Dong-ho of Wuhan.
A man wearing a bamboo hat was walking.
If he were a martial artist, one would instantly recognize him as a skilled warrior by his sunburnt, muscular body and the scar that curved upward from his left jaw. Anyone observing his steady yet powerful strides would quickly deduce his considerable abilities.
Of course, a regular person might see the fishing rod he held and think he was just a fisherman, showing little interest.
But the identity of this “fisherman” was the Three-Eyed Sword (삼안검), Cho Cheol.
He was a ronin who had borrowed money from the Man Geum Battlefield and disappeared without a trace.
‘Ah, Wuhan is good.’
The Three-Eyed Sword, Cho Cheol, thought with a relieved smile. Countless Joseon people flocked to Wuhan, the hub of logistics, in search of jobs.
His black hair, inherited from his grandmother, stood out everywhere, but in Wuhan, it barely attracted any attention.
As expected, but there was something unexpected.
‘Why are there so many Joseon people wearing bamboo hats?’
It’s not like everyone who vanished with a fortune was roaming around. Why were there so many Joseon people wandering about in bamboo hats?
As the Three-Eyed Sword pondered this small mystery, he headed toward the fishing spot.
“Hey!”
“Huh?”
Cho Cheol turned around at the voice from behind. There was no one else around.
“Is this guy deaf?”
A ruffian-like man pointed at him and spoke.
“Me?”
“Is there any other guy in a bamboo hat here? You’re really late.”
A ruffian dared to confront the revered Three-Eyed Sword. For a moment, Cho Cheol thought about how to respond and let out a chuckle.
“What’s going on?”
In his younger days, he often got involved in trouble just for having black hair.
Could it be that this guy was trying to extort money from him? If that were true, he was ready to indulge his nostalgic memories with compounded interest.
“What do you mean? Ha. Now that I see, the person has changed. Here!!!”
The ruffian looked at the lower half of Cho Cheol’s face and dug something out from his pocket.
“…Money?”
What the ruffian offered was a money pouch.
“Is this about the debt from last time? You came all this way, thinking I didn’t pay you back? I’ve been waiting to settle it this time!”
“Debt? What debt?”
Cho Cheol was puzzled as he had indeed borrowed money but couldn’t understand why this was happening.
“Where’s my iron bag? Hurry up before the black bean noodles get cold.”
“Ha…”
“This guy. Did you forget?”
Looks like there was some misunderstanding. Cho Cheol felt a twinge of disappointment but paused, considering how to respond.
“Delivery arrived! Customer! I came to collect the debt, too!”
A Joseon man wearing a bamboo hat appeared behind Cho Cheol, holding a strange wooden bag.
“Wait a second…”
The ruffian scrutinized Cho Cheol from head to toe, trying to comprehend the unfolding situation.
“I’m not a Joseon person.”
As Cho Cheol emitted a faint murderous intent, the ruffian finally realized his mistake and bowed repeatedly.
“Great hero! I’m sorry! The clothing is so similar…”
Cho Cheol waved his hand dismissively and watched the Joseon delivery man bring in the food with great interest.
‘Are Joseon people running a food delivery business in Wuhan?’
No wonder they didn’t cast suspicious glances even if he walked around in a bamboo hat. Apparently, his attire resembled that of the Joseon delivery workers.
“Since I’ve never seen you before, are you Joseon?”
Just as Cho Cheol was about to turn away, the young delivery man with just starting facial hair called him back.
“Are you deaf?”
It was an all-too-familiar situation; to be precise, it was a routine he had gotten used to since the day he arrived in Wuhan. Cho Cheol frowned in annoyance.
“I came to bring you good tidings, but how could you? Even if your country betrays you, we will still extend our hand to you! If you need help, just!”
“Stop it with the Joseon expatriate association; I’m not interested.”
How annoying. Whenever someone saw his black hair, they’d come asking if he wanted to join the Joseon expatriate association.
Choosing to slightly lift his bamboo hat, he revealed his gray eyes.
“Ah! You see, we’re not that strict. If you have black hair, you can at least go through the application process. The application only needs simple information like residence, name, workplace, annual income, marital status, and notable skills or connections. Just write my name as your referrer, and you’ll get a whole bag of rice!”
“Get out.”
The Three-Eyed Sword glared at the delivery man as if to say he would take action if he disturbed him any further.
“Tch! I thought I’d get a bag of rice, too! If you need help, remember to visit the Yonggi Restaurant! The Joseon expatriate association is always waiting for you! Goodbye!”
“…Too many Joseon people is a problem.”
What an annoying bunch. Cho Cheol hurried his steps toward the fishing site.
Unbeknownst to him, a carrier pigeon flew over his head.
——
“Name: Cho Cheol. Nickname: Three-Eyed Sword. Fled after borrowing money from the Man Geum Battlefield. Found near Dong-ho in Wuhan. Currently noting his lodging and frequently visited restaurants and places.”
In the office of the mansion, I began explaining the aggregated information compiled by the newly hired secretaries.
“They really found him.”
“I told you we could locate him.”
I nodded indifferently to Jeon Gil-san’s awed comment.
“Age: 42. From Musu Village. Huh?”
One of the secretaries muttered in surprise.
“Why? Do you know that village?”
“It’s the old firewood village. It dispersed during the famine, but some Joseon people lived there. It seems Cho Cheol’s grandmother was Joseon too.”
“If it’s his grandmother, he probably doesn’t see himself as Joseon.”
It’s similar to how James, who lives in America, doesn’t see himself as Mexican even though his grandmother is Mexican.
“Started his ronin life in his 20s. Gained the title Three-Eyed Sword in his mid-30s.”
The basic personal information was all covered.
“Since we’ve found him, we need to get him to pay up. What’s his financial situation?”
He came from the Man Geum Battlefield, so repayment was expected. The talk part would come later; first, I needed to squeeze out something.
The secretary started rummaging through the data gathered from the Man Geum Battlefield and opened his mouth with a grim expression.
“Uh… it’s a disaster.”
“A disaster? I thought he was a skilled person.”
Isn’t it common for someone with a bit of reputation to have some savings?
“He has been staying in Ho Ga-Jang for ten years, but it seems to have gone bust. Because of that, he became a beggar since he couldn’t receive the money owed to him.”
So, he should have received a severance but ended up with a bankrupt company.
“So, he borrowed money?”
“They lent him money thinking he would start a business, but they never expected he would vanish instead.”
“I can already picture his grandfather’s fuming expression. To lend money without collateral to a broke guy? Is that sane?”
Jeon Gil-san scoffed in disbelief, boasting he would rectify them mentally later.
This guy is already gloating.
“If he has nothing, how could we even collect?”
As I muttered and surveyed the surroundings, everyone seemed to avoid my gaze, struggling to come up with a clear plan.
Even Jeon Gil-san, who had been furious only moments ago, lowered his head like a student who was late to class when I looked around like a professor looking for someone to answer a question.
This is troublesome.
A martial artist with no wealth. And the amount to recover is massive. Finding him in one day was great, but there were still piled-up problems.
“Umm…”
The once-eager Miss Zhuge cautiously tugged at my sleeve, calling for my attention.
“Yes, Miss Zhuge. Is there something on your mind?”
Did she have a solution?
Glancing around briefly, Miss Zhuge seemed to gather her strength before bowing her head and speaking up.
“Um, what if we sold our bodies?”
“Gasp.”
The room froze at that moment.
Selling themselves for quick cash? It’s a common route when you mess up with loans, but still…
“Truly the granddaughter of Man Geum-jeon!”
Whispers of astonishment echoed from around the room.
“No! That’s not… I’m talking about him being a skilled warrior!”
“If he’s reputed enough to be called a skilled warrior, then his nighttime services must be extraordinary. Gil-san, is there even a market for this?”
As if in disbelief, a comment slipped out. After all, it came from Miss Zhuge.
“I don’t know much about that side of things. However, I’ve heard there’s a certain variety of tastes among the older folks.”
“Indeed….”
So, they really do dominate the chicanery of the martial arts world—those of the Zhuge clan!
“Ah! Master Kang, that’s not it! Ugh! I’m so sorry!”
Miss Zhuge’s complexion turned pale with dread.
“Ah, could it be you meant that a person like the Three-Eyed Sword might find someone willing to pay for him?”
“Yes! Exactly!”
Miss Zhuge shook her head vigorously, quickly escaping the pit of misunderstanding.
“Certainly a good idea. But he probably didn’t vanish without intention; he must not want to pay back, so do we need to subdue him first?”
We could bind him in good condition, negotiate amicably, and sell him to other sects for a deposit.
“Can we subdue the Three-Eyed Sword without hurting him?”
“…”
I couldn’t answer Jeon Gil-san’s inquiry. After all, he was a master. I couldn’t rely on the manpower from Man Geum Battlefield either.
“Even if we do subdue him, what if he refuses to pay it back? We need the money within a month.”
“No wealth, no intention to pay back, and a skilled fighter. This truly isn’t an easy challenge….”
This is indeed a tough situation.
The perceived easiest opponent turned out to be like this.
Even after passing through the hardest checkpoint, insurmountable difficulties still lay in wait. Somewhere, a sigh of frustration echoed.
While everyone remained silent, eying each other, no clear solution was forming.
Except for one person.
“Hm?”
Miss Zhuge was now closely examining the documents prepared by the secretaries. Was she searching for something? Her usual demeanor had vanished, replaced by an intensely focused expression as she turned the pages.
“Miss Zhuge?”
“Um, Master Kang. There’s something rather strange here.”
Miss Zhuge approached me, shifting her gaze awkwardly sideways, and handed me a paper.
“Yes, go ahead and say it.”
“It’s a promissory note that the Three-Eyed Sword used. It seems it hasn’t been collected yet.”
The spot Miss Zhuge pointed to was a blank. It was a detail no one had noticed.
“Not collected? Are you saying he hasn’t used the promissory note yet?”
“Yes, that’s right!”
Who would have thought Miss Zhuge would extract the most important piece of information from the unnoticed blank?
Her eyes shined brightly as if pleased that I understood her remark swiftly, and she flashed a cheerful smile in my direction.
That smile was uncomfortably close. The fragrance of hydrangeas lingered at the tip of my nose.
“…”
“Master Kang?”
“Ah, no.”
Oh no. I had unintentionally got captivated by her smile.
“Brother-in-law, should I lay out the bedding for you?”
Jeon Gil-san grinned mischievously.
“So, the Three-Eyed Sword still possesses the promissory note… if we can secure the principal, then it could be resolved quite easily.”
In this modern day and age, I would have dealt with worthless checks, but now that it had been issued, it was a matter of trust. It had to be honored if it returned.
If it wasn’t returned, it meant he never converted it into cash.
If I can retrieve that, I can stick him with just the interest burden.
“While it’s indeed good news, how would one fish out the meat from inside a wolf’s belly?”
“Make him spit it out willingly.”
“What?”
I said I would prove it to Man Geum-jeon.
We must show them that even what appears impossible is solvable. To become the successor of Man Geum Battlefield, that’s the least I can do.
What should I do? How can I retrieve the promissory note hidden within the Three-Eyed Sword? I hurriedly flipped through the information about him.
There was sufficient information. I was prepared.
In that case…
“I have a method.”
—
The morning in Wuhan arrived.
The Three-Eyed Sword was fishing, just like yesterday.
“Oh no! Another bycatch! It’s just a bycatch. You! Come and take your uncle! Hey!”
The most frustrating thing for a fisherman is someone being a nuisance around them. Especially when their luck runs low, they are even more sensitive to disturbances.
I pretended to be busy with my fishing rod, waiting for the Three-Eyed Sword to cause a ruckus.
“…You’ll scare the fish away.”
In the end, Cho Cheol could not hold it in and flung a remark at me.
“This guy! It seems you’ve brought your uncle. You came! Huh? What did you say?”
I waved the fish I’d caught proudly at the Three-Eyed Sword, who hadn’t caught a single one.
“Not at all…”
Where are you trying to escape to?
“Eh?!”
I approached the Three-Eyed Sword, feigning surprise, my next plans in mind.
“I’m not a Joseon person. Stop with that Joseon expatriate association already…”
Just how many times has he been solicited? As I approached with black hair, Cho Cheol shot a warning look as if annoyed.
But let me tell you something.
My aim isn’t for the expatriate association membership.
“Is it Uncle Deok-cheol?”
I slowly approached him, covering my mouth with my hands, as though I were about to reveal a grand secret.
“Who is that?”
“It’s me, Yoon Ho. From Musu Village!”
What would he do if a reliable hometown person suddenly showed up before him?
