Chapter 92: Huh?[1]
Chapter 92: Huh?[1]
The effect of the steroid was certainly tremendous.
It seemed the pain in his wrist had already almost vanished.
Well... He’s young, so the medicine probably works well too.
At any rate, how long could the illness have lasted?
At most, it had probably only been a year or two.
Which meant there likely had been no permanent changes yet, such as scarring of the ligaments or calcium deposits.
Of course, it differed from person to person.
It should be fine, right?
Kanghyeok nodded as he looked at Gwanghae, whose face was lit with a broad smile.
Gwanghae truly looked delighted.
That dull, unpleasant pain that had wrapped around his wrist all day had disappeared, so naturally he would feel that way.
“Mm. Truly marvelous. Those pills were fairly effective too, but this...”
Gwanghae still wore an expression of wonder as he looked down at his own wrist.
He was so openly delighted, like a little child, that anyone watching could not help but smile as well.
The way he’s acting, he looks exactly like the type to overdo it.
That would never do.
Why go to all the trouble only to let someone else reap the benefit?
“Your Highness. As I said earlier, if you push yourself too hard, it will recur.”
“Haha. I know, I know. Still, it should be fine if I do a bit of painting, yes?”
Painting.
Kanghyeok shifted his gaze back and forth between Gwanghae, who was smiling radiantly, and the rock beside him, just as brilliantly smooth and polished.
He also noticed Yeoju, who was watching him with catlike eyes every so often.
She clearly seemed very eager to see Gwanghae’s paintings.
As for painting...
As long as someone else did the wiping afterward, it should be fine.
“Understood. Then—”
“Excellent. Bring the tools.”
Before Kanghyeok could even finish speaking, Gwanghae barked the order to the eunuch.
The eunuch ran as if his nonexistent balls were about to fall off, and before long, he returned with the painting tools.
Quite a lot of pigments... ?
There was not only ink, but also quite a number of pigments made from natural materials.
Contrary to his appearance, it seemed he painted quite a few colorful pictures as well.
Gwanghae picked up a brush, his face bright with excitement as though he had just received a Christmas present.
Meanwhile, the eunuch worked his slender wrist as he ground the ink.
That man might have carpal tunnel syndrome too.
Judging by his build, he seemed to have been castrated before puberty.
You could tell from his thin limbs and unusually protruding lower belly.
And seeing his pitifully formed Adam’s apple made Kanghyeok realize just how inhuman an act “castration” really was.
Of course he’d be in pain, overworking himself like that with strength like his.
Indeed, the eunuch’s face looked full of pain.
“Ugh.”
He even let out a stifled groan.
It was so subtle that one would hardly notice unless watching very carefully.
I should examine him sometime later.
While Kanghyeok was distracted by the patient—that is, the eunuch—Gwanghae and Yeoju had already fallen neatly into step with each other.
“What kind of brush do you use?”
“Ah... It is far too gracious of Your Highness to ask...”
“Haha. Leave such useless formalities aside. Take out your brushes and show me.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
Though afraid she might be exposed as a woman, Yeoju still took out her brushes and showed them to Gwanghae.
Most of them had been newly bought for her by Kanghyeok, making them top-grade brushes.
For example, brushes made from the hair of horses, tigers, foxes, wildcats, and rabbits.
They were all brushes Kanghyeok, who knew nothing at all about painting or calligraphy, had chosen simply because they looked expensive, and they were not the ones Yeoju particularly favored.
She merely kept them because she was grateful for his thoughtfulness.
Among the brushes she had shown, only one was Yeoju’s personal favorite, but Gwanghae unfailingly picked out that one.
“This is a masterpiece.”
“Ah.”
Yeoju’s eyes widened in surprise.
Holding the brush, Gwanghae began admiring it to himself.
“It uses weasel hair, and the craftsman must have selected it with the utmost care. It is neither too soft... nor too stiff. Truly excellent.”
“You flatter it.”
Yeoju lowered her head slightly as she met Kanghyeok’s eyes.
This was also the very brush she had used when teaching Kanghyeok to write.
The memory came back vividly—how she had secretly marveled at Kanghyeok’s intelligence, since whenever she taught him one thing, he would unfailingly master at least that one thing.
Even while Yeoju was lost in sentiment, Gwanghae’s admiration continued.
“Mm. It is a bit small for me, but...”
Still holding the brush, Gwanghae looked down at Yeoju’s hand.
“But it suits you perfectly. I would like to see your skill. Paint something here.”
Gwanghae indicated his rock with his chin.
At those words, the eunuchs gathered around widened their eyes.
That was because Gwanghae never allowed anyone to so much as touch that rock.
Yeoju, however, did not know that, so she simply nodded calmly.
In truth, she was also eager to show him her painting immediately.
After taking the brush from Gwanghae, she let out a low sigh.
“But what subject would Your Highness prefer?”
“A subject? Mm.”
Gwanghae pressed a hand to his chin and fell into deep thought.
Then he struck his fist into his palm and cried out,
“I usually paint movements from martial arts training. Could you do that as well?”
“Martial arts, you say?”
At the mention of painting movements, Yeoju’s ears practically perked up.
At the time, the prevailing style of painting focused mostly on landscapes, and imagined landscapes at that.
Even painting still life, as Yeoju or Heo Nanseolheon did, was unfamiliar in that era.
Yet here he was, painting people, and beyond that, even painting movement.
Yeoju realized that the young prince before her was far from an ordinary person.
No wonder his lines felt so lively and swift.
It was probably because of the speed with which he painted.
If one wanted to capture a moving person, one’s lines could not be slow.
Fortunately, Yeoju had experience in just that, every bit as much as Gwanghae.
No, perhaps she had even more.
Just yesterday morning, I sketched young master’s spar with Yeoni.
From quick movements like taekkyeon,
And as for surgery scenes, I’ve drawn them until I was sick of them.
to slower movements like medical procedures.
“I will try.”
With a deep breath, Yeoju brought the brush to the rock.
She held the brush against the rock for quite some time, but once her hand began to move, it did not hesitate.
In some places, the brushstrokes were somewhat rough; in others, they were softer than anything else.
“Hoh.”
Exclamations rose here and there, and Gwanghae’s lips were no exception.
Oh. So she could paint like this too.
It was enough of a performance to capture even Kanghyeok’s attention, though until then he had been secretly yawning.
He was used to seeing her scribble in books every day, but watching her paint on such a large rock felt strangely new.
It almost gave him the illusion of watching a performance by Kim Jung-gi.
“Ah...?”
After staring in concentration for quite a while, Kanghyeok’s head tilted slightly.
Behind him, Yeoni’s face likewise showed traces of confusion.
That was because what Yeoju was painting was none other than the spar between the two of them.
And of all moments, it was the scene where Kanghyeok had taken a harsh kick to the pit of his stomach from Yeoni and was stumbling backward.
“Remarkable. Remarkable.”
Since the faces had not yet been drawn, Gwanghae only looked interested.
“I can practically see with my own eyes how this kick was thrown.”
He was so absorbed in the painting that he even forgot his dignity and mimicked the kick himself.
Though receiving high praise from Gwanghae, Yeoju did not turn her head even once.
She was that focused.
“Uh... if she draws the faces exactly too...”
Kanghyeok pointed at Yeoju with an awkward look on his face.
Though it was a useless gesture anyway.
Having spent all her time describing surgeries day after day, Yeoju’s skill in depicting faces had improved tremendously as well.
As a result, anyone could tell at a glance that the figures were Kanghyeok and Yeoni.
“Hoh. Is this not you?”
Gwanghae was no exception, and turned to Kanghyeok.
“And this is you.”
Then he turned to Yeoni as well.
The two of them had no choice but to bow their heads.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“So the two of you spar often, it seems.”
“Pardon? Ah... yes. Every morning. It is hardly worthy of being called a spar. I am merely learning from her.”
Kanghyeok answered while repeatedly bowing his head.
“You are learning? Does a physician also practice martial arts?”
At Gwanghae’s question, Kanghyeok quoted the answer he had once heard from Heo Jun.
“If one wishes to handle another’s body, should one not first know how to handle one’s own?”
He did not entirely agree with the statement, but he still thought it sounded impressive.
Sure enough, Gwanghae nodded.
Perhaps because he was still young, he seemed easily swayed by words that sounded grand.
“With my wrist hurting, I walked the night road and ended up meeting a noble benefactor. Hahaha.”
He laughed for a while, then made a suggestion.
“Would you be willing to match skills in front of me once? I would like to paint that scene.”
There was even a trace of earnestness in Gwanghae’s voice.
There was, of course, a martial arts training ground inside the palace.
But for a prince to go there and watch would look strange enough already; how could he then paint it as well?
So he had only ever painted from imagination.
He had never once painted while watching it in person.
At his suggestion, Kanghyeok and Yeoni silently nodded.
“We will do so. Please do not scold us too much if it proves dull.”
“Scold you? I am the one making an unreasonable request.”
Gwanghae nodded, looking as though it made no difference to him.
Before the spar, Kanghyeok faced Yeoni.
Then, in an extremely small voice, he whispered,
“Yeon, you have to lose.”
“What? Why?”
“Judging by the prince’s personality...”
Kanghyeok glanced toward Gwanghae.
The prince was already staring at the two of them with excitement in his eyes.
At a glance, he looked exactly like an overly competitive middle-school boy who hated losing.
“He’ll probably want to fight the winner of the two. If that happens, there’s a chance your being a woman might be exposed, so...”
“Ah, as expected of you, young master. Understood.”
“But do it without making it obvious. All right?”
“Please do not worry.”
Yeoni nodded reassuringly, then bumped fists with Kanghyeok.
“All right, then here I come.”
“Come at me.”
The two exchanged several kicks and knife-hand strikes.
Papapapak—
They were moving quickly enough to make those watching break into sweaty palms.
Even Gwanghae stopped painting and became completely absorbed in watching.
After sparring for quite a while, Kanghyeok sent a signal.
Now.
Yes.
Using his large build as a weapon, Kanghyeok charged straight at Yeoni.
According to Makbong’s expression, it was the force of a wild boar fleeing a mountain fire.
In any case, no matter how skilled Yeoni was, it was the sort of momentum that made taking him head-on difficult.
She hurriedly moved to dodge to the side.
No, she tried to.
“Hup!”
Without slowing his charge, Kanghyeok shot out his right hand and seized Yeoni by the shoulder.
Then he threw her to the ground, and the effect was tremendous.
Udatangtang—
Yeoni rolled across the ground in a cloud of dust,
all while secretly raising a thumbs-up.
Thrilled by the bold, decisive match, Gwanghae leapt to his feet, unable to contain his excitement.
“Oh!”
Kanghyeok quickly ran over to the fallen Yeoni.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes. Your skill has improved, hasn’t it?”
“It was perfect. Look at the prince. Wasn’t I right?”
Gwanghae was clapping with delight.
Even as he shrugged off his outer robe and threw it aside.
“Excellent. You should match skills with me as well.”
“Ah, yes.”
Kanghyeok shook his head from side to side as he gathered his thoughts.
I don’t know how good he is, but he must be better than me.
In Kanghyeok’s own estimation, his skill had only just barely risen above beginner level.
Among his entourage, there was hardly anyone he could beat except Dolseok.
Gwanghae, on the other hand, seemed to belong among the quite skilled.
He looked that way even from the way he warmed up.
Right. I’ll just wave my arms around a bit, get hit, and fall over. Without making it obvious...
While Kanghyeok was wondering how best to lose, Gwanghae approached him.
“Come, then. Let us begin.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Do not hold back.”
“Yes. I will keep that firmly in mind.”
Resolving that he absolutely had to lose, Kanghyeok bowed his head.
And then, a moment later, he had no choice but to let out a cry of disbelief.
“Huh?”[1]