Chapter 316
Chapter 316
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 316
Chapter Title: Wooden Slips
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"Is that blood I smell somewhere?"
When Dang Mujin spoke up, Hong Geolgae replied.
"Who knows. I don't smell anything."
Dang Mujin looked around. Seolhwa tilted her head as if she couldn't detect the scent, while Namgung Myeong and Hyeon-gong were busy chatting among themselves and hadn't heard Dang Mujin at all.
'Did I imagine the smell?'
It wasn't a strong, unmistakable odor. Just a faint whiff of blood drifting in the air.
Hong Geolgae added a comment.
"Could be my nose isn't picking it up. Maybe someone's butchering a cow nearby."
"If they were, folks would be crowding around to watch."
Slaughtering a cow was no small affair. In a village this size, the whole place would turn out to gawk.
Yet the people passing by weren't heading toward any spectacle. They were just stealing glances at Dang Mujin's group.
Dang Mujin eyed them back. The villagers of Suk-song didn't look all that friendly.
Few women, mostly men—and among the men, plenty in their prime working years rather than kids or elders.
They seemed accustomed to weapons, too. They barely batted an eye at Dang Mujin's crew each carrying their own arms. They just frowned a bit and gave them a wide berth.
Dang Mujin approached the nearest man. A fellow with a nose like a kid's fist.
"Excuse me, could I ask you something?"
"...What?"
Not the friendliest vibe. Dang Mujin pressed on regardless.
"Weren't there two physicians who came to Suk-song a while back? Pretty old gentlemen."
"Don't know."
If the guy had at least pretended to think it over, Dang Mujin might've let it go with a nod. But there wasn't a shred of sincerity in his voice.
Something about the attitude rubbed Dang Mujin the wrong way, so he kept at it.
"They definitely said they were heading to Suk-song. In a small village like this, how could you miss outsiders coming and going?"
"I said I don't know. You think Suk-song's the only village around? Probably went somewhere else."
Dang Mujin hadn't considered that. He backed off sheepishly, and the big-nosed man edged away from him.
Returning to the group, Dang Mujin said,
"Looks like finding those two physicians might mean wandering the nearby villages a bit."
Hyeon-gong responded.
"That's surprising. I figured we'd run into them right here in this village."
"Why's that?"
"On the way to the Namgung estate, that physician we met described a rough place full of injuries and sickness. These folks have that gritty look in their eyes, so I thought the elders would be here."
Dang Mujin agreed with Hyeon-gong's reasoning.
Still, pushing when the locals claimed ignorance felt off, so he didn't grab the big-nosed guy again.
Just to be thorough, though, Dang Mujin approached a couple more people and asked if they'd seen Physician Yang or Physician Yeom. Same answer every time: no idea.
No leads turned up as time slipped by, and soon the sun began dipping low.
With no choice, Dang Mujin's group decided to find a place to stay in the village.
Camping out after reaching town wasn't the plan.
No need to beg a night's rest from these grumpy types, either. Vacant houses were a given in places like this.
Dang Mujin led the way, scouting the village until he spotted a suitable empty place.
"Let's crash here tonight."
The moment he said it, Hong Geolgae and Namgung Myeong bolted inside with a burst of lightness skill, racing to claim the best spots and flopping down. Seolhwa trailed slyly after them.
"..."
Dang Mujin and Hyeon-gong eyed the crew with uneasy looks, then let out soft sighs.
Someone always had to handle the grunt work for these immature bunch.
The two decided to poke around for firewood while checking the surroundings. They weren't optimistic. Anything valuable in an empty house got snatched by neighbors quick.
In the process, Dang Mujin and Hyeon-gong noticed something odd in the kitchen.
Three hearths. One big, two small.
Normal homes had just one. Even big families topped out at two.
Only one reason for three in a modest house like this.
"Looks like a physician used to live here."
To Dang Mujin, the small ones screamed herbal decoctions.
Maybe he was seeing physicians everywhere, but folks who built extra mini-hearths were usually docs.
Hyeon-gong nodded.
"Smells right to me. Faint dried herbs on the way in."
"So shouldn't the physician elders be here?"
"Nah. They might've gone to another village from the start."
"Oh, right."
Dang Mujin inspected the kitchen thoroughly, then poked into the half-collapsed storeroom. Nothing left inside, of course.
No intention of playing maid forever, so he headed straight to the room where his friends lounged.
Three of them: Hong Geolgae, Namgung Myeong, Seolhwa.
Dang Mujin pondered a beat, then kicked Hong Geolgae hard in the side. Hong Geolgae clutched it, rolling around before staggering up with a grumble.
"What the hell, out of nowhere?"
"Go fetch some firewood."
"...Why me?"
As Hong Geolgae whined, Namgung Myeong casually undid his collar to show his wound.
"Namgung Myeong's still recovering, and Seolhwa... well, y'know."
Hong Geolgae griped but got up.
Opening the door let in the crisp chill of late autumn edging into early winter. The sun had set, making the breeze even nippier.
Nobody sane wanted to tramp around in that.
In the end, Hong Geolgae pulled a move no normal person would.
"Make way a sec."
Dang Mujin and Hyeon-gong stepped aside to let him pass. But that wasn't it.
Hong Geolgae planted his feet firm, eyed the veranda outside, and whirled his arms in a circle. Dang Mujin caught on.
"Hey, you idiot!"
"Flying Dragon Swing."
Crack!
Hong Geolgae unleashed a Dragon Subduing Palm strike, smashing the veranda boards. Dang Mujin yelled in horror.
"What are you doing? Empty house or not, who uses the damn floor for firewood?"
"Dark under the lamp. Firewood's always right beside us..."
Hong Geolgae brazenly gathered the splintered planks.
Plenty of dry fuel now, but hardly normal. Annoying to pull a stunt like that when tasked for the first time in ages.
Dang Mujin thought,
'Tonight, no snoring allowance. Time for a solid dose of my special brew.'
As Hong Geolgae collected the wood, something caught Dang Mujin's eye. Under the floorboards.
A closer look: wooden slips bound together—a wooden tablet book.
Hong Geolgae perked up triumphantly.
"See? Firewood! Told ya, dark under the lamp. Wasn't aiming for the floorboards. It was those slips underneath."
Like he was the reincarnation of Qin Shi Huang, he declared he'd burn the books without a second thought.
"Better to burn the floorboards. How can you use wooden slips for fuel?"
"If it were paper, maybe not. But slips? Probably nothing important."
Excuses flowed like water.
Dang Mujin figured it was all Hyeon-gong's fault somehow.
Still, Hong Geolgae had a point. Wooden slips usually held trivial stuff.
People wrote on slips or bamboo for three reasons: practicing letters, jotting nonsense, or too broke for paper.
Even so, curiosity nagged. Dang Mujin brushed off the dust and read.
"...Medical text."
"Even if medical, it's gotta be junk. A doc too poor for paper? Skills probably suck too."
Forgetting his beggar roots, Hong Geolgae trashed poor physicians without hesitation.
"Hold on anyway."
Medical books were mostly similar—seven out of ten parts. But that left three parts unique: secret family remedies, personal breakthroughs. Exactly what Dang Mujin needed.
No guarantee it was legit, but memorize and test cautiously later. On a sturdy guy like Hong Geolgae, perfect.
Dang Mujin pored over the slips. Some solid stuff, some utter nonsense.
As he debated burning them, something odd: writing on the back, not just front.
"What's that?"
"Gotta read to find out. Hang on."
Dang Mujin read the back.
[...Human life is unpredictable, but Miss Yeohye offered to teach me medicine. Even gave me these slips. I'll study sleeplessly, I vowed.]
[While Physician Sim was away, Miss Yeohye tended patients. She raised her voice so I could hear outside, diagnosing aloud. Half the time, we matched—made me happy.]
[No patients except one coughing woman. Watching Miss Yeohye from afar ate the whole day.]
Unlike the large, neat front script, the back was small, forceful strokes. Different writer for sure.
Content was night-and-day: more diary than medicine.
Yet Dang Mujin read with relish.
The writer clearly had a crush on Miss Yeohye.
Peeking into someone's diary, spying on their romance—pure thrill.
Dang Mujin mentally coached as he went.
'Should've been bolder here. Guys who miss chances lose out.'
'Hesitating again? Frustrating...'
Dang Mujin set down the slip after the full diary. Felt oddly fulfilled.
Looking around: Namgung Myeong, Hyeon-gong, even Seolhwa reading the back. Unknown guy's diary and puppy love exposed to all. Hong Geolgae was out gathering wood, gone.
As he rose, a strange sensation hit.
Dang Mujin scanned the slips again.
Unfamiliar content. Stranger's tale. About strangers.
Suk-song was new to him.
Yet the slips felt... familiar.
'What?'
He asked his friends.
"Namgung Myeong, Hyeon-gong."
"Yeah?"
"These slips... ring any bells?"
"Good you noticed. Whose dense ass you take after?"
"..."
Neither Namgung Myeong nor Hyeon-gong felt the déjà vu Dang Mujin did.
After racking his brain forever, he pinpointed it.
The handwriting was eerily familiar.
'Where've I seen it?'
No matter how hard, it eluded him. Too many books read.
That night, as all slept.
Dang Mujin rose, recalling where he'd seen the script.
It matched the devilish handwriting in the subscription book.