Won Soo cowered in the bushes by the side of the road, listening anxiously for the sound of his master’s voice.  Despite Won Soo’s protests, Young Min had ridden off to the rescue when they had heard the cries for help, ordering his loyal servant to wait for his return.

But what if the thieves Young Min had gone to fight had overpowered the young master?  What if, because Won Soo had failed in preventing Young Min from once again playing the noble hero, Minister Park’s son was now lying in a ditch somewhere up ahead, never to reach his uncle’s home in Miryang?  After all, the young master had been seemingly ill as of late, although he had done his best to conceal it.  But every now and then, Won Soo would catch the grimace of pain that would briefly flit across Young Min’s face.

As the minutes wore on, Won Soo began to panic.  There was no sign of Young Min, and he began to fear that his master was dead!  And it was all his fault.  Minister Park would have his head for failing to look after his only son!  Won Soo knew he shouldn’t have let Young Min go off by himself when he wasn’t feeling well—

Something nudged Won Soo’s shoulder, and the terrified servant let out a muffled scream and nearly fell over in fear, only to come face-to-face with his horse.

Trying to compose himself, the servant closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Now that his fearful mental ramblings had been interrupted, he tried to think clearly.  If his master didn’t call for him soon, he would have to prepare himself, as no doubt he would be retrieving a body full of arrows…

“Won Soo!”

The servant nearly jumped out of his skin at the voice.

“Won Soo!  You can come out now!  Where are you?”

“Young Master!”  The servant jumped up from his hiding place and took his horse by the reins.  Never had he been so happy to hear the scholar’s voice than at that moment.

Leading his horse up the road, Won Soo soon met up with Young Min and the pile of dead thieves he had confronted.

“Young master!” Won Soo cried out again.  “I’m so relieved!  I couldn’t hear anything and I was so worried you were—”  He fell silent, finally noticing that they weren’t alone.  “Who’s that?”

Young Min looked at the scrawny boy to his left.  “Oh, uh.  I found him hiding in the bushes after the attack.  I think he might have been hoping to get some of the merchants’ valuables as well.”

“I was not!” the scrawny boy protested, and Won Soo blinked in surprise at how high-pitched his voice was.  “I wasn’t going to do anything.  Please, let me go.  The rope is hurting my wrists.”

“Goodness, he sounds like a girl!” Won Soo exclaimed, oblivious to the way both the suspected thief and his master tensed at the comment.  “How old are you, boy?”

The boy cleared his throat and looked down at the ground, answering in a slightly deeper voice, “Uh…nineteen.”

“And what’s a boy like you doing here, anyway?” Won Soo asked.  “Don’t you have a farm or something to attend to?  A family to look after?”

The boy merely fixed him with a glare.

Won Soo refused to let on that he was intimidated by the glower, and instead turned to Young Min.  “It’s a good thing you caught him, young master,” he appraised.  “With such a scruffy appearance and no familial obligations, the boy is obviously up to no good.”

Young Min gave a tight-lipped smile.  “Thank you for that assessment, Won Soo, but I think we’ll just let the local magistrate decide—”

“I was just trying to get to Busan,” the boy growled.

“Ya!  Don’t interrupt my master like that!” Won Soo said, raising a hand threateningly.  “Master Park Young Min is the most decent human being who deserves the utmost respect, and I will not tolerate rudeness towards—”

“Thank you, Won Soo,” Young Min said, hurriedly stepping between the cowering thief and angry servant.  “That will do.”

Grudgingly, Won Soo lowered his hand.  “What’s his name, anyway?” he asked.

Young Min tensed, and Won Soo narrowed his eyes at the suspicious glance shared between his master and the scrawny boy.

“Uh…” the boy began.  “My name?  It’s, uh…”

“He’s Mi Nam,” Young Min answered hurriedly.  “Er…Soo Mi Nam.”

Won Soo snorted.  “Mi Nam? Well, he does have rather long lashes for a boy.  But pretty?  His looks are decent, at best.”

Mi Nam, meanwhile, was glaring viciously at Young Min through said eyelashes.

“Ya!  Don’t look at my master that way!” Won Soo reprimanded, drawing back his fist in another threatening gesture.

Once again, Young Min jumped between Won Soo and the boy, arms outstretched protectively.

“That’s quite enough, Won Soo,” the scholar said with a forced smile.

Won Soo looked up at his master in complete bewilderment and lowered his fist with a shake of his head.  “Honestly, young master,” he said.  “I don’t understand why you’re so protective of him.  You should really let me teach that boy a lesson in respect.  Only Gong Il Woo’s servants glare at their master in such a way.  You deserve much better.”

“Your loyalty is very flattering,” Young Min said.  “But I think we should just focus on getting as far as possible before nightfall.”

“Right!”  Won Soo suddenly remembered how much further they had left to go.  “But there are only two horses.  Is the thief riding with me, or walking behind us?”

“Uh…” Young Min and Mi Nam shared another anxious glance.  “I think he’ll ride with me, actually.”

“But he’ll dirty your robes!  And he smells!” Won Soo protested.

“Yes, well, my horse is bigger than yours and can better accommodate two people,” Young Min said.  “And we’d move too slowly if he walked behind us.”

“But master—”

“No more arguing, Won Soo.  Please.”

Won Soo blinked in surprise at the sudden fatigue in his young master’s voice.  It was then that he noticed the scholar was paler than usual, and leaning against his horse for support.  If he had had any doubts about his master’s illness before, they were quickly vanished, to be replaced by mounting worry.  What ailed his young master so, and why wasn’t he getting any better?  If anyone should get sick, it should be that no-good, lazy excuse for a nobleman’s son Gong Il Woo.  But Young Min had done nothing but good deeds and live by the teachings of Confucius—

“Won Soo!”

The servant jumped, jolted from his musings, and hurried over to assist his master up onto his horse.  When it came time for the scoundrel named Mi Nam to be helped up, however, Won Soo grabbed the boy’s sleeve and leaned in to whisper a warning.

“If you so much as accidentally elbow the young master while riding, I’ll make sure you’ll get repaid ten times as worse,” he growled in the boy’s ear, too low for his master to hear.

The boy only stared back at Won Soo, wide-eyed with panic.

“Sometime this day, if you don’t mind, Won Soo,” Young Min sighed tiredly from up on his horse.

“Of course, young master.  I apologize.”

After helping Mi Nam onto Young Min’s steed, the servant mounted his own horse, and the trio restarted their journey to the other side of Joryeong Mountain.  Won Soo made sure to ride behind his master, to make sure no other bandits snuck up on them…and to keep an eye on the suspicious ruffian named Mi Nam that they had taken prisoner.

========================================================

I had disappeared long before Young Min returned from seeing the merchants to safety, of course.  And I had done quite a good job of cleaning up after myself, so the thieves just looked like dead bodies, and not dead bodies without livers.  Nara never mentioned the incident.  And the yangban never suspected a thing.  Typical human nature.  What is it like to be so oblivious, I wonder?

Oh, no, no.  It’s not ‘yeah,’ but ‘ya.’  Won Soo isn’t saying ‘yes!’ when he shouts, but the Korean word for ‘hey!’  Obviously.  There is a definitive difference between an interjection and an agreement.

 As for the false name that Young Min has come up with for Nara’s male disguise, I’m sure you noticed that Won Soo found it a bit amusing, no?  Mi Nam is translated as pretty boy.  I’m sure he thought it was a clever joke, though to Nara it’s not as funny.  Then again, she’s not as well acquainted with Won Soo as the scholar is, so she’s not aware that there’s no chance of that thick-headed servant ever figuring out her disguise.  I’m surprised the scholar at least noticed, really, given the human capacity for ignorance.