Chapter 337
Chapter 337
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 337
Chapter Title: The Dang Family's Physicians
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By realizing the method of condensing and refining toxicity and medicinal properties within the body and putting it into practice, Dang Mujin reaped two gains.
The first was bodily resistance.
Dang Mujin could build tolerance to poison by gradually increasing the amount and concentration of poison stored in his body.
But like any martial art, elevating the body's limits was a process that demanded arduous, long-term effort.
To endure the poison of the Human-Faced Spider or a comparable deadly toxin, he would need a considerable amount of time ahead.
Rather, what Dang Mujin considered immediately useful was the second accomplishment. The variety of poisons he could wield had increased dramatically.
Until now, there were many poisons with intriguing and useful properties, but their toxicity was so weak they held no real meaning. Peach pit poison was a prime example.
Yet Dang Mujin succeeded in refining that mild poison within his body, inflicting a full ten days of gut-wrenching agony on Hong Geolgae.
Considering how resistant Hong Geolgae was—chewing and swallowing dozens of peach pits without a hint of stomach trouble—it was truly an extraordinary feat.
Dang Mujin didn't even think that was the end of it.
It wasn't lethal yet, but if he sufficiently concentrated the poison extracted from peach pits, it could become a deadly toxin capable of claiming an expert's life.
And it wasn't limited to concentrating poisons alone.
Take, for instance, the fruit of the loquat tree known as nogyeul. Nogyeul wasn't used as medicine, but it was a fruit beneficial for women with cold hands and feet or sluggish blood flow.
However, if its medicinal properties were condensed hundreds of times over, it could become an auxiliary poison that accelerated blood flow to an extreme degree, spreading any toxin mixed in the blood throughout the body in an instant.
The number of poisons he could utilize in such ways had grown, and since he could combine them with other poisons, it was no exaggeration to say the types of poisons Dang Mujin could handle were now virtually limitless.
After devoting a full month straight to developing new poisons, Dang Mujin stretched languidly.
'Now it's time to start on other matters.'
*
The first thing Dang Mujin undertook was teaching poison arts to the physicians.
Upon hearing that the head of the Dang Family was going to teach them martial arts, the physicians gathered in the family's largest courtyard.
The physicians buzzed among themselves for a good while, then fell silent all at once as Dang Mujim emerged from the treatment room.
A brief silence fell.
Then, a young physician who looked barely past thirty shot his hand up, breaking the quiet.
"Lord of the Dang Family. I'm Sim Seohan from Shaanxi Province. May I ask one question?"
Sim Seohan of Shaanxi Province. It was a self-introduction that rolled off the tongue nicely, with a rhythmic flair to boot.
Dang Mujin nodded.
"What do you wish to know?"
"Are you really going to teach us martial arts?"
Dang Mujin regarded Sim Seohan.
He was a physician who had joined the Dang Family during the past year while Dang Mujin was away.
He wasn't exceptionally accomplished for a physician, but he had one distinctive trait. Though not tall, he had a sturdy build like a stone pillar, making him look more like a martial artist than a healer no matter how you viewed him.
Shave his head and drop him at the Shaolin Temple, and he'd blend right in without a hint of oddity.
Dang Mujin shook off the stray thought and replied.
"Yes."
Sim Seohan hesitated before asking.
"...Is it all right for us to learn martial arts?"
"Is there some problem?"
"I've heard that martial arts aren't passed down lightly outside of master-disciple bonds. I'm worried this might put you in a difficult position, my lord."
Dang Mujin let out a chuckle.
Sim Seohan was concerned for Dang Mujin, but it was clear he was even more worried about his own well-being.
It was a pragmatic and accurate concern. Learning martial arts through unofficial channels could bring trouble not just to the teacher, but to the learner as well.
"That's true enough. There is one person who might take offense to me teaching martial arts."
"Then..."
"But it's fine. He's already dead."
Hearing that, Sim Seohan visibly relaxed.
It had been seven years since the Strange Physician died. Yet in Dang Mujin's memory, he remained as vivid as if he were still alive.
Dang Mujin imagined what the Strange Physician would say if he saw this scene.
'Something I've never heard of, but at least it'll help spread medical knowledge.'
'Go ahead. Though you'll probably nag me to help.'
He'd surely say something like that, but if Dang Mujin actually asked for help, he'd grumble a bit before assisting diligently. That was the Strange Physician Dang Mujin remembered.
Dang Mujin continued.
"Besides, I'm not planning to teach you earth-shattering arts like those of the Qingcheng Sect or Emei Sect. It's a bit too grand to call it a longevity technique, but hardly a supreme martial art either. And I have no intention of teaching swordsmanship."
The physicians stirred. Ordinary folk invariably thought of swords first upon hearing "martial arts."
Sim Seohan asked.
"If we won't learn the sword, then what are we learning martial arts for?"
"First, I'll teach you an internal art called the Xuanwu Skill. You can call it the Xuanwu Divine Skill if you like. The name sounds impressive enough, but as I just said, it falls short of being a supreme art. Like any internal method, cultivating the Xuanwu Skill through inhalation and qi circulation and breathing will build your inner energy and keep minor ailments at bay."
It was an enticing start.
Physicians, who dealt with patients constantly, often caught illnesses from them. They healed others, yet paradoxically suffered the most from nagging ailments.
"Next, I'll teach you the Purple Cloud Step. It's a fairly practical lightness skill, so master it well and you can escape even seasoned martial artists with ease."
The Purple Cloud Step was a lightness skill the Strange Physician had taught him long ago.
Dang Mujin himself hadn't used it much since learning the Shadowless Thousand-Step from the Shaolin Temple while treating Mok Inhang. In terms of footwork perfection, the Shadowless Thousand-Step outshone the Purple Cloud Step.
But he couldn't teach the Shadowless Thousand-Step to the physicians. If they used it carelessly and ran into Shaolin monks, their tendons could be severed.
"After that comes the Flying Floss Palm. Master it, and you can handle street thugs without issue. It'll be handy for subduing patients who skip out on paying for medicine. But don't get cocky and challenge someone with a blade relying on the Flying Floss Palm. I won't take responsibility if you die."
The physicians burst into laughter. They hadn't dared hope for arts of that caliber anyway.
"Once you've learned the Flying Floss Palm, the next step is the Escape Skill."
"...Escape Skill? What kind of martial art is that?"
The physicians had never heard of the Escape Skill and couldn't grasp what it was. Moreover, it sounded utterly unimpressive. An escaping monkey?
Dang Mujin himself had thought the same in the past. But looking back, few arts had served him as reliably over time as the Escape Skill.
"The Escape Skill is a miscellaneous technique for throwing objects. But you must learn it thoroughly. In a way, I'm teaching all this for the Escape Skill and what comes after."
What comes after. The physicians perked up for Dang Mujin's next words.
"Finally, I'll teach you poison arts."
Following the Escape Skill, the response was again lukewarm.
That was only natural. The physicians had heard rumors of Dang Mujin wielding poison arts, but none had witnessed it firsthand.
"Look here."
Dang Mujin raised his right hand, and a drop of transparent liquid beaded on his index finger before falling.
At a glance, it resembled sweat, but upon hitting the ground, something unexpected occurred.
A patch of fresh green grass, sprouting vibrantly in spring, withered yellow as if plunged back into winter—dead in an instant.
The area of dead grass spanned five handspans from where the liquid fell.
Narrow if narrow, wide if wide—but the issue was the speed. The bizarre event unfolded in just three or four breaths.
Even to the untrained eye, it was clear this poison was no ordinary thing.
Dang Mujin's demonstration didn't end there. At his gesture, Hyun Gong brought over a white-lipped deer.
The white-lipped deer had white fur around its cheeks and mouth; it was common near Sichuan and as large as an average person.
Dang Mujin didn't swing a sword or thrust a fist at the deer.
He merely placed his hand lightly on its forehead.
Yet the white-lipped deer instantly rolled its eyes back, collapsed, and convulsed as if seized by some fit. The onlookers watched in breathless silence.
It didn't take long for the deer's breathing to stop entirely.
Dang Mujin drew his sword and sliced open the deer's belly, exposing its innards.
The liver, which should have been bright red, was pitch black, and the stomach shriveled and twisted into a dark brown.
"..."
Dang Mujin explained in a clear voice.
"As you saw, poison arts make for a decent self-defense technique. They don't kill as swiftly as a sword, but they have their pros and cons. Those suited to poison arts can wield poison as freely as I do, while others can use it in different ways."
"Other methods, like secretly mixing it into food... Is that what you mean?"
"There's an even simpler method."
Dang Mujin drew a black cylinder from his bosom. It had been ages since the Storm Rain Pear Flower Needle saw the light of day, but none of the physicians recognized it.
Dang Mujin stepped back thirty paces as he spoke.
"Step back a bit."
The physicians didn't understand what he intended, but they complied.
They retreated ten or fifteen paces, putting more distance between themselves and the deer carcass.
Dang Mujin held the Storm Rain Pear Flower Needle in his right hand and nonchalantly pressed the protruding side mechanism.
Click.
The sound was so faint and lackluster that few even noticed.
But in the next instant, smoke began rising from the deer carcass. The Pear Flower Needle was loaded with bone-incinerating powder.
In truth, bone-incinerating powder had little effect on living creatures. It was something of hype.
But few methods demonstrated poison arts' power more convincingly.
Upon contact with the deer's blood, the powder generated intense heat. A fishy blood scent wafted from the rising smoke.
After time enough to sip a cup of tea, the smoke finally died down. Not a drop of blood remained on the revealed carcass, which had shriveled to a pathetic husk.
Dang Mujin carefully extracted a bone from the white-lipped deer's corpse and rubbed it lightly between thumb and forefinger.
The bone crumbled like bean flour coarsely ground on a whetstone without water.
Then Dang Mujin picked up a few needles embedded in the deer's hide and showed them to the crowd.
For the catastrophic result they wrought, the needles were far too small and thin—barely visible to the eye.
"..."
Silence blanketed the Dang Family courtyard.
The poisons the physicians had imagined were things like toxic mushrooms sprouting tiny at the base of old trees or snakes striking at herbalists' ankles.
Dangerous enough in their own right, but they couldn't fathom how Dang Mujin had made his name in the martial world with poison arts.
Yet what he showed now was a skill on another level entirely. More insidious, swifter, and vicious than they had envisioned.
Even non-physicians watching the poison arts demonstration were stunned.
The warriors from the Demonic Cult were especially shocked. The poison arts Dang Mujin displayed while escaping the Cult in the past weren't anywhere near this lethal.
'...What happened to the Lord of the Dang Family in the meantime?'
The physicians stared at the emaciated, crumbling deer carcass, each recalling names and faces of colleagues harmed for various reasons.
Losing well-dried herbs to thieves was routine.
Some were beaten for failing to cure a noble's illness; others stabbed for healing someone they shouldn't have.
Fear might close a clinic for days, but thievery was their trade—they couldn't quit.
If only they'd known poisons like Dang Mujin's.
Dang Mujin waited until the physicians finished their thoughts before speaking.
"I'm not forcing anyone to learn martial arts or poison arts. But I'll teach those who wish to learn. If you need instruction, sit cross-legged in place."
A few physicians stood.
Some lacked confidence in martial arts; others felt too old. Some, like those preferring harm over harming others, simply left.
But most remained.
When dozens of physicians finally sat cross-legged in the courtyard, Dang Mujin began transmitting martial arts in a way unimaginable in any typical martial clan or sect.
Rather than examining each one individually, he taught the inhalation method within the Xuanwu Divine Skill verbally.
"Calm your mind and focus on your breathing. Inhale slowly over eight to ten heartbeats, then exhale at a similar pace. Think of it as not fully expelling the inhaled breath, but leaving a little in your abdomen each time."
"Feel the breath brush the Yin Intersection points, reaching the Cool Spring and Giant Cleft points. When exhaling and a clear energy touches the Great Vertebra point, you've taken your first step—straighten your back. The key is not to rush."
Typically, martial artists guided disciples step-by-step: from breathing rhythm to the paths it traced.
Dang Mujin's method for the Xuanwu Divine Skill seemed almost perfunctory at first glance.
But it was the most efficient approach. The physicians gathered at the Dang Family knew all about the Eight Extraordinary Meridians and acupoints.
Sim Seohan was the first to straighten his back.
It happened less than half a shichen after Dang Mujin taught the inhalation method. Dang Mujin placed both hands on Sim Seohan's back, sensed the faint energy seeping through his meridians, and nodded.
"You're doing well. Keep up the inhalation."
Sim Seohan was already half in a trance. The refreshing thrill of sensing ambient qi for the first time was intoxicatingly hard to abandon.
Before the sun even set, nearly half the physicians in the courtyard succeeded in sensing ambient qi.
It was exceptionally fast, but Dang Mujin saw it as only natural. Medicine and martial arts overlapped in many ways.
Next, he planned to teach lightness skill, palm techniques, and the Escape Skill to gauge their talents. Talented ones would get spirit pills to craft their own poisons; the less gifted would learn alternative ways to wield them.
'Things might progress faster than expected.'
Hong Geolgae, watching, said to Dang Mujin.
"You, back when the Strange Physician elder first taught you the heart method. Didn't you complete the Lesser Heavenly Circuit in one go?"
"I did."
"And you bragged about it every time, calling yourself a genius."
"Of course. Plain truth."
Dang Mujin nodded calmly.
"Not that they'll reach the Lesser Heavenly Circuit, but seeing the physicians master inhalation so quickly... it seems you don't need to be a genius to do it fast."
"Genius. I'm a genius, and so are they."
Hong Geolgae narrowed his eyes at Dang Mujin.
"...Does that even make sense?"
"Didn't you know? Only geniuses become physicians. You couldn't understand since you're not one."
Nangong Myeong, eavesdropping nearby, whispered to Hyun Gong.
"Isn't it funny, him calling himself a genius when he's lagging behind?"
"Just let it slide. Poor guy's pitiful."
The word "pitiful" rang out especially clear.
Dang Mujin pretended not to hear the exchange.