Chapter 11
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Chapter 4. Deal and Test (1)
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Flying Tiger raised a counterargument.
"But the Martial Qin Alliance is setting out tomorrow. Surely they won't delay their departure just to dig into this?"
"From the Martial Qin Alliance's perspective, they can't afford that. They wouldn't want to look incompetent to the other allied forces before the campaign even begins. So if the Six Jia Gate suffers heavy losses, they'll probably leave them behind and march out anyway. And they'll try to hush the whole thing up."
"That's what I think too."
"But this isn't something they can just let slide. It shakes the alliance's internal unity. So they'll march out, but conduct a discreet investigation on the side. They might even already be tracking leads."
"So what's your take?"
"We leave. But no need to rush. Like you said, tomorrow's their departure day. Within three days. Sound good?"
"Three days..."
Flying Tiger mulled it over briefly.
He had to get out to avoid getting caught in the uproar, but the timeline felt too tight.
He had some money to collect from various places, and with so little cash on hand, he wanted to take on one more quick, lucrative bounty if possible.
Plus, Chang'an City was an international hub blooming with splendid civilization at the eastern end of the Silk Road. No other place in the Central Plains matched its glamour, so he needed to stock up on supplies here while he could. Preparing to leave would take time.
Until now, safety had come first. He'd even thought that as long as she was by his side, he wouldn't care if they were penniless.
But their time together was running out. Now, more than ever, he wanted to treat her like the treasure she was.
"What if I go find Pung-sam first and quietly take care of him?"
"That would buy us some breathing room. But you know as well as I do..."
"I know. No overdoing it. But I've got a hunch it's worth poking around. Here's the deal: If I can't find Pung-sam, we leave within three days like you said. But if I track him down and handle him before then, give me a fortnight to prepare. I've got a lot to sort out. Fair?"
Gong Won-yeong gave a weary, languid smile, her face etched with exhaustion.
"Us? Suddenly needing all that preparation? What, planning to get me a flower sedan or something?"
"Yeah. That's the idea."
"..."
They agreed to leave Chang'an City in as little as three days or no more than a fortnight.
But all that talk turned out to be for nothing.
Gong Won-yeong didn't wake even as the sun climbed to midday. Alarmed, Flying Tiger checked on her and found her breathing so faint it was barely there.
She was unconscious.
They had overdone it the night before. And the day prior, her condition had felt unusually good all day long.
The candle burns brightest just before it goes out.
The saying flashed through Flying Tiger's mind, sending a shiver through his entire body. He pulled himself together and hurriedly summoned a physician. It was the same doctor who'd been treating Gong Won-yeong for nearly a year, paid handsomely each month—nearly one nyang of gold per visit.
Flying Tiger clung to his fraying sanity while waiting, but when the physician finally arrived, he took one feel of her pulse and shook his head regretfully.
"Ahem! Look, you need to prepare yourself..."
"Says who?"
"Pardon?"
"Says who?"
"Uh... well..."
"Open your eyes and check again. Properly."
"...Yes."
The physician had pegged Gong Won-yeong as a lost cause the moment he'd laid eyes on her upon arriving at the inn. She could have gone at any time, and today was just that day. He'd even hinted at it months ago.
No hope.
All he could do was delay the seizures and ease the pain.
But now that the moment had come, her companion couldn't accept it. The physician had seen this denial from families before; it was nothing new.
The problem was those eyes.
He prided himself on his experience, having dealt with all sorts of difficult patients and quacks. But those eyes were something else entirely.
The pressure he felt was palpable.
Whatever he said wouldn't land. One wrong word, and he'd be the one done for!
He realized that if he was going to tell Flying Tiger to accept death, he needed to steel himself first.
In the end, with his own resolve lacking, he stalled for time, meticulously checking her pulse for a full incense stick's worth. It was mere formality. Sweating profusely, he glanced at Flying Tiger, who stared back with hollow eyes and a raspy voice.
"Again."
"...Yes."
"Again" came eleven more times from Flying Tiger's lips, deepening the physician's dread with each utterance.
Flying Tiger knew he was throwing a tantrum. He knew, but he couldn't help it. If he let go of this last lifeline, Gong Won-yeong's death would become inevitable. He couldn't release it.
He wasn't ready to accept it.
Both Flying Tiger and the physician were dying inside for their own reasons when a saving voice broke through.
"Hey, Physician Joo. Good work. You can step out now."
Physician Joo, who'd endured Flying Tiger for at least half a day, looked up in shock at the two men at the room's entrance.
A squarely built middle-aged man with a heavy face and an elderly one who looked gaunt and prickly.
Relief washed over Physician Joo's face as he stole a glance at Flying Tiger before scurrying out like a fugitive.
Thud, thud.
The middle-aged man approached Flying Tiger. The predatory glare Flying Tiger fixed on him was no different from the one he'd given Physician Joo moments ago, yet the man remained unflappable.
"Flying Tiger, do you recognize me?"
"Iron Scripture. I've seen you from afar a time or two. Yeah, what brings you here?"
The square-faced middle-aged man was Iron Scripture, known as Hidden Moon's right-hand man from the Western Merchant Guild. He'd met the Fufeng Four Heroes yesterday on Hidden Moon's errand. Flying Tiger and Iron Scripture had never spoken face-to-face; their encounters had been mere passings.
"In this situation, what else could I want with you? Elder, please come in."
Iron Scripture turned and beckoned. The old man waiting outside entered the room.
"Allow me to introduce him. Physician Heo, one of Chang'an's top physicians. Took some doing to bring him here."
Not even the king can command the divine physician Heo Go-so-won.
It was perfect timing. Flying Tiger was ready to discard his rotten rope and grasp at any straw.
Without preamble, he rushed to Physician Heo, dropped to his knees, and bowed low.
"Physician, please save her."
"Hmph! This old man has no skill to raise the dead."
"I..."
"Quiet! But if she wants to live, I can lend a hand. So if you plan to get cheeky with me, say it now. I'll leave at once."
"No, sir!"
Bad first impression?
After the rebuke, Flying Tiger bowed even lower from his kneeling position. Physician Heo clicked his tongue in annoyance and approached Gong Won-yeong to take her pulse.
The examination lasted a full two hours.
Throughout, Flying Tiger didn't budge from his prostrated pose. Iron Scripture leaned against a corner wall, arms crossed, watching silently.
To his disappointment, Gong Won-yeong didn't wake.
But mercifully, her ragged breathing had steadied, and her face looked much more at ease.
"She's passed the crisis for now."
"Thank you."
"No, that's exactly the problem."
"What do you mean...?"
"Her breathing's stabilized, but regaining her lost consciousness will be difficult."
"...!"
"And crises like today's will keep coming. Bigger, fiercer ones, coming more frequently. To be frank, we scraped by this time, but I can't guarantee the next."
"Isn't there a treatment?"
"Do you think I'd toy with a precious life using my meager skills? Who knows—maybe someone like the Five Prosperities Immortal, called the reincarnation of Bian Que, could cure her. Or with spirit medicines like Snow Spirit Fruit or Black Wind Grass. But with my abilities, that's as far as I go."
Five Prosperities Immortal? Snow Spirit Fruit or Black Wind Grass?
Could he really save her if he obtained those?
Iron Scripture saw Flying Tiger flinch while still bowed and clicked his tongue, reading his thoughts.
He'd want to scour heaven and earth for them, but without a miracle, they were impossible to find.
The Five Prosperities Immortal was famous enough that even Iron Scripture had heard of him.
A master physician said to possess the world's greatest medical arts, shrouded in mystical legends.
Countless tales surrounded him, but no one claimed to have seen him. Rumors even said the emperor had people searching.
Some said he'd ascended to immortality long ago—finding him was like a needle in a haystack.
And the Snow Spirit Fruit and Black Wind Grass Physician Heo mentioned were true "spirit medicines."
Why else call them "divine"?
The whole world would go mad hunting them, and even mountains of gold wouldn't help if fate didn't align.
How could Flying Tiger obtain such things?
To Iron Scripture, chasing them was laughable—like waiting for them to drop from the sky.
And sure enough.
Flying Tiger asked how to find or acquire them, and Physician Heo replied coldly.
"I don't know. And one piece of advice."
"...?"
"That woman must be precious to you, right? If so, start preparing to let her go with dignity from now on."
"But there's a way to save her, isn't there?"
"Chasing pipe dreams while neglecting what's right in front of you?"
"But..."
"Finish your preparations first. If you still have time after, then go hunt for people or spirit medicines—do what you want."
Thud!
Flying Tiger smashed his forehead against the floor and trembled, speechless.
His mind must have been a storm of torment.
Physician Heo gave him a pitying glance and left. Iron Scripture turned to the inn window, gazing at the darkening scenery as he waited.
Time passed, and dusk fell.
"How long do you plan to stay like that?"
"..."
"It'll be hard, but you need to pull yourself together."
"..."
"Physician Heo isn't just anyone. Even Lord Hidden Moon, whom I serve, can't command him lightly. He came only because Hidden Moon had a favor owed. Listen to what he said."
"..."
"Sigh! So stubborn. Not for here, but Lord Hidden Moon wants to see you."
"..."
"I've delivered the message, so I'll take my leave. Good luck."
Flying Tiger stared blankly at Gong Won-yeong like a soulless doll, clutching her hand, oblivious to Iron Scripture's words.
But as Iron Scripture turned to go, Flying Tiger spoke, eyes still on her.
"When you see Hidden Moon, tell him Flying Tiger owes him a great debt and will visit soon."
"When might that be?"
"Who knows. When she opens her eyes... or after she sleeps forever."
Flying Tiger's voice was utterly desolate.
