My Life as a Rebel Apothecary

Haejun was already reaching for powdered root when the guards took his name from him in front of the whole hall. He kept his face still, but his hand shook once inside his sleeve. That was the problem with being an apothecary in a cruel court. He could ease a fever, stop bleeding, or kill a man without ever drawing steel, and everyone knew it. When a blurred photograph and a borrowed jade pendant fall into his care, Haejun starts noticing who pays for medicine, who lies about pain, and who wants his skill turned into a weapon. The worst part is that he understands the price of saying no. The person who once trusted him most has already sold his name once.