The Medicine Peddler
Medicine peddler.
Decades ago, when entertainment was scarce, they were the people who gathered crowds at rural markets or village halls for the elderly, showing off their skills before selling medicine.
They peddled fake cure-alls, claiming their concoctions could fix everything from coughs and phlegm to weak immunity, every disease under the sun, and even problems in the bedroom.
Spectators sometimes bought the fake medicine because they fell for the pitch. Other times they bought it simply as the price of admission, treating it like a ticket after watching the peddler’s performance.
That last part was exactly what caught my attention—the admission fee.
People are far more used to paying for a product than for a story.
In a backwater village like this, the atmosphere would work against a pure storyteller. Everyone around you is listening. The person in front of you is listening. Why should you be the only one who digs into your purse for the Maedamja? Easy enough to just stand there and enjoy the free show.
So should I give up working as a Maedamja in places like this?
No.
— An energy tonic? I can make one, but what do you plan to do with it?
Medicine and poison are only a hair’s breadth apart. Use too much of a medicine and it becomes poison; use a poison correctly and it becomes medicine.
I asked Dang Hwarin, who was skilled in pharmacology, to prepare something that was not a fake cure-all at all—an actual fatigue recovery tonic made from cheap ingredients that still delivered real results.
What would happen if I sold that medicine?
I suppose it’s only proper to toss a few coins for the Maedamja’s story… but damn, that stings. Wait—this Maedamja is also selling a highly effective medicine?
If I buy the tonic, I get something that actually works and I cover the price of admission at the same time. Might as well grab one.
That was the mindset I wanted to create.
Of course, people would only buy if I made the effects crystal clear.
And for that… a brief commercial break.
I pulled the tonic from my robes, held it high, and circled the stage so everyone could see it.
“From the Sichuan Dang Clan!!! Purchased from a woman who spent her entire life researching medicine there!!!! This fatigue recovery tonic!!! One drink and the day’s exhaustion vanishes!!! Take it regularly and even the fatigue that never leaves no matter how much you sleep will disappear!!! Infused with the secret methods of the Sichuan Dang Clan!!! The! Fa! Tigue! Re! Co! Very! Tonic!!!”
“Whoa. A miracle medicine like that really exists?”
“The Sichuan Dang Clan—that’s the famous poison house up in Sichuan Province, right? What kind of medicine is it?”
“You only know half the story! Don’t you know poison and medicine are separated by a single sheet of paper? Of course the people who know poison best know medicine best too!”
“Amazing! Just drinking it restores your energy—isn’t that the legendary panacea we’ve only heard about?”
“If something like that exists, I’d love to try it myself.”
At the mere mention of the Sichuan Dang Clan the crowd erupted, buzzing about the tonic in my hand.
A modern audience would already be typing furious comments: Here comes another product placement that ruins the immersion. Can’t they cut the ads? But in this world there was no such danger.
This sales method was probably mine alone.
I had never seen performers in this world sell medicine. Even if some did, it would never be a mainstream technique.
If they get this excited over a little advertising, we’re going to have a problem.
Once the noise settled and every eye was back on me, I downed the tonic on the spot.
“Strength surges through me!!! Fatigue melts away!!!”
I deliberately flipped a full aerial somersault right where I stood to sell the sudden rush of energy.
“Whoa! The effect must be huge!”
“Hamurin looked ready to collapse a second ago and now he’s flipping through the air!”
“It’s like waking up in a warm, soft blanket, opening the window, and breathing in cool morning air—not a single trace of fatigue left!!!”
I bellowed at the top of my lungs to signal that I was ready.
“That masked woman is climbing onto the stage!”
“She’s holding hidden weapons! Must be an assassin!”
The masked woman began her slow ascent onto the platform.
My little product demonstration was only the opening act.
To sell medicine efficiently, what else did a man need?
The flower of the medicine peddler’s art.
Their exclusive specialty.
A device that proved the medicine’s power beyond doubt.
“I am an assassin. Take. This. Hidden. Weapon.”
Of course a medicine peddler’s show needed a strength performance.
Her acting is ridiculously stiff.
Who announces “I am an assassin” the second they appear? You’re supposed to wait until I shout, “Who the hell are you?!”
Dang Hwarin must have been nervous; the moment she stepped onto the stage her movements turned as rigid as a wooden puppet’s.
Time for a quick cover.
“I have taken the Sichuan Dang Clan’s fatigue recovery tonic, so every drop of exhaustion is gone!!! Hidden weapons mean nothing to me!!! Come!!!”
I delivered the plug so smoothly the Sichuan Dang Clan would have hired me as their TV commercial model on the spot, then settled into the prepared fight choreography.
“Here I come.”
Dang Hwarin showed the red-ribboned dart to the audience once, then started flinging them at me.
“Wow! That Maedamja dodges every single one! Cool!”
“He’s only moving his hands and feet from a standstill and still avoids them all!”
“Unbelievable! He caught the last one bare-handed!”
“Even though it’s sharp there’s no blood! Is that the medicine’s effect?”
“Whoa! The woman throwing the darts is amazing too!”
“The red ribbons make the flight path easy to follow even from far away!”
Just as I expected—they could see everything clearly.
I had attached the red ribbons as a special effect.
If Hwarin threw the darts slowly and I “dodged” them, ordinary spectators would never catch the motion. With the long red streamers trailing behind, the entire trajectory became visible. The audience could easily follow the throw and the dodge.
It worked, but damn was it exhausting. We had practiced the timing that morning, yet pulling it off live was a completely different animal.
“The. Hidden. Weapons. Have. Fallen.”
Hwarin’s awkward delivery was the signal that she was ready for the finale.
“Assassin! Taste my blade!”
I charged her and swung the fan in my hand as if it were a sword.
The assassin crumpled.
Slow. Even her collapse is slow.
“Kyaa! Young Master Hamurin wins!”
“That assassin… when she fell her chest bounced. Nice view.”
“Have you lost your mind? What did you just say?”
“Honey, I’m sorry!”
“The assassin was cool too.”
“If he hadn’t drunk that fatigue recovery tonic things could have gone badly.”
“I wish I had one of those myself.”
Perfect. The strength show had been even more successful than I planned.
“Only because my fatigue was restored could I defeat the assassin!!! All of it is thanks to the medicine of the Sichuan Dang Clan!!! Somewhere out there the woman who sold me this tonic deserves every blessing under heaven—I must offer a prayer of gratitude to the gods of heaven and earth!!!”
A brief sales intermission would now commence.
I dropped to my knees as if to pray and shot a glance at Dang Hwarin, who had already left the stage. She immediately collected the tonics we had prepared beside the platform and moved among the crowd.
Still half-lidded, I turned my face to the sky and launched the advertisement.
“O gods of heaven and earth!!! She has purple hair and green eyes!!! After suffering illness as a child she developed a compassionate heart and learned to craft inexpensive yet highly effective medicine for the lowliest people of the world!!!”
Dang Hwarin pulled off the assassin’s mask, revealing her hair and eyes to the entire square.
“Huuuhhh! Purple hair!! Green eyes!! She’s a real woman of the Sichuan Dang Clan!!!”
“The part covered by the veil—if you look carefully, isn’t that disease?”
“You idiot! He just said she fell ill as a child and learned medicine because of it!!”
“Then… does that mean the medicine she set out is the same one Young Master Hamurin drank?”
The plot twist landed beautifully.
I had deliberately masked her so the hair would stay hidden until the exact moment she stood before the crowd and I ordered her to remove it.
It must have felt as if a character from a story had stepped into reality.
And she truly carried the blood of the Sichuan Dang Clan. The odds that they would accept my fabricated backstory as truth were extremely high.
“Fatigue recovery tonic for sale. One dose, one silver.”
Hwarin. I told you to raise your voice. Look at you whispering because you’re embarrassed.
“Give me one!!!”
“Me too!!!”
People scrambled over one another to buy the medicine from Dang Hwarin.
We won’t sell everything.
They were buying, but I had prepared a large batch for high-volume, low-margin sales; complete sell-out still looked unlikely.
“Aren’t you buying one?”
“Pah. An old man who never sleeps at night—what would I need that for?”
“Honey, should I buy one too?”
“Waste of money.”
Time for supporting fire.
“O heavens!!! If a sleepless old man buys the fatigue recovery tonic of the Si! Chuan! Dang! Clan! and, around noon, hands just one dose to his grandson who is exhausted from studying, saying, ‘It’s hard these days, isn’t it? Grandpa understands completely. Drink this and hang in there!’ then gives the boy a firm pat on the shoulder—then the boy’s concentration will soar, he will pass the civil service exam, and for the rest of his life he will remember the sleepless grandfather who always encouraged him!!!”
“I… wait, let me get in line.”
“Heh heh. Let’s go together.”
“O heavens!!! Even a fat man who sleeps and sleeps yet remains tired!! If he cuts out meat and takes the Sichuan Dang Clan’s fatigue recovery tonic for only one week!!! The lingering fatigue of years will vanish completely!!!”
“I’d better grab one myself!!”
“O heavens!!! If a wife gives the fatigue recovery tonic to a husband exhausted from working all day!!! That husband who used to refuse the marriage bed because he was too tired!!! Will channel all that fresh, vigorous energy!!! Exactly where do you think he will release it!!!”
“I already bought one. The second I get home I’m washing up.”
“Wash up? What are you talking about, dear?”
“Give me one more!”
“Me too!”
In the end every single tonic Dang Hwarin carried sold out.
“Grandfather’s vengeance is complete!!! From this day forward I will live diligently for the bright future of the Ha Family!!!”
Here Hamurin’s ending closed on a happy note. If the story ended sadly after people had already bought the medicine, they might demand refunds.
“What a wonderful story!!!”
“I’ve never seen a Maedamja who could tell a tale like that!”
“Honey!! No side trips—let’s hurry home!”
“Can’t I just go to my friend’s place instead?”
“Heh heh. I’d better get home and brew this for the grandson.”
A heartwarming sight.
I made money; the audience left with good medicine. Everyone was leaving the open square with pleasant smiles on their faces.
Everyone except Dang Hwarin, who stood staring at the scene with a completely blank expression.
“Is this… really okay?”
“Isn’t this just a scam?”
After dinner, inside the inn room, Dang Hwarin looked at me with pure disbelief.
“There you go again. I already told you it isn’t.”
“What do you mean it isn’t? You were out there shouting about improved concentration and boosted virility!”
“It’s the medicine you made. The fatigue recovery tonic crafted with the secret methods of the Sichuan Dang Clan. That’s the truth.”
The medicine I sold today truly was a preparation that contained the Sichuan Dang Clan’s techniques.
Hwarin and I were not some fraud ring. We still needed to build trust with each other; the last thing I intended was to peddle fake cure-alls and trash my own reputation. So I sold something that actually worked.
“For medicine made with cheap ingredients, the effect is pretty impressive.”
“See? We didn’t sell fake deer antler. Even if the tonic doesn’t literally raise concentration or virility, once the fatigue is gone your focus improves and you stop collapsing into bed and maybe share some affection with your wife instead. That’s how it works.”
“Still…”
“All we did was advertise the medicine. In Joseon that level of sales talk is just basic marketing. Over there they claim you’ll get the strength of a tiger or live as long as a bear.”
“That’s normal in Joseon?”
“Yeah. Honestly I was happy I could show the true value of the medicine you made in front of everyone. You’re not?”
I deliberately guided her toward agreement.
When someone starts feeling even a little guilty, the best move is always to make them an accomplice.
“…It did feel good watching the medicine I made sell out.”
Dang Hwarin dipped her head slightly and admitted it in a reluctant tone.
“Right. I liked watching people praise you and buy every last dose you made.”
I smiled the way a senior manager smiles when a new hire finally starts carrying their weight.
At my words Hwarin’s eyes suddenly widened.
“Uh, um, that is…”
“Anyway. Time to sleep. I’m exhausted.”
That should do it. I brushed past her and collapsed straight onto the bed.
Hwarin stood still for a while, then let out a small sigh and perched on the edge of the mattress. She kept staring at me with anxious eyes.
Hwarin. If you keep staring at me like that I won’t be able to sleep.
“Hey… Kang Yunho.”
She continued watching me, then finally called my name with careful hesitation.
Something else she needs to say? She doesn’t look like she’s complaining anymore.
I met her gaze and gave a silent signal that she should speak if she had something on her mind.
“You… what’s the real reason you’re traveling with me?”
“I already told you. For my friend’s medicine…”
“Is that really all?”
Her voice was completely serious.
Is she suspicious of me? I pushed myself up on the bed and looked straight into her eyes without a word.
When our gazes locked again, Hwarin’s pupils trembled. An expression of anxiety mixed with something that was almost pleading.
She wasn’t looking for the joke or the lighthearted line she had heard before.
“Actually… no.”
All right. Time to bring out the answer I prepared for moments exactly like this.