Chapter 58
Chapter 58
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 58
Chapter Title: Part 8: A Pot of Meat Porridge
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The first to move was Jeong-a, quicker than anyone else.
She approached Yeon So-hyeon and respectfully held out a small bamboo tube.
It was the bamboo tube containing his golden needles, sterilized in boiling water after the last treatment.
"You bastard...! You who ruined Luoyang...! My family...!"
Yeon So-hyeon knelt beside the man and prodded his chest.
"Shut up."
The man couldn't even groan from the pain of his broken ribs.
Yeon So-hyeon drew a golden needle from the bamboo tube handed to him by Jeong-a.
"Keep talking, and your lungs will suffer."
Before the man could react, Yeon So-hyeon began inserting the needles into his body.
"Move while the needles are in, and you'll truly become crippled."
The man's movements stopped.
* * *
Once Yeon So-hyeon's treatment was complete, Jeong-a wrapped bandages around the man's emaciated body.
Those who had cleaned up the chaos in the hall gradually gathered back one by one.
They stood guard in silence, without a word.
Yeon So-hyeon spoke to the man, who was now sitting and breathing more easily.
"I fixed your ankle while I was at it."
The man tentatively moved his ankle.
Miraculously, the ankle that hadn't moved properly began to function.
"A few days of rest without overdoing it, and you'll be able to work like before."
The man looked up at Yeon So-hyeon with trembling eyes.
"You... Who are you...?"
Yeon So-hyeon asked.
"Where did you serve?"
The man touched the tattoo on his shoulder.
"...The northern front."
Yeon So-hyeon nodded.
"Many died. And even more were wounded."
At his words, the man glared at Yeon So-hyeon with surging emotion.
"But somehow I survived and came back, only to find my family already dead from the successive poor harvests."
The man's eyes widened.
Yeon So-hyeon adjusted the needles as he spoke.
"...Many were like that."
The man's head drooped toward the floor.
Yeon So-hyeon placed a hand on his shoulder.
"But you made it back safely. You did well, soldier."
Tears burst from his eyes.
"You protected your country and your family."
The tears mixed with snot as they streamed down.
No high-ranking official had ever praised him upon his return home.
No, not even at the war's end had he heard words of commendation from any commander.
"Seeing how diligently you've lived, even twisting your ankle..."
Yeon So-hyeon continued calmly.
"...doesn't it mean you still have family left to care for?"
The retired soldier nodded slowly at his words.
"So keep living diligently from now on. Not for the Emperor or the Sword Clan, but for your family."
Yeon So-hyeon went on.
"Never make the wrong choice. You still stand beneath the bright sun."
At those words, the soldier lifted his head and looked at Yeon So-hyeon.
"You...?"
Just then, the crowd parted as the Triplet Maids approached, carrying a small pot of meat porridge.
Yeon So-hyeon placed the warm pot in the soldier's arms.
The soldier was speechless, enveloped by its warmth and aroma.
The malice completely vanished from his eyes.
"Thank you... Thank you..."
The soldier repeated those words over and over.
Endlessly.
* * *
Yeon So-hyeon watched the retired soldier's weary figure as he shuffled out the main gate.
He clutched the pot like a treasure.
The Fourth Young Master silently took his eldest brother's hand.
Yeon So-hyeon gripped it in return and spoke.
"Do you know? That soldier was conscripted and sent to the northern front."
"...Conscripted?"
Yeon So-hyeon's gaze remained fixed on the soldier's retreating back.
"At the imperial court's and the officials' request, the Sword Clan personally conscripted youths from Luoyang. The poor ones were the targets."
The Fourth Young Master's eyes followed the soldier, though he had long vanished from sight.
"They said it was easy to deceive them. They promised to care for the families of the conscripts."
The Fourth Young Master's face darkened.
He could guess what came next.
"But far from caring for the families, they were short on war funds right then."
The Fourth Young Master's grip tightened.
"The Sword Clan and the officials thought it a waste to support all those families immediately."
Those around held their breath, listening intently to Yeon So-hyeon.
They figured they could distribute spoils to the survivors after victory.
But...
"We won the war, but it was a victory of wounds alone, with no real gains."
The imperial court never mentioned that war again.
There was no triumphant parade, only haste to disband the conscript legions that consumed food and supplies.
And during that war, the Central Plains suffered famines.
Few families remained to welcome the barely surviving men.
No one thanked them.
No one spoke of the war they had fought with their lives.
The returned soldiers headed to harsh labor sites just to protect what family they had left.
Fearing unrest, the officials and Sword Clan eliminated anyone who could serve as a focal point.
"Such..."
It was another secret history, thoroughly buried in darkness.
In the stunned silence, the Fourth Young Master tightly grasped Yeon So-hyeon's hand with both of his.
"Even if it's just one person, I'm glad you could comfort him, big brother."
Yeon So-hyeon raised his other hand to stroke the Fourth Young Master's head.
"What I did was nothing. I merely said what he deserved to hear."
A bitter smile touched his lips.
"A pot of meat porridge likely helped him more."
Yeon So-hyeon's gaze turned toward the gate.
"Not my words, but the fact that his family still remains gave him strength."
His voice was calm.
"And a pot of meat porridge gave him hope to return."
His eyes met the Fourth Young Master's.
"If you aim to achieve great things ahead, remember this."
It was heavy advice for the youngest brother responsible for a group.
"A leader must never indulge in self-pity or narcissism, distorting reality."
The Fourth Young Master listened intently.
"Remember that a pot of meat porridge held more power than a hundred of my words."
"Yes, big brother."
The young scholars around nodded in unison, etching Yeon So-hyeon's words into their minds.
Then a medical maid approached Yeon So-hyeon.
"Eldest Young Master, it's time to close the charity hall."
The sunset was gradually spreading across the western sky.
Yeon So-hyeon squeezed and shook his youngest brother's hand.
"Come, let's head back now."
The Fourth Young Master beamed.
"Yes!"
* * *
As everyone prepared to leave, Yeon So-hyeon met with the old woman, the shaman of the Fairy Faith Cult.
"What?! Is that true?"
The old woman's hands trembled.
Yeon So-hyeon slowly shook his head.
"I'm not entirely sure myself. It was just a feeling..."
He stroked his chin.
"Thinking over what that soldier said..."
The root of all evil was the Sword Clan.
Luoyang was a vast cage for raising livestock.
A religion that sold mothers to deceive the fools.
"Content a poor soldier wouldn't easily spout. Likely taught by someone."
"...Indeed. It resembles 'their' methods."
The old woman groaned and nodded at his words.
"I'll send people to investigate. But for now..."
"All resources are scarce. I know. At least check his home for now."
The old woman bowed deeply.
"We apologize for our shortcomings."
Yeon So-hyeon gave a wry smile.
"It's not your fault. How vast is this Luoyang land, and how many people live here?"
Turning to leave, he added.
"Wait a little longer. Things will start improving soon."
* * *
The soldier raced through the darkening alley to a shabby hut.
Had his ankle still been twisted, fear of spilling the porridge would have taken ten times longer.
The Luoyang Sword Clan's Eldest Young Master had said a few days' rest would restore it fully.
Then he wouldn't dread halved wages anymore.
If so, he and his younger brother could stop worrying about going hungry.
Clutching the still-warm pot, he carefully opened the shack's door.
"Young-a, look at this. See what big brother brought?"
The shack held no warmth.
But he didn't mind.
In Luoyang, where even firewood cost money, warmth for the poor was a joke.
"Young-a, you asleep?"
He moved cautiously through the dark interior, lest he spill the porridge.
He wanted to show it to his brother as soon as possible.
To see a bright smile on his face.
"Young-a?"
His steps halted.
His brother always lay where the sun hit.
And there he was, in that spot.
"Young-a?"
Having been through war, he knew at a glance.
His motionless brother was no longer of this world.
To support the family while big brother was away, he'd toiled his body to ruin.
But in the end, all that remained for him were useless legs and a family starved to death.
The pot slipped from his hand to the floor.
Meat porridge splattered everywhere.
An incomprehensible wail escaped his lips.
He embraced his brother's coldly stiffened body.
Several fresh cuts marred his brother's wrists, the blood already congealed thickly.
Suicide.
The only thing a useless brother could do for his wage-losing brother.
In his other arm, he clutched a crudely carved statue.
"Brother! It's Lady Fairy!"
His brother had said with a radiant smile.
"She'll protect us from now on!"
With trembling hands, he picked up the Lady Fairy statue from his brother's embrace.
An unknowable scream and wail erupted from his mouth.
The Lady Fairy statue shattered.
The hurled pot crumpled and rolled.
The spilled meat porridge mixed with his brother's dried blood on the floor.
'They' were right.
There was no salvation in this world.
True criminals went unpunished.
The worst villains suffered no pain.
'Never make the wrong choice. You still stand beneath the bright sun.'
The Sword Clan's Eldest Young Master's words briefly echoed in his mind, then faded.
With his brother's death, he reached the 'truth' they had spoken of.
* * *
The sun had long set, and his brother rotted slowly in the cold night air.
He dug into the ground with his bare hands.
Nails shattered and fingers tore on the frozen earth, but he felt no pain.
He unearthed a small box.
Inside were eerie, ominous talismans inscribed with strange characters and a blood-red candle.
Reciting the incantation they had taught him, a dark blue flame rose from the candle.
'Nirvana is a lie.'
The talismans circled his body.
'Paradise does not exist.'
A gale whipped up, the candle flaring fiercely.
'Bodhisattvas are dead.'
The dark blue flames spread to his body, bringing excruciating pain.
'Immortals have departed.'
But his lips did not stop.
An eerie, horrifying incantation flowed out unbidden.
He wanted to scream, but only unknown words emerged.
As his body burned, their final words surfaced in his mind.
'Remember, brother. The time of the end approaches.'
The flames consumed his body entirely, sparing the surroundings.
They even devoured the last tear from his eyes.
'Remember, brother. The time of salvation approaches.'
His body became black ash.
And scattered somewhere.
'The truth is one!'
Only the pit and small box remained where he had been.
'The Demonic Cult alone will purify this filthy world to its primal state!'
Silence fell.
Frost gradually settled on the boy's corpse.
Beside the corpse rolled the head of the Lady Fairy statue.
For some reason, it looked
as if it were crying.