Chapter 61
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"Hah, did you see that?"
Near the lake stood a two-story pavilion, its upper floor forbidden to anyone outside the Namgung clan. From there, several of the clan's training grounds were visible at a glance. But the distance was considerable—even the sharpest eyes would see the figures on those grounds as mere toothpicks.
That is, unless those eyes belonged to Namgung Mu-cheol or the Heaven Mountain Flame Lord, Gu Hong-ma.
Gu Hong-ma twitched his beard as he spoke. "Well, first off, congratulations. That troublesome grandson of yours has finally taken his first real step. Sword qi at ten years old."
A faint, inevitable smile tugged at the lips of Namgung Mu-cheol, who had been grimacing sternly. "Ahem. He forced it out just to avoid losing. He probably doesn't even realize he did it."
But that first time was the most crucial. How much suffering did it take to produce even that one burst? Knowing this well, Gu Hong-ma snorted dismissively. "Tsk, spare me the false modesty. We can see right through it."
"Khmm!"
Gu Hong-ma peered down at the training ground again. A commotion had erupted around Baek Ri-yeon.
"But how on earth did that girl catch it? She was a qi cripple who could barely cultivate!"
Namgung Mu-cheol's expression darkened once more. "She tried to dodge at first, then changed her mind mid-motion."
"Hah!"
Gu Hong-ma let out an incredulous sigh and clicked his tongue. "She doesn't know the value of her own life. Heh, kids like that die first."
"Hah, if she'd valued her life that much, would you have gotten away with taking the Azure Spirit Oil?"
She wouldn't have been swept up in the landslide, wouldn't have found the All Gods' pill-refining chamber. Nor the oil itself.
Gu Hong-ma stroked his beard nonchalantly. "Taking it? The kid agreed to it."
Namgung Mu-cheol slammed the railing. "Don't spout nonsense. Do you know how much trouble you've caused me?!"
"Enough with the nonsense worse than nothing. You think I'll give it back just because you whine? I wouldn't have taken it if I planned to. You know my circumstances, brother. So why did you call me here?"
In the Namgung clan's infirmary.
I'd thought my luck had turned when I grabbed the splintered wooden sword. But apparently, it only went as far as grabbing it.
I sniffed the familiar herbal scent, feeling glum. Namgung Wan loomed like a ghost, his face on the verge of explosion. Across from him, an elderly physician examined my palm and groaned.
"You caught a flying splintered wooden sword, and this is the wound? No matter how I look... it seems like a blade injury."
"What nonsense is this?"
Namgung Wan inspected the wound and grimaced. "This is... no way...?"
It was worth the shock. I nodded emphatically. I'd only confirmed it myself after seeing the injury.
Right before the wooden sword snapped, the odd flow of Namgung Ryu-cheong's inner energy—that was him producing sword qi!
Sword qi at ten years old.
He was a real monster. Even my father, said to be a heaven-sent prodigy, hadn't managed it until twelve. Of course, Namgung Ryu-cheong's qi was so faint it barely qualified, and it lasted only a moment. But the power packed into it was enough to lacerate my hand.
And Namgung Wan had realized it too.
"That crazy bastard..."
But he didn't look pleased. If anything, he seemed angrier. And rightly so—wooden swords weren't meant to channel sword qi. Even cheap iron ones couldn't handle it. The sword couldn't withstand the infused energy.
If iron struggled, wood was hopeless. Slicing my hand was lucky. If the sword hadn't shattered and exploded instead, the damage would've been far worse.
This was basic knowledge for any martial artist.
The physician cleared his throat awkwardly at Namgung Wan's cursing. "Ahem."
"Can it be healed? There must be no complications!"
"If we suture it properly, keep it immobile, and support it with inner energy, there should be no issues."
"Support with inner energy?"
"I mean meditative breathing exercises. But the young lady is a qi..."
The physician trailed off, sensing the chill. Namgung Wan was glaring murderously.
"If inner energy is needed... assistance from another person should ensure full recovery without aftereffects."
I watched the exchange, mildly amused.
Being called a qi cripple? Whatever, I'm used to it.
I'd heard it so often it didn't faze me. But Namgung Wan seemed worried I'd be hurt by it.
Well, better not to hear it anyway.
His thoughtfulness warmed my chest, and I grinned broadly.
Namgung Wan bellowed. "Your hand's a shredded rag, and you're grinning?!"
"..."
"What are you waiting for? Treat her! Do your absolute best!"
"Of course, of course."
The physician, accustomed to Namgung Wan's temper, swiftly removed the poultice from my wound.
"How's that?"
"No feeling at all."
"Numbness is taking well."
He began heating a needle over a flame. The wound hadn't bothered me much, but seeing the needle suddenly made me want to faint.
A servant approached with a rolled cloth. "Bite down on this."
Seeing it made me want to faint even more.
"Will it hurt?"
"The anesthetic should prevent pain. But just in case."
I'd been stitched up plenty in my past life and regression—plenty of injuries. But that eerie sensation of thread through flesh... even with anesthesia, ugh, you never got used to it.
Panicking, I unwittingly clutched Namgung Wan's sleeve with my good hand.
He looked down at me pityingly. "You stared at your mangled palm without flinching, and now you're acting spoiled?"
"It's scary."
I pouted, gripping tighter. "It's numb, so it'll be fine."
"That swish-swish feeling of thread sliding through skin—it's weird!"
"Numb means no feeling."
"Liar!"
"Aish, shut it. Hold her."
Servants pinned my limbs at his command. He grabbed my torso.
"Begin."
"Wait, wait!"
"Do it now."
"Nooo!"
When did I fall asleep?
Still groggy, I tried to rise. A firm grip on my wrist jolted me fully awake, chasing away the drowsiness. Even though they'd restrained me, my hand throbbed with tears-inducing pain.
"Don't move your hand."
It was Yahul.
Right, I got hurt.
In my daze, I'd forgotten and tried using my right hand as usual. I rubbed my teary eyes with my left.
My last memory was drifting off in the infirmary under painkillers. But now I was in my quarters, provided by the Namgung clan.
"Lady Baek Ri-yeon! You're awake!"
The maid hurried over with a tray of medicine. When I asked how long I'd slept, my eyes widened.
"A full day has passed?"
"Yes."
She glanced at Yahul holding my wrist. "You kept trying to move it in your sleep, probably from pain. So he's been holding it all night to keep you still."
"Yahul has?"
"Yes. I offered to take over, but he insisted on doing it himself."
I stared at Yahul in surprise. Then the maid suddenly bowed deeply.
"I owe you my life, my lady. How can I ever repay this grace? I'll do whatever I can."
"No... it wasn't that big a deal... haha."
I laughed awkwardly. Truth be told, the maid and I weren't close. We'd barely spoken. Our longest chat was yesterday—er, the day before—at Namgung Ryu-cheong and Seo Ha-ryeong's spar.
It couldn't be helped. I'd kept sending her away from my quarters because of Yahul.
Not wanting to burden me, she rose quickly. "I'll report to the physician then. He said to inform him when you woke."
She hurried out. Yahul brought the cooled medicine.
I downed it in one go, grimacing and sticking out my tongue.
He eyed me with mild surprise.
"What?"
"I figured you'd make excuses not to drink it again."
I flinched at his words but played it cool. "...I drink it when I need to."
"Yeah."
He checked the empty bowl and set it aside contentedly.
Hmm. He doesn't believe me at all.