Chapter 43
Inside, Bing Yuhwa, who had long abandoned martial arts, was barely holding her ground, gripping a heavy sword.
She had strained so much that the veins in the whites of her eyes had bulged, as if she were crying blood.
Because of the flowing blood, her vision was blurred.
Thud.
Something struck the wooden floor of the Medicinal Hall.
It was a hairpin shaped like a snowflake.
It was an item Namgung On had bought while stopping by on his way here.
“Wife!”
Namgung On rushed forward and hugged Yuhwa tightly, almost crushing her.
“H-Honey…?”
Yuhwa’s throat tightened as if she couldn’t believe it.
“Is it really you…?”
“Are you hurt? The children? Your mother?”
Hot tears sprang from Yuhwa’s eyes at his words.
“Why were you so late…?”
“What do you mean by that!”
“You promised to come quickly… but it’s… ah… too late…”
Behind tearful Yuhwa lay her mother, collapsed, and her son, unconscious.
Namgung On’s face went pale.
“Mother! Baek Ah!”
At that moment, the unconscious Bing Yuhwa slumped to the floor.
“Honey!”
Namgung On caught her frail body. In his arms, Yuhwa’s lips, pale as paper, quivered.
“I told you… not to go….”
With that, Yuhwa lost consciousness.
“Honey! Is there no one here!”
Namgung On, ashen, suddenly looked at his palm. It was soaked in thick, red blood.
‘No… it can’t be!’
Alarmed, he glanced at Yuhwa.
Her skirt was completely soaked in blood.
From that day onward, their relationship changed.
Or more precisely, Bing Yuhwa herself had changed.
Even three years later, it remained the same.
“…That day, the Namgung family estate was infiltrated because of spies planted in advance by the villains,” Yuhwa said.
Always sensitive and meticulous, she had sharpened even further, driven by a single determination: to protect her child.
“Are you certain, sir, that this poor child wasn’t a spy for Myoga-jang?”
“That’s mere speculation. We investigated in every possible way, but found no connection between that day’s incident and Myoga-jang.”
It was true.
The Namgung family had scoured for the masterminds behind the villains with burning determination.
Yet the investigation was far from easy.
No evidence remained.
If it had been a group of resentful bandits, they would have targeted the storehouses holding valuable items.
If it had been martial artists coveting the Namgung family’s skills, they would have raided the library with secret manuals.
Yet astonishingly, the villains had targeted only the Medicinal Hall.
The problem was that its owner, Bing Yuhwa, had been treating the sick shoulder of her mother-in-law, Lady Wi.
And at that moment, Namgung Baek, her eldest son, was also present.
“If only one injured person had remained, I might have understood,” Namgung On said.
If that had been the case, he would have done whatever it took to extract information.
Regret clouded his face.
The villains who had turned the Medicinal Hall upside down had retreated quickly.
They had fled as soon as they heard the sound of hooves in the distance, carrying not only the injured but even the bodies of their dead allies.
“All that was left at the scene was this,” Namgung On said, showing a dagger he had kept tucked away.
It had a handle made of silver-crafted water buffalo horn, and a slightly curved blade.
It had been found next to fallen Namgung Baek, pinned to a scrap of paper.
The paper bore the words “Weak Age Poison (약령독).”
It was the name of the poison his son had been subjected to.
“According to the Sachaetang, it kills by the age of twenty, and there’s no antidote,” he continued.
If he hadn’t killed the Namgung heir right there, there was only one explanation: deep-seated revenge.
But from where did this vengeance arise?
Martial families often form countless connections of loyalty and rivalry.
No one could be certain who bore such intense malice.
“We investigated thoroughly, but no martial family in Anhui Province uses this poison.”
“Yet that doesn’t prove it’s not Myoga-jang’s doing!”
At those words, Namgung On remained silent.
Someone had to bear Yuhwa’s wrath. She had already lost the child in her womb and was about to lose her eldest son as well.
‘That someone… must be me.’
He had left her under the name of righteousness and justice. He could not forgive himself either.
Yuhwa said, her voice strained with anguish:
“If Baek also suffers because of this… I will never forgive you.”
At that moment of silence, Namgung On’s keen instincts sensed something.
“Who’s there!”
“P-please, I’m sorry!”
Hong Seol, pale, bent at the waist, her hands pressed against her lower abdomen.
“I—I didn’t mean to eavesdrop.”
The frightened child’s eyes trembled. She was panting from trying to explain herself.
“I thought it would be okay since Lady Wi let me in. I swear it’s true.”
Namgung On let out a small sigh.
It was indeed he who had instructed Lady Wi to allow Hong Seol into the Medicinal Hall.
“All right. Come closer and greet the Medicinal Hall owner.”
The child hesitated but slowly approached.
‘Is this the Myoga-jang child…?’
Bing Yuhwa found Hong Seol’s presence irritating.
“No greeting is necessary.”
At Yuhwa’s cold words, the child froze, as if her toes had turned to ice.
Namgung On intervened gently.
“Wife.”
“I’ll consider the greeting done. And your clothing…”
Yuhwa’s icy gaze swept over Hong Seol’s attire.
By chance, Hong Seol was wearing the silk clothes Namgung On had prepared for the child.
Though she had refused, Namgung On had insisted she wear them until new clothes could be made.
“I see what kind of child you are,” Yuhwa said sharply. Her words cut like a blade.
The child’s small shoulders trembled, and she hung her head in submission.
“Wife!”
Namgung On called to Bing Yuhwa again, but she did not look at him.
“I’m busy organizing medicinal herbs. Please leave now.”
Hong Seol lifted her fearful eyes to Namgung On, tears still clinging to them.
Namgung On sighed.
“Do as the Medicinal Hall owner commands, Hong Seol.”
“Y-Yes… I’ll leave now.”
Bowing, Hong Seol departed quickly, just as she had come.
Once her footsteps faded, Namgung On spoke heavily:
“Don’t you feel pity for that small child?”
“She is merely a child who might be a spy for Myoga-jang to me.”
“Hong Seol suffers from Yin-Yang Meridian disorder.”
At Namgung On’s abrupt words, Yuhwa’s expression changed.
“W-what…?”
“Exactly as I said. If the illness is cured, she could master Yin-Yang Martial Skills. In other words, Baek’s life depends on her will.”
Bing Yuhwa’s pale fingertips trembled.
“Does that mean…”
“I hope you will cure her, for her sake and for Baek’s.”
“Does Baek know this?”
“Not yet. We can’t be certain she can cure the disorder, and I didn’t want to give him false hope.”
Yuhwa remained silent. She had already endured so many cycles of hope and despair.
Her son had become a hollow-eyed boy, long since abandoned his beloved sword. Even if Changcheon Daeju forced him to train, it was only a formality.
The boy who once swung his sword with sparkling blue eyes was gone.
For a moment, silence fell. Lost in bitter memories, they did not even notice a white rat disappearing into a corner.
After some hesitation, Namgung On spoke softly:
“And if possible… treat the child kindly. She always misses her mother.”
At his words, Yuhwa suddenly remembered Lady Wi, her mother-in-law.
“Yuhwa, I know your heart is warm, but people in this world only notice when they see it closely.”
Lady Wi had said this while braiding her daughter-in-law Bing Yuhwa’s silver hair.
“So, treat the young and weak gently. Remember me when you do.”
Her mother-in-law, endlessly gentle and never scolding, had died protecting Yuhwa from a blade.
‘Remember me and be gentle…’
Those words, like a final wish, filled Yuhwa with a complex mix of emotions.
She lowered her head.
“Medicinal Hall owner, Lady Hong from the fabric shop has arrived.”
Lady Wi’s attendant spoke.
Lady Hong had been about to leave but had stayed to greet Bing Yuhwa.
Hearing this, Yuhwa’s face brightened faintly.
“All right, take her to the tea room. Tell her I will come shortly.”
