Chapter 118
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 118
Chapter Title: The Couple's Wuxia Clinic Dreams
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The couple who came looking to open a fourth branch were named Yoo Kyung-hun and Jeon Min-ji.
They were newlyweds who had gotten married this year and just returned from their honeymoon.
According to the cold email they sent introducing themselves, the two were alumni from the same school, exactly three years apart—a senior and junior who dated through their college club.
The older one, Yoo Kyung-hun, had served as a public health doctor in lieu of military service after graduation, gaining three years of clinical experience while diligently attending conferences and lectures without slacking on his studies.
Jeon Min-ji had graduated this year, gotten married right away, and taken a slightly extended honeymoon, so she had no real clinical experience, but she made a point of highlighting what she had studied on her own.
So my initial impression from their email was...
Just that they seemed like hardworking people who loved studying.
What? Ten Thousand Flowers Falling from the Heavens?
Why was that coming out of their mouths?
"You must be a fan of martial arts novels."
"Yes. I practically grew up in my grandfather's Korean medicine clinic, and the waiting room was stacked full of martial arts novels."
It was a pretty unusual family environment.
Both the grandfather raising his grandson and the clinic having novels and comics in it.
But that wasn't the important part.
"Mm, yes. You learned about me from that video, right? I read your introductions. You both seem like serious students. What exactly are you hoping for from our network?"
What they wanted from me was the key.
"Do you want me involved in everything from the start—site selection, treatment protocols, interior design, staff training, and so on? Or just help with marketing?"
"Oh, we get to choose?"
"If you have a solid style and the skills to back it up, I won't force you to match my treatment methods."
Even for the same condition, different clinics needle slightly different points. Prescriptions follow similar principles but vary a bit in added or subtracted herbs.
Fundamentally, Korean medicine helps the body heal itself naturally using its own power, so there's room for different approaches.
Of course, heading down the wrong path is a no-go, but if both Path 1 and Path 2 are valid answers, I have no intention of imposing my way.
"Naturally, if you want, I can train you to replicate my exact acupuncture, tuina techniques, and prescriptions."
I'd refined the manual quite a bit with the first joiners: Chu Mi-young, Hwang Sang-hun, and Kim Chun-sik.
Teaching Chu Mi-young at the start involved trial and error that took time, but now it should be more like efficient copy-paste.
Filling experience gaps in a short time is tough, but... we could probably replicate about 70 percent. They can always ask if something comes up.
"Wow, I'd love to follow you around and learn, Director!"
Jeon Min-ji jumped in quickly.
With no proper clinical experience yet, she seemed gripped by vague anxiety.
Meanwhile, Yoo Kyung-hun's face relaxed at the part about not meddling with their style.
"And about NewTube..."
How was I supposed to explain this?
"To be honest, it did end up promoting us, but that video was never shot for promotional purposes."
Some people did come after seeing it.
It happened occasionally when the video first went up, and very rarely even now.
They all shared a suspiciously strong love for martial arts stuff.
"We don't do any NewTube marketing. Instagram is co-managed with Branch 2's Director Chu Mi-young, and blogs are handled individually. Branch 1 is basically neglected, honestly."
"Ahh..."
When I laid out our promo strategy—or lack thereof—Yoo Kyung-hun looked deeply disappointed.
No, come on. What Korean medicine doctor in their right mind would film a Ten Thousand Flowers Falling from the Heavens video for clinic promotion?
"So... we can't learn the martial forms?"
...And there it was.
"Is that why you came? To learn that?"
"Yes."
"Kyung-hun was really looking forward to it."
"Well, there's nothing stopping me from teaching you."
"Oh?!"
"Ooh?"
It's not like I'd teach them the full breathing methods—just the outward motions, which aren't that hard.
No need for pinpoint accuracy on acupoints; as long as it looks convincing on video.
Ten thousand reps ought to do it.
"But seriously, that's what you want to learn? To post on NewTube?"
"Yes!"
Yoo Kyung-hun's eyes sparkled.
"It's essential for the clinic we're envisioning!"
Jeon Min-ji chimed in enthusiastically.
"...What kind of clinic are you two imagining that needs martial forms?"
I lost my composure.
I wanted to crack open their heads and see what was inside.
"Oh, we came up with a few ideas!"
"Ideas?"
The moment I bit, they pounced.
No secrets here—they were dying to spill.
"Our families all tried to talk us out of it... but would you hear us out?"
I nodded. If they were opening under our name, I needed to know.
"Our planned site looks like this."
"Okay."
I figured they'd show building photos, but Yoo Kyung-hun pulled up a blank screen in a notes app.
Nothing there?
Before I could think, he started drawing with a stylus.
No, writing letters?
What he drew was the shape of a 'ㄷ'.
"It's shaped like a block letter D? The building?"
"Yeah, so there's this open space in the middle, right?"
"True."
"We're gonna make it a farm!"
"..."
"Smart farms are trending these days!"
Wait, weren't we just talking about opening a clinic?
"Not just a decoction room—we'd grow our own herbal ingredients from scratch! Totally unique, right?"
"Have either of you ever farmed?"
No way they had.
Anyone who'd even tried once—or visited a weekend farm—couldn't dream this up.
Wonder why smart farms are hyped... Probably 'cause clueless folks like this dive in?
"No."
"Grandma planted some lettuce..."
"I didn't overlook that."
I'd tried it.
Not in Korea, of course—in the murim world.
Before establishing my practice, I'd experimented to learn, even posing as a modern guy with a noble title.
The Sichuan Tang family controlled all poison and herb harvesting and cultivation, and I held a high position, so I had the authority to try things if I wanted.
So what happened?
Nothing panned out.
I just realized that all a doctor can really do is judge good or bad.
"Each herb needs different soil and climate. Land's woefully short, and even full-time farming wouldn't cut it. Maybe one easy display herb in a smart farm... but I'd rather dig a pond."
I shook my head.
Medicine and farming don't mix from the start.
Not unless one of you is the reincarnation of Shennong!
"Whoa, you've actually tried it?"
Jeon Min-ji's eyes went wide.
Even after I pointed out the impossibility, she seemed thrilled.
"You're amazing. We just thought it up..."
Ah, so they never really planned to do it?
Good, then.
"Yeah, the farm felt iffy to us too."
"Idea two: a cafe."
"A cafe?"
No sooner had I relaxed than they unleashed the next one.
"Pairing a clinic with a cafe—synergy, right?"
"This was my grandfather's clinic, in a tourist spot."
"One wing of the D-shape for the clinic, the other for the cafe! Clinic patients wait at the cafe, cafe visitors get checkups and needles on a whim."
If the farm was something no one sane would touch.
This was an idea plenty of doctors had toyed with.
"Is that cafe by chance a herbal tea place? Selling medicinal brews?"
"Of course?"
As expected.
I'd considered it myself once.
But murim experience taught me it's brutally tough.
"Why do you think there aren't many herbal cafes?"
"Uh... clinics make bank anyway?"
"Non-medical folks can buy food-grade herbs and brew tea."
"Hmm, not familiar?"
That's part of it, but the core issue is deeper.
"How many herbal ingredients are actually tasty?"
Taste was the crux.
"Mm, licorice? Oh, jujubes too."
"Astragalus is palatable, right? Kinda sweet."
"Hwanghwa tea is good."
"Load it with honey and it's just tasty?"
It'd taste better, sure.
Than without.
And honestly, skip the herbs for straight honey and milk.
Balancing taste and health is insanely hard. Or impossible.
"Dumping enough honey to mask the herbs kills the health benefits. If you're ditching health anyway, strawberry latte's better."
"Ah...!"
Jeon Min-ji's mouth fell open in realization.
"Endure bad taste for health? That's just medicine. Half-ass the dose, no effect but bad taste. Full therapeutic dose? Prescribe it properly."
I'd... really poured effort into making herbal meds tasty.
Not to open a cafe, obviously.
It was during a plague in Hebei Province.
- The Peng family requests clinic dispatch.
I accepted and headed to Hebei.
Though a martial clan, the Hebei Pengs—pillars of the region—stepped up nobly against the epidemic.
And a ton of clansmen caught it.
Warriors are tough, immune, rarely sick, so we went in carefree.
But lethality was sky-high.
Elderly died painlessly; those resisting writhed in agony battling the illness.
Thanks to that—suppression was easy.
My modern knowledge helped: swift quarantine, strict hygiene.
But the disease's nature mattered more.
Low lethality but high contagion spreads slower.
Anyway, we stamped it out early.
No Peng warriors died.
Almost all caught it, though.
So what's this got to do with tasty herbs?
The Peng warriors—huge guys with massive swords—threw tantrums en masse: sore throat, headache, stomachache.
I prescribed per symptoms.
Not hard; Korean med evolved treating plagues.
But one huge snag.
- Argh, can't eat this! Honey, honey!
- Urk! Planning to poison us all?
- My last will... If I drink this decoction—
Hebei Pengs.
Double the size of average folk, lugging enormous swords.
Those guys... all had baby palates.
From kids to peak experts to elders.
Mid-suffering, they whined the decoctions were too bitter.
- No need to fuss. Don't wanna die? Drink. Hate it that much? Die.
Master said leave 'em.
But I believed making patients take meds was part of doctoring.
I tried everything to sweeten without ruining efficacy.
Impossible.
Herbology notes flavors—bitter-cold, pungent-hot—for a reason.
Honey or malt forced sweetness sometimes dulled effects.
Mostly... just tasted weird.
Endgame: pills with water, or force-feed strapped down.
Herbal cafes succeed sometimes.
They cherry-pick tasty herbs, huge effort.
Folks who've only sipped hwanghwa tea starting from scratch with opening?
Better talk 'em out.
Unless you have An Joo-hee's odd tastes, normal people don't love herbal smells/flavors!
"If you're set on a cafe, make it regular with a few hwanghwa items. There's a reason they're rare."
Couldn't share Peng tale, so I framed it as hunting palatable meds for bitter-hating kids.
"Whoa, yeah."
"Taste is the hurdle... Coffee is tasty."
"Thanks for the warning!"
Thankfully, they got it quick.
Ideas overflowed, but not total pipe-dream entrepreneur syndrome.
"But how do these ideas tie to martial forms?"
"Ah, that connects to idea three."
There's a third?
Before my hand reached my neck, they spilled.
"Theme the clinic wuxia-style! Interiors, costumes, NewTube martial forms...!"
"Eh?"
"We thought farm and cafe too, but you nixed 'em! Just theme the clinic—good enough?"
"Almost named it Murim Clinic, but no forms? No go! We wanna learn proper moves from you!"
In a way, wilder than farm or cafe.
A wuxia-themed Korean medicine clinic?
"That..."
...Sounds kinda good?