Chapter 56
Chapter 56
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 56
Chapter Title: Leisurely Voyage
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She would suppress him using only the Stroke Sword Technique.
She even announced in advance which character she would use, then unfolded the Stroke Sword Technique strictly following its strokes.
It was an arrogant declaration.
Yet Wi Sowol proved with her skill that it wasn't foolish arrogance.
She took a few wounds in the process, but against a master like Seop Un-mok, that was a cheap price to pay.
'What an astonishing sword genius.'
Those who witnessed her talent all agreed it was heaven's whim—such was Wi Sowol's prodigious gifts.
The five senses granted as compensation for bearing heaven's punishment, an open heavenly gate at her crown through the Baihui acupoint.
Added to that, the experiences and insights from her past life, which had earned awe as the closest to the world's best.
Truly, it was a miracle explainable only as heaven's caprice—the essence of Wi Sowol's talent.
But purely in terms of sword genius, Seop Un-mok might rival the Wi Sowol of her past life, who had lacked such experience.
To reach this level with just the Stroke Sword Technique, which wasn't even a proper supreme art—how absurd a talent would that require?
Internal energy could be bolstered with elixirs, but swordsmanship couldn't.
Yet Seop Un-mok's talent had veered onto the wrong path.
It had to be nipped in the bud.
As the Weird Physician's disciple, before this talent fully blossomed and birthed more victims.
"...Will you take my head?"
Death.
Those two characters shattered into sword scars, etched across Seop Un-mok's entire body.
Not a single stroke was missing.
To achieve this, Wi Sowol had endured even her injuries.
"Yes."
"I don't understand."
Facing death head-on, Seop Un-mok didn't beg pathetically for his life but instead posed a question to resolve his doubts.
"I clearly followed what my master taught."
True medicine lies in surgery, so adhere to it; before operating, always use alcohol to eradicate poison first.
Shame ignorance and ceaselessly pursue new knowledge; strive to ensure no one dies from surgery.
That was what Seop Un-mok had done.
The scholar Seop Un-mok, preparing for the imperial exams, had hung his aspirations on the Weird Physician's back.
He had acted just as he was taught.
He had merely been honest about his own desires.
"You're pitiful too."
Now Wi Sowol clearly understood the flaw inherent in Seop Un-mok.
He lacked something.
An absence of emotion.
Even Wi Sowol felt it faintly, but empathy clearly existed for her—yet he felt none.
Thus, he blindly followed externally imposed rules, deviating only to pursue his own desires.
"Your heart holds no true intent."
He had internalized the Weird Physician's principles simply because he was the first doctor he met.
Seop Un-mok didn't truly believe they were right and act accordingly.
Proof lay in his victims.
Ji Ho-san had been lucky.
He had at least received some form of treatment.
But those dissected solely for Seop Un-mok's curiosity had no real illness—or if they did, received no proper care.
Many lived on with nagging aftereffects.
No matter how neatly sutured, the human body wasn't meant to be arbitrarily opened and closed like that.
No doubt, there were more than a few like Ji Ho-san who perished from such botched procedures.
"Master sent many patients to their deaths with his own hands too."
"It's different."
Disgust welled up.
It felt like a snake slithering across her skin.
"Don't equate the devotion of those who willingly sacrificed even their lives for medicine's advancement with the suffering of victims slain for your mere curiosity."
At the very least, Wi Sowol knew the difference.
She might not harbor profound gratitude or awe for a noble mission toward them, but she knew full well they weren't the same.
That was why Wi Sowol could never associate with Seop Un-mok.
Even at her words, Seop Un-mok blinked as if he couldn't accept it.
"I still don't get it."
"I didn't expect you to."
Chiring-!
A clear bell chime.
That was the last sound Seop Un-mok heard in the living world.
And right after, Hwang Bo-yun's voice rang out, resonant and refreshing like the bell itself.
"Sowol! You're hurt!"
"It'll heal with some ointment."
"No way! A woman's skin is her life—you don't even know that?"
Wi Sowol fixed her with cat-like eyes, staring in utter disbelief.
You, of all people, say that?
In some ways, Hwang Bo-yun had been even more indifferent to her skin than Wi Sowol herself.
Fine, she didn't wear makeup while disguised as a man.
But she knew full well prolonged sun exposure burned the skin, yet during training, she wore sleeveless tops and short undergarments.
Where had that carefree hunk—no, that carefree maiden—gone, leaving only this nagging harpy behind?
"Forget it. I know my wounds better. These won't scar. More importantly, why didn't you finish him off?"
"Huh? I even blasted him with full awareness technique. His energy... huh, where'd he go?"
"He had some trick up his sleeve."
Would the Jeon clan let a talent tarnishing their name escape to the Sword Assembly unchecked?
Of course they'd sent pursuers.
Yet Jeon Ga-ho had boldly shaken them off and reached the Sword Assembly.
It wouldn't be strange if he'd mastered some plausible escape art for evasion.
"I'll catch him now!"
Hwang Bo-yun bristled, vowing to unleash Heaven's Child Subduing Technique at full power to snag the escaped prey.
But Wi Sowol looked unconcerned.
"No need. He's smart—probably holed up in the county seat. Causing a fuss would only hurt us. Two of the Eight Sword Assembly Swords dead, and even they couldn't ignore it quietly."
No matter how individualistic the Sword Assembly, losing a quarter of their signature masters overnight demanded a response.
At minimum, to avoid looking weak to outsiders.
"Time to go. We've stayed too long."
Even after Wi Sowol's explanation, Hwang Bo-yun couldn't shake her unease.
Like seeing someone who didn't wipe properly after using the toilet.
But Wi Sowol was right, so Hwang Bo-yun reluctantly nodded.
On their way back to Gangneung County to secure passage to their original destination, Nanchang County, Hwang Bo-yun spoke up.
"Oh, hey—mind if I pop off for a quick errand?"
"...Are you seriously horny...?"
"What nonsense! I just wanna check on the Double Flower Pavilion girls!"
Ignoring Hwang Bo-yun's indignant squawks, Wi Sowol launched into her own topic.
"It was a sense of humiliation."
"...You mean how I'm feeling right now?"
"The emotion from this time. It was too complex for simple anger, but 'humiliation' fit perfectly."
Seop Un-mok.
An utterly repulsive foe, but one who'd linger in Wi Sowol's memory as this feeling of humiliation.
'Oh, and the suturing too.'
Seop Un-mok's suturing—not just skin or peritoneum, but even meridians tied flawlessly.
That technique was now hers.
Purely in suturing, it surpassed even the Weird Physician's by a step.
'I reaped what Master sowed...'
The world's currents were beyond even Wi Sowol's prodigious senses to fathom.
Leaving behind the tearful send-off from the Double Flower Pavilion's blue courtesans—who called her Great Desert Flame, their idol to whom they'd devote body and soul—Wi Sowol and Hwang Bo-yun boarded the grand pleasure barge prepared by the Hao Clan and drifted leisurely on the Yangtze's waves.
"This ship's size is nice."
Wi Sowol, on her second boat ride ever, murmured contentedly at the spacious vessel with minimal rocking, far better than before.
The boat down the Han River had low cabin ceilings, feeling cramped.
Her short stature made it tolerable, but still stifling.
This one, a multi-decked pleasure barge, had pavilions for cabins—perfect for river breezes, and overall spacious and comfortable.
Yet Hwang Bo-yun, who normally bounded about like a fish in water, slumped listlessly for some reason.
Watching her, Wi Sowol clicked her tongue and smack—left a small handprint on that broad back.
"Ow!"
"How long you gonna mope? Courtesan life really your calling?"
"No... not that, but."
"Up. Time to work."
Tsk. Amid lingering emptiness, Hwang Bo-yun rose with Wi Sowol to the deck.
Quite a few passengers lounged there, admiring the Yangtze's vastness and the lush wilderness beyond.
Mostly sightseers, dotted with merchants hawking to them.
Not all wealthy—most wore middle-class garb.
Wi Sowol found an empty spot without vendor stalls, unpacked her bundle, and finally stood a small signboard upright, boldly displaying her authority.
The Medical Examination License Plaque.
Even without Hao Clan connections, flashing this got her ushered aboard any ship, often with extra pay.
Hwang Bo-yun, too, deftly assembled wood scraps into a stool and plopped down beside her, starting guard-and-cashier duties.
Customers came fast.
Few doctors for many folk, formal ones pricey—so quacks and midwives got most business.
But a passerby exam graduate's plaque drew eyes inevitably.
"Oh...! A doctor?"
"Yes."
"Ahem, I've got a bit of seasickness—could you prescribe something?"
"Show me your wrist."
Grumbling at the haughty tone from someone who looked much younger, he extended his wrist anyway.
Better safe with a plaque—could be an official healer.
"Dizzy, right? Mild vertigo. Skip meals for now. I'll needle you—sit."
No need for surgery on minor cases.
The Weird Physician treated light ailments with acupuncture or moxa when no local docs.
Wi Sowol's needles, infused with Dazed Haze Hand subtleties, struck cleanly: Hegu between thumb and index, Neiguan central on inner wrist two finger-widths up, Fengchi at neck base.
The man's discomfort eased instantly.
"Ooh, as expected of a license holder! Uh, how much?"
Good results meant high fees—common knowledge.
His voice faltered, tinged with regret.
Wi Sowol eyed his clothes casually.
"Ten copper coins."
"Huh? Th-that's it?"
"Yes."
Fearing she'd change her mind, he fumbled coins from his pouch with his free hand.
That sparked it.
Rare chance for cheap graduate treatment—crowds surged, even healthy ones swept by mob mentality.
But crowds breed troublemakers.
"A doctor hiding his face like that?"
Obvious rich heir vibe.
Wearing pricey silk robes in high-end crimson.
"Can't even see your face properly? Never heard of a doctor needling with a veil."
He'd come to pick a fight from the start.
Not debating—just insulting to flaunt petty superiority.
Habitually reaching for her sword, Wi Sowol's hand brushed air.
She'd left it behind.
Hwang Bo-yun was here, and a doctor with a blade looked bad.
Of course, she wouldn't kill over mere words.
Just scare him lightly—but now, let Hwang Bo-yun handle it.
She'd dragged her from the cabin for exactly this.
Crack-crackle.
Already moody, Hwang Bo-yun rose with a predatory grin, cracking knuckles.
Her coiled bulk unfurling made the heckler instinctively step back.
That stung his pride.
With courtesans in tow, reason fled at showing weakness.
Alcohol, male ego, humiliation tangled, overriding sense.
"You...!"
The youth swung clumsily.
A wild haymaker.
Who could he fell with that?
Hwang Bo-yun sneered at the sluggish punch.
Regardless, she'd take it.
One hit received, one returned.
No grounds left for him then.
Her Heaven's Child Body wouldn't even feel it.
Lucky if his fist didn't shatter on impact.
But her plan failed.
Paak!
A hand shot out, engulfing the youth's fist.
Belonging, astonishingly, to a boy still boyish-faced.
As the boy lowered his hand, the youth's arm dragged down.
Overwhelming strength gap.
Gasps rose at the power from a boy a head shorter than the youth—but taller than Wi Sowol.
Gently disengaging, the boy released and spoke.
"No need to ruin a fine spot with petty noise."
Calm yet firm voice.
Boyish timbre, hinting at deepening—his youthful face no mere childishness.
"If you're a patient, queue properly. If not, wait till the doctor's done. If you doubt her a quack, prove it with medicine, not fists."
The youth flushed beet-red, then spun and fled to the pavilion.
Applause and praise hailed the boy's chivalric air.
He could've basked, but instead bowed politely, closing the matter.
He nodded to Wi Sowol and Hwang Bo-yun too, then took the very back of the line—not his original spot.
Others offered places ahead; he humbly declined, holding the end.
Such was prestigious clan poise.
No need to boast—deeds and words naturally drew respect, innate dignity shining.
Wi Sowol resumed good deeds without calling him out.
When all had gone and his turn came.
The boy bowed again to Wi Sowol and introduced himself.
"Jin Dam-seon of Wuchang."