novelzi Chapter 11
Chapter 11
Chapter 11: Boon or Bane
Tang Min chuckled. “Not everyone who comes here is seeking medical treatment. We're much the same. We came hoping to acquire some Yeonjuhwan, the legendary elixir, and perhaps witness the Divine Physician's renowned medical techniques.”
The old man smiled and shook his head. “I apologize if this disappoints you, but our pills are not miraculous elixirs.” He explained calmly, “Each individual possesses a different level of internal impurities and suffers from unique ailments. We simply observe the patient carefully and remove these impurities and illnesses. It’s true that cleansing the meridians allows for smoother internal energy flow, and a healthier body aids in external martial arts training. However, our pills do not directly enhance internal energy cultivation. In short, the rumors are exaggerated.” A hint of amusement colored his voice. “It’s similar to the misconception that the Tang Clan’s poison neutralization techniques are infallible, capable of counteracting any poison.”
His gaze briefly flickered towards Sohwa, then he turned and walked towards the courtyard.
Yeon-a, who had been glancing at them from the courtyard, quickly averted her gaze when she met the old man's eyes.
He called out to her, his voice gentle, “Jeomchil-ah, it’s time to change the bandages and apply the ointment. Would you mind taking care of that?”
“Yes! I’ll do it! Please, continue your conversation!” She immediately rushed towards one of the thatched-roof houses, the one from which the strong scent of blood had emanated.
The old physician’s gaze shifted to the man who had been standing beside the house. He, too, reluctantly followed Yeon-a, or rather, Jeomchil, inside.
Sohwa frowned. Even now, the name felt wrong, a jarring contrast to Yeon-a's vibrant personality. It sounded like the name of a common tavern worker, not a girl as radiant as a lotus flower.
“Why does that child have such a strange name?” Tang Min, also displeased, frowned.
The old physician smiled faintly. “It is said that a name carries the weight of one’s life. When our disciples leave, we give them simple, unassuming names, signifying a release from their past, a fresh start. It is our hope that they will choose a name befitting their true selves.”
Tang Min, unconvinced, frowned. “What if they never leave?”
“Fortunately, all the children we’ve taken in have found their path and left.” There was a quiet pride in his voice.
Tang Hak, who had been silent until now, asked, “Is... is Miss Jeomchil the seventh child you’ve taken in?”
Silence.
Tang Min’s frown deepened.
“Don’t tell me you named the first child Jeom-il, the second Jeom-i, and so on... and the one before Jeomchil was Jeom-yuk?”
He smiled at Sohwa, who was gazing intently at him, then rose from the platform. “It will be difficult to descend the mountain after sunset. I’ll show you quickly. Follow me.”
He led them to a nearby thatched-roof house that appeared to be a storage shed. Inside, a strange assortment of tools and equipment was piled against the earthen walls. There were distillation apparatuses, beehives, and numerous other objects whose purpose she couldn't discern. It finally felt real. She was inside the Divine Physician’s troupe’s hidden sanctuary.
As they entered, a neatly organized chest of drawers caught her attention. Despite the humble exterior, the interior of the house was impeccably clean and organized, rivaling even the Tang Clan’s medical pavilion.
The old physician opened a drawer and pulled out a large tray, placing it on the table. “These are the tools the Divine Physician created. Quite intriguing, aren't they?”
Inside the tray, a collection of small scissors and knives, resembling children’s toys, were neatly arranged. The blades were incredibly thin, almost like sheets of paper. Some scissors had blunt wooden tips instead of blades. Their purpose was a mystery.
As she examined the strange tools, the old physician retrieved another tray, this one filled with lumps of dough of varying sizes. “These are models used for practicing incisions and sutures. Watch closely.” He picked up a piece shaped like a human forearm and selected a small knife. He sliced into the dough, revealing thin strands of reed embedded within, resembling blood vessels. “These represent blood vessels. Sometimes, they rupture internally. When that happens, you need to suture them like this.”
His movements were precise and swift. He severed one of the reed strands, then, using a needle, made three initial stitches. As the circular cross-section transformed into a triangle, closing the gap, he began suturing meticulously. In moments, the severed strand was seamlessly rejoined, as if it had never been cut. It was hard to believe even as she watched, a feat bordering on sorcery.
‘This is the Divine Physician’s medical skill...’
Awestruck by the unfamiliar techniques, Sohwa listened intently to the old physician's explanations.
“Martial artists can control bleeding with pressure point techniques and heal internal injuries with their internal energy. But by excising damaged tissue and suturing the wound, even ordinary people can survive otherwise fatal injuries.” His voice was filled with quiet pride.
He picked up another piece of dough and repeated the process, this time demonstrating a different technique: removing necrotic tissue and bone fragments. “Sometimes, the pain is so intense that the patient loses consciousness. In such cases, you need to administer a sedative before performing this procedure. I have a manual with the appropriate formulas...” He glanced at the chest of drawers, then back at the Tang Clan members. “The Divine Physician’s techniques may seem simple, but mastering them takes years of practice. One must study for several years before earning the right to be called a member of the Divine Physician's troupe.”
Though the techniques seemed anything but simple, Sohwa remained silent, listening respectfully.
The old physician’s gaze shifted to Tang Min, the cheerful expression fading from his face. “I’m willing to share our medical knowledge, but can you stay here for that long?”
“A few days, perhaps. But not years.”
The old physician nodded, as if expecting his answer. Then, in a gentle voice, he offered an alternative. “Jeomchil has mastered the Divine Physician's techniques.” The smile vanished completely from his face.
“As I said before, human connections can be either a boon or a bane, depending on the circumstances.” His dark eyes, fixed on the Tang Clan members, gleamed with an unsettling intensity.
His voice, calm and measured, resonated with an unexpected weight. “I would like you to take Jeomchil with you.”