The Physician of Traditional Medicine Returns from Murim

How did it happen, you ask?

The truth is, last night I was transported to a world straight out of a wuxia novel, where I became the disciple of a master known as the Supreme Lord of Medicine and Poison.

There, I gained experience treating various patients—

But I couldn’t possibly tell the truth like that.

“You could do it too. I just used the basic digestive system acupoints we learned in school.”

The only option was to deflect.

“But the pulse!”

Of course, she wouldn’t let it go easily.

In fact, by graduation, almost no students can diagnose solely by pulse. Even in clinical settings, most Korean medicine doctors prioritize inquiry over pulse diagnosis, using it merely as a reference.

I, too, originally had no particular skill in pulse studies.

“You know how easily my roommate gets indigestion. I’ve felt her pulse a few times, so I kind of know what indigestion feels like. It was just similar.”

“You didn’t study it separately?”

“We’ve been together all day, when would I have had time?”

I shrugged a bit exaggeratedly. She seemed to half believe me, half doubt me.

“His complexion was exactly the same ghostly white as when she gets indigestion, and I’ve treated it a few times too.”

In truth, she had no choice but to believe me.

“Ah, excuse me.”

Just then, someone was approaching from the front, so I quickly changed the subject.

Hwang Seoyoung turned her head, following my gaze. It was the young flight attendant who had been running around earlier.

“That was really impressive. Thank you for your help.”

Unlike before, she bowed with a very professional smile.

In her hands, which had been genuinely worried about Kim Young-ho earlier, was a bottle of wine.

“This is just a small token of our appreciation. Please enjoy it until we arrive in Incheon.”

“Oh, is this from you?”

She smiled softly as if she had heard an amusing joke.

“It’s a gift from the co-pilot. You have no idea how relieved we all were that we almost turned the plane around for nothing.”

“Ah, I see.”

That made sense.

“Wow, thank you!”

Hwang Seoyoung, sitting on the aisle side, quickly accepted the wine.

“We’ll gladly accept it.”

I didn’t refuse either. Compared to the massive loss that would have occurred from diverting the flight, this wasn’t excessive.

Clink!

I clinked glasses with Hwang Seoyoung.

Maybe it was because I was drinking wine on a plane, the epitome of cutting-edge technology, after 20 years.

Or perhaps because it was a gift received for doing a good deed, but it tasted exceptionally sweet.

◆◇◆◇◆

A few hours later.

The plane landed safely at Incheon Airport.

After a small commotion where Kim Young-ho bowed deeply once more while we were retrieving our luggage, I immediately hailed a taxi.

“Hurray! Home sweet home!”

Korea, the place I had dreamed of even in my sleep.

As soon as I arrived at the dormitory, I ordered chicken.

‘I’ll check my bank balance tomorrow!’

For now, I ate all the food I had been craving. Then I turned on the computer.

The internet world was as vast and beautiful as it had been before I left.

My small room, which maintained perfect temperature and humidity, was nothing short of paradise.

I ate, slept, and played.

When I finally came to my senses… a week had passed.

◆◇◆◇◆

What’s this? Why am I sitting in school?

The first semester of the fourth year of the professional program. The class marking the start of the semester began.

“Did you study hard for the national exam during the break?”

The professor asked the students as soon as he entered the classroom.

Talking about exams right after the break ended, really, professor?

Studying for the national exam? Of course!

“To check your skills and give you a sense of urgency, I’ve prepared a simple test.”

“Boooo!”

…I’ve forgotten everything.

Twenty years, a whole twenty years.

Isn’t it strange that I remember what I was studying? It’s only because I’m so smart that I can read and write Korean properly!

“Before that, just a moment. Han Yeowon, please stand up.”

As I was grimacing and joining in the booing, the professor suddenly called my name.

“…Yes?”

Is he planning to ambush me with a question?

Despite all the extraordinary things I’ve been through, my heart still raced when my name was called during class.

“As you all know, Han Yeowon and Hwang Seoyoung went for an internship at a Chinese medicine university during this break. There was an emergency patient on their return flight.”

“Huh? No, it wasn’t exactly an emergency…”

“I heard she diagnosed and treated a patient with indigestion using her quick wit. Before the test, we can’t not hear this story, can we?”

“Yeeeees!”

The students, who didn’t want to take the test right away, responded enthusiastically.

I whipped my head towards Hwang Seoyoung.

Only one person had witnessed it, so how did it reach the professor’s ears?

I shot her a reproachful look, but she just winked at me.

I ended up being called to the front by the professor to present how the diagnosis and treatment had been carried out.

“Hmm, what would you have done if the pulse wasn’t clear? Abdominal muscle tension can also occur in myocardial infarction, you know.”

“Even so, I thought there was no harm in trying.”

The professor and a few classmates listened to the case with interest, while most others flipped through their books, barely paying attention to the presentation. It was understandable, given that a test had just been announced.

Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap. Clap.

As soon as I finished speaking, someone started applauding.

It was a male classmate I didn’t get along with particularly well. Following his lead, the halfhearted applause of my peers filled the classroom.

“…Thank you.”

An overwhelming sense of embarrassment washed over me. I held my forehead and bowed my head slightly.

“Let’s take a short break, then we’ll start the test.”

Rustle, rustle, rustle.

The moment the professor left the classroom, dozens of books were flipped open. They were probably skimming through last semester’s notes.

Not even remembering which subject this professor taught, I left the room without hesitation.

“Ugh, what’s with the test on the first day?”

“Still, thanks to you, we gained an hour. I’ve heard rumors that the materia medica is incredibly tough.”

TN: Materia medica (lit.: ‘medical material/substance’) is a Latin term from the history of pharmacy for the body of collected knowledge about the therapeutic properties of any substance used for healing (i.e., medications).

Hwang Seoyoung approached and spoke to me.

Ah, so it was herbal medicine and prescriptions?

It was the study of the characteristics and effects of medicinal herbs, and how to combine them to create Korean medicine prescriptions.

‘Instead of spreading the news about what happened on the plane, couldn’t you have told me about these rumors first?’

If I had known we’d have a test on the first day, I would have studied instead of playing games all week.

“Does this count towards our grades?”

I asked Hwang Seoyoung while gulping down cold water. My face was hot with embarrassment, making me feel parched.

“Of course it counts. Even the overflowing-with-confidence Dr. Han Yeowon is curious about such things?”

But the answer came from an unexpected place. It was the male student who had started clapping as soon as my presentation ended.

“Haneul oppa, why are you picking a fight as soon as you see us?”

Hwang Seoyoung said.

Hearing the name “Haneul oppa” brought back another long-buried memory.

Jo Haneul, 31 years old.

He was an older classmate who had entered Korean medicine school at a relatively late age, having graduated from another university and studied for the college entrance exam while serving in the military.

“Picking a fight? I was so impressed by your story. You might as well graduate right now.”

He said, crossing his arms.

Jo Haneul always found trivial things to nitpick about. I had no idea what bothered him so much.

Since he seemed to dislike me, I just disliked him back.

“Well, you know…”

“You got lucky this time, but what if it had really been a myocardial infarction? Were you trying to disgrace Korean medicine doctors and the school without even having a license?”

He wasn’t entirely wrong.

I had faintly sensed the stagnant energy in his digestive system even before checking his pulse, but if that hadn’t been the case, I probably wouldn’t have been 100% confident.

“Oh, but didn’t it bring honor to our school?”

Regardless, I grinned and responded to his provocation.

“That’s right. Didn’t you hear the professor praising her?”

It was no surprise that Hwang Seoyoung took my side, but Jo Haneul glared at me with eyes full of jealousy.

Does he have a thing for Seoyoung?

“…Think you’re a master physician now after treating one indigestion patient?”

“Please, call me the Divine Physician.”

I just shrugged my shoulders.

In the past, I would have fumed at his provocation, secretly envying his circumstances, but now, perhaps due to my added years of experience, I found it amusing.

‘Now that I look at it, it’s incredibly childish.’

There were many reasons for our poor relationship.

Except for competing for the top spot with the goal of hospital training, he was the opposite of me in every way.

First, I was one of the youngest, having entered at 20 as a regular student, while Jo Haneul was the oldest among our peers, six years my senior.

My hobby was playing games alone in my room, while he enjoyed going out with groups of classmates, frequently organizing drinking parties, and even inviting professors to treat them to expensive alcohol.

Ah, and while we both competed for the top three spots, unlike me who put my heart and soul into every exam, this guy maintained good grades while goofing off, thanks to his natural intelligence.

Above all, unlike me who had neither money nor connections, Jo Haneul’s father was a professor at another Korean medicine university, and his mother was the CEO of the Haneul Korean Medicine Clinic network, named after her beloved eldest son…

Ugh, the more I think about it, the more annoying it gets!

“If you’re done talking, why don’t you go study? Are you overflowing with confidence too, oppa?”

“Ah.”

I tried to wrap up the conversation, but Jo Haneul suddenly closed the distance between us.

He whispered to me at a distance where Hwang Seoyoung couldn’t hear.

“I’m just worried that someone without roots might tarnish the school’s name.”

Hmm… would I have fallen for such a low-level provocation?

I might have.

I wasn’t at all adept at dishing out or receiving snide remarks, and I secretly envied his intelligence.

Jo Haneul knew this fact very well.

“No roots? What do you mean by that?”

I deliberately spoke loudly.

Trembling alone and swallowing my anger was not something I could do anymore.

“That’s…”

It was obvious he was mocking the fact that I didn’t have parents, but now it didn’t faze me at all.

Jo Haneul was rather taken aback by this pattern that differed from the usual.

“…Well, your interpersonal relationships are narrow. After all, treating patients is about understanding people, right? People are the foundation, something like that…”

I narrowed my eyes at his nonsensical rambling.

“There’s no one who worries about my relationships as much as you do, oppa. After going to the continent and seeing the wider world, I realized that people are more important than just reading a few more pages of a book.”

I nodded, spouting whatever came to mind.

Hwang Seoyoung looked at us as if to say, “What on earth are you two babbling about?”

“So, with that realization, you’ve given up on being the top student?”

Jo Haneul said, placing his arm on my shoulder.

Even in the midst of this, Jo Haneul didn’t stop his provocations. Whether it was due to his age or a particular talent for mockery, I couldn’t tell.

“Well…”

“It’s good that you’ve realized your place, or rather, your position, even now.”

He had been somewhat mindful of Hwang Seoyoung earlier, but now he was openly trying to get under my skin.

Top student, always about being the top student.

Before I was dragged off to Murim, grades were my Achilles’ heel.

‘Back then, tuition felt like an enormous amount of money.’

In fact, it was because of the scholarship.

With both my parents essentially gone, I had graduated high school while living with relatives.

My relatives hadn’t exactly mistreated me… but after 20 years, let’s just say I had no desire to see them again.

Naturally, there was no one to pay my tuition.

‘Pride, what good was it?’

When asked why I studied so hard, I hated having to say that I desperately needed the academic scholarship.

So instead, I would say that I wanted to do my internship and residency at our university hospital after graduation.

The affiliated Korean medicine hospital of Korea University, my alma mater, was the most sought-after for internships nationwide and placed great importance on grades in their hiring process, so that explanation sounded quite plausible.

Of course, I did actually intend to receive training there if possible.

In my year, three of us—myself, Jo Haneul, and one other—were competing for those positions.

‘Right, up until now, that guy had been the top student.’

I vividly remembered the days when I was beside myself with frustration.

After bombing the final exams of the first semester of my fourth year, I had been pushed down to third place.

‘I can pay back the tuition eventually, and at this point, is the training even meaningful…’

But that’s beside the point.

I couldn’t stand the thought of losing to that guy.

If I were to say now that I’ve lost interest in the hospital, it would only look like I’m giving up and running away.

“As if. You don’t think I can catch up to a GPA that’s only a hair’s breadth apart?”

It seems he wants to compete, and I have no reason to avoid it.

The gap in our grades isn’t that big, so if I just do a little better this semester, that should be enough, right?

Even though I say I’ve forgotten everything, it’s September now, and the graduation exam is in November, so I have over two months to prepare.

It’s not like I’m being asked to win first place in the Latter-Day Disciples Martial Arts Tournament. It’s just a paper exam, after all.

When it comes to stamina, I’m second to none, not even Jo Haneul. All I need to do is study 16 hours a day.

“Oh, is that a declaration of war? Feeling confident, are we?”

Jo Haneul’s eyes widened as he perked up. With his personality, he probably didn’t secretly study all break—if anything, he was more likely to have spent it clubbing.

I just nodded. Provocation? I’ll take it on, why not.

“Of course.”

Jo Haneul dashed into the classroom as if he had been waiting for this moment.

“Hey, hey, Han Yeowon and I…”

Although our classmates were intently staring at their books in anticipation of the test, he flung open the front door, paying them no mind.

“Wow, since when did you become so good with words? I couldn’t even get a word in. But are you sure about this? Didn’t you always say ignoring him was the best strategy?”

Hwang Seoyoung worriedly grabbed my arm, but I wasn’t concerned at all.

What’s the worst that could happen? Just lose a bit more face? It’s not like we’re betting our lives.

“Hm?”

As someone caused a commotion at the front door, my classmates slowly raised their heads.

Curiosity glimmered in some eyes, while annoyance was evident on other faces.

Just as all that attention focused on Jo Haneul.

Ting-.

I flicked a coin into the classroom.

‘Ah, this is really annoying.’

What? No roots? Disgracing the school?

Why don’t you try being disgraced for once?

While I may not be a peerless master, I did learn a thing or two about handling the Tang Family Coins from my teacher.