The Price of Treatment
"First, would you mind shutting the door?"
Namgoong Seol's eyes narrowed into sharp slivers.
I casually added a little push.
"There is hardly any need for the servants to overhear matters concerning the Namgoong Clan's supreme arts, is there?"
A heavy silence lingered for a beat before the door clicked shut.
I patted the cushion beside me.
"Leave your sword over there and take a seat. At this rate, you'll end up slicing the tea cakes."
"Young Master Baekri."
Her voice was frigid.
I quietly placed the sweet confection I had just picked up back onto the plate.
Hot-tempered to the bone, whether in my past life or my present one. My wives never change.
"Understood. I take it you tested the flaw I pointed out earlier today. How were the results?"
"……."
"If I had been mistaken, you wouldn't have come looking for me at such an ungodly hour."
Namgoong Seol's knuckles whitened around her hilt.
"Even when I regulated my breathing and executed the form slowly, the result was identical. In fact, the moment I focused on the flow of internal energy……"
"It felt as though an icy needle drove straight beneath your right ribs. And even after sheathing your blade, the sensation lingered for quite some time."
Her lips pressed into a tight, pale line.
Bullseye.
"Have you ever spoken of this to anyone else?"
"No."
"And why is that?"
"If I cannot overcome a minor slump like this on my own, how could I ever hope to inherit the Namgoong sword?"
Good grief.
Her father was the World's Greatest Martial Artist, yet his daughter couldn't even bring herself to utter a single whimper of pain. It seemed life within this illustrious clan wasn't all soft cushions and roses after all.
"So you swung your blade all the harder, precisely because it hurt?"
She offered no reply, but that silence was answer enough.
Well, of course she did.
Diligently digging her own grave with her bare hands.
I straightened my posture and sat properly across from her.
"Give me your left hand."
"……What are you intending to do?"
"I intend to read your pulse. Surely you didn't expect me to prescribe a remedy merely by staring at you?"
Namgoong Seol scrutinized my face for a hesitant breath before offering her slender wrist. Her sword remained firmly clutched in her right hand.
"Should you attempt anything untoward, I will sever your fingers first."
"My, taking my own wife's wrist proves an arduous ordeal."
A cool pulse tapped against my fingertips.
Just as I thought.
While at rest, her internal energy was exquisitely pure and tranquil. Left like this, even if the Namgoong Clan's finest physicians examined her ten times over, they would dismiss it as nothing more than accumulated fatigue.
I gently rested two fingers against her skin.
"Channel your internal energy up to the exact threshold just before that critical juncture. Do not swing your blade."
A flicker of doubt crossed Namgoong Seol's gaze. Soon after, the rhythm beneath my fingertips accelerated. Amidst the serene, unblemished current, an icy chill as fine as a needle reared its head.
Caught you.
Under normal circumstances, the insidious cold poison slumbered quietly, perfectly blended into her internal energy. Only when her qi was forced through that twisted meridian pathway did it bare its fangs. A venomous art designed to make the victim plunge the blade into their own flesh, all while believing they were simply mastering the sword.
I dearly wanted to see the bastard's face who concocted this scheme.
"Halt right there."
Her shoulders flinched.
"Do not force it through. Exhale slowly and disperse the gathered energy bit by bit."
"If I do that, the flow cannot connect to the subsequent form."
"We are not attempting to complete the form right now."
I kept my grip steady on her wrist.
"Let us first see what happens to your body."
Tension locked into Namgoong Seol's jaw. Severing a deeply ingrained martial flow midway through was anathema to any proud swordmaster. Yet, she followed my instruction and slowly drew a long breath out.
"Pheeew……"
The taut tendons in her wrist loosened. As a stray wisp of qi attempted to snap back along its path, I applied firmer pressure with my fingertips.
"Do not seize it again. Let it wander."
A heartbeat passed.
Namgoong Seol's eyes flew wide.
"……The pain."
Her gaze dropped to her side. Then she looked up at my face. Down to her ribs again. Back to my face.
Naturally. It must feel like a miracle.
The agony that refused to fade no matter how relentlessly she trained had dissipated the moment she released the strain. I casually withdrew my fingers, noticing the faint sheen of sweat pooling inside my palm.
I could never overpower that vast ocean of internal energy myself. Had she stubbornly insisted on forcing her qi through, I possessed no strength to stop her.
From now on, I really should only accept docile, obedient patients.
Namgoong Seol finally guided her blade back into its scabbard with a dull click.
"Which medical treatise was it?"
Her voice had dropped an octave lower than it had been during the day.
"I will dispatch men to the Baekri Clan immediately. Whatever the price, I will pay it in full. Just tell me the name of the book."
Good grief. Rich people always made mountains out of molehills.
"It was merely a tattered tome I happened to read in my youth. The cover was already torn away. I simply applied the principles I remembered to your condition."
"You deciphered the secret sword formulas of the Namgoong Clan through a single battered medical book?"
Disbelief plain in her eyes. Understandable. I wouldn't have believed it either.
"Rather than scouring the world for a lost book, would it not be far swifter to attend to your body right here?"
Her circumstances were far too dire for her to rely solely on cool-headed skepticism. And in any trade, the desperate party was always the one at a disadvantage.
I poured hot tea and slid the cup across the table toward her.
"And do not misunderstand. What I just did was not a cure."
Her eyes snapped straight back to mine.
"I merely prevented you from aggravating the inflamed area for the moment. The instant you circulate your qi in that same manner, the agony will return. Keep repeating it, and one day your meridians will rupture beyond repair."
"……Are you claiming that the Blue Sky Sword I learned is flawed?"
"The path along which you direct your energy at that specific turning point is what is flawed."
Dipping the tip of a wooden chopstick into the tea, I drew a damp line across the polished tabletop. One straight, unbroken path. And midway down, a short branch veering sharply to the side.
"Even if a ditch deviates only a fraction from its course, the water ends up flooding an unintended field. The true issue is what lies buried beneath that field."
"What…… lies buried there?"
I set the chopstick down.
"Poison."
The air in the room froze solid.
Namgoong Seol sat utterly paralyzed, shock carving into her features.
"Poison……?"
"It slumbers hidden within your internal energy. Every time your qi follows that warped trajectory, it carves away at your meridians little by little."
"That is impossible. Everything I eat and drink is prepared within the clan……"
Her words hitched. Her gaze dropped toward the teacup resting on the table.
I reached out, lifted the cup, and took a leisurely sip.
"I am not referring to the tea served just now."
As I placed the cup back down, her brow twitched faintly. She seemed mortified that her suspicion had been read so transparently.
"Who could have committed such an atrocity?"
"That, I do not yet know."
It shared the exact same root as the Seven Steps Death Poison. I swallowed those words back down. Blurt out that name now, and she would demand to know what kind of terrifying scriptures were casually rolling around the archives of Hebei.
"We must also examine from whom and how you learned those sword formulas in the first place. The one who instructed you might have cultivated it incorrectly, or the manual itself might have been tampered with before reaching your hands."
Instead of answering, Namgoong Seol stared fixedly at the two damp lines branching across the table. Her expression was entirely different from the edge she had directed at me moments ago. Even when she had burst through the door clutching her sword, she hadn't looked this utterly lost.
I brushed the wet marks away with my wide sleeve.
"I am not telling you to apprehend the culprit tonight. First, we must mend your body."
After a prolonged silence, she parted her lips.
"Can it be cured?"
She did not question the insult to her family's martial arts, nor did she interrogate my mysterious background.
"I must observe your energy flow several more times. We must also sever whatever avenue is introducing the poison. But discovering it now is a blessing."
After a brief hesitation, I added softly,
"You have not reached the point where you must lay down your sword."
Namgoong Seol's rigid shoulders dropped an imperceptible fraction. The long breath she released was, for the very first time, devoid of any sharp edge.
"What is your price?"
I glanced down at the sweet treat I had just picked up again.
Finally speaking my language.
Dealing with someone who insisted on paying a clear debt was infinitely preferable to relying on fickle goodwill. My relationship with the Young Mistress of the Demonic Cult had started out the exact same way.
"It is nothing difficult. While under my care, you are not to conceal your pain, nor are you to unilaterally increase your training regimen."
"Those are merely necessities for treatment, not a price."
Hmm. Well, if she insisted on being so thorough.
"Guarantee my quarters and my daily meals just as they are. Do not cast me out into the cold claiming I've outlived my usefulness once your body is restored."
Namgoong Seol blinked.
"Is that…… all?"
"And these tea cakes."
"……."
"I would appreciate it if they were served just like this every day."
Her eyes drifted toward the plate. I promptly popped the remaining pastry into my mouth.
"Do you truly believe this is a situation for jesting?"
"I am deadly serious. In this world, what could possibly be more important than eating well and living in peace?"
Namgoong Seol opened her mouth as if to rebuke me, then closed it. Her gaze shifted between the empty dish and my face before she let out a quiet sigh.
"……I give you my word."
"Excellent."
I brushed the crumbs from my hands. With this, I had secured both the justification to protect my rice bowl and the full cooperation of my patient.
"Now then, are there any particular medicines you have been taking lately? An elixir or tonic to aid your cultivation, perhaps?"
"There is a medicinal decoction prescribed to regulate my meridians."
My hand froze.
"Since when?"
"For roughly half a year now. I drink it every night before retiring to bed."
"Tonight as well?"
"Not yet. It should be prepared and waiting in my pavilion."
Half a year. I recalled the depth of the insidious cold poison I had sensed beneath her skin. The timeline aligned far too neatly.
"Could you bring that medicine here?"
This time, Namgoong Seol did not question my motives. Gathering her sword, she rose to her feet and paused briefly by the threshold.
"Regarding tonight's matter……"
"Not a single word will cross my lips unless you speak of it first."
The rigid lines of her profile softened. The door pulled shut without a sound.
Only then did I allow myself to lean back onto the daybed. A heavy sigh, carefully swallowed in front of Namgoong Seol, finally escaped my lips.
Whoever orchestrated this laid the groundwork a very long time ago.
Merely purging the poison wouldn't resolve the danger. If the mastermind noticed her sudden recovery and shifted methods, next time I might fail to catch it. For the time being, we had to conceal the very fact that she was healing.
Protecting my humble bowl of rice was proving terribly exhausting.
A short while later, Namgoong Seol slipped back into the chamber, setting a small ceramic medicine pot onto the table. When I lifted the lid, a sharp, bitter herbal aroma drifted out.
Pouring a small measure into a cup, I observed the hue and dabbed a single drop onto my fingertip. Neither the scent nor the coloration appeared suspicious. Even when I gathered a threadlike trace of internal energy at the tip of my finger, there was no noticeable reaction.
However, the moment I twisted that internal energy ever so slightly—matching the exact warped flow I had read within Namgoong Seol's body—
Zzzzt!
An icy thorn pierced straight beneath my fingernail.
I scattered my qi instantly. Dropping my hand beneath the edge of the table, I watched my fingertip drain of all color, turning a stark, bloodless white.
You insidious bastard.
It remained entirely inert to ordinary internal energy. Only when colliding with the specific warped circulation method Namgoong Seol had practiced did the hidden toxicity awaken. No wonder every physician who inspected the decoction had declared it clean.
"Did you discover something?"
I stared down at the still-warm medicine pot. A tonic delivered at the exact same hour every single day.
Unlike my past life, which ended in a single ambush, the assassin in this household was knocking on the door day after day.
"My lady."
I slowly curled the corners of my lips into a faint smile.
"Do not drink this medicine again. However, when they bring it tomorrow, have them bring it inside just as you always do."