Blood and Snow
When training ended, Ak Ji-ho went straight to his sister lying in her sickbed.
"You're here? Finish reading the one from last time."
Ak Seo-a always asked him, smiling through the strain, to read from the books filled with the heroic deeds of righteous martial artists, and Ak Ji-ho always gladly obliged.
One hand tightly clasping his sister's, the other turning the pages, he read the same passages again and again deep into the night.
...
Only when her eyelids finally drifted shut, unable to fight the drowsiness any longer, did Ak Ji-ho close the book and rise from his seat.
...If I could take even half the pain you suffer in your place, how wonderful that would be.
Carefully drawing the blanket up so as not to wake her, Ak Ji-ho let out a thin sigh.
They had been born from the same mother's womb—so why must his sister endure days so much harsher than his own?
At times he felt it was unfair. At times he was angry. And at times despair washed over him at his own powerlessness to do anything for her.
The one small mercy was that something had finally caught Ak Seo-a's interest—something that never used to stir her no matter what he tried.
Even if the tales of chivalrous heroes were pure fantasy with endings anyone could predict, his sister's eyes still sparkled with joy.
Perhaps she was trying to see herself reflected in those heroes.
In truth, the reason did not matter.
As long as he could keep seeing those sparkling eyes, he would gladly recite the same story a hundred times, a thousand times over.
If Father cannot do it, I will scour the entire Central Plains to find a way to cure your illness. So please... just hold on until then...
It was a morning when the whole world seemed to hold its breath, thick snow falling without end.
Ak Ji-ho's guilt spread across the snow like a red stain.
"Young Miss...!"
Servants came running with ashen faces, flinging aside whatever they had been carrying.
Even amid the commotion he stood frozen in place, unable to move a single step.
He could only stare at his sister, who had collapsed weakly to the ground after coughing up a handful of blood.
Only after Ak Seo-a was carried away on a servant's back did Ak Ji-ho's strength leave him; he sank heavily onto the snow.
...
Could all that blood truly have come from his sister's small mouth?
Clutching his bloodshot eyes in a daze, he felt for the first time in his life a pain as if his entire body were being torn to shreds, and a cold that sank into his bones.
It was winter.
It must be so cold because it was winter.
The tears that spilled onto the snow mixed with his sister's blood and spread in a scalding stain.
In the end Ak Ji-ho could hold on no longer and collapsed onto the snow.
After Ak Seo-a collapsed, the Shandong Ak Clan manor lay every day under a heavy silence.
The physicians shook their heads, saying there was nothing more they could do, while the servants wept with even their sobs held back.
Just as death was drawing ever closer to the child, a stroke of fortune as if bestowed by an immortal from the highest heavens settled upon the Shandong Ak Clan.
A Divine Physician who had wandered the entire Central Plains dedicating himself to the weak and the poor sought them out of his own accord, for reasons no one knew.
"Let me take a look."
The Divine Physician felt Ak Seo-a's pulse several times, then clicked his tongue and nodded as if he already had a fair idea.
"When a child of a martial family falls ill, people usually suspect blocked meridians—either the Twelve Primary Meridians or the Eight Extraordinary Vessels. Most physicians can only treat those two cases, at that."
He unpacked his things, took out a needle case, and began inserting needles at once without even seeking permission from Ak Gun-bul, head of the Shandong Ak Clan.
"Yet this child's primary meridians and extraordinary vessels are perfectly fine. The problem lies among the fine vessels that spread through the whole body like a net—several of them are tangled. The flow of a great river is easy to see, but the thin tributaries of a stream are hard to notice. I can understand why ordinary physicians failed to cure her."
When a Divine Physician declared he would practice his art, who in the world would dare stop him?
Moreover, restoring tangled fine vessels throughout the body to their proper places was a level of mastery beyond even the imagination of Ak Gun-bul, who knew nothing of medicine.
Far from growing angry, he set aside even a clan head's dignity and made a respectful plea.
"Whatever method you use, whatever wealth it costs, it does not matter. Please, examine my daughter."
At Ak Gun-bul's entreaty the Divine Physician seemed to ponder for a moment, then slowly nodded.
"Having laid hands on her, I must take responsibility. But I cannot ignore those waiting for me nearby, so I will ask one favor of the clan head."
Ak Gun-bul, already guessing the request without needing to hear it through, nodded at once.
"...I will summon every physician of the clan and the surrounding area to examine the sick."
Hearing the answer he wanted, the Divine Physician finally smiled with satisfaction.
"If you will do that, I could ask for nothing more. Still, there is one thing I wish to ask."
"What is it?"
"Have you ever taught this child martial arts?"
At the unexpected question Ak Gun-bul's face showed a flicker of bewilderment.
"How could I? A child who finds even running a struggle..."
"Ah... then as I thought..."
"...What do you mean?"
Before Ak Gun-bul, who asked the reason, the Divine Physician slightly furrowed his brow and continued.
"This child seems to have tried following the breathing of an internal energy method on her own."
"At first I could hardly believe it. How would a child who never left her sickbed know to follow the breathing? Yet soon everything the Divine Physician said proved true."
Even after finishing his long recollection, Ma Tae-sang seemed to have more to say; he paused to catch his breath before continuing.
"Seo-a had begged him desperately to teach her martial arts. Ji-ho of course refused... but when she pleaded that she wanted to become even a little like a chivalrous hero before she died, he could not help himself. No matter how mature he pretended to be, he was still only a child."
The past days of the twin siblings rose so vividly before her eyes that Cheong-wol could not bring herself to speak.
If her own grandfather stood before her and made some earnest request before closing his eyes, she too would never have been able to turn away.
"In the end he squeezed his eyes shut and taught her only a portion of the internal energy method's formulas. For spear techniques he simply demonstrated the opening forms. Yet even with mere fragments she attempted the breathing—Seo-a's martial talent was no ordinary thing. Though it returned to her as poison, of course."
"...And that made her condition worse."
"Exactly. Had the Divine Physician arrived even a day later, Seo-a would never have seen the next year."
Watching Ma Tae-sang sigh with a calm face, Cheong-wol too lifted her gaze and glanced up at the sky.
The clouds dyed by the setting sun were preparing to welcome the moon between day and night.
"I understand that the Young Master cherished his sister. But the fact remains that he now persecutes Seo-a so severely that I can hardly believe your words. If it were simple guilt... the pieces do not fit."
Ma Tae-sang nodded as if he understood Cheong-wol's feelings.
"During the year or so while Seo-a recovered her health, Ji-ho never once went to see her. He continued to miss his little sister, yet in the end he could not look upon her."
"...Why?"
"Because after that day Ji-ho erased pity from his heart. Pity had given birth to compassion, and that compassion had nearly killed his sister—so it was only natural, he said."
"..."
"The problem, as you know, was that Seo-a was completely immersed in tales of chivalrous heroes. As I said earlier, her martial talent was quite remarkable. Once a child like that learned martial arts, what do you suppose she did?"
Cheong-wol could not help picturing Ak Seo-a's bright smiling face, and a small laugh escaped her.
"She would not have stayed still."
"Precisely. At first she beat up the big children near the house, then the local ruffians, then the wandering swordsmen who caused trouble. And then..."
Even now the memory seemed to rankle him; Ma Tae-sang clenched his teeth.
"There was a day she ran into the ones called the Three Hounds of Jiangxi. They were men who had raped women and fled from Jiangxi, and true to their nature they had the gall to harass a married woman on Shandong Ak Clan land. Seo-a happened to be passing by at that very moment."
"Don't tell me..."
"No—fortunately nothing of the sort occurred. Before Seo-a could even step forward, the martial artists guarding her from the shadows dealt with them. But... once that news reached Ji-ho's ears, what do you think happened?"
Recalling the murderous glare Ak Ji-ho had fixed on his sister, Cheong-wol lightly bit her lower lip.
"Did he hurl abuse at her?"
"If only it had been that..."
Ma Tae-sang fell silent for a moment and lowered his head.
It seemed the day Ji-ho first laid hands on Seo-a— a day he could never forget no matter how hard he tried—had risen before him.
Until then luck had carried them safely through, but a day would come when the clan's reach could not protect her.
If, amid the growing chaos of the Central Plains, she continued to play at being a chivalrous hero relying on nothing but her talent...
The sister he cherished enough to give his own life for might one day return as a cold corpse.
And if that moment arrived after his own silence, it would be no different from having killed his sister with his own hands a second time.
"...One of them wanted to lock his sister away somewhere safe even if it meant using harsher and harsher hands, while the other regarded even that as adversity and sought to pursue righteousness and chivalry. If you understand, then please tell me."
With eyes full of complicated emotion, Ma Tae-sang met Cheong-wol's gaze.
"Whose fault is it, exactly, that things have come to this?"