Episode 192: The Proposal

“You want me to create a blocked meridian?”

When Tang Mujin repeated the request, Sama Rin nodded without hesitation.

“Yes.”

Her answer was firm, and Tang Mujin responded just as quickly.

“That’s absurd.”

His reply was blunt, almost rude, but Sama Rin didn’t seem fazed. It was clear she hadn’t expected him to agree easily.

“May I explain my situation, Master Healer?”

“Go ahead.”

“I started training with the sword when I was seven. I can confidently say I’ve trained harder than anyone else in the Sama family. I was always the first to arrive at the training grounds and the last to leave.”

“And?”

“Though it feels a bit boastful to say, I believe I have decent talent. I learned to read quickly, mastered sword forms faster than my siblings, and grasped the deeper meanings of techniques sooner.”

“Impressive. So?”

Though his tone was somewhat indifferent, Tang Mujin’s acknowledgment seemed to bolster her confidence.

“The problem is my constitution isn’t suited for martial arts. No matter how much I meditate or consume elixirs, my internal energy barely increases. While I stagnated, those who were once behind me surpassed me and became first-rate warriors. I’m still stuck at the second-rate level.”

“How old are you now?”

“Twenty-three.”

It’s not uncommon for someone from a prestigious family to not reach first-rate status by twenty-three. In fact, reaching that level just past twenty is often seen as a sign of exceptional talent. Sama Rin wasn’t untalented; she was simply average.

Yet, Tang Mujin felt a strange sense of unease.

’…How old was Hong Geolgae when he became first-rate?’

Tang Mujin and Hong Geolgae were the same age, having met at twenty. By the following year, after returning from an expedition with Daepunggae, Hong Geolgae had undeniably reached first-rate status. He was twenty-one then, a prodigy among his peers, though often teased for it.

Hong Geolgae’s only fault was having friends who were far from average.

Tang Mujin felt a pang of sympathy.

”…That doesn’t seem particularly slow.”

Noticing the change in his tone, Sama Rin pressed on.

“I could have been much greater. If only I had the same talent as others…”

“You’re at a decent level. Isn’t this a bit of a privileged complaint?”

“My competition is different. I have to compete with the Sama family and other prominent clans. It’s desperate!”

As she spoke, Sama Rin tried to edge her way into Tang Mujin’s room. But his defenses were impenetrable.

With a pout, she asked, “Isn’t it possible to create a blocked meridian? I need internal energy.”

Tang Mujin understood her reasoning. By creating an imbalance of yin or yang energy through a blocked meridian, she hoped to rapidly accumulate internal energy during the healing process.

It seemed feasible. If one could focus on meditation before the balanced energy dissipated, they could amass significant internal power. Of course, they’d have plenty of energy but little understanding of martial arts. Still, it was better than having neither.

Tang Mujin pondered.

‘Is it possible to create a blocked meridian?’

Theoretically, yes. Just as one could heal a blocked meridian, creating a slight flaw in the meridian to cause imbalance seemed plausible.

But Tang Mujin felt uneasy.

A blocked meridian isn’t a trivial ailment; it’s a severe condition that can be fatal. Moreover, there’s no guarantee that an artificially created blocked meridian would be the same as a natural one. While he had experience treating them, he had never created one, and there was a risk of something going wrong.

“It’s dangerous. Even a small mistake could leave you unable to practice martial arts, or worse, crippled. You might even die.”

“I’m prepared for the risk!”

Tang Mujin studied her closely.

She didn’t seem like someone truly ready to face such danger. It was more like a child’s naive optimism—believing that while others might be at risk, she’d be fine.

Tang Mujin shook his head.

“No. I’m not okay with it. It doesn’t sit right with me.”

“Why not?”

“I’m a healer. My job is to cure people, not turn healthy people into patients.”

Tang Mujin had harmed or killed many as a martial artist, but as a healer, he had never hurt anyone. Yet Sama Rin was asking him to cross that line.

As Tang Mujin remained indifferent, Sama Rin tried to slip off her outer garment and enter the room, hoping to resolve things physically. Tang Mujin frowned and pushed her forehead back with his finger.

“Didn’t I tell you not to come in? Before you cling to me, you should figure out if I even want you.”

Tang Mujin finally understood what Sama Yukong meant by “have a pleasant night” before he left. What kind of conversations did that old man have with his niece?

Sama Rin had thought Tang Mujin would eventually relent, but his stance was firmer than expected. Now, an uncomfortable tension hung between them.

Desperate, Sama Rin racked her brain. How could she persuade Tang Mujin in this situation? Nothing came to mind.

“I may not have talent, but I’ve worked really, really hard.”

Tang Mujin glanced at her hands. They were covered in calluses and small scars. She wasn’t lying about her efforts.

“Yes, it seems that way.”

“It’s not a bad thing. I’m not endangering anyone else. I’m asking for this, and I’m the one at risk. I’ll pay the price. You’ll become a benefactor to the Sama family.”

“Still, no.”

Sama Rin felt like she was hitting a brick wall. She hadn’t expected to find a man who couldn’t be swayed by money or beauty.

Then, a thought struck her. It might not work, but it was worth a try.

“Could it be for the advancement of medicine?”

“The advancement of medicine?”

Surprisingly, Tang Mujin showed interest. Sama Rin seized the opportunity.

“Medicine wasn’t always as advanced as it is now. It developed through the courage and experimentation of many. This could be a monumental achievement for a healer!”

Tang Mujin pondered.

There were countless healers in the world, but a healer’s skill and reputation were often judged by how much ancient medical knowledge they had mastered. Those who knew a lot were considered skilled, while those who knew little were seen as lacking.

From ancient times to now, very few healers had surpassed their predecessors to create original treatments or cures. Even the most aggressive practitioners were more collectors of medical knowledge than creators.

But what Sama Rin proposed wasn’t just adding a new treatment. It was expanding the very realm of medicine—a monumental endeavor that could change the world.

What healer could remain indifferent in the face of such a colossal achievement?

“You wouldn’t just be a healer. You’d be remembered as a great martial artist and healer who enabled those without talent to compete with the gifted. Countless people would praise you and the Tang family of Sichuan.”

Tang Mujin stared at her, then cut her off with a firm voice.

”…Go back for now.”

With that, he closed the door.

Sama Rin stood in front of the closed door for a long time.

She hadn’t spent the night in his room, nor had she received a definitive answer. Yet, she felt lighter than ever.

She was certain her proposal had struck a chord with Tang Mujin.

The next morning, the group set off for the Sama family estate, led by Sama Yukong and Sama Rin.

Namgung Myung quietly whispered to Tang Mujin, “While we’re dawdling here, do you think Young might forget what her father looks like?”

“Surely not.”

“It could happen. Kids forget quickly if they don’t see someone for a while.”

“But there’s no helping it now. I might make history. Not just a small footnote, but a name in bold letters.”

“Dream big, huh.”

Namgung Myung grumbled, but he found Tang Mujin’s words convincing.

If he achieved such a feat, it would be strange not to be remembered. Future generations might not know the emperor’s name, but they’d remember Tang Mujin.

‘If anyone else had said this, I’d dismiss it as nonsense. But Tang Mujin… he might just pull it off.’

Namgung Myung recalled how long it had taken him to build his internal energy.

No, discussing how long it took was a strange approach. From the time he was half his current height, he’d been sitting in meditation, practicing internal energy techniques, and that training was still ongoing.

Cultivating inner strength through martial arts isn’t something you can achieve with a few years of intense effort. It’s a lifelong journey, starting from the moment you begin until the day you die. An endless process, never truly complete.

But if Tang Mujin’s attempt succeeds, everything changes. In just a few months, anyone could amass immense inner power.

No need for the tedious practice of sitting cross-legged. After a few months of struggle, one could emerge as a person with formidable inner strength.

“A world where anyone can easily and quickly cultivate inner power, where everyone becomes a martial artist?”

Just as a child learns to use chopsticks or gather firewood from their parents, everyone might start learning martial arts as part of their daily routine.

What kind of world would that be? Namgung Myung felt a vague sense of fear about the future that lay ahead.

Soon, the grand gates of the Sama family estate came into view, and there stood Sama Jeung, the head of the family, waiting outside to greet them. As soon as he spotted the group, he spread his arms wide in welcome.

“Tang So-hyup, you really came. A wise decision indeed.”

For the head of the family to come out to greet them personally was a sign of exceptional hospitality.

To be precise, the warmest welcome was directed at Tang Mujin, while the other three received a slightly less enthusiastic reception.

Regardless, Sama Jeung’s presence confirmed it: this plan involved the entire Sama family, not just Sama Rin or Sama Yugong.

Sama Yugong and Sama Jeung approached Tang Mujin from either side. No one found it strange; everyone knew Tang Mujin was the main figure here.

Meanwhile, Namgung Myung, Hong Geolgae, and Hyun Gong were accompanied by the servants of the Sama family.

“We’ll escort you to the guest quarters. If you need anything, just let us know.”

“Understood.”

Before they got too far from Tang Mujin, Namgung Myung sent him a discreet message.

• How long do you think it will take?

• Not sure exactly. Even at the shortest, it might take a few months.

• Are you starting the pulse creation today?

• It’s not something you can do on a person right away. But I need to check for any potential issues in the meantime.

Looks like it’ll be a while. Namgung Myung thought as he followed the servants to the guest quarters.

Tang Mujin spent his days with Sama Yugong, delving into medical research. His time with his friends was brief.

But his friends understood how busy Tang Mujin was, so they didn’t press him for time.

After all, it would be awkward for a group of men to cling to each other just to hang out.

On the first day they arrived at the Sama estate, the servants had told them to ask for anything they needed.

Hyun Gong and Hong Geolgae took full advantage of this, requesting various things, and the servants obliged, providing entertainment, interesting news, and exquisite delicacies.

However, unlike Hong Geolgae and Hyun Gong, the servants couldn’t fulfill Namgung Myung’s desires. He found joy in challenges, not in material things or food.

One deep night, Namgung Myung sat up in bed, feeling restless to the point of madness.

“I can’t take it anymore.”

Quietly, he got up, slid open the door, and stepped outside.

The cold wind whipped around him, seeping through his clothes.

An ordinary person might have retreated from the biting cold, but Namgung Myung found it invigorating.

“Refreshing.”

Barefoot, he climbed onto the roof and leaped to the adjacent building.

“This is it.”

With eyes gleaming, Namgung Myung roamed the Sama estate, forgetting any worries about being caught and the potential trouble it could cause.

His mind was consumed with the desire to get his hands on something others held dear.

But it wasn’t easy. Even late at night, too many people were still awake. To make matters worse, there were quite a few who seemed highly skilled.

No matter how much Namgung Myung prided himself on his stealth, he couldn’t fool everyone.

“Stealthy, start with the places I can actually infiltrate.”

He prowled around, searching for a building he could enter without being detected.

But nothing seemed suitable. Without access to the buildings, it was hard to guess where the valuables might be.

Eventually, he changed his plan.

“Tonight is for reconnaissance.”

His gaze shifted from the grand buildings to the outskirts of the Sama estate, searching for the prison.

Namgung Myung’s interest in the prison was simple. The Namgung family had a prison, and among those imprisoned, there were three thieves.

People often imagine that the prisons of great families hold mad martial artists or legendary villains.

In reality, half the prisoners are petty thieves, and the rest are minor villains caught in passing. Namgung Myung’s target was the petty thieves.

“I’ll coax a thief into telling me where the valuables are.”

It’s a common misconception that skilled guards watch over the prisons of great families.

With petty criminals inside, there’s no reason for skilled guards. Often, there aren’t even guards at all. The Namgung family’s prison had no guards.

Unexpectedly, however, there was a vigilant guard in front of the Sama family’s prison.

“The Sama family is quite thorough.”

Instead of confronting the guard and causing a commotion, Namgung Myung decided to quietly scout around the prison, listening for any signs of life.

He had no intention of attacking the guard and creating chaos, nor did he want to find the prison empty after sneaking in.

“If there are prisoners, there must be a guard. But it doesn’t hurt to be sure.”

The night was quieter than usual due to the falling snow.

Namgung Myung pressed close to the prison, listening for any sounds from within.

“The sound is coming from below. Is the prison connected underground?”

He listened intently, his heightened senses picking up the noises from below.

The sounds from a winter prison are often the same.

The shivering breaths of prisoners, the groans of those enduring pain after a beating, or the mutterings of prisoners venting their anger at the world.

But all Namgung Myung heard was the maddened howling of beasts.

The moment he heard those cries, his face hardened.

No one would imprison animals in a dungeon.