…So, what do I do about this?
Cho Yun pressed his hand against his smooth forehead. He doesn’t have a headache, but he has a lot on his mind so he couldn’t help but reach up to touch it again.
Laying before Cho Yun was a scrawny child with a pale face, fast asleep and breathing softly. In a perfectly kneeled position, Cho Yun was staring down at the child in silence for a while. He pressed his temples, tilting his head back towards the ceiling and looked up at the dusty beams of the old inn.
“What should I do with him…?”
The thoughts that had been consuming him all day finally slipped past his lips. Cho Yun, no, Jeong Ha-yoon, was about to lose his mind right now.
To put it simply, Jeong Ha-yoon was not from this world. He is an ordinary person living in 21st-century South Korea, with nothing more exciting in his life than reading genre novels or looking at cute animal photos.
He swore he never once wished to be reincarnated into the kind of wuxia novel he casually read before going to bed. And certainly not now, certainly not like this!
Cho Yun let out another long and frustrated sigh and gazed at the child. The child was sleeping as sound as death, not even stirring once in his sleep. Hesitantly, he reached out to touch the child’s forehead, then grabbed his small hand to check his pulse.
Then, he noticed the small, torn nails and took a sharp breath.
‘Doesn’t this hurt terribly? His hands are in such terrible bad shape… Wait, the legs too…’
He was so busy comforting the weeping child that he hadn’t noticed the injuries. The soot smeared on the skin and the sharp thorns embedded in it spoke volumes—this child had likely crawled through debris. The scene that the child must have witnessed before Cho Yun arrived made his heart clench in sympathy, and his brow furrowed.
It seemed as though Cho Yun made a decision, and he stood up from his spot, quickly donning his cloak. The hem of the cloak fell all the way down to his knees, hiding his white hair perfectly. It seemed a bit suspicious, but it was better than attracting unnecessary attention.
He stepped outside the room and called for the boy servant.
“Is someone there?”
“Yes, my lord.”
The young boy servant, who had been resting on a dining chair, ran over hurriedly. He had intended to say ‘Excuse me. Can you help me?’ but before he knew it, a tone that made him sound decades older slipped out. Still under the veil of his cloak, Cho Yun flinched when he heard his own words, visibly startled by the unfamiliar tone of his voice. Cho Yun said:
“Fetch me a set of clothes fitting for a seven-year-old and a bucket of clean water. Also, I need a brazier. Do you have one that can fit in the room? If not, I may need to borrow the kitchen’s fire.”
“We do have a brazier. Is it alright if I bring the one used for winter, my lord?”
“That’s fine. But if you bring it, you might get burned, hence I’ll bring the brazier myself. You just bring the clothes and the water to my room.”
“Yes, my lord.”
The boy bowed deeply, informed about where the brazier was and hurriedly ran off. Cho Yun glanced back at the sleeping child, then left the room.
In a shed behind the inn, there were enough braziers to match the number of rooms. Cho Yun picked one, washed it clean with well water, wiped it down with straw, and filled it with dry firewood before returning to the room. The brazier, made from melted iron, was surprisingly heavy. Cho Yun was fine with it, but he secretly felt relieved that he didn’t ask the young boy servant to carry it.
Upon returning to the room, he found the servant had already placed the clothes and water beside the bed. The moment Cho Yun entered and set down the brazier, the boy startled, noticing him entering and awkwardly stammered.
“I-I’m sorry for entering without permission, my lord. I thought if I left the clothes outside, they would get dirty…”
“You’ve done well. Thank you. What’s your name?”
“Yes, it’s… Il-do.”
“Alright, come and sit here for a moment.”
Cho Yun brought over a large herbal case from the corner of the room and sat down beside the bed. He then opened a small drawer inside the herbal case and pulled out a fine brush, thin paper, ink, and a wooden board.
“Normally, I would repay you with money, but I don’t have enough to do so. Instead, I will give you something that is needed here. Il-do, is this inn run by your family?”
“P-Pardon me? Y-Yes, it is.”
Il-do nodded absentmindedly. Cho Yun turned and glanced at him for a moment before starting to write with the fine brush on the paper placed on the wooden board.
“Is the pregnant woman working in the kitchen your mother?”
“Yes…”
Caught off guard, Il-do nodded. Cho Yun turned back to him, then continued to write on the paper, carefully detailing a prescription for the boy’s mother.
“She’s in her final stages and yet she has never stopped working. Has she been complaining of any abdominal pain? Did she mention the baby’s kicks were too strong or mentioned she’s experiencing any bleeding?”
“Pardon? Uh, She did mention feeling some abdominal pain and… bleeding. Should I bring her here?”
“No. Do not make a pregnant woman climb the stairs. I’ll give you some prescriptions. Go to a herbalist, not a physician. If there’s a fever, use a combination of silvery grass and root of the motherwort, along with raw rehmannia… I’ve written it all down on the list, the apothecary
Will prescribe accordingly. If she’s still experiencing blood loss after her body is warmed, let her take it again.”
Cho Yun finished writing down the prescription, then stamped it with a small seal and handed the paper to Il-do. The boy hurriedly accepted it with both hands, staring at the unfamiliar characters with wide eyes.
“Are you… a physician?”
“I’m just a guest who is causing nuisance brewing medicine in the inn. You may go now.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much, physician. Please call me if you ever need anything. I’ll be sure to serve you well. Thank you again.”
Il-do bowed repeatedly and ran out of the room, clutching the prescription tightly. Cho Yun stood still, watching him leave, before taking off his cloak.
Then, he opened the drawer of the herbal case and took out the necessary herbs one by one.
“What I need… ginseng, cinnamon, Szechuan lovage, rehmannia, angelica, peony root… I only have simple herbs. I’ll start with emergency treatment for now. Do they have ginger and dates? Should I get them from the kitchen?”
Cho Yun washed the herbs carefully and started a fire in the brazier. Watching the dry wood catch fire, he sighed deeply for what seemed like the hundredth time.
Yes, this was the problem.
Jeong Ha-yoon, originally an Education University graduate with no knowledge of medicine or pharmacology, had somehow become so adept at handling ancient Chinese herbs. This skill, however, came from the original owner of the body, “Cho Yun.”
— Cho Yun, a man who mastered the secrets of the Central City’s mountains and rivers, the intricate formation techniques of the *Haidong region , the deadly poison arts of the South, the vast seas of the East, and the ancient medical practices of *Tianzhu. His reputation had spread far and wide, but he lived alone in seclusion deep in the mountains, shunned from the world. Over time, whispers of his name spread, and he became known as the “Herb Immortal,” a passing name as fleeting as the wind and clouds.
*Haidong region (TL/N: Japan)
*Tianzhu (TL/N: Indian subcontinent)
Cho Yun, the Herb Immortal Cho Yun!
The very same Herb Immortal from <The Return of the Hero>!
And the child who had witnessed his family’s tragic demise after hiding for a week and emerging to witness such horror—he must be Ju Cheonoh!
The ultimate villain and final boss of <The Return of the Hero>—Yama King, Ju Cheonoh!
Ah, what am I supposed to do now?
Cho Yun plopped his head onto the bed where the child lay and screamed internally in frustration.
Yes, if his suspicions were right, Cho Yun had just unknowingly taken in the final boss of this world.
‘Well, actually, I kind of rescued him. But, I can’t just leave this child there, can I? What kind of person would abandon a kid who’s obviously going through a traumatic experience…?’
Trying to comfort himself by thinking he had rescued the child didn’t help lighten his mood. Even though he wanted to cry, Cho Yun’s body had already moved on its own. When the brazier reached the perfect temperature, he placed a small pot on top and began boiling the herbs.
Carefully, he removed the child’s clothes and began gently wiping down the frail body with a damp cloth. He paid special attention to the child’s badly injured shins and hands.
For a moment, Cho Yun’s gaze fell on the child’s ribcage and sunken cheeks. He stared at the child’s skeletal frame before letting out another deep sigh.
If things had gone exactly as they did in the original story, Ju Cheonoh… no, Seomun Cheonoh, the child has yet to receive his father’s surname —would be hiding in the dark underground, and come out of hiding after a week and witness such an awful scene.
