Doctor’s Rebirth - Chapter 682

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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 682
The forty-ninth trial had already faded into insignificance—the final day was nearly upon us.
“All those challengers fled the moment they laid eyes on Cheonwoo’s fist technique.”
To this, I responded with my hands tucked into my sleeves.
“These are men who lacked the courage to challenge Master Gwon Je while he lived. Now that he’s passed, they come seeking to settle old debts, blaming their failures on the next generation—what bravery could such people possibly possess?”
“Ha ha ha, Sojakju, you show such compassion toward commoners, yet you’re merciless with those of the Gangho.”
“Well, I am a man of the Gangho myself. In such matters, one must be coldly rational.”
I was crafting elixirs alongside the Wudang Sect’s Chief Pharmacist.
Every school with deep historical roots possessed secret legendary pills.
The Wudang Sect was no exception.
The Soqing Pill and the Taeqing Pill were the most renowned of their secret treasures.
Scholars would say that while the Huashan School possessed the Zixiao Pill and Shaolin Temple the Sohwan Pill, the Wudang Sect had the Soqing Pill.
Outsiders sometimes added the character for “divine” to call it the Divine Soqing Pill, but above even that existed the Taeqing Pill—the supreme secret elixir.
However, the Taeqing Pill required materials that were nearly impossible to obtain, and its creation demanded running the alchemical furnace continuously for an entire year—a supreme treasure beyond measure.
The Soqing Pill, by comparison, required only ten days of furnace operation and materials that were relatively easier to procure, allowing for approximately one pill per month.
This was what I was creating alongside the Chief Pharmacist.
Of course, it was not a one-sided arrangement.
Consuming everything alone invites calamity.
Especially in the Gangho—those shameless enough to do such things deserve a blade through their heart in the future.
Thus, I shared the Baekrin Divine Pill’s formula—not penicillin, but the Baekrin Medical Guild’s legendary elixir technique—in exchange.
It was only proper.
If we exchanged our respective pill-forging methods, something superior would surely emerge. Yet even so, this was no simple task.
‘No matter that this follows the late Master Gwon Je’s wishes, by rights such knowledge should never have been transmitted to a mere lay disciple like myself.’
Master Gwon Je had given Cheonwoo all his true martial essence and inner force, while intending to leave me the formula for the Divine Soqing Pill.
The Sect Leader had initially opposed this, but through this martial tournament, he had reconsidered and decided to honor Master Gwon Je’s final wishes.
“Temperature control must be the most critical factor.”
“Indeed. Impatient swordsmen turn perfectly good medicinal herbs into waste.”
Having said this, he found the word “waste” so amusing that he chuckled for quite some time.
Watching him, I reflected.
‘The Swordsman certainly has an unusual sense of humor.’
In any case, the Wudang Sect’s Chief Pharmacist and I, the Baekrin Medical Guild’s Sojakju, got along remarkably well.
“Cultivation and elixir-making are the same. Both require time and patience. To use an analogy, these herbs are undergoing cultivation within this cauldron.”
“It will take quite some time before it reaches a boil.”
“Yes. The cold and hot currents circulate within, but even after boiling, it must not overflow. One must repeatedly reduce and increase the heat slowly.”
“The Tai Chi principle.”
“Precisely the Tai Chi principle.”
I nodded in agreement.
At that moment, a Wudang Sect hermit came rushing in.
“Master! Master!”
“What is it? Have I not instructed that the medicine hall must always maintain silence?”
At the words of the Jegallim Patriarch, the young disciple answered breathlessly.
“But the final challenger… The forty-ninth final challenger has arrived.”
“…?”
I opened my eyes wide.
The name that came from the child’s mouth was someone I could never have imagined.
* * *
A tranquil afternoon.
Bathed in the glow of sunset, a nun offered incense for the deceased.
“You pestered me so much for a single martial match, yet what was so urgent that you had to leave first?”
Gwon Je and the Sword Sovereign.
One cannot cover the sky with the palm of one’s hand.
By now, all of Gangho had come to know the outcome of the battle with the Namgung Family.
Though she had not sought recognition at the time, what truly mattered was what martial prowess she would display thereafter.
None would deny her the title of Sword Sovereign—she who wielded but a wooden sword and began cleaving mountains with mere intent alone.
Yet now, the Abbot felt the spirit of a Gangho master emerging for the first time in ages.
Old memories, faded recollections.
The ancient days of Gangho that few remained to remember.
Back then, she was young, and Gwon Je was young as well.
The two of them debated their respective paths through fist and blade.
The Abbot had come to the end of the path her old friend had reached.
Throughout her life, had she not crushed all obstacles that hindered her insatiable desire for martial mastery with those fists?
Could even that be transcended?
The Abbot watched the incense smoke rise.
The flame that burned quietly became smoke and drifted upward.
Observing that line, she recalled the teachings of Buddhism.
It was emptiness.
“Amitabha Buddha.”
Life was emptiness.
Yet perhaps, or rather because it was empty, she had rushed forward so relentlessly.
As the Abbot reminisced about the past, I could finally arrive.
Time seemed to stop around her. Even the incense smoke from the memorial tablet seemed to rise slowly before the Abbot.
-I have repaid the debt I owed to Gwon Je from before in this manner, and that is sufficient.
Words spoken long ago when teaching Cheonwoo.
At that time, I learned of念—intention.
-Buddhism teaches that even an ant, should it attain enlightenment, becomes a Buddha. Similarly, even a young child, should they reach the state of念, can cleave a cliff in two.
Neither Cheonwoo nor I yet understood the meaning of those words.
Yet time, merciless as it was, announced that the allotted time had expired.
Such was Gangho. Whether prepared or not, karma circles round and returns to be repaid.
The Abbot finally rose to her feet.
I bowed respectfully to her.
“Thank you for traveling such a long distance.”
“I apologize for arriving late.”
“It has been far too long.”
At those words, she lowered her gaze and nodded.
“Then shall we proceed to the reception room?”
The Abbot shook his head at Jin Cheon-hee, who spoke with forced brightness.
“No. You already know why this humble monk has come all this way.”
Jin Cheon-hee’s expression clouded with bewilderment.
The Abbot regarded him with compassionate eyes.
The Doctor before him was like that.
He affirmed life as emptiness, yet spoke of how emptiness allowed one to become anything.
Brilliant, yet sometimes he played the fool.
This was one of those moments.
When he clearly knew what would happen next, yet rolled his eyes and pretended ignorance to evade it.
No wonder Gwon Je had found him so endearing.
Soon after, she spoke with conviction.
“I wish to take my friend’s ancestral tablet back to his homeland.”
“Did Gwon Je have a hometown?”
“Yes. Despite appearances, he was the son of a distinguished scholarly family. He entered as a lay disciple but suddenly rejected marriage and threw himself into the Way.”
‘Gwon Je had such a past?!’
The other monks stared in astonishment. Only those of the same generation simply pressed their foreheads and shook their heads.
Truly, only those of that era could know such things.
“Or perhaps he would enjoy seeing the sea. If his spirit caught the sea breeze of the Bota Clan, even the deceased might rise up in the afterlife.”
‘Ah….’
The Abbot laughed softly like a young child as he spoke.
“I have come to repay my friend’s kindness.”
At this, Jin Cheon-hee asked.
“Could it be something Gwon Je requested of you before his passing?”
“Ho, to deduce even that—how remarkable. Most would rage and curse, saying gratitude was repaid with enmity. But he did not explain in detail. He merely….”
“….”
She released a small sigh.
Though her body was middle-aged, that sigh belonged to an elder.
“…He merely asked that a Warrior’s fist be broken by the sword.”
Cruel gentleman indeed.
All the monks clicked their tongues.
Myeonggil Jinin was such a person.
One who regarded humans as stone.
One who believed that only through constant chiseling could stone become a jewel.
Jin Cheon-hee spoke, cold sweat beading on his brow.
“…I may need to seal the temple gates for ten years.”
The forty-ninth memorial gathering where grace accumulated.
The final enemy was not the resentment that Gwon Je had built up.
It was grace.
The deep warmth the deceased had shared with a dear friend in life.
* * *
“We’re ruined. Master! Masteeer! What grudge could the Wudang Sect possibly have against them to bring out the Sword Emperor himself!”
Jang Mun-in the Hermit cried out in despair.
“Oh no, oh nooooo!”
I took Jang Mun-in’s pulse and inserted an acupuncture needle.
“Your body has already approached the threshold of a Heart Demon once. Excessive agitation is dangerous.”
“Do I look like I can avoid agitation right now? The saying goes that the more precious the child, the stricter the teaching. But bringing the Sword Emperor? That’s excessive.”
“Cheonwoo will receive great instruction. Hehehehe.”
“Soggakju. You’re from the Jegallim Family, so you must have some way to predict things. What are the odds that our Cheonwoo will win?”
“That is…”
I scratched my cheek and smiled wryly.
Someone who didn’t know me might have expected the Jegallim Family’s mysterious divination or prediction, but in a way, it looked like the smile of someone who had let go.
“It depends on how many moves the Abbot yields as the senior.”
“He’ll yield quite a lot… won’t he?”
“If he yields too much, then it wouldn’t be the situation Gwon Je desires, would it?”
At that moment, Jang Mun-in forgot his composure and cursed.
I thought it was better for Jang Mun-in to curse than to suppress his anger and fall into a Heart Demon.
After all, medicine could only help so much.
Once one crossed beyond the initial stage of a Heart Demon, even an immortal couldn’t cure it.
I could only hope it would end at the Heart Demon stage.
‘Wow, but Gwon Je really is something else.’
He’s essentially rolling a boulder off a cliff.
“Well, everyone predicted they would lose anyway.”
“That’s only natural.”
* * *
The next day.
The final day of the forty-ninth memorial gathering.
The sun rose above the Sword Examination Ground.
The midday sunlight was intense beyond measure, hot enough to heat the martial arena.
Three figures ascended onto the Sword Examination Ground’s martial arena.
-The Patron will serve as the arbiter to verify the match.
It was because of the Abbot’s request before the martial competition began.
Looking around the martial arena, I could see that while it wasn’t as packed as before, there were still quite a few people gathered.
Martial artists of the Wudang Sect.
And ordinary believers and Gangho warriors who had come to pay respects at Wudang Mountain.
The new greatest master of the Wudang Sect.
Yet because he was still young, I had come to see Cheonwoo, who was called Gwon Wang rather than Gwon Je.
No one had anticipated that the Forty-Ninth Martial Tournament, which everyone thought had concluded, would unfold in this manner.
“To witness the Sword Emperor’s blade—it was worth the wait until the very end.”
“It may be irregular for the Wudang Sect, but with the Sword Emperor as the opponent, it hardly seems shameful, does it?”
“The Abbot is truly indifferent. Whatever debt the Bota Clan owed, it seems they will lose the memorial tablet on the final day after all.”
No one predicted Cheonwoo’s victory.
They merely held hope in the prospect of witnessing the Sword Emperor’s blade.
Thus, leaving behind the spectators scattered sparsely throughout the arena, I turned to regard the Abbot, Cheonwoo, and the two martial masters.
He looked back at the two martial artists.
‘Ordinarily, as a witness, I should deliver some eloquent remarks.’
The successor of Gwon Je and the Sword Emperor.
Did such formalities truly serve a purpose for their match?
Whatever words I added would only diminish this duel that would be etched into the annals of Gangho history. Therefore.
“I wish for both of you to engage in this match with absolute integrity. The match begins!”
Having spoken only what was necessary, I stepped back.
At this, the spectators’ eyes gleamed with interest.
“Ilgwang speaks without lengthy words this time.”
“Ilgwang has deep ties with the Bota Clan as well. The Bota Clan’s swordmasters can tolerate many things, but they cannot abide insults toward their patriarch and Ilgwang.”
“I wonder where young Jegallim placed his wager.”
As the spectators discussed, the Abbot spoke first.
All eyes turned toward the Sword Emperor’s lips.

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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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