The Qi Arts Master Chapter 19
Tian Ailang made finding things in the cluttered physician's space look like an art form. After jotting something down on a scrap of paper for a moment, the young doctor handed it over.
"Head west from Jeoseong toward Janggagu, and you'll find the Five Rock Peaks between the two cities. Right in the center is the Medical Pavilion. At the foot of the mountain, look for a rock shaped like a turtle. Linger around there, and someone will come out."
Tian Ailang listened with keen interest. Still, he doubted whether going to them would make any difference.
"Do you think they can diagnose my condition?"
At Tian Ailang's question, the young physician shook his head candidly.
"I can't say for sure. But as one of the reclusive sects devoted solely to medicine, they have a wealth of clinical experience. I suspect they might uncover at least a small clue about your state. They're born healers who welcome patients with novel symptoms. I doubt they'll turn you away."
Tian Ailang got the sense these people sounded downright ridiculous. If they were as described, any crowd of variously afflicted folks showing up would turn into a party.
"Why do you keep calling me 'young master'?"
When Tian Ailang voiced the question that had been nagging him, the physician cracked a small smile.
"Truth be told, I'm one of the trainees at the Medical Pavilion. I've made enough progress to set up shop here temporarily for practice and to earn a bit. I've seen plenty of patients, including martial artists from the Murim. But none of them ever willingly offered their wrists for an examination."
"What's the big deal with the wrist?"
The young physician eyed Tian Ailang with astonishment at such a basic question from an obvious martial artist.
"Directly probing the internal energy of someone who's cultivated it can cause severe injury right away. In bad cases, it can even be fatal."
Tian Ailang widened his eyes in surprise.
"Is that so? I had no idea."
He recalled how the physician had seemed even more flustered when he'd casually extended his wrist. No wonder... It all made sense now, and Tian Ailang nodded.
Still regarding him with wonder, the physician bowed deeply and formally.
"I'm Seol Dong. As I mentioned, one of the Medical Pavilion's trainees. It feels like we've crossed paths for a good reason, so allow me to greet you properly."
Tian Ailang was caught off guard by the sudden formality—the bow was excessively deep, leaving him momentarily stunned and unsure how to respond. Snapping out of it, he returned the gesture.
"Tian Ailang. And that's too much. Please, rise."
Seol Dong lifted his head with a beaming smile.
"I've long awaited the day I'd meet a hero who defies common sense. Someone who gives off a fateful vibe from the first encounter. You strike me that way, young master. You're the first martial artist to offer me your wrist in complete trust!"
Tian Ailang narrowed his eyes at Seol Dong. What's with this guy? Is he nuts? Or...?
"Did you eat something bad?"
Ah, slipped out loud.
Even at Tian Ailang's gaffe, Seol Dong only grinned wider. The sight made Tian Ailang frown deeper. This is getting creepy.
Seol Dong, still chuckling, replied, "Hahaha! Even your modest deflection has such wit."
To put distance between himself and the odd physician, Tian Ailang backed away, but Seol Dong hurriedly bundled some things and thrust them forward. When Tian Ailang looked puzzled, Seol Dong explained with his perpetual smile.
"It's a tonic made by mixing dew-kissed water sage with pale scale grass slowly dried over charcoal, and a few other things. Good for your health—take it on your journey, and it'll do you good."
Tian Ailang was baffled. He'd pegged the man as half-mad moments ago, but this patient care seemed genuine enough. When he reached for his coin pouch to pay, Seol Dong waved his hands vigorously.
"No, no! Think of it as a small investment in your future. We're fated somehow, so I'm sure we'll meet again."
Tian Ailang eyed him, confirming his suspicions of eccentricity. He could've sworn he heard a faint "with me" tacked onto that bit about the young master's future, but decided not to dwell.
"Then I'll gratefully accept."
Tian Ailang tucked the referral note and six tonic pills into his robe before stepping out. It was a day that reminded him the world held kind yet peculiar folks.
With the wolf pelt proceeds from the clothier, he'd gotten new clothes fitted, seen the physician—now it was time for his planned final stop. He considered finding a kid like Dam Sohyeop to guide him but figured this town, though not as big as Shenyang, was small enough to scout on foot.
I wonder if Dam Sohyeop and Lady Soyeon are doing well.
Memories of the Dam siblings warmed him like a gentle breeze. They'd be fine, no doubt. If fate willed it, they'd meet again—but not now. In his current state, protecting them would be tough, and quite some time had passed since Shenyang. They'd likely returned home safely.
Lost in such thoughts, Tian Ailang found an inn. Pushing open the door unleashed a raucous wave of voices and savory aromas. With winter's chill driving folks inside, many huddled over hot meals.
The waiter greeted him briskly, and Tian Ailang ordered confidently. Come to think of it, this was his first time ordering—and paying—for himself. Everything was a first. He couldn't help chuckling.
"Five plates of dumplings to start!"
The waiter blinked in surprise before flashing a business smile and showing him to a seat.
* * *
The road west from Jeoseong to Janggagu wound through endless mountains. Tian Ailang let out a wry laugh at the sight. Do I have some deep karma with mountains or what?
His birthplace, the paths with the Dam siblings, the sites of great battles and misfortunes—all mountains. But after good food and rest, his body felt excellent despite lacking internal energy. His senses were even sharper than before, bringing a novel edge. There was also a faint tickle he couldn't place.
With a sack of inn-packed dumplings slung over his back, one clamped in his mouth, he climbed steadily when a gang of burly men suddenly burst onto the path. Their ragged clothes clashed absurdly with the winter cold.
Bandits?
First time for those too, it seemed. Lately, Tian Ailang was racking up new experiences, each bringing small joys. Is this what peace and happiness feel like?
"Kuhaha! Who walks this road alone without a care?"
"Brother, our chance at last. That guy's got decent clothes—must have some coin."
Tian Ailang counted them. "Ten?"
"Huh?"
The bandits reacted to his mutter. Tian Ailang pondered seriously before addressing them.
"With ten of you robbing one, does the math even work? This path is rough—no one's around."
True enough. Tian Ailang had cut straight across for speed, seeing no souls along the way. The terrain was so rugged even wild beasts were scarce.
The bandits debated his odd question earnestly.
"He's got a point, boss. Ten mouths to feed, no profit—we're scraping by. Living off grass roots these days."
"Right you are."
As they murmured, their apparent leader smacked his tongue loudly.
"Tch! Hey! You think we don't know that? Quit the weak talk!"
Tian Ailang cocked his head at their chatter. These bandits seemed a dim lot. And they all looked alike: grubby faces, unkempt beards, sturdy shovel jaws. Even the youngest, despite his bulk, was beardless.
Ah, kinda like me.
Tian Ailang plopped onto a nearby flat rock.
"Brothers?"
The bandits gawked at his nonchalance in their presence but hesitated to act—his poise was too extraordinary. Their picks, sickles, and bamboo spears dangled awkwardly in all directions.
"That's right! We're proud brothers all!"
Some bearded shovel-jaw hollered proudly—rank unknown. But his eyes quivered, locked on Tian Ailang's hand as he popped a dumpling into his mouth. Tian Ailang smirked and beckoned.
"Come sit. I'm a sucker for family and brotherhood, so I'll be generous."
He carefully set down his bulging pack. Unzipping it revealed five steaming plates of dumplings stacked high. The bandits edged closer hesitantly.
"No killing intent, doesn't look like you've ever held a weapon proper. No sense wasting energy—sit."
At Tian Ailang's gentle urging, another bearded type bristled, but the leader hushed him quick—sensing the subtle shift in Tian Ailang's aura up close. The boss pegged him as no ordinary man, a martial artist they couldn't match. He'd survived on sharp instincts.
"Have you ever killed?"
At the question, the quick-witted leader shook his head frantically and spilled their story.
"No, sir. We're just peasants driven to the hills by local tyrants' abuses and the noisy war. First time playing bandits."
Tian Ailang nodded in relief and handed him a dumpling. The leader accepted politely and, sharp as ever, introduced them.
"We're ten brothers: First Long, Second Long, Third Long, all the way to Tenth Long."
Their rustic names left Tian Ailang speechless. Reading his expression, First Long explained reluctantly.
"...Parents named us hoping we'd live long lives."
Tian Ailang stifled a laugh. First Long glanced warily before asking, "But you're... a martial artist, right, great hero?"
Tian Ailang smiled lightly. "You could say that. 'Great hero' is a bit much—call me young master. Heard it once and liked the ring."
First Long nodded vigorously. "Got it, young master!"
"Questions later. Eat dumplings first."
As the bandits still dithered, Tian Ailang tilted his head. "Or do you insist on robbing me? If so..."
They scrambled to sit as he made to stand and dust off. Starving enough to rob, but filling bellies without a fight? Good as done, they figured.
Tian Ailang watched them devour dumplings greedily. Despite their rough looks, they seemed simple folk at heart. Impressions aside, their essence rang true and good. Whatever drove them to banditry, redemption seemed possible.
"First Long."
The sudden call startled him mid-gaze at his munching brothers. He hurried over. "Y-yes, young master!"
"Planning to keep up the bandit life?"