weighs a thousand catties, my heart ten thousand.”
I slumped my shoulders and shuffled across the platform, then raised one clenched fist high overhead.
A signal for the person waiting in the wings.
“Look out!”
From somewhere a woman’s warning cry—belonging to a certain poison-sac beauty of the Central Plains—rang out, and a hidden weapon trailing a red cord flew in and struck my body.
“Ugh!”
I doubled over as if the weapon had dealt me a grievous wound.
“What? Where did that come from?”
“Someone threw a hidden weapon at Hamurin!”
“Show yourself! What kind of nonsense is this!”
People started rising from their seats in alarm.
No, no—please remain seated.
“No! An assassin sent by the uncle has thrown a hidden weapon!”
Relax, everyone. It’s acting. I lifted the red-corded weapon so they could see and settle down.
Where the hell is Dang Hwarin?
She said practice reverse-edge throwing weapons don’t hurt. They hurt like hell.
Never trust anyone who claims reverse-edge blades are safe.
“Oh, so it was all staged.”
The crowd relaxed and sat back down.
The board is set. Time to begin.
“Thankfully it missed any vital point!!! But to have an assassin appear when I am this exhausted!!! What if he throws another hidden weapon? What in the world!!! Am I supposed to do!!!”
“Maybe he should just sleep?”
“You fool—if he sleeps the assassin will come and finish him off!”
“If you’re tired you sleep. What other choice is there?”
“Hooo. Tired yet forced to stay awake. No answer for that.”
The people began lamenting the impossible situation.
There is a way, elders.
A way to cure Young Master Hamurin’s fatigue.
A way to fix the crisis in my own empty pouch.
Think a backward village means people won’t open their wallets?
The old masters already left us the perfect method for moments exactly like this.
Everyone feels tired all the time, don’t you?
“I foresaw this very moment!!! And so I brought with me!!! From the far-off Sichuan Dang Clan!!! A fatigue-recovery tonic!!!”
Ta-da! Your friendly Joseon medicine peddler has arrived for the sake of your health.