Dead Lion Revived, Dead Roots Revived (6)
[Late evening, the pavilions around the annex where Moyong Family's branch members reside. The communal dining hall.]
Among the Moyong Family's branch members, the young man known as Moyong Mu, who was said to have considerable skill, had to deeply suppress his dissatisfaction with the recent events—and keep suppressing it.
"It's unpleasant enough that he did something like that to the young lady, but why do we have to deal with all these people who keep coming to the Moyong Family begging for just one meeting with her?"
Moyong Mu spoke in a lamenting tone, but no one passing by responded.
"How long do we have to keep being mobilized like lowly guards and suffer like this?"
He'd said it hoping for a reply, but when it ended up as mere soliloquy, Moyong Mu flushed red and shot to his feet.
"This...."
His face burned crimson with rage as he slammed his seat back and stood, but from the gazes prickling his back, he could clearly hear the murmurs.
—Blames the physician when it's his own damn fault.
—If the young lady had died, how do you think the family head would have endured that grief?
—It's because the family head has found some psychological stability with her revival and stays with the family that the Moyong Family remains so stable and prestigious. If he'd abandoned the secular world to pursue the Dao, who knows what would've become of us.
Such talk wasn't happening in the dining hall right then. It had been going on long before—back before the funeral-turned-celebration banquet, as part of the warriors' laments.
—We're better off, at least. The ones who packed up and fled the family early, thinking Moyong Seol was done for—they're too ashamed to come back now.
—Just think positively about things going well. Sure, it's chaotic and exhausting right now sorting it all out, but won't it stabilize in time?
The warriors were indeed busy day in and day out handling the big and small incidents around the Moyong Family estate, but at least they complained of fatigue without showing irritation or displeasure.
Everyone except Moyong Mu, that is.
—He's just pissed 'cause he wasn't picked, right?
A while back—when the Magyo's scheme forced the Moyong Family to play along.
—You want to step up? ...Hmm, I'll think about it. But don't get your hopes up.
Moyong Mu had eagerly volunteered for the mission to save and take responsibility for the women poisoned by the aphrodisiac, but Deputy Head Moyong San hadn't looked favorably on him.
And so he was excluded.
The other Moyong Mu—same name, different characters—had boldly claimed two virgins afflicted by the aphrodisiac poison, while he himself had to spend part of his salary at a brothel just lifting some prostitute's skirts.
How unjust was that?
Who worked the hardest for the Moyong Family? And they couldn't even reward him properly?
"Damn it, damn it...."
Moyong Mu fumed but couldn't storm out.
—No one from the Moyong Family should wander outside carelessly. Reports say the Jeolmok Jeong patients from all over are starting to cross the Yellow River and head north.
The deputy head had warned the entire family.
Time had passed since the Black Sword Sect incident, and now women who'd heard the news were coming directly to the Moyong Family's medical hall, just like Yugiyeon had, seeking prescriptions for Jeolmok Jeong.
Patients naturally needed time to prepare, and the journey north required frequent rests, so it would take a while.
But the relatives who came ahead to plead on behalf of those patients?
And some sects' representatives were still lingering at inns, paying top coin, even after Moyong Seol's funeral-celebration banquet ended—without returning to their bases. Things were only going to get busier, not quieter.
"Damn it, damn it...."
In the midst of all that, there was nothing a mere first-rate warrior like Moyong Mu could do.
A typical first-rate warrior commanded respect anywhere else, but that was only in ordinary sects. In the Moyong Family—led by the world's greatest swordsman—no better than a second-rater from another sect.
So Moyong Mu sighed and lay on his bed.
Moyong Seol's treatment was a good thing, but if that Seok Mu Wol hadn't brazenly declared at the banquet hall, "I've slept with Moyong Seol," none of this would've happened.
Moyong Mu ground his teeth inwardly in frustration.
Memories distorted over time, and he hadn't said it quite like that, but Moyong Mu vented his irritation at the physician Seok Mu Wol—the root of this mess—with a torrent of inner curses.
"Tch. If only I could cure Jeolmok Jeong...!"
Then all those women from the Central Plains would—
"...Tch."
Moyong Mu swallowed his bitterness and closed his eyes.
Hoping tomorrow would be less grueling and fatiguing than today.
...
Pluck, pluck-pluck.
Shhh.
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
What had gone wrong?
Upon waking, Moyong Mu scratched his head while staring at his reflection in the spotlessly polished copper mirror—and his jaw dropped.
"...Huh?"
A fistful of his hair clutched in his hand.
As if the strands had been barely clinging to his scalp, dozens came away with just a light grip.
"......."
Moyong Mu cautiously ran his hand over his head.
A sensation where there shouldn't be one crept in where he rubbed, and he gulped before rising.
The Moyong Family's facilities were top-notch. Every room had its own small bathing area.
Moyong Mu crept carefully to the washroom, scooped water into a basin, and dunked his head.
Splash, splash, splash.
He gently combed his hair with his fingers through the water, gulped again, lifted his head, and looked in the copper mirror.
"U, uwaaaah!!"
His hair was gone.
All that remained were the thinnest, most desolate strands imaginable.
In the basin, black threads floated like unraveled silk.
"Uwaaaah!!!"
"...I never thought a single medicine would make his hair fall out like that."
"It's one my master made."
Depilatory agent. A concoction that softened the hair and roots growing from the human body, stripping the oil to make them slip out easily—slathered thickly on his head while he slept.
Thanks to that, Moyong Mu was now bald as an egg with one stroke of his hand.
A few resilient follicles survived the chemicals, clinging with their last strength, but even at best, fewer than a hundred strands.
"Give it a little time, and he'll wish for it. For his hair to grow back."
Anything half-baked goes wrong.
Even properly ripened pork belly upsets the stomach if undercooked; unripe fruit is too sour or lacks sweetness.
Wishes are the same.
If a deep desire needs time to ripen rather than being innate, it requires that time to form and mature.
"One day of observation should suffice."
Like Moyong Mu's hair.
He hadn't left his room since.
"Sudden baldness must be quite the shock."
"Physician. How will you restore his hair?"
"Hair grows back with time anyway, so let the years handle it."
"True. It's like a close shave for baldness, and hair regrows naturally."
Moyong Seol gave a wry smile at the someone's hair blazing in the fire before me.
"But is this really the fix for someone with hair loss?"
"Yes."
"Why? I read some medical texts in the pharmacy—hair loss comes from weak follicles, not hair thinning to the limit."
"It's about the person's mindset."
I tapped my heart with my thumb.
"Moyong Mu losing his hair and wishing for it to regrow isn't a big issue. His character aside. But granting the miracle of hair growth to a bald man changes everything."
"Why? Worried that a miracle regrowing hair might cause serious problems? Like more people wishing for youth or other miracles?"
"No. Because it could torment him, plunging him into mental shock."
Despair is like that.
"The frustration and loss of something possessed is indescribable, but humans ultimately accept and submit to fate."
No matter how much Moyong Mu ranted inwardly about the disaster on his head, he'd have to accept his fate.
"Better to bald the Moyong Family's internal problems and check if hair grows back than restore a natural bald man's hair only to take it away again."
Even I couldn't strip away a true miracle from someone who desperately wished for it.
"No matter our power to work miracles, we mustn't mock the earnest heart."
Moyong Mu? If there's fault.
Recklessly visiting brothels, spilling Moyong Family secrets—true or not—to prostitutes, leaking info to the Magyo.
That could be it.
And the next day.
I fed Moyong Mu the Geukyang Jihwan to confirm his hair regrew, then slathered his head with depilatory agent again, shaving it clean for good measure.