Episode 153: Two Villages
The next day, they arrived at Sangshin Village, a place that was the complete opposite of Hashin Village in every way.
“Now I see why the merchants told us to come here.”
“Exactly.”
Unlike Hashin Village, where Tang Mujin and his companions were the only outsiders, Sangshin Village was bustling with merchants leading mules and donkeys, and there were plenty of peddlers traveling alone.
The village itself was at least five times larger than Hashin Village. It was more of a city than a village.
The people here seemed relaxed, and even the street dogs were well-fed, their ribs not showing.
The dogs, confident that no one would harm them, dozed peacefully in the sunny spots, a sight that was pleasing to the eye.
Though it was a bit early for a meal, the aroma of food wafted through the air.
Hong Geolgae clutched his stomach, feeling the pangs of hunger. The three of them hadn’t eaten since their last meal in Hashin Village the day before.
“Let’s head straight to an inn.”
“No, let’s wait a bit longer.”
Namgung Myung strolled leisurely through Sangshin Village, as if searching for something. Wide streets, narrow alleys.
But even after wandering for nearly an hour, Namgung Myung found nothing.
He grumbled, “I thought there’d be at least a pickpocket or two, but there’s nothing.”
“Maybe it’s because the village is well-off. It’s a good thing.”
“Good? It’s boring.”
“You find the strangest things to miss.”
When people have enough, their hearts are at ease, and such people don’t resort to petty crimes like thievery.
Whether their prosperity led to their peace of mind, or their peace of mind led to their prosperity, who can say? But one thing was clear: Sangshin Village was thriving, while Hashin Village seemed trapped in a vicious cycle.
The three of them entered the largest inn in Sangshin Village and ordered a meal.
Just like in Hashin Village, they ordered a dumpling and three bowls of noodles. But the taste was worlds apart.
The noodles had bits of meat, and the dumplings were rich and tender, unlike the dry ones in Hashin Village. They seemed to use better ingredients, yet the price was about the same.
“Mujin, order another dumpling.”
“Sure.”
As Tang Mujin ordered another dumpling at Hong Geolgae’s request, he pondered.
Ordering food directly isn’t begging. But is asking someone else to order for you considered begging?
Tang Mujin wrestled with this thought but couldn’t find an easy answer.
While waiting for the dumpling, he glanced around the inn.
He noticed a server limping slightly, a frown on his face.
When Tang Mujin gestured to him, the server approached slowly.
“How can I help you?”
“I’m not ordering food. Is your leg bothering you?”
The server’s expression soured at the unexpected question. Pain often makes one irritable.
“It’s just a bit sore.”
“May I take a look?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I’m a physician. I can’t ignore a patient when I see one.”
At the mention of being a physician, the server’s face brightened with a glimmer of hope.
“But I can’t afford any medicine…”
“Don’t worry about the cost. I just want to take a look.”
The server hesitated, then rolled up his pant leg.
His skin was redder than usual, and his legs were swollen.
“It’s edema. Fortunately, it’s not too severe. Stretch your leg this way.”
Tang Mujin began massaging the server’s leg, starting from the right thigh. The leg was tense, and warmer than normal.
After a while, Tang Mujin discreetly inserted acupuncture needles.
The server only realized what had happened after three needles were already in place.
Behind them, Hong Geolgae whispered to Namgung Myung.
“Why’s he rushing with the needles? He didn’t used to be like this.”
“Old habits die hard. He’s used to using needles to kill.”
Tang Mujin gently rotated the server’s ankle. The server let out a contented sigh, like someone warming themselves by a fire in winter.
The unusual sight of a physician treating a patient in an inn drew the attention of other patrons and even the innkeeper.
After a short while, Tang Mujin released the server’s foot and spoke.
“Feeling better?”
“Yes.”
The server compared his treated right leg to the untreated left one.
Though the treatment was brief, the redness had faded significantly, and the swelling had noticeably reduced.
The merchants, witnessing such immediate results, were visibly impressed.
Once Tang Mujin finished treating the left leg as well, the server stood up without wincing.
“Remarkable. I’ve suffered for months, and now I’m fine in less than half an hour.”
“It’s not a complete cure. If you continue as you have, the symptoms will worsen. Massage your legs regularly, take breaks even when busy, wear looser pants, and find softer shoes.”
“Is that all?”
“If the pain persists after a month, visit a nearby physician and ask for Oryeongsan. It should only cost about twenty coins.”
Tang Mujin didn’t have any medicine with him, as he was there to take lives, not save them.
But it was just as well. Leaving work for the local physicians was a good thing.
The server stood up and tested his legs, moving them as if playing a game.
One of the merchants, suddenly remembering, clapped his hands.
“Of course! You’re the Dragon Physician!”
“Dragon Physician?”
“Don’t you remember me? You treated my stomach ache two years ago when I was traveling down the Yangtze.”
That would have been shortly after meeting the Ghost Physician.
Remembering a patient’s face from two years ago, especially for a common ailment like a stomach ache, was unlikely.
Tang Mujin looked skeptical. But now, other merchants gathered, intrigued.
“I thought you might be the Dragon Physician, seeing how deftly you treated people.”
“What’s this Dragon Physician?”
“Are you by any chance Tang Mujin from Chengdu, Sichuan?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
When Tang Mujin nodded, the merchants burst into laughter.
“Who doesn’t know their own nickname?”
There are two ways to earn a nickname.
The first is to spread it yourself until it sticks. This is often the choice of local ruffians or mediocre martial artists. The downside is that the process can be a bit undignified.
The second is to let others naturally bestow it upon you. The downside here is that you might end up with a nickname you never wanted, as Tang Mujin had.
Namgung Myung’s voice whispered in Tang Mujin’s ear.
Tang Mujin felt a shiver run down his spine.
The nickname “Dragon Physician” was far too grandiose.
Young celebrities often get nicknames involving dragons, but having such a title attached to his name felt strange. Especially with someone nearby eager to tease him.
The excited merchant, oblivious to Tang Mujin’s discomfort, continued.
“They say when the line of Divine Physicians ended, the heavens sent a new trio of great physicians. Following the Ghost Physician and the Demon Physician, the Dragon Physician is making a name.”
News of the Ghost Physician and Demon Physician’s deaths hadn’t spread widely yet.
Namgung Myung’s voice came again.
Tang Mujin lowered his head and replied quietly.
Unaware of Tang Mujin’s inner turmoil, the merchants gathered around him.
“Even people from Anhui and Luoyang recognize the Dragon Physician from Sichuan. But it seems the man himself didn’t know.”
“Could you take a look at my skin condition?”
Before he knew it, Tang Mujin was surrounded.
People, curious about meeting someone famous, eagerly showed him their ailments. Tang Mujin sighed softly and began treating them.
Those without ailments watched intently as Tang Mujin worked.
To Tang Mujin, it wasn’t particularly entertaining, but anything done by a famous person tends to seem interesting and impressive.
Those treated by Tang Mujin ordered food or drinks for him in gratitude.
In a village of generous hearts, even passing merchants seemed to share in the spirit of generosity.
Hong Geolgae sat beside him, devouring food, while Namgung Myung awkwardly maneuvered his prosthetic hand to eat. A few martial artists, witnessing Namgung Myung’s skill, were silently astonished.
As the lively meal continued, Namgung Myung’s senses picked up on a man entering the inn.
Among the throngs of people, Namgung Myung’s focus was solely on one individual, and the reason was simple.
The man’s gaze wasn’t on Tang Mujin, but rather on Namgung Myung’s left arm. Instead of lingering like the others, he bolted out of the inn as if fleeing for his life.
Namgung Myung pondered.
“Why did he leave in such a hurry? Is he hiding something?”
There were many who had a grudge against the Namgung family or feared them. Plenty of people recognized Namgung Myung’s face, especially in Anhui Province, so it wouldn’t be surprising if a few were in this village.
Yet, this man reacted not to Namgung Myung’s face, but to his left arm.
“A person who reacts to my left arm… and has something to hide.”
The list of potential suspects in Namgung Myung’s mind narrowed.
“Could he have witnessed the day I lost my arm? But he’s not from the Demon Sect.”
That left only one possibility: the assassins from the Blood Pavilion who were present when he lost his arm to the Demon Sect’s warriors.
Namgung Myung sprang to his feet.
With a loud crash, his chair toppled over, but he paid it no mind.
“Follow me! Now!”
At his urgent shout, Tang Mujin, who had been tending to a patient, and Hong Geolgae, who was engrossed in his meal, immediately sprang into action.
No lengthy explanation was needed. Namgung Myung’s urgent tone was enough to convey the gravity of the situation.
Tang Mujin pushed through the crowd and dashed out of the inn, thinking to himself.
“Was I careless? Or just unlucky?”
He had only tended to a single patient, yet it had drawn unwanted attention.
Then again, approaching the Blood Pavilion’s main base without encountering any of their operatives would have been even stranger.
The three of them ran like madmen. In the distance, they spotted a man running away. Though they didn’t know his name, his movement technique was familiar. He was undoubtedly an assassin from the Blood Pavilion.
Without hesitation, Tang Mujin hurled a dagger. It sliced through the air and embedded itself in the man’s calf. With poison on the blade, escape was impossible.
The man collapsed to the ground, pulling out a small wooden flute from his pocket and blowing into it with all his might.
A piercing whistle echoed, far louder and sharper than one would expect from such a small instrument.
Tang Mujin and his companions halted. They couldn’t immediately discern the purpose of the flute.
Moments later, the door of a nearby building, which looked like a warehouse, burst open. More than a dozen people emerged, all trained in martial arts, and leapt onto the rooftops, staring down at Tang Mujin’s group.
Hong Geolgae shouted confidently.
“Bring it on!”
But they didn’t attack. As soon as they confirmed Tang Mujin’s group, they turned and fled in different directions.
Their movements clearly showed their intent: some might die, but others would survive.
Tang Mujin shouted.
“Don’t just stand there! Catch them all!”
The three of them, swords drawn, chased the black-clad figures over rooftops and walls.
Namgung Myung was the fastest, but Tang Mujin took down the most enemies.
Every time Tang Mujin threw a dagger, a black-clad figure fell in the distance.
After swiftly dispatching six with his poisoned daggers, Tang Mujin leapt onto the roof of a small house, searching for his next target.
In that instant, a sense of unease crept up from beneath his feet.
He saw and heard nothing, but his instincts screamed at him. Trusting his gut, he stepped back.
Whoosh!
A figure in black burst through the roof, wielding claw-like blades.
Cold sweat trickled down Tang Mujin’s back. Had he stayed put, he might have been killed in one blow.
The claw-wielding man spoke.
“You’ve come to meet your end, young one.”
He crouched low, not yet having reached the pinnacle of martial arts, but he showed no fear before Tang Mujin. It was as if he had something to rely on.
His movements were peculiar, reminiscent of a stealthy cat on a winter night.
Among those Tang Mujin had encountered, this man was perhaps the second most stealthy.
And from behind the claw-wielding man, the most stealthy figure Tang Mujin knew emerged silently.
Namgung Myung swung his sword without a sound. Even as his head flew into the air, the claw-wielding man didn’t realize what had happened.
The unexpected intruder was swiftly dealt with.
But the crucial point was that Tang Mujin’s group had been momentarily delayed.
Tang Mujin and Namgung Myung looked in the direction the assassins had fled. The distance between them had grown too vast to close.