Abolition of the Wicked - Chapter 3

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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#Episode 3

Five buildings within a single compound could be completed in five days. A log cabin of roughly thirty pyeong sat at the center, with four structures arranged around it like a protective embrace.
Geom U-bin emerged from the central building and drew the dawn air deep into his lungs. Beyond the reed marshes, the scent of the river drifted past on the breeze—a fragrance that tickled pleasantly at his nose.
From the northern house, Do Pyeong-su opened the door with a yawn.
“Senior Brother. Why are you up so early? Get some more rest.”
“Today’s my first day of work. Did you forget?”
“Ah, I told you—you don’t have to work.”
“If I can’t sell the liquor the disciples made, I’d feel terrible about it. Of course I need to learn the trade. I’ll be back soon!”
Geom U-bin strode out purposefully, and Do Pyeong-su followed close behind. Few Murim martial artists would know they’d settled on the outskirts of Hangju, but one always had to account for the one-in-a-million chance.
‘Senior Brother needs to grow stronger quickly.’
Geom U-bin didn’t neglect his Yeongong cultivation practice whenever time allowed, exactly as the disciples hoped.
Learning the movement technique that Yeon Geum-hong had taught him slowed his pace considerably, and his wavering gait resembled that of a drunkard.
“If I combine the Sipbo Baeknyeong Movement Technique with the Chwhwa Naksu Fist Technique…”
As Geom U-bin extended his arms with effort, he suddenly clutched his hand and crouched down.
So absorbed in his cultivation practice, he’d failed to notice the large rock by the roadside and struck it with his fist.
“Ugh…”
After bearing the pain for some time, Geom U-bin quickened his pace again.
As Geom U-bin cradled his hand in agony, Do Pyeong-su felt what seemed like the same blow landing on his own fist.
This was the first time he’d felt the impulse ‘I’d rather the pain were mine’ in response to another’s suffering.
When Do Pyeong-su passed the rock Geom U-bin had struck, he stepped back and shattered it entirely.
Just in case Geom U-bin might accidentally hit it again next time.
“He could trip and fall over it, after all.”
Having cleared away even the roots of the rock, Do Pyeong-su resumed following behind Geom U-bin.
It took Geom U-bin one double hour to reach the guesthouse. The journey took twice as long, consumed as he was by his martial arts cultivation.
The Cheonha Jeil Guesthouse, located at the city’s edge, was a shabby establishment whose name—”The Finest Under Heaven”—bore no discernible connection to its actual state.
With twelve oil-stained tables and a guest chamber toward the back, it was one of countless ordinary inns scattered throughout Zhongyuan.
“Good morning!”
Geom U-bin entered the guesthouse with a spirited greeting. Seo Poong-sik, the proprietor, startled as he emerged yawning from the kitchen.
“Why have you come so early?”
“If I want to learn the trade, I have to start early! I’ll begin by sweeping.”
As Geom U-bin swept the floor with a broom and wiped down the tables with a cloth, Seo Poong-sik nodded with quiet approval.
Though it was only the first day, it was immediately clear that Geom U-bin would prove an exemplary worker. At first, the proprietor had hesitated to hire someone so young.
―I don’t need much pay! Just let me work!
Geom U-bin’s expression had been desperate, and when he added, “I have four disciples to feed,” Seo Poong-sik had relented and decided to hire him.
The Cheonha Jeil Guesthouse catered to travelers passing through Hangju who sought affordable lodging; aside from its low prices, it had little to recommend it—an establishment that matched its modest circumstances exactly.
With few guests, Geom U-bin’s days weren’t taxing, leaving him time to observe how the inn operated during his breaks.
Understanding the workings of a guesthouse was essential if he was to figure out how to sell the liquor the disciples had made.
He would have preferred to work at a prosperous inn or tavern in the city proper, but an eight-year-old child couldn’t secure employment at such establishments.
The Cheonha Jeil Guesthouse was the only place that had hired him after he’d been turned away a dozen times.
After a month working as a serving boy, the tasks had become second nature, and his knowledge of spirits had accumulated steadily.
“For meat dishes, grain spirits suit better than fruit wine. What do you think of substituting Three-Grain Spirit for the fruit wine?”
“Is the Three-Grain Spirit here any good?”
“We just got some from a new supplier, and it’s excellent.”
“How would a youngster know anything about the taste of spirits?”
The two middle-aged men said this even as they ordered the Three-Grain Spirit Geom U-bin recommended.
“Welcome, Lord Jang!”
Jang Deok-pal, shouldering a bundle as large as himself, stepped into the guesthouse and started with surprise at the greeting.
“Do you remember me?”
“You had lunch here twelve days ago and left after drinking soju, didn’t you?”
“Ha ha! The boy has a sharp mind. I stopped by once for a single lunch, and he remembers me.”
“Shall I bring you thin noodles and dumplings like last time?”
“No. Today I’ll try something more expensive.”
Anyone whose visit to an inn is remembered feels the warmth of that small kindness.
“What about braised pork with mushrooms? The pork and tree ear mushrooms we just received are wonderfully fresh and delicious.”
“That sounds good. Now, what about the drink…?”
“The Fragrant Flesh Rice comes with Bamboo Leaf Tea.”
“Fine, then. Bring a pound of Bamboo Leaf Tea as well.”
Geom U-bin called out toward the kitchen.
“One order of Fragrant Flesh Rice and a pound of Bamboo Leaf Tea!”
Seo Poong-sik couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he watched Geom U-bin.
He’d thought himself fortunate if the boy simply handled the menial work competently, yet here Geom U-bin moved with swift efficiency, made no careless mistakes, and had an uncanny knack for reading customers’ moods perfectly.
The fact that revenue had risen roughly thirty percent since Geom U-bin arrived a month ago was far from mere coincidence.
‘I wish he’d stay on permanently.’
But from the moment Geom U-bin took the position at the guesthouse, he’d fixed his tenure at three months.
‘If I offer him a generous wage, perhaps he’ll reconsider.’
The standard monthly wage was twenty copper coins, but Seo Poong-sik had added five more to the amount.
By the end of the afternoon hour, customers began to thin out. Since Geom U-bin’s shift ended at that time, he finished cleaning up quickly and prepared to leave.
“Here’s your wage for the month.”
“What? Five more coins?”
“I’ll add even more next month. But I wanted to ask—would you consider staying longer than three months? Perhaps indefinitely? If you’re willing, I could even teach you to cook.”
“Your offer is truly kind, but I have my reasons. Three months is all I can manage.”
Most people would have answered with a promise to think it over, considering their relationship with the proprietor. But Geom U-bin’s refusal was absolute.
“Ah, well. There’s nothing to be done about it, then.”
“Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow!”
Upon leaving the guesthouse, Geom U-bin hurried into Hangju’s streets. His first month’s wages would go toward gifts for his teachers.
Rain had fallen the night before, leaving puddles scattered across the road. He had to pick his way carefully as passing horses and carts splashed muddy water in all directions.
“You beggar! Watch where you’re flinging that mud!”
A sharp cry followed the shout—a child’s scream of pain.
Where the crowd and carts had intermingled, a child of perhaps six or seven lay sprawled on the ground, surrounded by four boys who appeared to be around thirteen or fourteen.
Around the grimy child lay scattered fragments of food collected from alms.
Crack!
The largest of the four boys stomped on the child’s alms bowl that lay on the ground, shattering it.
“How do you plan to take responsibility for dirtying the robes of Hangju Martial Arts School?”
All four boys wore black martial uniforms with the yin-yang symbol emblazoned on chest and back. A bit of the mud had stained the trouser cuff of the largest boy—apparently the child’s fault.
“You’re the ones being unreasonable!”
The child rubbed his chest in pain, then sprang to his feet.
“You wouldn’t give me alms, but breaking my bowl? That’s too much!”
The boy’s retort was apt enough, but it only invited further retaliation.
A foot drove into his ribs, and as he doubled over, the heel of another shoe flew up toward his face.
The child spat blood and collapsed. The onlookers either passed by indifferently, treating it as none of their concern, or simply remained passive spectators.
But not everyone was indifferent.
“Uncle, could you stop the carriage for me?”
At Namgung Hye-yeon’s request, Jang So-myeong ordered the driver to halt, then asked, “What is it?”
“Why do you ask?”
Through the carriage window, Namgung Hye-yeon watched as the beggar child was struck. While she could readily infer the chain of events, even at eleven years old, she found the boys’ behavior contemptible.
Using strength to bully the weak was one of the things she most despised.
“I think I should…”
Just as she reached for the carriage door, another figure stepped forward from the crowd.
“This is too much!”
It was an adult’s responsibility to intervene, yet it was another child who placed himself between the boys and the beggar—a child of perhaps eight or nine years old.
“Who are you?”
“If your clothes got splashed with mud, you wash them. That’s no reason to beat a child.”
“Wash them? Are you going to pay for the laundering?”
A single copper coin lay in the palm of the smaller child’s extended hand.
“Isn’t this enough?”
A sneer crossed the larger boy’s face.
“You think we’re beggars like him? You’re next if you don’t watch it—”
“Take the money and go, or just leave.”
The tone of the smaller child’s words had shifted. His voice carried a deeper note, infused with quiet resolve, and it made the older boy swallow his threat involuntarily.
The boy suddenly realized he’d been silenced, and burst out in anger.
“What if I don’t?”
“Then you fight me.”
The older boys laughed derisively.
They were students of martial arts from the school, while their opponent was merely a small child. Yet the child showed no trace of fear in his expression.
Just as the larger boy was about to throw a punch, the smaller child spoke.
“If you fight me, you’ll make an enemy, and I never forget an enemy.”
My fist froze mid-swing.
In fourteen years of living, the boy had never heard a threat quite like this. Of course, he and his friends had joked about killing each other countless times.
But those were merely thoughtless words spilled without meaning, whereas the two syllables “enemy” that fell from the small boy’s lips carried a chill like icicles hanging from the eaves being dragged across his chest.
His fist went slack.
“Where did this weird brat come from, ruining my luck? Spit!”
Rather than direct it at the small boy, he spat toward the puddle beside him—all he could manage.
Completely overawed by the child’s momentum, the older boys retreated, leaving behind the saying “Do we avoid shit out of fear or because it’s filthy?”
Namgung Hye-yeon watched the scene with keen interest.
“To suppress those ill-tempered ruffians with mere presence and send them away—that little one is impressive.”
She turned to Jang So-myeong with her murmured observation.
“Do you know who that child is?”
Her uncle Jang So-myeong tilted his head thoughtfully.
“I’m well-connected in Hangju, but I can’t possibly know every child in the city.”
“Would you find out for me?”
“From the look of his clothes, he doesn’t seem the sort to warrant your attention.”
The small boy in cheap rags was certainly not the child of a respectable family. But her interest had nothing to do with his station.
“Why won’t you take it?”
While she spoke with Jang So-myeong, the small boy and a beggar were locked in a tug-of-war over a single copper coin.
“I hate being pitied.”
The child had been trying to give to the beggar the very coin he’d refused to give to the martial arts school boys, and the beggar was refusing it.
“A beggar who hates pity? Then you should stop being a beggar.”
“What?”
“You live off people’s sympathy—that’s what begging is. If you hate being pitied, then quit.”
“I’d take it from adults, but you’re like me!”
The boy, who had been staring at the shouting beggar, tucked the coin into his own pocket.
“You’re picky about whose pity you’ll accept? Then you’re not fit to be a beggar at all. If a real beggar starves because of scraps meant for someone unworthy like you, that’s doing harm to the other beggars. Stop it now.”
Namgung Hye-yeon watched the boy’s receding back as he walked away from the beggar, having dealt out harsh words.
“I’m getting more curious about who he is.”
Separate from Namgung Hye-yeon’s growing curiosity, Geom U-bin was actually feeling a bit of regret. There had been no need to speak so harshly to the small beggar boy.
‘I should focus on my own path.’

Geom U-bin spent the afternoon moving through the marketplace, buying gifts for his martial seniors, then returned home.
“Seniors, I’ve returned a bit late today.”
Seo Seok-san greeted Geom U-bin first, followed by the three other martial seniors emerging into the courtyard.
“Since I received my first wage today, I wanted to buy gifts for my seniors.”
“Gifts? What kind of gifts?”
Geom U-bin handed a red pendant with tassels to Yeon Geum-hong, who had asked with a pleased expression.
“Nothing expensive. But I thought it would suit you well to wear on your robes.”
Yeon Geum-hong accepted the pendant in both hands and gazed at it for a long while.
Come to think of it, this was the first time anyone had ever given her a gift. The same was true for the other three as well.
Jang Man-dok, who received a hair tie, and Seo Seok-san, who received pipa strings, could not hide their expressions of gratitude.
Do Pyeong-su, who received a Thousand Character Classic last, wore a look of confusion.
“Senior, a book is rather…”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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