Chapter 207
Chapter 207
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 207
Chapter Title: Wuchang
-----------------------------------------------------------------
In truth, Namgung Myeong's attitude was somewhat lukewarm.
"There's something I need to clear up first. I don't harbor any romantic feelings for Lady Jeong, as you seem to think."
"Really? For someone who doesn't, the way you treat us and the way you treat Lady Jeong are worlds apart."
At Dang Mujin's sharp observation, Namgung Myeong responded as if he'd heard utter nonsense.
"I show that level of courtesy to anyone I meet. If anything, Lady Jeong is someone I treat without much formality."
Dang Mujin nodded as if to say that made sense, but the rest of the group were inwardly impressed that Namgung Myeong could be even more formal than that.
Dang Mujin crossed his arms and fell deep into thought.
As a result, he concluded that Namgung Myeong's claim of not having feelings for Lady Jeong was likely true, nine times out of ten. After all, when Dang Mujin had first met him, Namgung Myeong hadn't tried to flirt with the woman they'd met on the ship.
Namgung Myeong spoke up.
"Still, among all the marriage prospects that came up, Lady Jeong was the best. Her background is a bit lacking, but aside from that, she was a fine person. Unlike the usual women who only care about dolling themselves up, she consistently practiced her martial arts and has a fair bit of learning. She's not pretentious, either."
"Yeah. I could tell she's not pretentious."
"Plus, unlike the other women I've either never met or only seen once or twice, Lady Jeong hails from a nearby region, so we've known each other since childhood. But that's the extent of it."
"I see."
Dang Mujin gave an appropriate nod, trying to wrap up the conversation, but Namgung Myeong wasn't done yet.
". . . That said, the fact that she didn't call off the marriage even after learning I'd been disowned is impressive. I also liked how she showed concern for my left arm rather than disappointment. And one more thing—it's good that she went around looking for a guardian for Wang Jincheong despite his ragged appearance. Her character seems even finer than I remembered."
His attitude was indifferent, but his favorable assessment went on in oddly great detail. It seemed their brief recent encounter had left a strong impression.
'Looks like he's not entirely without feelings for her. Well, can't blame him.'
Comparing the old Namgung Myeong to the current one, the present version was in a far worse state. A martial artist who had lost an arm, and the heir to a great clan who had also lost his family's halo.
Few people, regardless of gender, could maintain an unchanged attitude in such circumstances. Whether she could understand his bizarre habit of roof-running every night was another question.
Realizing he'd been rambling on, Namgung Myeong belatedly adopted a nonchalant demeanor.
"But that's where it ends. I plan to live as a wanderer for the foreseeable future, so marriage is off the table. Even if I were to look for a spouse, it'd be after I return to the Namgung Clan and claim the patriarch's seat—or after I've established myself in some other way."
Dang Mujin nodded. With Namgung Myeong's stance so firm, there was no reason to force a match with Lady Jeong.
"Got it. If you ever need help down the line, let me know. With my assistance, winning her heart wouldn't be hard."
Namgung Myeong's expression turned subtly strange only after Dang Mujin's confident reply.
"Ah . . . well, sure."
"Since we've run into each other again anyway, why not go apologize to Lady Jeong properly? She waited five years for you. Least you can do."
"You're right."
Just as the conversation seemed to wrap up, Hyeon-gong and Hong Geolgae huddled together and posed a question to Dang Mujin.
"Dang Mujin. Just to be sure."
"Yeah?"
"Among the people staying at the Dang Family Clinic, who do you think likes you the most?"
"It's hard to rank them, but it'd be one of three. My father, Dan Seoryeong, and Yeong-i. Though Yeong-i seems to like her mom more than me. Kids usually prefer their mothers when they're young."
"And the fourth?"
Hong Geolgae, Namgung Myeong, and Hyeon-gong focused intently on Dang Mujin's answer.
But Dang Mujin couldn't think of anyone fitting.
"Hmm. Who could it be."
After a moment's thought, an unpleasant suspicion arose. Frowning, Dang Mujin said,
"You're not asking because you want to know where you rank, are you?"
Hyeon-gong immediately waved his hands.
"Of course not. Anyway, got it."
"Got what?"
"You know."
The three exchanged glances, sighed deeply, and thought of one person.
Including Wang Jincheong, the five resumed watching the martial tournament.
Time flew by as they watched unskilled martial artists desperately swing their swords.
In the midst of it, Namgung Myeong let out an exclamation.
"Huh?"
"What? Know him?"
"That guy over there. It's Jeong Taeryeong. Lady Jeong's brother."
Jeong Taeryeong was a man with upright posture. His skills seemed quite solid compared to the other participants' average. With a bit of luck, he could even aim for victory.
"Looks like Lady Jeong came to Wuchang to cheer on her brother competing in the tournament."
"Seems that way."
But something felt off. Jeong Taeryeong's face was full of tension.
"His skills look decent. Why does he seem so nervous?"
"Maybe he's not used to showing off in front of crowds? Some people are really shy."
"Could be."
Next, Jeong Taeryeong's opponent climbed onto the stage.
Unlike Jeong Taeryeong, who wielded a sword, his opponent appeared to specialize in fist and kick techniques, with thick calluses on his knuckles and small scars covering his forearms.
"Begin!"
At the announcer's call, the two clashed.
After exchanging three exchanges, Hyeon-gong gave a cool assessment.
"Jeong Taeryeong has the edge. If he doesn't rush, victory is certain."
No one objected.
But the match unfolded a bit differently than the group expected.
Jeong Taeryeong's opponent focused solely on defending vitals while adopting an extremely aggressive stance. The best response a lesser martial artist could muster against a superior one. Yet something about it felt off.
A lesser fighter facing a superior one gives flesh to take bone.
But this opponent seemed willing to give his own bone just to take Jeong Taeryeong's flesh. Extremely aggressive, yet as if he didn't expect victory himself—an odd attitude.
Dang Mujin's group recognized this style. Assassins from the Flesh Veil.
Assassins were willing to sacrifice their lives to wound their target, trusting their comrades to finish the job.
Frowning, Dang Mujin said,
"That guy's a remnant of the Flesh Veil?"
Hyeon-gong disagreed with the guess.
"Doesn't seem like it. An assassin wouldn't show his face in public. If he truly aimed to kill, it'd be easier outside the arena. Besides, his techniques aren't unorthodox, and though his forms are reckless, they're not killing blows."
"Then why fight like that?"
"Who knows."
Jeong Taeryeong tried to proceed methodically, but his opponent's ferocious momentum prevented him from widening the gap steadily.
Soon after, the match ended with Jeong Taeryeong's victory. But he had taken a vicious palm strike to the abdomen.
"Winner: Jeong Taeryeong of the Precious Origin Sect!"
The announcer declared Jeong Taeryeong's win, but his expression wasn't bright.
To make matters worse, a thin trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth. His Adam's apple bobbed occasionally, as if he was forcing down surging vomit.
As Jeong Taeryeong descended the stage, Lady Jeong appeared to support him.
"His internal injuries must be serious."
At Namgung Myeong's mutter, Dang Mujin spoke.
"Namgung Myeong. You're going to see Lady Jeong anyway, right?"
"Yeah."
"Mind checking on Jeong Taeryeong's condition while you're at it?"
"That'd be good."
His physician's instincts stirred. Treating a patient with internal injuries was only natural.
Plus, his sister Lady Jeong had saved Wang Jincheong from peril, so exchanging favors evened the score.
Dang Mujin's group asked around the crowd and tournament staff to find the inn where Lady Jeong and Jeong Taeryeong were staying.
The Jeong siblings were at a modest inn—neither shabby nor luxurious.
Pressing his ear to the door of Jeong Taeryeong's room revealed three voices inside: the siblings and what seemed to be a physician provided by the tournament organizers.
". . . I can prescribe medicine to dispel blood and warm the body, but I can't guarantee improvement. It's not a simple stomachache."
"For quick results, which physician should we see?"
"You might find better ones elsewhere in the world, but there's no one in Wuchang superior to me."
The physician's tone was humble yet brimming with confidence.
A hacking cough and retching followed, and Lady Jeong's voice grew heavier.
"Isn't there anything we can do?"
". . . I'm sorry. My skills fall short; I have no better method."
A deep sigh and rustling sounds came next, then the door opened, and a wizened physician emerged.
Dang Mujin's group stepped aside to let him pass, then led Namgung Myeong inside.
The sudden visitors left Lady Jeong and Jeong Taeryeong visibly flustered. Even while vomiting blood, Jeong Taeryeong rose to clasp hands in greeting toward Namgung Myeong. A remarkably mature response.
"Young Lord Namgung. I heard you've been through tough times, but your presence is far more refined than before. Cough, cough!"
Jeong Taeryeong vomited blood noisily right after speaking. Lady Jeong hurriedly held a basin to catch it.
Dang Mujin eyed the dark red blood in the basin. The volume was substantial, but fortunately, no organ fragments were mixed in. No organ damage.
Lady Jeong wiped her brother's mouth, then asked Namgung Myeong with a somewhat prickly expression.
"Namgung Myeong. Why are you here?"
"Thought I could help."
"You saw what happened. This isn't the time for marriage talk. Tell me where you're staying, and I'll visit soon."
"That's not it. I came because I can help Brother Jeong."
Namgung Myeong had come to apologize. But if he could offer more than words, all the better.
And with Dang Mujin eager to treat Jeong Taeryeong, things aligned perfectly.
Of course, Lady Jeong and Jeong Taeryeong didn't grasp the situation.
"What help?"
"Don't you need a physician?"
"The man who just left is Wuchang's best. But even he said there's nothing to be done right now."
Namgung Myeong smirked.
"He was until yesterday. Not anymore."
"What are you talking about?"
"Who's the best physician in the Central Plains?"
Lady Jeong pouted her lips briefly before answering.
"The Divine Physician's long dead, so the Strange Physician or Demonic Physician, I suppose. Lately, the Dragon Physician's been more famous."
"Right. I brought the Dragon Physician."
"What?"
Lady Jeong and Jeong Taeryeong wore expressions of utter disbelief.
To Dang Mujin's group, Namgung Myeong was a guy who spouted nonsense whenever he opened his mouth, but to the Jeong siblings, he wasn't one to babble idly.
A few years ago, Namgung Myeong had been reasonably normal.
All eyes naturally turned to Dang Mujin. He stepped forward with a calm expression.
"I'm Dang Mujin of the Sichuan Dang Family Clinic. Might I take your pulse?"
Lady Jeong and Jeong Taeryeong looked utterly bewildered.
How could a top-tier Central Plains physician pop up right after the injury? The situation was bizarre no matter how you sliced it.
But setting the timing aside, the man before them matched the rumored Dragon Physician perfectly.
The humbly named Dang Family Clinic. The name Dang Mujin. And a young, neat-looking man.
Lady Jeong felt inwardly delighted but opened cautiously, more formally than with Namgung Myeong.
"No offense, but my brother's injury is an internal affliction from the match. It's in the realm of medicine but also a martial artist's domain, so even the Dragon Physician might . . ."
"No, it's fine."
Jeong Taeryeong cut her off with a cough.
"All four of you are martial artists. And far more accomplished than I."
"Four? All of you? Not just Namgung Myeong?"
So shocked was she that Lady Jeong let out a strange noise. It was hard to accept that these men, who looked younger than her brother, were all so skilled.
Even granting the other three, she couldn't fathom Dang Mujin's prowess. Was it possible for someone so young to excel in both martial arts and medicine?
"Well, one of them might not be that far above . . . anyway, the other three are beyond my sword's reach."
Despite his poor condition, Jeong Taeryeong spoke with competitive spirit. Only Hong Geolgae looked uneasy.
Lady Jeong seemed to accept it, so Dang Mujin knelt before Jeong Taeryeong.
"If you'd extend your wrist."
Jeong Taeryeong complied readily, and Dang Mujin checked his condition. As expected, tangled qi and blood were the issue; the wound itself wasn't severe.
Dang Mujin pulled out his needle case for the first time in a while and rolled up Jeong Taeryeong's upper garment.
A bluish handprint marred Jeong Taeryeong's abdomen, a painful sight that tensed Lady Jeong.
But Dang Mujin ignored it and inserted needles into the abdomen.
Needling the afflicted area was risky, but he was confident he could avoid complications.
Infusing internal energy through the needles, he straightened the tangled qi and blood, slowly regulating the body.
Less than half a shichen later, Jeong Taeryeong's condition improved markedly. Color returned to his face, and his breathing grew steady.
Dang Mujin wiped the needles and stored them as he spoke.
"I've handled the immediate crisis. Take a blood-dispelling decoction and rest four or five days. No issues will arise."
"Thank you."
Jeong Taeryeong expressed sincere gratitude.
But Dang Mujin pondered a small dilemma. It might seem meddlesome, but he had more advice for Jeong Taeryeong.
In the end, he decided.
'He won't take it badly.'
Dang Mujin said to Jeong Taeryeong,
"Brother Jeong. You seem to invest tremendous time in swordsmanship and fist techniques."
"Of course. Inadequate as I am, I am a martial artist."
"Commendable. But the excess is the problem."
"Pardon?"
Dang Mujin hadn't expected instant understanding.
He traced two lines from Jeong Taeryeong's fingertips to his chest with his finger. For non-physicians, this was the best way to explain acupoints.
"Your Hand Greater Yang Small Intestine Meridian and Hand Lesser Yang Triple Burner Meridian flow with remarkable agility."
Then he drew two lines from the feet up to the abdomen.
"But your Foot Terminal Yin Liver Meridian and Foot Yang Brightness Stomach Meridian lag behind. Balancing this would greatly boost your cultivation."
His words hit the mark, widening Jeong Taeryeong's eyes.
"How did you . . . no. What should I do?"
"Dedicate two shichen daily to lightness skill training. Focus on long-distance movement arts rather than short, complex steps. No need for sword practice. In a month, you'll see great gains in lightness skill and swordsmanship."
Jeong Taeryeong knew only one person in the world could offer such advice. What fortune to encounter this opportunity through injury.
But he hesitated.
"Thank you. One problem, though."
"What is it?"
"You said rest four or five days. I can't. I must fight in the arena again tomorrow."
"Why?"
"Because if I don't win this tournament, my sister will be forced into an unwanted marriage."
Dang Mujin's group turned not to Jeong Taeryeong or Lady Jeong, but to Namgung Myeong.
Namgung Myeong frowned slightly.
"Why look at me?"
"You okay with that?"
"Of course—"
As Namgung Myeong started to reply obliviously, Hong Geolgae infused his kick with full internal energy, striking Namgung Myeong's shin.
"You okay with that?"
". . . Doesn't seem like it."
Namgung Myeong shed tears for the first time in ages.