The Je-won Baek Clan
It was the third day since Tang Mujin and Goiyi began their treatments.
They had already examined all the patients in the village at least once, so they were thinking it was about time to leave.
Then a man in his early forties entered the inn.
He wore a neatly pressed physician's robe, with only a faint layer of dust, and his skin was paler than most, suggesting a life without much hardship. Even his hands bore few wrinkles.
As the man looked around the inn and approached Goiyi and Tang Mujin, both immediately realized who he was.
From his clothes came that bittersweet yet fragrant scent of angelica root—something unique to seasoned physicians.
The physician bowed with cupped hands toward Goiyi.
"I am Seob Yong, a physician from the neighboring village of Je-won. Are you the physician who has been caring for the patients here?"
"That's me. Then you must be the one who occasionally visits this village?"
"That's right. Only once or twice a month though, so it's hardly enough to say I take proper care of them."
"Even so, many lives must have been saved thanks to your visits. You are being far too modest."
It was an uncharacteristic compliment from Goiyi. But Tang Mujin didn't find it excessive.
For a physician to leave his own clinic was no small matter.
He would need to carry close to fifty different herbs just to treat basic illnesses, while earning little and receiving much resentment.
On top of that, there was the mental burden of leaving his own village unattended, and the loss of rest days.
A physician who voluntarily made long house calls could safely be considered admirable.
Seob Yong spoke with easy humility.
"Today, as I entered the village, I expected to see patients lining up as usual, but no one welcomed me. For a moment I worried that I had done something wrong last time, but then I learned you had already cared for them. Thank you."
"I only watched over the patients you had already treated and claimed some credit."
Goosebumps rose on Tang Mujin's arms.
From anyone else it would be normal, but hearing Goiyi adopt a dignified tone and offer pleasantries was far too strange.
"You're too modest. The complexion of Madam So, the wife at the house with the crabapple tree, has greatly improved. I had been treating her for months with no progress."
"I don't recall Madam So."
"She had a prominent nose, with symptoms of knotted pulse and a smooth red tongue. The illness came after her third childbirth."
"Ah, now I remember. I gave her pills with licorice, rehmannia, and cinnamon twig. It was nothing outside the realm of women's disorders—tonifying the stomach was enough."
"I see, so that was the method. And if a patient shows both a smooth tongue and crane's-knee disease together?"
"It depends on the constitution, but crane's-knee doesn't heal quickly. Prescribe Yokkansan and watch the course for at least two years—"
Seeing their medical chatter dragging on, Tang Mujin quietly slipped out of the inn with Dan Seol-yeong.
They wandered the village for about half an hour before returning.
Seob Yong now gazed warmly at Goiyi, while Goiyi had already packed and was waiting for Tang Mujin.
"Pack your things. We'll be going with Physician Seob to the next village."
"Not on our way forward, but to the next village instead?"
"Yes. There's apparently a patient whose illness no one can identify."
"What are the symptoms?"
"Cold limbs, pale skin, and occasional coughing of blood."
"That's serious, but not unusual."
Hemoptysis was dangerous, but hardly rare.
"The problem is, every known prescription has been tried, yet there's been no improvement."
"Did they try Erchen Gunggui Decoction or Astragalus-Turtle Shell Brew?"
"Yes."
If they'd already attempted those, then they had indeed tried all the reasonable prescriptions.
Tang Mujin's curiosity stirred. For a physician, one unusual case was far more valuable than ten ordinary ones.
"Then let's go. I'd like to see what's going on too."
Tang Mujin's group and Seob Yong packed their belongings and set out for the next village.
***
By midday the following day, they arrived at Je-won.
"Can you see the patient right away?"
"Of course."
Seob Yong led them southward through the village.
There stood a grand estate enclosed by a seemingly endless wall. As they walked along it, Goiyi suddenly asked, as if something had struck him:
"Is this wall the Ten-Thousand-Man Wall?"
"Yes."
"Then the patient must be from the Je-won Baek Clan?"
"That's right. The clan head's only daughter is ill."
Tang Mujin interjected, curious.
"Do you know them?"
"Not personally. I asked because their family produced someone famous."
"Who?"
"The Sword King was the head of the Je-won Baek Clan."
"The Sword King?"
It was a name that sounded formidable. The greater one's skill, the shorter and simpler their epithet tended to be. Like "Divine Monk" or "Exalted Immortal."
By contrast, when an epithet got long, or was tied to a local place name, it usually belonged to nobodies.
Zayang Twin Killers, whom he had met in Juul Village, were perfect examples. Though they nearly killed him, still, they were small fry.
"The Sword King was a supreme master who perished in the last Great Righteous–Demonic War. He was both deeply enlightened and free of flaws in character, so he was widely respected."
"But I've never even heard of this Je-won Baek Clan."
Tang Mujin knew of several famous martial families—the Namgung clan, the Zhuge clan, the Murong clan, even the Hebei Peng clan.
But the Je-won Baek Clan was unfamiliar. He had never even heard of Je-won as a place until that very day.
"The Je-won Baek Clan used to be a small household. Your hometown must have had minor sects or families with fewer than ten fighters, right?"
"Plenty."
Tang Mujin could think of several such groups.
Their dream wasn't to become great clans, but at best to be considered a mid-tier sect.
But that dream was far out of reach. The reason was simple: the level of martial arts they taught was too low.
At best, their clan head might barely reach the threshold of first-class. Mid-tier sects were far beyond them.
Some martial artists mocked such sects as "third-rate nurseries" or "escort-training schools."
"And from such a small family, a supreme master emerged? Did they stumble upon some incredible secret manual?"
"No. He surpassed the wall of supreme mastery with the ordinary, unimpressive sword art handed down in the Baek family."
"…How?"
"With overwhelming talent."
"That's impossible."
The level of martial arts was a barrier few could overcome.
That was why so many martial artists from Sichuan's small sects abandoned their pride to become household disciples of the Qingcheng Sect—and many did find success.
Martial skill level mattered more than personal talent.
The gap between even a branch of Qingcheng and a small sect was immense. Between Qingcheng's main temple and a minor family, the disparity was unfathomable.
For a martial artist of a small sect to break through the wall that even the Qingcheng sect leader had not—it was absurd. The tale of a chick pecking an eagle to death sounded more believable.
"Yes. Absurd. But the Sword King was just such a genius. When he died, the grief was endless. He was the very hope of third-rate martial artists and obscure families on the fringes."
Goiyi ran his hand along the wall as he spoke.
"This wall of the Je-won Baek Clan, the Ten-Thousand-Man Wall, wasn't built by the clan itself. Back when the Sword King was alive, so many martial artists wanted to become his retainers that they couldn't even enter through the main gate. The retainers pooled their money and built this new wall. That's why it came to be called the Ten-Thousand-Man Wall."
"But the Je-won Baek Clan isn't famous now, is it?"
"A clan can't be built on one person's martial strength alone. For its renown to continue, the Sword King's descendants would also have to be geniuses on par with him. But there's no guarantee geniuses appear in every generation."
As they exchanged these bitter, realistic words, the group arrived at the main gate.
Seob Yong raised the heavy, weathered knocker and struck it several times. Bang, bang.
No one came for a long while. At last, an elderly servant shuffled out to greet them.
"Ah, Physician Seob. What brings you here?"
"The physician I've brought with me will examine Young Lady Baek's illness. Please take us to the clan head."
"Will you not accompany them, Physician Seob?"
"I've already been away from my own patients for two days. I must return quickly."
"Understood."
Seob Yong departed, while Tang Mujin's group followed the old servant into the Je-won Baek Clan's grounds.
The courtyard was broader than several of Shaolin's training fields combined, and the buildings were large, if plain.
But most of them were shuttered, covered in dust. A faint chill lingered through the compound. Clearly, few people lived within these walls anymore.
Tang Mujin imagined the Baek family in the days of the Sword King.
If a single man's name could raise a household to such heights, just how great must the Sword King have been?
At that moment, a man sweating heavily approached.
"What business brings you here?"
He still carried a sword case in hand, as if he had just finished practice.
The servant who had escorted them replied,
"This is the physician brought by Physician Seob, come to see the young lady's illness."
"Ah! Then you are important guests indeed. From here, I will escort you myself."
The old servant withdrew, and the sweating man wiped his brow with his sleeve before introducing himself.
"I am Baek Choo-seo, head of the Je-won Baek Clan. Though, to call me clan head is a bit much—there are fewer than ten people living within these walls."
"The number of people is no matter. I am Yi Gyun," said Goiyi, giving a false name.
He often used an alias with strangers, for far too many knew his real name in ill repute.
"An honor, Physician Yi. And these two with you?"
"The lad is a fledgling physician I picked up on the road. The young lady beside him just happened to tag along. You needn't concern yourself with either of them."
Goiyi introduced Tang Mujin and Dan Seol-yeong however he pleased.
Still, it wasn't entirely untrue, so both simply nodded with sullen expressions. They had no desire to bicker in front of strangers.
Baek Choo-seo led them into the only building kept clean.
At its far end was a spacious room.
When Baek Choo-seo opened the door, a girl of about seventeen or eighteen came into view, seated inside.
"My only daughter, Baek Hyang-a."
Her appearance was strikingly unusual.
Her skin was so pale she looked as if she had never seen sunlight. No—"pale" wasn't enough; "ashen" or even "translucent" fit better.
She wasn't thin from starvation, yet the veins stood starkly visible along the back of her hands.
Tang Mujin stared at her. Noticing this, Dan Seol-yeong glanced sidelong at his face.
Then she quietly stepped back, looked down at her own sun-darkened hand, and grew grave.
"What's wrong?" Mujin asked.
"Nothing. Don't mind me."
Goiyi studied Baek Hyang-a for a moment, recalling something, then stated flatly,
"I will take her pulse."
He held her wrist and closed his eyes.
After a long while, he gestured for Tang Mujin to come.
"You check as well."
Tang Mujin placed his fingers on her wrist. The first thing he noticed wasn't her pulse, but her temperature.
Though she had been sitting indoors, her skin was as cold as if she had wandered outside for hours in winter.
Her pulse was not irregular in speed, but it was weak and unstable. That was all the pulse itself revealed.
But Goiyi had held it much longer—no doubt probing with internal energy to sense deeper.
Tang Mujin did the same, sending a thread of energy into her meridians. And then he felt it:
His energy could not move past certain points in her channels.
Several major meridians were blocked—or perhaps severed.
Yin Valley, Qi Gate, Zhang Gate… what else is blocked?
He could not identify the illness. Baffled, he released her wrist.
Goiyi turned to Baek Choo-seo and asked,
"When did your daughter's body grow so cold?"
"She was normal as a child. Around the age of seven, perhaps, she began to feel chilled. I thought she would recover naturally in time, but she did not."
"From then on, did she suffer stomach pains whenever she ate cucumber, apple, millet, or mung beans?"
"Yes."
"And the coughing of blood began when she was twelve or thirteen?"
"Exactly. Did Physician Seob tell you this?"
"No. I have simply seen the same condition before."
"You know this illness? What is it?"
Hope lit Baek Choo-seo's eyes at last, thinking he might finally hear his daughter's diagnosis.
Goiyi answered.
"It is Severed Meridians (Jeolmyeok)."
[T/L: Read extra chapters on my ko-fi page "Pokemon1920" : https://ko-fi.com/pokemon1920 ]