Chapter 192
Chapter 192
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 192
Chapter Title: Sima Clan
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"Create blocked meridians for me?"
When Dang Mujin asked in return, Sima Rin nodded immediately.
"Yes."
Sima Rin's answer came without a hint of hesitation. Dang Mujin responded just as swiftly, without any hesitation of his own.
"What kind of nonsense is that?"
It was a rude reply, but Sima Rin didn't falter. She clearly hadn't expected him to accept her request easily.
"Dragon Physician. Could you hear me out for a moment?"
"Go ahead."
"I've been training with the sword since I was seven. And I can confidently say I trained harder than anyone else in the Sima Clan. I was the first one out to the training grounds in the morning and the last one to leave at night."
"And?"
"It's a bit embarrassing to say it myself, but I don't think my aptitude for the Five Arts was all that bad. I learned to read faster, grasped sword forms quicker, and understood the deeper meanings of the techniques before my older sisters and brothers did."
"Impressive. So?"
His voice carried a hint of indifference, but Sima Rin seemed to gain confidence from Dang Mujin's praise.
"The problem was my constitution—it wasn't suited for cultivating martial arts. No matter how much I focused on qi circulation and breathing exercises or consumed spirit elixirs, my internal energy barely grew. While I was stuck in place, unable to build up my internal energy, my older sisters and brothers who had lagged behind me, along with the promising youths from other clans, overtook me and reached first-rate. I'm still only at second-rate."
"How old are you now?"
"Twenty-three."
Even among the children of prestigious families, it's common not to reach first-rate by twenty-three.
In fact, reaching first-rate just past twenty is usually hailed as remarkable talent. It wouldn't be accurate to say Sima Rin lacks talent; she simply has average aptitude.
But Dang Mujin felt a subtle sense of unease.
'...How old was Hong Geolgae when he became first-rate?'
Dang Mujin and Hong Geolgae were the same age, and they first met at twenty.
The year after they met, when Hong Geolgae returned from following Great Stormwind, he had reached a level worthy of being called a true first-rate expert.
In other words, Hong Geolgae had become first-rate at twenty-one. He was the butt of jokes among his friends, but elsewhere, he was recognized as a prodigy.
Hong Geolgae's only crime was having friends who were far above average.
For some reason, Dang Mujin felt a pang of pity.
"...That doesn't sound particularly slow."
Noticing the shift in Dang Mujin's tone, Sima Rin pressed on more eagerly.
"I could have been so much greater. If only I'd had talent equal to others..."
"Average aptitude is still something. Sounds like the worries of the well-fed."
"My competition is different. I'm not competing with ordinary people—I'm up against the Sima Clan and the outstanding young talents from other families. It's desperate!"
As she spoke, Sima Rin tried to slip into Dang Mujin's bedroom. Of course, she couldn't breach his ironclad defense.
With a pout, Sima Rin asked.
"Anyway, about creating blocked meridians—is it possible? I need internal energy."
Dang Mujin understood her line of thinking. Accumulate imbalanced yin or yang qi through blocked meridians, then rapidly build internal energy while treating them.
It seemed feasible. If she focused on qi circulation and breathing before the balanced qi fully dispersed, she could acquire tremendous internal energy.
Of course, it would be internal energy without profound martial insight, but that was still better than being deficient in both.
Dang Mujin pondered deeply.
'Is it possible to create blocked meridians?'
Theoretically, yes. Just as treating meridians cures those suffering from blocked meridian syndrome, intentionally damaging them to cause imbalance should work.
But he felt a strong aversion.
Blocked meridians weren't a minor ailment—they were a deadly condition that killed people.
There was no guarantee an artificially induced blockage would mimic a natural one.
Moreover, while he'd treated blocked meridians before, he'd never created them, so something could go wrong in the process.
"It's dangerous. Even a slight mistake could leave you unable to cultivate internal energy, cripple a limb or worse. If luck's bad, you could die."
"I've prepared myself. Even if it's dangerous, it's fine!"
Dang Mujin stared at Sima Rin intently.
She didn't look like someone truly ready to face the risks. It felt more like childish optimism.
The vague hope that while it might be dangerous for others, she'd be fine.
Dang Mujin shook his head.
"No. I'm not okay with it. I don't like it."
"Why?"
"I'm a physician. Physicians heal people. They don't turn healthy people into patients."
Dang Mujin had plenty of experience killing or injuring people up to now.
But that was as the martial artist Dang Mujin. As a physician, he'd never harmed anyone.
Yet Sima Rin was trying to open the door to him harming someone as a physician.
When Dang Mujin reacted indifferently, Sima Rin slowly slipped off her outer robe, attempting to enter the room. With words failing, she seemed intent on using her body to resolve it.
Dang Mujin frowned and raised his left hand, pushing her forehead back with his index finger.
"Didn't I tell you not to come in? Before clinging like that, it might be wise to figure out if I even want you first."
He finally understood what Sima Yugong had meant before leaving with that 'Have a pleasant night' comment. What on earth did that old man discuss with his niece?
Sima Rin had assumed Dang Mujin would reluctantly accept her, but his stance was far more resolute than expected.
Now, an extremely awkward atmosphere hung between them.
Sima Rin desperately racked her brain. She felt like she could be chased off any moment. How could she persuade him? Nothing came to mind.
"I may lack talent, but I really, truly worked hard."
Dang Mujin examined her hands. They were indeed callused with small scars. She wasn't just saying it idly.
"Yeah. It shows."
"It's not a bad thing, right? And it's not putting an innocent person in danger. I'm the one asking, and I'm the one taking the risk. I'll pay the price too. You'll become a benefactor of the Sima Clan."
"Still no."
Sima Rin felt like she'd hit an impenetrable wall. To think there was a man immune to money and beauty.
Then, a sudden idea struck. It might not work well, but it was worth a shot.
"Wouldn't it be for the advancement of medicine?"
"Advancement of medicine?"
Unexpectedly, Dang Mujin showed curiosity. Sima Rin strung together her thoughts.
"Medicine wasn't perfected from the start like it is now. It must have been built through countless bold experiments and accumulated experiences. This could be a monumental achievement for you as a physician!"
Dang Mujin thought it over.
There were countless physicians in the world, but a physician's skill and fame were measured by how many ancient medical texts they had mastered.
Know a lot, and you're skilled; know little, and you're lacking.
From ancient times to now, physicians who surpassed their predecessors by creating original prescriptions or treatments were exceedingly rare. Even the most aggressive quack physicians merely collected formulas rather than inventing them.
But what Sima Rin proposed wasn't just adding one more prescription. It was more like expanding the boundaries of medicine itself.
It was a grand pioneering effort. One that could change the world.
What physician in this world could remain detached before such a massive legacy?
"You won't remain just a simple physician, Dragon Physician. You'll be remembered as a great warrior and physician who allowed hardworking martial artists without talent to compete with the talented ones. Countless people will praise you and the Dang family of Sichuan."
Dang Mujin glared at Sima Rin before cutting her off in a stiff voice.
"...Go back for now."
With that, he closed the door to his room.
Sima Rin stood before the closed door for a long while.
She hadn't spent the night inside, nor gotten a firm answer from Dang Mujin. Yet her heart felt lighter than ever.
She was certain her proposal had pierced his heart.
*
The next morning, the group headed to the Sima Clan, led by Sima Yugong and Sima Rin.
Namgung Myeong whispered quietly to Dang Mujin.
"While we're stuck here dallying, won't Youngi forget what her dad looks like?"
"No way."
"It could happen. They say kids forget faces after just a short time apart."
"But we can't help it right now. I might be carving my name into history. Not some tiny etching in a corner, but a massively huge name."
"Big dreams."
Namgung Myeong grumbled idly, but deep down, he found Dang Mujin's words convincing.
If he achieved something like that, it would be strange not to leave a mark in history. Descendants might forget emperors but remember Dang Mujin.
'If some other guy said this, I'd dismiss it as nonsense. But Dang Mujin... somehow, I think he can pull it off.'
Namgung Myeong recalled how long it had taken him to build his internal energy.
Actually, discussing "how long" was a bit off. He'd started sitting cross-legged and cultivating internal arts when he was half his current height, and the training continued to this day.
Cultivating internal energy through heart methods wasn't something finished with a few years of intense effort. It began the moment you started and lasted until death—an endless process that never truly ends.
But if Dang Mujin's attempt succeeded, everything would change. In mere months, anyone could gain immense internal energy.
No need for tedious cross-legged meditation. Just a few months of suffering, and you'd emerge with vast internal energy.
'A world where everyone easily and quickly builds internal energy, turning all into martial artists?'
Like children learning chopsticks or wood-chopping from parents, martial arts might become everyday learning for all.
What kind of world would that be? Namgung Myeong felt a vague dread toward the approaching future.
Soon, the grand gates of the Sima Clan came into view. And there, waiting outside, was Sima Jeong, the clan head. Spotting the group, he spread his arms wide in welcome.
"Young Master Dang. You've really come. A fine decision."
For the clan head to greet them at the gates—an exceptionally warm reception.
To be precise, the warmest welcome was reserved for Dang Mujin alone, while the other three received slightly less.
In any case, with Sima Jeong coming out to greet them, one thing was clear: this plan involved not just Sima Rin or Sima Yugong, but the entire Sima Clan.
Sima Yugong and Sima Jeong flanked Dang Mujin. No one found it odd. Everyone knew he was the star here.
Meanwhile, maids from the Sima Clan appeared beside Namgung Myeong, Hong Geolgae, and Hyun-gong.
"We'll escort you to the guest quarters. Please let us know anytime if you need anything."
"Yes."
Before being led too far from Dang Mujin, Namgung Myeong sent him a transmission.
- How long do you think it'll take?
- Not sure exactly. Even at shortest, a few months.
- That blocked meridians thing. Starting today?
- Can't do it right away on a person. But we need to check for potential issues first.
Sounds boring for a while. With that thought, Namgung Myeong followed the maids to the guest quarters.
*
Dang Mujin spent his days in Sima Yugong's residence, researching medicine alongside him. His time with friends was extremely limited.
But his friends could guess how busy he was, so they didn't demand his time.
Truth be told, guys pestering each other just to see faces felt awkwardly unpleasant anyway.
On the day the group first arrived at the Sima Clan, the maids had said to ask for anything needed.
Hyun-gong and Hong Geolgae had eagerly requested various things from the maids, who provided whatever they wanted—simple games, amusing gossip, exquisite delicacies.
But unlike them, the maids couldn't provide what Namgung Myeong desired. He found joy in challenges, not goods or food.
One deep night, Namgung Myeong sat up in bed. He felt like worms were crawling under his skin, driving him mad.
'I can't take it anymore.'
Namgung Myeong quietly rose, slid open the door, and stepped outside.
A fierce cold wind rushed in, piercing his clothes.
An ordinary person would have retreated in shock from the biting chill, but Namgung Myeong felt satisfied.
'Refreshing.'
Barefoot in socks, he leaped onto the roof without shoes. Then, kicking off, he soared to the next building.
'This is it.'
Eyes gleaming, Namgung Myeong roamed the Sima Clan freely. Worries of being caught by clan members and causing trouble vanished from his mind.
His head was filled only with the desire to steal something precious to others.
But it wasn't easy. Far too many people were still awake despite the late hour, and several seemed to possess high martial prowess.
Even Namgung Myeong, who prided himself on stealth, lacked confidence in fooling every eye.
'Sneakily, target the easy spots first.'
He scouted for buildings he could infiltrate undetected, poking around.
But no suitable target appeared. Unable to approach buildings, he couldn't even guess where valuables might be.
In the end, Namgung Myeong changed his goal.
'Recon today.'
His gaze shifted from grand structures to the clan's outskirts. To find the prison.
Namgung Myeong targeted the prison for a simple reason. His own Namgung Clan had one, and among its inmates were three petty thieves.
People imagine clan prisons holding mad ancestors or peerless demonic figures.
In reality, half the inmates were petty thieves, the other half minor demons caught in passing. His target: petty thieves.
'I'll coax one into revealing where valuables are.'
People mistakenly think elite guards watch clan prisons.
But with only small fry inside, there's no need for elites. Often, there's not even a jailer. The Namgung prison had none.
Unexpectedly, however, a wide-eyed jailer stood before the Sima Clan's prison.
'The Sima Clan is thorough.'
Instead of subduing the jailer and entering, Namgung Myeong decided to quietly scout the surroundings for signs of life.
He had no intention of causing a commotion by attacking needlessly, nor of finding an empty prison after sneaking in.
'There are prisoners, so there must be a jailer. But confirming won't hurt.'
Snow fell that night, making the surroundings even quieter than usual.
Pressing close to the prison wall, Namgung Myeong sensed signs of life emanating from within.
'The sounds come from below. The prison connects underground.'
He listened intently. His heightened hearing caught noises from underground.
Sounds from a winter prison are similar.
Prisoners shivering from cold, their ragged breaths. Groans enduring pain from beatings. Or mutterings of rage at the world.
But the only sounds reaching Namgung Myeong's ears were mad howls like those of beasts.
The moment he heard them, Namgung Myeong's face hardened.
No one locks beasts in a prison.