Resemblances and the Bitter Brew
Danmok Seong had bolted out at dawn, and after searching high and low without finding her anywhere, Danmok Hyeon-yo finally heard that her daughter was here. She arrived to pick her up, her face a whirlwind of complex emotions.
“You……”
Danmok Hyeon-yo stared down at Ryeon for a long moment before murmuring.
“I thought you only took after your aunt, but…… you resemble your father too.”
Danmok Hyeon-yo, who always referred to Wijicheong as “my sister-in-law,” had let the words slip out unbidden. Ryeon gazed down at her sleeping cousin and said,
“Seong takes after you, Aunt.”
“No, Seong……”
Danmok Hyeon-yo trailed off, her expression as if she wasn’t even sure what she wanted to say. All her life, raising this child, she’d convinced herself that Seong must take after her uncle—her brother Danmok Hyeon-seong. Even if she herself couldn’t achieve it, Seong would be a prodigy just like him, destined to revive the clan……
“Seong…… Right. She takes after me. Who else would she take after? She’s my one and only daughter……”
Danmok Hyeon-yo’s voice faded, and she let out a deep sigh.
“Thank you for putting Seong to sleep. I’ll repay this debt someday.”
With that, Danmok Hyeon-yo scooped up Danmok Seong herself and left Wolyeongjae. In her dreams, Seong clung to her mother with a soft whimper, delighting Danmok Hyeon-yo.
Kyunghang Yunryeon.
A gathering of the martial clans along the Kyunghang Grand Canal, starting from the northern Haibei Paeng family and Jinju Eon family, including the Hwangbo clan, Shandong Ak family, Namgung family, and finally the Danmok family. It began as a forum for pursuing the martial way together but had grown to include nearby dojos.
Yet amid this budding sense of camaraderie, one issue grew ever more sensitive: the education of their children.
For the past decade or so, the Danmok family had dominated that front almost unchallenged—until Danmok Hyeon-seong, the pillar of that dominance, passed away, and the gatherings withered.
Who would boast of their own sons in front of a man who’d lost his?
Then Ryeon awoke, and with the Namgung family—up next as hosts—pushing strongly, the group decided to reconvene next spring.
It was still far off, but the children buzzed with excitement while the adults threw themselves into preparations. Amid it all, one young man—not quite a full adult, yet no longer a child—fretted alone.
What if we go and the kids end up disappointed in my nieces and nephews……
No matter how much they chased righteousness and chivalry, a martial clan was a gathering of blood kin pursuing worldly gains—not a sect studying virtue and justice.
So when they assembled in such numbers, envy and jealousy simmered, sometimes erupting into outright disdain.
Danmok Hyeon-u remembered how people who’d barely dared glance at his brother during his peak had changed just before his death.
“Uncle?”
Deep in his worries, Danmok Hyeon-u looked up to find sparkling, star-like eyes right in front of him. He swallowed a sigh and smiled.
“Ryeon, wait…… you’re already all washed up?”
“Huh? Yeah.”
Riding the skyrocketing popularity of Qinglian Water, Ryeon had churned it out like a machine for a while. Now that she’d gotten the knack and supply met demand, she could finally breathe.
Lately, she was experimenting with Baekyakcheong.
They’d named it “Baekyakcheong”—Ryeon’s special platycodon syrup—and its effects were proven. The problem was its deadly bitterness.
No matter how effective, if it tasted this foul, who’d buy it? Worried, Ryeon tinkered with it whenever she had a moment.
Today was for prepping the platycodon roots together.
But Ryeon’s basin was already brimming with pristine white roots. Meanwhile, Danmok Hyeon-u’s and sub-pharmacy master Pung So-gang’s were still caked in dirt.
Hearing Danmok Hyeon-u’s astonished question, Pung So-gang glanced over—and his eyes went wide at the sight.
“H-How’d you finish already?!”
Washing the soil from the long, tangled roots and trimming the skin was tedious, grueling work. Dirt seemed endless, and the roots’ shape didn’t pity the poor handler.
Yet Ryeon’s were snow-white, as if pre-peeled—without a single nick. The water held only fine silt; the roots gleamed smooth.
“Just gently wash them in water……”
“Could you show us how?”
Pung So-gang eyed Ryeon gratefully as Danmok Hyeon-u spoke for him. Ryeon seemed a bit flustered by the sudden attention but soon fetched a few of her uncle’s roots.
She poured fresh water and swirled gently……
“Wha…… wh-what? Huh?”
“Like this, and it works.”
“Huh?”
Dirt sloughed off like mist, revealing pure white roots. Ryeon demonstrated a few more, but neither man grasped the trick.
I wasn’t even trying to use Purification…… it just happens.
Is this what they mean by ‘no normal hits’?
A little flustered herself, Ryeon looked at them.
“It’s not working for you. I’ll wash them all—just chop and prep the rest.”
Pung So-gang shrank back, unwilling to let the young miss handle the wet work, but Ryeon’s insistent shooing left him helpless.
Danmok Hyeon-u surrendered first.
“O-Okay, fine! Chopping’s my specialty anyway, right, Sub-Master Pung?”
“Ah…… y-yes.”
Pung So-gang stared at Ryeon’s hands like she was possessed, then let Danmok Hyeon-u drag him to grab a knife and start chopping.
But Ryeon washed faster than they chopped……
So demoralizing……
Ryeon finished her basin—tall as herself—in a blink, then hovered, fanning them cool.
Even the breeze felt sweet. As Pung So-gang wallowed deeper in self-doubt, Ryeon said,
“Next time, I’ll handle washing and prepping the herbs.”
“N-No, how could we make the young miss do such drudgery……”
That was newbies’ or juniors’ work back at the herb room.
Ryeon shook her head firmly.
“No such thing as drudgery in clan business. I should lead by example.”
She couldn’t admit it was just too frustrating watching them.
“Aigoo, young miss……”
“One quick rinse from me beats three or four people.”
“Well……”
He couldn’t deny it if his life depended on it. Pung So-gang stared blankly at the mountain of roots.
How could roots buried in dirt come out this clean?
Really, how does she wash them so fast and spotless?
Do direct descendants of martial clans have special talent even for herb washing? Then what’s the point of the pharmacy?
She could do it all herself. She made the Qinglian Water alone, after all.
Pung So-gang glanced at Danmok Hyeon-u. His washing wasn’t much better—in fact, Pung was slightly more skilled……
“Sub-Master Pung, I know exactly what you’re thinking just from that look.”
Pung So-gang flinched, nearly slicing his finger. Danmok Hyeon-u grumbled threateningly.
“But chopping? That’s where I shine.”
“Of course.”
He’d wielded swords his whole life—this knife work was child’s play. Yet Danmok Hyeon-u, who’d boasted first, drooped his brows instead.
Ryeon stood with hands on hips, beaming proudly at the sight.
With Baekyakcheong production complete—sealed tight, bound with string, and lined up neatly—her chest swelled.
“This batch…… should taste okay, right?”
“Uh, well……”
Even Danmok Hyeon-u, endlessly positive about his niece’s work, hesitated.
Platycodon syrup, sweetened with honey and sugar, shouldn’t be dessert-delicious but nor poisonously vile—yet the clan’s version had an oddly elusive flavor.
A strangely refreshing spiciness mingled with bitterness into something indescribable.
Old folks gulped down anything “good for you” like poison, but even Ryeon’s grandfather Danmok Cheon-gi had sipped a diluted taste, recoiled in surprise, and coughed.
Sigh. Even Hwaryun called it poison……
“Isn’t this the unique charm of our pharmacy’s Baekyakcheong?”
“If ‘bad taste’ is the charm, it won’t sell.”
“We’re selling it?”
Danmok Hyeon-u blinked in surprise. Ryeon nodded.
“We can’t rely on Qinglian Water alone. And we need to use the herbs Yak Yeo-cheong gathered.”
“Ah! That Yak Yeo-cheong, the herb gatherer?”
At the mention of Yeo-cheong, Pung So-gang’s eyes lit up eagerly.