CHAPTER~20
They reached the inn in no time.
Lifting her head, Woo-hee read the name carved above the grand entrance.
Horong Inn (Tiger and Dragon Inn).
On either side of the elegant signboard, a dragon and a tiger were carved in relief, their jaws gaping open as if ready to roar.
Woo-hee, thrilled and brimming with confidence, squared her shoulders and reached out to fling the doors open—
When suddenly—
“Hey!”
A puff of dust rose from the ground as someone charged at her, clutching a broom like a weapon.
“When you’re begging, use the back door! Can’t you understand simple words?!”
The man looked utterly ordinary from head to toe—just a clean-cut inn servant.
“Ugh, what’s that stench? Because of you, our customers are turning back! Shoo! Shoo! Get lost before you ruin the place!”
He pinched his nose with one hand and waved the broom at her—exactly like those people on the street who had recoiled earlier.
Woo-hee’s face went cold, her voice dropping to a chilling murmur.
“…Did you just mistake me for a beggar?”
Even someone as forgiving as Woo-hee—especially toward people who fed her—couldn’t tolerate being treated like some street rat.
Being mistaken for a beggar at the very start of her grand journey as an infamous villain? Unacceptable.
“What, you’re saying you’re not? Please. Don’t make me laugh! Wearing rags that haven’t been washed in weeks, stinking like a corpse—what else am I supposed to think? Get out of here, or go around back and get a bowl of leftovers!”
Woo-hee’s lips curled into a bright smile—one that was anything but pleasant.
“So that’s why those martial arts novels always start with the protagonist beating up some inn boy… Reality confirmed.”
And yet—why, she wondered bitterly—were the stories always so wrong about the Ice Palace?
“Ugh, you filthy beggar, stop muttering and get away from the front door! You’re ruining business!”
The servant jabbed the broom toward her again. He truly had no sense of danger.
“Hah. Unbelievable.”
Woo-hee clenched her fists and forced herself to breathe. Patience, she reminded herself. This is what it means to be an adult.
“Hey, I’m not a beggar, okay? I’ve got money!”
“Oh, sure you do. You think I haven’t seen that scam before? You look like a stray dog rolled in garbage, and you’re telling me you’ve got money? You think I’m that dumb? What, can’t work so you beg for free food—?”
“Here, look!”
Woo-hee reached for her coin pouch, intending to prove it. But her hand froze halfway.
Wait.
Inside her pouch… there were only pills and spirit cores—treasures worth kingdoms, yes—but not a single coin.
The actual money… was all with Young-ho.
Her pupils trembled.
She really was a beggar.
Frantically, she checked every pouch and pocket she had. No silver notes, no spare coins, nothing. Even the golden pass she could’ve used to draw from the largest battlefield banks in the central plains? Gone. Thrown at Young-ho because she’d been too lazy to carry it.
She wasn’t just a beggar—she was a broken beggar.
The servant’s face turned from wary to downright frigid.
He’d almost believed her for a second. Not anymore.
Woo-hee swallowed dryly.
She’d never needed money before. Never lacked it, either. This was her first time realizing how terrifying it felt to have nothing.
Why did she feel so small right now, even though she’d done nothing wrong?
To think that she, Woo-hee—someone who could crush mountains with her bare hands—was being intimidated by a broom-wielding inn boy.
She straightened up, forcing her chin high. She couldn’t back down. Not now.
“Actually,” she blurted, “the money’s with someone else!”
Even she didn’t believe herself.
“He’ll be here any minute, so just bring me food first!”
If she could convince herself, maybe she could convince him too.
“And if you do, I’ll forgive your rude mouth. How about that?”
But she couldn’t bring herself to actually hit him.
That would make her less a hungry villain and more a random thug shaking down a kid for a meal.
“Hah. I knew it,” the servant scoffed. “You beggars are all the same.”
Something inside her snapped.
A faint snap—like a thread breaking.
“…You’re right,” Woo-hee said softly. “I am a beggar.”
“What… what are you doing?”
The boy stumbled back, unnerved by the sudden shift in her expression.
“If the world insists on treating me like a beggar… then I’ll treat the world like one too.”
Her eyes glinted with a dangerous light.
She reached behind her back and pulled free the long, cloth-wrapped shape she’d been carrying.
To the servant, it looked like some filthy stick—until his instincts screamed otherwise.
Every cell in his body told him the same thing: Run.
That was no stick. And she was no ordinary beggar.
“You people in the Central Plains really disappoint me,” Woo-hee sighed, tapping the sheathed blade against her shoulder. “Weren’t you supposed to respect women, children, and the elderly? What happened? Did all the decent ones die off and leave idiots like you behind?”
Tap, tap.
Her voice carried the weight of a reader who’d seen this scene in every martial arts story ever written.
“No wonder guys like you get written out by chapter two.”
Still, she wasn’t heartless.
“I just came to stay here while I take care of something at the clinic next door. So today—just today—I’ll give you a discounted preview.”
Crack, crack.
She rolled her neck lazily, stretched, and pointed the tip of her sheathed sword straight at him.
“Get ready, broom boy. Time to taste what it’s like to pick a fight with a beggar.”
It was the most villainous line ever uttered.
“Ahhh!”
The servant screamed as the small, white-haired “beggar” blurred like a swallow into the air—
Kaaang!
A single strike rang out, echoing across the street with a bone-shaking clang.
And then—
“Seriously,” a dry voice
muttered from behind her, “do you have to pick fights like this in public?”
