Episode 8: The Mysterious Doctor Lee Chung
“What?”
Turning around, Tang Mujin found himself face-to-face with the enigmatic doctor, Lee Chung. He froze, his body stiffening instinctively.
Just moments ago, Lee Chung had seemed like any other martial artist with an interest in medicine and herbs. But now, hearing the name “Mysterious Doctor,” he appeared entirely different—a notorious killer rumored to have slain dozens of physicians.
Tang Mujin glanced nervously into the clinic. His father, Tang Jeseon, was adjusting his robe and preparing to see the next patient. Thankfully, his father was safe. It seemed the doctor didn’t kill every physician he encountered.
In a voice barely above a whisper, Tang Mujin asked, “Why did you call for me?”
“I heard from Doctor Tang that there’s a blacksmith nearby.”
“Yes, there is.”
In truth, there were a couple of small forges in the area, but it seemed unlikely that someone like the Mysterious Doctor would visit a local blacksmith for simple tools. There was only one forge that might interest him—Seok Jiseung’s.
“Could you guide me there?”
“Of course.”
Not wanting to upset the doctor, Tang Mujin maintained a calm facade as he led the way.
As they entered the forge, Seok Jiseung looked at Tang Mujin with a questioning expression, as if to ask who this stranger was.
Tang Mujin hesitated to introduce him as the Mysterious Doctor. While it might sound impressive, the name carried a sinister connotation. If the doctor took offense, it could cost him his life.
Having grown quite friendly with Seok Jiseung through frequent visits to the forge, Tang Mujin spoke candidly.
“This is Lee Chung. He has some business here, so I brought him along.”
He mouthed the word “martial artist,” hoping Seok Jiseung would understand.
Seok Jiseung showed little reaction. Despite the doctor’s notoriety, not everyone knew of him, and even if they did, there were countless people named Lee Chung in the world.
“What brings you here? Everything we have is displayed up front.”
“I’m here to place an order.”
“What kind of item are you looking for?”
“I heard from Doctor Tang that you made his acupuncture needles.”
“Needles?”
“Yes. I came to see the famous Doctor Tang, only to find his skills ordinary but his tools extraordinary. I want you to make me some needles—about thirty, half long and half short. More would be even better. I’ll pay extra if you make more.”
The doctor flicked something small from a silk pouch, sending it spinning through the air until it landed in Seok Jiseung’s palm. Tang Mujin’s eyes widened at the unexpected glint of gold.
“Gold…?”
He thought he might be mistaken, but Seok Jiseung’s equally wide eyes confirmed it. It was indeed gold.
Seok Jiseung was so taken aback by the sudden appearance of gold that he couldn’t find his words.
The doctor, however, interpreted the silence differently.
“Is it not enough?”
“What?”
“That’s all the money I have on me right now. Consider it a down payment. Once you make the needles, I’ll pay the rest when I pick them up. Can you have them ready by the end of the year?”
The doctor’s demeanor was surprisingly courteous. From the rumors, Tang Mujin had expected threats and violence if the order wasn’t fulfilled.
Moreover, the deadline he proposed was generous. Spring hadn’t even ended yet, and he was talking about the end of the year.
It seemed the doctor believed the needles required an elaborate process to create.
However, Seok Jiseung had something important to clarify before discussing price or timing.
“The payment is more than sufficient. The deadline is generous too. But I didn’t make those needles.”
The doctor frowned slightly.
“Doctor Tang said you did.”
“I helped, but it was Mujin here who made them.”
“Mujin? Who’s that?”
Seok Jiseung pointed to Tang Mujin, who stood behind the doctor. The doctor’s expression turned curious.
“This kid claims to be Doctor Tang’s son. I saw him brewing medicine earlier.”
“That’s right.”
“But how could he make needles? Where would a physician learn blacksmithing?”
”…I don’t know either. But among the people I know, Tang Mujin is the best with metal.”
The doctor chuckled.
“They say all sorts of strange things happen in Sichuan. I guess in Sichuan, physicians forge metal.”
With that, the doctor turned to Tang Mujin.
“It doesn’t matter who makes them. You’re Tang Mujin, right? Make me the needles. I’ll pay you with that gold.”
Gold. An incredible windfall.
Suddenly, the doctor was no longer a fearsome killer in Tang Mujin’s eyes. He was a generous customer offering a relaxed deadline and paying in gold.
Thinking about it, the world was full of baseless rumors. Perhaps the stories about the Mysterious Doctor were just that—stories.
Tang Mujin quickly bowed.
“I’ll make them for you, no problem.”
“When should I come back? Would next spring be alright?”
“No need. Why don’t you have a meal and come back? They’ll be ready before sunset.”
“Before sunset? Today?”
The doctor’s expression turned incredulous, as if he’d heard something impossible.
“I don’t want shoddy work. I need them thin and strong, like Doctor Tang’s.”
“If anything, they’ll be better. Don’t worry.”
“Do you have some pre-made?”
“I’ll make them now.”
Despite Tang Mujin’s confident assurance, the doctor remained skeptical, likely thinking it was just a sales pitch.
“How is that possible? To make needles that thin, you’d have to draw out hundreds of wires, grind each one, and select the ones that don’t bend or break. It’s impossible to finish today.”
That was the usual method, of course. But Tang Mujin wasn’t your average blacksmith.
“I can do it.”
”…I need to see how you plan to do this.”
At Tang Mujin’s signal, Seok Jiseung quickly stoked the forge.
He then worked the bellows vigorously, and once the forge was hot enough, he placed a fist-sized lump of metal into the fire.
Though less material would suffice for needles, working with too little metal made the process cumbersome and difficult.
Tang Mujin picked up a hammer from the corner of the forge. His calloused hands had long since healed.
Frequent visits to the forge had added some muscle to his frame.
Though still lacking, he no longer needed Seok Jiseung to finish the work for him.
The metal soon glowed a bright yellow. Seok Jiseung removed it with tongs and placed it on the anvil, securing it so it wouldn’t bounce away.
“He’s gotten quite skilled at assisting.”
Tang Mujin lifted the heavy hammer and brought it down with force.
A shower of sparks erupted, scattering like fireworks.
The sparks were the impurities and ash clinging to the metal, being blasted away in one strike.
In his dreams, the dwarf Grombel had loved these sparks. After spending so much time in the forge, Tang Mujin understood why.
The hotter the metal and the harder the strike, the more sparks flew.
These sparks were like those who seized a single opportunity and burned with all their might. What blacksmith could dislike them?
As the hammering continued, the sparks gradually diminished and then ceased.
Thud, thud, thud. The lump of metal flattened.
Seok Jiseung used a chisel and a small hammer to create a deep groove in the center of the flattened metal, then folded it with force.
Tang Mujin hammered the folded metal again. Hammer, fold, hammer.
The metal, now a dull red, went back into the forge and came out again. The hammering resumed.
The metal was folded seven times. By then, Tang Mujin was drenched in sweat, his lean muscles glistening.
“I think that’s enough folding. Let’s draw it out.”
“Alright.”
Thud, thud. The metal became thinner and longer.
The lump of metal began to reveal its hidden form as wire.
While the two blacksmiths worked, the doctor watched silently.
Beautiful.
Lee Chung had seen many blacksmiths at work during his travels. He had even watched skilled blacksmiths make needles.
The process Tang Mujin and Seok Jiseung used to create wire was no different from any other: fold, press, draw out, cut, and grind. That was all.
Yet, there was a peculiar beauty in their work.
It was the kind of beauty that transcended experience and discipline, a beauty anyone who reached a certain level of mastery could exhibit.
Just as a martial artist who has reached the pinnacle might not care for aesthetics, yet the path of their sword could inspire awe in others.
This was a scene that no third-rate swordsmith could imitate, nor any amateur blacksmith replicate.
And the mastermind behind it all was none other than Tang Mujin.
Seok Jiseung, fully aware of this, was doing his best to remain inconspicuous, focusing solely on assisting. He was making every effort to hide his presence rather than assert it.
Before long, the two of them began to grind down the short lengths of wire they had cut.
If it had been wire made by any ordinary blacksmith, it would have bent and snapped countless times, requiring a return to the forge. But the wire they crafted held its shape, neither bending nor breaking, slowly taking form.
“It’s done.”
In what seemed like no time at all, thirty needles were completed. Just as Tang Mujin had predicted, the sun was perched on the horizon. The speed of their work was nothing short of astonishing.
“Hmm.”
The eccentric Yi Chung took the needles and examined them closely.
They were as fine as a badger’s hair, as sturdy as a boar’s bristle, and as flexible as a horse’s mane. Compared to the items Tang had previously possessed, these were in no way inferior. In fact, they were superior.
‘There’s no trick to the polishing. It’s a matter of skill in making the wire. Because the wire was made thin, it didn’t take long to polish, and the quality was so good that the needles were completed without damage.’
Thick things are strong, and thin things are weak and fragile—that’s the way of the world.
Yet Tang Mujin had managed to defy this logic, creating something both thin and strong.
Among the three present, none were unaware of how difficult it was to combine such opposing qualities.
Tang Mujin received a small gold ingot from Seok Jiseung.
He had made good use of the coins Seok Jiseung had given him for brewing herbal medicine last time. But gold, not silver, was an unexpected windfall.
As he pondered how much to share with Seok Jiseung, the eccentric spoke up.
“I asked for good items and got a good show as well. And it was all done so quickly.”
Tang Mujin felt a pang of concern. He worried that finishing the work too quickly might be seen as a lack of effort.
There are surprisingly many people who argue, “If you finished quickly, you didn’t work hard. If you didn’t work hard, you deserve less pay.”
Doctors often prescribe time-consuming herbal concoctions to avoid such disputes.
Fortunately, the eccentric was not one of those fools.
He turned to Seok Jiseung and said, “The items are better than expected, and the spectacle was unexpected. It’s only right to pay more. Next time I pass through Sichuan, I’ll give you a gold ingot as well.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Seok Jiseung bowed deeply. From where Tang Mujin stood, he could see the wide grin on Seok Jiseung’s face.
“And you, Tang Mujin.”
Tang Mujin’s heart raced. If Seok Jiseung was promised extra compensation, perhaps he too would receive a little bonus.
‘Maybe a couple of silver ingots?’
But what the eccentric said next was entirely unexpected.
“You don’t seem like someone destined to spend your life brewing herbal medicine in a backwater like Sichuan. Would you consider becoming my apprentice?”