Chapter 58
Chapter 58
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 58
Chapter Title: The Inn's Physician
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The small logging raft vanished before the sun had even risen.
Dang Mujin disassembled the little raft into its components, smashed them to pieces one by one, buried them deep in the ground, then transferred the embers from the bonfire and burned everything to ash.
It had taken no small amount of time to build that raft, but he felt no regret. After all, it had perfectly served its purpose.
As soon as the Precepts Abbot entered Shaolin Temple, his face returned to its usual impassive expression.
And as always, he maintained a curt silence. What had happened in the clearing on Mount Songxiao remained a secret known only to three people. Now, not even evidence was left behind.
On the day Dang Mujin and Yi Chung departed from Shaolin. A great number of monks gathered to see them off.
The most regretful were Pursuit Department Leader Qingjin and Fierce Dog Successor Qingfu. Qingfu, having grasped a clue to the next realm through the raft, expressed his gratitude to Dang Mujin as if he were a benefactor.
"If you ever need this monk's help, please say the word, Donor Dang."
"There won't be any need for help, so don't worry."
In contrast, the Pursuit Department Leader remained composed. But he prepared a neat bundle of useful items and medicines for their journey—fitting recompense from the Pursuit Department Leader.
While Manryeok the monk gazed worriedly at Yi Chung, the Precepts Abbot approached Dang Mujin and spoke.
"Donor Dang. May you reach the sea."
Dang Mujin offered a light nod of thanks.
"May you steadfastly hold your post."
Dang Mujin and Yi Chung stepped beyond Shaolin Temple's gates. Their stay at Shaolin had been quite long, stirring feelings similar to those on the day he'd left home in Chengdu.
And not even an hour after leaving Shaolin behind. Dang Mujin encountered a familiar face. Dan Seolyeong stood leaning against a small tree.
"Come to see us off?"
"No. I'm going with you."
"...What?"
"I'm going with you. I've had enough—time to leave Mount Song for good."
Dan Seolyeong smiled with genuine relief. It was a good look on her.
But there was one problem. She'd made this decision to tag along all on her own.
"...Do you even know where I'm headed?"
"You said you came from Chengdu in Sichuan Province, right?"
"True enough."
"I want to see Sichuan Province too. They say Dujiangyan has waterwheels by the dozens, hundreds even?"
"That's right. But Sichuan is farther than you think."
"So what if it is? You don't want me coming along?"
Of course not. As Dang Mujin gave an awkward smile, a whistle sounded from behind. Yi Chung.
"Sneaking out every night, and now look—a chick's tumbled right into your lap."
"It's not like that, so don't get the wrong idea."
Dang Mujin denied it at once, but Yi Chung smirked, twisting one corner of his mouth. He seemed convinced Dang Mujin and Dan Seolyeong had built a Great Wall between them.
"Deny it all you want now, and you'll end up hated later. Don't drag your feet—man up and take responsibility."
Dan Seolyeong eyed Yi Chung dubiously, then asked Dang Mujin.
"Who's the old guy?"
"Uh... he's traveling with us."
"Since when? And how far?"
"We met up in Sichuan and set out together. We'll probably keep moving as a group from here on."
Disappointment was plain on Dan Seolyeong's face.
*
Yi Chung teased Dan Seolyeong mercilessly, saying it wasn't too late for her to turn back.
But she couldn't. The moment she'd decided to follow Dang Mujin, true to form, she'd sold off all her belongings with impressive decisiveness. Even her prized pot, her greatest possession. No turning back now.
Yet even as Yi Chung relentlessly ribbed her, he showed subtle consideration.
Compared to traveling with Hong Geolgae, their pace had slowed just a bit, and though it was still early evening, they stopped at a village instead of passing it by.
It wasn't because Dan Seolyeong was a woman. He just didn't want to leave new companions sleeping rough on the roadside. Or maybe he simply fancied a drink at the inn.
"Let's rest here tonight."
Three days after leaving Shaolin Temple. The village they reached wasn't large, but it had everything one might need.
Merchants must pass through often, as there were three inns, each with its own stable, large or small.
As the group passed the stables, mules and donkeys poked their heads out to stare at them.
They entered the inn with the fewest patrons and ordered food.
Simple fare scaled to their numbers. One dish for drinking with. A bottle of liquor. Naturally, the dishes and liquor suited Yi Chung's tastes.
However, despite the sparse crowd, the food took forever to arrive. In a traveler's inn, noodles or dumplings should come flying out the moment you order.
Wondering what was up, Dang Mujin peeked into the kitchen.
The same fellow who'd taken their order outside was handling all the cooking. He moved with greater ease inside than out, so he must be the regular kitchen man.
'This doesn't look like a one-man inn.'
The three clutched their empty stomachs and waited in silence. The smile faded from Yi Chung's lips. Yi Chung grew curt and irritable when hungry.
"Sorry for the wait."
The kitchen master set down a bowl of thin noodles, two bowls of fried rice, and the liquor Yi Chung had ordered. The drinking dish would take a bit longer, but it was enough to stave off hunger.
The trio's faces finally brightened as they dug in. The food was slow, but no worse than average inns—in fact, better. Dang Mujin finished quickly, stealing glances at the kitchen.
Finally, Yi Chung's drinking dish arrived. Yi Chung raised his cup at last, while Dan Seolyeong feigned disinterest but steadily pilfered bites from it.
No one entered the inn after Dang Mujin's group.
The kitchen master, finally catching a breath, sat at a table away from them and wiped sweat from his brow. Dang Mujin asked him.
"Are you the innkeeper?"
"Eh? Y-yes. That's me."
"You seem to be handling everything alone. Looks exhausting. Don't you need help?"
His cooking was top-notch, yet he couldn't keep up with customers. A hand or two would make all the difference, even if it cost wages.
The innkeeper sighed.
"I used to work with my brother, but he's been too ill to come in since the day before yesterday. It's kept me spinning like a top."
"How ill is he?"
"Said he was breaking out in cold sweats, then his body swelled up. I checked on him yesterday to see if he'd improved, but he seemed worse."
Cold sweats and edema were common symptoms. But one couldn't assume they were trivial.
Edema that looked the same on the surface could be minor and fleeting, or life-threatening.
"Did you see a physician? You can't brush off swelling lightly."
"No physician in the village right now. Ours passed from old age last spring."
"What do the sick do then?"
"Grit their teeth and bear it. Sometimes a doc from the next village over comes for a day or two to see patients."
Dang Mujin didn't deliberate long.
"In that case, may I take a look at his condition?"
At Dang Mujin's words, Dan Seolyeong, who'd been eyeing Yi Chung's drinking dish with her chopsticks, jabbed his side. A worried look.
"Why?"
"Wouldn't it be better to wait for the neighboring physician? They say quack doctors kill people. What if something goes wrong when you're not even one?"
"I am a physician."
Dan Seolyeong stared at Dang Mujin's face. It sounded like a joke, but his serious expression confused her.
Dang Mujin realized he'd never really shared much about himself in their talks.
Their conversations usually had Dan Seolyeong spilling her stories while Dang Mujin listened attentively. He preferred hearing over telling, and mountain girl Dan Seolyeong craved someone to talk to.
"...Weren't you a carpenter?"
"I can do carpentry, but medicine's my trade. The Dang family of Chengdu has been physicians for generations. Naturally, I learned the art."
Doubt still filled Dan Seolyeong's face. Dang Mujin pulled the needle case from his bosom and opened the lid.
Only after seeing it packed with slender needles did Dan Seolyeong accept he meant it.
The innkeeper's face lit up at the sight too.
Fortunately, Dang Mujin's group were the last customers. The innkeeper rose anxiously.
"Can you come right now?"
"Certainly."
Yi Chung waved them off as if to say hurry back. The other three left the inn.
Led by the innkeeper's hand, they reached a house where a sweat-drenched man lay. His condition looked poor at a glance.
He startled slightly at the sight of Dang Mujin and Dan Seolyeong, but relaxed upon seeing the familiar face following. Good—his mind was clear despite the pain.
"...A physician?"
"Yes. Just passing through."
"Hoo, hoo. What... is this illness?"
"We'll find out shortly."
Dang Mujin examined the patient.
Indeed, his whole body was noticeably swollen. His pulse was irregular and rapid, but weak.
His breathing was uneven too; even short talk left him gasping. Inner turmoil vexed his heart.
"A few questions. Any headaches?"
"No."
"Mouth dry as dust, or tongue stinging?"
"No."
As the negatives piled up, faint doubt crept over the innkeeper's face.
He believed skilled physicians could diagnose at a glance.
But that applied to diseases with unique symptoms.
While talking, Dang Mujin lightly ran his left hand over the patient's body. Despite the pain, he reacted to the ticklish touch.
Dang Mujin continued the interview.
"How's your urine? Probably much less than usual."
"Right. Once yesterday, hoo, none today."
"Any change in color?"
"Didn't seem unusual."
So, not brown or red.
Urinary retention had many causes: heat in the bladder, damp-heat, kidney yin deficiency, qi transformation failure, and more.
'No need to overcomplicate.'
Since no physician had seen him, prioritize common ailments.
Dang Mujin shifted his hand to the abdomen for palpation.
He pressed various spots. The upper abdomen tensed or tickled under pressure, but the lower showed no reaction, as if numb.
'Lower abdomen unresponsive.'
A familiar symptom. Dang Mujin reassured him.
"Another two or three days like this might've endangered your life, but it's no rare or intractable disease. You'll recover quickly."
"Uh... with acupuncture?"
The innkeeper asked cautiously. The needle case had impressed him.
Dang Mujin massaged the patient's limbs slowly as he replied.
"Not suitable for needles. Bring some honey and salt from the inn."
A noodle-and-dumpling joint might lack honey, but one serving full dishes always stocked it.
"And Seolyeong. Mind heading back to the inn with him to grab my things?"
"Sure."
Dan Seolyeong and the innkeeper rose.
While Dang Mujin massaged, they returned with the items.
From Dan Seolyeong's bundle, Dang Mujin took herbs: prepared rehmannia, cornus fruit, moutan bark, white poria, alisma, cinnamon bark. Even aconite.
Seeing the array, Dan Seolyeong finally relaxed completely. She'd suspected he was a quack.
The innkeeper's eyes widened.
"Decoction? No pot. Can we use ours?"
"No need. Not a decoction—making Eight-Flavor Pills."
Dang Mujin ground the herbs finely, piled them in a wooden bowl, and poured in ample honey from the innkeeper.
He kneaded the sticky powder into small round pills. Dark and pea-sized, they resembled goat droppings at a glance.
No need for pretty shapes; efficacy mattered.
In moments, he'd made over 150. He washed his hands in the jar out front and returned.
"I made them a bit larger than standard Eight-Flavor Pills, so twenty at a time. With salted water or warm liquor. Take a dose now, then morning and evening starting tomorrow."
"After they're gone?"
"Not a lingering illness. You'll feel effects in two hours, and by tomorrow, you'll be up and about."
Doubt crossed the innkeeper's face.
Could a half-dead man recover so fast from mere pills?
He knew little of medicine, but common sense said grave ills took time, minor ones healed quick.
Yet here, only Dang Mujin could be trusted. The innkeeper fed his brother the pills with salted water, skeptical.
"Ugh."
The patient groaned, stirring.
Dang Mujin steadily massaged his limbs. It aided circulation, sped the medicine, eased inner turmoil.
The massage relaxed him, and he drifted to sleep.
After about half a watch, the sleeping patient drew a deep breath. Sssup—
Then exhaled slowly, deeply. Haaaah.
No such breath earlier amid his ragged gasps.
His breathing steadied, cold sweats ceased.
Routine for Dang Mujin, miraculous to others.
The innkeeper gaped; Dan Seolyeong gasped silently beside him.
Dang Mujin rose and instructed the innkeeper.
"Change his sweat-soaked clothes and warm his bed. He'll be much better by morning."
"Oh, thank you, sir! Come back to the inn—I'll cook up a storm."
"I'm fine. Close up tonight and tend your brother."
"Understood."
The innkeeper bowed repeatedly as he saw Dang Mujin off.
Dang Mujin could predict what tomorrow would bring.
His prediction proved spot on. Before noon the next day, patients flooded the inn.