Episode 83: The Return

Returning home after such a long time, Tang Mujin expected a warm welcome filled with kind words. Instead, his father, Tang Jeseon, seemed a bit displeased.

“Well, it’s good to see you back in one piece, but what kind of behavior is that for a man?”

“Excuse me?”

“When I was your age, I practically carried your mother everywhere I went. I’m not saying you have to go that far, but you let your wife come all the way here alone? Shame on you.”

…Wife?

Tang Mujin was taken aback, but his father continued with a hint of dissatisfaction.

“And what’s with that look on your face? I heard you told Seol-young to stay at home. Are you trying to back out after sweet-talking a young lady?”

Tang Mujin racked his brain.

‘I don’t recall sweet-talking her.’

It was Dan Seol-young who first expressed a desire to visit Sichuan. She had grown tired of Songshan and wanted to see the Dujiangyan irrigation system.

Yet, somehow, all he remembered was the decision to bring her to Sichuan. When they parted ways at the guild, he had told her to find the Tang family clinic for that reason.

He glanced at Dan Seol-young. She widened her eyes, then quickly averted her gaze.

Was she feigning ignorance, or was she genuinely clueless?

’…Could this have been planned?’

No, that couldn’t be. Sending her home first was his decision.

Even if she had ulterior motives, he wouldn’t have minded. He didn’t want to part ways with her either.

In fact, when she said she wanted to leave Songshan for Sichuan, he was secretly pleased, though he never showed it.

Tang Jeseon shifted the topic without further comment.

“Anyway, who’s that outside? Doesn’t seem like a guest.”

“That’s Myeong from Anhui Province. We happened to travel together, and he’ll be staying nearby for a while.”

“No need for him to stay nearby. We have a spare room; he should stay here. Daughter-in-law, could you show him the way?”

“Yes!”

Dan Seol-young, seemingly relieved to escape the awkward situation, quickly left the room.

Now, only the Tang father and son remained.

Tang Jeseon relaxed, having maintained a stern demeanor in front of Dan Seol-young.

“So, how was the journey? I heard that Yi Chong is quite a character, and I was worried.”

“It wasn’t always pleasant, but I met many people and saw many things. I also have something to show you.”

“What is it?”

Tang Mujin pulled out three books from his bundle. Tang Jeseon frowned as he read the titles.

They were clearly medical texts, but such books weren’t meant to be casually passed around. They were the pride and livelihood of medical families, akin to martial arts manuals for martial sects.

“Where did you get these? You shouldn’t covet other families’ medical knowledge.”

“I received them from Elder Yi Chong. And these aren’t just any medical texts.”

“There’s no such thing as a common or worthless medical text. Each one holds the knowledge to save lives.”

“That’s not what I meant. These are the medical texts of the Three Great Physicians of the world. The ‘Compendium of All Diseases’ by the Divine Physician, the ‘Toxicology Manual’ by the Demon Physician, and the unnamed book is Elder Yi Chong’s. These are the most precious medical texts in the world.”

Tang Jeseon stared at his son, unsure if he was joking. The claim was outrageous, yet his expression was dead serious.

”…Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

Tang Jeseon opened the books and skimmed through them. Despite his speed, the sheer volume took time to process.

Having spent his life studying medicine, he quickly recognized their value.

”…These are treasures. But they’re beyond the reach of ordinary people.”

Of the three texts, Tang Jeseon could only comprehend and apply about half. The ‘Compendium of All Diseases’ and parts of the ‘Toxicology Manual’ were within his grasp.

However, much of the Demon Physician’s text required internal energy to practice, beyond Tang Jeseon’s capabilities.

The ‘Toxicology Manual’ was more about poisons than medicine, so it wasn’t something he needed to delve into.

Tang Mujin spoke up for his father’s sake.

“Fortunately, I’ve already studied them, so I can help you understand them.”

Help him?

Tang Jeseon realized his son’s skills had surpassed his own.

He looked at Tang Mujin for a long time before slowly shaking his head.

”…No. It’s fine for now. I’ll ask when I need it.”

Tang Mujin’s words signified that he had stepped beyond the realm of ordinary people, despite being expected to live as a humble physician on the outskirts of the central plains.

As the saying goes, a talented person cannot remain hidden.

With his exceptional skills, Tang Mujin would inevitably make a name for himself across the land.

Tang Jeseon felt proud and impressed by his son’s achievements.

But more than joy, he felt a heavy heart.

For an extraordinary person, extraordinary challenges lie ahead.

Time had passed since returning home.

Though Tang Mujin’s medical skills surpassed Tang Jeseon’s, the latter remained the representative physician of the Tang family clinic. Tang Mujin and Dan Seol-young merely assisted with the work. There were two main reasons for this.

First, a physician’s prime comes late.

Unlike professions that require physical labor, a physician is often considered too young at thirty or forty.

Patients preferred the experienced Tang Jeseon over the younger Tang Mujin.

Moreover, Tang Jeseon had mastered the Divine Physician’s techniques, which were sufficient for most ailments.

With his skills and patients’ trust in his father, there was no need for Tang Mujin to push himself to the forefront.

Besides, stepping up would mean pushing his father into the background, something he didn’t want. He wished for his father to remain active and not become idle at a young age.

Second, Tang Mujin was too busy to focus solely on the clinic.

Even staying put, people constantly sought him out. At that moment, a blacksmith was pleading with him.

“Come on, can’t you spare a moment? You can finish brewing the medicine later.”

“If you let metal cool halfway, it ruins it. The same goes for medicine; it must be brewed to completion.”

“How much could the herbs cost? I’ll cover it all. Just come for a bit.”

Tang Mujin shot the blacksmith a displeased look, making him realize his mistake and apologize quickly.

“Ah, I misspoke. I’m sorry. I’m just in a hurry. It won’t take long, I promise. Can’t you spare a little time?”

Tang Mujin remained seated, stoking the fire under the medicine pot.

This wasn’t the first time blacksmiths tried to coax him.

They’d ask for a moment, but once inside the forge, things changed. The blacksmiths would surround him, forming a wall of bodies.

A moment would turn into a quarter-hour, then half an hour, and eventually two hours.

Tang Mujin, too, couldn’t resist the sight of glowing metal, often staying until sunset.

He had to draw a firm line, refusing to even stand up.

“I was at the forge just the other day. I told you I’d come back after two days.”

“It really won’t take long. Yesterday, Smith Song brought some rare stuff from his hometown, some powder called ‘Wusha,’ and mixed it with freshly refined iron. But something’s off.”

Tang Mujin chuckled.

“Of course something’s off. Mixing Wusha means you couldn’t melt it properly.”

When Tang Mujin pointed this out, the blacksmith’s eyes darted around.

“Uh… You know about Wusha?”

“It’s a black powder, twice as heavy as iron. It’s ground from the ends of tungsten stones in Yunnan. You can’t melt it with ordinary fire.”

“Ordinary fire? So you know how to melt it?”

“To melt Wusha, you’d need to go to the Shazhou region in Hubei and get their coal.”

“Is their coal different?”

“Unlike regular coal or wood, Shazhou’s coal burns with a yellow flame, not red. It doesn’t burn out but clumps together into a solid mass.”

As Tang Mujin explained, the blacksmith nodded, absorbed in the story.

“Such a thing exists? I’ve never heard of it.”

“Yes. If you set up the forge well, burn the coal generously, and work the bellows until you drop, you can melt Wusha. Then, melt the refined iron in a separate forge, add about two parts of Wusha, and hammer it well. You’ll get excellent steel, much harder and less brittle than regular steel.”

“Two parts? Just that little?”

“Too much of anything is bad. More isn’t always better.”

To outsiders, blacksmithing might seem uniform, but even among blacksmiths, there are specialties.

The world of blacksmiths isn’t simply divided into those who forge swords and those who make farming tools. In a bustling city like Luoyang, you’ll find blacksmiths who specialize in very specific tasks.

Some smiths in the lower reaches of the Yangtze River focus solely on the process of panning for iron sand, using large sieves to filter out impurities. Others spend their days hammering away at the refined metal, perfecting its quality.

How does one excel at panning? How does one create superior metal? These are the results of a lifetime of dedication by master craftsmen.

While the martial artists of the world remember only the swordsmiths, those very swordsmiths often had to bow and scrape before other blacksmiths to secure even a small amount of high-quality iron. To craft a fine sword, you need both exceptional skill and excellent iron. Without the latter, even the greatest skill can be rendered meaningless.

If there was one thing that set Tang Mujin apart from other blacksmiths, it was his craftsmanship. But equally important was his comprehensive understanding of every step from mining the ore to completing the sword.

The blacksmith who visited Tang Mujin knew just how remarkable this was and couldn’t help but express his admiration.

”…I thought you were just good with your hands, but where did you learn to make metal like that?”

Tang Mujin deflected the question with a casual response.

“Just as I traveled across the Central Plains meeting doctors, I met many blacksmiths and picked up a few things. Anyway, I’ll visit the forge tomorrow, so you can head back for today. If you have too much energy, try melting some ore.”

“Ah, understood.”

Just as many blacksmiths sought him out, so did doctors in need of new needles and martial artists in search of new swords.

Tang Mujin always kept a stock of needles ready, generously handing out a dozen or so to any doctor who came by. Seeing their faces reminded him of his mentor, and he thought that if these needles could save even one life, it was worth staying up all night to make them.

However, the swords desired by martial artists were a different matter. Pre-making swords without considering the user wouldn’t yield the best results, and once he started, it took a long time to complete.

Tang Mujin turned down most requests from martial artists, but he couldn’t easily refuse orders from the Qingcheng Sect. Eventually, he crafted a sword for Huang Lingzi, the head of the Chengdu branch of the sect.

Now it was time to make a sword for Jin Song, the chief instructor and second-in-command of the Chengdu branch. But Tang Mujin dragged his feet.

The timing wasn’t right for sword-making. The iron wasn’t good enough. Humid weather wouldn’t produce a fine blade, and so on. Yet, he assured Jin Song, “No matter what, I’ll have your sword ready by the end of the year.” This allowed Jin Song to wait patiently for Tang Mujin’s work.

Knowing that even someone of Jin Song’s stature had to wait, others hesitated to ask Tang Mujin for a sword. He used Jin Song as a shield to delay his work.

Even with his hands full with both medical and blacksmithing duties, Tang Mujin managed to squeeze in martial arts training, avoiding the public eye. Even if the day were twice as long, it wouldn’t be enough.

Though Tang Mujin’s busy life didn’t inconvenience others, there were still a few who viewed him with disdain.