Chapter 14: Physician and Neighbor

Nobody moved.

Yeon-hee on the floor with her dumplings. Ayla in the doorway with her wine. Me in the middle with my mouth open like a fish.

In my last life, I’d seen this exact situation in about a thousand dramas. Two women. One guy. Somebody slaps somebody. Somebody cries. Somebody throws a drink.

I braced for the drink.

"Those smell good," Ayla said.

Yeon-hee blinked. Looked down at her bundle. "...Pork and chive."

"I have wine." Ayla lifted the jug. "Plum. Very strong. From the cellar of my stupid husband."

They looked at each other for a long second.

Then Yeon-hee stood up, brushed off her robe, and held out the dumplings.

And Ayla stepped aside and let her in.

Into HER room.

Both of them walked in. The door started to slide shut. Then Ayla’s hand came back out, grabbed my collar, and yanked me in after them.

"You too," she said. "You are the topic."

Oh no.

Ayla’s room was even messier than this morning. Sheets torn half off the bed. Her carpet still had a damp patch from the tub. My second-best robe was hanging from her sword rack like a flag of surrender.

Yeon-hee looked at the bed. At the carpet. At my robe.

Then at Ayla.

"This morning?" she asked.

"And yesterday afternoon," Ayla said, pouring three cups. "You?"

"Back stairs. Hot spring." Yeon-hee took a cup. "And I gave him a physical."

"Ah. Physical." Ayla nodded like that was a very serious medical term. "I hear the stool break last night. That was you?"

"No." Yeon-hee sipped. "That was the Gwak widow."

Ayla choked on her wine.

"The STRICT one? With the glass eyes?"

"Spectacles."

"With the spectacles!" Ayla turned and stared at me. "Mu-jin. She looks like she punishes children for breathing."

"She’s... nicer than she looks."

Both of them looked at me. The exact same look.

I drank my wine.

And then, for the next half hour, I sat on the edge of Ayla’s bed and listened to the two of them compare notes. Out loud. In front of me. Like I was a horse at the market.

"He’s slow in the beginning," Yeon-hee said. "Very gentle. Asks a lot of questions."

"Mm. With me, not slow. With me, he pins the wrists."

"He does?" Yeon-hee turned to me, offended. "You never pinned MY wrists."

"You were scared of the dark!"

"I’m not scared of the dark NOW."

Ayla laughed so hard she had to grab the bedpost. "I like her," she told me, wiping her eyes. "Physician. I like you."

"I like you too," Yeon-hee said, and refilled her cup. Then mine. Then hers again. Her cheeks were already pink. She was a lightweight. Of course she was a lightweight.

"In my country," Ayla said, "when two women want the same horse, they fight."

"With swords?" Yeon-hee asked.

"Sometimes." Ayla shrugged. "Sometimes they just share the horse. Is cheaper."

The room went quiet.

Yeon-hee looked at Ayla.

Ayla looked at Yeon-hee.

Neither of them looked at me.

Again.

[Target: Dam Yeon-hee.] [Desire — MAXIMUM.]

[Target: Ayla.] [Desire — MAXIMUM.]

Both windows popped up at the same time and just... stayed there. Glowing. Like the system was leaning forward in its seat.

Yeah, me too, system.

"I’ve never..." Yeon-hee started. She stopped. Turned bright red. "With another woman in the room. I’ve never."

"Me also never," Ayla said. Then she grinned. "This morning, the bookkeeper stood by the door and counted. I liked it very much."

Yeon-hee’s eyes went huge. "Seo-rin unni WATCHED?"

"With the little beads. Clack. Clack."

"Oh my gods." Yeon-hee covered her face. Then she peeked through her fingers. "...Did she write it down?"

"Probably."

Yeon-hee lowered her hands. Took a long breath. Drank the rest of her cup in one go. Set it down very carefully on the floor.

Then she looked at me. And there it was. The doctor look. Calm. Clinical. Deciding.

"Physician’s orders," she said. "Shirt off."

Ayla whooped.

I’m going to tell you exactly one thing about that night.

At one point I was lying on my back in the middle of Ayla’s wrecked bed, and Yeon-hee had my wrist in one hand, counting my pulse out loud, while Ayla had my other wrist pinned to the mattress with her knee.

"Too fast," Yeon-hee said, very serious. "Much too fast. Dangerous."

"Good," said Ayla.

And then they both started laughing, and then they both stopped laughing, and I’m keeping everything after that for myself.

But I’ll tell you the system wouldn’t shut up.

[Harmony active: Dam Yeon-hee.]

[Harmony active: Ayla.]

[Dual Harmony detected.]

[Yin streams converging...]

Warm water and desert wind, hitting my dantian at the same time from two sides, swirling into each other. Steam. Like the hot spring, but inside me. So hot I thought I’d crack open.

I almost blacked out.

In a good way.

I don’t know what time it was when it was finally over.

Late. The lanterns outside had burned down. The three of us were crammed into a bed meant for one and a half people. Ayla was on my left, snoring with her face in my armpit. Yeon-hee was on my right with her head on my chest, drawing little circles on my stomach with one finger, the same way Ayla always did.

"Mu-jin," she whispered.

"Mm."

"Your pulse." She pressed two fingers to my wrist. Counted. Frowned. "It’s... very strong. Stronger than this morning. Stronger than yesterday." She looked up at me. "It’s not normal. People don’t get stronger from... this. They get tired."

"I’m tired."

"You’re tired AND stronger. That’s what’s not normal."

I didn’t say anything.

She watched my face for a long time. Then she put her head back down.

"I’m not going to ask," she said. "Physicians know when not to ask."

"Thanks."

"But if something’s wrong with you, I’m the first one you tell. Promise."

"Promise."

She was asleep thirty seconds later.

I lay there between them and looked at the window. It was still floating there, quiet, glowing soft blue in the dark.

[Refinement: Dam Yeon-hee — 11%.]

[Refinement: Ayla — 9%.]

[Refinement: Gwak Ji-yeon — 2%.]

Eleven. Nine. Two.

It was going up even while I slept. Two women at once pushed it way faster than one.

Not hero stuff. Not "save the Central Plains" stuff. Just... enough. Enough that maybe next time Instructor Cha threw me on my back, I’d last two seconds instead of one.

Enough that maybe the next angry husband wouldn’t fold me like laundry.

That’s all I wanted. Stay alive. Stay in this bed. Keep doing exactly this.

I closed my eyes.

And that’s when I heard it.

A little scrape. At the door.

I lifted my head.

A folded slip of paper had been pushed under Ayla’s door. Very neat. Very straight. Perfectly creased.

I slid out from between them — slowly, carefully, Ayla grumbling in her sleep — and picked it up.

The handwriting was small and sharp, every stroke exactly the same width. Like a ledger entry.

Tomorrow. After the night bell. My room, second floor, west end.

Bring nothing.

Wear less.

Interest has accrued.

— H.S.

I stood there in the dark, naked, holding the note, between two sleeping women.

Then, very faintly, from somewhere down on the second floor—

Clack.