HDCLSSRS Ch 101

Chapter 101 Lifeline (6)

“Grill and boil them? Me?”

Seong Muyeon let out a hollow laugh.

“Do you know how much I struggled at first? There were even times I almost died.”

The memory of those miserable days rose up, and his nose stung unconsciously.

“And then?”

“I just… became close to them.”

It felt strange. There had been a time when stepping even a single step outside of Chwijungjae had been something he had to be extremely careful about. Now, it felt like an old, distant tale.

There were still people who disliked him, but these days there were more who viewed him favorably.

A faint smile hung on Seong Muyeon’s lips.

“Just wait and see. The Great One might someday change their mind about you, too.”

Yakseon still had a look of incomprehension. Neither Seong Muyeon nor Mount Hua met her standards. But since her standards were closer to the world’s, it wasn’t something to feel wronged about.

“So, you’re saying you’ll keep doing this until then? Truly persistent.”

“Of course. It’s that desperate of a matter for me. I had no intention of harassing you. I’m sorry, but I cannot retreat even a single step.”

A brief silence fell between them, broken only by the sharp shouts of training disciples echoing in the air.

“You said you’d do anything, right?”

“Yes. I mean it.”

“Then how about that?”

“What do you mean…”

Following Yakseon’s gaze, he saw the training ground filled with disciples in the midst of practice. Despite the freezing winter cold, sweat poured down their bodies as they pushed themselves ruthlessly.

…Huh?

In one corner of the training ground, running drills were underway. Among the disciples moving in perfect unison to warm their bodies, there was one noticeably slow person.

“Can’t you run faster! Faster!”

“Uaaaargh!!”

At the shrill voice of the instructor—no, Yakseon—piercing into him, Seong Muyeon ran like a madman. But his breathing had already risen to his throat, and his overworked limbs flailed pitifully.

“Haah! Haah! W–Why?! Haah! I’m an invalid!”

“Who said I didn’t know that?! Run! Run until your tail falls off!”

“Uaaaargh!”

Seong Muyeon gasped for air like he was about to spit out his lungs. His head felt dizzy. But Yakseon was a cold-hearted person without a speck of mercy.

“A healthy mind resides in a healthy body! If you want to overcome your illness, you must grow stronger than you are now! Run!”

“Huff… Haaah…”

This wretched stamina…

The price of having spent years lamenting his condition, neglecting any kind of physical training, and holing himself up indoors without sunlight had come due.

“Kkeureuk…”

Before long, his knees buckled, and he naturally slid down to the ground.

“Young Master!”

“Lord Seong!”

When Seong Muyeon collapsed, Kang Ung and Seomun Yuha, who had been training nearby, rushed over to help him up.

“Heavens, Young Master! Are you all right?”

“Please, stay with us!”

“Elder! If this continues, the Young Master will die! Please, just this once, go easy on him, alright?” Kang Ung pleaded tearfully to Yakseon. But she didn’t budge an inch.

“He won’t die! Get up, Seong Muyeon! Your illness doesn’t stop you from using your body—it just prevents you from operating your internal energy! You’ve got perfectly good arms and legs, yet you hole yourself up like a dying old man, and that’s why you’re getting worse!”

“I really… can’t move anymore…”

“You weakling!”

The training ground was filled with the murmurs of Mount Hua disciples watching the scene. From their point of view, it was baffling—not only to train alongside an ordinary person, but also to see someone collapse after running such a short distance. A few of the more immature third-generation disciples burst into laughter, only to quiet down quickly under Kang Ung’s glare.

In the end, Yakseon forced Seong Muyeon to finish the training. Truly, she was a terrifying person.

Afterward, he staggered like a newborn fawn, trembling in all four limbs, and barely crawled into the shade of a tree before collapsing.

“Huff… Huff…”

His vision swam yellow and spun—pure hell.

“Young Master, please drink some water.”

Kang Ung, wearing a face full of pity, handed him a canteen. When he saw that Seong Muyeon couldn’t even open the lid, he wiped at his own eyes and opened it for him, holding it to his lips like feeding a baby bird.

“Well, well, just look at this crybaby.”

Yakseon sneered at the sight of Seong Muyeon being fed water by a boy much younger than him.

“From tomorrow, you will be doing physical training at this hour every single day. Without fail!”

“…”

“Now get up!”

“And what is it this time? I already finished training!”

“You need to eat.”

Dragging him to the dining hall, Yakseon placed an enormous portion of food before him.

“Now, eat it all.”

“…All of this?”

The pile of food was so large it could have blocked his sight, even greater than what Baek Ryeoil usually ate.

“I’ve seen a lot of people with Jeolmaek who were on their deathbeds. And you know what? Every last one of them died before the medicine was even ready.”

Seong Muyeon, who was starting to feel defiant, froze at her words. Yakseon, without a second thought, scraped her own food onto his plate and continued speaking.

“What’s the point of working so hard to make the medicine, if—one month later—you could just up and die? I’ve been through it more than once or twice, you know. So you, you’d better survive until the end. You understand what I mean?”

With a face full of pity, Yakseon placed the final portion of meat onto his plate. But it wasn’t the look for someone simply unfortunate—those calm eyes also carried the resignation of ‘You’ll probably die soon anyway’. The chill it sent down his spine was undeniable.

“O–Of course!”

Tears threatening to fall, Seong Muyeon ate with determination. He stuffed himself until he was about to burst—for he wanted to live. Was there anyone else in the world so desperate to survive? This much food was nothing compared to that desire.

Seeing that he’d emptied his plate, Yakseon’s face lit up with delight.

“Oh? It seems you’re a bit different from the others.”

“Of course! I’m going to live, no matter what!”

Seong Muyeon patted his overfull belly with satisfaction.

But then—

Thud!

“Now, you could handle another plate, right?”

Yakseon brought yet another tray and set it down before him. Seong Muyeon’s face stiffened as the sheer volume of food overwhelmed him, draining the color from his cheeks.

“It’s very important to eat a balanced variety of good ingredients. Now, what did they put in this soup? Hey! What’s in the soup?”

Calling loudly toward the kitchen, Yakseon went off herself to find the head chef. Seong Muyeon seized the chance and bolted.

‘I can’t eat any more!’

Chwijungjae was empty. Though less than a day had passed, it felt like he had returned after a long absence. After briefly peeking into Baek Ryeoil’s vacant room, he scrambled into bed in his own room.

Until now, he had been overly focused on his own condition, using preserving his body as an excuse to stay still and reduce activity as much as possible. In recent months, this mindset had worsened, and he had barely moved at all. On top of that, since he couldn’t use internal energy and had to rely solely on his physical body, he was now fully feeling just how weak he had become.

‘But really, where did he go?’

The last image of Baek Ryeoil he’d seen in the guest hall lingered in Seong Muyeon’s mind. Somehow, his demeanor then had been different from usual. Was he angry because Seong Muyeon had collapsed? But there was nothing he could do about that, so resentment bubbled up inside him.

However, that feeling quickly passed. His limbs, fatigued from sudden overexertion, were trembling; his energy had all but drained, and the overeating had left him drowsy.

‘He’ll probably be back by evening. Then…’

But Baek Ryeoil’s shadow didn’t so much as appear for over a week.

Even so, thanks to having once trained in martial arts, Seong Muyeon managed to adapt quickly to the early morning training.

…Or at least, it would have been nice if that were true—but it wasn’t.

Even after several days, the training was still grueling, and being forced by Yakseon to eat like an ox was pure torment.

When training ended, and the disciples hurried off to the dining hall, Seong Muyeon lay spread out flat on the training ground. Seeing he had no intention of moving, Kang Ung hovered nearby uncertainly, until Seong Muyeon weakly waved his arm.

“Today, I really don’t want to eat… Please, go on without me…”

“But Master told me to make sure you ate three meals a day without fail, Young Master.”

At his words, Seong Muyeon’s head shot up in shock.

“Baek Dojang? When did he say that? He didn’t even come back yesterday!”

Kang Ung tilted his head.

“What are you talking about? Master went out early this morning.”