Chapter 84
Chapter 84
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 84
Chapter Title: Ban Yonggyeol
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Truthfully, when everyone's attention focuses on one person, it's only natural that some folks start to resent them.
The ways of the world are like that—whenever someone gains, someone else loses, more often than not.
As the Dang Family Clinic's reputation soared and drew in more patients, the other clinics in Chengdu quietly harbored grudges. The sword and blade shops saw fewer customers too, and they weren't happy about it.
Of course, they knew their skills simply couldn't compete. But when livelihoods were at stake, it was hard not to get touchy.
At least the clinics and craftsmen had straightforward gripes that anyone could understand.
Harder to grasp—and far more bitter—were the resentments brewing among another group.
A handful of street toughs, all around twenty to twenty-five, much like Dang Mujin's age, huddled in a back alley.
They were the kind who caused enough trouble to raise eyebrows but were too sloppy for Qingcheng Sect warriors to bother drawing swords over. That kept them scraping by in their little niche.
Their chatter was the usual drivel—frivolous gossip and crude jokes, no different from any other day. But woven into that nonsense was talk of Dang Mujin, and that was the spark.
"No matter how you slice it, the guy's a pain."
"What about him?"
"Dang Mujin. From the Dang Family Clinic."
"Ah."
No need for details; everyone got it. They'd just avoided saying his name up till now, but he grated on them all the same.
Until last year, Dang Mujin hadn't even registered on their radar.
Pale-faced, scrawny limbs, his days spent parked by the clinic's backyard herb boiler, listlessly stirring pots and fanning flames.
If their eyes met by chance as they passed, he'd sheepishly look away.
No wonder the alley thugs ignored him, along with girls his age.
He might've drawn a glance stripping to the waist and plowing a field, but a blank-faced bookworm fanning coals? Forget it.
Then one day, rumors spread that Dang Mujin had left Chengdu with the famous physician and martial artist known as the Strange Physician.
Everyone figured the talentless nobody would get booted back in no time. But days turned to weeks, then months, and he still didn't return.
That was the first time his name hit the rumor mill.
"Did Dang Mujin really become the Strange Physician's disciple?"
"No way. The guy's one of the Three Great Physicians under heaven. Why take on some scrub like him?"
"He's supposed to be eccentric. Maybe something about Mujin caught his eye."
"Nah. Probably just using him as a guinea pig for some new treatment. If it works, great. If he dies, dump the body somewhere quiet."
"Oh, yeah, that tracks."
People chuckled and moved on. But a bit over half a year later, out-of-town blacksmiths started showing up at the Seokga Forge—folks no one had seen before.
Unlike the nerdy Dang Mujin, Seok Jiseung was strong and hot-tempered, so even the thugs steered clear.
Plus, as Master Seok's son, everyone assumed he had ties to the other smiths and let it slide.
Turned out, they were there for Dang Mujin, not Seok Jiseung. They raved about him being the incarnation of the Furnace Spirit Sovereign, a master smith you couldn't find anywhere in the Central Plains.
It sounded like a bad joke, but the blacksmiths were dead serious.
They'd never even seen his face, yet they had "proof"—some shabby shortsword rolling around the Dang Clinic's needle room and the Seokga Forge. To the thugs, it looked no different from any other junk blade or needle.
They could've laughed that off.
But soon after, something really got under Ban Yonggyeol's skin—the nominal leader of the pack.
Around winter, a girl showed up and holed up at the Dang Clinic. Dan Seolyeong, her name was. Sun-kissed skin, but pretty enough, lively too. Right up Ban Yonggyeol's alley.
At first, he thought old man Dang had taken a young concubine. Nope—she'd come all the way from Henan with Dang Mujin.
Anyone else, he could've brushed off. But Dang Mujin as a rival? That flipped a switch.
Ban Yonggyeol hung around the clinic, trying to catch Dan Seolyeong's eye. She always brushed him off with a bored look. It made his blood boil.
"What's so great about that loser?'
Drag her somewhere dark and have his way? Or play the long game for a few months? As he mulled it over, winter passed, spring bloomed, and Dang Mujin returned to Chengdu.
He looked the same, but carried himself with a new ease, a quiet confidence.
The blacksmiths who'd come for him fawned daily, tugging at his sleeves. Martial artists slunk around between the clinic and forge, hoping for a sword of their own.
Even the Chengdu girls who'd ignored him before now eyed him closely.
The sight felt alien to Ban Yonggyeol, stirring exclusion and a twinge of inferiority.
He'd always taken quiet pride in people avoiding him. But Dang Mujin drawing crowds? That was next level.
Worse, the Dang Clinic's reputation kept climbing. Clearly, Mujin had achieved something as a physician too.
By then, the thugs' guts were churning.
Human hearts are strange. A naturally gifted person achieving more? Not surprising, not enviable. Like when the smiths came for Seok Jiseung—no big deal.
But someone you saw as beneath you rising up? You downplay it, jealousy flares, and you itch to drag them back down.
It's worlds apart from a superior pulling further ahead.
That's exactly how Ban Yonggyeol felt.
Dang Mujin had always been below him—had to stay that way.
He broached it.
"Dang Mujin did go off with the Strange Physician, right?"
"That's solid. Chief Instructor Jin Song confirmed it—the Strange Physician Yi Chung himself."
"Not that. Did he really become his disciple?"
"Huh?"
"Think about it. Can you learn physician skills in just a year?"
Neither Ban Yonggyeol nor the other thugs knew much about doctoring.
Physicians memorized tomes, and only two of the six here were even literate.
But seeing elders get respect, it was clear doctoring took time.
"Doesn't seem likely."
"And Dan Seolyeong came from Henan. Why drag her that far just to learn medicine?"
Physicians stayed put, treating whoever showed up.
If the Strange Physician had truly taken him as disciple, no reason to haul him to Henan.
Ban Yonggyeol figured he'd teach in Chengdu if serious—and it was convincing.
"Maybe he taught him swordsmanship? The guy's a peak expert, right?"
"Sword arts? Crazy—teaching a clueless bum like Mujin? He'd pick me or you, someone with basics."
"But he came back with a sword. Still wears one sometimes."
"That plain scabbard and hilt? Pure bluff. Slip a smith three or four silvers anywhere, ask for the cheapest blade—they hand you one just like it."
The thugs beside Ban Yonggyeol pondered.
Circumstantially, Mujin had learned some medicine from Yi Chung—undeniable, since the clinic's rep spiked right after he returned.
But that sword at his waist? Total fake.
Swordsmanship wasn't quick. Months of basics, endless Qi Circulation and Breathing for a speck of inner power.
Relentless grind to become a third-rate, earn your keep, roam as an escort.
Years more for second-rate, maybe lead a small caravan's guards. Decent success.
Sure. Unless Mujin swallowed some miracle elixir, he was barely scraping third-rate.
Good enough for his share of work, but not strutting with a sword.
Ban Yonggyeol, talented, had hit second-rate last year.
Someone muttered softly.
"Why not just beat him down, humble him good?"
No one blinked.
Young hotheads like them worked that way. Spot a climber, pound him flat, keep him down.
Even the cockiest, after a broken limb or two, tucked tail quick.
For thugs trained young in dojos, enforcing hierarchy was routine.
One voiced concern.
"But he trained with the Strange Physician. What if we rough him up and Yi Chung comes for revenge?"
"Won't happen. My take? He got kicked out as a disciple."
"How do you figure?"
"Like I said, back in a year. Farming, trading—takes five, ten years minimum. Probably used him awhile, then ditched the dud midway. Bet he lasted less than half a year. No time to chase girls if he was really with Yi Chung."
Ban Yonggyeol's logic rang true.
As nods started, a well-informed thug voiced doubt.
"Forget the rest—that forging skill's legit. Yellow Spirit Master from Qingcheng got a sword from him recently. Jin Song's hyped for his turn. What if we beat Mujin and Qingcheng comes knocking?"
Qingcheng's name spooked some, but irked others more that Mujin name-dropped them. Ban Yonggyeol included.
"Why worry? Mask up, thrash him, done. Never saw our faces—who'd know? If paranoid, break legs, spare arms. He can still swing a hammer."
"Hmm."
The thugs mulled Ban Yonggyeol's pitch.
Overkill just for annoyance—breaking legs?
But backing out meant labeled coward.
Direction set, but hesitant vibe.
Ban Yonggyeol knew how to steer groups like this. Nail it as fact, and they'd follow blindly.
"Keep it simple. Wanna keep watching Mujin strut around?"
"Kinda..."
"Grab masks tonight, meet at the well. Beat him senseless, snap a leg."
The thugs nodded vaguely.