Episode 231: Nogunsan

The villagers looked at Mok Wana with a mix of sympathy and curiosity.

“Is he just stringing her along with promises of making her his concubine, only to keep her at arm’s length?”

Yet, no one dared to voice such thoughts to Dang Mujin. To the people of Nogunsan, he was a savior beyond reproach.

They were prepared to cover up any misdeeds he might commit, even if it meant turning a blind eye to a murder. Seducing a woman seemed trivial in comparison, especially since it didn’t appear to be a forced relationship.

“They’re just young and full of life. These things happen.”

The villagers exchanged knowing glances, silently agreeing not to gossip about what they’d seen. If the couple decided to stay the night, they would ensure only one room was available, no matter the excuse.

Dang Mujin turned to Pyo Chung.

“Sir, I’ve heard there’s an illness spreading in the village.”

“That’s right. A doctor from the lower village came by, but there hasn’t been much improvement.”

“May I take a look now?”

In truth, Dang Mujin was a bit suspicious of the situation.

Recently, Hwayeon Shinni had been concocting all sorts of schemes to pair him with Mok Wana.

The fact that they were sent to Nogunsan together at Hwayeon Shinni’s request seemed too coincidental.

Dang Mujin even considered the possibility that the villagers’ illness might be feigned.

However, Pyo Chung showed no hesitation as he led Dang Mujin and Mok Wana to a nearby house.

“Come this way.”

While the villagers prepared a clean room and warm bedding for them, Dang Mujin and Mok Wana followed Pyo Chung inside.

Inside, a couple in their thirties lay side by side, oblivious to the visitors.

“There are nearly twenty people with similar symptoms.”

“I see.”

Dang Mujin sat beside the husband, examining him closely.

“His face is flushed, his breathing is labored, and his limbs seem slightly swollen.”

He took the man’s wrist to check his pulse.

“The pulse is rapid but not excessively strong or weak.”

When Dang Mujin gently pressed the man’s abdomen, the man grimaced in pain despite his semi-conscious state.

He repeated the process with the woman, receiving the same reaction.

Pyo Chung, trying to recall something, finally spoke up.

“The previous doctor did a similar examination. He mentioned a diagnosis, but I can’t quite remember the name.”

“Wasn’t it ‘Simbokhyeoljatong’?”

“Ah, yes, that’s what he said.”

“He likely prescribed Daegunjungtang or Dangguigungjungtang.”

“Exactly. You speak as if you were there.”

Both Pyo Chung and Mok Wana looked at him in surprise.

Mok Wana was knowledgeable in medicine, but she lacked the hands-on experience to diagnose and prescribe as swiftly as Dang Mujin.

Pyo Chung asked, “Was the doctor’s prescription wrong?”

“Not necessarily. Any doctor would diagnose it that way based on these symptoms. But since the treatment didn’t work, I plan to explore other possibilities.”

Dang Mujin wouldn’t have immediately concluded it was Simbokhyeoljatong.

However, he defended the previous doctor’s diagnosis because it indicated a certain level of competence.

He hoped the villagers wouldn’t dismiss the doctor as a quack. Without trust, a doctor can’t perform to their full potential.

Dang Mujin examined the patients’ tongues, finding a thick, dark coating instead of the usual white.

He clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“It might be an internal abscess.”

“An internal abscess?”

“It’s when an abscess grows inside the body instead of on the surface.”

Pyo Chung’s expression darkened.

An abscess is dangerous enough when visible, but internal growth is even more perilous.

“Is there a way to treat it?”

“First, we need to confirm if it truly is an internal abscess.”

Dang Mujin retrieved a long needle from his kit.

He inserted it into the husband’s upper abdomen, just below the chest.

Pyo Chung and Mok Wana initially thought Dang Mujin was performing acupuncture.

But they were soon alarmed by how deeply he inserted the needle.

Acupuncture typically involves shallow insertion, just enough to affect the meridians without drawing blood.

Yet, Dang Mujin’s needle went deep, disappearing halfway into the man’s body.

“Is it normal to insert the needle that deeply?”

“This isn’t acupuncture. I’m checking for an abscess.”

Dang Mujin carefully withdrew the needle, sniffing its tip. There was no foul odor of pus, only a small drop of blood.

“If it were an internal abscess, pus would have oozed out. It’s not an abscess.”

“Then what is it?”

“It seems to be poison.”

An internal abscess wouldn’t spread among so many people simultaneously.

This suggested an unknown disease or poison, and Dang Mujin leaned towards the latter.

“What kind of poison?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Is there a poison you don’t know?”

“It doesn’t seem to be a common one.”

Nogunsan is home to various poisonous plants and creatures.

Poisonous herbs, venomous insects, snakes, and moths—there are hundreds, if not thousands, of types.

However, the actual poisons are limited to a dozen or so types, given that these creatures share the same habitat.

The important thing is that the people of Nogunsan are familiar with the local poisons.

The fact that they couldn’t identify this as poison suggested it was something new.

This puzzled Dang Mujin as well.

If it had come from another region, it would have been less surprising.

But Dang Mujin had spent months in Nogunsan with Namgung Myung.

Like the locals, he was familiar with the poisons in the area.

“Where could this poison have come from?”

Dang Mujin pondered before asking, “Since last fall, how many have fallen ill?”

“About thirty or forty. Some have been affected twice, even three times.”

Multiple occurrences suggested a low mortality rate.

“How long do the symptoms last?”

“They lose consciousness for about two weeks and remain bedridden for a month.”

“Is there anything common among those affected?”

“Most of them ventured into the forest to gather herbs and poisons.”

“Hmm.”

This information was enough to form a hypothesis. A previously unknown poison seemed to have emerged.

“I’ll need to investigate. I’ll check the area for any new poisonous substances and return. Please wait patiently.”

As Dang Mujin and Mok Wana stepped outside, Pyo Chung hurried after them.

A woman who had prepared a cozy bed for them also approached.

Pyo Chung suggested, “You’ve traveled far. Why not rest for the night before heading out?”

Dang Mujin glanced at the sky. The sun was still high.

It was too early to call it a day.

“No, it’s fine. It’s best to move now.”

“Don’t you need a comfortable place to sleep?”

“I haven’t slept under the stars in a while. It might be nice to spend a night outdoors.”

“Ah, the vigor of youth…”

Pyo Chung and the woman exchanged knowing smiles.

Nogunsan can be divided into two main areas.

The steep peaks above and the forested valleys below.

The peaks have few trees and even fewer poisonous creatures or animals. There’s no need to worry about humidity or insects disturbing your sleep.

That’s why the people of Nogunsan built their homes on the peaks, traversing the narrow paths. Occasionally, travelers passing through would also take the high road.

In contrast, the valleys below are dense with untouched trees, home to rare and exotic plants.

While it might seem appealing, there’s a reason the locals chose to live above.

The valleys are teeming with insects and wild animals. An ordinary person wouldn’t last ten days down there.

The humidity is overwhelming.

After just half an hour, you’re drenched in sweat and moisture, your clothes clinging to your skin.

During his time in Nogunsan, Dang Mujin rarely ventured into the valleys.

Yet, people occasionally braved the descent to gather herbs and poisons found only below.

Those suffering from the mysterious illness likely encountered the poison in the valleys.

Of course, there was one advantage to being below the peak. It was less cold and less hot than outside.

While the outside world was still chilly for spring, the area beneath the peak of Nogunsan felt like full spring, or even late spring, with its warmth.

Mok Wana asked Dang Mujin, “You don’t know where we’re headed, do you?”

“It’s not that I don’t know where we’re going; it’s that we don’t have a destination. The villagers don’t know where the poison came from, so we have to keep wandering until we find the source.”

Initially, Dang Mujin and Mok Wana walked side by side, but at some point, Mujin began to maintain a distance of at least five steps ahead. The humidity and sweat made their clothes cling to their skin, making them a bit self-conscious around each other.

The days were still short, and in the mountains, the sun set even faster. They had only been walking for a couple of hours since leaving the village, but darkness was already closing in.

Mujin decided to stop a bit earlier than usual. “Let’s rest here for today.”

“Alright,” Wana replied, carrying a bundle of twigs in both hands, which she had gathered along the way. Though the wood wasn’t completely dry and would produce more smoke, it was better than nothing.

They lit a fire and sat across from each other. They filled their stomachs with the snacks the villagers had provided, though it was still early in the evening.

Sitting around the fire, they began to talk, a familiar situation for them. They had spent many similar evenings together during their time in the cult.

At first, they discussed their plans and the direction they would take. But as the night deepened, the conversation shifted. People tend to become more introspective as night falls.

Their talk gradually turned to the past, from their lives in the Dang family to their time in the cult, and then even further back.

Wana asked Mujin, “What’s your dream?”

“Right now, I want to focus on rebuilding the Dang family. When I’m older, I hope to step back and live a relaxed life as a healer.”

Wana shook her head at Mujin’s answer. “No, not your goals. Your dream.”

“Aren’t they the same?”

“Master Hwayeon said that goals are something you set after careful thought, but dreams are what you’ve naturally had since you were young.”

Mujin pondered. What had he wished for as a child?

Something came to mind. “It’s pretty common.”

“What is it?”

“I wanted to have a family.”

Wana nodded. “It’s simple but nice. Not too difficult.”

“But there’s something important. No one should be missing.”

Mujin tossed a twig into the fire as he continued. “My mother isn’t with us, you know? People say having at least a father is something to be grateful for, but I always envied families with both parents.”

“What happened to your mother?”

“She couldn’t survive childbirth. They said she was small-framed.”

It was a common enough reason, so Mujin didn’t consider himself particularly unfortunate. Yet, the longing for what he never had lingered.

Mujin thought of Danseryeong and Dangyeong. “I wanted a wife and children. By your definition, I’ve already achieved my dream.”

Mujin felt content. There were many things he still wanted to accomplish, but he was satisfied with his life as it was. At least, he wouldn’t have any regrets.

Wana hesitated before speaking. “Can’t I be part of that dream?”

Mujin looked a bit awkward. “Isn’t that a bit strange? A husband and wife, parents and children—that’s the usual setup. There are different kinds of families, but that wasn’t my dream.”

Feeling uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation, Mujin quickly changed the subject before Wana could continue. “What was your dream?”

“I…”

As a child, all Wana thought about was survival. Unlike the other children who perished in the cave, Wana had survived. But did that mean she had achieved her dream?

No, it wasn’t a dream. It was more of a goal. Wana didn’t have a childhood. To survive, she had to grow up quickly and learn to push others towards death to save herself.

The day she left the cave, she felt, strangely enough, that her childhood was finally beginning. She could finally dream.

And Wana believed she had already achieved her dream. Because on that day, Mujin was by her side. She couldn’t imagine a better dream.

Wana’s dream was Mujin. She knew it was odd to make a person your dream. But that’s how she felt.

However, today, Wana realized that her dream and Mujin’s dream couldn’t coexist.

So she smiled playfully and said, “I can’t quite remember, but I think I achieved my dream too.”

How fortunate it was to have walked together, even for a moment. That’s what Wana thought.