Chapter 376
The scene could only be described as *Insaninhae* (A Sea of People).
The crowd was so immense because word had spread that Jin Tae-Kyung, also known as the *Yeolhwasinryong* (Blazing Fire Dragon), and Cheongpung, the *Hwasansinryong* (Divine Dragon of Mount Hua), were leaving.
It wasn’t just the martial artists; even fearless commoners had gathered, forming an endless line of people bidding them farewell.
“Farewell, *Yeolhwasinryong* (Blazing Fire Dragon)!”
“Sichuan’s Murim will never forget you!”
“It’s a horned snake! *Hwasansinryong* (Divine Dragon of Mount Hua) has a horned snake!”
“Gasp! The snake is doing a somersault!”
“The *Hwa-wang* (Fire King)! The Fire King is trying to ride the snake!”
The murmuring noise of the crowd gradually faded as the procession moved away.
And on a hill where no one else ventured, a boy sitting on a tree stump watched everything unfold and suddenly spoke.
“We’ve come a long way.”
“Indeed, it’s been tough.”
The old disciple, who collapsed onto the grass with a rough breath, mumbled as he sat.
“…We’ve really come a long way.” He wasn’t talking about distance. Moon Kyung was reflecting on the years that had passed.
“Do you remember the first time we met?”
“How could I forget?”
The old disciple wiped the sweat from his forehead, as if the scorching sun of that day was still beating down on him.
“It was the summer of the first year of *Hongmu* (The Hongwu Era). It was an unusually hot year.”
It was the year when the civil war over the throne had ended and a new emperor ascended.
The young and ambitious emperor changed the era name and sought reforms, but the people, exhausted from the long civil war, were too weary to support his reforms.
“Rebellions broke out all over the land, and bandits ran rampant.”
“Droughts hit, and locust swarms swept through the plains. The corpses of government troops and rebels alike were everywhere, and plagues spread unchecked.”
“Yes, it was truly a time of chaos.”
Death gave birth to more death, and it consumed the continent.
The young carpenter with the surname Dong was not spared from the shadow cast over the world.
“I still think about that time occasionally.”
It wasn’t just the landscape that had changed over the decades. The young carpenter, who had lost his beloved wife and two sons to the plague, had now become an old physician.
“I sometimes wonder if I could have saved my family if I had found my master just a little sooner.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Yes.”
The old physician, sitting on a hill close to the sky, looked at the drifting clouds with the eyes of the young carpenter he once was.
“For as long as I live.”
It was just a day’s difference.
When the carpenter, stricken with the plague, brought an unknown elderly physician from a nearby slash-and-burn village, it was already too late.
He cried for a whole day and dug graves to bury his family. Then, he made a single request to the physician he had brought.
“Please bury me with them.”
Moon Kyung answered in a gruff voice.
“So I slapped your cheek.”
“It hurt a lot. To the point where I wanted to die.”
It hurt, not because of the pain of death, but because he could no longer see his beloved wife and children.
“But my master pulled me up.”
Moon Kyung shook his head.
“I only offered you my hand. You were the one who chose to stand.”
“I had to live. I had something I needed to do.”
The carpenter was a man who should have died from the plague.
But the physician used a medicine unlike any he had ever seen to cure him, and the carpenter realized for the first time that the natural course of life and death decreed by the heavens could be altered by a mere human.
“I can still clearly see it. The image of you kneeling and asking to be taken as a disciple.”
“What I remember is different. I recall my master beckoning me to follow.”
Having lost his family, the young carpenter found a new purpose, and the old physician, who wandered the world caring for the weak and poor, gained a new disciple.
It was only much later that the carpenter-turned-physician, Dong Bong (Dong Bong), learned his master’s true identity.
“Killing Star… It’s truly a terrifying epithet. It was the first time my master felt unfamiliar to me.”
Moon Kyung gazed out into the distance with a detached look.
He was about to ask something he had never asked his disciple before.
“Why didn’t you leave?”
“Did you think I would leave you, Master?”
“I have taken countless lives. I was nothing more than a wretched killer who hid his past. I would have understood if you had left.”
“Maybe I would have. But I knew too well what kind of person my master was.”
Then, in a low voice, he continued.
“Divine Doctor. My master is known as the Divine Doctor. You are not someone who kills without reason.”
Moon Kyung’s eyes trembled. That was something he had never told anyone and had never wanted anyone to acknowledge.
He had lived as an assassin, taking countless lives regardless of whether they were from the righteous, evil, or demonic sects. And every one of those he killed had a reason to die.
A righteous hero, known for his integrity, had a hobby of killing women. A master from the evil sects massacred entire villages for fun.
If the demonic sects, who invaded the central plains, had not slaughtered and destroyed everything in their path, and if the greatest assassin in the world had not stepped forward to kill the infamous demonic leaders, he would not have been called the Killing Star.
“If I hadn’t fought against the demonic sects, the world would have condemned me, just as they always have.”
The title Killing Star was both a pardon granted by the righteous sects that now ruled the world and a tribute to his strength.
Even though Moon Kyung had always been Moon Kyung, people never knew, nor wanted to know, the truth behind his actions.
“Why didn’t you reveal the truth?”
“Everything is in the past. I left the Murim world and became a physician, as I intended. And I will continue to do so.”
Moon Kyung slowly stood up. The long procession that had left the Sichuan Tang Clan had already disappeared into the distance.
“Let’s go down. There are patients waiting for us.”
As he spoke in his dry voice and took a step forward, the old disciple spoke.
“A great war will soon break out.”
Moon Kyung’s steps came to a halt. The old disciple’s voice continued from behind him.
“It will be just like that time. Many will die and be injured. There will be countless people who lose their parents and children, and screams and death will be unending.”
“…We’ll be very busy. I should prepare.”
“You know what I’m asking of you, don’t you, Master?”
“I don’t want to know.”
“Master.”
“I am a physician. Even though I once broke my promise and was forced to kill, I will never make that mistake again.”
Moon Kyung spoke slowly.
“Fighting is their job, and treating patients is ours. My heart left the Murim world long ago.”
“Then why haven’t you let go of your martial arts?”
Moon Kyung was at a loss for words.
It was a question he had pondered for a long time. If he hated killing and wanted to leave the Murim world, he should have abandoned his martial arts as well, the very means for killing.
But instead, his martial arts had only advanced further. It was proof that he hadn’t completely let go of his attachment to martial arts.
‘Why is that?’
His thoughts were interrupted by the voice of his old disciple.
“My master can treat hundreds and thousands of patients. At the same time, you can save tens of thousands of lives.”
“Please prevent this war as the Divine Doctor, not as the Killing Star. I will stay here and take care of the patients.”
Moon Kyung suddenly looked up at the sky.
It was clear and blue. Just seven days ago, the sky over the Sichuan Tang Clan had been filled with dark clouds and blood.
“The sky is clear.”
With a stoic voice, he resumed his steps forward.
“I need to go tend to the patients. Take your time coming down.”
As he descended the hill, Dong Bong’s voice lingered behind him.
“The ship leaves at the Hour of the Dog from the west port of Chengdu.” [1]
“It’s pointless. The Murim world is not where I belong.”
But as the old disciple watched his master’s slowly retreating figure, a faint smile appeared on his lips.
“Please… stay well.”
*Whoosh*.
A breeze from somewhere passed between the two men.
“What are you staring at?”
At Hyeok Mu-jin’s question, I turned away from the crowd gathered around the port.
“It’s nothing. Just being cautious.”
“Cautious about what?”
“Why are you prying so much? Just accept it if I say it’s nothing.”
Hyeok Mu-jin grinned meaningfully at my answer.
“I actually know why you’re acting like this, Captain.”
I paused. How did he know? Even Cheongpung hadn’t heard the conversation between me and the Divine Doctor.
‘Since when was this kid so perceptive?’
As I was wondering, he leaned in and whispered.
“Were you looking at that lady standing fourth from the right in the front row?”
“She’s definitely pretty. Looks like she’s from a well-off family. If you give me the word, as your right-hand man, I’ll go and set up a private meeting with her…”
“Mu-jin.”
“Yes? Oh, are you more into natural encounters? If that’s the case…”
“Do you want to sleep with the fishes at the bottom of the Yangtze?”
“S-Sorry?”
“Shut up and stay put. And don’t throw up later, saying you’re seasick.”
“…Yes, sir.”
Hyeok Mu-jin shrank back quietly, while Gung Ki-bang snickered.
“What an idiot. It’s not the fourth from the right, but the third from the left. She’s clearly prettier. Your eyes must be messed up.”
“Do you want me to mess up your eyes?”
“…Sorry.”
“Let’s live like decent human beings, okay?”
I sighed and shook my head before scanning the crowd one last time.
Both women were indeed beautiful, but the one Gung Ki-bang pointed out was more my type… No, that’s not the point.
‘Damn it, now I keep looking because these idiots brought it up.’
As I was thinking that, a large, bronze-skinned man approached me.
“Hey, junior. I mean, Jin Sohyeop, no, great hero…”
What’s with the buffering?
I offered a solution to Boatman Mu-song, who kept switching my title as if frying beans over a lightning bolt.
“Just call me junior.”
“Ahem. Is that really okay?”
“Why wouldn’t it be? You did it just fine before.”
“But, well, you’ve done such a great thing…”
I guess that’s true. I’ve gone from being a regional rising star known as the Sleeping Dragon of Shanxi to a nationally famous figure.
“And it seems that Great Hero Jeok doesn’t really like me…”
“Don’t worry about it. He just doesn’t like water in general.”
Mu-song glanced over at Jeok Cheon-Gang, who was glaring with a scowl on his face.
Next to him, Jin Wi-kyung was examining some kind of bamboo scroll, while Cheongpung was teaching Mi-mi a new trick.
“Mi-mi, ride the wave!”
*Whoosh, whoosh!*
…Is that a water snake?
Mu-song, momentarily distracted by the rare sight, spoke hesitantly.
“Anyway, everything is ready for departure. When should we set sail?”
“What’s the time?”
“We’ve passed the Hour of the Dog. It would be best to leave before it gets any darker.”
“…I see.”
“Are you waiting for someone else?”
I thought for a moment before shaking my head.
“No, there’s no one else.”
“Then we can depart.”
“Let’s do that.”
“Understood.”
As Mu-song raised his hand, the crew, who had already finished all preparations, moved in unison.
Just as the people gathered to send us off began waving their hands, a voice called out.
“Wait, wait a moment!”
“Stop, stop!”
The prow of the fast ship, which had just started pulling away from the dock, shook slightly.
I noticed a young boy pushing through the crowd in the distance and smiled.
“Let’s take one more passenger with us.”
***
Footnotes:
[1] The Hour of the Dog, which refers to the time between 7:00 PM and 9:00 PM in traditional East Asian timekeeping.
