Heart disease
Returning to the Tang Family Medical House and explaining the situation, Tang Jaeseon more or less accepted it and let it pass.
But it was different for Dan Seol-yeong.
"What? We have to wait again? What kind of job are you going to help with?"
Seol-yeong quickly understood what kind of person Ha Ryeong was. There was even a good comparison at hand—Shaolin's high monks.
If someone with authority on par with those high monks asked Tang Mujin for help, refusing would be difficult.
But rational understanding and emotional dissatisfaction are two entirely different matters.
Although Seol-yeong was rather easy-going by nature, she couldn't hide her disappointment.
"We already came to Chengdu first and waited for months, and then after you were trapped underground at Mount Emei, I waited more than another month. And now again?"
"Uh… that's how it turned out."
"Unbelievable… No, wait. Tell me the whole story first. What exactly are you going for?"
"It's probably because of medicine. He's asking me to continue the work the old man was doing."
Seol-yeong became more cautious at that. She knew that the matter of medicine was Mujin's inverse scale.
"Who's sick?"
"I didn't hear that. But it won't be just looking after a few people with minor ailments. Either it's many people, or someone with a serious illness—or both."
"And the place?"
"Most likely Chongqing."
Seol-yeong fell silent for a long time, perhaps trying to gauge how long it might take for Mujin to return.
Mujin gently suggested,
"It won't be over in a day or two. How about visiting the waterwheels at Dujiangyan while you wait?"
When they left Mount Song, Seol-yeong had said she wanted to see the waterwheels at Dujiangyan once they were in Sichuan. As far as Mujin knew, she hadn't been there yet.
But instead of nodding, Seol-yeong glared.
"Do you really think I came all the way to Sichuan just to see waterwheels? I only came because it's your hometown!"
At her blunt words, Jesun chuckled in satisfaction, while Namgung Myeong gave a small whistle.
But Mujin and Seol-yeong kept on talking.
"I figured as much… but you are at least interested in the waterwheels, right?"
"Of course I am. But I'm not in the mood to go now."
"Then what do you want to do?"
"I'll go to Chongqing with you."
As long as she could be with him, Seol-yeong didn't care whether it was Chengdu or Chongqing.
Mujin hesitated for a moment, but soon nodded. He also wanted to be with her.
"Shall we do that then?"
But a dissenting voice came immediately. It was Namgung Myeong.
"No. This time you'd better not come."
Seol-yeong scowled.
"Why?"
"Because Mujin's condition isn't normal yet. Even if I keep an eye on him, I can't watch him every second. What if something happens in that brief moment?"
At those words, anxiety surged in Mujin.
What if, in a moment of lost control, he swung a sword at Seol-yeong? He didn't even want to imagine it. But Seol-yeong wasn't about to back down easily.
"That's going to be the same forever, isn't it? Are you saying I should live apart from Mujin for the rest of my life?"
"No. Once this job is finished, his condition might improve."
"You have a method?"
"Yes."
As Seol-yeong faltered, unable to decide, Jesun added a word from the side.
"Daughter-in-law. It's not because you feel uncomfortable here, is it?"
Jesun didn't care much about Mujin traveling around, but he could see Seol-yeong's lingering concern.
In the end, Seol-yeong decided to remain in Chengdu.
***
Mujin and Namgung Myeong immediately set out for Chongqing.
Though only a few months had passed since their return to Sichuan after wandering all over the Central Plains, it felt like a long time since they'd left Sichuan.
They arrived in Chongqing a little earlier than expected and headed straight for Deungseonru.
The Deungseonru master, unlike before, greeted Mujin with a face full of tension.
"It has been a while. You look much better. May I ask what brings you…?"
"Please contact Lord Ha Ryeong."
Mujin and Namgung Myeong were guided to a private room on the third floor of the pavilion.
Since Ha Ryeong was involved, it was certain the best room had been prepared, so there was no need to hesitate.
They ate while waiting, and just as they finished, Ha Ryeong arrived. This time, he hadn't brought Hongmyeon Nogae or Jang Sang Chaeju with him.
"You came earlier than expected. I thought it would take you a few more days."
"Since it had to be done anyway, it's better to finish quickly. So then, what is it you want me to do?"
"Take care of patients."
Just as expected. Mujin nodded.
"Understood. Where do I go?"
Last time in Chongqing, Ha Ryeong had led the Hao Clan in helping the poor.
So Mujin naturally thought the patients would be from the Hao Clan in Chongqing. A small inn or a guesthouse room would suffice.
But Ha Ryeong said something unexpected.
"Go to Mount Lao-jun."
"…Pardon?"
"Northeast from here, cross into Hubei, and you'll find a place called Mount Lao-jun."
Namgung Myeong looked unfamiliar with the name, but Mujin knew it. That was why he was surprised.
Among doctors and herbalists, Mount Lao-jun was famous.
Physicians revered Shennong of the Three Sovereigns and Five Emperors above all. It was said he had tasted every herb and poison in the world and recorded their properties.
And Mount Lao-jun was where Shennong was said to have stayed and practiced medicine.
For that reason, the mountain was renowned for its abundance of herbs and the quality of its medicinal plants.
While ordinary angelica root fetched thirty coins a bundle, the same from Mount Lao-jun could easily sell for eighty.
One might think herbalists would lie and say their herbs came from Mount Lao-jun, but very few dared to. Though the plants looked the same, the difference in efficacy was too great.
Any doctor fooled by such a lie wasn't worthy of the title.
Still, herbalists avoided Mount Lao-jun despite its famed herbs.
The terrain was so treacherous, and the soil so poor for farming, that there were barely any villages nearby.
Even if one walked for days to reach the mountain, they'd have to risk their lives on cliffs to gather herbs. And to sell them, they'd need to carry heavy loads for three to five days just to get back out. It was far more profitable to gather common herbs from a nearby hill.
"There are people in need of treatment on Mount Lao-jun? People actually live there?"
"Yes. Few and far between, but not none. There's a hidden village. Go there and treat them."
"I thought you would ask me to care for the patients here in Chongqing."
"Chongqing is no small city. There are many patients, but just as many doctors. Mount Lao-jun is different. If I don't send someone, no physician would ever reach them."
It was indeed worthwhile work, but Mujin had to ask:
"Why Mount Lao-jun specifically? Surely there are other villages in need of medical aid."
"That much you don't need to know. But I do have one request."
"What is it?"
"Do not mention my name there."
"Then whose name should I give? Should I say Hongmyeon Nogae sent me?"
Ha Ryeong shook his head.
"No, even less so. It's best not to say anyone sent you. Just say you passed by and happened to stop in. If you must give a name, mentioning Lee Chung should be fine."
"Understood."
"I'll write the exact location on a note and give it to you. Rest a day or two before you leave. I'll also provide enough travel funds. You won't need to worry about money."
Ha Ryeong stood, staring intently at Mujin, and gave him a faint smile.
She didn't look like a fiery-tempered martial master at all, but rather like an ordinary young girl.
Tang Mujin went around the apothecaries in Chongqing, gathering plenty of high-quality medicinal herbs.
The herbs of Mount Lao-jun were said to be excellent, but he couldn't expect to treat patients with only what he gathered there. Preparing (processing) herbs one by one would also take considerable time.
On the third morning after arriving in Chongqing, Mujin and Namgung Myeong set out for Mount Lao-jun. Since the matter wasn't extremely urgent, their pace wasn't rushed.
After three days of travel, they arrived at a fairly large village. It seemed at least a thousand people lived there.
But the people's expressions were not good. A strange village indeed.
The two entered an inn, put down their baggage, and idled away their time.
In the midst of idle chatter, Namgung Myeong brought up Mujin's inner demon.
"The physicians don't know how to cure an inner demon, right?"
"That's right. Thanks to my master, I can more or less treat the illnesses of martial artists, but even he never taught me about the inner demon."
"Really?"
Namgung Myeong thought for a while, then began to tell his own story.
"When we were at Mount Emei, I heard an explanation about the inner demon. Something about it clicked with me."
"What was it?"
"Since Sichuan is a borderland, wars often spill into it, right? Whether wars between states or the righteous–demonic wars of the martial world."
To a Sichuan native, such words might have sounded offensive. They disliked being called peripheral, backwater, or country folk.
But Mujin only nodded calmly. His travels across the Central Plains had broadened his perspective.
And besides, he thought, better a peaceful country bumpkin than a city-dweller entangled in wars.
"That makes sense."
"But in regions like Huadong (East China) and Huazhong (Central China) where I grew up, it's different. Whenever there's war or rebellion, those regions always get caught up in it."
Namgung Myeong slowly continued, organizing his thoughts.
"When that happens, lots of people end up wielding swords and spears. And among them, there are always people who show symptoms like yours. My family elders called it 'heart-sickness (심병).' I had it myself once."
Mujin stared at him.
As far as Mujin knew, the most recent war wasn't between nations but the righteous–demonic war.
That had taken place more than fifteen years ago. At that time, he and Namgung Myeong had been no older than five or six.
"You're not telling me you got caught in the righteous–demonic war at age five, are you?"
"Of course not. You don't need to be in a war to get heart-sickness. I fell into it around seven years old."
He recalled the memory as he spoke.
"That was when I first began learning the sword. I had a toy-like practice blade, and I trained with it earnestly. In my free time, I'd watch the family's martial men spar. It was fun.
Then one day, during a spar, one of their swords broke and the fragment flew toward me. I still remember it clearly."
Namgung lifted the hair above his left ear, revealing a faint but long scar.
"The blade flew straight at my eye. If my uncle hadn't saved me, I would've lost my eye at that age. Actually, that would've been lucky. Since it was a sword fragment infused with inner strength, I would've most likely died."
Mujin asked, "And what happened after that?"
"I didn't die, but heart-sickness set in. Before then, I loved playing with swords. But afterwards, just looking at a blade made me dizzy and my chest tighten. I even collapsed once while forcing myself to watch a spar."
"But now you're fine."
"Because I was cured."
"Really? What medicine did you take?"
"Heart-sickness isn't cured with medicine. It's cured with action and experience."
Mujin looked at him with great interest.
As someone who had always thought illness must be treated with medicine, this was a completely new idea.
"Action and experience? How?"
"There are two stages to treating heart-sickness. In the first stage, half recover. In the second, half of those who remain recover further."
"So not everyone recovers, then."
"Exactly. If they don't, it's actually fortunate. Some people's condition worsens after treatment is attempted."
"Hm."
That was similar to wasting disease . Even with the same symptoms and the same medicine, some recover, some don't, and some even grow worse.
Namgung stood, crossed his arms, and spoke seriously.
"The reason I didn't try to treat your heart-sickness right away was because I feared it might make things worse."
"And now?"
"Now I'm explaining it to give you the choice."
If Mujin nodded here, Namgung would begin treatment immediately.
But Mujin felt not fear, but curiosity.
As a physician, he often treated others but was rarely treated himself—especially for such an unusual condition.
Besides, he was young and full of confidence.
"I don't mind. Just tell me how it's done."
"It could go wrong. Are you sure?"
"If worst comes to worst, I'll just hole up underground at Mount Emei and train in Pure Palm Fist. Besides, I've already handed all my medical texts to my father, so the medical lineage won't be cut off."
"…Shall we start right now?"
"Yes."
Judging Mujin's resolve to be sufficient, Namgung rummaged through his baggage.
For some reason, he carried a mask and night-clothes among his things.
"My father made me watch sparring all day long while I was suffering from heart-sickness."
Dressed in night-clothes and masked, Namgung looked at Mujin.
"The first stage of treating heart-sickness is to grow accustomed to it."
Mujin frowned as he looked at him.
And before he realized it, his hand reached out, radiating killing intent.
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