The Physician of Traditional Medicine Returns from Murim

Murim. The society of those skilled in martial arts.

In that world, there were many who had transcended humanity, dedicating everything to martial arts.

And the number of ordinary people dreaming of the path of a martial artist was countless.

‘People who mindlessly lifted rocks even with their supraspinatus muscle more than half torn.’

The supraspinatus, located above the scapular spine, is the most easily torn of the four rotator cuff muscles that firmly hold the scapula and humerus together. If it tears completely, the arm becomes limp, and even a partial tear makes it difficult to lift or support the arm.

Martial artists who had properly built their internal energy through qigong training could handle some overexertion. Those who had reached a certain level understood how to regulate their own energy, efficiently using their recovery ability to heal quickly even from minor injuries.

But for those who hadn’t reached that level, their bodies were no different from the people here.

Humans are the same everywhere.

That’s why I, born here, could learn martial arts and treat people with the medicine of this world.

There were physicians in the Murim too.

In every world, someone with exceptional curiosity wanted to dissect the human body and record it.

Scholars knew that the human body had bones, muscles, internal organs, ligaments, tendons, and blood vessels. They might not have known about tissues and cells without microscopes, but still.

Even very young children from prestigious martial arts sects knew this.

While they might not distinguish between ligaments and tendons, it was common sense that overusing the body leads to injury, and continued strain when injured can result in irreparable tears.

The problem was, there was no compulsory education there.

Those who repeatedly trained with martial arts manuals from the marketplace, treating them like secret texts.

– You need to rest now! I’m trying to treat you! Is it so hard to take a month off?

Those insanely diligent fellows would swing their swords a thousand times every day, even if their arms were about to fall off.

They wouldn’t listen to the physician right in front of them, yet they trusted those martial arts manuals of unknown authorship so much.

– Stretch out both arms. Make a fist, then lower your thumb. I’ll press down on your arms, try to resist.

– Aagh!

– You can’t even resist my strength now! Don’t you realize how serious this is?

I would demonstrate the severity through the empty can test, which easily confirms supraspinatus inflammation or tears, and draw the body structure on paper to explain.

– Here, this bone-like structure is the scapula, and what you’re feeling now is the scapular spine. The muscle extends from here to connect to the humerus, the upper arm bone, see? Now, try to lift your arm.

– Ugh, aagh…

– See how it barely lifts without support from your left arm? That’s because the muscle that supports it is torn.

Did they understand when I explained it like that?

– But the manual said to swing it ten thousand times every day without missing a single day. Flying Dragon Elder wouldn’t have given an impossible task!

Of course not.

– Just tie it up.

When I was wandering around pretending to be a physician, I had to earnestly persuade patients.

But after gaining some semblance of authority in the Tang family’s medical pavilion and learning martial arts, I solved it simply.

Communicating with patients as equals and explaining treatment plans? That’s just theoretical nonsense from textbooks.

Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap.

I completed the assignment, recalling my experiences treating countless shoulder patients. I didn’t forget to include detailed descriptions of the theoretical diagnoses, treatments, and management methods that I had initially attempted and failed with—the kind you’d find in textbooks.

“Okay~ Done!”

Once I organized the content in my head, it didn’t take long to complete the writing.

I proudly clicked the save button and immediately submitted it. Whether it was graded or presented, there would be no problem.

‘Should I go to the library now?’

I stayed in the classroom briefly after class to finish the assignment. The room was quiet as most of my classmates had gone home.

“You’re done already? That’s impressive.”

Hwang Sanghun, the only other person left in the classroom besides me, struck up a conversation.

“Yes. Are you working on the assignment too, oppa?”

Jo Haneul’s close friend and last semester’s second-place student.

“Yeah.”

“Seoyoung left early because it’s her grandfather’s birthday, but why are you here?”

He was also the grandson of the director of Hwangje Korean Medicine Hospital, which has the most famous network of Korean medicine hospitals in our country, and the cousin of Hwang Seoyoung, who had left early today for a family event.

He was two years older, having entered after his third attempt at the entrance exam.

This guy doesn’t pick fights like Jo Haneul, but… we weren’t particularly close anyway.

“It’s burdensome.”

“I see.”

I attempted small talk since he unusually spoke to me, but our conversation didn’t even last three exchanges.

“There’s quite a lot to organize.”

Hwang Sanghun scratched his head, looking down.

Unlike me, who had poured out the content in my head, he had spread out textbooks and printouts all over, working on the assignment.

‘Surely he’s not asking for help.’

Hmm, that can’t be it. We’re not that close.

“Yes, well, good luck…”

“You were cool.”

As I was about to leave the classroom, having nothing more to say, Hwang Sanghun suddenly said something strange.

“Pardon? What was?”

Could it be that he’s giving up his taciturn concept and trying to pick a fight like Jo Haneul?

“Your presentation, I mean. …I wish I had gone to China with you.”

“Ah…?”

What followed was even stranger.

What nonsense is this? Why would Hwang Sanghun go to China with me?

I was the one who sent cold emails directly to the Chinese medicine university and got permission from the professor for the internship, and they agreed to accept two people, so I took Hwang Seoyoung with me.

I even refused when our class representative asked to join us a little later, so what’s this about suddenly…

“Wait a second.”

My face contorted bizarrely, but Hwang Sanghun, who had suddenly bowed his head, didn’t see it.

He took out an L-shaped file from his bag and handed it to me.

“What’s this?”

There were several printouts inside the file.

“Since the professor changed, it might not be necessary, but the exam questions might be similar.”

He said something irrelevant, omitting the main point, but I quickly understood what it was after skimming through it.

Surprisingly, it was the answer key passed down through generations in the orchestra club.

‘Hmm.’

Occasionally, lazy professors who can’t be bothered to create new exam questions might repeat questions from previous years. New professors might also reference their predecessor’s questions.

But it didn’t seem likely that Professor Lee Minseok, who had completely changed the teaching style and prepared all new materials, would do that.

“Did you bring this out to give to me?”

From the circumstances, it seemed he had stayed late in the classroom, deliberately delaying his return home.

It looked like he had waited until I finished my assignment to speak to me.

“Why?”

I asked bluntly.

“I want to do the internship with you. …Don’t tell Haneul hyung.”

Ah…

‘Maybe they’re not as close as they appear?’

Come to think of it, just because people hang out together doesn’t mean they’re truly friends. Unlike Hwang Sanghun, who at least paid attention in class, Jo Haneul often skipped lectures… He might have built up resentment while handing over all the club materials and class notes.

They might be fine as drinking buddies, but he might not want him as a workplace colleague.

That’s probably the extent of his feelings.

But the fact that he went out of his way to give me this…

‘This feels oddly familiar.’

A wave of deja vu washed over me.

– Divine Physician, can’t I study the Complete Compendium of Acupuncture and Moxibustion with you?

I suddenly remembered.

The thirteenth young master of the Tang family!

He was a little boy who trained recklessly, unbecoming of a scion from a prestigious family.

In fact, reckless training methods were the specialty of aspiring martial artists from the streets.

Orthodox prestigious sects had quite systematic approaches, and warriors from unorthodox sects got their hands bloody before going through such diligent training.

That child, perhaps because he was an illegitimate son, couldn’t find a proper master and was an outcast within his family.

After I treated him, he admired me and wanted to study medicine, saying he’d never become the sect leader anyway.

– No, you can’t.

Although my master didn’t allow it. He said the boy had talent in martial arts and found him an unorthodox master, so it probably worked out well.

The moment I caught a glimpse of that same admiring gaze from Hwang Sanghun that I felt from that child…

Nah, it must be my imagination.

‘Why are they doing this after passing it around among themselves for years?’

The exam format and questions will definitely change.

Even if they remain the same, it’s meaningless since I’ve already memorized all the regular channel acupoints.

It might be Jo Haneul’s scheme to hand me an answer key that won’t actually help.

“I appreciate the thought, but I’d rather not risk getting caught.”

I politely declined and returned the L-shaped file to Hwang Sanghun.

◆◇◆◇◆

The next day.

“I’ve read all of your assignments. Everyone submitted without exception.”

Despite it being the first-period class, Professor Lee Minseok said he had checked the assignments of over a hundred students.

As expected, someone like him would have no trouble creating all new exam questions and then some.

“Hwang Sanghun and Sung Jieun. Please come forward.”

As soon as the class started, he called out two students.

Hwang Sanghun went up calmly, while our class representative went up tearing at her hair.

“I called you specially because you did the best assignments, excluding the two who presented yesterday.”

At those words, the class representative’s face brightened, then…

“Try inserting the needles.”

…immediately fell.

“Suddenly making us do practical work? This isn’t even practical class time.”

“So what?”

“Ugh, you’ll be fine, Yeowon.”

Hwang Seoyoung grumbled but hurriedly searched for the assignment she had submitted.

We always did practical work in the acupuncture practice room, but there was no particular reason we couldn’t do it in the classroom. With the professor watching and both needles and alcohol available, what’s the problem?

“Sung Jieun, you go first.”

“Yes.”

The implication was to insert needles into each other’s shoulders.

Hwang Sanghun unbuttoned a few buttons and exposed his left shoulder.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The class representative opened a needle pack and inserted needles as instructed.

Fengchi, Jianjing, Quyuan, Jianyu, Naoshu…

“Well done. Just put Jianyu a bit lower. Accurately identify the acromion.”

“Yes, sir.”

The professor checked the ten needles inserted in the shoulder and rotator cuff. She had placed the needles in the correct acupoints and received praise.

But the class representative’s expression was still uneasy.

“And? You’re not going to do distal acupuncture?”

“Um, can I check my assignment for a moment?”

Choosing which acupoints to use depending on the disease is called acupoint selection. It’s broadly divided into distal acupuncture and local acupuncture.

Local acupuncture typically involves choosing acupoints in or around the problematic muscle.

Distal acupuncture… is the concept of stimulating acupoints on the hands and feet to aid recovery even for shoulder pain, and there are various theories about it.

“You don’t remember what you wrote?”

Judging by her inability to answer, it didn’t seem like she had written an answer based on theory. Perhaps she had referred to a book or asked a senior student.

“I’m sorry.”

“This wasn’t an assignment to be submitted and forgotten. If you were only going to do local acupuncture, you should have written it that way. Shouldn’t you be able to actually perform the treatment?”

“…I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need to apologize. I expected most of you to be like this. You’re all just now checking your assignments, aren’t you?”

Hwang Seoyoung, who had been mumbling and memorizing her file from earlier, flinched.

“Review it now and do the practical immediately. Sung Jieun, you won’t forget after being pointed out like this, right?”

“Yes, thank you!”

Whew. This is quite Spartan.

My classmates began pairing up with the student next to them to start the practical.

“Some students copied directly from the textbook, and some scraped content from blogs. It doesn’t matter. There’s no single correct answer for acupuncture prescriptions. You can treat based on myology, use Sa-am acupuncture, or Dong’s acupuncture method—it’s up to you. But you should have your own prescription for major diseases.”

The professor walked around the classroom while lecturing.

As he was a young professor, students had expected a friendly and comfortable class, but with his grim expression and nagging no less than any old-fashioned professor, the students were on edge.

“Is this where you’re placing the needle for the subscapularis?”

“Yes… oh, is it the supraspinatus?”

“Are you going to ask patients like that in six months? Get it together!”

He pointed out mistakes and reprimanded students.

“Haneul, I received a call from Professor Jo. A simple greeting would have been enough.”

He also engaged in some small talk.

I had memorized everything I wrote in my assignment, so I had no difficulty inserting needles into Hwang Seoyoung.

“Hmm.”

The person who had been harshly criticizing students stood next to me with his arms crossed, silent.

‘What’s this? Why isn’t he saying anything?’

I wasn’t the type to make mistakes just because I was a little nervous, but I couldn’t help feeling anxious.

Professor Lee Minseok watched very closely as I worked, then spoke.

“What are you, student?”