Doctor Goes Back to Joseon - Chapter 47: This Time, a Monk [5]

*Gulp.*

The magistrate swallowed nervously.

He had heard all the talk about Kang-hyuk being a legendary doctor, but this was the first time he had actually witnessed one of his procedures.

The tools he used were indeed unconventional.

The rumors were true—he was extraordinary.

“Hoo.”

From the moment Kang-hyuk inserted the blade into the mouth, the magistrate found it hard to breathe properly.

In contrast, Yeoju had moved even closer. She observed intently, positioning herself as close as possible without interfering with Kang-hyuk’s work.

Meanwhile, her hands moved continuously, sketching the scene, which the abbot found particularly fascinating.

“Alright, I’m going to make an incision now.”

“Yes, sir,” Dolseok replied.

“You’ve got the swab ready?”

“Yes, yes,” Dolseok said, waving a small cotton swab.

As soon as the scalpel made the incision inside the mouth, blood began to flow—it was inevitable. Even if Kang-hyuk’s grandfather himself had performed the procedure, the result would be no different.

The only variable was the amount of blood—whether it was enough to require gauze or manageable with just the swab.

“Good.”

Even for Kang-hyuk, inserting a scalpel into someone’s mouth was a first.

This was a procedure usually performed by otolaryngologists, not general surgeons.

‘Eh, I’ve even opened up someone’s skull before.’

Had he done that because he was familiar with it? No—it was simply because he had studied it and followed the protocol.

In some third-world hospitals, doctors had even referred to YouTube as their teacher. By comparison, Kang-hyuk had actually seen surgeries performed in person, which put him ahead of the curve.

*Zzzing.*

The sharp scalpel cut through the mucosa.

To be more medically precise, the incision was made at the opening of the duct on the left submandibular gland where saliva drained.

Simultaneously, crimson blood oozed out, obstructing the view.

“Wipe it, wipe it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dolseok hurriedly dabbed with the swab.

“That’s enough for now.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dolseok immediately stopped dabbing.

But blood began flowing again from the same spot.

Though the amount had decreased, the situation still wasn’t optimal for surgery.

“Hey, it’s bleeding again. Wipe it.”

“Uh… yes, sir.”

“Do you think just wiping will stop the bleeding? Apply pressure.”

“Oh… yes.”

Dolseok felt incredibly wronged. He had done nothing but follow orders, yet all he got was scolding.

Had Kang-hyuk not been his master, he might have lashed out.

“There you go. That’s better.”

“Really? Hehe.”

Yet, a single word of praise melted Dolseok’s frustrations away.

“Now comes the important part. Watch and learn carefully.”

At Kang-hyuk’s words, Dolseok widened his eyes. Not that it made much difference—they weren’t big to begin with.

“Look closely.”

Kang-hyuk gently prodded the incision area with a fresh swab.

Some pus and rotten saliva that had been trapped inside began to seep out.

Dolseok muttered excitedly under his breath.

“It’s coming out. Those damn things are coming out.”

“This isn’t over yet.”

“It’s not?”

“No.”

Why would pus accumulate in the salivary gland in the first place? Every illness has a root cause.

The pus was merely a result of that cause.

“This might hurt a little.”

With a warning, Kang-hyuk applied force to the swab in his hand.

*Pop.*

With a rather crude sound, something large was expelled.

It was about the size of Dolseok’s fingernail.

Following that, saliva and pus, which had been blocked in the duct, gushed out in a torrent.

The flow was so intense that the foul odor filled the entire room.

“Ugh.”

The magistrate, who had a weak stomach, immediately opened the door.

“What’s going… oh!”

Yeon, who had approached due to the commotion, clutched her nose.

The stench was overpowering.

The only ones unaffected were Kang-hyuk, Dolseok, and Yu-jeong, the patient.

“Forceps.”

At Kang-hyuk’s brief command, Dolseok sprang into action.

He discarded the bloodied swab and rummaged for forceps.

“Is this it?”

“No, the one with teeth.”

“The one with teeth… where is it?”

“There, right there.”

“Oh, yes, sir.”

Using the forceps Dolseok handed him, Kang-hyuk carefully picked up the expelled object and placed it on a piece of gauze.

“Clean up the blood and pus.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dolseok began wiping the object with gauze without much thought.

“Whoa.”

“This… this is!”

The abbot and magistrate’s expressions grew peculiar as the object was cleaned.

Dolseok’s movements also became increasingly cautious, almost reverent.

“What are you doing? Keep wiping. It won’t break.”

“Oh, no… sir. What exactly is this?”

Dolseok pointed to the now gleaming object.

“What do you mean? It’s a stone.”

“Yes, but why is a stone coming out of someone’s body?”

“Oh.”

Kang-hyuk found the question surprisingly academic. He was impressed by Dolseok’s ability to think critically and ask such a question.

In 21st-century Korea, it was rare for anyone to ask questions, no matter how smart they were. Most simply listened silently.

From a teacher’s perspective, this kind of student was a treasure.

‘Yes, this is the kind of student that makes teaching worthwhile.’

It had been a long time since Kang-hyuk had reflected on the reasons for stone formation in the salivary gland.

‘It’s usually due to reduced saliva production… or because the submandibular gland has to work against gravity.’

As he contemplated a detailed explanation, he noticed something odd.

‘Why do they all look like that?’

Everyone else’s expressions were strange.

Dolseok was practically ready to bow to the stone.

The abbot and magistrate couldn’t remain seated and were awkwardly half-standing.

Even Yeoju had stopped drawing.

The only calm ones were Kang-hyuk and the patient, Yu-jeong.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“A relic… this is a relic.”

Dolseok could no longer even touch the salivary stone.

Instead, he alternated between staring at the patient and the stone with an awestruck expression.

“What do you mean, a relic? What nonsense… huh?”

“He’s a living Buddha. Truly a living Buddha!”

Kang-hyuk couldn’t even respond.

That was because Dolseok, followed by the abbot and magistrate, had started bowing deeply.

Dolseok still had his gloves and mask on, making it hard to reprimand him. His expression was so solemn that any interference might have been disastrous.

‘Have they all gone mad? No, wait… did they say *sarira*?’

Kang-hyuk glanced at Yu-jeong and the stone extracted from his salivary gland.

‘A monk and a stone… ah.’

It clicked. When a monk passes away, their body is cremated. Sometimes, stones remain unburned in the ashes, and these are called *sarira* (sacred relics).

To Kang-hyuk, those *sarira* were probably calcifications—stones formed in the gallbladder, kidneys, or, as in this case, the salivary gland.

‘So they think a living person has produced *sarira*.’

From Kang-hyuk’s perspective, it was an absurd notion, but he could understand their thinking.

‘Still, their reaction is over the top.’

The magistrate seemed to be using this as a way to vent his long-suppressed religious devotion. Kang-hyuk hadn’t counted, but the magistrate had already bowed more than ten times.

“It’s Buddha himself!”

At this point, the abbot should have intervened.

Instead, he was just as out of it—he had picked up a wooden fish drum and was striking it rhythmically.

‘Seriously… they’re bowing to someone who’s still bleeding.’

The wound needed to be treated. The incision in the salivary duct had to be narrowed to stop the bleeding. For that, assistance was essential.

“Dolseok.”

“Ah, Buddha!”

“Dolseok.”

“Ah, the living Buddha has appeared!”

“You little—”

“Eek.”

Although it was a slightly irreverent act, Kang-hyuk had no choice. The so-called “living Buddha” still needed treatment.

“Help me. The monk’s treatment isn’t finished yet.”

“Oh, yes, yes! What should I do?”

Dolseok’s attitude became far more proactive than usual, though his hands still trembled, hesitant to touch.

“Hold the mouth open like before. What are you doing?”

“But… how could I?”

“Good grief.”

It was Yu-jeong who came to the rescue.

“There is no difference from before. Just proceed as comfortably as you did earlier.”

“But…”

“I am neither a living Buddha nor a high monk. I am merely a patient in need of treatment.”

“Oh, yes, yes. As you say.”

Only then did Dolseok pry open Yu-jeong’s mouth.

Yu-jeong behaved exactly as he had before.

Considering the commotion the abbot and magistrate were making nearby, it was impressive that he remained unfazed.

After all, Yu-jeong likely couldn’t differentiate between the sacred relic they revered and the extracted salivary stone.

‘What incredible composure.’

If he wasn’t a living Buddha, he certainly seemed like a high monk.

Kang-hyuk found his tone softening involuntarily.

“It’s almost done. Please bear with it for a little longer.”

“Yes, benefactor.”

At that, Yu-jeong opened his mouth again. Inside, blood, pus, and saliva continued to flow out. The swelling in the submandibular gland had visibly reduced, even to an observer standing outside the room.

‘This was really severe. How did he manage to deliver sermons like this?’

Medically, it didn’t make sense. If Kang-hyuk hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn’t have believed it.

Either way, it was best to finish quickly.

Surgeries shouldn’t be drawn out unnecessarily.

“Dolseok, keep holding it open.”

“Yes, young master.”

“It’ll be over soon.”

Kang-hyuk stitched up the incision he had made, leaving a small opening approximately 0.5 cm wide.

Through this, saliva would continue to drain.

‘This should be enough.’

Even if another stone formed, it could easily pass through. Though it would be a problem if every incident caused such an uproar.

The magistrate was now kneeling on a cushion, continuing his bows.

If Chang-gwon had witnessed this, he might have chopped off the magistrate’s topknot—or worse, his head.

‘Good grief.’

Kang-hyuk averted his eyes from the magistrate and looked at Yu-jeong instead.

Yu-jeong still appeared calm and composed.

“All done. There’s still some inflammation, so you’ll need to take the prescribed medicine.”

“Thank you, benefactor.”

Yu-jeong took the medicine Kang-hyuk offered without a word of complaint.

The abbot, still rhythmically tapping the wooden fish drum, cautiously asked,

“Is he fully healed now?”

“No.”

The inflammation was too severe; Yu-jeong would need to take the medicine for a few more days.

“Then… could you stay here a bit longer until he fully recovers?”

The abbot’s eyes were practically pleading.

Yu-jeong was a “living Buddha,” and Kang-hyuk was the man who treated him—it was only natural.

‘The government office is spacious and nice, but…’

The temple was far from the town. Commuting back and forth every day would be impossible.

‘When will I ever get to sleep in a temple again?’

It seemed like it would be an interesting experience.

Besides, Dolseok wouldn’t listen if Kang-hyuk told him to leave now. He was still squabbling with the magistrate, alternating between bows and playful tussling.

“I’ll stay for a few more days to monitor the wound.”

“Thank you so much. Yu-jeong mentioned earlier that a distinguished guest would arrive today. It must have been you.”

“A distinguished guest?”

“Yes.”

Hearing that, Dolseok, who was still bowing, jumped up.

He recalled the conversation he had overheard before entering the room.

“That’s amazing. Simply amazing!”

“What is?”

“The monk said a distinguished guest would arrive today. I heard it too.”

“Really?”

The abbot added to Dolseok’s words.

“He has never mentioned anything like that before. It must have been about you.”

That was curious.

From his voice during the sermon to his demeanor during the surgery, Yu-jeong was clearly no ordinary person.

Perhaps he was a truly remarkable figure—one beyond Kang-hyuk’s knowledge.

“Amazing. What was your name again?” Kang-hyuk asked.

“I am Yu-jeong, though you may also call me by my dharma name, *Samyeongdang*. [1]”

* * *
Footnote:

[1] Samyeongdang (사명당): A renowned Buddhist monk of the late Joseon Dynasty, known for his leadership and contributions during the Imjin War. Revered as a symbol of patriotism and spiritual integrity, his legacy continues to hold a prominent place in Korean history.