Urgent voices echoed from inside the tent—Eumbong’s voice, out of breath, asking in a panic.
Peeking inside, I saw Gungbong gasping for air, his face flushed crimson.
Sweat clung to his forehead and chin, his whole face slick. It was clear he had a high fever.
And then—cutting through the cold morning air—came Eumbong’s sharp voice, like a blade tearing through the silence:
“Dok-hwa!”
This was the women's tent.
I had only come to help fold it up, while Eumbong had come to wake Gungbong, who hadn’t stirred even though breakfast was ready. But seeing his state, she immediately called for Hwa-eun.
I stepped in closer and checked on him myself—Gungbong was breathing heavily, unable even to open his eyes.
He was definitely in ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) bad shape.
Looks like a high fever. Could it be the flu or exhaustion?
Just looking at him, it seemed like some kind of severe cold or fever.
We’d come from the subtropical northeast of India into much chillier morning and evening temperatures—probably enough to cause a flu or fever.
Hearing Eumbong’s call, Hwa-eun appeared behind me and asked urgently,
“What’s wrong, Eumbong?”
“It’s Gungbong! He’s not well. Please take a look!”
I stepped aside and let Hwa-eun in. She knelt down and began examining Gungbong’s condition.
“He’s burning up and covered in cold sweat... It looks like a bad case of Wind Fever Syndrome.”
Wind Fever Syndrome—a Central Plains term for what we’d call the flu.
As someone most knowledgeable in our group about human health, Hwa-eun’s diagnosis matched mine: a severe cold or flu.
It wasn’t a difficult diagnosis to make. Soon, voices gathered outside the tent.
“What’s going on, Dok-hwa? Why did Eumbong sound so panicked?”
“What happened, Hwa-eun?”
“Is something wrong? Eumbong, what’s going on?”
“Gungbong wasn’t waking up this morning, so I came to get him, but...”
“Gungbong?”
Looking back, I saw the rest of our group—who had been seated around the campfire prepping breakfast—now standing outside the tent.
My older brother, Hu-gae, Tenzin, Master Jaheo... even the children, who had stayed tucked inside their tents to avoid the cold morning, had come over.
– Kissit?
– Tsrrr. 『What’s going on?』
– Kkuu. 『That weird lady seems sick or something.』
– Tsrr. 『Wasn’t she always mentally sick anyway?』
Apparently, Eumbong’s call had pulled everyone in.
Hwa-eun turned and responded, “Gungbong seems to be seriously ill.”
“Gungbong’s sick?”
“Yes, sister. Looks like Wind Fever Syndrome.”
“Wind Fever Syndrome?”
Everyone began exchanging uncertain glances.
Martial artists rarely get sick with things like colds.
But “rarely” doesn’t mean “never.” Eventually, everyone nodded in agreement.
Even with training, it’s possible to catch a cold. And really, on trips like these, it’s always the most eccentric member of the group who ends up getting sick and causing trouble.
That it was Gungbong? No surprise. You could see it on everyone’s faces: Yeah... figures.
“Maybe it’s the sudden change in climate?”
“These long journeys wear down the body, especially for women, even if they know martial arts...”
“Dok-hwa, is she in bad shape? What should we do?”
That final question came from Ji-ryong.
But it carried two meanings—Can we continue our journey? and How serious is Gungbong’s condition?
To that, Hwa-eun placed her hand on Gungbong’s forehead again and then asked Tenzin,
“Tenzin, is this a safe area to rest?”
“Yes, Lady Hwa-eun. We’re already deep into the mountain range. The Muslims won’t come this far.”
“In that case, we should stay here until Gungbong is mobile again. Her fever is way too high for travel.”
Her conclusion was firm: we had to stay put for a few days.
With that, my older brother nodded and said,
“Then let’s re-pitch the tents. We’ll need to stay here a while longer.”
“After breakfast, we’ll set them up again.”
“I’ll help, Do-ryong.”
The men had already taken down the tents after sunrise to prepare breakfast, but now we had to put them back up.
As we discussed setting up camp again, Ji-ryong asked Hwa-eun,
“If we want her to recover quickly, we should gather some herbs. Dok-hwa, what should we be looking for?”
He meant to brew a decoction from medicinal herbs. Hwa-eun thought for a moment and replied,
“Look for Gilgyeong—balloon flower root. It’s not as effective without licorice root, but it’s still better than nothing.”
Gilgyeong—that’s balloon flower, or Platycodon.
She’d asked for one of the most common medicinal roots available.
Harder-to-find herbs might be unknown to some, but everyone knew what a balloon flower looked like.
I remembered something I once read online in my past life: balloon flower root, like ginseng, is rich in saponins.
Saponins are great for restoring energy and easing fatigue—ideal for someone with a bad flu.
“Understood. Then let’s skip breakfast and head out to find some gilgyeong.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“Me too.”
People sprang into action immediately.
Gungbong’s body was burning up, and none of us had the heart to sit down for a meal while she suffered. Everyone prioritized finding herbs.
Whatever her quirks and annoyances, Gungbong had been the one to keep us fed throughout this journey.
“Let’s split up and meet back here at midday.”
“Got it.”
“Sounds good.”
Ji-ryong, my brother, Eumbong, her sister-in-law, and Geolgae all packed some jerky and spread out.
I couldn’t just sit around either, so I asked Yo-hwa for a favor.
“Yo-hwa, can you make me a water pouch?”
– Kisshishi.
Yo-hwa crafted one quickly. I filled it with melted snow runoff from the Himalayas and brought it over to Hwa-eun and Sister Seol, who were tending to Gungbong.
“Hwa-eun, here. Try placing this on her forehead—it might help bring the fever down.”
“Got it, So-ryong.”
“I’ll go search for gilgyeong too.”
“Be careful.”
And with that, I soared into the sky with Cho at my side.
“Let’s go, Cho!”
– Tsrrr. 『Okay, Dad!』
***
“It’s ridiculous. In Korea, balloon flowers grow all over the mountains. Why the hell are they so hard to find here?”
– Tssrrt. 『Korea?』
“Oh... I mean, they’re just common on the mountains where I’m from.”
I’d searched for quite a while with no luck. Eventually, Cho and I had to move down toward the foot of the mountain range to keep looking.
In my past life, I remembered that balloon flowers usually grew on lower mountains. That’s what brought me down here.
And sure enough, just beyond the edge of the range—there they were.
A whole patch of white flowers in full bloom on a sunny cliffside caught my eye.
“Cho, let’s head that way.”
– Tsrrr. 『Got it, Dad.』
As we got closer, I saw it was indeed white balloon flower—white gilgyeong.
Normally, balloon flowers bloom blue. This was the rarer, white variety.
“Oh-ho! Found it. Gilgyeong.”
I cleared the moss from the cliff and pulled out a few stems, the roots coming up with a satisfying tug—thick and hefty, about the size of a grown man's fist.
“Two or three of these should be enough.”
Since they were growing on a steep cliff untouched by human hands, the roots were pristine and robust. Definitely more than enough for medicine.
After carefully harvesting only what I needed and getting ready to return, I spotted something else blooming just above the cliff: flowers I recognized.
“Wait a sec... lilies?”
I hadn’t noticed them coming down, but now I saw it clearly: a patch of wild lilies in bloom under the trees on the cliff above.
It reminded me of that time during the Sandan incident when we’d roasted wild lilies. Everyone had gotten sick of jerky and meat—those wild lily roots had tasted like a cross between sweet potato and potato.
“Perfect. The others will love this. Let’s go, Cho.”
– Tsrrr. 『Okay, Dad.』
We headed back to camp, Cho curled around me mid-flight.
When I returned, only my brother and his wife had made it back.
His wife was already at the stream, washing some roots—it looked like they’d found some gilgyeong too, though not nearly as much as I had.
“Brother!”
“Oh, hey there, So-ryong. You found gilgyeong too?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And what’s this?”
“Oh, I picked some lilies too. Thought they’d taste good roasted.”
He took the balloon flower roots I handed him, then spotted the lilies I was holding.
Right as I explained what they were, Hwa-eun appeared with a water pouch, her eyes lighting up.
“So-ryong, you found lilies?”
“Yes, Hwa-eun. Their roots taste great when roasted.”
I grinned and shook the lilies excitedly. She smiled and gave me an approving nod.
“The root of the lily is also good for Wind Fever Syndrome. This will help Gungbong recover faster. Good work, So-ryong.”
“Oh, really? That’s great, then.”
Apparently, lily roots were good for treating flu-like illnesses too.
Maybe I really was blessed with dumb luck—no matter what I pull from the ground, it turns out to be medicinal.
Seriously, I could probably yank up any old weed and it’d be an herb...
“Well then, let’s get them prepped and start brewing a decoction.”
“Of course, So-ryong.”
“Master So!”
“Hu-gae, welcome back!”
Just as I started cleaning the lilies, the others began arriving back at camp.
First was Hu-gae. He dropped to a crouch on a nearby rock and chugged cold water straight from the stream.
“Phew... gods, I’m exhausted.”
“You didn’t find any gilgyeong?”
I wasn’t scolding—just trying to confirm what he had. Since he went out looking, it made sense to ask first.
He held nothing in his hands.
But when I asked if he’d come up empty, he grinned and pulled out a bundle of green leaves from his robe.
“I couldn’t find gilgyeong, but I did find Mountain Garlic.”
“Mountain Garlic?”
“Also known as mountain garlic.”
Ohh... so that’s what Mountain Garlic is.
Wait—that’s what we call Wild Garlic, right?
I’d definitely seen it before. It was Wild Garlic, known for its strong garlic aroma and flavor.
I didn’t know whether it helped with colds, but garlic in general was well known to support the immune system.
Just as I was thinking it might be useful, Hwa-eun lit up.
“Mountain Garlic is also excellent for Wind Fever Syndrome. Good job, Hu-gae.”
“Heh. In that case, I deserve a bowl of that cold porridge.”
He handed off his leafy bundle and immediately made a beeline for the pot of porridge, which had long gone cold.
After him, the rest of the group trickled in—some empty-handed, all apologetic.
They joined Hu-gae around the pot, while my sister-in-law helped prep the herbs. Soon, the herbs we had gathered were simmering over the fire.
– Bubble, bubble...
We’d put in every herb we knew that helped with colds.
Unfortunately, it smelled awful.
***
Gungbong remained unconscious for three full days.
The fever didn’t break, and she didn’t wake up, worrying everyone. But on the fourth day, she snapped out of it as if nothing had happened.
By the fifth day, she was well enough that we resumed our journey to Podarlap Palace after breakfast.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yes, I-I’m fine.”
“If you feel unwell, let us know right away.”
“Of course.”
Even though we were moving again, we decided not to push too hard that day.
She’d been burning up with fever for days—there was no point in rushing things.
Still, just to be safe, I sent a mental message to Hwanji and Hwana:
Hwanji, Hwana... if Gungbong gets too tired, would you let her ride for a bit? I know you’re not fans, but... she’s been sick.
They both slowed their pace and drifted closer to Gungbong, eyeing her warily with reluctant expressions.
– Shuaa. 『We’re not thrilled about it... but okay, So-ryong.』
– Shiaa. 『We’ll let her ride if she needs it, since she’s sick. Just this once, So-ryong.』
They clearly weren’t happy about it, but they’d agreed to tolerate her presence this time.
Then suddenly—
“N-no, it’s fine! I can walk! Really!”
Gungbong flinched and backed away, shaking her head wildly.
This was the same woman who’d been begging to ride them before—and now she was flat-out refusing.
Now that I thought about it... she had been keeping her distance, walking well behind me and the spirit beasts, staying at the far edge of the group.
And right then, a realization struck me:
She understood them.
Huh? Wait a minute... what the hell?
