807 - I Am This Murim’s Crazy B*tch

[The Immortal Healer Who Conquers Thousand Diseases(萬病征服醫仙)] In an open clearing, two large flags were planted, their gold lettering on red fabric fluttering in the breeze. The Immortal Healer Who Conquers Thousand Diseases(萬病征服醫仙) The Divine Doctor Who Exchanges Life and Death for Joy(生死換歡神醫) In front of them stood a man with hands behind his back, gazing calmly at the gathering crowd. His appearance was indeed eye-catching. Clothed in brightly colored and fluttering garments patched together from various fabrics, he looked more like a shaman than any kind of physician. Qing's assessment was straightforward. Hmm. A quack. On top of that, judging from the aura of troubled karma, there's hardly a worse scoundrel. However, it's too early to judge. One can't assess only by appearances, and a troublesome aura isn't proof of being a fraudster. While all fraudsters might have troubled karma, not everyone with troubled karma is a fraudster. Thankfully, Qing had at her side a human encyclopedia—though terribly noisy and flawed in that aspect, yet still useful. "Zhuge, have you ever heard of him?" "A charlatan, indeed. I've never heard of such a person in all my life." Wasn't it Zhuge Leehyun, the living encyclopedia? Qing, just to cross-check, asked. "What about Nanah? Have you heard of him?" "A quack, right? What kind of doctor would put a name like that on a flag? If he fails a treatment, he's bound to be stabbed and dead." It was a cardinal sin for a physician. A doctor provides the best possible treatment, but ultimately, the outcome lies with the patient. Yet, should the treatment fail and the patient dies, human nature compels turning the blame on the physician. Especially plastering claims of guaranteed cures as on those banners, the hatred for failures would skyrocket, unbearable to bear. Even from the start, dressing like a shaman didn't help one bit to appear as a genuine physician. Strictly speaking, that fellow isn't practicing any sort of medicine at all. However, behind the peddler quietly stood a martial artist, hand resting on a sword's hilt—a true warrior, not a fake. His silent, menacing aura was sharply cutting, silencing the crowd drawn to the plaza. No matter how you looked at it, like a fake medicine seller, but with a master carrying gravitas in the background, it lent an air of credibility. Masters hold their honor dearly and wouldn't degrade themselves doing petty stints for any amount of gold. "Elder, what should we do?" "For now, let's hear him out. There's always the slim chance. He might actually have a legitimate cure." "Doesn't seem so from his appearance, though." "There was once this fellow who managed to stumble upon a truly effective remedy. Caught a rat by sheer accident, one in a million." The chief seemed displeased by it all yet remained cautiously open. As long as the remedy worked, what did looks matter? The peddler, scanning the audience, tensed slightly upon seeing Qing and her group. Even more suspicious, but understandable given there were martial artists among the sick ones, dressed finely with weapons. "Hmm. Are we all here? Well, if you weren't present, blame but your cursed fate." The peddler snapped his fingers. Then, a servant holding the flag stepped forward to announce. "Before you stands The Immortal Healer Who Conquers Thousand Diseases! The Divine Doctor Who Exchanges Life and Death for Joy! The medicine sage of all maladies, master of Hualao’s (華佗) legacy, Taipyeongja!" "Taipyeongja was originally the divine child of Jeongju, bequeathed the divine will by Hua Tuo himself, thus the true successor to Hualao's medicine!" Suspicion deepened on the faces of Qing's party. For these claims reeked of preposterousness. Not merely in shaman-like attire, he was indeed a shaman. Strangely, with Hua Tuo thrown into the mix. According to the servants' claims, he directly communicated with the legendary physician Hua Tuo, revered as a divine doctor, who allowed him to inherit his medical skills. Who's gullible enough to fall for such ridiculous tales? What shaman? There's no such thing! That was the take from the notorious diviners of Guangxi, renowned for their spiritual prowess. Yet, for the gathered crowd, the patients' families and kin, it seemed to leave quite an impression. “Ohhh.” “Hua Tuo!” “Sureley, it's Hua Tuo he incarnates!” In an era where even basic education was scarce, such vivid displays often worked on the ignorant populace. Plus, they were family of the sick. Should there be a chance of recovery, they'd believe any absurdity with desperation clinging on. Desperate to believe, grasping at any straw, you could say. However. It was utter nonsense on closer thought. If he were truly trained directly by Hua Tuo, what then? Hua Tuo, when rounded up, lived about one thousand five hundred years ago, didn't he? Even if taught by Hua Tuo back then, the medicine would be outdated by some fifteen hundred years, rife with fatally flawed treatments by today's standards. Even if Hua Tuo were resurrected, he'd hardly qualify as an apprentice in modern medical practice. For medicine has advanced over those fifteen hundred years. Yet? "I am Chailha from the land of Yeokmun! Grateful for Taipyeongja's miraculous treatment healing the maladies of Yeokmun, I've vowed to follow him at the cost of everything!" "I am Yeo Seungsam from the land of Sinpyeong! Taipyeongja administered over the bales of Sinpyeong as well!" Sinpyeong, Won-gang, I'll be damned if I know where, but they claimed effects had been seen in those places. Turns out, those following behind weren't mere servants, but allegedly those saved from ailments choosing to serve him of their own accord. "Elder? Are these places you know? They claim effects already, don't they?" "A typical trick of medicine sellers. No way to immediately verify if true or not. If true, that'd be nice, indeed." At that moment. "I am Yudong from Won-gang! Everyone, this person is truly a divine healer. When a vile plague swept through Won-gang, everyone was in despair, and this man—" "What ridiculous nonsense is this? A plague you call 'White-Clan Smallpox!'" The chief lashed out in anger. The crowd's gaze shifted towards him. "White-Clan Smallpox? Who has the audacity to name a disease so scandalously?" "I did, indeed. Isn't it customary for the physician who discovers the remedy to name the disease? Since I've already created a treatment for White-Clan Smallpox, I certainly have that right." Taipyeongja, unperturbed, replied. Once more, the crowd's attention returned to Taipyeongja. "You scoundrel! How dare you name a disease so arbitrarily?" "Why shouldn't I? The disease was spread by the White-Clan invaders, causing symptoms like mucous membrane eruptions and pustules similar to smallpox. Isn't White-Clan Smallpox a fitting name?" Qing unconsciously nodded. Hmm. So, it does fit the description of White-Clan Smallpox, doesn't it? Why, I remember back when, there was that pneumonia outbreak... wait, Wuhan, wasn't it from my hometown...? In Qing's homeland, there had been a serious epidemic that swept globally, originating from Wuhan in Hubei Province. And now, Qing considered it part of her hometown because the Divine Maiden Sect was there. "You fool! With White and Han and all others, who in this world can say they are of pure blood after five hundred years of intermarrying? Not one in Yunnan is free of White blood! If it's all the White people, why is this outbreak in Yunnan when it comes from Zhongyuan?" "Well. Ahem. That's something we'd find out eventually..." "How dare a physician name a disease with facts that are yet unproven!" Qing nodded again. Indeed, even if they are foreigners, where is there pure blood these days? Especially when in the previous dynasty, they intermarried so ruthlessly as if blending their people like cattle–there are no more purely blooded races left globally now. Particularly the Han, who pride themselves as the true Zhongyuan people—none left of pure blood in truth. All knew this, even if whispered quietly. Moreover, is there truly a disease that targets only a specific ethnicity? Like, wasn't it smallpox? Isn't that more about region and environment, like bacteria penetrating a sterile room or something? There couldn’t truly be a disease that spares a certain ethnicity, right? The more Qing thought about it, the more absurd it seemed. With cold eyes upon him, Taipyeongja shamelessly altered his words with a calm demeanor. "Nevertheless, what importance does a disease’s name hold? What's vital is I've discovered a remedy for this ghastly affliction. Behold, the Hualao Gongjindan! Not only does it cure the ailment, but also strengthens the personal core, ensuring restored health and longevity, a secret legacy of Hua Tuo!" "A secret legacy of Hualao, you say?" "Why, is it too unbelievable for you? But believe you will, as taking one pill morning, noon, and night for three days will raise the sick from their beds. I'll remain until my patients recover—then you shall believe." The chief was visibly flabbergasted. To claim he'd stay until his patient's recovery? Typically, such medicine sellers took their fee and vanished. Medicine hawkers' remedies at best were ineffective, at worst harmful with side effects. To claim a cure in three days and promise to remain until confirmation showcased unmistakable confidence unless indeed genuine. The crowd began bustling with nervous excitement, relief mixing with murmurings of salvation and divine intervention. Yet, that respite was soon shattered. "However, since precious medicinal ingredients were generously used, the cost isn’t modest. Yet, in the pursuit of saving lives, we’ll eliminate profit. Hence only the cost of ingredients, which is ten taels of gold." Ten taels of gold? Most people in Zhongyuan never even touch such currency. Certainly, as in a renowned novel from Qing's hometown, if one sets their mind to it, they might manage to gather it. But, few go through saving just to grasp such high value once. Ten taels per pill? How many of these poor patients could afford that? "Of course! I’m aware it’s a hefty sum. However, I must continue preparing prescriptions for numerous other patients. I can’t save only you and let others perish. However, there’s a way!" The crowd gazed at Taipyeongja, hanging on his words. "Fortunately, several benevolent benefactors have offered aid. They will provide opportunities for work repayment. A robust man may work three years, a woman two, and a young maiden just one." It was an invitation to sell their bodies. The particularly short term for young women was glaringly malicious in intent, was it not? "They say, when no funds exist for a parent’s funeral, even selling oneself fulfills filial piety. If that’s true for funerals, how much more for saving ailing parents or children? Parents of sick children would naturally want to save them without such demand." Claiming it natural for filial duty to involve the body’s sale? “I reiterate, there’s no need to worry about the medicine’s effect. I will stay approximately five days, ensuring you witness family recover before leaving with me.” Listening thus far, it seemed the medicine indeed worked. However, with costs so exorbitantly high, compelling bodies’ sale in such a vicious manner was truly deplorable, wasn't it? Hmm. Such nerve. Hence that vile karma. Even so, selling genuine medicine is better than outright fraud. Despicable though he may be, it's better than being a swindler. And the cost of the medicine being high? Qing took a step forward. "I will purchase everything! Everyone! I'll cover the cost of the medicine this time!" A sudden silence fell over the clearing. It was well known that the Lady of the Immortals, as she was often called, frequently looked after the sick, so the declaration that she would buy and distribute all of it came as a shock. Suddenly, people averted their gaze, unable to look directly upon her radiance. The heavens, it seemed, favored their lady so brilliantly that her dazzling presence moved them to tears... Yet, the eyes of Taipyeongja, faced with such a generous benefactor, trembled slightly. His demeanor was clearly one of confusion. "All of it? That would be one thousand taels in gold." "Only enough for a hundred doses? No problem. I'll pay for the ingredients so you can make more." "Uh... right! By the way, we don't accept promissory notes. Gold taels only, in actual currency!" "Then I'll get it exchanged. Hyemeh, could you run to the bank? Yes, one thousand taels. No, actually make it two thousand taels so we can have more. Mm, two thousand taels. But, will it be okay? Carrying around two thousand taels of gold isn't easy." "Ah, well, um." Taipyeongja stammered suspiciously. Then, with a sly grin, he smirked wickedly. "No, no. I cannot sell it to you." Qing's brow furrowed deeply. What is this bastard up to now?