Namgung Myung seemed a bit indifferent.
“Let’s get one thing straight. I don’t have feelings for Jung Ok-ryeong like you think.”
“Really? Because your attitude towards us and towards Miss Jung seems worlds apart,” Dang Moo-jin pointed out sharply.
Namgung Myung responded as if he’d heard something absurd. “I treat everyone with a basic level of courtesy. If anything, I’m less formal with Jung Ok-ryeong.”
Dang Moo-jin nodded, accepting the explanation, though the others were quietly impressed that Namgung Myung could be even more formal.
Dang Moo-jin crossed his arms, lost in thought. He concluded that Namgung Myung probably wasn’t lying about not having feelings for Jung Ok-ryeong. After all, when they first met, Namgung Myung had tried to charm a woman on the ship.
Namgung Myung continued, “Still, among the potential matches, Jung Ok-ryeong was the best. Her background might not be the strongest, but she’s a good person. Unlike women who only care about appearances, she trains in martial arts and is quite knowledgeable. She’s not pretentious either.”
“Yeah, she’s definitely not pretentious,” Dang Moo-jin agreed.
“Plus, unlike other women I’ve barely met, I’ve known Jung Ok-ryeong since childhood because she’s from a nearby region. But that’s all there is to it.”
“I see.”
Dang Moo-jin was about to wrap up the conversation, but Namgung Myung wasn’t finished.
“Still, it’s impressive that she didn’t call off the engagement even after I was disowned. She was more concerned about my injured arm than disappointed. And she even tried to help Wang Jin-cheong find his guardian despite his shabby appearance. Her character is even better than I remembered.”
His indifferent tone belied the unusually long list of compliments. The brief encounter must have left quite an impression.
‘Seems like he does have some feelings for her. And why not?’
Comparing the past and present Namgung Myung, the current one was in a tough spot. He’d lost an arm and the backing of his powerful family.
It’s rare to find someone who remains unchanged in such circumstances, regardless of gender. Whether they could understand his odd habit of roof-hopping at night was another matter.
Realizing he’d been rambling, Namgung Myung adopted a nonchalant demeanor. “But that’s it. I plan to wander for a while longer, so I’m not thinking about marriage. If I do look for a partner, it’ll be after I reclaim my position in the Namgung family or settle elsewhere.”
Dang Moo-jin nodded. With Namgung Myung’s stance so clear, there was no need to push him towards Miss Jung.
“Alright. If you ever need help, let me know. Winning Miss Jung’s heart won’t be hard with my help,” Dang Moo-jin said confidently.
Namgung Myung gave a faint smile. “Ah… well, okay.”
“Since you’re meeting her again, at least apologize. She’s waited five years for you. It’s the least you can do.”
“I should do that.”
As the conversation was winding down, Hyun Gong and Hong Geol-gae whispered among themselves before asking Dang Moo-jin a question.
“Dang Moo-jin, just out of curiosity.”
“Yeah?”
“Who do you think likes you the most among those staying at the Tang family clinic?”
“It’s hard to say, but it’s probably one of three people: my father, Dan Seol-young, or Young-yi. But Young-yi seems to like my mom more. Kids usually prefer their moms.”
“And if you had to pick a fourth?”
Hong Geol-gae, Namgung Myung, and Hyun Gong focused intently on his answer.
But Dang Moo-jin couldn’t think of anyone.
“Hmm. Who could it be?”
As he pondered, an unpleasant thought crossed his mind. He frowned and asked, “You’re not wondering where you rank, are you?”
Hyun Gong quickly waved his hands. “Of course not. Anyway, got it.”
“Got what?”
“Just something.”
The three exchanged glances and sighed, each thinking of the same person.
Including Wang Jin-cheong, the five of them returned to watching the martial arts tournament.
Time flew by as they watched the clumsy fighters desperately swing their swords.
Suddenly, Namgung Myung exclaimed, “Oh?”
“What? See someone you know?”
“Over there, that guy. It’s Jung Tae-ryeong, Jung Ok-ryeong’s brother.”
Jung Tae-ryeong was a well-composed man. His martial skills seemed quite impressive compared to the other participants. With some luck, he might even win.
“Looks like Miss Jung came to Wuchang to support her brother in the tournament.”
“Seems so.”
But something was off. Jung Tae-ryeong’s expression was tense.
“He seems skilled enough. Why does he look so anxious?”
“Maybe he’s not used to performing in front of a crowd? Some people get really shy.”
“Could be.”
Jung Tae-ryeong’s opponent stepped up.
Unlike Jung Tae-ryeong, who wielded a sword, his opponent seemed to focus on hand-to-hand combat, with calloused fists and scarred forearms.
“Begin!”
At the announcer’s signal, the two clashed.
After exchanging three moves, Hyun Gong assessed calmly, “Jung Tae-ryeong has the upper hand. As long as he doesn’t rush, he’ll win.”
No one disagreed.
But the match took an unexpected turn.
Jung Tae-ryeong’s opponent focused solely on defending vital points while attacking aggressively. It was the best strategy for a weaker fighter against a stronger one. Yet, something seemed off.
A weaker fighter usually sacrifices flesh to break bones.
But this opponent seemed willing to sacrifice his own bones to wound Jung Tae-ryeong. His aggressive yet seemingly unconcerned attitude about winning was strange.
Dang Moo-jin and his group recognized this fighting style. It was typical of assassins from the Salmak.
Assassins aim to wound their target, even at the cost of their own lives, trusting their comrades to finish the job.
Dang Moo-jin frowned. “Is that guy a remnant of the Salmak?”
Hyun Gong disagreed. “I don’t think so. An assassin wouldn’t reveal themselves in public. If they wanted to kill, they’d do it outside the arena. Plus, his martial arts aren’t from the dark path, and his moves, while fierce, aren’t lethal.”
“Then why fight like that?”
“Who knows.”
Jung Tae-ryeong tried to maintain a steady pace, but his opponent’s ferocity made it hard to widen the gap.
Eventually, Jung Tae-ryeong won, but not without taking a harsh blow to the abdomen.
“The winner is Jung Tae-ryeong of the Bowon Clan!”
The announcer declared his victory, but Jung Tae-ryeong’s expression remained grim.
To make matters worse, a thin line of blood trickled from his lips. His occasional throat movements suggested he was suppressing the urge to vomit blood.
As Jung Tae-ryeong left the stage, Jung Ok-ryeong rushed to support him.
“His internal injuries must be serious,” Namgung Myung murmured.
Dang Moo-jin spoke up. “Namgung Myung, you’re going to see Miss Jung anyway, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Why not check on Jung Tae-ryeong’s condition while you’re at it?”
“Good idea.”
The healer’s instinct was kicking in. Seeing a patient with internal injuries, it was only natural to offer help.
Besides, Jung Ok-ryeong had saved Wang Jin-cheong, so it seemed fair to return the favor.
Dang Moo-jin and his group asked around and found the inn where Jung Ok-ryeong and Jung Tae-ryeong were staying.
The Jung siblings were at a modest inn, neither shabby nor luxurious.
Listening at the door of Jung Tae-ryeong’s room, they heard three voices inside. It seemed the siblings were talking with a doctor provided by the tournament organizers.
“I can prescribe medicine to replenish blood and warm the body, but I can’t guarantee how effective it will be. This isn’t a simple stomachache.”
“Where should we go for faster results?”
“There might be better doctors out there, but in Wuchang, I’m the best.”
The doctor’s voice was humble yet confident.
When they heard coughing and retching, Jung Ok-ryeong’s voice grew somber.
“Isn’t there a better way?”
”…I’m sorry. My skills are lacking, and I have no other solutions.”
After a deep sigh and some rustling, the door opened, and an elderly doctor stepped out.
Dang Moo-jin and his group moved aside to let the doctor pass, then entered the room with Namgung Myung leading the way.
The sudden appearance of guests startled the Jung siblings. Despite coughing up blood, Jung Tae-ryeong stood and greeted Namgung Myung with a respectful bow. His demeanor was remarkably mature.
“Namgoong, I’ve heard you’ve been through a rough patch, but it seems you’ve come out stronger than ever. Cough, cough!”
As soon as Jeong Taeryeong finished speaking, he coughed up blood violently. Jeong Okryeong hurriedly brought a basin to catch the blood.
Dang Mujin watched the dark red liquid pool in the basin. There was quite a bit of blood, but thankfully, no signs of internal organ damage. It seemed the organs were intact.
After wiping the blood from Jeong Taeryeong’s mouth, Jeong Okryeong turned to Namgoong Myung with a slightly exasperated expression.
“Namgoong Myung, why are you here?”
“I thought I might be able to help.”
“You can see this isn’t the time to discuss marriage. Just tell me where you’re staying, and I’ll come find you soon.”
“It’s not about that. I came because I thought I could help Jeong Daehyeop.”
Namgoong Myung had come to apologize, but he figured it would be even better if he could offer some assistance.
Coincidentally, Dang Mujin was eager to treat Jeong Taeryeong, so everything seemed to align perfectly.
Of course, Jeong Okryeong and Jeong Taeryeong didn’t fully grasp the situation.
“What kind of help?”
“Didn’t you need a doctor?”
“The one who just left is the best doctor in Wuchang. But he said there’s nothing he can do right now.”
Namgoong Myung chuckled.
“Until yesterday, he might have been the best in Wuchang. But not anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“Who do you think is the best doctor in the central plains?”
Jeong Okryeong pursed her lips before quickly responding.
“The Divine Doctor is long gone, so it must be the Ghost Doctor or the Demon Doctor. But lately, the Dragon Doctor seems more renowned.”
“Exactly. I brought the Dragon Doctor.”
“What?”
Jeong Okryeong and Jeong Taeryeong looked at him, unsure if he was joking or serious.
To Dang Mujin’s group, Namgoong Myung was someone who often spoke nonsense, but to Jeong Taeryeong and Jeong Okryeong, he wasn’t someone who would lie so easily.
A few years ago, Namgoong Myung was a relatively normal person.
Naturally, all eyes turned to Dang Mujin. With a calm expression, he stepped forward.
“I’m Dang Mujin from the Tang Family Clinic in Sichuan. May I check your pulse?”
Jeong Okryeong and Jeong Taeryeong were bewildered.
How could one of the most renowned doctors appear just when they needed him? It seemed too coincidental.
But aside from the timing, the man before them matched the description of the Dragon Doctor they had heard about: a modest doctor from the Tang Family, named Dang Mujin, with a youthful and neat appearance.
Jeong Okryeong, feeling both cautious and hopeful, spoke with a bit more formality than she had with Namgoong Myung.
“I’m not doubting you, but my brother’s injury is an internal one sustained during a martial arts duel. It’s a matter of medicine, but also of martial arts, so even the Dragon Doctor might…”
“It’s alright.”
Jeong Taeryeong interrupted his sister, coughing.
“All four of you are martial artists. And all of you have achieved far more than I have.”
“What? All four of you? Not just Namgoong Myung?”
Jeong Okryeong was so surprised she made a strange noise. It was hard to believe that these men, who seemed younger than her brother, were all so accomplished in martial arts.
Even if she could accept it for the other three, she couldn’t quite grasp how Dang Mujin could be so skilled at such a young age, excelling in both martial arts and medicine.
“Well, maybe not one of them… But the other three are beyond the reach of my sword.”
Despite his poor condition, Jeong Taeryeong spoke with a voice full of competitive spirit. Only Hong Geolgae looked uneasy.
Once Jeong Okryeong seemed to understand the situation, Dang Mujin knelt before Jeong Taeryeong.
“May I have your wrist?”
Jeong Taeryeong offered his hand without hesitation, and Dang Mujin checked his pulse. As expected, the problem was a disruption in his energy flow, not the severity of the injury itself.
Dang Mujin retrieved a needle case from his pocket and rolled up Jeong Taeryeong’s shirt.
A deep bruise marked Jeong Taeryeong’s abdomen, looking painful enough to make Jeong Okryeong tense up.
But Dang Mujin, unfazed, inserted needles into Jeong Taeryeong’s abdomen.
Directly needling the affected area was risky, but Dang Mujin was confident he wouldn’t cause any harm.
He channeled his internal energy through the needles, stabilizing Jeong Taeryeong’s disrupted energy flow and gradually soothing his body.
In less than half an hour, Jeong Taeryeong’s condition visibly improved. His complexion brightened, and his breathing became almost normal.
Dang Mujin cleaned the needles and returned them to the case.
“I’ve done what I can for now. Take a tonic to replenish your blood and rest for three or four days. You’ll be fine.”
“Thank you.”
Jeong Taeryeong expressed his gratitude with a serious expression.
However, Dang Mujin was lost in thought. It might be meddlesome, but he had more advice to offer Jeong Taeryeong.
Finally, he made up his mind.
‘He won’t take it the wrong way.’
Dang Mujin spoke to Jeong Taeryeong.
“Jeong Daehyeop, it seems you’ve dedicated a lot of time to practicing swordsmanship and martial arts.”
“Of course. I’m a martial artist, though not a very skilled one.”
“That’s commendable. But it seems you’re overdoing it a bit.”
“Pardon?”
Dang Mujin didn’t expect Jeong Taeryeong to understand immediately.
He traced two lines from Jeong Taeryeong’s fingertips to his chest with his finger. It was easier to explain acupuncture points this way to someone unfamiliar with medicine.
“The flow of your internal energy through the Hand Taiyang Small Intestine Meridian and the Hand Shaoyang Triple Burner Meridian is quite agile.”
Then he traced two lines from his toes to his abdomen.
“But the flow through the Foot Jueyin Liver Meridian and the Foot Yangming Stomach Meridian isn’t as strong. Balancing this will greatly enhance your martial prowess.”
Dang Mujin’s words hit the mark, and Jeong Taeryeong’s eyes widened in surprise.
“How did you… No, what should I do?”
“Focus on practicing lightness techniques for two hours a day. Instead of quick, complex footwork, concentrate on long-distance movement. You don’t need to wield a sword. In a month, you’ll see significant improvement in both your lightness skills and swordsmanship.”
Jeong Taeryeong knew there was only one person in the world who could offer such advice. To encounter such a remarkable opportunity because of an injury was incredible luck.
But he hesitated before responding.
“Thank you. But there’s a problem.”
“What is it?”
“You said to rest for three or four days. But I can’t. I have to compete again tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“If I don’t win this martial arts tournament, my sister will have to accept a marriage she doesn’t want.”
The group’s gaze shifted from Jeong Taeryeong and Jeong Okryeong to Namgoong Myung.
Namgoong Myung frowned slightly.
“Why are you looking at me?”
“Are you okay?”
“Of course—”
As Namgoong Myung was about to answer obliviously, Hong Geolgae kicked him in the shin, channeling his internal energy.
“Are you okay?”
”…I don’t think I am.”
For the first time in a long while, Namgoong Myung shed tears.