The Strange Doctor Yi Chung
Tang Mujin was brewing medicinal decoctions behind the clinic as usual when a stranger appeared, wandering leisurely around the area.
The man looked to be about fifty. His neatly graying sideburns suited his dignified appearance, yet his face carried a mischievous air that belied his age.
Judging from his light traveling clothes, he wasn't an official. And since his face was unfamiliar in the vicinity of Cheongseong Sect, he clearly wasn't one of their martial disciples either.
Tang Mujin glanced at him now and then, but paid little mind. These days, such visitors were common.
Thanks to the recent influx of patients, many people were waiting their turn at the clinic.
Those who stayed near the clinic had little else to do but wander about, looking around as if hoping to find something novel.
Their behavior was always the same. First, they stood with arms crossed, watching Tang Mujin brew the decoctions. Once bored, they shifted to examining the medicinal herbs hanging from the eaves, and eventually drifted toward the storage room.
Of course, no outsider could be allowed into the herb storage, where precious ingredients were kept. Tang Mujin often had to stop people five or ten times a day from approaching it.
As expected, the middle-aged man now drew near the storage. Still seated, Tang Mujin raised his voice.
"Elder! You mustn't go into the storage!"
When he shouted so, people typically reacted in two ways: some glanced at him and retreated as if nothing happened, while others pretended not to hear and pressed on. This man belonged to the latter.
With a heavy sigh, Tang Mujin stood and blocked his way.
"Elder, you mustn't enter the storage."
At these words, people invariably turned back. No one, regardless of rank, would risk grappling with a young man just to peek inside a storage room.
But this man was different. Instead of stopping, his form dissolved like mist, and in the next instant he was behind Mujin.
"A martial artist!"
Not some half-trained youths learning the sword at Cheongseong's branch school, either. They were merely strong and agile; none knew such mist-like movement techniques.
Tang Mujin knew little of martial artists. But he did know that trifling with a true one could cost him his head in an instant.
Unable to stop or ignore him, Mujin wavered. Meanwhile, the man calmly looked inside the storage and muttered.
"Nohhoe. Daebokpi. Seonhakcho. Horopha. Hm… even Gui board. You don't spare coin on ingredients. Good attitude."
He named the rarest and most expensive herbs among the piles. Clearly a martial artist, yet with knowledge of medicine.
"Uh… yes, that's right."
"No rhinoceros horn here?"
"There is. Over there."
Mujin pointed toward a dark, round cylindrical ingredient placed in a small box deep inside. Unlike the others, it was carefully kept.
But the man shook his head.
"That's not true rhinoceros horn. It's water rhino horn. Still, acquiring even that must've cost a fortune."
"There's a difference between rhinoceros horn and water rhino horn?"
"Indeed. The latter comes from the horns of black oxen in Tianzhu. But the true xi has no horns on its head."
"Then where—?"
"Its horn grows from the bridge of its nose. That nasal horn is true rhinoceros horn."
Mujin had never heard this before. He showed curiosity, but the man did not elaborate further, instead changing the subject.
"From the looks of it, you're not a servant. What's your relation to the Tang family clinic?"
"My father is the physician. I'm still learning."
"I see."
The man scanned him up and down, then his hands.
"Rough hands for someone training to be a doctor. Do you perhaps study swordsmanship at Cheongseong?"
Lately Mujin often helped at Seok Jiseung's forge, handling iron or wood. Smooth carving left no marks, but ironwork always cut his hands.
"That's not it. I just do various tasks."
"Really? Your build suggested sword training. Straighten your posture."
Mujin straightened his back and shoulders. The man felt his shoulders and waist.
"Good bone and muscle."
"Truly?"
Had it been anyone else, he would have brushed it off, but praise from a martial artist was another matter. His voice brightened.
"Don't get ahead of yourself. I mean it's decent. Out of ten people, you'd rank first or second."
"So, not really special."
"Special for a commoner, yes. Most young doctors already stoop from long hours brewing decoctions. You're better than most in the profession."
Indeed, hours bent over steaming pots left physicians hunched. Once bent, backs rarely straightened again—an occupational hazard.
"How far have you studied medicine?"
"My father says I've learned most of it, but I'm not ready to treat patients. Besides, he's still vigorous."
"I see."
He nodded and vanished toward the front of the clinic—perhaps his turn had come, or he had given up waiting.
Mujin returned to the cauldron, but soon a commotion arose outside.
"Hey, can't you see people waiting?"
Mujin darted out. Inside the treatment room was his father Tang Jaeseon's domain; outside was his.
Managing patients' order and mediating disputes was also his duty.
And what he saw was the very man he'd spoken to, now trying to enter the treatment room out of turn.
A bearded official shouted:
"Don't cut the line! You think we're here with time to waste?"
Even two outer-sect disciples of Cheongseong glared at him. But the man, unfazed, opened the treatment room door as if ignoring a dog's bark.
"Hey. Do my words sound like nonsense to you?"
The official, as if ready to grab the middle-aged man by the collar, strode forward—just as someone stepped out of the treatment room, adjusting his clothes. His treatment had apparently just ended.
The patient was someone Tang Mujin also knew well: Jin Song, the chief instructor of Cheongseong Sect's Seongdo branch. The official, apparently acquainted with Jin Song, appealed to him for help.
"Chief Instructor Jin Song! This fellow is cutting the line instead of waiting his turn. Please drive him away!"
But instead of throwing the man out, as the official expected, Jin Song froze stiff the moment he saw the middle-aged man's face. Then he bent at the waist and clasped his hands respectfully.
"Elder. It has been a long time."
"Who are you?"
"I am Jin Song, disciple of Hwang Ryeongja."
"Hwang Ryeongja, hm. Ah, now I remember."
The official was struck speechless.
Jin Song was the second-in-command of the Cheongseong Sect's Seongdo branch. He had entered the ranks of first-class martial artists years ago, and many believed that with luck he might one day break through the wall of the peak realm.
Naturally, Jin Song's influence in the area was considerable.
If even someone like Jin Song bowed, the middle-aged man had to be far above him. What's more, he seemed to be personally acquainted with Hwang Ryeongja himself.
The official, looking uneasy, asked Jin Song,
"By chance… who might that gentleman be?"
The answer did not come from Jin Song but from the man himself.
"If you want to know who I am, you should ask me directly. I am Yi Chung, a physician."
The official's eyes went round as saucers.
The name Yi Chung was so famous that even those outside the martial world, like himself, had heard of it.
"The Strange Doctor Yi Chung!"
Tang Mujin was just as shocked. He had thought the man merely a martial artist with some knowledge of medicine, but a far more famous name had suddenly revealed itself.
As the epithet "Strange Doctor" suggested, Yi Chung was an unusual figure in every way.
Though he called himself a physician, he was also a martial artist who had surpassed the wall of the peak realm. And it wasn't as though his medical skill was lacking; he was counted among the three greatest doctors in the world.
He could have enjoyed wealth and glory simply by staying in one place, but instead he wandered endlessly across the land.
What made him infamous, however, were not his travels but the rumors surrounding him.
There were plenty of heartwarming tales of him curing patients whom other doctors had given up on. But there were even more sinister ones.
The most dreadful rumor claimed that Yi Chung had roamed the Central Plains killing dozens of physicians, then stolen their treasured family medical texts before vanishing. Because of this, one of his nicknames was the Bandit Doctor.
The official slowly backed away, lowering his stance. Yet Yi Chung paid him no mind.
The real problem was Tang Mujin. If the notorious Strange Doctor Yi Chung, famous for killing physicians, had come here, did it not mean his father Tang Jaeseon's life was in danger?
Worse, the strongest martial artist present, Jin Song, seemed to regard Yi Chung as a superior. Even if Jin Song had turned hostile, he had yet to surpass the wall of the peak realm, making it impossible for him to oppose someone like Yi Chung.
Who could possibly stop the Strange Doctor?
The first to come to mind was Jin Song's master, Hwang Ryeongja, the Seongdo branch leader of Cheongseong Sect.
Rumor had it Hwang Ryeongja too had surpassed the wall of the peak realm. Perhaps he could stand against Yi Chung.
But Tang Mujin could not go running to fetch him. Not only did he lack any connection to Hwang Ryeongja, but Yi Chung was already stepping into the treatment room.
In the blink of an eye, his father Tang Jaeseon's head could be cut off. There was no time to dash to Cheongseong, and no one here could stop him.
In desperation, Tang Mujin grabbed Chief Instructor Jin Song's sleeve.
"Chief Instructor!"
But Jin Song shook his head.
"I have no way either."
"Then at least the branch leader!"
"No. Even my master would not oppose him."
"Why not? The Strange Doctor is a villain who murders physicians!"
"Because my master himself once owed his life to the Strange Doctor."
Tang Mujin collapsed onto the ground. Was there truly nothing to be done?
Yet Jin Song placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke quietly.
"There's no need to worry too much. The Strange Doctor may be eccentric, but he is not as wicked as the rumors claim."
Still, Tang Mujin waited in anxious silence.
After the time it took to burn one stick of incense, Yi Chung emerged from the treatment room. Thankfully, no blood stained his clothes.
Tang Mujin was just about to rush inside to check on his father when Yi Chung laid a hand on his shoulder.
"You there. Come with me."