Chapter 112
Chapter 112
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 112
Chapter Title: Chusu
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Dang Mujin had come looking for an impostor posing as the Strange Physician. That meant he had to consider two perspectives: his own position upon discovering someone impersonating his master, and the position of the real Strange Physician being impersonated.
The one that took priority wasn't his own—it was the Strange Physician's.
And if it were the Strange Physician Dang Mujin remembered, he never would have killed this man.
With that in mind, Dang Mujin let out a soft sigh and released his grip on the sword hilt.
"What's your name?"
"...Chusu."
A flicker of bewilderment crossed Chusu's face as he answered.
In a situation like this, asking for a name—and letting go of the sword hilt—looked an awful lot like he wasn't going to be killed.
"You're going to let me live?"
"Yeah. My master wouldn't have killed you."
Chusu's rigid legs began to tremble belatedly. The slight quiver grew until he could no longer hold it back, and he collapsed onto the ground like he'd taken a spill on his backside. It was the complete opposite of the composed demeanor he'd shown up to now.
Chusu had been able to face Dang Mujin with such steady confidence not because he wasn't afraid, but because he'd stared certain death in the face. No matter what he did, there was no escaping it.
When a martial artist in the jianghu gets caught trading on a famous name, nine times out of ten they end up dead. Even the rare survivor doesn't walk away unscathed.
Yet Chusu had survived, and he saw it as a miracle.
Dang Mujin grabbed Chusu's right hand and helped him to his feet as he spoke.
"Sorry about your nose and left hand."
"No need. For impersonating a jianghu man and getting off this lightly? I'm damn lucky. Besides, my face was ugly enough already—no great loss flattening my nose a bit."
"Since it's come to this, stick around for dinner. You've gotta explain the whole story to the guys who came all this way for nothing."
Dang Mujin ambled off casually, and Chusu limped along behind him.
*
When Dang Mujin emerged from the village with Chusu in tow, Dan Seolyeong and Namgung Myeong were preparing dinner. Calling it "preparing" was generous—it was just laying out travel rations on one of those broad leaves common in Guangdong Province.
Dan Seolyeong glanced at Chusu and asked Dang Mujin,
"The mood looked pretty tense earlier—what happened that you two came back together?"
"It just worked out that way."
Neither Dan Seolyeong nor Namgung Myeong had any complaints about Dang Mujin's decision. Unlike him, they held no grudge against Chusu.
The four of them shared a simple meal and talked. Naturally, Chusu was the center of the conversation.
"You said earlier you'd met the Strange Physician old man. How'd that happen?"
Dang Mujin spoke half-casually, feeling a twinge of awkwardness. Chusu was easily twice his age.
Of course, he knew that people of higher status or jianghu folk often addressed elders casually. Dang Mujin just wasn't used to it.
But given the circumstances, switching to polite speech now would feel off.
Chusu, for his part, didn't care about such things at all. If anything, he seemed more accustomed to the casual tone.
"I used to be a third-rate escort. My escort agency got into a scrap with some bandits—my leg snapped, hole punched in my gut, just waiting to die. Then out of nowhere, the Strange Physician shows up, saves my life, and vanishes. That was it."
It was a far plainer connection than expected. Odds were, the Strange Physician had forgotten Chusu's face within days.
"So you decided to impersonate him? Something doesn't add up."
"At first, no such thought crossed my mind. But when I got back to the agency and tried heading out on another escort run, I froze at the thought of drawing my sword."
Dan Seolyeong jumped in.
"What's there to be scared of? Escorts have plenty of fight experience, don't they?"
Chusu shook his head.
"Escort runs rarely involve actual fighting. Even if bandits show up, you toss 'em a toll and move on. The problem's those rare bastards who take the toll and still make trouble... Anyway, I was too scared to escort anymore. That's when the Strange Physician popped into my head. Thought, 'If I become a physician, that'd be perfect.'"
"Couldn't have been easy."
Chusu nodded at Dang Mujin's words.
"You're right. Figured I'd freeload at some clinic, help out, pick up medicine on the side—but hardly any place like that. 'Can't leak family secrets,' they said... So I quit that, trailed herb gatherers instead. They know some healer tricks. Saved up coin by coin, bought medical texts and studied."
"That must've been even tougher."
Chusu nodded again.
Crude manuals passed down in quack clinics are simple enough, but classics like the Treatise on Cold Damage or the Inner Classic? Self-studying those is next to impossible.
Simple reason: they're brutally difficult. Even most self-proclaimed physicians never master them. No way Chusu had fully grasped them on his own.
Dang Mujin now understood why Chusu's medicine was so hit-or-miss.
A smattering from texts, folk remedies from herb gatherers, rumors from the streets. All jumbled together into Chusu's "practice."
Passed down a few generations with experience and notes, it might shape into decent quackery. But Chusu becoming a real physician anytime soon? Fat chance.
Chusu muttered,
"The Strange Physician saved a guy with a hole in his gut like it was nothing. Me? Couldn't even handle a simple boil properly. People died on me despite slaving all day. Got to thinking a bone-picker's life might help more folks, so I shadowed one I met on the road."
Chusu: third-rate warrior, quack physician, bone-picker.
He might not excel at escorting or doctoring, but his bone-picker act was convincing. He recited sutras without a hitch.
But Namgung Myeong latched onto the fourth career Chusu hadn't mentioned.
"Heard you dabbled in thieving too. Attracted to the noble thief life?"
"Nah. Never stolen a thing in my life."
Namgung Myeong looked hugely disappointed at Chusu's firm denial.
What had he been hoping for? Surely not planning to learn pickpocketing from him.
"Not even once? Plenty of folks claimed you stole their stuff."
"With all the patients who gave me gifts before dying... yeah."
Chusu paused, then continued.
"Like I said, I'm a quack. No real doctor's gonna let me near their turf. Only places I can work are ones docs avoid or abandon. If no survivors, even if they paid me, no one's left to say I earned it. Gifts or payment for services? Suddenly it's 'stolen goods.'"
"Ah, got it."
"Besides, no need to steal. People's generosity peaks right before death. Lifelong misers turn big-hearted when the end nears. Dealing only with the most open-handed folks—who needs to steal?"
"Makes sense."
"Folks calling me thief or graverobber? Understandable. Hawking the dead's stuff for a living looks shady to anyone."
For the first time in ages—or maybe ever—Chusu seemed utterly at ease spilling his story.
Dang Mujin pondered deeply. If the old man were alive, how would he handle this?
The answer was simple. He called out,
"Chusu."
Chusu turned to look at him.
"I get your plight, but I'm not letting you keep impersonating the old man."
"Naturally. Not shameless enough to ask that. Guess I'll bone-pick from here on. Maybe shave my head while I'm at it. Ditch fake doctor, become fake monk."
Dang Mujin shook his head.
"No, that's not it. I'll teach you medicine. So you can treat patients under your own name, not his."
Listening to Chusu, Dang Mujin recalled a certain physician. The Divine Physician Yanghun.
The Divine Physician was said to possess the world's finest medicine, yet shared it with no one.
Chusu was the utter opposite. Mediocre skills, but eager to give what he had to anyone.
No overlap between them. Neither truly deserved "physician," but if one had to be called that, Dang Mujin chose Chusu.
A man who doesn't hammer iron can't be called a smith. One who doesn't treat patients isn't a physician.
Crucially, Dang Mujin could provide what Chusu lacked.
"Chusu. Ever heard of the Divine Physician Yanghun?"
"I'm a hack, but even I know the Three Great Physicians' names. Never reach that level in my lifetime."
"You can. I can teach you his medicine."
Dang Mujin thought: If Chusu masters the Divine Physician Yanghun's arts, the Central Plains will finally meet the real deal.
Chusu, of course, gaped like he'd heard nonsense.
"You're the Strange Physician's disciple, right? His medicine, sure—but how the Divine Physician's?"
"I've mastered all Three Great Physicians' arts and have their texts."
Namgung Myeong already knew—from eavesdropping on Dang Mujin and Ha Ryeong's talk when they first met her in Zhongjing.
Dan Seolyeong, however, had no clue and yelped in shock.
"What? How do you have all three texts?"
"...You didn't know? Thought it was obvious."
"How would I!"
"You saw the Complete Medical Encyclopedia in the clinic."
"...That was a big deal?"
Dan Seolyeong's hands shook as if from a bombshell.
*My husband's even more amazing than I thought...*
While she reeled, Dang Mujin told Chusu,
"If you want to learn, follow me. Master the Divine Physician's arts, take on disciples. Spread his medicine across the Central Plains again. Replace the fake Strange Physician with the real physician—Divine Physician Chusu."
Dang Mujin steadied his breath and asked,
"Decide now. Will you come with me?"
No need for long thought. Chusu nodded like he was entranced.