Reviving the Lion and the Root (3)
A Magyo underling who had schemed against the father and daughter of the Sword Tomb Sect had been captured.
I hadn't paid it much mind, since I'd already heard about it through Dang Yuri.
"One of the Ten Demons, a disciple of Yangma called Soyangma?"
"That's right. But don't worry. He's not worth fretting over at all."
I'd sooner spend my energy pondering how to get Moyong Seol pregnant than worry about Soyangma's disciple Son Geun.
It wasn't complacency or underestimation—his plan was already in ruins, so there was no cause for concern.
A disciple of one of the Ten Demons? Hypnotic poison? How many of those Ten Demons had truly slaved away grinding down orphans in earnest pursuit of Magyo's revival and vengeance against the righteous Murim?
Take Yo-ma: hadn't she scattered courtesans across the Central Plains under the pretext of honey traps, all to rescue orphans?
Of course, Yangma was one who sincerely wished for Cheonma and Magyo's resurrection, but his brains were on par with Cheonma's—or worse.
A disciple handpicked by such a man was hardly likely to be competent.
Seophonsul might give pause, but once you knew the culprit was resorting to such tricks, there was nothing to fear.
Even the collaborator inside Moyong Sega—Poison Demon Dang Yuri, whom he still thought was 'his side'—doomed him to a single outcome.
"Mmph! Mmmph!"
Here was a masked warrior who'd been delivered bound into Moyong Sega.
"I heard Soyangma's at the peak Jeoljeong level."
"That'd put him around the elite of our Moyong guards."
Deputy Family Head Moyong San pinned down the man—who was writhing on the floor, trying to roll away despite being trussed up like a hog—with his foot.
"Right. And now you're planning to use this guy to produce a pill that convinces 'Dokhwang'?"
"Yes, that's the idea, Deputy Head."
It seemed the Sword Saint—his brother—had given him some prior notice.
"Can I know what kind of medicine it is?"
"Didn't the Family Head mention it?"
"He left the judgment to you. Specifically, since it's tied to 'the patient's illness,' he said he couldn't speak freely about Dokhwang."
"Ah, I see."
Even among family, you couldn't casually discuss someone else's ailment—especially not a senior figure in the Central Plains Murim from whom we sought major aid.
"Once the treatment's done and we get Dokhwang's permission, I'll explain."
"Sounds like Dokhwang's got a serious condition. Hasn't shown his face in years. I know I shouldn't pry, but..."
Moyong San lowered his voice cautiously.
"It's not something like Jeolmok Jeong striking a man in his old age, is it?"
"Deputy Head."
"Hey, don't look at me like that. They say men get more feminine as they age. If even Dokhwang—fiercer and more manly than anyone—had changed like that, no wonder he stays hidden."
"It's nothing like that."
At least compared to that peak master who'd sought Gyohwa Preservation for similar effects, only to tumble into a Magyo trap and end up half-woman.
"Once we craft the Extreme Yang Pill for Dokhwang and he takes it to cure his illness, he'll burst back onto the Central Plains Murim with that same wild, masculine aura as before. And he won't forget his debt to the Moyong Family."
"To the Moyong Family, huh? Not to Physician Seok?"
"Since Physician Seok is Moyong's man, his gratitude naturally goes to Moyong."
"...Thank you, Physician Seok."
Moyong San dabbed at his eyes with his sleeve, misty with emotion.
"I knew you were our guy when you stuck by Seol's side despite her bullying you. Watching you treat our warriors' ailments mid-research on her Jeolmok Jeong—I've thought a dozen times you're the righteous healer the Baekdo Murim has longed for."
"You're too kind—it's embarrassing."
"No, you deserve all the praise. Anything you need, just say the word. I'll have my men fetch it."
"You've already gotten me what I asked for—and even prepared it as planned. That's more than enough. I'll do my utmost for the best outcome."
I pointed to a coffin placed toward Seongnakwon.
Opening the lid revealed a mirror positioned to clearly show the face, along with a night pearl glowing softly.
"One more favor before you go?"
"What is it?"
"Put him in there with it. Face up."
"Easy enough."
Moyong San shoved Son Geun into the coffin.
Thud thud thud!
Sensing he'd been enclosed, Son Geun thrashed wildly, kicking up a racket.
"Troublesome. Should I seal his pressure points?"
"No need. I learned a great suppression technique from Moyong Seol this time."
I drew my wooden sword.
"Hah—!"
Thwack.
I slammed it down into the coffin.
"......"
"See? Quiet now."
"That's not quite the same as—"
Thud thud thud!
It got louder.
Not liking his renewed frenzy, I raised the wooden sword again and swung wide as I'd been taught.
Thwack.
This time, the solar plexus. Resistance paused briefly, but he kept bucking.
And the wooden sword drifted lower.
Thud, thud-thud, thwack.
Eventually, Son Geun's struggles ebbed.
As the strikes passed his navel and went below, he finally stopped resisting.
"Now..."
With his movements slowed, I drove not the wooden sword—but a long acupuncture needle—into the crown of his head.
Pshk!
"......"
Son Geun twitched briefly.
"He's fine. Not dead."
"Th-that looked pretty deep...?"
"It hit bone, but don't worry. Every pierce was precise."
Suppressing with medicine beat brute force any day.
"If he resists more, I'd have to target organs without bone protection—but look."
Son Geun went still.
"This forces sleep."
* * *
A little later.
If wished earnestly enough, my body made it real.
But it had to be truly earnest, so we needed to pinpoint the desire.
Hence.
"Think this'll do?"
"Shorter than a Shaolin monk's, Physician."
I'd shaved Son Geun's head bald.
Not just short—using available tools, I'd scraped it down to black dots on scalp.
"Hmm..."
"Something wrong, little lady?"
"Nah. Just... confirms he's a true master."
Moyong Seol fiddled with her sword hilt, wistful.
"Wanna spar him?"
"To gauge how strong a Ten Demon's disciple is firsthand—and size up future threats to you."
"Smart idea, but sadly, no."
"Him specifically?"
"Men in general."
Men would fixate their eyes in weird places against Moyong Seol.
I'd never allow it.
"Women are fine, then?"
"Yep. Most hypnotic poison users are women anyway."
"For real?"
"Dead serious. Women outnumber men."
In a hundred hypnotic poison assassins, ninety-five were women.
"Usually it's mixed or more men, right?"
"Sure. But talented boys all died."
"Died...? Why?"
"You might find it ridiculous."
Truly.
"Cheonma got drunk, challenged some kids around thirteen—barely second-rate—to test their strength."
"......Pardon?"
"A Hyeongyeong master unleashed full Cheonma Divine Art on kids not even first-rate. Killed them, then tsked, 'Tch, can't even withstand this?' and kept boozing."
"Uh..."
"Crazy in every way. Only the Family Head can rein him in."
"......."
"So we need allies."
The Extreme Yang Pill was ready.
Blood-red, made mostly from my blood rather than herbs.
"If Dokhwang joins us, even if the Family Head can't face Cheonma directly someday, Dokhwang buys time."
Drip.
"Ready."
I pried open Son Geun's mouth and dropped Extreme Yang liquid onto his lips.
I stepped back; Moyong Seol yanked the needle from his head and slammed the coffin lid shut.
"Ugh... uugh..."
Slowly, he regained consciousness inside.
"Where am I...? H-heuk?!"
Probably screamed at his reflection in the night pearl-lit mirror.
Lick.
He'd swallowed the Extreme Yang liquid clinging to his lips. I signaled Moyong Seol.
Clang!
As she shoved the lid aside, I hurled another needle.
"What the—"
Pshk!
It struck Son Geun, freezing him again. I checked his head.
His hair was gone—so if he desperately wished it back—
"Ph-Physician? His h-head...!"
"......!!"
No change up top.
"......."
But elsewhere...
Throb, throb.
"Ha."
Too hasty? Or since he'd never been bald, the wish wasn't earnest enough—maybe his lower desperation won out.
"The roots that should've grown up top sprouted down below instead. Heh."
Son Geun must've had some urgent needs down there.