Episode 110: Guangdong Province

With a plague spreading, wandering aimlessly around Guangdong was not an option. Tang Mujin and his companions decided to stay in the city of Qingyuan, listening to the locals’ stories.

Most people in Qingyuan had never heard of the mysterious healer, but occasionally, someone claimed to have encountered him.

“The healer? Yeah, I met him once. I had a wound on my foot that got infected, and my whole leg was throbbing. He treated it for me.”

“What kind of treatment did he use?”

“Let me think… He gave me some dried herbs, washed some seaweed in well water, and applied it to the wound and the swollen skin. Oh, and he told me to eat dishes with lots of ginger.”

“He didn’t give you any herbal decoctions or ointments?”

“No, nothing like that.”

”…Did it work?”

“Yeah, it was pretty effective. By the next evening, it felt better, and it cleared up in less than three days.”

Tang Mujin raised an eyebrow skeptically.

It was a relief that it worked, but that wasn’t the method of a trained physician. Handing out dried herbs and using seaweed in such a way was unconventional.

Not everyone who met the so-called healer had positive results, though.

“I met him too. He was a nasty piece of work. I had high hopes since he was supposed to be a famous healer, but his treatment didn’t do much for me.”

“Hmm.”

“But he wasn’t all bad.”

“Didn’t you say it didn’t work?”

“When I complained, he refunded me without a fuss. For a quack, that’s not too bad.”

They met several more people who claimed to know the fake healer. Half said he was somewhat helpful, while the other half said he wasn’t much use.

Clearly, he wasn’t particularly skilled.

Then, a middle-aged man erupted in anger at the mention of the healer’s name.

“What? You know that scoundrel?”

“No, we’re just looking for him.”

“Is that so? Too bad. If I ever catch him, I’ll smash his head with a sickle.”

“What happened?”

The man fumed as he recounted his story.

“That bastard stole a lacquered bronze mirror I gave my eldest daughter and sold it!”

This unexpected tale had nothing to do with healing. Tang Mujin asked for more details.

“When my daughter got married to a village over the hill, I bought her a bronze mirror as a gift. I was worried sick when I heard the plague had spread to her village. Then, recently, I found that very mirror. When I asked the merchant where he got it, he said he bought it from that healer.”

“Could it just be a similar item?”

“Do you think lacquered bronze mirrors are common? I picked it out myself. There’s no mistaking it.”

“I see.”

“Anyway, if I ever run into that bastard…”

The man continued to spew curses, then added as if he just remembered, “I’m not the only one. There are others with similar stories. Ask those folks over there.”

Tang Mujin and his companions approached the people the man pointed out and heard similar stories. Items given to others, familiar belongings from neighbors, or things left behind in the chaos were found through various means, all linked to the healer. People were furious.

“He pretends to be a healer, but he’s just a thief. He steals from empty homes or the deceased and sells their belongings. I hope he catches the plague or gets stabbed. But scoundrels like him always seem to live long.”

Tang Mujin returned to those who had met the healer, asking where they had seen him. Most sightings were reported near Dongguan, a few days’ journey south from here.

Namgung Myung asked Tang Mujin, “Are we heading to Dongguan?”

“Yes, we are.”

“What about the plague?”

Martial artists are generally resistant to illness. Namgung Myung was far beyond an average martial artist, and Tang Mujin, with his high martial prowess and poison techniques, wasn’t afraid of the plague.

The concern was Dan Seol-young. She had only learned basic internal energy techniques and agility skills, making her just a bit healthier than an average person.

Sensing Tang Mujin’s thoughts, Dan Seol-young quickly interjected, “I’ll be fine. I’ve never been prone to illness since I was a child.”

“But there’s no guarantee it’ll stay that way.”

“So, are you planning to leave me behind? At least pretend to think it over.”

Dan Seol-young wasn’t someone who let pride or stubbornness get in the way. If she understood the reasoning, she would comply, even if she didn’t like the outcome.

Because of this, Tang Mujin thought even more carefully.

There are various ways a plague can spread: through direct contact, contaminated water, or even animals.

However, from what the locals said, those living in isolation, like herbalists or hunters, weren’t getting sick.

The disease had spread across villages using different water sources, suggesting it was transmitted through human contact.

‘If that’s the case, we might manage.’

Even if something went wrong, Tang Mujin could dispel minor evil energies. He also wanted to keep Dan Seol-young close.

Tang Mujin advised Dan Seol-young, “Let’s stick together for now. But don’t do anything I tell you not to, and if you feel even slightly unwell, tell me immediately. Understood?”

Dan Seol-young nodded eagerly.

The three of them headed south. After about a day, they encountered some low-ranking officials blocking the path.

“Who are you?”

“We’re looking for someone.”

“I don’t care about your business. Are you planning to pass through here?”

“Yes, we are.”

“You can go in, but once you’re in, you can’t come out. Even if you don’t catch the plague, begging to be let out won’t help. Got it?”

“Understood.”

Of course, Tang Mujin and his companions weren’t concerned at all.

The vast land of Guangdong couldn’t be completely sealed off by officials, and for martial artists like Tang Mujin or Namgung Myung, it was easy to move undetected past them.

The officials seemed to know this, as their tone was oddly perfunctory.

The group continued south. While there were fewer people, the atmosphere hadn’t changed much.

Especially the farmers, who seemed to be everywhere. It was as if none had left their homes.

If it were spring or summer, it might be different, but now it was autumn, with the rice stalks heavy and golden.

Farmers wouldn’t leave their fields at such a time. They’d rather die than leave their crops unharvested.

The farmers’ expressions were no different from usual. They merely wondered why strangers were wandering around at this time. There were no signs of illness.

However, after three more days of traveling south, the atmosphere began to shift.

The rice was ripe, but there were no farmers in the fields. It was eerily quiet.

Namgung Myung entered a nearby village and returned with a grimace.

“I can’t go in there.”

“Why not?”

“There are no living people. Just bodies inside the houses, and the stench of decay is overwhelming. I can feel a strong presence of evil energy.”

Yet outside the village, there was no trace of such energy. It seemed the disease only spread among people.

The three passed through several more villages, but the situation was the same.

The villages were filled with those beyond help and the dead.

As the late afternoon sun began to set, Tang Mujin and his companions set up camp a little distance from a village.

“Camping out when there’s a village right there feels strange.”

“Better than sleeping next to corpses.”

Occasionally, people passed by their campsite. From their appearance, it was clear they were bandits. The chaos seemed to have emboldened them, as they made no effort to hide.

However, the bandits merely glanced at Tang Mujin’s group and moved on without interest.

“Those guys don’t seem interested in a fight.”

“Why not? Don’t bandits usually check out campfires?”

“There are plenty of empty houses and villages to loot. Why bother fighting living people? Look, most of them aren’t even carrying weapons.”

“You’re right.”

Several groups of bandits passed by.

Namgung Myung and Dan Seol-young eventually lost interest in them, but Tang Mujin watched each group carefully.

‘The fake healer is said to steal from the dead and sell their belongings. It wouldn’t be surprising if he moved with bandits.’

As the sun began to set, a small group of bandits caught Tang Mujin’s attention.

There were only six or seven of them, but one carried a large pack.

It was unusual for a bandit to carry such a burden, but it wasn’t the pack that caught Tang Mujin’s eye—it was the man’s gait. He walked with a noticeable limp.

The description from Bukdowee came to mind.

‘His face was heavily pockmarked, his expression fierce, and his complexion poor. He seemed to limp a bit… I could see why they called him a monster.’

The distance made it hard to see his face, but a limping bandit was a rare sight.

Bandits typically wouldn’t accept someone with a limp, and if they became lame, they’d usually settle in a village under a false identity.

When Dang Mujin suddenly stood up, Dan Seolyeong asked, “Where are you going?”

“One of those bandits has a limp. He might be a fake Gwai.”

Namgung Myeong, still seated but visibly tense, offered a word of caution. “Be careful, Dang Mujin.”

“Why?”

“Why? You’re top-tier, aren’t you? It’s when you need to be most cautious.”

“Don’t talk nonsense. I thought there was a real problem.”

“If being top-tier isn’t the issue, then what is?”

“Enough already.”

Dang Mujin shook his fist at Namgung Myeong and then strode purposefully toward the bandits.

The setting sun cast a long shadow behind him, and the bandits spotted him from a fair distance away.

As Dang Mujin approached, the bandits, sensing danger, drew their weapons. One of them shouted from afar, “Who are you?”

“I have some questions.”

Dang Mujin continued forward, scrutinizing the limping man’s face. The scar described by Bukdowee was unmistakably there.

His attire was surprisingly refined for a bandit, and he wore a sword at his waist that resembled the one Gwai used to wield. Even the graying hair at his temples was reminiscent of Gwai.

It was clear he was imitating Gwai’s distinctive features. However, everything else was different—his face was harsh and mean, his build slightly smaller, and his posture a bit hunched.

“Don’t come any closer. Speak from there.”

“Understood. The man with the large pack on his back—are you a doctor by any chance? You resemble a famous physician I’ve heard about…”

At Dang Mujin’s question, a hint of confidence returned to the bandits’ faces.

“Yes! This is the renowned master and healer, Gwai Lee Choong.”

Dang Mujin grinned fiercely and launched himself at the bandits.

His movements were swift and unwavering, like an arrow in flight.

Dang Mujin weaved through the bandits with ease. Their clumsy attempts to strike him were futile.

He grabbed the man claiming to be Gwai Lee Choong by the back of the head and slammed his face into the dirt.

Rage burned in Dang Mujin’s eyes.

“Tell me again. Who do you say you are?”