Chapter 71

Worrying that he might dislike cooking turned out to be futile—Cheon-oh was genuinely enthusiastic. When Cho Yoon eagerly devoured his food, his happiness seemed even greater. With his deft hands, sharp intellect, and sensitive instincts, his culinary skills improved rapidly. After half a year, he could even attempt to prepare medicinal cuisine, just like Cho Yoon.

Before he knew it, Cheon-oh was actively catering to Cho Yoon’s unique palate.

Though Cho Yoon didn’t want to burden his disciple with preparing all three meals every single day—taking charge of breakfast and dinner himself—lunch was exclusively Cheon-oh’s domain.

Cho Yoon merely observed whether the herbs the boy selected were appropriate, offering advice when Cheon-oh agonized over recipes, which seemed to be exactly what the boy desired.

Popping a piece of meat into his mouth, Cho Yoon chewed, instantly greeted by tender texture and rich flavor. The braised duck was incredibly soft yet delightfully chewy. The aroma of the accompanying medicinal herbs stimulated his appetite, and the moderate amount of fat prevented the dish from feeling overly greasy.

Nodding approvingly, Cho Yoon spoke.

“You included milkvetch root, castor aralia bark, and Siberian solomon’s seal. Well done. What effects does this dish possess, and who would benefit most from eating it?”

“Duck—or rather, poultry—and Siberian solomon’s seal possess the properties of tonifying deficiency and nourishing yin, so I believe it would be excellent for those whose bodies and minds are depleted, or those whose excessive yang energy has become toxic,” Cheon-oh recited fluidly. “Furthermore, it replenishes the blood, vigorously stimulates full-body circulation, contains very little toxicity, and soothes the five viscera, making it highly beneficial for those requiring physical rejuvenation.”

“Indeed. It is exceptionally good for a child in the midst of a massive growth spurt like you. I bought this specifically with you in mind, so eat plenty.”

“Yes, Master.”

Seriously, whose disciple is this? How can he speak so flawlessly while being this brilliantly adorable?

In Cho Yoon’s eyes, Cheon-oh was still nothing but a cute child.

The fact that the boy was rapidly approaching six cheok in height, rarely showed any facial expressions, and possessed a voice that was steadily dropping octaves mattered absolutely not at all. In fact, Cho Yoon was so thrilled watching the boy shoot up like a sturdy bean sprout that whenever he descended the mountain to visit the escort agency twice a month, he practically hauled back a mountain of meat.

Smiling with deep internal satisfaction, Cho Yoon scooped up a small portion of rice with his chopsticks and placed it in his mouth. As he chewed methodically, the rhythmic movement of his neat jaw gradually slowed. Tilting his head slightly, Cho Yoon swallowed the rice before abruptly hardening his expression.

Raising a hand, he immediately halted Cheon-oh’s movements.

“Wait. Stop.”

“…Master?”

Cheon-oh, who had just been about to begin his meal, was instantly bound by Cho Yoon’s deployed internal energy. Though it was a thinly spread force lacking any crushing pressure, Cheon-oh found himself completely immobilized, as if his master had physically clamped down on his wrists.

Shifting his gaze—the only part of his body still free to move—to study his master’s complexion, Cheon-oh asked cautiously, a sudden spike of fear gripping him that he had committed some grave error.

As Cho Yoon thoroughly analyzed the lingering taste in his mouth, he slowly lowered his raised hand.

Simultaneously, Cheon-oh’s hands—still clutching his rice bowl and spoon—sluggishly lowered to the table, as if connected by invisible puppet strings. Offering no resistance, Cheon-oh followed his master’s guidance, setting down his utensils and waiting anxiously for an explanation.

As if to confirm a suspicion, Cho Yoon meticulously took one more bite of rice before speaking.

“What did you add when cooking the rice?”

“I only added rice, mixed grains… and water.”

“…Did you prepare the steamed duck first?”

“Yes. Since I calculated it would take longer than the rice, I placed the steamed duck on the fire first.”

“…”

As Cho Yoon’s brow furrowed slightly, a deeply tense Cheon-oh furiously scanned the food laid out on the table. Whatever had displeased his usually inscrutable master was undoubtedly sitting right here, yet his eyes couldn’t perceive anything wrong, driving him mad with frustration.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Cho Yoon spoke.

“Recount every single action you took in the kitchen, in exact order.”

“Yes, Master. First, I prepped the medicinal herbs and the duck, and placed the steamed duck on the fire. After that, realizing I had run out of the drawn water, I went to fetch fresh water, then washed and set the rice to boil. While it was cooking, I prepared the side dishes…”

“Wait. You ran out of water midway and fetched fresh water?”

Cho Yoon set his spoon down with a sharp clack. Having never witnessed such a severe reaction—not even when he had served his master his first, clumsy attempts at cooking—Cheon-oh’s anxiety flared into sheer panic.

“Master, did I commit some sort of wrong…”

“It isn’t that. Did you happen to drink the freshly drawn water, or taste the cooked rice?”

“…No, I did not. I apologize. I should have tasted it first to ensure its quality, but placing my lips on it before serving it to you felt disrespectful, so…”

“I said, it isn’t that.”

Speaking with absolute finality, Cho Yoon rose from his seat and approached Cheon-oh.

Simultaneously, the unseen force binding the boy vanished entirely, but Cheon-oh had absolutely no desire to move. As Cheon-oh sat rigidly in his chair with lowered eyes, Cho Yoon’s hand lightly touched his shoulder.

Instantly, a wave of refreshing internal energy swept through the unresisting boy’s body, meticulously scanning every inch.

“There are no traces of poisoning. You washed the rice with your bare hands, correct? Did your skin sting at all, or did you feel any numbness in your fingertips?”

“Pardon? Yes, I felt nothing of the sort. However…”

Traces of poisoning?

Startled by the master’s touch as Cho Yoon gently grasped his hands to inspect them closely, the stiffly frozen Cheon-oh abruptly snapped his head up.

The questions regarding the rice and water, his master’s suddenly hardened expression, the frantic check for his safety… the scattered, fragmented puzzle pieces rapidly converged into a single, horrifying conclusion.

His complexion draining to a stark, ghostly white, Cheon-oh stammered. His trembling, empty hands grabbed desperately at Cho Yoon’s robes.

“W-was there poison in the water? Did I cook your rice using poisoned water?! Master, are you—are you alright after eating that?!”

He possessed absolutely no mental capacity to offer pathetic excuses claiming ignorance or a lack of intent. What mattered infinitely more was his master’s safety.

A sickening surge of self-loathing erupted violently within him; he had studied under this master for years, yet he had brazenly served him poison without noticing a single thing. In an instant, the crushing psychological blow left Cheon-oh feeling as though he could never cook again.

“Do not make a fuss. It is a poison that cannot inflict even a speck of harm upon me.”

The utterly frantic, floating remnants of Cheon-oh’s rationality were instantly pinned down by Cho Yoon’s strict command. Clamping his trembling mouth shut, Cheon-oh stared up at his master with desperate, scrutinizing eyes.

Releasing his firm grip on the boy’s shoulder, Cho Yoon turned around with his usual, perfectly calm expression and strode out of the room. 

Follow me. 

At that single, impassive command, Cheon-oh, looking as though he were on the verge of tears, scrambled after him.

Stopping by the kitchen first, Cho Yoon lifted the lid of the water jar tucked in the corner, rolled up his sleeve, and plunged his hand inside.

He stirred the surface of the water and thoroughly ran his fingers along the inside and bottom of the jar.

Finally, he stood back up, casually shook the water from his hand, and stepped outside.

Fidgeting anxiously with his clasped hands, Cheon-oh followed closely from the kitchen doorway.

Walking with long, rapid strides, Cho Yoon approached the small stream located just behind the Estate of Deep Mists.

Crystal-clear water trickled steadily from a crevice between shoulder-high rocks.

Because the water was pristine and the location incredibly convenient for drawing, this small brook had long served as a vital water source for the estate.

Arriving before it, Cheon-oh swallowed a sharp gasp.

“Gasp…”

“…”

The trees flanking the brook—which had been perfectly healthy when he drew water just a short while ago—had suddenly withered into a sickly, decaying brown.

The moss clinging to the rocks had blackened and died, plastering itself messily against the stone, and the vibrant grass that had flourished around the area was now entirely mushy and violently snapped at the stems.

Only the single stream of clear water continued to flow, burbling with the exact same pristine, innocent sound as before.

A paralyzing fear gripped Cheon-oh once more.

His master had claimed he was fine, but a poison capable of devastating the mountain like this in such a short time could not possibly be harmless. Darting his anxious gaze between his master’s back and the ruined brook, Cheon-oh’s heart hammered frantically against his ribs.

Just then, his master—who had been standing in absolute silence—reached out, gathered the trickling stream water in his palm, and drank it without a single microsecond of hesitation.

“Master!”

“I told you, I am fine.”

Having casually consumed the poisoned stream water, Cho Yoon wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Unable to bear it any longer, Cheon-oh reached out to drink the flowing water just like his master to test it himself, but Cho Yoon swiftly blocked him.

“It seems we have no choice but to head upstream. Do not even entertain the slightest thought of letting this water touch you.”

“Is it truly that severe a poison? Then why was I perfectly fine?”

“Because that is exactly how I raised you.”

Struck by the matter-of-fact reply, Cheon-oh clamped his mouth shut. Gently touching the hand his master had inspected earlier, he spoke up once more, his voice laced with unwavering determination. He absolutely refused to remain ignorant while this unfolded.

“Please grant this disciple an opportunity as well, Master. I wish to know exactly what kind of poison I dared to let enter my master’s mouth.”

“Such fuss over nothing. I merely told you not to ingest or touch it because your insides are not yet fully matured. When did I ever say I wouldn’t teach you?”

With a light, effortless leap, Cho Yoon landed softly atop the boulder where the water originated. Gazing down at Cheon-oh, he spoke.

“We will cross the mountain and head toward the Yeonpa River. Follow closely.”

“Yes, Master!”

Answering with fierce immediacy, Cheon-oh hastily scaled the boulder and chased after his master.

It was the very first day he ever stepped foot outside Mount Dumang, venturing into the deeper reaches of the Point of No Return Mountain Range.