Doctor’s Rebirth - Chapter 159

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 159
After completing all preparations, I entered the operating room.
Eun Wang-ya finished the prescribed procedures before surgery, consumed the prepared herbal decoction, received acupuncture and point-pressing treatments, and fell asleep.
One thing remained—she still wore her mask on her face, but as long as I and Baek Rin were present, no one would dare touch it.
The Medical Assistants each executed their assigned positions flawlessly.
Watching the disinfection proceed smoothly before the incision, I marveled at the sight.
‘They were all so clumsy back then.’
Memories of the first surgery at Baekrin Uigak surfaced, and I couldn’t help but smile.
When treating Gak-yeon, everyone had been anxious.
Uncertainty plagued them because they couldn’t even verify if what they knew was correct.
This was like Earth. A patient doesn’t wait because a doctor is unprepared.
Whether the doctor is inexperienced or not, patients still arrive on stretchers.
Those fledglings from back then had grown into full-fledged physicians of Buseol Hall.
Filled with pride, I spoke.
“Excellent—you’ve all found your rhythm now.”
I stood before the patient with enviable confidence.
“As you know, this surgery isn’t particularly difficult in terms of complexity. However, the problem lies in potential variables. And there’s the matter of the patient’s stomach and intestines already being damaged from the start.”
Since the poisoning attempt, the weakened stomach and intestines had become inflamed repeatedly.
Medicine and acupuncture had managed to suppress it somewhat, but I couldn’t guarantee complete resolution.
“Well, humans do what humans can do. The rest we entrust to heaven.”
Humans are not gods, yet we possess two legs to move forward.
Today, I chose to use these legs to do what humans must do.
With that, I made the incision across the King’s abdomen.
“Opening the abdomen.”
* * *
I located the mass immediately.
Cancerous tumors had taken root in the left descending colon.
A situation where malignant and benign growths coexisted.
‘She must have suffered tremendously all this time.’
It was difficult to even fathom how much pain Eun Wang-ya had endured.
I steeled my resolve and moved to the next assessment.
‘The most troubling issue is that I can’t determine whether it has invaded the lymph nodes at this stage.’
Visual confirmation alone was impossible.
Even the tiniest malignant mass, no larger than a pencil point, would spread elsewhere and take root again, growing anew.
Like fungal spores.
Suddenly, I recalled the time when I performed marginal resection on Pungju-ha’s leg and used heat to locate the inflammation.
‘Perhaps I could detect malignant tumors using a similar method…?’
Since direct contact with the mass was necessary, it was only possible during surgery, but if I could determine how many there were on the spot, wouldn’t that be helpful?
‘This would have been impossible in the old days.’
Even just last year, it would have been unthinkable. But with my current level of extreme refinement, wouldn’t such minute detection become possible?
‘Detecting inflammation is one thing, but this is a different level of difficulty altogether….’
I immediately extended my hand and sent my qi.
A mass requires manual technique.
Manual technique is actually more difficult to use in situations like this than fire technique.
But the target was a dense lump without a capsule.
I sent water-based qi and attempted to take the pulse.
“….”
My Master wondered what was happening and watched me work, but asked nothing, observing how I proceeded.
He knew I wasn’t the type of disciple to act without reason.
Soon I withdrew my hand.
‘It’s spread slightly into the ascending colon, but there doesn’t appear to be distant metastasis? It looks like T1 to 2 stage.’
T stands for Tumor.
In simple terms, it’s a favorable prognosis in the early to mid-stage one or two range.
Since this was my first time attempting this, I couldn’t be certain.
Later, if I conducted experiments on pigs or cattle, I would be able to know precisely.
However, the sensation I felt through the pulse-taking was similar to what I experienced during margin resection.
The water-based qi had pierced through the peritoneum, moved along the mass, and stopped at one particular point.
“You’ve realized something.”
“I can’t be certain.”
“You look pleased.”
“If my realization is correct, the patient can live longer.”
I spoke after withdrawing my hand.
“Left hemicolectomy.”
It’s a method of resecting and reattaching the colon in an L-shape.
Malignant tumors are different from benign ones. You must cut as widely as possible.
All the Medical Assistants focused intently, watching me and Jegalling.
‘I heard that the reverse type is incurable, but they’re saying it can be done?’
The series of processes—cutting, cleaning, and resuturing.
Preserving the continuity of the intestine was the top priority, and even if the intestine was resected, I had to help the patient continue living.
Following my movements, Jegalling continuously adjusted his assistance.
While maintaining the needle technique, he continuously handed me what I needed.
“Would you like to try the suturing this time, Master?”
“Hmm. To be honest, I think my suturing is better than yours.”
I laughed softly at Jegalling’s jest.
“Of course. You’re my Master, after all.”
With that, we both focused once more.
* * *
The Emperor was dreaming.
It was a dream of his mother passing away.
Pung Ha-eun and Pung Ha-geum.
One controlled actions through words, while the other read and manipulated memories through touch.
After their abilities were revealed, every imperial prince, princess, and their maternal relatives did everything in their power to kill them both.
What would happen if either of them ascended to the throne?
My mother grasped Ha-eun’s hand.
“From this moment forward, the imperial prince is dead alongside me.”
The Mother spoke, spitting black blood.
“Pung Ha-eun drank poison with me and died. Do you understand?”
“Mother…”
“Eun. Say no more.”
Pungju-ha was not present in that place.
She was waging a life-or-death war in a distant land—a conspiracy that unfolded while the God of War was away.
“So one of you must escape. If you hide inside my coffin, leaving this vast imperial palace will not be difficult.”
With those words, as my mother’s breath faded to its last, she spent her final strength to overturn the candelabra.
The oil-soaked bedding spread rapidly in flames.
The brothers cried out.
Pung Ha-eun seized his brother. His entire body was covered in bruises and scratches.
One of them had to leave the imperial city.
There was only one coffin, and for both to escape was impossible, even for a mother.
Someone had to protect this coffin so it could leave the imperial city.
Ha-eun and Ha-geum—who would go?
The two looked at each other.
The decision did not take long.
The mother’s coffin belonged to the mother.
The burned corpse that the mother had prepared in advance could be either Ha-eun or Ha-geum.
The two decided to become each other.
Create a perfect alibi.
While one engaged in political intrigue, the other would commit assassination.
At least one of us must survive to the end and stop this.
The flames consumed everything, and the twins’ rationality burned away with it.
But that alone was not enough. One more person was needed.
Three people can create a tiger that never existed.
When three conspire together, they can conjure even what does not exist.
With only their combined strength, it was difficult to erase even an existing person.
In that deep quagmire where right and wrong cannot be discerned.
Someone had to be able to control the two of them.
Then, hearing of the Mother’s death, Pungju-ha rushed back urgently.
And when the sibling she thought dead appeared alive, she wept and threw her fists.
Fortunately, she had controlled her strength—he did not die. Though the pain was enough to kill.
Pungju-ha was the only one in this mad imperial palace who remained sane.
She was also the only member of the imperial family whose abilities did not work on her.
It wasn’t difficult to persuade a sane person to commit madness.
With the deceased’s final wishes, their will, and the suffocating bonds of blood kinship, even a sound mind could be transformed into a fool’s.
What the twins wagered was their lives.
A solemn oath that if either displeased the other, they would slit their throat and take their place.
Three people were completed in this manner.
Now it was time to forge a tiger.
* * *
The dream receded further into the past, ever deeper into memory.
The distant past.
When the Former Emperor still lived and the three children had not yet awakened to their powers.
Pung Ha-eun had never desired to become Emperor. The same was true for Pung Ha-geum.
Unlike their boisterous sister, the two of them loved reading books and watching the falling rain.
When they were together, there was nothing they lacked.
On days when sudden showers fell, they would sit in a room where wind chimes sang prettily, their backs against the wall, reading books.
The subject matter never mattered.
Mother ate peaches.
After eating, her face would redden and she would struggle to breathe, yet others kept feeding her peaches.
They weren’t poison—merely ordinary peaches—so there was no breach of propriety.
The foolish servants simply kept bringing them.
Why did the servants love peaches so much? They even put them in dumplings, and despite strict beatings, it never stopped.
‘That is the nature of the imperial palace.’
Mother said this while stroking the twins’ heads.
‘If I gain power, would the servants’ memories improve?’
‘Power doesn’t mean physical strength. It means the power to draw people and shape them. Yes, if that were to happen, the servants’ memories would surely improve.’
At that time, the Former Emperor still lived, and the three children had not yet awakened to their powers.
Pung Ha-eun and Pung Ha-geum desperately wished to leave this imperial palace.
Whenever the two children felt melancholy, they would read books about the martial world.
They appeared free.
They seemed capable of crossing mountains and rivers in a single stride, pursuing what they believed to be right without hesitation.
Imperial bloodline abilities and martial arts were entirely different things.
Both possessed formidable power, yet one was inherited through blood, while the other was determined by effort and aptitude.
Both required a measure of fortune.
Yet it was incomprehensible why they took such different forms.
Ha-eun spoke.
‘Someday we’ll leave the imperial city and go to the martial world.’
‘What about the bloodline ability?’
‘We might never awaken to it. Then we could live like ordinary people.’
At that age, we believed such innocent things.
‘Later, we’ll sneak into the imperial palace and chop down every peach tree.’
‘Ah. That sounds wonderful. Let’s slice them all to pieces with the Igieo Sword.’
‘Everyone’s going to lose their minds, aren’t they?’
‘Yeah. They’ll go crazy. Then it doesn’t matter if Sibee’s memory keeps getting worse. There are no peaches anyway.’
The twins despised peaches.
If asked to choose a fruit that should disappear from this world, they would undoubtedly select the peach.
A powerless mother was simply that.
The sound of rain filled the room.
The occasional chime of wind bells brought peace to their hearts.
The two twins continued reading their books.
Knowledge was delicious. Whatever kind of knowledge it was.
Reading indiscriminately allowed them to forget reality.
Children who escaped through books pondered on that rainy island how they might eliminate peaches.
Back then, they believed it would continue for a lifetime.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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