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Chapter 8 - Fen’s Farewell, Goose Maneuvers, and the Baby with Blueprints

Fen's Formal Resignation Attempt

It was a quiet morning when Fen finally broke.

She entered Madam's room with the solemn weight of a war veteran. In one hand, she carried a neat scroll—her resignation letter, written in her finest "I'm begging you to let me go before the baby blows up the house" calligraphy.

Madam, sipping tea, looked up.

"Fen, is that a letter?"

"A... request."

"Oh? Leave of absence?"

"More like permanent distance from explosives."

Madam smiled kindly.

"The Young Master adores you."

Fen's eyes twitched.

"He weaponized the fireplace tongs."

"He's inventive!"

"He lured Tao-Tao into an armor fitting!"

"We all have hobbies, Fen."

"I woke up this morning with blueprints tucked into my apron pocket labeled: 'Goose Launcher 3000™.'"

Madam hesitated. Blinked.

"…Was it detailed?"

Fen made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

"Too detailed."

Meanwhile: Operation Honkstorm Begins

In the training yard behind the estate, Lee Yong-Su stood proudly in his toddler glory, watching Tao-Tao lead three other geese—yes, recruited geese—through basic formation drills.

Using carefully-placed breadcrumbs and a whistle made from a hollowed gourd, Yong-Su had:

Formed Goose Squad Alpha

Developed two formations: Feather Wall and V-Of-Intimidation

Assigned Tao-Tao the honorary title of Captain Beakface

Each goose had a bamboo ring around its neck for "rank." Tao-Tao's was gold-painted. Naturally.

A passing elder paused and stared at the scene.

"...Is that child training poultry?"

A servant replied, deadpan:

"Aggressively."

Blueprint Discovery: Panic Ensues

Later that day, the estate's art tutor stumbled across a crayon drawing labeled "Phase 2: Barrel Stabilization & Goose Payload Compatibility."

Thinking it was a child's attempt at impressionist art, she submitted it to the city's Spring Exhibition.

It won.

Second place.

The judge described it as "an explosive commentary on tradition and revolution."

Yong-Su nodded smugly when he overheard.

"They get it."

Fen's Failed Escape (Feat. Mother)

Fen tried again to leave. She packed her things. She made it as far as the front gate.

And then Madam appeared behind her like a ghost wrapped in silk and grace.

"Going somewhere, Fen?"

"Yes. Away. Preferably to a place without children. Or geese."

Madam tilted her head.

"But the Young Master asked for you personally."

Fen froze.

"He... said my name?"

"Well, he pointed at your room and said, 'Need explosives lady.' Close enough."

Fen considered screaming. Instead, she sighed and turned around.

"Fine. But when he levels this estate, I get to say I told you so."

Tao-Tao's First Drill: Results Vary

The training ended with a simulated enemy attack: a scarecrow tied to a kite and dragged by string.

Tao-Tao launched first—beak-first strike, excellent form.

Goose #2 got distracted by a bug.Goose #3 attacked a gardener by mistake.Goose #4 ran away and hasn't been seen since.

Still, 25% success rate.

Yong-Su clapped happily and declared the exercise "mildly acceptable."

Fen, watching from behind a wall, whispered:

"The baby is assembling a fowl militia."

No one believed her. Yet.

Baby Schematics: Ongoing

Inside his room, Yong-Su sat cross-legged with stolen charcoal and sheets of paper. He was deep in thought, scribbling diagrams no baby should comprehend.

"Musket was cute," he mumbled, chewing the charcoal stick like a cigar."But I need stability. Accuracy. Reliability."

He circled three words:

Flint ignition

Goose attachment system

Suppressor (optional)

He paused, then added:

Cousin deterrent mode

He giggled.

The candle flickered, sensing something unnatural.

Evening Report

Fen's escape attempts today: 2.5 (she tried to bribe Tao-Tao once)

Goose squad status: 3/4 operational (one presumed MIA, possibly defected)

Madam's concern level: Still somehow 0

Father's current belief: Son is "developing creative spirit"

As the moon rose and the estate fell silent, Yong-Su whispered into the dark:

"Tomorrow: test goose payload delivery system."

Outside, Tao-Tao stretched his wings.

The wind shifted.

And somewhere, a blacksmith sneezed—unaware he'd be asked to forge a miniature cannon for a bird before week's end.

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