Episode 233: Divergent Dreams

“Wan-ah, did you hear that?”

“It sounds like she’s asking who we are… but I can’t quite place the dialect.”

The unfamiliar woman spoke again, enunciating each word clearly.

“Who are you, to have made it through the Blood Parasites and reached this place?”

Thanks to her slow and deliberate speech, both Dang Mujin and Mok Wan-ah managed to understand her.

Dang Mujin replied just as slowly.

“We heard the people around here were suffering from a strange illness, so we came to investigate. I have no idea what these Blood Parasites are.”

“The Blood Parasites are a type of venomous insect. They’re small but can carry a variety of poisons.”

The woman tried to illustrate their size by holding her thumb and forefinger close together, indicating something tiny.

Her explanation was straightforward enough for Dang Mujin to grasp immediately. They were the small bugs that had clung to them on their way here.

“Those rice-sized things? They kept sticking to us, so we brushed them off as we came.”

Mok Wan-ah nodded in agreement, and the woman looked at them incredulously.

“That’s impossible. I know how crude the poison techniques in the Central Plains are…”

“Sounds like you’ve only met amateurs. Those bugs might trouble the uninitiated, but they were no match for us.”

“That’s nonsense. A great tree can only grow in a vast forest. How could such mastery develop in the Central Plains, where even basic poison techniques are lacking? Do you possess a Poison Pearl or something?”

“Poison Pearl?”

Dang Mujin recalled a bead he had taken from the Demon Sect, now forgotten somewhere in his belongings.

Before he could respond, the woman muttered to herself.

“No, Poison Pearls aren’t common. There’s no way there are two in the Central Plains, where poison techniques haven’t even taken root. What’s going on?”

She seemed caught in a loop of suspicion and self-answering, prompting Dang Mujin to click his tongue.

“Why don’t you understand? I studied medicine until I was twenty, and since then, I’ve been mastering poison techniques. I’m not easily outmatched.”

Under different circumstances, he might have kept his poison skills a secret. But here, there was no need. The woman could already guess his proficiency.

Dang Mujin thought he was being straightforward and polite, but the woman seemed more bewildered.

“You started learning poison techniques at twenty? How old are you now?”

“I’m twenty-six.”

“You’re saying you’ve achieved this level in just six years?”

The woman found his claim hard to believe. Six years was far too short a time to master enough to fend off the Blood Parasites.

Poison techniques are powerful. With the right poisons and mastery, even a novice can easily defeat a swordsman who has trained for years. But they are also perilous. Unlike swordsmanship, practitioners often harm themselves.

Many die unable to control their poisons, and countless others become mentally impaired, unable to withstand the toxic influence.

To escape such dangers, one must endure grueling effort from a young age. Even that might not be enough to casually brush off the poison of the Blood Parasites.

The woman reached a conclusion.

‘He’s just boasting like a young man would. He must have learned some poison techniques to get this far, but he can’t possibly be skilled in medicine too.’

If Dang Mujin hadn’t demonstrated his sword skills against her bodyguard, she might have believed him a little. But seeing him excel in both swordsmanship and poison at such a young age was hard to accept, let alone his claim of medical expertise.

While it’s true that poison and medicine share a common foundation, their paths and goals diverge significantly.

Medicine and poison techniques are as different as carpentry and blacksmithing, or pottery and weaving.

‘But even without considering medicine, he’s impressive.’

A swordsman who can shrug off the poison of the Blood Parasites is no ordinary person.

In her homeland, those who practiced swordsmanship and poison techniques were not the same.

A poison master would always have a weapon-skilled bodyguard. Occasionally, someone would master both, but such individuals were rare, often ending up mediocre in both.

The woman found herself intrigued by Dang Mujin.

‘Perhaps sometimes a great tree can grow, and a forest can form around it.’

As the woman remained lost in thought, Dang Mujin asked her a question.

“It seems you’ve released these venomous insects around here. Who are you to be causing trouble in Nogunsan?”

His words must have seemed disrespectful, as the bodyguard beside her placed a hand on his sword hilt. Though his speech was clumsy, he seemed to understand well enough.

The woman held up a hand to stop him and spoke.

“I am Gyo Buhwa of the Five Venoms Sect. This is Jin Ram.”

“I’m Dang Mujin, and she’s Mok Wan-ah. I’ve never heard of the Five Venoms Sect.”

“That’s not surprising. It’s located in Yunnan Province, southwest of here. From there, it’s at least a month’s journey south.”

Dang Mujin’s eyes widened. He had a hunch about the place she was describing. The Southern Barbarians.

While some referred to the Yunnan region, home to the Wudang Sect, as the Southern Barbarians, the locals found it irritating. The real Southern Barbarians were elsewhere.

And it seemed Gyo Buhwa’s Five Venoms Sect was indeed in that true Southern Barbarian territory.

“What brings you all the way here from such a distant place?”

Gyo Buhwa hesitated, unsure if she should reveal her situation.

But she quickly made up her mind. This was no time to be picky.

“My faction within the Five Venoms Sect was nearly wiped out in a power struggle. I came here to survive and rebuild, to reclaim dominance over the sect.”

To someone from the Central Plains, this might seem like barbaric behavior.

The idea of factions within a sect was strange enough, but to fight to the death over it? It seemed absurd.

Sensing Dang Mujin’s skepticism, Gyo Buhwa added a clarification.

“The Five Venoms Sect isn’t like the sects you’re familiar with. Its members alone outnumber several of your largest sects combined, and its influence is even greater. Even the royal court can’t ignore it.”

“I get that. But why settle in Nogunsan?”

“To regain control of the Five Venoms Sect, I need to gather poisons. I searched for a place in the Central Plains with abundant poisons, and this place had the best. The climate is also somewhat similar to my homeland.”

Dang Mujin noticed the dirt on Jin Ram’s clothes and the tools resembling farming equipment scattered among the grass. It seemed they had cultivated this field for a reason.

‘A field of this size couldn’t have been made overnight.’

It had been about four years since Dang Mujin had stayed in Nogunsan and fought the Taiyi Sword Sect’s leader. Back then, there was no talk of such fields or people suffering from venomous insects. Gyo Buhwa and Jin Ram must have quietly settled in after that.

Dang Mujin studied Gyo Buhwa and Jin Ram closely.

Initially, he had thought of driving them out immediately, but as he listened, that plan took a backseat.

Encountering someone skilled in poison techniques in the Central Plains was rare.

Moreover, he was deeply curious about the poison techniques of the Southern Barbarians. He felt he could learn a great deal just by talking to them.

‘First, let’s see if we can have a conversation.’

Dang Mujin had a knack for winning people over. Few could resist a physician offering free consultations.

“You must have had a hard time living in a foreign land. Is there anything troubling you physically?”

“Not really.”

Gyo Buhwa was convinced Dang Mujin was a quack and had no intention of discussing her health.

But Dang Mujin noticed her slight lean to one side and the stiffness in her movements, especially when bending or making large upper body motions.

‘She may not realize it, but something’s off.’

As a physician, he sometimes had to deal with uncooperative patients.

The trick was to start with obvious symptoms and gradually uncover others.

Dang Mujin began.

“Do you find it hard to lie flat or sleep on your left side, always ending up on your right?”

Gyo Buhwa hadn’t been aware of this symptom. But thinking back, she realized she always slept on her side.

Still, she denied it.

“Not necessarily.”

“Why hide it? You probably feel a bit off-balance when you walk, with your upper body slightly tilted.”

Without waiting for her response, Dang Mujin glanced at Jin Ram. Such symptoms are hard for the person to notice but easy for those around them.

Sure enough, Jin Ram’s expression showed a hint of surprise.

“You likely have discomfort during certain activities, and periodic back pain, right?”

For women, discomfort during certain activities was common, so it was a safe guess. They often had no way to compare their experiences with others.

Back pain is a common ailment. While women often experience it monthly, many suffer from it for other reasons as well.

Moreover, if someone is bundled up in thick clothing even in this warm weather, it’s no wonder their body might be struggling under the weight.

There was a hint of skepticism in Gyobu-hwa’s voice.

“How did you figure that out?”

“I told you, I’m a physician. Since I’m here, I might as well give you a quick check-up. Lie down.”

Once a patient recognizes a physician’s skill, the balance of power naturally shifts to the physician.

Caught up in the moment, Gyobu-hwa lay down.

Tang Mujin gently ran his hand over Gyobu-hwa’s abdomen.

As a woman, she had little muscle there, but it was tense. Even a slight press elicited no reaction.

‘It doesn’t seem like there’s any chest or flank discomfort, but I’m not sure about any lower abdominal tension.’

Tang Mujin subtly channeled a faint internal energy into Gyobu-hwa to examine her condition.

Her internal energy was similar to Tang Mujin’s, unlike Mok Wan-ah’s. It was laced with a toxic aura, with a concentrated point in her lower abdomen.

However, there was a distinct difference from Tang Mujin.

But lingering too long would arouse suspicion.

Tang Mujin tapped Gyobu-hwa’s side.

“Turn over.”

Gyobu-hwa complied, and Tang Mujin slowly ran his hand down her spine.

When his hand reached the lumbar region, he found a slight protrusion on the left side.

Pressing it with a bit of force, Gyobu-hwa let out a small groan.

It was right near the area where lower abdominal tension often manifests.

Without waiting for permission, Tang Mujin inserted a needle and explained.

“Your lower abdomen feels tight and bloated, doesn’t it?”

“Sometimes.”

“It’s probably more than just ‘sometimes’… Anyway, that’s a symptom called lower abdominal tension. It’s caused by stagnant blood pooling near the bladder.”

“Is it dangerous?”

There was a hint of anxiety in Gyobu-hwa’s voice. She didn’t want to die of illness in a foreign land.

“It’s not life-threatening. But it can make lying down difficult, and the back pain will worsen. Eventually, walking might become hard, but few people reach that stage. It’s more of a nuisance than anything.”

Tang Mujin’s hands moved swiftly, inserting needles below the neck, behind the shoulders, and a few inches off the spine, as well as the center of the legs.

“You said the blood is pooling near the bladder, so why are you needling places that don’t hurt?”

Tang Mujin traced two lines with his fingers over the needled areas. They split near the shoulders but soon merged into one.

“This is the Bladder Meridian, running from between the eyebrows, over the head, down to the lower back, and from behind the shoulders to the feet. Instead of treating the affected area directly, it balances the surrounding energy…”

He paused his explanation and removed the needles.

“Huh…?”

It might have been her imagination, but Gyobu-hwa felt her long-standing back pain ease.

This wasn’t a condition that had developed from her hardships in the Central Plains.

It had clung to her since her days of luxury in the Odokmun.

A condition that countless physicians had failed to cure was easily treated by a physician from a distant land.

Tang Mujin spoke nonchalantly.

“Don’t get too excited. It’s not completely cured.”

His words carried the assumption that the pain had lessened.

And patients naturally find trust in a physician who speaks with such confidence.

While Gyobu-hwa remained silent, Tang Mujin took out some herbs from his pack and ground them into powder.

It took no longer than a cup of tea to divide the powder into small packets.

“Lower abdominal tension is best treated with Decoction of Major Order of Qi or Decoction of the Large Abdomen, but since we can’t brew those here, I’ve made a plaster. It’s less effective, but by the time you finish it, you’ll feel much better.”

“How often should I take it?”

“Between early morning and around lunchtime, when is the pain usually worse?”

“Usually around lunchtime.”

“Then take it once a day at lunch. Mix it with barley porridge or drink it with tea. I’ll stay around for a few days to monitor your symptoms.”

Tang Mujin subtly created an opportunity to stay and discuss internal energy techniques.

And both Gyobu-hwa and Jin-ram found renewed trust in Tang Mujin’s demeanor.

The world is full of charlatans claiming to cure all ailments.

They all share one trait: they make excuses and disappear as soon as they get paid.

But Tang Mujin neither demanded payment nor tried to leave. Instead, he offered to stay. It was hard not to trust him.

Gyobu-hwa’s eyes gleamed with ambition and greed.

‘This guy is a genius.’

The world is vast, and geniuses are many.

But there are even more fools who fail to recognize them.

Gyobu-hwa didn’t consider herself one of those fools.

‘At his age, he’s mastered medicine, internal energy, and swordsmanship. What other skills might he have? No, he doesn’t need more skills. If he focuses solely on internal energy…’

Though she hadn’t shared it with Jin-ram, Gyobu-hwa had half-abandoned her dream of reclaiming the Odokmun.

Reviving a fallen faction alone seemed impossible.

But seeing Tang Mujin, she saw potential.

No, it wasn’t just potential. It was almost a certainty.

‘Tang Mujin, was it? I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him.’

At the same time, Tang Mujin maintained a calm facade.

‘If I fall behind Namgung-myeong, I’ll never hear the end of it. I need to find a clue to advance my internal energy here.’

Both Tang Mujin and Gyobu-hwa’s eyes sparkled with determination.