Chapter 288
Chapter 288
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 288
Chapter Title: Ember
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The group often stopped by villages to grab meals and spend the night. It might be manageable with just two or three people, but supplying food for over fifty while on the move was no easy task.
Shaolin Temple monks and Beggars' Sect disciples alike had no intention of harming the villagers, yet the locals feared the hordes of martial artists swarming about.
To ease their worries, Dang Mujin made a point of leaving small gifts behind in each village.
Not fleeting material rewards that vanished once used, but lasting ones that would truly help them for years to come.
In other words, medical knowledge.
As Dang Mujin stepped out of the inn, Hong Geolgae asked,
"Are you heading out again?"
"Yeah."
"I'll come with you."
Whenever Dang Mujin set off down the road, Hong Geolgae naturally fell in step beside him.
On ordinary days, Namgung Myeong and Hyeon-gong would have joined them too, but lately those two had been tied up with their own duties.
Hyeon-gong was busy teaching Seolha the ways of the Central Plains, while Namgung Myeong had cut back even on sleep to stand guard against ambushes.
The Blood-Faced Mad Wolf occasionally struck under cover of night, and his skill at moving through the darkness was such that no one but Namgung Myeong could counter him.
Namgung Myeong seemed to see right through wherever the Blood-Faced Mad Wolf tried to slink in.
Already, the Wolf had crept toward sleeping members of the group three times, only to be spotted by Namgung Myeong and flee.
Namgung Myeong's vigilance was essential to the group, but it was also quite rewarding for him—after all, it was a chance to test his skills against an absolute peak expert like the Blood-Faced Mad Wolf.
In the meantime, while Hyeon-gong and Namgung Myeong handled their tasks, Dang Mujin would visit local clinics, sharing bits of medical knowledge and checking on a patient or two in poor condition.
This was less repayment to the villagers and more the natural instinct of a physician.
While searching for a clinic, Dang Mujin turned to Hong Geolgae.
"But why do you keep tagging along? If you have nothing to do, you could rest."
"So I can pick up some medical skills. They'll come in handy someday."
"You think you can learn just by watching?"
"Of course. I'm better than your average village quack already."
Hong Geolgae's voice brimmed with confidence.
Truth be told, Dang Mujin's friends all had some knowledge of medicine. Not enough to call them master physicians, but as Hong Geolgae said, far superior to your run-of-the-mill hacks.
Namgung Myeong, Hong Geolgae, Hyeon-gong—the three of them had spent far too long at Dang Village, rubbing shoulders with countless doctors. Just eavesdropping and observing had given them plenty to mimic physicians.
Moreover, the trio had started from a stronger foundation than most novices.
While Dang Mujin had leveraged medicine to ease into martial arts, they had used martial arts to grasp the human body first, then absorbed medical knowledge on top of that.
Physicians who mended bodies and martial artists who broke them seemed polar opposites, but both demanded profound knowledge of human anatomy.
At last, Dang Mujin found the clinic and chatted with the young physician tending patients.
That was enough to steer the conversation and create an opening to demonstrate his skills.
When Dang Mujin practiced medicine before unfamiliar doctors, their reactions split neatly into two camps.
The charlatans with no real knowledge clamped their mouths shut and nodded vaguely, careful not to reveal their ignorance.
They sought easy livelihoods, not true medicine, so they never asked for teachings or posed questions.
Dang Mujin would share a few practical prescriptions with them.
Even that would greatly aid in treating the sick.
Just as quacks like Yeom Physician had lost daughters and wives to trivial ailments, not all life-threatening conditions required complex cures.
Those earnest about medicine, however, eagerly soaked up his lessons. This village's physician clearly fell into the latter group.
After hearing Dang Mujin out and watching him treat and prescribe for one patient, the young man bowed low, nearly prostrating himself.
"Thank you!"
Dang Mujin studied the young physician's appearance.
He seemed just past thirty, unusually young for the trade.
Few at that age took up doctoring just to fool people for a living.
Patients invariably eyed young physicians with suspicion. Overcoming that to earn respect demanded iron will and relentless effort.
Dang Mujin asked the young physician,
"What was your name again?"
"Wang Bu. My parents named me hoping I'd grow rich. I'm walking a very different path, though."
"I see. Brother Wang, where did you learn your medicine?"
"Wandering nearby villages, picking it up as I went."
"Would you like to study it properly someday?"
"I've thought about it, but opportunity hasn't come."
No sooner had Wang Bu finished than Dang Mujin handed him a gold ingot.
A fortune hard to come by in these backwaters. Wang Bu stiffened, tense.
Dang Mujin said,
"Use this for travel expenses and head to Dang Village. You'll learn the Central Plains' foremost medicine there."
But Wang Bu hesitated at the offer.
"Dang Village? With my skills, it might be a bit..."
He seemed to have heard of the place.
In truth, Dang Mujin hadn't met a doctor lately who didn't know of Dang Village—not even beyond the Yellow River up north.
"Dang Village values attitude over skill—how seriously you take medicine. No need to worry. Honestly, Brother Wang, you're not lagging behind either."
"How do they judge how serious someone is?"
"If you've come all the way to Dang Village, that's serious enough."
In short, anyone who showed up asking to learn wasn't turned away.
Wang Bu laughed heartily.
"Very well. But the world's unpredictable, so could you tell me your name? Unlucky folks break their noses falling backward, as they say. I might be the first sent packing. But if I say you recommended me, they might let me stay."
Dang Mujin reached into his robe and drew a needle from his case, handing it to Wang Bu.
"Show them this and say Dang Mujin sent you."
Wang Bu's eyes widened twice. First at the needle finer than ox hair, then again as he recalled where he'd heard the name Dang Mujin.
"Dang Mujin...!"
A young doctor bold enough to speak of Dang Village—his hunch had been right.
Wang Bu trembled with unexpected fortune.
"I'll go. Soon as I finish with these patients, I'll head straight for Sichuan Province."
"See you in Sichuan Province."
With that, Dang Mujin wrapped up and left Wang Bu's clinic.
Hong Geolgae walked silently beside him, lost in thought.
"What're you thinking?"
"That there's so much to learn."
"Medicine? You should study it for real."
"No. It's your knack for casually revealing your identity and strutting around like a big shot."
"...Me, strutting? Don't twist it that way."
Lately, Hong Geolgae had grown a bit anxious.
By the original plan, he should have already showcased his skills before the other Beggars' Sect disciples.
But things had gone awry. The Shaolin monks' Thirty-Six Formation was too solid; no fights had broken out.
'Should I just bust out the Anti-Dragon Eighteen Palms I learned? Nah, that'd be too embarrassing...'
Deep in thought, Hong Geolgae followed Dang Mujin back to the inn.
*
The next evening, Dang Mujin's group arrived near the Mad Wolf Clan stronghold.
Sure enough, the Blood-Faced Mad Wolf circled restlessly around them.
He was clearly cornered, but his reaction deviated from expectations.
Sin Seung furrowed his brow.
"Still not coming? What a cowardly bastard."
Even a mid-tier sect would fight to the death to defend their home from arson.
Yet the Blood-Faced Mad Wolf, leader of the Mad Wolf Clan, showed no sign of approaching. He valued his life dearly.
The group had headed to the Mad Wolf Clan not to burn it down, but to lure the Wolf out for execution. Now things had twisted unexpectedly.
Worse, lingering here wouldn't draw him in.
Namgung Myeong asked Sin Seung,
"What now?"
"We've come this far; can't go back empty-handed. Guess we'll keep our promise and torch the place."
Then a booming shout echoed from afar. The Blood-Faced Mad Wolf.
"Cowards! Come out of the village!"
His intent to drag them out was plain as day.
Pathetic, a frightened man who wouldn't approach calling others cowards. Especially with one ear missing, his head wrapped in cloth—it made it all the more ridiculous.
'He must have known it could come to this.'
Before setting the fire, they'd rummaged the Mad Wolf Clan grounds for anything useful. No rare manuals or treasures. The Wolf had taken them already.
Still, the buildings remained. Sprawling, grand structures fit for the Mad Wolf Clan.
One could scarcely imagine the atrocities committed to build a sect this size.
"Lucky the buildings are spaced far from the walls. The fire won't spread."
"I think so too."
After a quick scan, the fifty-odd members gathered to decide who would light the blaze.
Yet no one stepped forward. Arson felt too extreme, stirring reluctance.
The Blood-Faced Mad Wolf shouted again from outside.
"Stop right there! If you push me, I won't hold back anymore! Don't think I'll let it slide like before!"
Everyone chuckled despite themselves.
No one took his nonsense seriously.
Throwing daggers, shooting arrows, herding unorthodox fighters to battle, sneaking up to kill sleepers—that was his idea of "mercy"?
Hyeon-gong whispered to Dang Mujin,
"How about the veteran steps up?"
"Veteran? What..."
In the past, Dang Mujin had locked Salmak assassins in a building and burned it to the ground.
Truth be told, this was tame by comparison. Just setting an empty building ablaze—what was the big deal?
But before Dang Mujin could volunteer, Sin Seung stepped up as the villain.
"The one who brought it up should handle it, right?"
Sin Seung tossed firewood onto a bonfire, then strode the grounds, igniting each building.
The small flames swiftly climbed pillars to the roofs, casting a red glow as they slowly enveloped the structures.
Rage thickened the Blood-Faced Mad Wolf's voice.
"I warned you! Now there's nothing left for you to take! Everything from here on is your fault!"
Hong Geolgae sneered at the Wolf.
"That guy's got a real talent for acting wronged. Anyone'd think he'd lived honorably."
Ever attuned to petty mindsets, Hyeon-gong chimed in.
"Some people are like that. They forget their own crimes but nurse every loss or slight."
The inferno spread slowly, consuming the Mad Wolf Clan.
The Shaolin Temple monks and Dang Mujin's group watched impassively, but the Beggars' Sect disciples were visibly thrilled.
To finish Geolsun's vengeance, they'd still need to kill the Blood-Faced Mad Wolf, but this was a fine start to retribution.
*
The group lingered until the Mad Wolf Clan lay in ashes, then turned back the way they'd come.
Their thoughts aligned: how to lure and execute the Blood-Faced Mad Wolf?
No brilliant ideas surfaced. How do you hunt a high-skilled coward?
After about a day heading back, they spotted something odd.
The village they'd left two days prior. A large zelkova tree stood before it, something dangling and swaying from its branches.
Suppressing a grim premonition, the group approached.
Hanging from the tree were people. Not one, but nine.
A monk muttered,
"The five on the left are the innkeeper, waiters, and cooks. Who are the other four?"
This time, Beggars' Sect disciples answered.
"The next two are the ones who gave us food as alms."
Dang Mujin eyed the rightmost body with cold eyes. He recognized the two on the far right.
Young physician Wang Bu, and the patient Dang Mujin had treated at his clinic.
The corpses weren't even clean. They'd been hacked up before hanging—wounds riddled limbs and torsos indiscriminately.
They'd died recently; blood still dripped steadily.
Veins bulged on Sin Seung's wrinkled forehead.
"Despicable. How dare he drag innocents into a martial dispute for revenge?"
Beggars' Sect disciples murmured.
"Foolish. This'll bring the authorities in. Why stir trouble for no gain?"
"I hear the law's reach is weak north of the Yellow River. Still, they won't ignore it..."
Yet even imagining official punishment for the Blood-Faced Mad Wolf yielded no answers.
If Shaolin Temple and the Beggars' Sect couldn't catch him together, how could officials?
Dang Mujin flung flying rings to sever the ropes around all nine necks.
As the bodies hit the ground, writing in blood appeared on their backs.
"What's it say?"
Dang Mujin approached a corpse and pieced together the characters on its back.
[Think about who these people died because of.]
Dang Mujin rose with a icy expression, thinking.
The answer to that question belonged carved into the Blood-Faced Mad Wolf's back hide.