All-Purpose Salve
“You called it Manneunggo?”
“Yes.”
“By ointment, do you mean the kind of trauma salve one spreads on wounds, or the plaster one sticks on boils?”
“It can serve those purposes as well, but it has far more uses than that.”
“Hm? Far more uses? For example?”
Dang Un-sang watched his seven-year-old son speak with careful precision and smiled, intrigued.
“From a woman’s cosmetics to coating our Dang Family poisons onto weapons—I believe it will serve all of them.”
“You do realize our main house already coats hidden weapons with poison?”
“I do. Yet from what I have seen, it is limited to only a handful of toxins: the venom of the poison-arrow frog that lives in the southern wilderness, a few kinds of viper venom, and so on—brushed onto throwing knives, daggers, or feather needles.”
“Well, of course.”
It was true that the Sichuan Dang Family had long coated its hidden weapons with poison. The drawback was that only a few poisons could be applied that way. A liquid venom that ran like water simply evaporated before it could do much good; a powdered toxin could not be painted on at all. Poisons sticky enough to cling to a blade yet still retain their potency without drying out were rare. No matter how lethal a toxin one concocted, if it could not be fixed to a weapon it was useful only when mixed into food or lofted on the wind as powder. That was why, even after the family developed one of the so-called Ten Great Deadly Poisons of the realm, the ways it could actually be employed remained pitifully few. The saying “As long as you refuse food offered by strangers, you need not fear Dang poison” had not arisen for nothing.
“If we blend the venom into the Manneunggo I have in mind and then apply it, we will be able to coat hidden weapons with any number of compound poisons.”
“Hmm…”
The family did have a solution of sorts. The secret weapons whose forging arts had been lost had once solved the problem with special internal reservoirs that held poison. The manufacturing methods still existed in incomplete manuals—half-finished secrets with the crucial passages missing—which amounted to total loss. The cause lay in the craftsmen’s closed apprenticeship system and the political rivalries among them. A master never passed his entire craft even to his own blood; hoarding technique was how he raised his own value and power within the clan. After several bloody purges wiped out most of those craftsmen and the hidden-weapon masters, their skills vanished with them. Hui-yeom’s proposal therefore sounded uncommonly tempting. Unexpectedly earnest and well thought out, the boy’s words made Dang Un-sang ponder for a long moment before he finally nodded.
“…There is sense in what you say. How do you propose to make it?”
“I have several ideas, but they still need research. Which is why I would like to request one servant and free access to the medicinal storeroom.”
“Hmm…”
Dang Un-sang considered. The family’s fortunes might be declining, yet they were not so poor that they had to forbid a child’s play. On the contrary, that the next head of a house famous for poison should show interest in compounding medicine and ask to try his hand was a good thing.
Medicine is not made so easily, of course, but this is the first time the boy has ever voiced an ambition of his own. Would it be right to stop him simply because I can already see it will not work?
In the end he gave a ready nod.
“I will instruct the inner court to assign you a maidservant. Do as you like, but do not waste the truly precious ingredients.”
“Thank you, Father.”
Dang Hui-yeom bowed with precise courtesy and withdrew. Watching his son leave with a fond smile, Dang Un-sang muttered under his breath.
“The lad’s dignity is fine for his age, but must father and son feel so distant…?”
Wearing an expression both wistful and pleased, he set down his brush and looked up at the sky.
“It can never happen, of course—but if Yeom’s words ever came true, how fine that would be.”
Unaware of his father’s quiet disappointment, Hui-yeom headed straight for the medicinal storeroom. When he presented the Family Head’s handwritten order, the pharmacist on duty accepted the visit with a faintly sour look.
“An ointment, is it… So what materials do you need? For a plaster one would ordinarily want honey, beef tallow, and lard, and then whatever medicinal herbs will give it its effect. What do you intend to use?”
An ointment, as a rule, was made by blending sticky, moisturizing bases such as honey, beef tallow, and lard with various medicinals in secret proportions and simmering them for a long time. Hui-yeom shook his head at the pharmacist’s question.
“The ointment I mean to make will contain none of those.”
“…What?”
The pharmacist’s face openly said What is this child talking about? Hui-yeom’s list of requirements, however, was quite specific.
“Do you happen to have any oil that has no scent? Something cheap and easy to obtain would be even better.”
“Mm…”
The pharmacist thought a moment, then nodded.
“In that case, how about camellia oil or safflower oil? Neither has much odor, and both are cheaper than tallow or lard.”
“What of their viscosity?”
“Both are liquid oils. They are neither sticky like honey nor solidifying like tallow or lard, so they make poor bases for an ointment. Even mixed with honey they would only thin it and reduce the viscosity. Simmering will not make them sticky; they are frying oils, after all.”
“I see. Then may I have those two oils and some honeycomb as well?”
“Honeycomb? Honeybees or wasps?”
“Ah—honeybee comb.”
“Well, we stock both, since both are used as medicinal materials…”
“Then five doe of each oil and one geun of dried honeybee comb, if you please.”
“That much?”
“Is there a problem?”
Even though the Dang Family’s resources could easily supply such quantities, the pharmacist thought the amount excessive for a child’s game and was about to protest. One look at Hui-yeom’s perfectly composed face and the deep-green robe that clothed him closed the man’s mouth. Only members of the main family were permitted to wear true green. A mere pharmacist had nothing to gain by contradicting the boy.
“Nothing at all. Where shall I have them delivered?”
“There is a kitchen here, is there not? Bring them to the kitchen.”
Delicate compounding work… in a kitchen? For heaven’s sake…
But orders were orders. The pharmacist recorded the withdrawal in the ledger and had the servants carry the requested materials to the kitchen.
“Good. Time to run an experiment.”
The Manneunggo Hui-yeom intended to create was none other than natural petroleum jelly—Vaseline.
Ordinary Vaseline was made by decolorizing and refining the residue left after distilling petroleum. Though its origin was crude oil, the finished product was astonishingly non-toxic and used for countless purposes—even eaten. The natural version Hui-yeom meant to produce, however, would employ the paraffin component of beeswax rather than petroleum. Even in the twenty-first century, parents of children with sensitive skin sometimes made this natural paraffin jelly themselves.
My sister-in-law was such a fanatical mother that she once dragged me along to make natural Vaseline and natural soap. Who would have thought those days would come in handy? Life really is unpredictable, Hui-yeom thought, and laughed to himself.
In his diagnosis, the poisons of the Sichuan Dang Family remained deadly, yet they were difficult to deliver. While the art of hidden weapons still flourished that shortcoming had not mattered much; an opponent busy dodging projectiles from every direction often failed to notice the toxin carried on the wind. Once the web of throwing weapons could no longer pin an enemy in place, however, no one simply stood still and waited to be poisoned. Poisons therefore had to be scattered over wide areas, which only drained the family’s already strained coffers further. Since the lost hidden-weapon techniques could not be restored overnight, the solution Hui-yeom settled on was to coat ordinary projectiles with poison and thereby raise their lethality.
The family had already tried something similar, using honey or ordinary ointments to bind other toxins exactly as he planned. The problems had been smell and portability. A star knife coated with poisoned honey and tucked into a sleeve filled the air with sweetness that drew insects; a plaster-based coating reeked of medicinal funk. Either way, the scent announced the weapon’s presence and ruined any chance of ambush. The sticky mess that clung to clothing was merely an extra nuisance.
Hui-yeom judged that Vaseline plus a purpose-made hidden-weapon case would solve both problems, and so he had begun the work.
Just as he prepared to start the experiment, a girl approached and bowed deeply. Her complexion was unusually fair, her full red lips striking against it; she was a quietly elegant beauty.
“You are the maidservant assigned to assist me?”
“Yes. This lowly one is called Ye-eun.”
“And your surname?”
“…Before my family fell, we used the name Han.”
Lowering long lashes, the maidservant spoke with perfect courtesy; her manner was refined and graceful. Hui-yeom tilted his head without thinking.
“How old are you this year?”
“Twelve.”
“Your bearing is truly lovely and your speech elegant. You are composed and carry yourself with dignity—rare qualities at your age. That is the deportment of someone carefully educated. Were you originally of a prominent clan?”
At his words every servant in the kitchen stared at him blankly.
Who is talking to whom?
Is that a child, an adult, or a monster?
Seven years old? He’s joking, right?
The speech of the seven-year-old boy was so far beyond his years that it bordered on the uncanny. Yet that, too, was calculated. For the many plans Hui-yeom carried in his head to succeed, the people around him needed to regard him as an extraordinary prodigy. That the effect sometimes crossed from “extraordinary” into “bizarre” was something only he failed to notice.
The maidservant Ye-eun blinked in momentary confusion, then lowered her head again.
“How many fallen houses are there besides this lowly one’s? Still, the Sichuan Dang Family has shown us kindness and allowed us to live as human beings; I can only be grateful.”
“…And your father and mother?”
“…The Dang Family gave them a sunny grave.”
“Ah… how tragic.”
Hui-yeom sighed like an old man, then shook his head.
“I am sorry.”
“There is no need.”
“Well then, let us bury the past and live for the days ahead. Today I need your help with something.”
“Command me.”
“I intend to make a new kind of ointment and will need several experiments. First, crush this honeycomb finely…”
“Yes.”
While kitchen maids watched with open curiosity, Hui-yeom and Ye-eun began simmering oil and honeycomb. They placed measured oil and comb into a vessel carefully sterilized with distilled spirits in place of ethanol, then melted the mixture gently over low heat, pressing and stirring with a spatula. More oil was added until the proportion felt right; the liquid was poured off and left to cool and set. They repeated the process again and again, varying the amounts of comb and oil until the cooled jelly possessed exactly the viscosity and firmness Hui-yeom wanted.
As she worked diligently, Ye-eun asked,
“Young Master, would it not set more reliably if we used honey or tallow or lard instead of these liquid oils?”
“Those are the usual bases for ointments, yes. But beef tallow and lard have a strong savory smell that does not suit the purpose of this Manneunggo, and they spoil easily.”
“Smell?”
“Yes. Smell is vital. If an enemy detects a hidden weapon by its scent, the weapon becomes useless, does it not?”
“Ah…”
A hidden weapon was hidden precisely so that it would not be noticed. If its location could be betrayed by odor, every advantage was lost—an obvious truth.
“That is why we avoid lard and tallow.”
“I see. And these oils were recommended because they have no scent.”
“Exactly.”
“What of honey, then?”
“Honey never spoils, which is a virtue, but it also smells sweet and draws insects.”
“I understand…”
Ye-eun bowed her head in comprehension.
“Forgive this lowly one for presuming to question you.”
“Forgive? When a person is curious it is only natural to ask. Think nothing of it.”
“Then may I ask one thing more?”
“Speak.”
“To make certain the toxicity truly soaks into the ointment, should we not simmer the poison together with it?”
“That is how one makes a medicinal plaster, yes. Most biological toxins, however, are ruined by heat, so one cannot make a poison salve that way. Mineral poisons might survive, but this base is not meant solely for poison in any case. Think of it as a blank foundation that can serve many purposes—like a sheet of white paper.”
“Many purposes?”
“Well, one could infuse medicinal properties and use it as a healing ointment or plaster; blend in poison and coat hidden weapons; mix pigments for rouge and face paint; grind charcoal fine and use it to draw eyebrows. The Manneunggo itself will have moisturizing power, so it could simply be rubbed on cracked or rough hands.”
“A truly versatile medicine.”
“Indeed.”
Ye-eun nodded, then tilted her head as a new doubt struck her.
“Is this not the first time Young Master has ever made Manneunggo? How is it that you already know so many uses and effects…?”
“Ahem, ahem!”
Hui-yeom cleared his throat and answered with shameless confidence.
“When one reaches my level, one can simply foresee such things.”
“…Yes.”
Yet you do not even know the exact proportions and have to experiment like this… The thought crossed Ye-eun’s mind, but she kept it behind her teeth.
Whether or not he sensed her private skepticism, Hui-yeom wiped sweat from his brow while stirring the pot and declared,
“Once this Manneunggo is finished, every weapon of our house will carry a lethal coat of poison—a moist, long-lasting poison.”
And not long after, Hui-yeom succeeded in completing his Vaseline.