Doctor Goes Back to Joseon - Chapter 41: Mama Baesonggut [1]

“[When smallpox spreads, a feast is held 14 days later to console the dead and celebrate the living. This feast takes the form of a ritual or performance known as Mama Baesonggut.]”
– Excerpt from *Baek Kang-hyuk Chronicles* by Jeong Yeoju

The shamans, already possessed, moved with remarkable speed.

They were already at the top of the hill, or rather, at the village square.

The magistrate was on horseback, organizing the necessary supplies.

‘Damn it.’

Even though Kang-hyuk was resolute, he hesitated to disrupt the ritual.

‘But I should say something, right?’

After all, he was a doctor.

Gathering people together in the midst of an epidemic?

And not even for treatment, but for a ritual?

That was completely unacceptable.

“Ex-excuse me, Magistrate, sir!”

Kang-hyuk, catching his breath, finally managed to speak.

The magistrate, in the middle of directing people, turned around.

His face showed a warm welcome.

“Oh, Kang-hyuk. Take a rest, won’t you? I heard you were up all night.”

“No, I’m fine. More importantly…”

Kang-hyuk, catching his breath, looked around.

Brightly dyed fabrics fluttered everywhere.

He noticed sharp knives and ritual blades.

“Moo…”

Even the cow, sensing its fate, looked tearful and lowed in sorrow.

The ritual was on the verge of beginning.

Fortunately, everyone except those Kang-hyuk had sent away was already gathered.

They hadn’t called the entire village yet.

“Must you really hold this ritual?”

The magistrate chuckled quietly at Kang-hyuk’s question.

Thankfully, he didn’t react too harshly.

The magistrate had a high opinion of Kang-hyuk, after all.

“You really are a scholar at heart, aren’t you?”

“What?”

A scholar? What nonsense was that?

He was just learning the basic characters.

But the magistrate was unaware of this.

To him, the poem Kang-hyuk had once written was quite impressive.

He probably assumed Kang-hyuk’s scholarly level was higher than it was.

If he knew Kang-hyuk could only recite about three poems, he’d be quite irritated.

“I know. A ritual… isn’t exactly logical. But it must be done.”

“You mean it’s a way to show the people you care?”

“Precisely. You’re perceptive, understanding a magistrate’s intentions already.”

“Couldn’t you delay this display of care a little?”

“And why would I do that?”

The magistrate’s face stiffened slightly.

Not a good sign.

‘Hmm. What should I do?’

Kang-hyuk racked his brain.

Various thoughts began to float around.

The first was somewhat selfish.

‘Is it necessary to upset the magistrate? If this small village goes under…’

With the cow pus available, not everyone would die.

More would die than if they didn’t gather, though.

‘No, that’s wrong.’

The second thought was more conscientious.

‘We’ve been through a lot together… it wouldn’t be right to antagonize him.’

They’d seen each other nearly every day since he came to Joseon.

They’d even shared drinks multiple times.

He was close with his father, too.

More importantly, the magistrate seemed open to listening.

‘Let’s improvise and make something plausible.’

From what he could see, it would be impossible to completely prevent the ritual.

And it wasn’t entirely necessary to do so.

“There are too many sick people in the village right now.”

Kang-hyuk gestured toward the clinic entrance.

Heo Jun and his team, who had been going around the village, were just coming in.

Only seven left initially, but fifteen were returning.

Eight of them were patients.

Not a small number.

“It would be difficult to gather all the villagers.”

“Yes, that would be unavoidable.”

“If any sick people were to join, it could be catastrophic. Gathering them all could spread the illness.”

“Does smallpox spread that way?”

Even now, some thought of illness as a form of punishment.

A divine retribution for some wrongdoing—a so-called heavenly punishment.

Especially diseases as visibly horrific as smallpox were seen that way.

Similar prejudices and discrimination have been recorded around the world regarding leprosy.

The actual cause didn’t matter much.

It wasn’t a time when people could know.

“Yes, it does.”

“Hmm.”

The magistrate didn’t question further.

He simply listened because it was Kang-hyuk speaking.

“Still, it must be done.”

“Yes, but could we delay it just a bit?”

“Delay it?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.”

This time, the magistrate seemed to hesitate.

Over twenty soldiers were waiting for his orders.

Once commanded, they would start gathering the villagers.

The shamans would perform the ritual, spilling the cow’s blood as an offering.

The performers would sing and dance to entertain the smallpox god.

The villagers would feel reassured by the spectacle.

Though it would only be superficial.

“Hmm…”

It seemed he was having trouble deciding.

After a long moment, the magistrate finally spoke.

“For how long?”

“Pardon?”

“How long should I delay it?”

“Oh.”

Kang-hyuk thought back to his knowledge of smallpox.

‘Starting with red spots… then pustules, then scabs form to mark the end…’

It would take about 10 days.

To be safe, 14 days.

‘Some will likely die, but…’

Compared to other areas, this village was relatively better off.

With Kang-hyuk and Heo Jun here.

“Please give me 14 days.”

“Fourteen days? That’s a bit long.”

“But it’s essential. I’ll do my best to prevent any problems during that time.”

“Hmm.”

It was a request from Kang-hyuk, of all people.

And, as always, he exuded confidence.

At least when it came to illnesses, Kang-hyuk had never let him down.

“Very well. Agreed.”

“Ah, really?”

“Yes, but only for fourteen days. Not a day more.”

“Yes, that’s plenty.”

As long as it didn’t spread further, that should be enough.

The current infected would either recover or… pass within those fourteen days.

One way or another.

The magistrate, now fully decided, spoke decisively.

“Alright, cancel it for now!”

The shamans, deeply engrossed in their preparations, looked back in surprise.

One of them, a very old man, hurried over.

“Sir, if you cancel, the smallpox god may get angry…”

Angry over a god that doesn’t even exist?

Kang-hyuk shook his head in disbelief.

“Don’t worry. We’ll hold it in fourteen days.”

“But we’ve already made promises…”

“Just show extra dedication then.”

“But…”

The elderly shaman looked imploringly at the magistrate.

But the magistrate had already made up his mind.

“Enough. Just follow Baek’s advice and show more sincerity. Offer another dedication or something.”

“Uh… yes, as you wish.”

The shaman could only nod reluctantly.

For the shamans, the smallpox god might have been fearsome, but the magistrate was scarier.

Perhaps because the magistrate could take their lives instantly.

Their resentment was directed at Kang-hyuk.

He could see the glare of their angry eyes.

But Kang-hyuk paid no mind.

‘They might try a hex or something.’

If they do, they do.

Kang-hyuk passed the baffled shamans and headed back to the clinic.

For Yeoju, it was as if she’d come all this way for nothing.

But she didn’t seem too upset.

She had just witnessed someone standing up to the magistrate.

And he’d succeeded, no less.

“Young Master, you seem to fear nothing.”

“Huh? What do you mean by that?”

“Thinking to defy the magistrate, sir.”

“Oh, well… I just thought it would be fine.”

It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought it through.

Living in society, he had learned when to push and when not to.

But Yeoju couldn’t know this background.

Though she was intelligent and resolute, she lacked the experience.

And someone as fearless as Kang-hyuk was rare.

To her, he just seemed remarkable.

“My father couldn’t have postponed the ritual, even if he were here.”

“Really? Professor Jeong?”

“Yes, my father too.”

“Hmm.”

That was unexpected.

He thought that old Joseon scholar would even interrupt a ritual.

After all, his mind was filled with Confucian doctrines.

“Anyway, we have time now. Let’s make good use of it.”

Kang-hyuk hurried into the clinic.

The yard was crowded with the patients Heo Jun had sent over.

They were clearly smallpox cases.

‘Heo Jun certainly has a good eye.’

He had handpicked these patients and sent them over; now, it was Kang-hyuk’s turn to treat them.

“Let’s start by applying pus to their noses!”

It was an outrageous command, but the patients were all farmers.

They had no way to refuse.

Kang-hyuk wasn’t alone either; the magistrate was nearby.

And the soldiers standing around were intimidating enough.

“Urgh.”

“Ugh.”

“Ack.”

All they could do was scream.

“Alright, next…”

It was time to administer medicine according to their symptoms.

“Leave that to me.”

Heo Jun, busy brewing herbal medicine, stepped forward.

He had already prepared Yanggyeoksan, Seonbanghwal

myungum, and even other unfamiliar medicines.

The fragrance of the herbs was unique and seemed rarer than Seonbanghwalmyungum.

“There’s a medicine I haven’t seen before.”

“Oh, yes. This is… Gamibulhwan Geumjeongsan, a medicine for patients whose pustules have already dried.”

“Oh, I see.”

Eight characters in the name.

Kang-hyuk quickly noted it down, while Yeoju drew each herb that went into it.

Tangerine peel, Cangshu, peppermint, Cnidium, and many other rare herbs filled the list.

If the magistrate hadn’t opened the storeroom, this treatment wouldn’t be possible.

As Heo Jun stirred the pot, he suddenly turned to Kang-hyuk.

“By the way, the patient in the storeroom isn’t doing well. I checked, but…”

His trailing off suggested things were bad.

Kang-hyuk’s easygoing demeanor turned serious.

“What’s the condition?”

“There’s blood in his cough.”

“Blood? Damn.”

Blood in any condition was a bad sign.

And hemoptysis was among the worst.

Especially in smallpox, it was grave.

Kang-hyuk hurried to the storeroom.

“Cough.”

He immediately spotted the patient coughing incessantly.

With each cough, he spat out bright red blood, staining his clothes.

The foam in the blood made it clear—this was hemoptysis.

“Are you alright?”

“Ugh…”

He wasn’t alright.

With high fever and coughing blood, how could he be?

The empty IV dangling from his arm shook.

There was no more fluid to give, so he could only look at him helplessly.

‘Hemorrhagic smallpox… This man won’t survive.’

Hemorrhagic smallpox.

A form of infection with nearly 100% mortality.

Once it progressed to this stage, no one could save him.

Kang-hyuk recalled an old lesson.

Sometimes, a doctor must make choices regarding life and death.

Sometimes, the best treatment is to reduce suffering.

‘This is meaningless pain.’

Kang-hyuk administered a narcotic analgesic. Three ampoules in quick succession.

It was all he had, more than enough to alleviate the patient’s pain.

It would also suppress his breathing, potentially bringing about death.

“Just endure a bit longer. You’ll feel better.”

“Th-thank you.”

Unaware of what Kang-hyuk was injecting, the patient nodded gratefully.

“Then… rest.”

“Yes, doctor.”

Leaving the patient’s final words behind, Kang-hyuk exited the storeroom.

For some reason, he remembered the Hippocratic Oath he took when he first became a doctor.

‘For now, I’ll focus on those I can save. The ritual has been delayed… no time to rest now.’