Chapter 152: The Road to Kaifeng

"This might sting a little?"

"Shouldn't it be that if you were some famous doctor or a divine physician, I wouldn't even know you put the needle in? Don't they stick needles in chickens and make them walk around or something?"

"The Nine Needles of Joy? Wow, you know about that? But it shouldn't be painless. What am I, an assassin?"

And then, a sharp sting on the shoulder. Followed by a stiiing. Then a stiiiiing.

"Is this right? It hurts for quite a while."

"Huh? Why isn't the needle going in?"

Humanity's strongest physique wouldn't even permit a needle.

Tang Nanah, looking flustered, pressed down hard on the needle.

"Seriously, are your muscles made of stone? Why, won't, this, go, in—eek."

"Hey, that hurts. Ow! I said it hurts."

"Just bear with it a bit. Eek."

Normally, when applying acupuncture, one holds the needle shaft between the thumb and middle finger, gently pressing and twisting it to the correct depth. Sometimes, for tense spots, one gently taps it in with the index finger.

However, the needle only pressed resiliently against the skin, failing to pierce through. Grunting with effort, Tang Nanah finally readjusted her grip on the long needle.

She pointed the tip downwards, wrapped her entire fist around the shaft, and firmly capped the end with her thumb.

Anyone watching would think she was holding a dagger or an ice pick, not a needle.

"Hey, aren't you going to withdraw your protective energy? Why are you blocking the needle with that?"

"Oh, wait, I didn't do it on purpose—okay, now it’s—Aaack!"

Along with a rather intense pain, thwump!

The sensation of the needle burying itself into her shoulder was vivid.

"Oops."

That was the flustered voice of the doctor.

Whether it was a medical procedure or surgery, it was the kind of sound that haunted patients like a terrible nightmare.

"...I think I just heard a sound a physician should absolutely never make."

"No, no. You didn't."

"Did I mishear? Oh, whoa, this is weird. Feels like the pain vanished instantly?"

"Huh? Really? That shouldn't happen?"

"...Excuse me? Doctor?"

"No, it's just... because I stabbed it deep. Try moving your fingers a bit?"

"Huh? Hmm, they're not moving? This is normal, right?"

"They'll move by morning. Probably. Still, since it's completely paralyzed, the needles should go in fine now. Alright, little sting."

Press, preeess.

Along with the sensation of intense pressure, Tang Nanah let out a resentful voice.

"Damn it, it’s still not going in..."

Qing silently thought to herself.

I really should have gotten scientifically proven Western medical treatment instead of relying on these traditional medicine quacks.

It's the regret of a lifetime that there are no Western doctors here, seriously.

However, there was another fact Qing didn't know.

Western medicine of this era focused more on fundamental cures than solving individual symptoms.

What is the source of pain?

The brain! Excise the brain!

What is the source of disease?

The rectum! Excise the rectum! Your back! Let's see your back! [^(References "Deungjjak! Deungjjageul boja!", an infamous line from a poorly drawn Korean adult manhwa that became an absurdist internet meme, used here for satirical, anachronistic humor.)]

It might sound like nonsense.

But behold.

Westerners suffered greatly from toothaches. Therefore, the esteemed physicians of the nobility practiced preventative medicine by pulling out all teeth before they could ache, even applying this to revered royalty.

What? Disinfection? Washing tools and hands?

Isn't that something only crazy germaphobes with mental illnesses do!

Wait, what? Mental illness? The brain! Excise the brain!

For reference, the development of Western medicine in this era went something like this:

Doctors would compare the visions they saw in their dreams, choose the one advocated by the loudest person, and record it as knowledge.

The very concept was different.

Traditional Eastern medicine aimed to heal the sick, and a physician who failed had to brace themselves for being stoned.

But Western medicine was more like an attempt to save someone who was going to die anyway.

If successful, great. If not, the person was doomed from the start, so the doctor wasn't at fault.

If a patient happened to survive, it was hailed as the discovery of a new treatment method, adding another gruesome tool to the arsenal.

So, Qing should have been grateful to Tang Nanah, but—

"Oops."

"What now?"

"No, don't worry. Your arm should probably be movable by lunchtime tomorrow... maybe?"

Qing thought again.

Her only redeeming quality was being a traditional doctor.

Now it looks like she has no redeeming qualities left.

Breakfast for people of the Central Plains tends to be simple.

If that was the rule, Qing was perfectly willing to renounce being one of them.

"Here, uh, dip it thoroughly. Ahh."

Qing accepted the dumpling Gyeon Pohee offered like a baby bird, nibbling it down.

Even simple vegetables stir-fried in Hong Shao sauce tasted wonderfully spicy and tangy when wrapped in a torn dumpling.

What can I do? My arm won't move.

Strictly speaking, it was less due to the injury and more because of Tang Nanah's overly forceful acupuncture, relying purely on strength.

From Tang Nanah's perspective, she might argue, "What else could I do if the needle wouldn't go in?"

Qing could have used chopsticks with her left hand.

But in a relaxed meal setting with no competitors, there was no reason to go to such lengths.

Instead, the competition was among those feeding her.

As soon as Qing swallowed, Tang Nanah thrust forward a large chopstick-full.

"Wait, take out the eggplant, take it out."

"What, you don't eat eggplant? Picky eating isn't good for you."

"I only like it fried. Besides, I'm already fully grown. What part of me is going to grow more by eating balanced meals? Hey. You. Again. Where are you looking?"

"No, you just said grown, so..."

As they were doing this, Zhuge Ihyeon was staring as if entranced.

His gaze was different from Tang Nanah's, so Qing's reaction was different too.

"What is it, Ihyeon-ie? First time seeing someone eat a lot? Am I fascinating? I haven't even eaten half yet?"

"If you ask if it's fascinating, well, it is. But Sister, your arm seems uncomfortable. May I ask how that happened?"

"Huh? Oh, no. I got acupuncture wrong in the middle of the night and got paralyzed."

Replying "no" to an open-ended question was Qing's way of avoiding saying, I messed up my arm properly while teasing your little sister.

She hadn't lied, anyway.

"Ugh. Th-That's why I'm feeding you. Seriously, what's wrong with you? I was just trying to be considerate...!"

"I appreciate the thought. Hmm, should I get another treatment?"

"I'm a bit more used to it now, so..."

That didn't sound very reliable.

But as Tang Nanah said, she was trying to be helpful, and although it resulted in paralysis, the effect was apparently correct, so whatever.

Since it was advisable to reach the next city, Xiaogan, by evening, they left the Zhuge Clan estate promptly after breakfast.

With Zhuge Xiang clinging tightly to her leg, Qing briefly considered staying another day to play.

"Unni, when are you coming back? Are you coming to get me?"

Qing let out a chuckle.

Kids were like that anyway—they give affection easily and forget just as easily.

Being cute and doted on was all fleeting.

When they grow up, boys become disgusting, and girls turn calculating; honestly, there's no real benefit in getting close to brats.

Qing gave a vague answer, patting her head.

"Sure. I'll come get you when you become prettier."

"Hehe, I'll be waiting, Unni."

She'll forget an adult she took one walk with when she was seven in a few days and probably ask who I am later, Qing thought.

The journey in the Zhuge Clan carriage was incredibly comfortable.

While not quite as good as the Demonic Cult’s ebony carriage, it was an invention of the Zhuge Clan, experts in mechanisms that provided comparable ride quality.

Besides, there was no chance of pointless squabbles.

Far from squabbles, people miraculously parted ways before the carriage clearly marked with the Zhuge insignia.

Traveling comfortably like this, they continued north, eventually entering Henan Province and reaching Xinyang.

Xinyang was a city with a large lake situated roughly to its west, and this lake was Nanyang Lake.

However, Nanyang was the name of a neighboring town quite a distance to the west.

"Do you know why the lake in Xinyang is named Nanyang Lake? To explain that, I must start from the time of the State of Xin during the Warring States Period. At that time, you see..."

Zhuge Ihyeon suddenly launched into an automatic explanation.

Since no one had actually asked, it was quite a peculiar occurrence.

"...And thus, it was later divided into Nanyang and Xinyang. Ah, speaking of Nanyang, it's where my ancestor Zhuge Liang spent his childhood, so I can't help but feel a special connection. Also, in the past, Liu Xuande served as magistrate there and sought out ancestor Zhuge Liang three times—the tale of the Three Visits originated right here in Nanyang..."

The topic naturally shifted to Nanyang, likely because he wanted to talk about Zhuge Liang.

Well, how could he resist boasting about his family's greatest ancestor?

However, Nanyang was the next town over; this was Xinyang.

Soon after the Zhuge Clan carriage entered the city, a group of martial artists rushed forward—a commendable competition among the local Orthodox Murim martial halls wanting to host them.

Qing spotted a familiar face among them.

"Ah. So this is that place?"

No wonder it looked familiar.

"Isn't that Young Lord Wang of the Daijing Sect?"

It was Wang Sonseok, the heir of the Daijing Sect.

Wang Sonseok recognized Qing as well.

Qing's face was veiled, which paradoxically made her more recognizable due to her other distinct physical features.

If her face had been uncovered, he might not have recognized her.

"Ah! Miss Ximen! Have you been well?"

"I've been..."

Qing paused mid-reply.

How cold and harsh was that winter after picking up the Bokshinjeok here and going back?

And then those Demonic Cult bastards were complete sons of bitches.

Thinking about it again really pissed her off. Maybe I should summon the Heavenly Demon later and blow off some steam by smashing things.

"Miss?"

"I've been getting by, I guess. Can't even pretend I've been well..."

Wang Sonseok broke into a cold sweat.

It was a difficult remark to respond to, so he could only change the subject.

"Uh, ah! You must be on your way to participate in the Murim conference? Oh, and this esteemed young warrior here is the renowned Beastly Sage—"

Wang Sonseok's words abruptly stopped.

Stopping right at "Beastly Sage" made it sound like he was about to say "body of a beast!", but it wasn't intentional.

It was all because of Tang Nanah.

While Qing's treatment might be poor, wasn't Tang Nanah a proud member of the Five Flowers of Murim, the Poisonous Speaking Flower?

Only members of the Zhuge Clan, with their unique aesthetic standards, would say "How beautiful" and continue their exercises; normally, this reaction—striking a man speechless—was standard.

"What is it, Qing-ah, do you know him?"

"I was briefly indebted... or was I? Come to think of it, weren't the people from the Daijing Sect indebted to me? What do you think?"

"Th-That's correct. Our Daijing Sect owes Miss Ximen a great debt. But this truly beautiful lady is..."

It could have been a somewhat rude remark, but honestly, Wang Sonseok barely registered what Qing was saying.

Wasn't there a radiant beauty right before him?

"I'm Tang Nanah."

"Poisonous Speaking Flower!"

Watching the scene unfold, Qing thought.

Seeing that makes me want a moniker too.

Just saying the name automatically triggers exclamations.

Actually, Qing did have a moniker.

It just wasn't widely known.

She had the grand moniker of Divine Sword of Crescent Moon.

Bestowed by none other than the Mount Hua Sect Leader, Yuha Jinin!

Not Crescent Moon Sword, but Divine Crescent Moon Sword.

A ‘Divine Sword’ for a young girl who would soon insist she was officially twenty.

It was such a grandiose moniker that everyone would scoff at it.

In fact, that was why it hadn't spread.

People assumed the Mount Hua Sect Leader had gone senile, or perhaps he was kowtowing to the Rabid Bitch and shamelessly gilded a young girl without regard for his own dignity.

Because they didn't truly believe it, it didn't spread.

That's what happened when a moniker was too grand.