Episode 96: People on the Edge
Traitor. A person who plots rebellion.
Just two characters, yet they weighed heavily on my chest.
Getting entangled with those plotting a rebellion is akin to throwing your life into a gamble. If you succeed, you might become a hero, but if you fail, you lose everything.
No, calling it a mere loss doesn’t do it justice. Entire families, even whole villages, have been wiped out for less.
There are countless people who can’t hold public office simply because they hail from regions where rebellions occurred centuries ago. The tax rates in these areas are exorbitantly high, and even when people starve, the officials turn a blind eye.
It’s easy to imagine the steep price paid by those who dared to rebel.
That’s why Tang Mujin hesitated, unable to answer immediately.
The three swordsmen of Nogun didn’t rush him. In fact, they seemed intrigued that he hadn’t outright refused.
Namgung Myung nudged Tang Mujin and whispered, “If it’s too much, just say no. I’ll come up with a new technique myself.”
Tang Mujin almost retorted with a sarcastic comment but held his tongue. Namgung Myung’s words implied that even if they ended up trapped on the cliff, he wouldn’t blame Tang Mujin for refusing the offer.
”…I don’t know.”
Tang Mujin’s deliberation stretched on, perhaps for a quarter of an hour.
The three swordsmen of Nogun waited for his response, then retreated to the top of the cliff, whispering among themselves. Their conversation was too quiet to make out.
After a while, they lowered a rope down the cliff.
Tang Mujin and Namgung Myung exchanged puzzled glances, surprised by the sudden appearance of the rope despite not having accepted the offer.
One of the swordsmen, with a round face, peeked over the edge and spoke.
“Just come up. We don’t need your medical skills.”
“What?”
“Just like we initially proposed, we’ll pull you up for a small fee.”
”…Didn’t you say there were sick people?”
“Don’t worry about it. We don’t want to complicate young lives with unreasonable demands. Let’s pretend the second offer never happened.”
It was a relief, but Tang Mujin found the situation odd and hesitated to ask, “Then what about the patients?”
“Don’t worry. Someone will come to treat them soon.”
“That’s good to hear.”
Namgung Myung, feeling unburdened, grabbed the rope firmly.
The three swordsmen pulled him up without any tricks. The rope came down again for Tang Mujin.
Unlike Namgung Myung, who seemed carefree, Tang Mujin couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.
How could they so easily retract their request for treating traitors?
No, if an outsider discovered the existence of traitors, wouldn’t it be normal to silence them?
Moreover, why did Haryeong ask him to treat traitors? Did she think it was okay for him to get caught up in a rebellion and die?
That couldn’t be it. Haryeong knew Tang Mujin’s medical skills were beyond ordinary. She understood that his death would set back the medical field in the martial world by several steps.
These questions weighed heavily on his mind, but there was one more pressing question he needed to resolve.
The rope swayed gently before him. The three swordsmen and Namgung Myung watched him from above.
“What are you thinking? Hurry up and come up.”
Tang Mujin didn’t grab the rope. Instead, he asked the swordsmen, “The person you mentioned who will come soon—what’s their name?”
The round-faced man chuckled. “No need to worry. They’re a much better doctor than you.”
”…Is it perhaps the mysterious Lee Chung?”
The man didn’t answer, but his raised eyebrow was enough. Sometimes silence is affirmation.
Tang Mujin finally grasped the rope and spoke, “I’ll treat them. Please take me to the patients.”
The elusive doctor who would never return to Nogun Mountain.
The people waiting for the old master.
‘What would the old master have done?’
The answer was simple. He would have treated them without hesitation.
Haryeong’s request no longer mattered.
In the vast martial world, if there was only one doctor who could find them, it had to be Tang Mujin.
Of course, Tang Mujin couldn’t completely detach himself from the situation.
”…But please, don’t let it be known that I came.”
The three swordsmen found his reaction amusing and laughed.
The three swordsmen introduced themselves briefly. The plump, round-faced one was Pyochung. The tall, lanky one was Danglang. The short, hairy, and sturdy one was Sanjeo.
Ladybug, Mantis, and Wild Boar. Clearly, these weren’t their real names. They were likely nicknames based on their appearances.
But for Tang Mujin and Namgung Myung, it was convenient. Easy-to-remember nicknames.
The three swordsmen led Tang Mujin and Namgung Myung along a precarious path.
Even as they walked on a path that seemed ready to collapse at any moment, their steps were light and fearless.
They even turned back naturally while walking the dangerous path. How long had they been traversing this route?
”…So, they’re not the kind of traitors you think they are.”
“I understand.”
The traitors Pyochung spoke of were different from what Tang Mujin had imagined.
They weren’t ‘people plotting rebellion,’ but rather ‘people trapped in Nogun Mountain for the crime of rebellion.’
“They’re lucky to be alive.”
“They weren’t the ones who instigated the rebellion. The real instigators and their close associates are all dead. The people in Nogun Mountain are distant relatives, people from the same or neighboring villages… people like that.”
“Some commit crimes and live comfortably, while others pay for crimes they didn’t commit. It’s a cruel world.”
Namgung Myung’s voice trailed off, sympathy evident in his tone.
Pyochung gave a melancholic smile.
“No, the cruelest part isn’t that. The cruelest part is that they never even lived in the same village as the real traitors.”
”…What?”
“The people in the village we’re heading to aren’t the ones exiled to Nogun Mountain. They’re the descendants of those exiled.”
“Descendants? Just how long ago did this rebellion happen?”
“I don’t know. And neither do they.”
Come to think of it, Tang Mujin hadn’t heard of any recent rebellions. Not that he was privy to all the news across the martial world.
And not knowing the timing of the rebellion implied one thing.
It happened so long ago that no one alive could remember it clearly.
“If it’s a rebellion no one remembers, it must have happened before the current dynasty, right?”
“Probably.”
The thought of people trapped in Nogun Mountain was already pitiful. Tang Mujin asked Pyochung, “Then, since it wasn’t against the current royal family, couldn’t they be pardoned?”
Pyochung shook his head.
“Pardon? No. They’re a cautionary tale. A powerful reminder that rebellion won’t be forgiven, even if the world changes. Or maybe they’re not even that. Perhaps they’ve just been forgotten. No one from the royal family has ever come, so they’ve likely been forgotten.”
Tang Mujin realized something.
He’d heard stories of people exiled or vanished due to rebellion, but never of anyone returning.
He’d never met anyone who knew what happened to them or cared about them.
And now, Tang Mujin and Namgung Myung were approaching the reality behind those stories. A legacy of inherited punishment.
A tragic tale. Yet, at the same time, Tang Mujin felt a small sense of relief. If they were truly forgotten, treating them might not lead to punishment.
Namgung Myung asked Pyochung, “If they’ve been forgotten, can’t they request a pardon?”
“A pardon request? How?”
“There must be officials nearby. I heard there’s a magistrate governing this area.”
Pyochung chuckled as if he’d heard a funny story.
“If you were the magistrate, would you risk your neck to relay a pardon request for traitors to the emperor?”
”…”
It’s a dangerous act with no reward.
Even if it’s not against the current dynasty, no official would stick their neck out for the descendants of traitors.
“Then, what about subtly asking others? There’s a village called Nakseong at the entrance of Nogun Mountain. I happen to have a small connection with the village chief.”
In response to Namgung Myung’s question, Danglang replied curtly.
“Nakseong Village? You mean the village at the entrance of Nogun Mountain?”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever seen them work?”
Who lives without working?
But Tang Mujin and Namgung Myung had never seen anyone in that village doing any real work. In hindsight, it was odd.
”…No.”
“Then why do you think that village seems so prosperous?”
Namgung Myung looked puzzled, his eyes darting around, while Tang Mujin asked Danglang, “Is there a connection between Nakseong Village’s prosperity and the people living inside Nogun Mountain?”
“Yes. They exploit the fact that the people inside Nogun Mountain can’t leave, buying herbs at dirt-cheap prices and selling them outside. They’re like leeches.”
Pyochung, who had been listening, added, “They treat the people inside Nogun Mountain like livestock. Just as you keep chickens in a coop to collect eggs, they keep the people inside to harvest herbs.”
Dang Mujin exclaimed as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.
“We need to inform the chief immediately!”
“But half of the money from Nakseong Village ends up in the chief’s pocket. What good would it do to tell him?” Pyo Chung replied, and Dang Rang continued the conversation.
“If anything, the chief would be the one to keep people locked in Nakseong Village, using any excuse to report that the rebels are escaping and that innocent people might be influenced. Nakseong Village and the chief are in cahoots.”
With no one to help and many watching, the situation felt suffocating.
Dang Mujin turned to Pyo Chung and asked, “So, are the people living in Nogunsan doomed to stay trapped here forever without any hope?”
“Hope?” Pyo Chung tilted his head thoughtfully. “It’s not that there’s no hope. But whether you can call a method everyone has given up on ‘hope’ is another question.”
The group of five stopped at a relatively flat area halfway up a peak. From there, they could finally see the village where the people of Nogunsan lived.
“Welcome to Nogun Village.”
The villagers lived in makeshift houses, roughly built and scattered like grains of rice thrown carelessly. The village seemed to have about two hundred people.
Due to the lack of space, the houses were not clustered together but were instead spread out unevenly. Some were perilously close to the cliffs, looking dangerously unstable.
Dang Mujin and Namgung Myung followed Nogun Samgeom into the village.
The villagers were all emaciated, looking as if they hadn’t eaten in days. Their clothes were dirty and tattered, and their faces showed no sign of spirit or motivation.
“This is the most destitute and miserable village I’ve ever seen,” Dang Mujin remarked.
“If Nogunsan were a good place to live, they wouldn’t have dumped the rebels here,” Nogun Samgeom replied.
Yet, the children’s eyes were still bright. Some stared wide-eyed at Dang Mujin and Namgung Myung, curious about the newcomers, while others ran to their parents, frightened by the strangers.
Interestingly, none of the children seemed afraid of Nogun Samgeom. He blended naturally with the villagers, a curious sight indeed.
Nogun Samgeom led Dang Mujin and Namgung Myung into a small hut.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
They had nibbled on some herbs along the way, but it wasn’t enough to fill their stomachs. When Dang Mujin and Namgung Myung nodded, Pyo Chung went outside and returned with a handful of coarsely ground grain.
He mixed the grain with water to make a dough and baked it over a small fire. It had little flavor, but hunger made it palatable.
While Dang Mujin and Namgung Myung ate, Dang Rang and Sanjeo took the goods they had seized from the bandits outside. A few villagers approached hesitantly, and Dang Rang and Sanjeo distributed the items among them. It seemed they had intended to share the spoils with the villagers from the start.
Dang Mujin asked Pyo Chung, “Why do you and the others stay in Nogunsan? From what you say, it doesn’t seem like you’re trapped here like the villagers.”
Instead of answering, Pyo Chung simply smiled and stood up.
“We can talk about that later. Right now, we have patients to attend to.”
Turning around, Dang Mujin saw a line of people at the entrance of the hut.
All the villagers looked unwell, but these newcomers seemed particularly severe. Even Dang Mujin, who prided himself on having treated many patients, was taken aback.
However, he didn’t show it. No patient would trust a doctor who lacked confidence.
With a voice full of feigned—or perhaps genuine—confidence, Dang Mujin said, “Now, what seems to be the problem?”
After all, if Dang Mujin couldn’t cure them, no doctor in the world could.