Jeongin Academy, the Specialist Reform School (1)
I stared in surprise at the Emperor entering the pavilion in plain clothes.
Our eyes met—his as he came in, mine as I stood on the upper floor.
I moved to bow at once, but he shook his head. Pretend you don't know, it meant.
A glance around him revealed six highly skilled guards in attendance.
With that kind of protection, safety wasn't a concern.
Everyone in his entourage was in disguise, so no one else realized who they were.
Except for me.
Honestly, who would even imagine the Emperor showing up here?
I sighed inwardly and turned to Poet Song Lok.
"Do you remember everything in the contract you signed, Poet Song?"
"Of course."
"Including the clause about maintaining dignity?"
He nodded at my question.
"I trust you'll handle it yourself."
"I'll be careful."
"You've had your breath of fresh air—now go enjoy the party. Plenty of people are waiting for Poet Song."
"Ah, right. I'll head back to my seat then."
After sending him off, the one who approached my spot instead was the Jegal Supreme Patriarch.
Still as spry as ever.
"Enjoying the party?"
He chuckled heartily at my question.
"Thanks to you, I've had a wonderful time—and still am. Honestly, I never expected to be called as a judge for the Poetry Contest."
"Your reputation made it unanimous—no objections."
"Haha, all those literary guests I've hosted over the years have paid off."
He glanced at the newcomers who had just arrived and sat nearby, then sent a sound transmission.
"Is that His Majesty the Emperor?"
How did he know? I thought they'd hidden it well.
"You're wondering how I knew, aren't you?"
"Yes. Especially since his face is hidden behind those guards."
"Think about it. In Beijing, right under the imperial palace's nose, how many people travel with escorts of that caliber?"
Ah, got it.
I nodded.
"But are their guards really that strong?"
"From what I see, two are Super First-rate warriors. And there's one more in the Transcendent Realm, hidden out of sight."
"……."
Not content with two Super First-rates, he even had a Transcendent Realm warrior as a guard!
It hit me anew just how formidable the Emperor was.
But to detect even the Transcendent Realm guard... did that mean the Supreme Patriarch himself was in the Transcendent Realm?
"Coming here incognito and taking seats like that—they must be the targets."
The Jegal Supreme Patriarch sent the transmission while eyeing the eight poets exchanging drinks.
I nodded slightly.
As I'd guessed earlier, a few of them would receive the Emperor's decree.
"By the way, when do you plan to head back to Hubei Province?"
"In about three or four days."
"I see. I'm leaving tomorrow."
"Not staying longer?"
"I prefer the warmth."
Fair enough—compared to Hubei with its Mount Bokryong, Beijing's weather was brutally cold.
Being so far north and all.
"That's right! This country is rotten to the core!"
A sudden shout rang out.
I whipped around in alarm. One poet had leaped to his feet, slamming the table.
Was that something to say in front of the Emperor?
Ah...
They didn't know he was here...
Poet Song Lok soothed him gently from nearby.
"You've had too much to drink."
"Isn't it true, though? The people are starving without grain, while landlords live it up!"
I sighed as he ranted on in righteous fury.
Guess I'd have to step in.
With Young Master In Gye-seong gone on business, I was the only host left.
I approached and said, "I understand your feelings, but please lower your voice. It's rude to those around us."
"Is that the issue right now?"
He sneered at me.
"Figures—a money-grubbing merchant like you wouldn't know what's truly important."
This bastard...
Song Lok and the others gasped and tried to restrain him.
"What kind of talk is that?"
"Apologize at once!"
"Sorry, Young Master Eun. He's had too much..."
"Apologize? Did I say anything wrong?"
He pressed on, glaring at me.
"The people's hunger is partly your fault—merchants like you go bloodshot-eyed for profit, hoarding whatever you can!"
Not entirely wrong.
Sure, some merchants chased money blindly.
Selling fakes, gouging with insane markups, causing harm.
But conscientious merchants far outnumbered them.
That's what kept the empire running. Without merchants circulating goods, people would be stuck with local produce forever.
No candy for northerners their whole lives.
No quality southern iron tools up north.
And he'd been talking down to me rudely from the start—annoying.
But advising a drunk? Pointless.
I sighed. "You seem quite intoxicated."
The judges nearby stood, backing me up.
"Best to call it a night."
"Yes, agreed."
I bowed to them. "Sorry for the disturbance."
"No need—why blame you, Young Master Eun?"
"Calling the Seonhyeopmirang that..."
"Exactly. The fool's ignorant and spouting nonsense."
The man bellowed, "Ignorant of the world? Who's the one blind to it—you fake gentleman!"
"……!"
Wi-gunja.
A pretentious "gentleman." To scholars, the ultimate insult.
Ugh, I hated types like this.
Especially drunk rabble-rousers—hopeless.
Reason flew out the window.
The Emperor watched with keen interest from the side, curious how I'd handle it.
Sigh.
I apologized to the scholar instead. "Don't take it to heart. Drunk ramblings."
"Hmph! Hmph."
"Leave this to me."
Turning to the fool, I said, "That was truly moving, watching your heroism. Such spirit!"
"Hahaha! I do have that effect!"
"Here, have a drink on me."
I sat him down and poured.
Flattered, he accepted.
I kept pouring, listening intently to his impassioned nonsense.
Onlookers watched in baffled silence.
"Oops, I've poured too much. You okay?"
"Of course! Sober as can be!"
"Good. Say, there's a way to show everyone your bold generosity—interested?"
"Huh? What is it?"
"You pay today's bar tab. It won't be much. Perfect chance on a night like this—declare it, and they'll cheer."
"R-Really?"
"Yes, absolutely."
I coaxed him gently, and he bit.
"Fine! I'll cover it!"
"Really...?"
"Really! Done!"
"Sorry, but I can't quite trust promises—I've been scammed before..."
"Tsk, how gullible."
"So, how about a written pledge?"
"Sure!"
Palgap swiftly provided brush and ink. With fancy calligraphy, he wrote that he'd pay the full tab and signed it.
I, Im Man-gu, shall pay the full bar tab for today at Hong Eun-ru.
"Thank you so much."
I announced loudly.
"Everyone! Im Man-gu here will cover today's tab!"
"What a great guy, right?"
I sent a sound transmission to Palgap and the guards.
Cheer.
They roared approval, and others joined in hesitantly.
Im Man-gu, pleased, waved lightly.
He drank toasts from admirers until he finally face-planted on the table, out cold.
I grinned.
"Server!"
"Y-Yes!"
"Charge everything eaten and drunk here today to Im Man-gu over there."
"Got it."
"If he balks, send him to the Eunhae Merchant Group Beijing branch with this signed pledge."
"Understood."
Song Lok asked worriedly, "I-Is this okay?"
"Yeah, fine."
"But..."
"Did I trick him?"
He scratched his head after thinking.
"Uh, no."
"Then what's the problem?"
The insulted judge gaped at me. "That's revenge for you."
"Guess us lowly merchants are petty and spiteful."
"Thanks."
"Just settling my score."
Palgap chimed in. "I've decided, young master."
"What?"
"I'll never make an enemy of you."
The others nodded in agreement.
Today's tab? Pocket change for me. But for Im Man-gu?
Drunks causing scenes are hopeless—reason gone.
Handle them simply: Get 'em drunker, sleep it off, wake to a hangover-from-hell bill.
Easy with hero types like him.
I'd clocked it when he ranted about the rotting country and starving masses.
Rice for booze ain't cheap...
Whining that while drinking? Bullshit.
His clothes and shoes screamed money—ever helped the poor? No way.
Hot-air hypocrites don't spend their own cash.
Tomorrow morning, Im Man-gu's hangover plus massive bill—what a wake-up.
At least it's an honor.
Who else buys the Emperor drinks?
Glancing at him sipping away, he smirked back at me.
Sipping that very expensive liquor...
Wait...
.
.
.
We prepared to leave Beijing.
Off to Hubei Province tomorrow morning.
Today was my last chance to train Imperial Palace Martial Arts before maybe never returning.
"Frankly, I've never seen anyone progress like you."
I clasped hands in respect to Jin Yeong Daehyeop. "You're too kind."
"No, I mean it."
Beaming, he continued. "When will you return?"
"When the weather warms, probably."
"April, then."
"Likely."
He pulled a letter from his robe and handed it over.
[To My Son]
"You're stopping by that academy, right?"
"Ah, yes."
"For Yeon-sik."
Right—the Gold Guard warrior's delinquent son had enrolled there last time.
"Got it."
"By the way, I haven't wronged you somehow, have I?"
"Pardon? What brings that up?"
"Lately, Im Man-gu's the hottest gossip in the palace."
"Ah..."
"Even His Majesty warned not to make an enemy of you."
I chuckled. "Self-inflicted."
Word was, he was selling assets to pay the tab. Collecting bar debts was their specialty.
Should've just drunk quietly.
Not a total fool, though—probably realized what matters now.
"Oh, what about those assassins?"
"All rounded up."
"Good. Beijing'll be a bit safer."
"I owe you again."
"No need for formalities between us."
"Glad you say that. Safe travels."
The next day.
We left Beijing.
Song Lok's family joined us, plus five warriors heading back to headquarters.
The carriage had a brazier—nice and toasty.
Ten days later, we reached Henan Province's outskirts.
We took rooms at an inn, and Brother Jeong Ho and I headed out with escorts.
We arrived at a building.
Its entrance bore a plaque.
Jeongin Academy
This was Jeongin Academy, the specialist reform school.
But...
"Ho? Who's this?"
What brings you here?