Mae Jang-so voluntarily withdrew from training.
After a few days of rest, he was assigned as a disciple to his family’s martial arts school and left the training hall.
That day, he smiled and insisted he was fine, though the smile seemed bittersweet. Still, it no longer felt hollow like before.
Kwak Yeon tried to convince himself that Mae Jang-so’s smile would grow brighter with time.
Though Mae Jang-so had left, the aftermath of his presence lingered.
The group that had coerced him began hovering around Kwak Yeon, and soon enough, they made their move.
As Kwak Yeon carried his food tray and looked for a seat, one of them, the boy with the raspy voice, stuck out his leg.
Kwak Yeon fell to the ground, his tray scattering food everywhere.
The boy looked down at him and sneered.
His voice carried no hint of apology—only a warning.
Whether dissatisfied with just intimidation or hoping to recruit Kwak Yeon as Mae Jang-so’s replacement, the raspy-voiced boy tripped him again the next day.
But Kwak Yeon, having anticipated the attempt, stepped aside and firmly stomped on the boy’s foot.
The boy shot up from his chair, glaring, but Seok Jangsan suddenly appeared and pressed down on his shoulder.
“Why don’t you stop?”
Seok Jangsan’s tone was calm, but his strength was enough to make the boy’s face flush red.
“You really want the instructors to notice this?”
The raspy-voiced boy hesitated, then nodded reluctantly.
Seok Jangsan clapped Kwak Yeon’s shoulder and said,
But after taking a few steps, Kwak Yeon stopped and turned around.
Seok Jangsan frowned.
“Kwak Yeon, you avoid filth because it’s dirty.”
“No, I avoid flies because they’re worse than filth.”
Ignoring Seok Jangsan’s confusion, Kwak Yeon walked back to the table where the group was sitting and set down his tray.
“If you’re worried about me talking, don’t be.”
His sudden boldness made the boys flinch.
“Mae Jang-so is still my friend. Honestly, if not for him, I wouldn’t even bother acknowledging you.”
Kwak Yeon glanced around at them before continuing.
“I don’t care what you do from now on. Mae Jang-so’s gone.”
Their expressions mixed relief with anger, but Kwak Yeon couldn’t bring himself to leave them like that.
“You’re probably finding every grain of rice rough as sand right now, and you can’t even taste your food.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Kwak Yeon locked eyes with the raspy-voiced boy.
“When your voice turns hoarse, it’s already a late-stage symptom. If you start seeing hallucinations, it’s too late to fix it. So think carefully before it gets to that point.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“Materia Medica, Essentials of Herbal Remedies, Guide to Healing Elixirs, Compendium of Prescriptions.”
Kwak Yeon listed the medical texts in the library, making the boy stiffen.
“You picked the strongest tonics from each book but didn’t consider the side effects of mixing them.”
As he picked up his tray, Kwak Yeon added,
“In the end, the decision is yours. I won’t interfere any further.”
Even after drawing a clear line, Kwak Yeon continued to feel the group’s hostile stares for several days.
But it didn’t last long.
A few days later, one of the boys coughed up blood and died while eating in the kitchen hall.
Another, terrified by hallucinations, jumped into a well and drowned.
After that, the raspy-voiced boy—their ringleader—panicked and confessed everything to the physician.
But not even Wudang’s skilled physician, Hyun Ik, could save someone whose life force had already been drained.
The boy lingered for several days before dying.
It was said that, in his final moments, he suddenly called out Kwak Yeon’s name.
Whether it was envy for Kwak Yeon’s ability to survive or regret for ignoring his warning, no one could say.
The incident led to Kwak Yeon being summoned for questioning by the physician.
“I heard there was some commotion during the Byeong-rank promotion test,” said Hyun Ik, studying Kwak Yeon with interest.
“The instructors reportedly faced severe reprimands.”
“Small disturbances happen everywhere, don’t they?”
“But when disturbances keep happening, it’s no longer just a coincidence. That’s why I’m checking your pulse. If there’s anything you’re hiding, speak now.”
Kwak Yeon quietly held out his wrist.
Hyun Ik, intrigued by Kwak Yeon’s composure despite his young age, began the examination.
“I heard the boy who shared your dormitory voluntarily withdrew. What was his name…?”
“Right. Mae Jang-so. Do you know why he left?”
“He said the training was too much for him.”
“Was that all he said?”
“He also mentioned being satisfied with training as a family disciple instead.”
Kwak Yeon knew Mae Jang-so hadn’t meant those words. They were just to reassure him.
“Did you ever see him associating with the boys who died from poison?”
Despite the tension, Kwak Yeon kept his composure.
He was determined to protect Mae Jang-so from any suspicion.
Hyun Ik checked Kwak Yeon’s pulse, noting its steady rhythm even during the questioning.
Finding no signs of poisoning or illness, he was about to end the examination when something about Kwak Yeon’s calm demeanor bothered him.
“By the way,” Hyun Ik said suddenly, “one of the boys who died called out your name with his final breath. Why do you think that is?”
Hyun Ik felt a slight fluctuation in Kwak Yeon’s pulse at that response.
It wasn’t enough to draw a conclusion, but it left him uneasy.
Unable to dismiss his doubts, Hyun Ik sent a small current of internal energy through Kwak Yeon’s meridians.
While this method allowed for deeper diagnosis, it was generally forbidden as it could cause pain, especially in someone without open energy channels.
Physician Hyun Ik had intended only to give Kwak Yeon a light internal energy stimulus, believing that his limited reserves of inner energy would barely be enough to cause a reaction.
But Kwak Yeon showed no sign of pain—no reaction at all.
Even more shocking, the energy Hyun Ik had infused simply dissipated, vanishing as though it had been absorbed.
Hyun Ik’s eyes widened in surprise as he stared at Kwak Yeon.
“I once stopped that boy from hitting someone,” Kwak Yeon explained calmly. “Maybe he remembered that.”
Hyun Ik studied Kwak Yeon’s unshaken expression and felt a strange unease.
Dismissing the thought that he might have made a mistake, Hyun Ik released Kwak Yeon’s wrist.
“Then I’ll take my leave.”
As Kwak Yeon bowed politely and turned to leave, a sudden memory struck Hyun Ik.
“Was it you who gave So Jin-sam his prescription?”
Kwak Yeon paused and nodded.
“I happened to find something about his sclerosis while reading a medical text in the library, so I wrote it down for him. Did something go wrong?”
“Wrong? No. His condition’s improving. That’s a good thing. But it’s hard to apply treatments straight from texts without prior knowledge.”
“I guess I was able to figure it out because I’ve been studying meridians and vitality cultivation.”
Hyun Ik let Kwak Yeon leave, but his mind lingered on the boy.
Was it really possible to identify a treatment based solely on reading a book?
While meridian studies and medicine overlapped in certain areas, their approaches were fundamentally different.
Meridian studies focused on energy flow and martial arts training, while medicine aimed at diagnosing and treating physical ailments.
If Kwak Yeon had truly deciphered the text’s treatment, then his understanding of meridians must have been exceptionally deep.
Hyun Ik shook his head.
Even after dedicating over ten years to medicine, he himself couldn’t have done that.
And yet Kwak Yeon, a second-year trainee barely maintaining his place in the Eul-rank Hall, had supposedly achieved it?
The boy didn’t even have enough talent to be confident about reaching the Gap-rank.
‘No, So Jin-sam’s improvement must have been a coincidence. A lucky fluke.’
But for Hyun Ik, that “fluke” felt like a breakthrough.
As a physician relegated to the training hall’s infirmary, Hyun Ik had struggled to progress in his studies.
Despite pouring himself into medicine, his stagnation had left him discouraged.
‘If I combine meridian studies with vitality cultivation techniques, maybe I can finally overcome this plateau.’
Excited by the thought, Hyun Ik pushed all concerns about Kwak Yeon from his mind.
Returning to his dormitory, Kwak Yeon let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Thanks to his composure, he had avoided disaster.
‘I almost ruined Mae Jang-so’s chances of a future.’
He thought back to the moment his composure had wavered—when the unfamiliar energy had entered his meridians.
It had spread through him like ink dropped in water, dissolving so completely that he questioned whether it had really happened.
And yet, the memory of that sensation only grew clearer with time.
He had no way of knowing it, but what he experienced was the pulse of inner energy.
Thanks to his daily practice of navigating the Celestial Meridian Map, Kwak Yeon’s meridians had begun to open.
When Hyun Ik’s internal energy entered his body, it spread quickly through those open pathways.
If anyone else had witnessed it, they might have called it Balmo Suesu—a technique where a master infuses their disciple with energy to clear blocked meridians.
It was a rare and sacred practice, as it consumed vast amounts of energy and required a special bond between master and student.
In Kwak Yeon’s case, it was a pure accident.
Hyun Ik’s energy was weak, and Kwak Yeon’s body merely absorbed it without significant effect.
Yet the pulse of inner energy flowing through his meridians and muscles left subtle traces.
From that day forward, Kwak Yeon’s physical development accelerated.
The stimulation had triggered growth in his body, which had previously been slow to progress.
“Are you sure you’re not going to get called back to the infirmary?”
Seok Jangsan eyed him half-jokingly, half-worriedly.
But Hyun Ik never summoned Kwak Yeon again.
Life returned to its grueling routine of endless training.
Gradually, Kwak Yeon’s feelings of regret over Mae Jang-so faded.
The only change was his nighttime routine.
He began visiting the kitchen hall to sit by the hearth, using the fire as a focal point for practicing the Celestial Meridian Map.
Jang Gu-sam, the head cook, rarely spoke to him, and Kwak Yeon didn’t mind.
The old man’s sleep grew deeper by the day.
Just being near him brought Kwak Yeon comfort.
When dawn approached and light streamed into the kitchen hall, Kwak Yeon would quietly add logs to the fire before returning to his empty dormitory.