Chapter 94
Chapter 94
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 94
Chapter Title: Mount Nogun
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The two walked briskly.
The weather was pleasantly cool, and their hearts were light. It seemed overcoming his inner demons to some extent had helped.
Namgung Myeong would occasionally don his mask for no particular reason or dress in his black garb, but even seeing that no longer unsettled Dang Mujin the way it used to—he felt only a faint discomfort, without losing his senses or causing a scene.
Whether that was because he knew the man in black was Namgung Myeong, or because his aversion to masks and black clothing had lessened, Dang Mujin couldn't say for sure.
Not until he encountered another person in black.
Finally, the two arrived at Mount Nogun.
The landscape of Mount Nogun was extraordinarily strange. Unlike typical mountains that started with gentle foothills and gradually rose to sheer peaks, Mount Nogun was crammed with cliffs and precipices right from the boundary line.
It looked as if immortals had jammed rocks into the earth to form it.
"You can see why the herbs from Mount Nogun are so expensive just by looking. How are we supposed to get in there?"
"Over there—it looks like there's a path."
The spot Dang Mujin pointed to was a narrow gorge between two cliffs.
The gorge sloped steeply upward like stairs leading to the sky. But unlike the other areas, it seemed just navigable enough to climb on foot.
Namgung Myeong glanced at the crude map Haryeong had given him.
The gorge was marked on it, with "entrance route" written beside it.
Mount Nogun had so few access points that even the entrance routes were designated.
"Let's go for it."
Dang Mujin and Namgung Myeong climbed the steep gorge. When they reached its end, a small village appeared before them.
It wasn't quite where Haryeong had marked on the map. The village on the map was much farther in.
Dang Mujin frowned.
"Why is the village all the way out here?"
"Who knows."
"If it was this close, we wouldn't have needed to lug all that baggage from the last village. We carried it for nothing."
Namgung Myeong's dissatisfaction was even greater. Most of the heavy load—Dang Mujin's medicines—had ended up on his back.
Namgung Myeong clenched and unclenched his fists with a challenging glint in his eye.
"I'm feeling a bit slighted myself. Shall I vent my frustrations in this village tonight?"
"Calm down. In a tiny place like this, night visitors from out of town are the first ones suspected."
"That makes sense."
As a proper young noble of the Namgung family, Namgung Myeong had clear standards.
It wasn't enough just to steal—his philosophy was that the challenge succeeded only if no one realized Namgung Myeong had done it.
And in a village this small, with fewer than a hundred souls, there was no way to avoid detection or suspicion. In a sense, it was the safest village from Namgung Myeong.
"But doesn't this village feel a bit off?"
"How so?"
"It's small, but it looks prosperous."
Dang Mujin observed the villagers. No one was skin and bones.
The children had plump limbs, and the adults had just enough flesh to hide their cheekbones.
Not only were there no ragged clothes—everyone wore garments of fine fabric. Some even sported expensive silk.
No one went barefoot. Not even crude straw sandals woven from rice stalks.
Nearly everyone, children included, wore soft cloth shoes.
Even setting aside the material quality, cloth shoes took several times longer to make than straw ones, so they cost a fair bit. It was rare enough for adults, let alone growing children.
Several even wore leather shoes. It was an unfamiliar sight.
"They look wealthier than the folks in Luoyang."
A story the strange physician had once told came to mind.
Villages where anyone could prosper naturally drew people, growing only as large as they could support.
There were plenty of large, poor villages—but small, wealthy ones were rare.
As Dang Mujin and Namgung Myeong scanned their surroundings and entered the village, a man who appeared to be in his fifties stepped forward and stopped them.
"Faces I don't recognize. Who might you be?"
"We're travelers passing through. We were hoping to stay the night."
"Stay the night? Merchants?"
The man's pack was secured to Dang Mujin's large one.
But his expression soured oddly.
'Does he dislike merchants?'
Dang Mujin thought quickly.
There might be people in the world who disliked merchants, but no one hated physicians.
"Not merchants—we're physicians."
"Physicians? You're awfully young."
"I'll show you proof."
Dang Mujin unpacked his load, revealing its contents.
Pounded, stir-fried, sun-dried—medicines prepared in their appropriate ways, packed to the brim. Only then did the man's suspicion toward Dang Mujin ease.
"My apologies. Sometimes merchants try to sneak into Mount Nogun."
"Oh... Is that not allowed?"
"Correct. Merchants can't enter Mount Nogun. All herbs go through our village for trade. That's how the county magistrate set it up."
The county magistrate was an official title. Think of it as the magistrate overseeing a large, populous area being a full county head, while smaller ones fell to a deputy like him.
"I'm no merchant, so I should be able to enter?"
"You can—if I permit it."
"You, sir?"
"Yes. I'm the village head of Nakseong Village."
No wonder—he had the look of a village head. The type who liked stepping forward.
"What about me? I came all this way to Mount Nogun to gather some herbs."
The village head eyed Dang Mujin with mild arrogance.
"You said you're a physician? Show me your skills, and I might let you in."
"You want a demonstration? Ah."
He wanted some medical service. Dang Mujin examined the village head. His posture tilted oddly—he was clearly uncomfortable somewhere.
"Does another physician rarely visit this village?"
"Almost never. If someone's sick, they have to walk three days to see one. That old physician over there has hips too heavy for house calls."
"Any villagers suffering from serious illnesses?"
"Not really. Some elders are just weakening with age—nothing to be done about that."
Dang Mujin scratched his chin, puzzled. He couldn't fathom why Haryeong had told him to treat patients on Mount Nogun.
Nakseong Village was prosperous, had no special patients, and though inconvenient, physicians could be reached.
'Might there be another village deeper inside Mount Nogun?'
Dang Mujin nearly asked but held his tongue.
The village head and county magistrate controlled access to Mount Nogun. Such a question might not go over well.
'First, I'll pass through this village and head to the spot marked on the map.'
After a moment's thought, Dang Mujin inquired about the village head's condition.
"Where does it hurt, and how?"
"My legs haven't been good lately."
"How long since they started hurting?"
"Over a fortnight."
Dang Mujin took the village head's wrist to check his pulse. The man asked suspiciously,
"My legs are the problem—why check the pulse?"
Ideally, all patients would trust their physicians, but reality differed. Health was too vital a matter; suspicion was common.
Especially for Dang Mujin, who was too young for a physician and often faced doubt.
"The body is all interconnected. Leg problems don't always originate in the legs."
"Hmm."
He clearly didn't buy it. Dang Mujin ignored him and continued his examination.
"First, your pulse is wiry. Not good."
"What does that mean?"
"It's rapid and forceful."
"The dead have no pulse, the sick have weak ones—so isn't a strong pulse good?"
The village head countered with his own logic. Many thought that way. Dang Mujin shook his head.
"Moderation is always best. Excess is as bad as deficiency, as they say. Now, let me check your abdomen."
Checking wrist then belly for leg pain seemed dubious. The village head's face darkened.
The lower abdomen wasn't firm or distended like something packed inside, but it protruded oddly.
Just pressing slightly above the navel revealed rapid, forceful throbbing.
"There's pronounced palpitations below the heart, and your kidneys seem badly off. You've had loose stools recently."
"...No idea what you're saying."
Dang Mujin knew he wouldn't understand.
When patients doubted a physician's skill, reciting medical texts verbatim without simplification often helped. Tough terminology lent authority.
"Large pulsations under the heart, and loose stools. Morning palpitations are severe, stools alternate between loose and hard without middle ground."
The village head's eyes widened. He'd only mentioned leg discomfort, yet Dang Mujin pinpointed unmentioned symptoms.
"Your leg issue isn't a break or sprain. They go numb at random, keeping you awake; each step feels like stumbling, so you avoid walking. Right?"
"...Yes."
Dang Mujin sent qi through the village head's meridians, probing vessels and organs.
Then, in a monotone like a monk reciting sutras, he continued.
"But that's not all. Hidden symptoms: intense thirst, aversion to salt forcing bland foods, weight gain despite no appetite."
"Uh..."
"Urination twice per watch, unsatisfying even after; stinging inside the penis each time. Occasional stabbing pain like stepping inside your lower back?"
Namgung Myeong had seen Dang Mujin and the strange physician diagnose on the boat, so he wasn't surprised.
But the village head couldn't hide his shock.
"How did you know all that? I only said my legs hurt."
"I'm a physician."
"No. When I saw another one before, I had to explain every symptom myself."
"Well, some physicians are like that, others like this."
Perhaps because Dang Mujin downplayed it without self-praise. The village head seemed to gain greater trust.
Dang Mujin pulled a small mortar from his unpacked load and began grinding herbs: talc, licorice, gypsum, skullcap, ephedra, ligusticum, angelica, mint, ginger.
"Village head, you said Nakseong Village handles Mount Nogun herbs? If you have saposhnikovia, peony root, and forsythia, bring a bit of each. Small amounts are fine."
"...Got it."
The village head returned as if entranced, with small bundles of herbs.
They were merely dried, not properly processed—but none required special preparation, so he'd just use more.
"Urination and appetite will take time to improve slowly, but the palpitations and walking issues should ease soon with this Defense Wind Thoroughly Sagely Powder. Dissolve in lukewarm water morning and night."
Dang Mujin wrapped the fine powder in rough paper and handed it over. His movements in compounding and packaging were swift and adept.
"Tha... No, thank you."
Sometimes, precise diagnosis and clear explanation alone built trust.
The village head hadn't even tasted the medicine, yet he clearly accepted the prescription.
"How much for the medicine?"
"No charge. In exchange for staying a day to treat patients, could you provide a room? And any herbs I lack would be welcome."
"...Of course. The lower room's empty—plenty of space for two."
*
Two days later, the village head visited Dang Mujin.
His tilted posture had straightened, his limp evened out—the medicine had worked.
"You're clear to enter Mount Nogun. I thought you might be a fake physician, being so young... Sorry for doubting you."
The village head led Dang Mujin and Namgung Myeong to the rear of the village.
The path into Mount Nogun from there was highly unusual: not a normal trail, but a plank road along sheer cliffs. The shelf-like ledges carved into the precipices were dizzying just to behold.
The mountain's ferocity had forced the plank roads; one could only imagine how many died building them.
The village head spoke awkwardly.
"We don't let people in casually because the plank roads are so dangerous."
"...I can see why."
"Still, there are flat spots along the way, so no need to tense up too much. Mount Nogun is rugged, but not all cliffs from start to finish."
"Understood."
"And if you sense anyone while gathering herbs, get away immediately. No one you'll meet inside Mount Nogun is worth encountering. Got it?"
Namgung Myeong asked innocently.
"So there are people living inside Mount Nogun?"
The village head equivocated.
"A few, maybe. Anyway, no one worth dealing with—heed my words."
"Got it."
Dang Mujin and Namgung Myeong bowed to the village head, who watched them a moment before leaving.
Dang Mujin and Namgung Myeong carefully traversed the cliffside plank road.
Was this the Heavenly Ladder? Clouds clung to the midway cliffs; when they parted, peering down revealed abysses hundreds of feet deep and dense forests.
The trees below looked ancient, but from such height, each shrank to less than a finger joint.
The altitude numbed their limbs. Unlike usual, Dang Mujin and Namgung Myeong walked in taut silence, no banter.
Finally, they reached a flat area.
Namgung Myeong exhaled held breath.
"Hoo..."
Dang Mujin wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. Facing a sword-wielder was less tense than this plank road.
Dang Mujin and Namgung Myeong moved along the high, level peak.
They gauged where Haryeong's marked village might be, but the crude map offered no precision.
After walking some time, Namgung Myeong and Dang Mujin halted simultaneously. Somewhere, metal clashed.
"...Hear that?"
"Yeah."
Metal clashing meant violence nine times out of ten.
The Nakseong village head's warning rang clear: avoid people inside Mount Nogun.
"Guess we should check it out?"
"Obviously."
Yet Dang Mujin and Namgung Myeong headed toward the sound. It might lead to Haryeong's village.
Hiding behind brush, they peered at the source.
About ten bandits were fighting there.
Oddly, not bandits ambushing travelers—but two bandit groups clashing.
Numbers: three against seven. But the situation was peculiar.
The seven were edging away to flee, while the three pressed them.
Dang Mujin watched with keen interest, but Namgung Myeong's face grew grave. Dang Mujin whispered,
"Problem?"
"Those three bandits—something's off."
"They're fighting well for bandits."
"No. That sword style looks familiar."
"What style?"
"Five Elements Sword. From the Wudang Sect."