The next morning, the heavy wooden doors of the guest quarters swung open, and Wol and Jo Mak stepped out into the bright sunlight.
They walked casually, stretching their arms and yawning as if they had just woken up from a deep, untroubled sleep. Just as Wol had predicted the night before, they didn't even make it past the courtyard before he felt the faint, lingering gazes of hidden watchers falling upon their backs.
The Grand Elder's spies were already in position.
Wol and Jo Mak didn't react. They played their parts perfectly.
For the entire day, from late morning until the sun began to dip below the horizon, they did absolutely nothing of importance. They wandered through the bustling inner markets, ate massive plates of roasted meat at expensive restaurants, haggled loudly over trivial trinkets at the merchant stalls, and acted exactly like a pair of rough mercenaries who had just received a hefty paycheck.
They gave the spies trailing them from a distance plenty of material to report back to the Grand Elder, but none of it was what the old man expected. There were no secret meetings. No suspicious movements. Just two men wasting time and money.
By acting like oblivious fools, Wol ensured that the watchers would slowly begin to drop their guard.
As evening finally hit and the shadows stretched long across the streets, they returned to their guest quarters.
The moment the wooden window slid shut and the latch clicked into place, their relaxed demeanors vanished instantly.
Wol and Jo Mak moved with practiced efficiency. They carefully removed the flawless skin masks crafted by Elder Han, revealing their true faces. Stashing the masks safely in their packs, they changed into dark, unassuming clothes.
Double-checking the patrol routes from the window, Wol nodded. The two of them slipped silently out through the back window, melting into the deep shadows of the estate walls.
Their first destination was the outer city.
Thirty minutes later, they arrived at the quiet, rundown alleyway housing the old antique shop. The front door was locked, but Wol knew the heavy wooden backdoor was always unlatched for trusted contacts. They stepped inside the dimly lit storage room.
The young boy who usually swept the floors was nowhere to be seen.
Elder Dong Pil was waiting for them. The old master sat quietly at a sturdy wooden table, the dim glow of an oil lamp casting deep shadows across his wrinkled face. He looked up as they entered, giving a small nod of acknowledgment toward Jo Mak before turning his sharp eyes to Wol.
"I have sent the letter," Dong Pil said, his voice a low, steady rumble. "It is traveling through one of our most secure channels. It will reach Han by the end of today."
Wol took a seat across from him, and Jo Mak stood near the door, keeping an ear out for the street outside.
"I haven't just been waiting around, either," Dong Pil continued, leaning forward. "I have discreetly gathered support. Some of the old council elders and their families—the ones who were expelled when the First Young Lord took charge—have agreed to stand with us. I've also secured the loyalty of the elite clan soldiers who still hold true to the Patriarch's ideals."
Dong Pil's eyes hardened with resolve. "If the Patriarch is restored to full health, we will have more than enough military and political power to completely purge the Grand Elder and his corrupt council in a single night."
The old man paused, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. "But our greatest problem remains. How do we secretly administer the true cure to the Patriarch when Guard Jin is stationed in his room day and night?"
Wol didn't answer immediately. He looked at Dong Pil, assessing the old man's absolute loyalty. Dong Pil thought this was a simple power struggle. He didn't know the true depth of the nightmare.
"The problem is much larger than Guard Jin," Wol finally said. "Elder Dong Pil... you need to hear everything."
Over the next few minutes, Wol stripped away the last remaining illusions Dong Pil held about his clan. He detailed everything they had uncovered the previous night: the fake rumor circulating in the slums, the impending assassination of the Patriarch scheduled in exactly two weeks, and worst of all, the Black Market syndicate actively injecting the Black Lotus Poison into the city's vegetable supply under the guise of the First Young Lord's 'open trade' policy.
When Wol finished speaking, the small room was dead silent.
Dong Pil sat completely frozen. He was speechless. All this time, the old man had believed this was merely a factional dispute born of greed—a battle for the Patriarch's seat. He had never imagined that the people within the family were actively plaguing their own territory and selling out the entire Namgoong legacy to a criminal syndicate for their own benefit.
Slowly, Dong Pil lowered his head, pressing a trembling, calloused hand against his forehead. The weight of the betrayal was crushing him.
Jo Mak glanced at Wol, his expression grim.
"It is a lot to digest, I understand," Wol said, his voice calm but firm, cutting through the heavy silence. "But we do not have the time to sit here and regret, nor can we launch a blind rebellion without clear, undeniable evidence."
Dong Pil slowly lifted his head, his eyes burning with a mix of profound grief and intense anger.
"Beyond simply saving the clan," Wol continued, "we need supervision and intervention from the Murim Alliance. A highly refined drug like this might not just be circulating in the Namgoong territory. The faster we find the root of this distribution and make it public, the more the other Orthodox clans will be on guard."
Wol leaned slightly closer across the table. "I am absolutely sure Elder Han will finish brewing the true medicine as fast as humanly possible. He has spent the last five years regretting that he couldn't save his old friend. He won't fail now."
Wol stood up, his gaze locking onto Dong Pil's.
"Until then, our task is clear. First, we need to map out this entire conspiracy. We have to find and identify every single traitor working within the estate, from the lowest guard to the highest elder. And while we do that..." Wol's eyes narrowed dangerously. "...we must keep up the act. We act as if we know absolutely nothing."
Dong Pil took a slow, deep breath, forcing himself to collect his composure. He understood exactly what Wol meant. The time for grieving would come later; right now, they needed to survive.
He gave a solemn nod. "If you two hadn't uncovered this... the Namgoong clan, our territory, and our people would have blindly walked straight into a dead end."
The old master stood up and bowed deeply, lowering his head in a gesture of profound respect. "I sincerely thank you for helping us. I am deeply ashamed to be troubling you even further with our internal failures, but please... help us save the clan. We will repay this debt tenfold when everything is settled."
Jo Mak and Wol looked at each other for a brief moment.
Wol reached out and gently pushed the old man's shoulders up, refusing to let him bow. "There is no need for that, Elder Pil. I told you before that we were only here because we owed Elder Han a favor. But now that you know exactly who we are, there is no need for us to lie."
Wol spoke with genuine sincerity. "Elder Han and us... we work together. A problem that threatens him and his friends is a problem that matters to us. You don't need to worry about repayment. We are doing this of our own accord."
Dong Pil looked at the young man standing before him. The thick fog of pain and betrayal that had clouded the old man's eyes finally began to clear, replaced by a warm, shining light of genuine gratitude.
He nodded slowly.
Without another word, Dong Pil reached deep into the inner folds of his heavy robe and pulled out a thick, sealed envelope made of high-quality parchment. He handed it across the table. "Here."
Wol took it, feeling its weight. Jo Mak leaned in, his curiosity piqued. "What is this?" Wol asked.
"The entire, detailed map of the Namgoong territory," Dong Pil answered, his voice dropping low. "It includes the patrol routes, the hidden servant corridors, the secret underground passages, the family vaults, and the main treasury."
Wol's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. A map like this was a clan's most closely guarded secret. "Is it really okay to hand something like this over to an outsider?"
Dong Pil actually let out a dry, rattling laugh. "I was hesitant at first. But now that I know you are far more trustworthy than half the people currently sleeping inside the main family estate... I am not worried."
The old man patted Wol's hand. "Make use of it for your future moves. And please, feel free to ask if you need absolutely anything else."
Wol secured the envelope tightly inside his jacket and gave a sharp nod.
With their new objective set and a powerful tool in hand, Wol and Jo Mak slipped back out through the heavy wooden door, disappearing once more into the shadows of the outer city.
***
Hundreds of miles away, in the slums of River Dragon City.
The air in the small, cramped clinic was thick with the scent of boiling herbs and burning wood. Smoke rose in thin, gray spirals from a large iron furnace set into the wall. A man moved with practiced, absolute precision in the dim light, transferring dried ingredients from a wooden cutting board into the bubbling pots.
Elder Han didn't look up from his work until the sound of heavy footsteps approached the clinic.
The wooden door opened with a creak, and the pale light from the street spilled inside. A tall, muscular figure stepped through the frame, casting a massive shadow across the dusty floor.
"Elder Han. There is a letter," Goo Jung said, his deep voice carrying over the crackle of the furnace.
Han wiped his hands on an old rag and turned around. "Goo Jung. Who is it from?"
"I was trying to figure that out," Goo Jung replied, walking forward and holding out a sealed parchment. "I gave it to my sister to read to me, but she said it's not normal text. It's written in some kind of code or symbols. The only part she could read was your name on the front."
Han stepped into the dim light spilling from the door. As his eyes fell on the faint symbol stamped onto the wax seal, his expression completely changed.
He snatched the letter from Goo Jung's hand as fast as he could, without saying another word.
He knew exactly where this was from, and who had sent it. It was the secret cipher he and Dong Pil had used decades ago. With a trembling hand, Han broke the seal and unfolded the heavy parchment. He had been expecting this. He had prayed every night for a positive result from the pills Wol had delivered.
His eyes scanned the first few lines rapidly. He let out a long, shuddering breath. *The medicine is showing results. His condition has stabilized.*
But as he moved to the second sentence, the old physician's eyes shot wide open.
"That... that can't be..." Han whispered, his voice cracking.
*The Patriarch is a prisoner in his own room. Guard Jin is compromised. The Grand Elder has taken over the council and the First Young Lord has opened the gates to outsiders. They are slowly dismantling the clan. The sickness was not an accident. He is being poisoned from the inside.*
"All this time..." Han let out a hollow, helpless gasp. "The problem was not created from the outside. It was within the family..."
Tears welled up in the old man's eyes as the crushing weight of the last five years crashed down on him. He had spent half a decade desperately trying to find an external cure, when the poison was being fed to his old friend from the inside by his own flesh and blood.
He read the remaining details begging for his immediate return before the Patriarch was killed.
The tears stopped.
Han's fists gritted so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The profound sorrow in his eyes burned away, replaced by a fierce, glowing anger.
He looked up at Goo Jung. "I am leaving for the Namgoong territory in two days. Get a carriage ready, and prepare a driver."
Goo Jung frowned, sensing the drastic shift in the air. "Elder Han... what is that letter about? Who is it from?"
Han didn't try to hide the truth. "It seems the medicine I sent showed positive results."
Goo Jung's face lit up with a rare smile. "So the Patriarch is awake?"
"No," Han replied, his voice cold and hard. "He is feeling better, but the medicine only suppressed the poison for a little while. I didn't consider the true cause while making the cure. The sickness will return to him sooner or later. The reason this all happened..." Han's jaw tightened. "...is because someone from the family sold their own Patriarch's life for their own greed."
Goo Jung looked confused for a moment, but as the pieces clicked together, his expression darkened into a scowl. He understood exactly what was happening.
"Alright," Goo Jung said firmly. "I will come with you. I'll prepare the necessities."
"No, there is no need for that," Han immediately rejected. "You stay here and take care of your sister. It is too dangerous."
Goo Jung shook his head sideways, refusing to back down. "It's fine. She is going to stay with Nari. They've become close lately, and they are taking care of the newly planned business together. You saved my sister's life, Elder Han. You did something for us that can never be repaid. I want to be helpful to you. Please, let me accompany you."
Han looked at the towering, earnest warrior. He knew he couldn't reject him.
"Alright," Han finally agreed, giving a sharp nod. "Take two of your strongest brothers with you. The others will stay here to treat the local patients and look after the clinic. I have to start preparing the true medicine immediately."
Han turned away from the furnace and walked toward the very back of the room. He stopped in front of a small, wooden shelf that looked like it hadn't been opened in years.
He stared at it for a long second, his heart heavy, before finally reaching out and unlocking the latch.
Inside sat a single, neat blue book.
There was no name on the cover. No author. It looked completely unspectacular. But Han knew the terrifying value of the knowledge held within those pages. It was the personal medical journal that his master, the legendary Thousand-Faced Divine Physician, had carried throughout his lifelong journey.
It contained cures, forbidden methods, and everything the man had experienced in his life.
Han had never depended on it. He respected his master too much to simply steal his answers. He had always believed he needed to find his own path in medicine.
But right now, his best friend was dying, and an entire clan was about to be swallowed by the shadows. He really needed his master's help.
Han carefully opened the blue book, the aged paper crinkling in the quiet room. He flipped through the pages until his eyes locked onto a specific, detailed entry.
"Goo Jung," Han said, his voice echoing in the dim clinic without taking his eyes off the page. "Can you get me some materials?"
Goo Jung nodded.