Episode 7: The Mysterious Doctor, Lee Chung

While Tang Mujin was brewing herbal medicine behind the clinic as usual, a stranger appeared, casually wandering around the premises.

The man looked to be in his fifties. His hair, graying at the temples, gave him a distinguished appearance, but his face was full of youthful mischief.

Judging by his comfortable attire, he didn’t seem to be an official. And since Tang Mujin had never seen him around the Cheongseong sect, he likely wasn’t one of their martial artists either.

Mujin glanced at him occasionally but didn’t pay much attention. Lately, there had been many people like him.

The clinic had been bustling with patients, and those waiting for their turn often had nothing better to do than loiter around, looking for something interesting.

Their behavior was predictable. First, they would stand with arms crossed, watching Mujin brew the medicine. When that got boring, they’d inspect the herbs hanging from the eaves, then drift toward the storage area.

Of course, not just anyone could be allowed near the storage filled with precious herbs. Mujin had to block people from approaching it five or ten times a day.

Sure enough, the middle-aged man made his way toward the storage. Mujin called out to him from his seat.

“Sir! You can’t go in there!”

People usually reacted in one of two ways: they’d either glance at Mujin and walk away as if nothing happened, or they’d pretend not to hear and keep going. This man was the latter.

With a sigh, Mujin stood up and blocked the man’s path.

“Sir, you can’t go in there.”

At this point, most people would turn back. No one, regardless of status, wanted to tussle with a young man like Mujin just to see the storage.

But this man was different. He didn’t stop, and in an instant, his form vanished like mist.

Startled, Mujin looked around and found the man behind him.

‘A martial artist!’

And not just any martial artist. This man was beyond the level of the amateurs from the Cheongseong sect. They might be strong and quick, but they didn’t know how to move like mist.

Mujin didn’t know much about martial artists, but he knew enough not to provoke a real one. He couldn’t ignore the man, nor could he stop him. While Mujin was fretting, the man leisurely examined the herbs in the storage.

“Old ginseng, magnolia bark, centipede, fenugreek… Hmm, even turtle shell. You don’t skimp on your herbs. That’s commendable.”

The man identified the rare and expensive herbs with ease. He seemed knowledgeable about medicine despite being a martial artist.

“Uh… yes, that’s right.”

“No rhinoceros horn, I see?”

“We have some. Over there.”

Mujin pointed to a black, cylindrical herb in the far corner of the storage. Unlike the other herbs, which were hung or stacked, this one was kept in a small box.

But the man shook his head.

“That’s not real rhinoceros horn. It’s water buffalo horn. Though I suppose even that was hard to come by.”

“There’s a difference between rhinoceros horn and water buffalo horn?”

“Yes. Water buffalo horn comes from the head of a black buffalo in India. But a true rhinoceros doesn’t have a horn on its head.”

“Then where?”

“The horn grows from the bridge of its nose. That’s the real rhinoceros horn.”

This was news to Mujin. Though curious, the man didn’t elaborate further and changed the subject.

“You don’t seem like a servant. What’s your connection to the Tang family clinic?”

“My father is the physician. I’m still learning.”

“Hmm.”

The man looked Mujin up and down, then focused on his hands.

“Your hands are rough for someone training to be a physician. Are you learning the sword in Cheongseong?”

Recently, Mujin had been handling metal and wood at Seok Jiseung’s forge every five or ten days. While carving was fine, working with metal always left his hands scarred.

“No, it’s just from doing various tasks.”

“Really? Your build is quite good. Stand up straight for me.”

When Mujin straightened his back and squared his shoulders, the man felt his shoulders and waist.

“Your muscles and bones are decent.”

“Really?”

If anyone else had said it, Mujin might have brushed it off. But coming from a martial artist, it was different.

Seeing Mujin’s voice brighten, the man chuckled.

“It’s not as impressive as you think. Just decent. Among ten people, you’d be first or second.”

“So, not particularly special.”

“For a layperson, yes. Most physicians are hunched over from a young age. You’re quite exceptional among them.”

Spending hours hunched over brewing medicine often left physicians with bent backs and shoulders. Once hunched, it was hard to straighten with age—a common occupational hazard.

“How much have you learned about medicine?”

“My father says I’ve learned almost everything, but I’m not ready to see patients yet. He’s still in good health.”

“Hmm.”

The man nodded and disappeared toward the front of the clinic. Either it was his turn, or he was leaving.

Mujin returned to his brewing. But before he could blink, a commotion erupted at the clinic’s entrance.

“Hey, can’t you see people are waiting here?”

Mujin quickly rushed to the front.

Inside the clinic was his father, Tang Jeseon’s domain, but outside was Mujin’s responsibility. It was his job to manage the queue and mediate disputes.

And the scene before him was the middle-aged man trying to enter the clinic out of turn.

A bearded official shouted, “Don’t cut in line! Do you think we have time to waste?”

The official and two disciples from the Cheongseong sect glared at the man, but he ignored them and opened the clinic door.

“Hey, don’t you understand words?”

The official moved to grab the man’s collar, but just then, someone emerged from the clinic, adjusting their clothes. The treatment must have just ended.

The patient was someone Mujin recognized—Jin Song, the head instructor of the Cheongseong sect’s Seongdo branch. The official, apparently acquainted with Jin Song, called for his help.

“Master Jin Song! This man is cutting in line. Could you make him leave?”

Contrary to the official’s expectations, Jin Song stiffened upon seeing the man’s face. He then bowed deeply, clasping his hands.

“Sir, it’s been a long time.”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Jin Song, a disciple of Hwang Ryeongja.”

“Hwang Ryeongja, ah, I remember now.”

The official was speechless.

Jin Song was the second-in-command at the Cheongseong sect’s Seongdo branch. He had been a first-rate martial artist for years and was rumored to be on the verge of breaking through to the pinnacle.

Naturally, Jin Song wielded considerable influence in the area.

If someone like Jin Song was bowing, the middle-aged man must be even more formidable. And he seemed to know Hwang Ryeongja personally.

The official, looking uneasy, asked Jin Song, “Who is he?”

The answer came from the man himself, not Jin Song.

“You should ask me who I am. I’m Lee Chung, a physician.”

The official’s eyes widened in shock.

Lee Chung was a name even non-martial artists had heard of.

“The Mysterious Doctor, Lee Chung!”

Mujin was just as surprised. He had thought the man was merely a martial artist with some medical knowledge, but it turned out he was a renowned figure.

As his nickname suggested, Lee Chung was an unusual character.

He was a martial artist who had surpassed the pinnacle, yet he called himself a physician. His medical skills were so exceptional that he was considered one of the three great physicians in the world.

He could have lived a life of luxury, but the Mysterious Doctor never stayed in one place, constantly wandering the world.

However, his fame wasn’t just due to his wanderlust but also the rumors surrounding him.

There were heartwarming tales of him curing patients other physicians had given up on. But there were even more sinister rumors.

The most chilling was that the Mysterious Doctor had killed dozens of physicians across the land, stealing their family medical secrets before disappearing. Hence, one of his nicknames was the Bandit Doctor.

The official began to back away cautiously. The Mysterious Doctor paid him no mind.

The real concern was Mujin. If the infamous Lee Chung, known for killing physicians, had appeared here, it could mean he was after Mujin’s father, Tang Jeseon.

Even the most skilled martial artist present, Jin Song, seemed to regard Goeui as a superior. If it ever came to a confrontation, Jin Song, who hadn’t yet surpassed the pinnacle of martial arts, would struggle to hold his own against Goeui, a master of the highest order.

“Who could possibly stand against Goeui?” he wondered.

The first person that came to mind was Jin Song’s mentor, Hwang Ryeong-ja, the revered leader of the Cheongseong Sect. Rumor had it that Hwang Ryeong-ja had also surpassed the pinnacle, so perhaps he could face Goeui.

But Dang Mujin couldn’t go to Hwang Ryeong-ja for help. Not only did he lack any personal connection, but Goeui was already making his way into the medical room.

In the blink of an eye, his father, Dang Jesun, could lose his life. There was no time to leisurely run to the Cheongseong Sect, and no one present could stop Goeui.

In desperation, Dang Mujin clutched the hem of Jin Song’s robe.

“Master Jin!”

But Jin Song shook his head.

“I have no solution either.”

“Then at least call for your mentor!”

“No. Even my mentor wouldn’t stand against Goeui.”

“Why not? Isn’t Goeui a villain who kills doctors?”

“Because my mentor owes his life to Goeui.”

Dang Mujin sank to the ground, feeling utterly helpless. Was there truly no way out?

Yet Jin Song patted his shoulder and spoke softly.

“Don’t worry too much. The Goeui I met was eccentric, but not the villain the rumors make him out to be.”

Dang Mujin waited anxiously.

After what felt like an eternity, Goeui emerged from the medical room. Thankfully, there were no bloodstains on his clothes.

Just as Dang Mujin was about to rush in and check on his father, Goeui stopped him with a firm grip on his shoulder.

“You there, come with me.”