799 - I Am This Murim’s Crazy B*tch

The exposed skin was full of deep wrinkles, crisscrossing like a net. One might painfully admit, he appeared to be at least a hundred and fifty years old if one were to judge by the so-called ‘face value.’ Despite his advanced age, the elderly man's back wasn't hunched or crooked. Instead, he stood tall and straight on his own two feet—a countenance worthy of the celestial immortals. However, the esteemed demeanor of an immortal isn’t always meant positively; among the Central Plains' renowned immortals, figures like Zhong Liquan and Li Tieguai stand out as odd cases. For context, Zhong Liquan and Li Tieguai are members of the Eight Immortals in Taoism, famous for their unattractive and scruffy appearances. The old man in front of them was similar, with heavily wrinkled cheeks hanging loosely. To any observer, he wouldn’t appear as a kind doctor but rather as a grim, ill-natured old man with a terribly sour disposition. "Greetings are unnecessary. Why show such courtesy to a wandering old man like me? Besides, am I really someone worthy of all these pleasantries? Enough already." He gestured to the group, who had awkwardly started to rise, to cease their greetings, and promptly extended his hand towards Qing. "Perfect timing. Hand me some money." He asked as if Qing was made to hold his savings. While the boldness of the old man's gesture was significant, Qing yielding to it without fuss was similarly remarkable. Casually, Qing untied his money pouch and placed it directly into the old man’s hands. The elder quickly snatched the pouch, peeked inside, and then wore a sly grin. "Kee-hee, quite hefty, isn't it? This will be plenty useful for me. With this much, I'll indulge myself extensively for a while. Or maybe I'll experiment a bit with this and that." Qing’s friends exchanged glances. Trusting such an old man’s face wasn’t easy, no matter how you looked at it. Even if he claimed he’d do something good with the gold that made him drool. However, Qing knew better. Surprisingly, he was someone who truly used it for a good cause. Hadn't the elder just declared he’d spend liberally, trying out new herbs and treatments? While he admired the gold coins within the pouch for a while, the old man suddenly turned his head. "Hm? Why are you all just standing there staring? It looks like you're all from wealthy families, so you should have some money to spare. Now would be a good time to bestow some charity." It wasn’t only Qing; the old man was also showing interest in the pouches of others in the group. Qing approached the elderly man with familiarity. “Oh, come on, elder. You said you have enough now; how about having a seat first? Your face looks quite worn out. Are you eating properly?” "Snort. Do you think I'd be doing this if it was just for food? If I had extra money, I'd make another batch of medicine." "Heh, you're going to collapse at this rate. If you fall, then all patients will be left unattended. Since we don’t often meet, replenish your energy first. After all, they say a meal is the best medicine." “Hah, who says that? I've never heard such nonsense in my life." The old man scoffed. But then he scrunched up his eyes as if in thought. "Well, maybe it isn't entirely nonsense. Those weakened from not eating do get up quickly once they're well-fed. Sure, a meal could indeed be the best medicine." The old man promptly took a seat. In the culture of the Central Plains, it’s polite to refuse an offer once before accepting. Simply sitting down after being invited to dine is considered slightly impolite, though not severely so. "This is Hui-mae, a sworn sibling, and this is Zha-yao, my daughter. And then…” Qing went on to introduce the group. The old man, however, seemed only half-listening, busy filling his plate with food. Then, without pause, he began devouring as if he didn't care if the food went in through his nose or ears. While extraordinarily rude, Qing's group had long witnessed the elder’s devouring manner, so they took no offense. However, while Qing ate with delighted satisfaction, the old man’s way of devouring was purely gluttonous, intending only to swallow. Given reports of an old man offering free medical services to the poor across the Jianghu, this image didn’t match at all. Wasn’t he just an audacious old beggar? While some in the group were seriously pondering whether he was a deceitful scammer, the elder finished his meal. “Burp, ah, that was satisfying.” “Already finished?” “Of course, a meal only needs to fill the belly. Looks like you've had your fill too. Let's wrap it up; it's time to go.” “Eh?” “What’s with the 'eh'? Aren’t you going? Aren’t you going to see your patients?” Qing blinked, once, twice. “Uh… Elder. I was actually on my way to the Wudang Sect.” “Oh? Did someone collapse there?” “No.” “Then is someone going to die if you don’t go?” “Well, no, not really–” “Then what's the real matter? The Wudang Sect won't lose anyone immediately if you’re not there, but if you help me, we might save at least one or two more lives. Can anything be more important than saving lives?” "Uh, um. Should we head out right now?” Qing wasn’t the type to be swayed easily by others. But the opponent was formidable. Because, above the old man's head, shone dazzling blue characters indicating a virtuous conduct—higher than anyone Qing had encountered in their journeys across Jianghu. Combined with the deep-seated cultural etiquette dictating respect for elders— The old man was an opponent Qing could hardly resist, almost like her arch-nemesis. “In that case, should we go now or when everyone is dead? Or will you wait until all your patients have perished before leaving?” “Hehe, that’s not what I mean, elder. Um, let's just book a place to stay. After helping you, we can then—” “What's this talk of lodging? Armed men like us are worth ten healthy youths in labor. Why let them idle? We can all go together.” “Hold on! What nonsense is this?!” Tang Nanah's sharp voice echoed throughout, taking a stand for Qing, who had been subtly ensnared by the old man's request. Tang Nanah was the infamous villainess of Sichuan, and (other people’s) age was just a number to her. Tang Nanah was someone who would speak her mind freely, even telling the elders of her own clan things they sometimes couldn’t—or shouldn’t—hear. So what if he was a renowned doctor? Our Tang clan consists of doctors, and we too engage in a lot of humanitarian work. What makes this old man so special? Tang Nanah was a refreshingly candid woman who would express her thoughts to anyone at any moment. Although sometimes, the problem was that she said more than she should. “Isn't it said there's a plague? So where exactly do you intend to take us during a plague outbreak? If it spreads, will you take responsibility?” “Ah. Uh, then maybe I should just help by myself—” “Qing-ah, this isn’t such a simple matter, you know? I’m aware of how overly kind-hearted you are, but do you even know why it's called a plague? It’s named so because we don’t know what it is! The most frightening diseases are those even doctors can't identify. Who in their right mind would enter a place plagued by an unknown illness?” The elderly man might have seemed mad to drag along a reluctant crew. However, Tang Nanah's reasoning was sound. The most dangerous diseases are those where even physicians cannot discern their nature. Nobody knows if it’s contagious or not, whether one can approach the patient safely, or what symptoms it manifests. Without details on the symptoms, unless it immediately makes one visibly ill post-exposure, you might not even know you’ve contracted it. From Tang Nanah’s perspective, regardless of the venerable reputation the elder held for saving patients— It wasn’t the kind of issue to be taken so casually and carelessly shuffled around. Yet, how could the elder be unaware of such risks? “Huh, now anyone hearing might think I'm tricking a naive kid. It’s precisely because it’s not contagious that I’m asking for help. I wouldn’t ask otherwise if it were dangerous.” “Hmph! Not contagious? Then what exactly is it? Surely there must be a name for it?” “Ahem, that is…” The elder trailed off. For if a name had been known, there wouldn’t be rumors of a plague; news of a specific disease spreading would be more direct. Tang Nanah placed her hand on her hip. “See? I knew it. How can you claim it’s not contagious without knowing the disease? If it turns out to be, you'll just say, ‘Oh, so it was contagious,’ and leave it at that?” “No, this tiny thing is arguing like crazy in front of an elder. Aren’t you supposed to trust a doctor’s word? Do you know anything about medicine?” “Hmph! I am a doctor too, you know? Part of the Sichuan Tang clan, known for its skilled physicians. And here you are questioning my medical knowledge in front of such renown.” “Ha! Are stray dogs and cats all doctors these days? What makes a little girl like you a physician?” “Excuse me!? You old—are you really going to make some sexist remark about women not being doctors—” “What's the issue here? I've spent my whole life studying medical texts and can proudly say I’m a mere wandering physician. Yet, a young girl like you dares to call yourself a doctor?” This time, Tang Nanah was left speechless. Historically, 'Lang Zhong(郞中)' referred to a medium skilled in medical arts. In the past, medicine wasn’t considered an academic or technical discipline, but rather part of charms and witchcraft. It was only during the Tang Dynasty that the court gathered physicians, organized medical texts, and established medical academies, starting to call healers either 'physicians' or 'doctors.' From then, 'Lang Zhong' began to mean two things: One, an old-fashioned respectful term for a physician; two, a quack whose medical knowledge was dubious, not knowing if they practiced medicine or sorcery. The latter became common use because many snake-oil salesmen selling miracle cures would label themselves 'Lang Zhong' or 'Divine Lang Zhong' on large flags. Thus, the old man wasn't refusing to recognize the engineering profession, but rather addressing this widespread belief. After all, I've spent my whole life studying medicine just to barely qualify as a 'Lang Zhong,' yet someone as young as you dares to proclaim themselves a physician? If she were to retort in a way that seemed to diminish her own professional pride as a female doctor by implying, "Isn't one a doctor if they learn medicine?" "Anyhow, it's not contagious. Do you think the patients are the only ones who stayed back? Their families, favorite servants, and even locals who refuse to abandon their homes are there, but not a single new case of those symptoms has occurred despite the quarantine being in place for two months. It’s not contagious." If there hadn’t been any contagion for over two months— Despite still not knowing the exact nature of the illness, that was ample time to judge it non-contagious. 音, if the elder insists like this, perhaps it’s not highly contagious after all. Since not just patients but their caregivers and family members remain near a quarantined city and are all reportedly healthy. And with cosmic mysterious inner power said to grant remarkable immunity even against illnesses, if ordinary people are fine, imagine what martial artists would manage. So, let’s lend a hand for a moment— Qing suddenly tilted her head. “Elder? Didn’t you say there are many family members of the patients still there? Even so, are you short-staffed? I’m not saying this because I intend not to go.” The elder caught himself. “Ahem. Did I not mention? While warriors who wield swords are useful in many ways, one of the things we need most right now are actually those adept in combat.” “Are you saying you need martial artists?” The elder snorted. “There are always a few lowlifes in the world, mind you. Among them, there are indeed ones who would prey upon the sick. They are wretched rats worthy of drowning in their cesspools.”