Surviving as the Sacheon Dang Clan’s Servant - Chapter 97

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 97
Despite the Deposed Consort’s refusal, Wol Am continued to press his case.
“Your Highness. I cannot rest easy unless I confirm the state of your health.”
“Monk. I…”
The Deposed Consort’s lips had been moving, but when our eyes met, she let out a quiet sigh.
“Very well. If it will set your mind at ease, then so be it.”
Having spoken her consent, she gestured for me to approach with the ease of one accustomed to commanding others. I bowed lightly and moved forward with care, placing my hand upon her arm.
I bowed lightly and moved forward carefully, placing my hand on the Deposed Consort’s wrist.
“Forgive the intrusion, Your Highness.”
As I drew back the long sleeves of my Buddhist robes, a skeletal wrist came into view. Her gaunt frame carried no vitality—like a withered tree stripped of all life.
Her pulse was far more grave than I had expected.
It was so faint I feared it might cease altogether at any moment—the pulse of one whose vital energy had nearly exhausted itself.
No wonder she had seemed unaware of the Hermitage’s presence.
When my expression darkened, the Deposed Consort smiled weakly.
“It is hopeless, is it not? I know my own body better than anyone. With whatever time remains, I wish only to spend it in peace, rather than suffer through fruitless treatments.”
“Your Highness…”
Wol Am’s face grew troubled, and he rubbed at his eyes. Sensing the heaviness between them, I found myself awkwardly scratching my cheek.
“No, actually. There is a way to heal you.”
The Deposed Consort’s eyes widened.
“Pardon?”
“Benefactor, is there a method?” Wol Am asked, his eyes suddenly bright as he seized my sleeve.
Wol Am’s eyes gleamed as he grasped my sleeve.
“This illness stems from Your Highness having abstained from grains. If we strengthen the spleen and stomach, and include meat in her meals, she will recover quickly. It should take roughly three or four months.”
“Must it be meat, specifically?”
“Yes, absolutely. Your vital energy has been depleted far too severely. It would be best to begin with clear meat broth, then gradually increase the quantity of her meals.”
At my prescription, Wol Am’s expression darkened again.
“I understand your meaning, Benefactor. But the Buddhist Order does not take life. Moreover, in this remote mountain valley, there is no way to procure meat.”
“True. You monks would not.”
I smiled as I looked at Wol Am.
“But my brother and I are not bound by such vows. We can bring provisions from outside.”
At last, Wol Am seemed to grasp my meaning, and a smile spread across his face.
“I am grateful, Benefactor. The recovery of the Deposed Consort is paramount.”
“No, Monk. How could I, sworn to the Buddhist Order, partake of flesh? It cannot be…”
“The Buddha forbade the taking of life, not the consumption of meat, Your Highness. The Blessed One himself was nourished by a rice gruel of goat meat. In distant Tibet, the monks too consume meat. Pay no mind to such trifles. Focus instead on your recovery, Your Highness.”
“Monk…”
“You must recover quickly so you can return to the palace.”
“Do you think there will ever come a day when I return to Jinling? When His Majesty cast me out with his own hand?”
The Deposed Consort gazed into the void with an icy stare.
“My beloved Emperor took my child, slaughtered my family, and annihilated the So Clan—and now you speak of his summoning me back?”
Her face, which had been speaking in a low, almost musical cadence, twisted grotesquely like a demon’s mask. Her body shook with anguish, one hand clutched to her chest.
“Your Highness. You must calm your spirit. Follow me—breathe deeply with me.”
Wol Am patted her back gently, trying to soothe her. He seemed well acquainted with the sight of her bloodshot eyes and tears streaming like blood.
It was not mere starvation, then. This was Emotional Illness.
It was not difficult to imagine what horrors the Deposed Consort had endured when cast out from the palace.
The sight was difficult to bear—like a thorn lodged in one’s throat.
I turned away and pretended not to see her weeping until it subsided.
* * *
I simmered the medicinal decoction with white atractylodes, licorice, ginger, and magnolia bark.
Since it would go into an empty stomach, I kept the potency mild. The consistency needed to be neither too thin nor too thick.
For a half hour, I kept vigilant watch over the fire. Wol Am, who had been pacing nervously around the edges, suddenly took the fan from my hands.
“Allow me, Benefactor. How much longer should the decoction simmer?”
“Just another quarter hour, then let it cool slightly before she drinks it. It must not be too strong.”
“Understood. Leave this to me and go about your task.”
He meant for me to go and catch some meat.
I left the Hermitage without protest and wandered down the mountainside.
I sensed no large game, only scattered rabbits hopping about here and there.
I would have preferred a deer, but no such luck. Still, how exactly does one skin a rabbit?
Downing a rabbit with a pebble was simple enough, but the moment I considered actually touching it, I hesitated.
I had never butchered anything—I could count on one hand the times I had even held a live chicken—and I had no idea where to begin.
As I stood there holding the rabbit, deliberating at length, a familiar presence drew near.
“Where is that meat smell coming from? Ah, it must be your handiwork.”
“Hah! Brother, what kind of sight is that?”
I laughed at Yeon Ryang, tears streaming down my face as our eyes met.
The way he shuffled about in Buddhist robes that hung loose on his frame was exactly like a rogue who’d stolen someone else’s clothes.
“How’s this, sister? Dressed like this, even a Demonic Path wretch like me practically reeks of the Buddhist Order, don’t I?”
“You look like a runaway monk. Or a brigand who got in trouble and hid himself in a temple.”
“Ah, a failure then.”
Yeon Ryang shrugged and mimed disappointment.
“Where’s Ju Ryeong?”
“Sleeping. Collapsed in the Courtyard.”
“Can you walk around a bit? Your body doesn’t feel heavy?”
“Thanks to you clearing all my meridians with the Great Acupuncture, I feel light as air.”
“Good to hear. No cultivation until you’re fully recovered. And if you overtax yourself again, I’ll pierce your Baihui Acupoint with the Secret Blade—remember that.”
“……Sohye. Isn’t that the same as killing me?”
He licked his lips and stepped closer, asking the question.
“You’ve caught quite a few rabbits. Going to butcher them?”
“Yes. There’s a Deposed Consort staying at the Hermitage—she’s not well. I wanted to make her some broth to bring her. And you said you wanted meat too, so I caught extra.”
“A Deposed Consort? Confined then. Better than the Cold Palace, I suppose, though she won’t live long.”
“Watch your words, brother. Do you know how to butcher? I’ve never done it before.”
“A girl raised in luxury? Here, let me.”
Taking the Short Sword I handed him, Yeon Ryang sat beside me and began preparing the rabbit meat with practiced efficiency—the movements of someone who’d done this more than once or twice.
As he worked methodically, he asked quietly.
“When did you find out?”
“I’ve known your true identity from the start.”
“How? I thought I covered my tracks.”
“Look, you made such a suspicious show of extracting that False Elixir’s energy, and you thought no one would notice? Who else but someone steeped in advanced Demonic Cultivation could draw out another’s True Qi as easily as draining broth through a sieve?”
Yeon Ryang laughed awkwardly at my criticism.
“And when you channel your Internal Qi, your eyes turn red.”
“A martial artist’s eyes taking on the color of their internal energy—that’s common, isn’t it?”
“True. Most people wouldn’t think twice. But an Internal Qi stained that deeply crimson—blood-red enough to raise the hairs on your skin—that’s not common.”
“So it was my eyes.”
“It wasn’t just your eyes. Everything about you reeked of suspicion.”
“How did the Hao Gate figure it out?”
“You sent a signal from the inn. I know it too—I have an acquaintance there.”
“……Sigh. And you know what I went to do? What I got?”
“You took the Anti-Poison Elixir. The kind you have to take once every three months, right?”
Yeon Ryang let out a hollow laugh.
“You really do know everything.”
He seemed at a loss for words, his lips working soundlessly before he asked softly.
“……Does it bother you? At all?”
“Why would it? You’re still my brother.”
……
At my answer, the corners of Yeon Ryang’s mouth trembled slightly.
His expression wavered between something like laughter and something like tears before his lips pressed into a thin line.
“You’re only the second person to act unbothered after learning what I am.”
“The second? Who else knows?”
“There’s a monk at Shaolin—Beop Gong. We got into a dispute over drinks in Luoyang, and when he saw my Demonic Qi, instead of being shocked, he found it amusing. We fought once, then sat down together and got to know each other over drinks.”
……Shaolin? The Shaolin I know?
What kind of monk drinks with someone from the Demonic Cult anyway? The future of the Martial Alliance looks bright.
Of course, I was hardly one to judge, traveling alongside a Demonic Cult member posing as my brother.
“Well, that’s good then. You’ve gained a friend and a sister, so you’ll find one more person unbothered by it all.”
Yeon Ryang chuckled at my casual reply.
“Think so?”
“I know so. If you’re really that worried, just break your dantian and abandon your Demonic Cultivation.”
“Sohye. Just tell me to bite my tongue and die.”
“This is done, right? Should I take it and start the broth?”
I picked up the meat and bones Yeon Ryang had prepared, acting as though nothing unusual had passed between us.
Yeon Ryang smiled and nodded as if to say go ahead.
The shadow of unease that had settled on his face seemed to lift, if only slightly.
* * *
The first attempt at meat broth ended in utter failure.
The soup bubbled convincingly enough in the pot, and Yeon Ryang hummed as he tasted the broth, then—
“Sohye.”
“Hmm?”
“Don’t ever cook again. A beggar on the streets wouldn’t eat this slop.”
His voice turned glacial, his expression hardening.
“What? Brother. I wasn’t born yesterday, I was a court servant—!”
“So you’re an illegitimate child who worked as a servant? Your family has its own peculiar quirks. In any case, you were a servant. You cleaned and hauled water, but you never apprenticed with the kitchen staff, did you?”
How could he possibly know that?
I laughed sheepishly, clicking my tongue.
“I asked you to make broth and you made poison instead. I’ll handle the cooking from now on—don’t you dare touch a kitchen knife again. You’ve wasted perfectly good meat.”
“All right.”
Yeon Ryang rarely took that stern tone, so I answered meekly.
It was easier and better if I didn’t have to cook anyway.
“No wonder the medicinal decoction tasted so wretched…”
Yeon Ryang muttered, emptied the pot, and started boiling fresh water.
He simmered bones until the stock turned rich and amber, then boiled the meat until it became tender as cloud—and the savory aroma hit like a wave.
The fragrance was so enticing that even Elder Seol, passing by, paused to peer inside before moving on.
Yeon Ryang sliced radish thin, seasoned the broth with salt, tasted it, and set down the ladle with satisfaction.
“Here. Take this to her.”
“Brother, you’re actually quite skilled.”
“This brother of yours excels at everything except what he cannot do.”
What nonsense.
I waved off Yeon Ryang lightly and carried the broth to the Deposed Consort’s chamber on a tray.
“Your Majesty, may I enter?”
“Come in, miss.”
The Deposed Consort greeted me with noticeably brighter spirits than this morning.
“Did you take the medicinal decoction?”
“Yes. I feel much easier. Thank you for your concern.”
“If you’re feeling better, try some of this too. I’ve brought meat broth.”
“Ah… but…”
“Wol Am said recovery comes first, didn’t he? Just a spoonful. Please—it’s my gesture of care.”
I urged gently and set the broth down. The hesitant Deposed Consort finally seated herself at the table.
She gazed at the broth with conflicted eyes for a long moment, then—with trembling hands—brought the pale, steaming spoon to her lips.
I swallowed hard, my gaze fixed on the spoon disappearing between her lips.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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