Chapter 58
Before the man could respond in any way, Yeon Sang-hyeon began inserting golden needles into his body.
“If you move while the needles are in, you really will become crippled.”
The man stopped moving.
Part 8: A Pot of Meat Porridge
The first to move before anyone else was Jeong-ah.
She approached Yeon Sang-hyeon and respectfully held out a small bamboo tube.
It was the bamboo tube containing his golden needles, which she had disinfected in boiling water after his last treatment.
“You bastard…! You’re the one who made Luoyang…! My family…!”
Yeon Sang-hyeon crouched beside the man and poked him sharply in the chest.
“Be quiet.”
The pain from his broken ribs left the man unable to even groan.
Yeon Sang-hyeon drew a golden needle from the bamboo tube Jeong-ah had handed him.
“If you keep talking, you will damage your lungs.”
After Yeon Sang-hyeon’s treatment was finished, Jeong-ah wrapped bandages around the man’s gaunt body.
Meanwhile, those who had cleaned up the courtyard, which had fallen into chaos, gathered again one by one.
They said nothing and simply stood guard around them.
Yeon Sang-hyeon spoke to the man, who was now sitting up and breathing much more comfortably.
“While I was at it, I fixed your ankle as well.”
At those words, the man tried moving his ankle.
Strangely enough, the ankle that had not even moved properly before now turned as it should.
“As long as you do not overexert yourself for a few days, you will be able to work as you did before.”
The man looked at Yeon Sang-hyeon with trembling eyes.
“You… You are…”
Yeon Sang-hyeon asked,
“Where did you serve?”
The man touched the tattoo engraved on his shoulder.
“…The northern front.”
Yeon Sang-hyeon nodded.
“Many died there. And many more were injured.”
At his words, the man’s emotions surged, and he glared at Yeon Sang-hyeon.
“And even though you somehow survived and came back, your family had already lost their lives in the successive floods.”
The man’s eyes widened.
As Yeon Sang-hyeon put away the needles, he said,
“…Many were like that.”
The man’s head dropped toward the ground.
Yeon Sang-hyeon placed a hand on the man’s shoulder.
“Even so, you returned safely. You worked hard, soldier.”
Tears burst from the man’s eyes and flowed down.
“You protected your country and your family.”
As the tears ran down, they mixed with the grime on his face and streamed in dark streaks.
No one of high station had ever praised him after he returned to his hometown.
No, even when the war ended, he had never received a single word of praise from any commander.
“Seeing how hard you lived, enough to twist your ankle like that…”
Yeon Sang-hyeon continued calmly.
“It means there is still family left for you to care for, is there not?”
At his words, the retired soldier nodded again and again.
“Then continue living diligently. Not for the Emperor or the Sword Clan, but for your family.”
Yeon Sang-hyeon continued,
“Never make the wrong choice. You are still standing beneath the bright sun.”
At those words, the soldier raised his head and looked at Yeon Sang-hyeon.
“You are…?”
Just then, the crowd parted, and the triplet maids walked over carrying a small pot filled with meat porridge.
Yeon Sang-hyeon placed the warm pot into the soldier’s arms.
The soldier could say nothing in the face of its warmth and aroma.
The venom completely vanished from his eyes.
“Thank you… Thank you…”
The soldier kept repeating only those words.
Again and again.
***
Yeon Sang-hyeon watched the retired soldier’s back as he walked weakly out through the gate.
The man was holding the pot close, as if it were a treasure.
Without saying a word, the Fourth Young Master took his elder brother’s hand.
Yeon Sang-hyeon held his hand in return and opened his mouth.
“Did you know? That soldier was conscripted and sent to the northern front.”
“…Conscripted?”
Yeon Sang-hyeon’s gaze remained fixed on the soldier’s back.
“At the request of the Imperial Court and the government offices, the Sword Clan personally stepped forward and conscripted the young men of Luoyang. Those from poor families were the targets.”
The Fourth Young Master turned his gaze toward the soldier, but he had already vanished from sight.
“Because they were easy to coax. Those who were conscripted were promised that their families would be cared for.”
The Fourth Young Master’s face darkened.
He could already guess well enough what kind of story would follow.
“But far from taking responsibility for their families, there was not even enough money for the war expenses at the time.”
Strength entered the Fourth Young Master’s hand.
“The Sword Clan, and the authorities, decided that taking responsibility for all of their families immediately would be a waste.”
The people nearby held their breath and focused on Yeon Sang-hyeon’s words.
They had calculated that once they won the war, they could distribute the spoils among those who survived.
But…
“The war was won, but it was a victory filled only with wounds, and there was no actual profit at all.”
The Imperial Court never mentioned that war again.
There was not even the common triumphal ceremony, and they were busy disbanding the conscripted corps that did nothing but consume food and supplies.
And during that war, the Central Plains suffered through years of famine.
There were hardly any families left to welcome back those who had barely survived.
No one thanked them.
No one spoke of the war they had risked their lives to fight.
The soldiers who returned had to head straight to harsh labor sites in order to protect what little family they still had left.
Afraid that they might cause trouble, the authorities and the Sword Clan removed everyone who might have become a focal point.
“Such a…”
It was yet another secret history, thoroughly hidden in darkness.
“Though it was only one person, I am glad you were at least able to comfort him, Elder Brother.”
Yeon Sang-hyeon raised his other hand and stroked the Fourth Young Master’s head.
“I did nothing. I merely said in someone else’s place the words he deserved to hear.”
While everyone remained silent from the shock, the Fourth Young Master clasped Yeon Sang-hyeon’s hand with both of his.
A bitter smile hung at the corners of his mouth.
“A single pot of meat porridge would probably have been of far greater help to him.”
Yeon Sang-hyeon’s gaze turned beyond the gate.
“It was not words like mine, but the fact that his family was still there, that allowed him to find strength.”
Yeon Sang-hyeon’s voice was calm.
“And because there was a pot of meat porridge, he was able to return home carrying hope.”
His gaze turned toward the Fourth Young Master.
“If you intend to accomplish great things in the future, remember this.”
It was heavy advice for his youngest brother, who was responsible for an entire group.
“A leader must never fall into self-pity or self-intoxication and distort reality.”
The Fourth Young Master listened attentively.
“You must remember that a single pot of meat porridge held greater strength than a hundred words from me.”
“Yes, Elder Brother.”
The young scholars around them nodded along, engraving Yeon Sang-hyeon’s words in their hearts.
Just then, a female physician approached Yeon Sang-hyeon and said,
“First Young Master, it is now time for the House of Mercy to close.”
The sunset was gradually spreading across the western sky.
Yeon Sang-hyeon firmly held his youngest brother’s hand and gave it a gentle shake.
“Now then, we should slowly return as well.”
The Fourth Young Master smiled brightly.
***
While everyone was preparing to leave, Yeon Sang-hyeon was meeting with the old woman, the shamaness of the Fairy Goddess Cult.
“What?! Is that truly so?”
The old woman’s hands began to tremble.
Yeon Sang-hyeon slowly shook his head.
“I do not know for certain either. It was merely a feeling I had…”
He stroked his chin.
“Thinking back on the things that soldier said…”
The root of all evil was the Sword Clan.
Luoyang was a giant pen for breeding livestock.
A religion that sold out its mother’s name to deceive the ignorant masses.
“It was not the sort of thing a soldier from the slums could easily say on his own. There is a high possibility that someone taught him.”
“…Indeed. There are similarities to ‘their’ methods.”
At his words, the silent old woman nodded.
“I shall send people to confirm it. However, for the moment…”
“All of your resources are lacking. I know. For now, at least check his house.”
The old woman bowed deeply.
“We are deeply ashamed that our abilities are lacking.”
Yeon Sang-hyeon gave a bitter smile.
“It is not your fault. How vast is this land of Luoyang, and how many people live here?”
He turned around and said,
“Wait just a little longer. The situation will begin to improve soon.”
***
The soldier ran through the darkening alley in one breath and arrived at a shack.
If his ankle had still been twisted, he would have been afraid of spilling the porridge from the pot, and it would have taken him several times longer than it had now.
The First Young Master of the Luoyang Sword Clan had said that if he rested for a few days, he would be able to use his ankle properly again, just as before.
If that happened, he would no longer have to fear his wages being cut in half.
If only that came true, then he and his younger brother would no longer need to worry about not even being able to put food in their mouths.
Still holding the warm pot, he carefully opened the door to the shack.
“Myeong-ah, look at this. Guess what your big brother brought back?”
There was no warmth at all inside the shack.
But he did not care in the slightest.
In Luoyang, where even firewood cost money, it was laughable for the poor to seek warmth.
“Myeong-ah, are you sleeping?”
Inside the dark shack, he moved carefully in case he spilled the porridge.
He wanted to show the porridge to his younger brother as soon as possible.
He wanted to see a bright smile spread across his brother’s face.
“Myeong-ah?”
His steps stopped.
His younger brother usually liked lying in the spot where sunlight came in.
And so, his brother was lying in that very place.
“Myeong-ah?”
Having experienced war, he could tell at a glance.
His younger brother, lying there without the slightest movement, was no longer of this world.
While his elder brother was away, his younger brother had ruined his own body as he struggled to support their family.
But in the end, all that had been left to his younger brother were two useless legs and a family that had starved to death.
The pot in his hands fell to the floor.
Meat porridge splattered everywhere.
A beast-like sound that could not be understood flowed from his mouth.
He embraced his younger brother’s body, which had gone cold.
Several clear cuts were carved into his brother’s wrist, and the blood that had flowed out had already dried into a sticky clot.
It was suicide.
For the sake of his elder brother, who could not receive proper wages because of his injured ankle, it was the only thing a useless younger brother could do.
His brother was holding a crude carving he had made himself in his other hand.
“Brother! It is a carving of the Medicine Fairy!”
His younger brother had once said that with a bright smile.
“She will protect us brothers from now on!”
With trembling hands, the soldier picked up the carving of the Medicine Fairy from his younger brother’s arms.
An incomprehensible scream and roar burst from his mouth.
The carving of the Medicine Fairy shattered.
The pot he threw crumpled as it rolled across the floor.
The meat porridge spilled over the ground mixed with his younger brother’s dried blood.
‘They’ were right.
There was no such thing as salvation in this world.
The true sinners were not punished.
The worst villains did not suffer.
“Never make the wrong choice. You are still standing beneath the bright sun.”
The words spoken by the First Young Master of the Sword Clan briefly circled in his mind, but soon vanished.
With his younger brother’s death, he was reaching the “truth” they had spoken of.
***
The sun had long since set, and his younger brother was merely rotting slowly in the cold night air.
He dug into the ground with both hands.
His nails were all torn off and his fingers were ripped apart from digging through the frozen earth, but he could feel no pain.
He pulled a small box out of the pit.
Inside the box were talismans inscribed with strange and ominous characters, along with a single candle as red as blood.
When he recited the incantation he had learned from them, a dark-blue flame rose from the candle.
“Nirvana is a lie.”
The talismans circled around his body.
“There is no paradise.”
A violent wind blew, and the candle burned even more fiercely.
“The Bodhisattva is dead.”
The dark-blue flame spread to his body, and he felt terrible pain.
“The immortals have departed.”
But his lips did not stop.
A savage and dreadful incantation flowed out on its own.
He wanted to scream, but what came from his mouth was only an incantation whose meaning even he did not know.
As his entire body burned, the words they had told him surfaced in his mind one last time.
“Remember, brother, the time of the end now draws near.”
The flames did not touch anything around him and devoured only his body entirely.
Those flames even consumed the last tears that flowed from his eyes.
“Remember, brother, the time of salvation now draws near.”
His body became black ash.
Then it scattered somewhere.
“There is only one truth!”
All that remained where he had been was the pit and the small box.
“Only the Demon Cult shall purify this filthy world back to its primordial form!”
Silence arrived.
Frost slowly began to settle over the corpse of a young boy.
And beside the corpse lay the head of the Medicine Fairy’s statue.
For some reason, that statue…
looked as though it was smiling.