Chapter 101

When he regained consciousness after fainting like that, it was due to chills that penetrated to his bones.

His whole body felt heavy and aching, causing involuntary groans to escape. It was the first time he had been this severely ill since childhood. He tossed and turned for a long while before finally opening his eyes. As if struck with a terrible cold, he was burning up with fever.

His limbs had no strength, leaving him limp and powerless, and cold sweat beaded on his forehead, causing his hair to stick to it. His lips, which were exhaling rapid breaths, as well as his cheeks and ears, were all flushed red. Even the corners of his eyes were filled with a red heat, as if he had been crying. Cheong-ra blinked as he tried to recall his hazy memories.

'No, this isn't just a cold...'

It seemed that Dang Ran-yeong had deceived him and fed him poison under the guise of a tonic. Even in his dizzy state, anger welled up, and as he groaned, he heard Dang Ran-yeong's voice from beside him.

"Are you awake?"

Not expecting anyone to be there, Cheong-ra's eyes widened. Dang Ran-yeong was watching him intently, resting his chin on his hand, as Cheong-ra lay ill.

"Young Master Dang...!"

Cheong-ra, flaring up, tried to sit up abruptly but ended up collapsing face-down on the bed. As he lay there, unable to even turn back over, breathing heavily, Dang Ran-yeong helped him lie down properly. Cheong-ra glared at him, panting, his fever rising just from that small movement.

"You said... it wasn't poison..."

"Beauty, when you glare like that... it looks so good, like you have no manners."

Dang Ran-yeong spoke in a coaxing voice, but his eyes were so sinister that Cheong-ra had no choice but to lower his glaring eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned again. He wished he had remained unconscious, but the chills made it difficult to sleep.

"Here, drink some water."

Seeing Cheong-ra's parched lips, Dang Ran-yeong raised his upper body and held a water bowl to his mouth. Though he suspected something might have been added to it again, Cheong-ra was so thirsty that he drank. Seeing this docile attitude, a flash of satisfaction crossed Dang Ran-yeong's eyes.

Unexpectedly, the water had a sweet taste, causing Cheong-ra to hesitate. But seeing no ill effects, it seemed honey had just been added for nutritional support. After drinking enough to quench his thirst, Cheong-ra lay back down and asked, half resigned,

"Young Master Dang... what kind of poison did you feed me to make my body like this?"

"I told you, it's a tonic."

Insisting on this to the end, Dang Ran-yeong grabbed his wrist. Cheong-ra flinched at how cool the other's fingers felt.

"Now, stop talking and stay still."

Dang Ran-yeong ordered and checked his pulse. It wasn't just a simple pulse check. It was a thorough examination, flowing his own energy to scrutinize even the minute pulses. As Dang Ran-yeong's energy flowed into every part of his body, Cheong-ra felt a very strange sensation.

Even after this pulse examination, Dang Ran-yeong didn't leave but kept watch. Exhausted by the painful heat and chills, Cheong-ra drifted in and out of sleep. With only a slight cold sweat on his forehead and no sweating from his body, it was even more difficult.

Even as he panted, his breath catching in his throat, Dang Ran-yeong's eyes showed no guilt or even a hint of sympathy. He merely watched, occasionally giving him water to drink. No, he wasn't just watching.

He was clearly voyeuristically observing Cheong-ra.

His gaze slowly traced over Cheong-ra's unusually disheveled appearance. He blatantly appreciated how his lips, busy exhaling rapid breaths due to the fever, became moist then dry, how damp, hot moisture spread around his eyes, and how his body writhed.

Cheong-ra momentarily suspected that what he had consumed might not be poison disguised as a tonic, but an aphrodisiac. Enjoying his suffering after feeding him poison - the other was truly a born sadist.

And Cheong-ra wasn't particularly displeased that the other was enjoying his suffering. Rather, he tried to hide his inner feelings of being pleased that the other desired him. Given this, he had no right to deny that his own disposition was truly perverse.

Soon, Cheong-ra became completely exhausted and went limp. Now he was just curious about when this drug's effects would wear off.

Dang Ran-yeong checked Cheong-ra's pulse very carefully several times. His brow was furrowed, but even when asked why he was examining his body so closely, no answer came. After five or six pulse checks, Dang Ran-yeong clicked his tongue, seemingly having failed. Then, in a voice feigning pity, he took out a pill from his bosom and said,

"Beauty, you really have bad luck..."

Cheong-ra wanted to ask what about him was unlucky, but as soon as he swallowed the pill that entered his mouth, a heavy sleep overcame him. In his fading consciousness, he felt a cold hand slowly stroking his hair away from his forehead. The pain in his heavy, dull body and his labored breathing subsided as deep sleep came.

When he woke up again, Dang Ran-yeong was gone. Instead, his body felt refreshed, as if he had taken a truly nourishing medicine. Cheong-ra got up and examined his body while circulating his energy, but it wasn't much different from usual.

What had Dang Ran-yeong fed him, and what had he been trying to confirm? The image of him repeatedly checking his pulse so carefully lingered in his mind. Cheong-ra couldn't shake the feeling that the other was hiding something very important from him.

***

After suffering so severely from consuming something that might have been a tonic or poison, Cheong-ra couldn't stand it anymore. His physical condition wasn't bad, and there was still time until the World's Greatest Beauty Contest, so he put on the most worn-out clothes he had.

"Devotee Baek, how are you feeling?"

Seeing Nam Gang-ryong, who looked much worse off than himself, Cheong-ra felt both pity and a sense of guilt.

"I'm fine, Monk Gang-ryong. You, on the other hand, look really unwell."

"Haha, what are you saying? A strong body is all this humble monk has."

Even as he said this, Nam Gang-ryong's expression was filled with resentment towards Dang Ran-yeong. It seemed he had suffered as much as Cheong-ra throughout the night. Speaking with his teeth clenched, chanting Buddha's name, he suddenly noticed Cheong-ra's attire and tilted his head.

"But Devotee Baek, your clothes seem different from usual."

"Yes, I have some physical work to do."

What Cheong-ra was wearing were clothes that had become too damaged to wear anymore during battles. He had tied up the sleeves tightly with cloth strips and tied his hair up high. In his hands, he held a bucket, rags, and a brush he had found after searching the storage.

He went straight into the room where he was staying. Although the servants had cleaned diligently in their own way, it hadn't been satisfactory to his eyes. He had been enduring it as a guest, but now he couldn't stand it anymore.

Cheong-ra filled the bucket with water and scrubbed the floor with a rag until it made squeaking sounds. A servant, who had rushed over upon hearing that a guest was cleaning, fidgeted anxiously and pleaded for Cheong-ra to let him do such work. Cheong-ra refused with a gentle smile.

"Ah, it's fine. I'm not doing this because it's dirty. I just have nothing else to do."

He scrubbed the walls all around, polished the wooden pillars and furniture until they shone. He dusted the window frames clean with a brush and even pulled out and cleaned the insides of drawers. He also performed detailed tasks such as removing dust from the rafters, cleaning the ceiling of years of grime, cleaning under furniture, polishing floor scratches, cleaning the insides of lanterns, and leveling the soil in flowerpots.

In no time, Cheong-ra's room was gleaming from all sides and filled with a pleasant fragrance. Even the head steward who managed the mansion rushed over upon hearing this news, watched anxiously, and then fell to his knees with a pale face, but Cheong-ra was not satisfied.

The cleaning urge and depression he had been suppressing while traveling with Dang Ran-yeong had burst out all at once, and he couldn't contain it anymore. Cheong-ra approached Nam Gang-ryong, who had been blankly watching him clean. The defrocked monk flinched and stepped back slightly when their eyes met. It was a reaction his friend Ju Mu-gwang often showed.

"Monk Gang-ryong! You seem to lack energy, so I'll clean for you instead."

"Ah, no. Devotee Baek, my room is very clean..."

"I'm just doing this because I have nothing else to do, so don't refuse. It's my little hobby."

Nam Gang-ryong muttered, "Little hobby?" after seeing Cheong-ra thoroughly clean his own room, but pretended not to hear.

The head steward begged and pleaded for Cheong-ra to let them do the cleaning. However, Cheong-ra ignored him and neatly cleaned Nam Gang-ryong's room. As Cheong-ra felt somewhat relieved, something lingered in his mind. It was Dang Ran-yeong's messy room.

'No, no matter what, I can't just enter the owner's room without permission.'

He thought this and gave up, entering his own perfectly cleaned room. However, less than an hour later, he suddenly got up. 'Then, can't I go in and clean when the owner is there?'