Just as the sun was slowly beginning to set, the village headman's son, Geummanjae, strolled in from the study hall, dragging his feet alongside Dolma. The "study hall" was a place where the sons of influential local families gathered to prepare for the gwageo (state civil service examination). It was well-known for employing excellent scholars as tutors. But I knew that Geummanjae only pretended to study there—he spent most of his time slacking off, occasionally feasting on alcohol and meat with his friends. He was still a kid, but he already seemed addicted to the taste of alcohol. It was clear he'd become a useless loafer in the future.
As soon as I saw Geummanjae, his pockmarked face in full view, I blurted out,
"Young master, I have something to tell the headman. Do you know where he is?"
Since I wasn't allowed near the livestock shed, I rarely knew where the village headman's family spent their time. There was nothing I could do about it.
"Huh? Did you finish what I told you to do?"
"Yes. I cleaned out the whole barn."
After glancing toward the shed as if inspecting it, Geummanjae gave a nod and said,
"He's probably in the annex. Don't bother me."
With that curt reply, he disappeared into his room and flopped onto his bedding. Even though we were the same age, seeing Geummanjae didn't make me angry anymore. I knew that he would just waste his life living off his parents, spending his days chasing after women, drink, and indulgence.
I ignored him and headed to the annex where the village headman was staying.
Just then, I saw the village headman slowly strolling around the annex courtyard. As soon as I spotted him, I bowed and spoke.
"Sir, I have something to say."
The village headman was a middle-aged man with a thin beard and a sly look. His beady eyes twitched slightly as he tilted his head.
"Sodongma, what is it?"
Gritting my teeth,
I clenched my fists.
That's right.
Before I became a pyosa (official courier or herald), I didn't even have a proper name. The village headman's family used to just call me "Sopoongie" or "Sodongie," as if I were nothing. They treated me with scorn and disrespect like it was perfectly normal. I stood still for a moment, then finally spoke with determination.
"Sir, I'm not Sodongi. My name is Baek-ong."
After becoming a pyosa and gaining my independence, I began using the birth name my parents gave me. The village headman flinched at what I considered a simple truth.
"Hmph! Don't you even know your place? You foolish brat… tch."
Clicking his tongue, the village headman glared at me. It was the first time I had ever spoken to him like this, and he clearly didn't like it.
It was probably him who should've been outraged—but in truth, I was the one who felt truly disgusted. The village headman had surely known my real name all along, and yet, during the many years I lived like a servant, he had never once called me Baek-ong. It was clear he had deliberately ignored it, intending for me to live out my life as a dumb servant.
Before he could flip the blame and get angry at me, I spoke up:
"I'm planning to take the entrance test for a mugwan (martial arts academy), so I'd like to go to the city tomorrow. May I have your permission?"
The village headman looked at me with a stunned expression.
"Have you lost your mind?"
Taking the exam for a mugwan!
A mugwan was a martial arts institution where students trained in combat and martial skills. Their aim wasn't just to teach self-defense—it was to cultivate elite martial artists and transform the academy into a prestigious sect within the martial world. In this region, just outside the city, there were more than a dozen such institutions.
But getting into a reputable mugwan required a lot of money. The people who ran these places were usually top-tier martial artists with fame throughout the murim (martial world), often from the Nine Great Sects or Five Great Clans. They charged exorbitant fees for their instruction. Commoners like me could only dream of learning martial arts—it was usually beyond our means.
However, there was one way to get into a mugwan without paying.
That was to take the entrance examination and prove that you had exceptional martial talent.
Although the instructors at these academies cared about prestige and profit, they were also driven by a strong desire to nurture outstanding disciples and grow their sects. If someone had enough talent, it wasn't unusual for a master to sponsor the student themselves.
I spoke quietly but firmly.
"There's no reason I shouldn't try, is there?"
"There's every reason not to!" the headman barked. "What talent do you think you have that makes you worthy to knock on a mugwan's door?"
He burst into laughter as if my words were the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard.
"Alright then," he said mockingly. "Tell me—which mugwan do you think you're going to apply to? I'm curious. I'll let you go just this once for the entertainment value."
"The Cheongryong Mugwan in Gwanjung," I answered.
"…!!"
The headman's beady little eyes widened ever so slightly. He spoke as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"Sodong-ah… do you even know what kind of place Cheongryong Mugwan is?"
He had called me Sodong again—but I decided to ignore it.
"Yes."
"Then what kind of place is it?"
"It's a mugwan founded by Yi Gwang, a former instructor of the royal guard. It's the largest and most prestigious martial arts academy in Gwanjung."
Yi Gwang was a legendary martial artist, considered one of the greatest in the entire Gwanjung region. He had mastered the sword, spear, and saber alike, earning him the nickname The Threefold Master. Many renowned fighters in the murim admired both his skills and his integrity.
"You've got some nerve!"
The village headman's face twisted like an angry catfish. He jabbed his finger against my forehead and pressed hard, snapping at me.
"You—you—the little brat who shovels cow dung wants to take that exam? That place is so prestigious even seasoned martial artists scramble to get in, and you think you can walk in and take the test?"
"If you end up making a fool of yourself, I'm the one who'll be shamed. I took you in and raised you in your parents' place. Stop dreaming nonsense and go to bed."
I grabbed the headman's arm.
Crack!
"Ahh—oof—ouch!!"
The headman screamed as a sudden pressure shot through his arm. I didn't go so far as to break it, but I had squeezed hard enough to leave a deep red mark. When I let go, he stammered in shock.
"Y-you—you dare raise your hand against the one who raised you…?"
I calmly said, "Look closely. I have this kind of strength."
I walked over to a nearby tree and grabbed a dry branch. Then, with a single motion, I snapped it—clean in half. It was as thick as a grown man's forearm. Most adult men would've struggled to do the same.
The headman's eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at me.
Even if the Threefold Martial Arts Method I had learned was considered third-rate, training for nearly half a lifetime had given me enough power to demonstrate something like this.
With a smirk, I added:
"If I, Baek-ong, get accepted into Cheongryong Mugwan, you won't have to worry about me being a burden any longer. In fact, won't it even raise your own reputation? And even if I fail, I won't disgrace you. Isn't it worth the risk?"
The headman tugged on his goatee a few times, clearly thinking hard. Then, wearing a reluctant expression, he gave a small nod.
"Fine. But if you do get accepted into Cheongryong Mugwan, you'll have to repay the money I spent raising you."
"…Excuse me?"
What was he talking about?
I looked at him in disbelief, thinking I must've misheard. But he replied with a completely straight face, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"You lived under my roof for two years. That drained our household budget. Isn't it only right you pay that back once you can earn your keep?"
"…Haah. And how much exactly are you asking for?"
"At least fifty nyang in silver."
Something boiled up inside me.
Fifty nyang? For two years of stuffing a teenage boy in the barn, making him work all day, and barely feeding him?
This man was truly despicable—beyond reasoning with.
But I held myself back, for now.
I swallowed my anger and forced myself to stay silent.
"Hah! I'll leave first thing tomorrow!"
Just wait and see.
Once I gain power, I will kill you and your son, Geummanjae, without hesitation. You two are the ones who ruined my life—and I won't let you go unpunished.
Though I harbored these dark and violent thoughts, on the outside, I pretended to be simply happy and excited.
I could have drawn a blade and cut them down right then and there, but I had chosen a new path. I wanted to first find a way to survive in this new life I had chosen.
"Then, I'll be off now."
"Fine, go."
The next day, I received twenty nyang of silver from the headman as travel money and set out for Cheongryong Mugwan in Gwanjung.
Geummanjae looked at me like, "You? Seriously?"
The headman's wife, his concubine, and even their children all wore expressions that made it clear they were sneering at me inside.
I kept a calm and composed face as I left.
"Hmph. This is better than last time—at least I've got some silver now. Back then, I went to the escort bureau without a single coin."
Of course, the headman had no idea, but I had once lived and worked as a pyosa (courier-guard) at a pyo-guk (escort bureau), and that experience had taught me the fastest and safest ways to get to Gwanjung.
Walking alone could expose me to rain, bandits, and many dangers—but if I could blend into a traveling pyohaeng (escort mission), I could minimize the risks.
The most likely candidate nearby was Samsong Escort Bureau.
The Mehwa Escort Bureau , where I had worked for over ten years, was similar in scale and used to compete with Samsong. While the two bureaus were rivals, it wasn't worth their time to feud openly—so they mostly ignored each other like disinterested neighbors.
I had heard that Samsong employed quite a few skilled pyosa. If I could join one of their pyohaengs, I could travel to Gwanjung much more comfortably.
After walking all day, I finally arrived in the city at sunset. Night had fallen.
City nights were dangerous—thieves and thugs prowled the streets, and night predators roamed freely. I immediately headed to the Traveler's Shelter.
This was a temporary lodging post guarded by soldiers where travelers were allowed to stay for one night. It wasn't luxurious, but it offered protection from robbers—and that was more than enough.
Inside the shelter, two or three other travelers were already curled up in silence, preparing to sleep. A faint, rotten smell lingered from the bedding.
I stared up at the moon for a moment, then quietly unpacked my things and lay down for the night.
The next morning, I got up early and made my way to Samsong Escort Bureau.
The large gate with the Samsong name plaque above it was already bustling by broad daylight. Pyosa were preparing for escort missions, and workers were running around loading supplies.
I approached a middle-aged pyosa and spoke up.
"I'd like to join your pyohaeng. Is there any way I might come along?"
"Huh? Who are you?"
"My name is Baek-ong. I live in the neighboring village. The headman sent me."
The pyosa's expression shifted slightly.
"Hmph… and where exactly are you headed?"
"To Gwanjung."
"You? A kid like you going all the way to Gwanjung? … Do you even have money?"
"No, sir. But I can cook, carry loads, and help however I can. Please, let me come with you."
The pyosa stroked his beard thoughtfully, then said…
"Come with me for a moment."
The man led me to where the pyowi (escort captain) was. A pyowi was like a squad leader who oversaw a group of about ten pyosa (courier-guards). Typically, it was a seasoned veteran who took this mid-level managerial role, and as such, they usually had martial arts skills far superior to the average pyosa.
The pyowi of the Samsong Escort Bureau was a man with a long face that resembled a horse. He was sitting down reading documents when he glanced up at me.
"Hmm? Who's the kid?"
"Captain, this boy wants to follow the escort group and help out with chores. Says his name is Baek-ong, from the next village over."
"Hmph…?"
The pyowi looked me over from head to toe and then said:
"Well, he's got a sturdy frame and looks capable. I don't see a problem. You take care of him."
"Yes, sir."
The pyowi didn't bother asking me where I was headed or who I really was. That was the job of the middle-aged pyosa. Because of that, I felt more grateful toward the pyosa than the pyowi. He'd gone out of his way to take on a troublesome task for my sake.
As we stepped back outside, I said to him,
"Thank you."
"I've got a son about your age," he replied with a chuckle.
"But we're not going all the way to Gwanjung. We'll be turning off toward the Yangon region midway. You'll have to find your own way from Yuwol Valley. Can you manage that?"
"Yes, I can. I'm already grateful that you're taking me even that far."
"Good then. Your duties will be preparing meals, doing the dishes, and carrying bundles. I'll explain more later."
"Yes, sir."
And so, the escort mission set off.
I found myself smoothly blending in with the group, and everything was going more smoothly than I had expected.
We walked for about six hours each day, alternating between trekking and resting as we crossed over mountain passes. When it was time for lunch or dinner, I began handling various chores. Of course, I had been doing these kinds of tasks for years, so I managed them without needing much instruction.
Impressed, the pyosa said:
"You're a hard worker! After this escort trip, why don't you stay on and do odd jobs at the bureau?"
It might've sounded like a casual suggestion, but it was actually a pretty decent offer.
In farming villages, most families were dirt poor and often went hungry for days. Just being able to work at an escort bureau and get regular meals was already considered a good life by many.
But I replied cautiously.
"I'll think about it after I finish what I came to do."
"Sure, sure."
First, I had to make it to Cheongryong Mugwan in Gwanjung and put my current abilities to the test.
Could I really become a student at Cheongryong Mugwan using the Six Harmonies Sword Technique and Threefold Internal Method I had trained in for 40 years in my past life?
I believed I absolutely could.
That's why I had dared to step out into the world again. After all, I had spent decades training—surely, I would be far ahead of any other teenage boy in terms of skill and experience.
The thought that I might get to learn elite martial arts at Cheongryong Mugwan kept me too excited to sleep.
I traveled with the escort mission for about ten days and nights. No bandits appeared, and there were no accidents. Everything went smoothly.
Since Samsong Escort Bureau's mission was heading to Yangon through Yuwol Valley, I had to part ways with them midway and continue on alone to Gwanjung.
"Thank you for everything."
"Wait a moment, kid."
The middle-aged pyosa handed me two silver nyang. I was surprised, as I hadn't expected anything. Seeing my reaction, he laughed, scratching his oily hair.
"Hahaha. You think it's easy for a kid like you to get all the way to Gwanjung on your own? If you run into bandits or outlaws, offer them that money. It might just save your life."
"…Thank you. Truly."
My nose stung slightly with emotion.
Having worked as a pyosa for decades myself, I knew exactly what kind of thought lay behind his gesture. Two silver nyang was a significant amount for an ordinary pyosa.
He probably gave it to me out of a protective, almost fatherly instinct—dipping into his own money just to help.
After all, bandits and outlaws often didn't hesitate to kill lone children out of annoyance. Occasionally, they might sell them as slaves if they were lucky—but more often, it was a brutal end. If I at least offered them silver, I might avoid being killed outright. Even bandits, who were often deserters or runaway slaves, had some shred of humanity left.
So, these two nyang weren't just travel money.
They were my lifeline.
I sniffed lightly and asked,
"By the way… I never asked for your name. What should I call you?"
"I'm Jang Cheol of Samsong Escort Bureau. Come find me someday."
"Yes. I absolutely will."
I made a vow to myself.
Someday, when I had gained real power—when I held wealth and fame in my hands—I would repay Jang Cheol's kindness a hundredfold.