Bitter Syrup and Hidden Scars
"It's been ages since we've seen herbs dug up so perfectly. Wow, you said this is the person our young miss hired? What an eye for talent."
"Did our pharmacy used to have herbs of this quality back in the day?"
"Yes, decades ago, there was a major sect called Yakseonmun around here. Think of them like the Tang Clan of the west. They raised herb gatherers, trained physicians, and cultivated vast fields, so good ingredients weren't hard to come by..."
Where there's an expert in a field nearby, everyone around benefits. But those glory days were long gone, and Pung So-gang paused with a wry bitterness.
"Still, it's a stroke of luck that our young miss brought in such an impressive herb merchant!"
"But what do we do about the taste of this Baekyakcheong we've made?"
"Who takes medicine for the taste? Right, Pharmacy Master?"
"Exactly, exactly!" Danmok Hyeon-u clapped in enthusiastic agreement.
Ryeon watched the two men quietly, then shook her head inwardly.
One dotes on me too much, and the other can't bear to give harsh feedback in his position. No choice—I'll ask Hwaryun for his honest take.
The boy's coolly analytical side would give a more objective opinion than her uncle's "Everything my niece makes is perfect!"
"Grandfather said to send some of this batch to Huashan too, so I'm packing Qinglian Water to go with it."
They'd ship it via the family’s Yuseong Escort Agency. Once a mere shadow of its former self, the agency had gained some traction just from handling a fraction of the Qinglian Water distribution.
I need to grow the escort agency more.
Commerce ultimately hinged on distribution, didn't it? Of course, it wouldn't be easy. They'd need a steady supply of trained escorts, and consistent jobs to keep them busy. Among those, the most reliable gigs—like transporting tribute—required imperial connections few could claim. Hauling grain was out of reach for a faded outfit like Yuseong.
Should I expand the agency to match our current Qinglian Water output?
That would mean talking to Mansong Merchant Group first. They wouldn't turn down the sales from Qinglian Water, but it wasn't something she could settle immediately, so Ryeon shelved the thought.
As she finished preparing the Qinglian Water and Baekyakcheong for the escort agency, Ryeon glanced up and tilted her head.
Danmok Hyeon-u's expression had darkened slightly ever since they'd started on the Baekyakcheong. His eyes still held that troubled depth now.
"Uncle, something bothering you?"
Danmok Hyeon-u startled and jumped back.
Ryeon peered around him, then gently fanned the air with the fan he always carried.
Fresh, purifying air began to envelop them.
"Bothering me? Ever since you woke up, Ryeon, I've had zero worries."
He puffed out his chest boastfully. His playful tone left no room for argument.
As Ryeon pursed her lips, Danmok Hyeon-u changed the subject.
"Oh! How about enclosing a little note from you with the Baekyakcheong? The recipients would love it."
"Sure, great idea!"
Ryeon quickly scribbled on the paper he'd prepared. She planned to send a jar to Gyeon Wiun at Mansong too.
— When the weather turns cold, dissolve in warm water.
It's bitter, but good for the body.
She'd burned the first draft—up to the bit about discussing escort matters with her over Qinglian Water transport—and rewrote it.
Better to talk escort business with Aunt Wiun directly.
If Gyeon Wiun's aunt, the Mansong leader, handled it, things would get done reliably, and Ryeon asking her personally wouldn't look odd. But routing it through Gyeon Wiun would bolster her influence with Qinglian Water revenue, distancing her from old escort ties and funneling more business to Danmok's agency long-term.
With that settled, Ryeon wrote next to Hoseon Medical Pavilion's chief physician. She'd send them a jar too.
— Made from the platycodon you gifted me then. Sending a jar in gratitude.
Truth be told, she'd used up that platycodon long ago, and this batch came from Yak Yeo-cheong's harvest—but words were words.
She penned one for Huashan Sect in Shaanxi too. Her step-uncle Cheongyun was still in secluded training, so his master, the sect leader, would receive it.
— Your humble servant Danmok Ryeon sends this modest Baekyakcheong, made by my own hands, in full recovery thanks to Daoist Cheongyun's concern.
She'd written "for your help" first, then scrapped it—lest the letter leak and expose Cheongyun's lost inner power.
After a brief hesitation, she decided on a separate note to Gyeon Wihak in Beijing. He deserved credit for Qinglian Water's boom.
— Uncle Wihak, keep pushing through the imperial exams. Baekyakcheong, made by me.
As Ryeon finished, Danmok Hyeon-u, peering over her shoulder, muttered just audibly.
It was a grumble about why she called others "uncle" when he was right there.
Ryeon beamed, and he coughed awkwardly, averting his eyes in mild embarrassment.
* * *
A tiny pond sat before Danmok Hyeon-u's residence. It held a single koi, gifted to him as a child. Neglected during his long seclusion and the family's decline, the fish hadn't died but had lost its vibrant hue, turning murky.
Ryeon squatted by the edge, fanning gently toward the water.
Her visits had purified it over time; the water cleared, and life returned to the koi's eyes. Lately, it flicked its tail to splash when she approached.
"Where's Uncle?"
"He said he'd stop by the pharmacy briefly."
Hwaryun, back from asking the residence servant, tilted his head.
Ryeon stood, mirroring the gesture. Today was flute lesson day, but Danmok Hyeon-u hadn't returned.
"Uncle went to the pharmacy? Why? It's not Qinglian Water or Baekyakcheong day."
Hwaryun pondered briefly before answering.
"Seems he got hurt."
"What?!"
Ryeon leaped up in alarm, and Hwaryun steadied her.
"Want to bathe with the koi or something?"
"Uncle got hurt? Where?"
"Doesn't seem serious."
"Munyoung said that?"
Munyoung, Danmok Hyeon-u's servant, was quiet and prudent—never one for exaggeration.
Hwaryun pulled Ryeon a few steps from the pond.
"Not exactly. He just said your uncle went to the pharmacy, but my gut says so."
"Then let's check the pharmacy."
"He said to wait here; he'll be back soon..."
If Munyoung had stayed behind to relay the message instead of attending Danmok Hyeon-u, it probably wasn't grave. But what could have injured him in the heart of the estate?
"We'll run into him on the way."
"Ugh, shoulda kept my mouth shut."
Hwaryun grumbled after glancing at Ryeon's face.
She shot him a glare mid-stride.
"Kept it shut? What're you talking about."
"Just look at your face. Pale as a ghost."
Ryeon touched her cheek, then shook her head.
The pharmacy buzzed with activity. People spotted Ryeon and bowed hastily, but she waved them off, searching for her uncle.
"Uncle!"
"Huh? Ryeon? What brings you here?"
Danmok Hyeon-u, bandage in hand, shot to his feet.
"Aigoo."
The physician groaned as his work was interrupted, but Danmok Hyeon-u flung the bandage aside, approaching Ryeon—then hastily hid his wounded hand behind his back.
"Uncle! You're hurt!"
"No, no. Who said that?"
"How'd it happen?"
Seeing Ryeon wouldn't buy excuses, Danmok Hyeon-u shrugged sheepishly.
"Slipped during morning training. Sword slid in my grip."
Ryeon held out her hand.
He hesitated, then offered his reluctantly.
She grasped it with both of hers. Calluses thick, scratches scarred—a large hand, half-bandaged, but the gash peeked deeper than expected.
This wasn't from sparring recklessly; solo training shouldn't let a blade slip that far.
Danmok Hyeon-u twisted his hand, embarrassed at showing weakness before his niece.
"No need to worry. Your uncle's fine, really."
Ryeon exhaled deeply and released him.
As the physician rushed to finish, Danmok Hyeon-u met her eyes, forcing a smile.
She knew. His heart demon still clutched his heart.