Doctor’s Rebirth - Chapter 167

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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 167
Jin Cheon-hee smiled brightly.
“I’ll go and bring back something delicious.”
At my disciple’s words, Jegalling’s expression softened slightly.
“I’m pleased, but this master worries.”
Jiangsu Province, where Baek Rin’s Medical Guild was located, and Hubei Province, where the Mudang Sect resided, at least had the advantage of being closer than other regions.
Hubei Province came right after Anhui Province, and one could travel by the Yangtze River.
‘Master worries far too much about his disciple. I understand, but…’
Jegalling was the sort to fret over a mere journey from Anhui to Hubei as if it were crossing the entire Central Continent.
‘There’s a secret manual hidden behind the statue of the Primordial Celestial Worthy.’
The Mudang Sect, where Cheonwoo was, had one secret manual concealed within it. For an outsider like me to retrieve it, I would need to be extremely cautious.
If the opportunity arose, I would take it, but there was no need to force matters.
I prepared myself thoroughly after a long time.
Dressed in pale green silk robes with two spirit beasts accompanying me and a medicine pouch slung across my back.
The attire was similar to before, yet carried a different momentum and atmosphere—an elegance that made hearts race.
I secured the remains of the Elder of the Mudang Sect and also took the secret manual of the Dual Thought Technique.
And I filled my medicine pouch with Baek Rin’s Divine Elixir and Baek Rin’s Stone Oil.
‘Since I’m going anyway, I’ll treat some people and advertise our new medicine.’
Penicillin excelled at treating secondary infections from trauma.
Once people tasted its efficacy, no other divine elixir would satisfy them.
‘Now, let’s make some money!’
I stepped through the main gate of Baek Rin’s Medical Guild with a light stride.
The attending physicians saw me off.
“Patriarch! Safe travels!”
“Please return safely!”
“We’ll miss you already.”
It was the hopeful song of slaves sending off a demon.
I paused a few steps down and said this.
“Everyone, don’t grow lax just because I’m leaving. You must continue as you have been. Understood?”
“Don’t worry, Patriarch!”
“Just trust us!”
….
Look at the bright eyes of the attending physicians.
For three seconds, I debated whether to turn back—remains and all. But I couldn’t delay any longer.
‘That’s right. Trust me. Trust Yoo Ho.’
Though Yoo Ho hadn’t even come to see me off, I called out his name with deep confidence.
Yoo Ho wasn’t the type to be unaware that if the culture chamber fell into chaos, everything would need to start from scratch.
My own workload would increase the most, but Yoo Ho’s would be the second to increase.
Of course, he would endure the hellish torture of external cultivation advancement every night again, but that didn’t mean the burden on both of us would lighten.
‘Yoo Ho. I trust you.’
If we had merely been friends, I might not have trusted him.
Rather, the hellish hatred we bore for each other was far more reliable.
It was genuine trust, forged daily through grueling overwork and curses.
‘That’s right. Even if Yoo Ho lost his mind and tried to strangle me, he’d never abandon the cultivation chamber.’
I broke into a bright smile.
“Understood. I’ll be on my way.”
The doctors of Busuldang escorted me until I completely disappeared from sight. The moment I vanished entirely, they wept and embraced one another.
The demon had departed.
The long-awaited vacation had begun.
* * *
I boarded a boat at the Yangtze River without delay.
During my journey, I received several important intelligence letters from Samjeolchuho.
Along with these, I also received minor intelligence from Samsalchuseosam, an inferior version of Samjeolchuho.
‘The Hyeolseonggyo has grown quiet.’
Since then, Samjeolchuho had been continuously tracking the Hyeolseonggyo.
Now that she knew her younger brother was alive, nothing could stop her.
The fact that even she couldn’t find the Hyeolseonggyo meant they had gone into deep hiding.
‘At least they’re not conducting rituals with commoners right now, which is fortunate….’
But it also meant tracking them would be extraordinarily difficult.
I sent a reply telling her to conserve her strength since this would be a long endeavor, and to never forget to practice Taichi daily.
She was someone who had even resorted to demonic cultivation to save her brother.
I didn’t want to see such a Samjeolchuho abandon the world so futilely to heart demon tribulation.
‘Meanwhile, the Samsalchuseosam Brothers have paid off all their debts.’
Remarkable news. They had finally paid off what seemed like endless gambling debts.
In the middle of it all, Samseong nearly relapsed into gambling addiction several times, but they handled it the martial way.
Which meant they beat him senseless.
There was no modern gambling addiction treatment program in this era, and in the martial world, madmen were typically beaten first and questioned later.
The letter read as follows:
‘Still, thanks to Iseong, Bidao, and myself showing restraint, all four limbs remain intact.’
Translated into modern language, that meant they beat him right up to the point of permanent disability.
“….”
I hesitated on how to respond, then wrote that I was glad Samseong was no longer gambling. I also mentioned that if he came to Baek Rin Medical Guild, Gungwi Elder would provide work.
After all, Gungwi Elder himself came from a vagrant background, so he would understand the nature of heterodox sect members well.
We were perpetually short-handed anyway, and I thought we could make good use of four vagrants.
After handling these matters, the boat arrived in Wuhan, Hubei Province.
Upon arriving at the Wuhan harbor, I entrusted the letters to a nearby escort agency and proceeded directly to Wudang Mountain.
Woof! Squeak squeak!
Hwang-gu and Noeji grew excited as they emerged outside.
Especially once we began climbing the mountain, it was natural for spiritual creatures to feel joy.
Wudang Mountain.
A place where seventy-two peaks and twenty-six rocky mountains stood.
Stone steps led to the summit, but they were so high and steep that most people couldn’t even reach halfway before collapsing.
To ascend this mountain within half a day, one had to be either quite familiar with mountains, a Hermit, or a martial artist.
‘Is this the heart of the orthodox sect?’
My heart raced.
In martial arts novels, the Mudang Sect always established itself as a colossal mountain.
Depending on the story, they sometimes upheld Taoist discipline, shunned worldly pleasures, practiced vegetarianism, and cultivated the Way with sincerity and clarity. Conversely, some portrayals showed them as sinister, scheming to harm rival sects.
But one thing was certain regardless.
Their martial techniques were rooted in the Tai Chi principle and were extraordinarily formidable.
In that sense, the Mudang Sect was an indispensable towering peak in martial arts fiction.
‘I’ve come to the Mudang Sect! I’m actually here at the Mudang Sect!’
If I’d had a phone, I would have taken a photograph and preserved it for life—but being a modern person in this world was bittersweet.
I ascended the steps lightly.
The Baek Rin Medical Guild had its own staircase, but it was nothing compared to the Mudang Mountain steps. Yet even so, I felt no fatigue.
After climbing for some time, a massive ancient tree came into view.
Beneath it stood the Mudang Gate.
A gate as grand as the ancient tree itself loomed before me.
The Gatekeeper guarding it spoke.
“This is the Sword-Relinquishing Ground! You must surrender all weapons.”
The Sword-Relinquishing Ground.
In simple terms, it was where one disarmed and entrusted one’s weapons.
The Mudang Sect did not refuse guests.
However, if one respected the Mudang Sect, one could not enter beyond this point bearing weapons without permission.
“Understood.”
My profile as I answered was composed beyond measure. Yet my heart continued to race wildly.
‘Oh, I’m actually disarming my sword at the Sword-Relinquishing Ground! At the Mudang Sect! At the Sword-Relinquishing Ground!’
My martial arts fan enthusiasm was bursting forth.
In typical martial arts novels, trouble erupts at this very Sword-Relinquishing Ground.
What is a sword to a martial artist? Is it not their very life?
In some stories, certain villainous demons would cry out, ‘How dare you attempt to seize my sword! Let me see you try to take it by force!’ before laughing maniacally and striking with devastating force.
Thus conflict breaks out at the Sword-Relinquishing Ground, senior disciples appear, then protectors and elders emerge, and finally the sect leader arrives for a grand confrontation!
‘Of course, I came here to retrieve remains.’
As a modern person and a born Doctor, I was a pacifist.
I appreciated such scenes only as fiction—in reality, I had no desire to witness or participate in martial artists huddled together stabbing blades into each other’s bellies.
Frankly, in modern terms, it would be equivalent to breaking into someone’s home armed with a sword.
I set aside my martial arts enthusiast sensibilities and handed over the Icy Crystal Sword without hesitation.
“Here it is.”
“Th-thank you!”
The Gatekeeper, meanwhile, was flustered.
‘What kind of martial artist hands over their sword so readily without the slightest reluctance?’
Martial artists are fundamentally beings for whom the sword is their life.
It was only natural that a solemn atmosphere lingered whenever someone unsheathed their blade before the Gatekeeper.
Each time, the Gatekeeper’s heart would tighten with tension.
This fair-faced young man, however, showed little hesitation.
‘Moreover, dressed as a wanderer of the jianghu with a massive dog and an enormous hawk…’
I’d heard of it somewhere, but hearing only rumors made the memory slip away.
It was only when I glimpsed the embroidered insignia of Baek Rin Medical Guild on his shoulder that it suddenly came to me.
“Could you be… Seo Baek-ryong? Doctor Seo Baek-ryong?”
At those words, I showed no alarm.
Such was the manner of one accustomed to attention.
Instead, I lowered my eyelids and smiled softly, responding thus:
“How kind of you to recognize me. I hardly know what to do with myself.”
“No, no! Please, allow me to show you to the reception hall!”
Thus guided by the Gatekeeper, I arrived at the reception hall.
A Taoist Priest of the Mudang Sect who had been guarding the tea room stepped forward.
“Forgive my intrusion, but what brings you to visit the Mudang Sect, young master?”
At this sight, I immediately understood.
‘Ah. So the Gatekeeper conducts the initial screening, and those in the tea room ascertain the visitor’s purpose before assigning them to an appropriate location. Efficient. It suggests they receive many visitors.’
The Mudang Sect was certainly a Taoist order, yet simultaneously a martial faction.
That meant they required funds to operate as a martial sect.
Wooden practice dummies for the disciples to strike cost money, training swords cost money, real blades cost money, and martial robes cost money.
Should they provide medicinal tonics, that too demanded coin.
Naturally, they would have extensive dealings with merchant guilds and escort services.
I assessed the Mudang Sect’s circumstances with a modern sensibility.
‘It resembles the depiction from Supreme Heavenly Demon.’
I was fortunate that the knowledge I’d gleaned from novels differed little from reality.
‘Which means the Mudang Sect’s interior is indeed quite rotten.’
In martial novels, the finest measure of a sect’s morality is which faction the protagonist belongs to.
Combat is inseparable from martial fiction, and isn’t it more satisfying to drive a blade into a villainous warrior’s belly than to watch a righteous martial artist get beaten down?
The protagonist of Supreme Heavenly Demon is Yeo Ha-ryun.
In other words, the Demonic Sect.
For the Demonic Sect to shatter the righteous sects’ pride, those righteous sects must have some rot in their foundations—otherwise readers wouldn’t find it entertaining.
If the Mudang Sect truly followed Taoist principles, helping suffering commoners, practicing vegetarianism, and even tearing their robes today to treat a poor child—if our Heavenly Demon arrived and said, ‘Kahahaha, I shall soon be supreme under heaven!’ before stabbing such a grandfather’s belly…
The top comment would surely be: ‘The protagonist is such a coward. I’m dropping this.’
In this Confucian society, they say a king who doesn’t act like a king is not a king—but they never said to stab a poor Taoist grandfather who helps children.
It was the sort of thing that could breed a hundred thousand detractors.
So having the righteous sects be slightly rotten allows readers to say, ‘Ah, now that’s refreshing.’

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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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