Things Don't Always Go Your Way
We stepped straight inside the blacksmith shop. The front gate was wide open anyway, so there was no one to stop us.
"Phew!"
Clang! Clang!
Oh, wow. A burly middle-aged man, easily matching Man Hanseok in sheer bulk, was swinging a hammer down on a glowing, red-hot piece of metal. He was completely shirtless, likely due to the sweltering heat of the forge, revealing a magnificent display of rugged muscles. He looks almost as built as Paeng Gyegeon, the Southern Pavilion Director.
"Oh my!" Seonwoo Seol instantly covered her eyes with both hands the moment she saw him, while Gongson Yeongji quickly hid behind her back. Yet, I could clearly see Seonwoo Seol's eyes peeking through the gaps between her fingers.
"Hey, if you're going to look, look properly. If not, turn your head away completely."
"...It's embarrassing."
My muscles aren't half bad either. Maybe I should strip off my shirt sometime too. At any rate, the deafening din of his hammering seemed to drown out our voices, so I stepped closer and called out loudly.
"Are you the master blacksmith of this forge?"
"...I am." The blacksmith turned his head toward me, revealing a face that practically screamed 'stubborn artisan.' He looked slightly older than me, but not by much—maybe five or six years? Wiping his face with the cotton cloth draped around his neck, he scanned me from head to toe and asked,
"Are you a chef?"
"Huh? Ah, yes, I am. How did you know?" What, is this guy former Eastern Depot too? How did he guess I'm a chef? But I realized the reason behind his sharp deduction almost immediately.
"You have calluses between your index finger and your palm."
Talk about an incredible eye for detail. People who frequently handle knives or iron spatulas usually develop thick calluses right in that spot between the index finger and the palm, and he had spotted it instantly.
"Then you must be the eccentric Elder Chae mentioned—the one who wants to forge a kitchen knife out of Black Iron."
"An eccentric? Come on, now."
"Anyone who tries to make a kitchen knife out of Black Iron—which is worth enough to buy a decent, spacious house—is definitely an eccentric."
I had absolutely no comeback for that. Unable to argue, I simply clasped my hands together in a polite martial greeting.
"I am Yoon Gomyung of the Mutual Righteousness Academy."
"I have heard much about you. I am Yi Mok, the blacksmith."
Yi Mok returned the gesture. I immediately pulled the Black Iron from my pocket to show him and asked,
"I asked someone who knows about these things, and they said this much Black Iron is more than enough to make a kitchen knife. Can you make a spoon and chopsticks with the leftovers?"
At my question, Yi Mok's brow furrowed, though he quickly covered it with a dry cough. "Ahem... A spoon and chopsticks, you say..."
"Is it not possible?"
"It is possible, but please do not say such things to any blacksmith other than me. Anyone else would have a fit on the spot."
"Ah, right. Yes."
I was utterly speechless for the second time. To be fair, if I asked any other blacksmith for a commission like this, they'd probably call me a lunatic. Taking the Black Iron, Yi Mok tossed it lightly in the air to gauge its weight.
"The quantity is indeed substantial. What style of kitchen knife do you prefer?"
"A rectangular cleaver, please."
"There is too much Black Iron here to make just one blade. It would be better to choose a second style."
"In that case, make the second one a slicing knife, but with a pointed tip."
A rectangular cleaver was the classic block-shaped knife we all knew, while a slicing knife was a long, slender blade used for carving Peking duck.
"Understood. Now, we must find a hilt that fits your hand. Follow me."
Just as Yi Mok and I were about to head to the other side of the forge, Man Hanseok, who had been standing idly in the background, spoke up.
"Hello."
"...Hello."
What? Who is he greeting all of a sudden? I looked back over my shoulder. Standing awkwardly in front of Man Hanseok was a pale, hollow-eyed boy. My first impression of him was that he looked incredibly frail—much like Gongson Yeongji when I first met her—as if a single touch would send him toppling over. The blacksmith also snapped his head around and immediately rushed over to the boy the moment he saw him.
"I told you to rest. You never listen to your father, do you?"
"I wanted to help out a little..."
"I told you, it's fine."
Yi Mok, who had been somewhat aloof and imposing when speaking to us, treated the boy with immense warmth. Since he referred to himself as 'father,' this boy had to be his son. As I stared at the boy, Yi Mok cleared his throat and introduced him.
"Ahem. This is my son."
"I am Lee Song..."
The sickly-looking Lee Song bowed his head politely. Is the kid ill? Seeing him hesitate so fragilely tugged at my heartstrings, and since I couldn't just ignore him, I immediately called out to my two juniors.
"Hanseok, Yeongji."
"Yes?"
"...?"
"Go hang out with him for a bit. You guys look to be around the same age, and it's always better to hang out with peers."
"Uh, so suddenly?"
"I figured you two would get bored just standing around."
"...Senior, why don't you show Song how you freeze water with your Ice Limit Spear?"
Oh, look at that. It seemed Gongson Yeongji was much quicker on the uptake than the clueless Man Hanseok. As she nudged him forward, Man Hanseok let himself be dragged away with a bewildered expression. As the three of them headed toward the shade of a tree, Yi Mok spoke up, his face softening with a hint of embarrassment.
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it. My kids looked bored anyway."
It could certainly be awkward when your son suddenly pops up while you're in the middle of a business transaction. Yi Mok led Seonwoo Seol and me over to a wall where dozens of wooden rods were hanging. They were all the same length, but their thicknesses varied. This was clearly where he customized the knife handles.
"I suspect... either this one or this one will fit your hand best."
Yi Mok pulled two rods from the massive selection and handed them to me. The moment I gripped them, they fit my palm perfectly. Yep, a true professional really is on another level.
"I think this one fits better."
"Number fifty-six. Understood."
After that, he had me coat my hand in ink to grip the rod, brought out several kitchen knives to ask which center of gravity felt most comfortable, and so on. He was incredibly meticulous with his questions, and only after I answered every single one was the order finally finalized.
"I plan to use ebony or rosewood for the handle. Would that be acceptable?"
"Let's go with ebony. If we're making a knife out of Black Iron anyway, we might as well use an expensive wood for the handle, right?"
Since I was already splurging, I figured I might as well go all out. At my casual attitude, Yi Mok, who had maintained a deadpan expression the entire time, let out a dry chuckle.
"Ha, very well then."
It was my money anyway, so why not make a splash? Of course, Seonwoo Seol glared at me with a scowl that clearly said, Aren't you wasting money? but hey, it was my choice. While Yi Mok stepped away to fetch something, Seonwoo Seol whispered to me.
"Putting your ridiculous spending habits aside, that blacksmith's questions show he's incredibly skilled."
"Indeed. He's very meticulous... I caught a glimpse of the sword he was working on earlier, and it looked like it would easily rank as a masterpiece."
"Why is someone like him running a forge in a place like this? He'd do so much better in the heart of the Capital."
"It's best not to pry too deeply into other people's business, but well, I'm sure he has his reasons."
As I said that, I glanced over at the shade of the tree. The three youngsters were chatting amiably. Gongson Yeongji, who had been tense at first, was now smiling brightly, while Lee Song and Man Hanseok seemed to be locked in a heated discussion. Lee Song was happily carrying on the conversation when suddenly—
"Cough, cough... hack!"
"Are you okay? What's wrong all of a sudden?"
"Sometimes I just cough like... hack, cough!"
A light, dry cough was one thing, but this was the kind of deep, hacking cough that sounded as if he were trying to spit up his very lungs.
"Hack! Ugh..."
When Lee Song finally collapsed to his knees from the sheer force of his coughing fit, I bolted over.
"Chef Yoon?"
"I'll be right back. Go fetch the blacksmith first."
While Man Hanseok and Gongson Yeongji panicked, I quickly supported Lee Song and asked,
"Does this happen often?"
"Hack! Yes..."
I needed to stop the coughing first before checking his condition. I pressed down on his Cheondol acupoint—located right in the hollow between his collarbones—to halt the coughing fit, then placed my hand on his back.
"...He's freezing."
I almost pulled my hand back in reflex. Why is this kid's back so cold? It reminded me of the icy skin Man Hanseok used to have back when he was severely obese. Steeling myself, I placed my hand back on his spine and circulated my qi perception. And then—
"...!"
The asthma symptoms could be attributed to his frail constitution, but the real issue lay in his meridians. Seven of his twelve major meridians were completely blocked. Lee Song's current meridian state was like a pipe jammed with massive boulders, preventing any water from flowing. It looked like someone had tried to artificially clear them a few times, but even those attempts had failed to do the job properly. His qi was barely trickling through microscopic gaps. I tried nudging the blockages with a bit of my own qi, but they didn't budge in the slightest, suggesting they had been sealed shut for a very long time.
"Chef Yoon... is Song really sick...?"
Gongson Yeongji looked at me with pleading eyes, silently asking if there was anything we could do. I shook my head reassuringly.
"He is sick, but we can treat him just like we did with Hanseok. No need to worry too much."
"Huh? This has something to do with me?"
"His illness is only a hair's breadth away from what you had back when you were heavy."
An icy-cold body, completely blocked meridians, and a pale, gaunt complexion. Seeing his physical state, I finally understood why a blacksmith of Yi Mok's caliber was running such a run-down forge in a secluded area.
"I don't have any medicinal ingredients on hand right now, but I can at least make you a bit more comfortable."
"Thank you..."
With those words, I gently channeled my yang qi into Lee Song's back.
"Ah...!"
"It might feel a bit hot, but bear with it."
I started by using my yang qi to melt away the blockages in the most critical meridians. Sizzle, sizzle. As the clumps of turbid and yin qi blocking his meridians slowly dissolved, an immediate change came over Lee Song. Color began to return to his deathly pale face. After about ten minutes of continuously pouring in yang qi and melting the cold energy, Lee Song finally let out a sigh of relief, his expression relaxing.
"It's so warm..."
"How long have you been like this?"
"About... four or five years..."
"You must have suffered a lot."
"My father... must have suffered even more..."
What a dutiful son. While I was stabilizing Lee Song's condition, Seonwoo Seol returned with Yi Mok. The moment Yi Mok saw his son sitting before me with his eyes closed, he rushed over in a panic and checked on him.
"Song, are you alright?"
A stark contrast to his earlier stoic demeanor, Yi Mok was visibly frantic as he took his son's hands.
"Yes... Chef Yoon did this and that, and my body feels much better..."
Lee Song clumsily mimicked my acupressure motions, bringing a look of profound relief to Yi Mok's face.
"I only heard you were a chef. I had no idea you possessed such medical expertise, Chef Yoon."
"Well, I'm not just any ordinary eccentric."
"Ah, no... I apologize for calling you an eccentric. I didn't mean..."
"Aigoo, I can't even tease you. It was a joke, just a joke."
"If you play jokes like that on people who don't know you, of course they're going to take you seriously."
At Seonwoo Seol's scolding, I offered an embarrassed apology.
"It really was just a joke. At any rate, this isn't a conversation to have out in the open. Let's head inside."
We stepped into the living quarters, which were sparse and drafty. It wasn't like we had given them any advance notice, so we were in no position to judge, nor should we. Once we sat down, I placed a hand on Lee Song's shoulder and broached the subject.
"Is the name of Song's illness Severed Meridian Syndrome?"
"...It is."
"It doesn't seem to be Nine Yin Severed Meridians, but his most troublesome acupoints are completely blocked nonetheless."
"That is also correct."
"What exactly happened?"
"It is a long story..."
Yi Mok's explanation didn't stray far from my expectations. He had lost his wife, Lady Song, when their son was barely taking his first steps. By the time Lee Song was old enough to study the Thousand Character Classic, the boy began suffering from Severed Meridian Syndrome. The only ones capable of curing the disease outright were the imperial physicians in the palace or some legendary divine doctor who was near-impossible to track down. Fortunately, there were physicians capable of alleviating the symptoms, but it required an exorbitant amount of money. Although Yi Mok was a highly skilled blacksmith, he didn't have an endless well of wealth. After pouring his entire fortune into treating his son, he was eventually forced to close down his forge near the imperial palace. That was why he had no choice but to accept commissions that no ordinary blacksmith would ever take—such as the insane request to forge a kitchen knife out of Black Iron.
Lee Song kept his head bowed in silence throughout the explanation, and Yi Mok finished speaking with a solemn look. "...And that is how we ended up here."
Seeing Yi Mok's expression, Man Hanseok whispered to me, "Chef Yoon, what did you mean earlier when you said Song's condition is similar to mine?"
"Ah, that." While not all cases of Severed Meridian Syndrome were identical, the root cause of Lee Song's condition was very similar to why Man Hanseok used to be obese. That was precisely why I had used my yang qi to melt the blockages in his meridians.
"Since Song is male, his body isn't a pure Yin constitution, but his meridians are highly prone to accumulating cold yin energy."
"What? Yin energy accumulating in the meridians... isn't that Nine Yin Severed Meridians?"
"It would be Nine Yin Severed Meridians if nine or more of his twelve major meridians were blocked by yin energy. But Song's case hasn't progressed that far yet."
As I summarized my medical knowledge, Yi Mok asked in astonishment, "...How do you know all this, Chef Yoon?"
"As you saw just a moment ago, I happen to know a thing or two about medicine."
"Then... do you perhaps know a way to cure my son's Severed Meridian Syndrome?"
"The commonly known treatment requires using spiritual beasts or rare herbs that possess extreme yang energy."
"...?" Yi Mok stared at me as if to say, I already know that, so why bring it up? But as the saying goes, you have to listen to the very end.
"My family line possesses a secret recipe for a spiritual medicine. Among them is a mystical remedy that boosts yang qi while suppressing the strength of yin energy."
"Such a medicine actually exists? Are you the reincarnation of the Medicine Sage himself?"
Well... since I'm Old Man Yakseon's disciple, I suppose calling me the reincarnation of the Medicine Sage isn't technically wrong.
"Of course, the medicine alone won't be enough. It must be paired with proper medical treatment."
"Does that mean... you can cure my Song, Chef Yoon?" Yi Mok, who had been sitting as still as a statue, leaned forward eagerly. He was desperately clinging to even the faintest sliver of hope.
By the way, I only came here to commission a kitchen knife made of Black Iron. How did things turn out like this? Did the Jade Emperor punish me for having the audacity to make a kitchen knife out of Black Iron? No, let's not run away from reality. I nodded straight away at Yi Mok's question.
"It won't be a quick process, but yes, it is possible."