Chapter 8: Treatment of varicose veins (3)

No matter what the Sword Saint says to the martial world’s representatives outside, I have my own task to fulfill.

Recordkeeping.
I take up the brush and document everything in detail.

In two versions.
One is refined, written to avoid embarrassment for public readers and suitable for formal reports.

A brief excerpt from what I wrote:

> …Severed meridian syndrome fundamentally arises from yin energy suppressing the blood vessels. To address this at its root, we must balance the excessive yin by infusing yang energy into the patient’s body to harmonize their inner energy. Based on the principle of yin-yang union, the foundation of human vitality, by injecting extreme yang energy into a woman’s body filled with yin energy, vitality is restored…

> …Transferring yang energy externally through the skin may provide temporary effects, but these are negligible and meaningless. Thus, directly injecting a ‘medicinal fluid’ imbued with yang energy into the body is the key…

“…”

“Physician, are you done with the records?”
“Yes.”

Moyong Seol approaches me.
Fresh from the washing room in this annex—now more like a mansion—she carries the faint scent of flowers.

“It’s… long.”
“It has to be.”
“Couldn’t it just be: ‘Slept, released, cured’?”
“If you could say that in front of the Martial Alliance Leader, the Divine Monk, and the emperor, that would be ideal.”

I lightly unfold the second sheet, the one I wrote first.

“Eek…!”

Moyong Seol gasps, her face flushing as I reveal the paper.

“S-So explicit…!”
“I merely transcribed your actions exactly. If other patients with the syndrome replicate them, it might lead to a cure.”
“S-Still, it’s a bit embarrassing!”
“You realize that now? Weren’t you unashamed when you acted as described here?”
“W-Well…”

Moyong Seol lowers the paper, giving a shy smile.

“I did it looking at you, so it wasn’t embarrassment—it was more joy and happiness.”
“I feel the same.”
“Physician…”
“That’s why I’m debating whether to include that in the report.”

I interlock my fingers with hers as she reaches for me, pulling her into my embrace.

“That the one injecting extreme yang energy shouldn’t merely lust after a beauty but must approach the treatment with a sincere desire to save, cultivated over three years.”
“Is that a condition for curing the syndrome?”
“At least from the healer’s perspective.”

If that’s truly a condition for the cure, most current syndrome patients might find it difficult to be healed.

Instead, families with affected patients will now seek men of similar age to care for them over three years.

And three years from now, syndrome patients might start recovering.

“It doesn’t have to be exactly three years. Love doesn’t always take three years to ripen.”
“…Physician.”
“You knew, didn’t you? The look in my eyes the first day I saw you.”
“…No different from other men. Looking at me as if thinking, ‘Is this first love?’”

Moyong Seol caresses my face.

“But once they learned I had the syndrome, that it was the Nine Yin Severed Meridians, they averted their eyes. Even those who claimed they didn’t care lowered their gazes at the name of my father, the Sword Saint. Except for you, Physician.”
“I’m truly grateful to be a physician. It let me stay by your side for three years.”
“…You hated it, didn’t you?”

Moyong Seol lowers her hand, reaching for my shoulder.

“I caused so many wounds.”
“It’s not unusual for a patient to draw blood from a physician.”

Beneath her hand, deep scars remain.
Not just scratches from this time, but marks from sharp, sword-like cuts that have healed and reopened.

Was it someone from the Demonic Cult who scarred me?

No.
It was Moyong Seol.

“Back then, I…”
“When someone’s terminally ill, facing a death so painful that dying might seem better, it’s normal to want to destroy everything. Your scratching and biting my shoulder was the same.”
“…”

For three years, Moyong Seol was mad.
Anyone would go insane knowing they’d die in three years, but enduring daily agony—spitting blood, body breaking down—it’s stranger not to lose your mind.

“I’m sorry. Truly, I’m sorry.”
“Did you come to me because of that guilt?”
“No. Not to atone… Even when I raged like a madwoman, gripped by insanity, you always embraced and treated me.”

Moyong Seol pulls my hand to her cheek, pressing her face against it.

“I can’t say when it started. But because of that… I might have gone even madder. Someone loved me this much, yet all I could do for him was show him my dying self, leaving only a corpse.”
“Miss.”
“If I remained a villain, maybe I could leave without regrets. But I was too selfish.”

Moyong Seol tightly embraces me.

“A woman doomed to die tomorrow wanted to leave a mark on the man she loves, so he’d remember her forever. I committed that selfish act.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is selfish! Without asking, just to ease my heart, I forced…”
“It was selfish and forced, but from the moment you held me, I was happy too.”
“Ah…”
“You weren’t the only one who felt good. That’s where you’re wrong.”
“…Really.”

Moyong Seol lowers her head.
Her clothes grow damp, not with cold like ice, but with a warmth that seeps through.

“Your selfishness saved you. Because you reached for me, you broke through your own blood vessels and survived. So don’t dwell on it.”

I gently pat her back.

“Love is inherently selfish.”
“…Thank you for saying that, but it sounds like you’ve loved someone else before.”

Moyong Seol puffs her cheeks, poking me with her nails.

“You know more about love than I do?”
“Of course. I’ve known love for three years now, so I’m far ahead of you.”
“Ah.”
“What? Was there someone you loved before me?”
“As if!”

Moyong Seol laughs brightly, pinching my side.

“Fine, I’ll admit it, senior. But me loving someone else… oh!”
“…Tch.”

My side stings.
Moyong Seol quickly lifts my clothes, revealing skin scraped by her nails, with red blood trickling down.

Not severe, just a scratch.

“S-Sorry! I didn’t mean to…!”
“It’s fine. Just another line for the report.”
“What?”
“As yin and yang energies harmonize, vital energy flows properly through the blood vessels, brimming with life.”

If her strength when ill was that of a slightly strong woman, her strength now, fully healthy, is that of a martial arts master.

“A woman who overcomes the syndrome experiences an explosive surge in her suppressed growth, becoming a master in an instant. That’s my theory.”
“Oh… so.”

Moyong Seol clenches and unclenches her hand, smiling softly.

“You’re saying I’ve reached the peak state?”
“Possibly.”
“Wow…!”

Twenty years old. A peak-state female master.
One might say it’s late for the daughter of the greatest under heaven, but among late-stage prodigies around twenty, Moyong Seol is unmatched.

“Hehe, is this because of you, Physician, making me reach ecstasy multiple times?”
“Hah. Why not just say you fell into rapture?”
“Pfft…”
“No, wait.”

I grab Moyong Seol.

“Shall I make you feel so tormented you can’t tell if you’re alive or dead?”
“W-What are you saying…?”
“If you cross life and death enough times, you might reach the Life-and-Death State.”
“Haha…! The Life-and-Death State, even Father hasn’t reached that!”
“We’ll find out if we try.”
“Hmph. That’s just an excuse to hold me, isn’t it…?”

Moyong Seol brings her hand to her mouth, lightly licking the finger that wiped my wound.

“Like this, with me… hm?”
“?”
“…Hm?”

Lick.

“…Mm?”
“What’s wrong?”
“No, um, it’s just…”

Lick, lick.

“…Peach?”
“??”
“Uh, Physician. Want to try? It’s sweet.”

At her oddly serious words, I cautiously lick the finger she offers.

Lick.

“All I taste is my blood and your sweet trace.”
“No, not some romantic notion—I really taste it.”
“…Hold on.”

I swiftly reach for Moyong Seol, placing my hand on her neck.

Thump, thump.

“…Miss, open your mouth.”

I scratch my fingertip with my canine, then insert it into her mouth.

“!!”

Moyong Seol’s eyes widen in surprise, but she soon gently holds my hand with both of hers.

Lick, lick. Suck.

As she slowly licks and sucks, I focus entirely on her qi flow.

“…”

Weaker than the first time I infused yang energy, but despite the reduced effect, there’s definite improvement.

Just as yin energy began to overflow, disrupting the balance and flooding her blood vessels, red yang energy spreads from her mouth throughout her body, restoring equilibrium.

The speed and degree are less than our known method, but—

“…Physician, I’m imagining things, right? I’m just a lewd woman, aren’t I?”
Moyong Seol, lightly biting my finger, looks at me earnestly.

“…My body feels like it’s heating up.”

Until late evening, those gathered in the Moyong Clan’s reception room engaged in heated debate.

Various theories arose.

Is penetrating the yin meridians on the day of adulthood a condition?
Did three years of Physician Seok Muwol’s prescribed medicine accumulate to take effect?
Did the Moyong Clan’s secret techniques significantly influence the cure?

They approached it logically, medically, and martially.

They organized all possibilities and reached a tentative compromise.

But.

“In the worst case, if only Physician Seok Muwol’s extreme yang essence can cure the syndrome.”

One scenario they couldn’t agree on.

“What then?”
“My son-in-law is not a public resource of the martial world.”

The Alliance Leader swallows a sigh at the Sword Saint’s firm stance.

“Sword Saint, they’re camped outside the Moyong Clan’s walls.”
“…”

“Settling it with a duel would be easy for you. But what if they appeal to compassion, to a father’s duty, and beg?”
“…”

“Sword Saint, even you can’t answer easily now, can you? If only…”
“If Moyong Seol’s mastery of our clan’s secret techniques is the key to the cure, I’d willingly share them with the martial world.”
“!!”

A martial clan sharing its techniques with all is akin to giving away its foundation.

“Is your son-in-law that precious?”
“He’s the man my daughter loves. That alone is answer enough.”
“But…”

The Alliance Leader, mindful of the others’ gazes, swallows the most troubling concern.

Even if the Demonic Cult is now a hollow threat—

“I ask the Moyong Clan.”

The Divine Monk speaks.

“How will you handle the Demonic Cult?”
“…”

The Sword Saint remains silent at the Divine Monk’s question.

“You know as well as I that the Demonic Cult has more syndrome patients than the orthodox factions. Of the 108 patients, nearly two-thirds are daughters of unorthodox sects.”
“…”

“They’re not like those outside your walls, appealing as fellow orthodox members. In the worst case…”

The Divine Monk lifts his teacup.

“Countless cult members might try to kidnap your son-in-law to cure their disciples, daughters, or even wives.”
“No one can force my daughter to ‘share’ her husband. Not the Demonic Cult, not the entire world.”

The Sword Saint openly sneers at the Divine Monk.

“I thought those here had no direct ties to syndrome patients, but are you, too, just a man, Divine Monk?”
“What are you implying?”
“Now, now, Sword Saint, Divine Monk, restrain yourselves. If you two clash, it’d be worse than Huashan’s cliffs collapsing.”

The Alliance Leader steps between their tense standoff.

“Let’s calmly await the diagnosis results and those from elsewhere. Surely, it can’t be…”

To ease the tension, the Alliance Leader laughs heartily.

“That only Physician Seok Muwol’s extreme yang essence can cure the syndrome… haha, that can’t possibly be true, right?”