Chapter 39
Cho Jin-roe told me to just take the medicine and go back, but there was no way I was going to listen to that. To begin with, the excuse I had used to come out was a lie.
The medicine Wang Seon-hwa needed was nothing more than a simple tonic. It wasn’t even necessary for her to take it.
The herbal ingredients for the tonic were regularly delivered by the Imperial Medical Bureau anyway.
I could count the lies I’d told in my life on one hand, yet ever since living in the imperial palace—no, in this world—I found myself lying whenever the chance arose.
“This is my fate.”
Buddha, surely you wouldn’t count lies told just to survive as a sin of speech, right?
For some reason, the gate leading into the Imperial Medical Bureau looked like the gates of hell. Even the guards felt strangely intimidating.
Still, the guards who had seen me several times before simply opened the door without a word.
Getting in was easy, but where was I supposed to find Wang A-seon?
As I walked slowly and scanned my surroundings, people passing by kept glancing at me.
“Hey, aren’t you from Seolmae Palace?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
I turned at the familiar voice and saw an elderly imperial physician who often visited Seolmae Palace.
“Is Her Highness unwell?”
“No. I came to pick up the tonic in advance.”
“I’ll have it prepared shortly. Would you like to wait while having some tea?”
His gentle face made me feel at ease. If it was this man, maybe he would tell me without asking too many questions.
“By any chance, has Prince Yanggang of Garin come by?”
“Hm? Ah.”
The physician frowned slightly, then nodded as if he had realized something.
“There’s a room inside with the character Je (濟) on the plaque. Don’t stay too long.”
“Thank you.”
With a warm smile, he went off to prepare the medicine. I also headed inward, trying my best to avoid people’s eyes.
Deeper inside, a row of single-room buildings stood side by side, each with a one-character signboard. In modern terms, they looked like private hospital rooms.
After passing about four rooms, I spotted the plaque with 濟 on it.
I reached for the door handle. I had meant to knock lightly, but before I could even touch it, someone else placed a hand on the door.
“Wan, you’re here.”
“Senior Brother.”
“Shh. You shouldn’t call me that here.”
Jin Su-o warned me quietly and opened the door. Maybe because of the doubt that had just crossed my mind, my body instinctively stepped back.
“Your Highness, Wan is here.”
Without even looking inside, Jin Su-o spoke, then pulled me into the room and closed the door.
Perhaps they had burned some calming incense for patients—the room was filled with lingering smoke.
Despite our entrance, Wang A-seon showed no reaction. I carefully approached the bed and lifted the long drape.
He was asleep, buried under blankets that smelled strongly of medicine. No wonder he hadn’t said anything.
His lips were cracked and pale, and cold sweat covered his face, clearly showing how much pain he had been in.
Had his leg been treated properly? The cloth covering it looked clean, but beneath the heavy medicinal scent, I could smell blood.
“Senior Brother, is His Highness’s leg… all right?”
“Well. As long as he stays lying down quietly.”
The indifferent answer sounded like Jin Su-o’s usual dry humor, but at the same time, it felt suspicious.
“The bone—”
“The bone will heal.”
“How?”
Was medical science in this era really that advanced? This wasn’t a simple fracture—it was an open fracture. The broken bone itself was bad enough, but infection and complications were even more terrifying.
On top of that, Wang A-seon had been injured outdoors, and who knew what had happened while he was being transported from the training grounds back to the palace.
Sensing something odd in my expression, Jin Su-o narrowed his eyes. I didn’t even know what kind of look I was giving him.
It could have been simple suspicion, or anger, or emotions resurfacing from when I myself had once been injured.
“Wan?”
A hoarse voice called my name. Jin Su-o and I turned our heads at the same time.
“How did you…?”
Unable to endure the pain while fully conscious, Wang A-seon’s eyelids trembled helplessly.
“Her Highness sent me. She couldn’t come herself…”
“…I see. Seon-hwa… I understand.”
His voice gradually lost strength. He weakly gestured with his hand.
“Will you help me sit up?”
“Yes.”
There was a backrest prepared on one side of the bed, likely for the patient’s sake. Afraid of worsening his leg injury, I carefully supported him and helped him sit up.
All the while, Jin Su-o stood there with his arms crossed, wearing a displeased expression.
“Are you really okay? How badly were you hurt? Was the bone set properly? How long did they say recovery would take?”
“Hey, hey. One question at a time.”
At Jin Su-o’s rebuke, I shut my mouth awkwardly after firing off questions in a rush.
A familiar silence settled around us, and Wang A-seon finally spoke.
“I am… fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
Jin Su-o said coldly and pulled away the thin cloth covering Wang A-seon’s leg.
This man—! They must have covered it to prevent infection. How could he just remove it?
“Senior Brother!”
“Look for yourself.”
“What would I even know from looking… what is that applied there?”
Wang A-seon’s leg was wrapped in a pale gray layer. White powder clung to it here and there, making me suspect something strange had been applied.
Like those folk remedies that did nothing but worsen wounds—smearing soybean paste on injuries, that sort of thing.
“It’s Baeksokgo (魄續膏). One of the secret elixirs passed down in Baeksan.”
“Baeksokgo?”
“It’s a bone-setting medicine. The ingredients are extremely rare, so we only brought two jars. But because His Highness devised such a reckless plan, we ended up using an entire jar.”
I’d seen plenty of miraculous bone-healing medicines in martial arts novels—things that didn’t exist in reality. So our sect really had something like that.
“So if you apply it, the bones just… fuse back together?”
“Well. First, I crushed the bones again that the imperial physician had poorly aligned.”
“…What you did was far beyond just crushing.”
Wang A-seon added quietly. What on earth did this senior brother do to a patient?
“Don’t look at me like that. You have to completely break the bones so the Baeksokgo can seep in properly. And that way, recovery is faster. It’s practically like the bones regenerate.”
“How long does it take?”
“About a month for a full recovery? You’ll have to lie still the entire time, though. But since this was all according to Your Highness’s plan, you’ll endure that much, right? Isn’t that so, Your Highness?”
With a tired face, Wang A-seon nodded.
“Wait. I don’t understand.”
“What don’t you understand?”
Something about this kept bothering me.
“Plans? Strategy? What are you talking about? Are you saying His Highness deliberately shattered—no, crushed—his own leg?”
“Yes. Didn’t I tell you back in Shangdo?”
“What exactly did you tell me?”
“I said not to be surprised if something happened. I even gave you a note.”
My face twisted into a strange expression. That was what it meant?
“What did the note say?”
“That a bone would break before the hunting festival.”
“What?”
That wasn’t what it said at all! There wasn’t a single word about hunting festivals or bones in that note!
“Just how bad was your character deciphering that you couldn’t read it?”
Wang A-seon snapped irritably. Well… it did seem like the two of them had developed some feelings while reassembling bones. Or maybe this whole incident just put them at odds.
“Exactly.”
I definitely shouldn’t mention that Wang Seon-hwa seemed to understand it. That would just make me look like an idiot.
“That’s not the point. You deliberately fell off your horse. So badly that the bone stuck out.”
I wanted to ask if he was out of his mind, but I held back. No matter what, you couldn’t say that to royalty.
Falling off a horse alone was dangerous enough, but what came after was even worse.
If he had been trampled and injured his spine or ribs, things could have turned far more serious.
“Why would you do something like that?”
No matter how grand a reason he gave, I couldn’t understand him.
Even if there was an elixir like Baeksokgo, how could he commit something like this without knowing what side effects or lasting damage might follow?
When our eyes met, Wang A-seon shrank back as if he’d been stabbed in the chest. The hand resting over his heart trembled faintly.
As he hesitated, Jin Su-o let out an exaggerated sigh.
“I admit this method is effective, but seeing His Highness in this state, I regret not stopping him more forcefully.”
“I’m asking for the reason.”
If it was some utterly ridiculous reason, I would—well, I couldn’t smack the back of a prince’s head, but I wouldn’t let it slide.
Did he have any idea how terrifying post-injury complications could be?
Wang A-seon pressed his lips tightly together, even avoiding my gaze. Instead, Jin Su-o spoke.
“The hunting festival is coming up.”
“Yes.”
Before I knew it, the hunting festival was right around the corner. In seven days, everyone would depart for the hunting grounds.
“He did this so he wouldn’t have to participate.”
“What?”
For that reason?
What kind of absolute nonsense was that?
