Doctor Goes Back to Joseon - Chapter 48: Short-Term Military Surgeon [1]

*Samyeongdang*—otherwise known as Great Master Samyeong.

Even Kang-hyuk, who lacked formal education, recognized the name. Though the name Yu-jeong was unfamiliar, Samyeongdang was not.

“Ah, Great Master Samyeong….”

“I am not a great master,” Yu-jeong replied.

“Oh, not yet, perhaps?”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

Yu-jeong stared at Kang-hyuk, blinking, his gaze holding a mysterious energy that left Kang-hyuk with an odd feeling. It was enough to make the legendary tales about Samyeongdang seem plausible.

‘No, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.’

If he spoke carelessly and things went awry, it could have serious consequences. After all, Yu-jeong seemed destined for greatness someday.

“I was simply moved by your earlier sermon and spoke without thinking.”

“Thank you for your kind words. Magistrate and Abbot, please rise as well.”

“Ah, yes, yes.”

The magistrate stood up with a face full of reverence, his knees visibly worn from the repeated bowing. He likely wouldn’t even bow this fervently to the king.

“What an honor this is! I must make an additional donation.”

“Please don’t overextend yourself.”

“No, no. No amount would be sufficient.”

The magistrate bowed politely once more before hurriedly leaving the room, undoubtedly heading straight to the government office to gather something to offer.

“What on earth is all this commotion about?”

As Kang-hyuk stepped outside, he saw Makbong and Yeon blocking the crowd, with many people straining their ears to listen. Inside, words like “living Buddha,” “sacred relic,” and “sarira” had been thrown around—it was natural for curiosity to be piqued.

The abbot, eager to capitalize on the moment, addressed the gathering. He now held the sarira (salivary stone) aloft, standing in front of the crowd.

“This came from Yu-jeong’s body.”

The stone, already white, gleamed radiantly under the sunlight, appearing extraordinary even to Kang-hyuk, who had no shred of religious devotion.

‘Is that really a sarira?’

He glanced skeptically at Yu-jeong. Of all people, he was the legendary Samyeongdang.

‘Still, it’s just a salivary stone.’

It couldn’t be anything else. But the crowd reacted differently.

“Aigo!” someone exclaimed.

“Lord Buddha!” cried another, bowing fervently.

Satisfied with the response, the abbot continued, a pleased smile on his face.

“This sacred relic was removed from Yu-jeong by the nobleman here.”

This time, he gestured toward Kang-hyuk.

Once again, the crowd erupted.

“Aigo!”

“A true nobleman!”

Before he knew it, Kang-hyuk had become the doctor who treated a living Buddha. The rumors spread like wildfire, elevating his reputation dramatically. Even without stepping into the marketplace, stories about him could be heard everywhere.

Most of them were exaggerated or outright absurd.

“Did you hear Yu-jeong’s sermon?”

“They get better by the day.”

“They say that it was Baek Kang-hyuk who treated the monk.”

“Apparently, a sarira came out of Baek Kang-hyuk too!”

“No wonder he could banish smallpox.”

“Smallpox?”

“Didn’t you know? They say he fought the god of smallpox atop Gwanggyo Mountain.”

Before long, Kang-hyuk was being described as a divine physician, even a healer who had battled mythical beings. No one dared to refute these claims.

As a result, donations flooded in, many addressed directly to Kang-hyuk.

“Let’s see… this is from the magistrate of Gwacheon, this one from Juksan, and another from Yangseong.”

The influx of gifts kept Kang-hyuk’s companions extremely busy. Among them, Yeon played an indispensable role thanks to her literacy. At that moment, she was sorting through the various items that had arrived from all over.

The sheer volume was enough to fill an entire bookshelf.

“Where should I put this?” Dolseok asked, dripping with sweat.

He was carrying a sack of rice, so his exhaustion was understandable.

“Just give that one to the temple.”

“Ah, yes.”

Normally, Dolseok would have protested loudly, but this time he didn’t.

Though he was usually greedy for things he hadn’t earned, there was simply too much rice for even him to covet.

“Where has the young master gone?”

Makbong asked as he lugged a pile of furs. He, too, was busy with the work. Born with a naturally robust build and strengthened further through labor, he was adept at hauling heavy loads.

“Ugh,” Dolseok grumbled as he set down the rice. His tone was unenthusiastic.

“He went off to spar with Yeon in taekkyeon earlier.”

“Hah.”

Under normal circumstances, this might have been infuriating, but in truth, it wasn’t. The goods he was carrying were all gifts from Kang-hyuk to Makbong and Yeon—rice, rare furs, fine silk, salt, and even ox carts to carry them.

Following Kang-hyuk was infinitely better than toiling away in the market.

“I could teach him better myself.”

“You got your butt handed to you by Yeon this morning.”

“I didn’t lose. I just slipped!”

“We all saw it. If I were you, I’d learn from Yeon too.”

“Ugh, you…!”

Makbong raised a fist in mock frustration but couldn’t bring himself to strike. After all, Dolseok was the one who kept him company for drinks at night.

If they weren’t in a temple, Makbong would have plenty of nightlife opportunities in Anseong. What a shame.

While Makbong clicked his tongue in regret, Kang-hyuk was sprinting around, breathless.

“Why are you so fast!”

“Do you think I’m a tightrope walker for nothing?”

Despite his efforts, Yeon’s foot soon struck his back squarely.

“Ugh.”

The blow left him groaning.

Yeon approached with a concerned look.

“Are you alright? I went easy on you.”

“It hurts.”

It wasn’t an exaggeration—it really did hurt. Yeon was far more skilled than she let on.

“Let me take a look.”

She reached to lift Kang-hyuk’s shirt.

“Hey, hey! You’re taking off my clothes?”

“I have to see the injury. Don’t you do the same for your patients?”

Now that she mentioned it, she wasn’t wrong.

“Fine, then.”

Kang-hyuk pulled his shirt up himself.

“How is it?”

“You’re bruised,” Yeon said.

“Right? No wonder it hurts.”

“What should we do?”

“How could you kick me that hard when I’m still a beginner?”

“You’re actually pretty good sometimes,” Yeon said earnestly.

“Good, my foot,” Kang-hyuk retorted.

He hadn’t put in the effort to get better, so how could he improve? Once again, he hadn’t even grazed Yeon today. In contrast, he’d been hit countless times, and this was the first one that really hurt.

“No, really, you’re doing well,” Yeon insisted.

“Fine, if you say so.”

“Should I apply something here?”

“Would there even be anything to apply?”

There was such a thing as bruise ointment, but you’d have to go to a hospital to get it. Here, they didn’t have such luxuries.

“Let’s just use cold water.”

“Alright, young master.”

Yeon dashed off as if she’d sprouted wings and returned with her sleeve soaked in cold stream water.

“How does this feel?”

“It’s cold.”

“Does it help?”

“Yeah, it helps.”

For bruises, applying something cold right after an injury was one of the most basic treatments.

As they continued holding the cold compress to the bruise, Dolseok came running toward them, gasping for air, looking more hurried than usual.

This was odd. What kind of emergency could happen at a temple?

*Huff, huff.*

He was so out of breath from running that he couldn’t even comment on Kang-hyuk’s half-removed shirt or Yeon tending to his back.

“What’s going on?”

“Aigo…” Dolseok wheezed.

“Hey, spit it out!”

Although Kang-hyuk’s tone was brusque, he could sense something was seriously wrong. He quickly got to his feet.

After catching his breath, Dolseok finally managed to speak.

“Oetan-myeon… at Oetan-myeon…”

“You’re going to pass out at this rate. Speak slowly.”

“It’s chaos. Utter chaos.”

“What do you mean, chaos?”

Kang-hyuk didn’t recognize the name Oetan-myeon and didn’t understand what could be causing the commotion. Meanwhile, Yeon’s expression darkened rapidly. She, unlike Kang-hyuk, was familiar with the local geography and knew Oetan-myeon was a village under Suwon jurisdiction.

She urgently asked, “What happened there?”

“Wokou…” Dolseok gasped out.

Kang-hyuk still looked perplexed.

“Pirates? What pirates?”

The mention of Wokou, Japanese raiders, confused Kang-hyuk. The Imjin War was still far off—what were pirates doing here in this era?

“The Wokou?” Kang-hyuk repeated.

“Yes, the Wokou!”

“They came all the way here?” Kang-hyuk asked, incredulous.

Dolseok, frustrated, slapped his chest in exasperation. Kang-hyuk, who often seemed sharp, could also appear hopelessly dense at times.

“This temple, Chiljangsa, was rebuilt after being burned by the Wokou, remember?”

“Huh.”

It had indeed been rebuilt during the reign of King Jungjong, and now he knew the grim reason behind it.

“Well, then, we shouldn’t just be sitting around! We need to run!”

“No, young master, there you go again. The Wokou are in Oetan-myeon. Why would we run?”

“So it’s far away? Then why the fuss?”

“The magistrate plans to launch a punitive expedition, and he sent someone to request your help.”

“Huh.”

Kang-hyuk didn’t care who was calling him; the answer was the same. He didn’t want to go. If there was a war, running was the best option. He wasn’t a soldier or an official on the government payroll.

“Fine, let’s meet the messenger first.”

“Yes, young master. He’s waiting at the temple.”

Dolseok and Yeon led the way down the mountain path, moving quickly. Kang-hyuk trailed behind at a leisurely pace, pondering how to refuse.

Excuses weren’t hard to come by. For one, he was the eldest son of the Baek family. His younger brother might be a government official somewhere, but they hadn’t even seen each other in months—he was practically the definition of a neglectful son.

Secondly, he was still treating Samyeongdang, though there wasn’t much left to do for him.

‘Good, I’ll just use both excuses,’ Kang-hyuk decided.

By the time they reached the temple, he’d crafted his plan. The man who had come to meet him was someone Kang-hyuk knew—Inspector Lee Jeong-bok.

Unlike usual, Jeong-bok was dressed in military garb. The situation seemed serious.

“Ah, you’re here.”

“It’s been a while, Inspector.”

“Ha ha. There’s much I’d like to say, but time is short. The magistrate has requested your service as a military surgeon.”

“A military surgeon? But I don’t have much experience with trauma care.”

It was a blatant lie. Most of Kang-hyuk’s medical supplies were surgical tools, and the story of him treating Yi Sun-shin’s leg had already spread throughout Suwon.

The inspector smiled, taking Kang-hyuk’s words as modesty.

“Where else would we find a physician like you, Baek Kang-hyuk?”

Clearly, backing out wasn’t going to be easy.

“Hmm.”

Just as Kang-hyuk was about to deploy one of the excuses he’d prepared, someone tugged at his sleeve. He turned to see it was Yeon.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need to speak with you privately.”

It was unusual for Yeon to make such a request, and her expression left no room for refusal. Kang-hyuk reluctantly stepped aside to listen.

“What’s the matter?”

“The magistrate is calling you because of the Wokou in Oetan-myeon, correct?”

“Yes.”

“I know this is an unreasonable request, but could you please go?”

It truly was an unreasonable plea, and Kang-hyuk had no idea why she was asking.

“Why?”

“My father… my father is there, teaching at the Confucian academy.”