Song Manor Checkup: Porridge and Pulses
A guy with a protruding gut and jaundiced eyes—where do villagers like that usually gather? The village hall? Could be. But in a real backwater, there isn't even that.
The village head's house? Nope. Why would he lend out his place?
The answer is the restaurant.
Even in the boonies or deep wilderness, there's always at least one eatery. Village folk don't eat home-cooked meals every single day, after all.
So the backwater restaurant doubles as a meeting spot. And apparently, Song Manor was no exception.
Across the little river cutting through the heart of Namgye Village. On a gentle hill overlooking terraced fields. That's where Song Manor stood.
Most houses in Namgye Village were basically dugouts. Average for a medieval murim backwater village. Namgye Clinic was right at that level too.
But Song Manor was different from the get-go.
"Whoa, this place is huge!"
"First time here? Sister Gye-hwa's such a nice person!"
"Not like I have reason to come all the way out here."
It was familiar territory for Cho Hyang, but a first for me. Why would I shell out for restaurant food when money's tight?
A proper roof you wouldn't see around here. A wide courtyard. And a proper manor with three buildings linked together.
Unlike the earthy Namgye Clinic, it even had papered windows.
Namgye Clinic was getting crushed in every way. Though if you factor in the health benefits of adobe, we'd claim one win there.
The inside was pretty lively. People gathered around tables, chatting away.
"Sister Gye-hwa, you here? It's me!"
"Huh? Isn't this our little Cho Hyang?"
A friendly, hearty voice. Someone peeked out from inside the house.
A mature woman with her long hair neatly tied up. Even in simple everyday clothes, her curves were no joke.
"What's up, Cho Hyang? This early?"
"Here for food! I'll pay in coins!"
"My goodness? The kid who always tried to trade herbs? Oh, and you're the new doctor? Nice to meet you."
This was Gye-hwa, the lady of the house at Song Manor. I gave a quick bow.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Hong Yak."
"Likewise! I've heard all about you!"
"Rumors?"
"Yeah, they say you're terrible at talking.... Word is, Namgye Clinic's walls get smashed every other day because of it."
Hm? Yeah, the clinic walls do fly off pretty often. Thanks to murim folks who don't trust my medical opinions. But how does she know the backstory?
"Cho Hyang, was that you?"
"What?"
Cho Hyang blinked back innocently. Suspicious.
"Oops, my mouth runs away sometimes. Sit down first. I was just boiling some porridge."
And so we settled at a table in the corner of the courtyard.
Was it my imagination? Seemed like eyes were turning our way.
Makes sense. Namgye Village is a tiny mountain hamlet with just a few dozen souls. I haven't met everyone yet, so the new doctor is still a hot topic.
I tried ignoring the stares. Then—huh? A short old man was shuffling over.
"You the new doctor?"
"That's me."
"Heard you got kicked out of Yakwang Valley. Why come to a dump like this?"
"Circumstances. Just building experience."
I brushed it off vaguely. Even I didn't know why Hong Yak had ended up working at Namgye Clinic.
"Hot, careful!"
Gye-hwa had brought out the porridge before I knew it. Steaming vegetable porridge set before us, loaded with mushrooms. Smelled good.
"It's great, right, elder? How long's it been since we had a doctor in the village? Heukhyang Town's a half-day away, so folks just toughed it out."
"True! Even the so-called doctors who came now and then couldn't last a few months. Tsk tsk...."
Yeah, Namgye Village was remote even among remotes. The nearest big cities—Hakgyeong or maybe Dali?—took days on foot.
Heukhyang Town, the local township, was a half-day's walk. About six hours on foot.
Six hours on foot! An eternity for a modern guy.
Maybe because transport hadn't advanced? To these medieval Central Plains folks, it wasn't that far. Just tough with a sick body.
Plus, the mountains around here were dangerous.
I hadn't realized at first. Didn't expect this many mountains around Namgye Village.
It's in Yunnan. Yunnan—that's the Southern Barbarians from Romance of the Three Kingdoms, right?
Wasn't it full of jungle parties with wild men like King Duosi or whatever?
Turned out it was all my misconception. Nights got brutally cold.
Bordering Burmese or Tibetan highlands, maybe? Namgye Village sat at a pretty high elevation. No jungle savages here—those were way southeast.
"Clinic's right across the river. Come if you're sick."
"Good. But doc, you got real skills, right? Can't trust these doctors who drag themselves here...."
"Elder! Don't say that in front of him!"
Gye-hwa glanced at me in panic. But I wasn't fazed.
Even in modern Korea, sick folks head to big hospitals—university ones if possible. Nothing to do with individual doctors' skills. Human nature.
So I stayed quiet. Then—
"Ma Yeong-gam, what're you saying? Our doc's skills are top-notch!"
Cho Hyang, sitting across from me, suddenly bristled. What? Didn't you nag me daily and chase away patients?
"Top-notch? Heard murim wanderers smashed up the clinic walls doubting him."
"I eyed him funny for a while too, but today was different! Kang Mu-sa from Silver Peak Manor couldn't use his leg, and doc fixed it in one day!"
The room's vibe shifted at that.
"Silver Peak Manor?"
"The silverworking family in Hakgyeong?"
"That rich house second to none in Hakgyeong?"
Cho Hyang straightened up proudly. Why's she beaming like that?
"Yep! Lady Eun So-ryeong, the second daughter, paid in full herself! Generously too!"
"Lady Eun?"
"For real?"
The crowd buzzed louder. Could the mood flip this fast? People need backbone....
"Doc, check my pulse too."
"Me too."
Suddenly it was a free clinic. Wait, we came to eat!
"Thanks, but we're here for a meal."
"No biggie. Time's all we got. We'll wait till you're done."
"Yeah, yeah!"
Doomed.
Staying holed up at the clinic would've been chill. Few patients anyway—I could've birdwatched out the window.
Now I'd stepped out for food and boom—patient overload.
"Heard that? He'll check after eating. Line up, everyone!"
Cho Hyang organized a queue like a pro. Was this her scheme all along? No proof, but reasonable suspicion.
Sigh. No choice.
Got flustered with the sudden crowd, but Namgye Village's total population wasn't much anyway.
At a university hospital outpatient, I'd see nearly a hundred a day. This was nothing.
Better this way. Good chance to memorize faces and gauge health.
"Alright. I'll check pulses—wait your turn."
I wolfed down the Song Manor mushroom porridge. Nearly scorched my palate, but choked it down. Doctor's duty.
Post-meal, I lined up the visitors for checkups.
"One at a time for pulses."
Villagers' jobs were predictable. Mountains everywhere: herb gatherers, woodcutters, hunters. A branch of the Lancang River ran through, so some farmers too.
No martial artists. Who'd start a sect here?
Mostly civilians with underdeveloped qi meridians. Easier to treat—no qi system to fuss over. Just like regular internal medicine cases.
"Knee hurts? How long? Stiff, aches when you move?"
"Right. Scared to walk these days."
This uncle had osteoarthritis. No NSAIDs or steroid shots, so improvise with similar herbs.
"Pick up some willow bark at the clinic later. Don't stop moving just 'cause it hurts—that makes it worse. Lose some weight too."
"Sat around all winter, packed on a bit. Haha!"
Willow bark—white inner bark of willow trees. Aspirin's source. Willows lined the river, no supply issues.
"Doc, check me? Soles hurt lately when walking.... Ow!"
"Hurts here, huh. Stand a lot? And mismatched shoes?"
"Gotta prep for transplanting. Shoes wore out, patched 'em."
Auntie had plantar fasciitis. Foot strain from bad shoes, probably.
"Rest is best, but can you?"
"Aigoo, transplant season—how?"
"I'll do some acupuncture. Come to the clinic later."
Fasciitis needs rest, but jobs don't allow it.
Luckily, Hong Yak's acupuncture knowledge was in my head. Hit the points for pain relief.
Treated the Song Manor crowd for a good while.
"Yuui—massage doctor, huh? He really kneads everywhere."
"Hey! He can hear you!"
"Still skilled. Knows where to touch."
I tuned out the peanut gallery. Kneading? It's a physical exam....
Anyway. Namgye Village folks with their chronic ills. Who'd be the chronic disease champ? Heart pounding as I continued—
Then I spotted a guy lurking awkwardly in the distance.
"Gye-hwa, who's that?"
Asked her as she cleared tables. Ma Yeong-gam answered instead.
"Don't get me started. That's Jeon Sam—sleeps all day. Lazy bum when everyone's working."
"Really? I'll check his pulse too."
Called the guy over. He shuffled up, glancing nervously.
Middle-aged man. Gut protruding nicely. Breathing ragged, wheezing.
Out of breath after a few meters?
"What's wrong?"
"Nothin' much. Just 'cause everyone's getting checked...."
Really? Looked plenty eager for a checkup. Patient vibe off.
Yellow sclera. Jaundice.
"Let me see your belly. Lie on your side, roll over?"
Laid him sideways, tapped lightly.
Thud, thud, thock.
Tone changed with position. Shifting dullness positive. Ascites.
Liver cirrhosis.
"Fluid in your belly. Heavy drinker?"
"Don't ask! Boozes and lounges all day—that's his job!"
"Not asking you, elder. How much daily?"
"Corn liquor, one bowl a day? Can't get enough."
Corn liquor—corn brew. Low proof in this era? One bowl daily.... Not huge alcohol intake.
Jaundice and ascites? Advanced cirrhosis. Hard to reach on daily grain booze alone.
He might've understated. Or another factor.
"Eat raw freshwater fish often?"
"Oh, doc knows? Set traps in the river, sashimi—mmm, can't get enough!"
Guy who can't get enough of everything. Raw fish—liver fluke risk. Sounds like he chowed down flukes too.
Flukes cause cirrhosis. Hepatitis possible, but no tests here....
Tricky. Cirrhosis is tough even modernly once advanced.
Manage it in a medieval murim backwater? ...Sigh, brutal.
"Swing by the clinic this afternoon."
"...That bad?"
Jeon Sam's face paled. Just tagging along, now scared of a clinic visit.
Didn't reassure him. He should be scared.
"I'll explain then. You must come."
Even as I said it, I thought:
No blood tests. No imaging. Make my own meds. Tools? Don't ask.
In this nothing-but-basics setup, what could my internal med knowledge even do?
That afternoon was slammed. Everyone from Song Manor showed up.
Chronic stuff mostly, so prescribed accordingly. Patients left eggs, potatoes, sundries as thanks, piled in the corner.
And one beaming onlooker.
"Cho Hyang, happy?"
Grinning ear to ear.
"Of course! Village folks are stubborn as ox sinew. Without that pulse check at Song Manor, they'd never come on their own."
Did she plan this to drag me there? Maybe her talent's in sales.
Employee boosting clinic revenue. Beautiful work ethic.
Except—
"Hehe, all these eggs—stir-fry tomorrow.... Potatoes too, rice worries gone for a bit...."
I do the work. She reaps the food. Can an employee work the boss like this...?
"Cho Hyang."
"Yes, doc?"
"This is clinic income, right? Not going in your mouth."
"Pfft, more income means bigger paycheck!"
"Not always. Heard of lump-sum pay?"
"Lump-what?"
She tilted her head. Too early for advanced Korean labor systems a millennium ahead.
"Time to close? Everyone's come."
She stretched for the door.
"Nah, keep it open."
"Huh? Sun's setting."
Her body twitched with quit instincts. As I opened my mouth to retort—
Knock knock.
Someone rapped on the clinic door.
"Hong Yak doc, it's Jeon Sam. You said come by...."
Whew, good—he showed. Come on in, liver cirrhosis.