Doctor’s Rebirth - Chapter 713

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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 713
There was no helping it.
Perhaps Gae Pa Josa was simply being himself by insisting on calling it “ruling the realm.”
‘The Hyeonwon Jeondan Singeong ultimately begins with acknowledging that there is far more one doesn’t know than what one does.’
The Jegallim Family didn’t survive by anything other than strategy, after all.
The stronger one’s pride, the harder the wall becomes to overcome.
And my Master had crossed that wall.
“….”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Oh, I’m just curious. Master, how did you overcome that wall?”
At Jin Cheon-hee’s words, Jegalling chuckled softly.
“Who knows. I’m said to have been born without a pulse, and I’m certainly among the finest martial artists the family has produced, but I’ve never experienced blindness like you have. Though there was a period when things were rather… irritating.”
An eye disease, perhaps.
‘So the wall of martial arts was an eye disease.’
Jin Cheon-hee stared in disbelief, and my Master smiled softly.
“Originally, even reaching that point was no easy wall to overcome. And I already knew back then that I didn’t know much. Ignorance had seeped into my bones, reaching the very marrow.”
“….”
My Master said no more after that, falling silent.
Jin Cheon-hee felt as though he might suffocate under the weight of those words.
I don’t know when he achieved his breakthrough.
But it was certain that my Master hadn’t known how to treat his own affliction.
Some enlightenments bordered on despair.
Sometimes there were things one could only see by rolling in the dirt and witnessing hell itself.
Hope.
In the world of closed eyes, Jin Cheon-hee witnessed chaos.
To say “witnessed” is inaccurate. It was a realm that could only be understood by not seeing.
A realm one could only face after abandoning everything and letting it all go.
Within that realm where human perception touches only the tiniest fraction.
How futile was knowledge itself.
One had to understand that despair to move forward.
“Gae Pa Josa seems like quite an unusual person.”
My Master closed his eyes and smiled.
“Indeed. That much is true.”
If Jegalling had witnessed the despair that Jin Cheon-hee had tasted.
Then surely Jegalling had also witnessed the hope that Jin Cheon-hee had tasted.
“Well then, since your eyes have returned, what will you do now?”
Jin Cheon-hee smiles.
“Please don’t congratulate me? Don’t you dare have musicians play celebratory music or anything like that.”
“What a shame that is.”
My Master is the greatest eccentric in all of Gangho.
I couldn’t help but shudder imagining what kind of grand celebration this would become.
“So what do you intend to do?”
“Live as I always have.”
“Hmm?”
I scratched my cheek.
“I’ve come to understand something. Whether my eyes see or not, I am still myself. And gaining sight doesn’t change who I am.”
“So you’ll live as you always have?”
“Master, I’d like to offer dumplings to you and Yoo Ho, who’ve worked so hard.”
I spoke playfully and walked forward with steady steps.
Jegalling found his disciple’s response so absurd that he laughed.
‘Truly like Ilgwang.’
This fellow had gained the same enlightenment yet shared nothing of himself with me.
Perhaps that’s why.
Even if I were to live another life, I found myself wanting to take this one as my disciple again.
* * *
I served dumplings to Master and Yoo Ho.
It was the first thing I did after opening my eyes.
‘I could cook even with my eyes closed, but that was only possible because Yoo Ho prepared everything beforehand.’
This time, I made everything from start to finish myself.
And I didn’t forget to prepare the Cheonilchwi.
“Shall I warm it?”
“You know already.”
“Of course.”
I warmed the Cheonilchwi with the heat source and offered it to Master.
Yoo Ho instead handed his over chilled.
Sip—
“Cheonilchwi with dumplings as a side isn’t half bad.”
That was his way of saying it was good.
A subtle fragrance settled over the rich, savory broth of the dumplings.
“What will you do now?”
“I’ll send dumplings to everyone, from the Four Great Lords to the Patriarch.”
“Curious how the beginning and end are the same.”
“I enjoy symmetry.”
“Yet the dumplings then and the dumplings now taste different.”
“My palate has become more refined.”
Jegalling nodded with satisfaction.
Achievement always revealed itself in the mundane moments of daily life.
Especially with his disciple.
He was always one to prioritize saving lives over martial prowess.
Cooking in particular brought him joy—it saved people, and a small mistake wouldn’t cost anyone their life.
Jegalling eventually rose to his feet, his massive frame unfolding.
“Huh? Master?”
“I think I’d like to help too, Hope.”
“Ugh… No, it’s fine!”
“Do you think you can feed everyone from the Medical Guild by yourself?”
Admittedly, with Master joining in, it did feel more reassuring. But even so, I was grumbling about whether this was really okay when Yoo Ho grew exasperated.
“What? If you two work, am I supposed to just sit around?”
“Chief Manager Yoo, you will sit around!”
“…”
Master didn’t say I would sit around. He simply gave Yoo Ho a brief glance.
“Tsk.”
Yoo Ho eventually clicked his tongue and walked toward the kitchen with us.
And so the three of us spent the entire day making dumplings, and the Medical Guild held a small celebration.
Just as I had said, there was no festive music, no guests, and none of Master’s reluctance to go out.
Yet everyone was satisfied, and it was a day none of us would forget.
The fifteenth day of the month—a day when the moon hung round as a dumpling in the sky.
* * *
Daily life returned once more.
I taught Ga-won, oversaw the construction site, and continued my own martial training.
On top of that, I performed emergency surgeries and taught techniques to the senior and middle-aged physicians.
But that wasn’t all.
There was still much of Central Plains medicine that I didn’t know, so I studied various subjects alongside my other duties.
I was involved in medicinal development at the Research Hall, and occasionally visited Yoo Ho to serve him Cheonilchwi, raw meat, and the recently created dumplings made exclusively for him.
Once a week, I bathed in hot springs with Master while making sounds like “Ahh, so refreshing,” only to be asked—not quite a question—why I used the word refreshing for something hot.
I also handled accounting work alongside Muyue.
I checked administrative matters of Baek Rin County with Hyeon Seung-cheong and inspected the preparation process for five trial Jegallim Family dumpling inns (tentative name) being established throughout the county.
My days truly spun in chaotic, bewildering circles.
And so several months flew by in the blink of an eye.
Before I knew it, the opening day of the inn had arrived.
And.
I had prepared an opening event for the inn’s grand debut.
“Hope.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Must we really hold such an event?”
“Of course! Without an event like this, we can’t compete!”
This was the same person who had achieved great martial mastery yet asked me not to hold a celebration for him.
As a martial artist, he had accomplished something that might come once in a lifetime, and with that achievement, he had only made dumplings.
And now he wanted to hold an opening celebration for this dumpling inn!
“I see. An ‘event.’ It seems you could compete well enough without such things… You aimed for Cheonha Dongmi, but doesn’t your taste already differ from other inns from the start?”
Jegalling.
He despised people.
Jegalling wasn’t merely indifferent—he held a contempt for humanity that rivaled his disdain for insects.
While his troubled childhood contributed to this disposition, his very constitution played an equal role.
The Nine Yin Absolute Veins were a curse, yet they granted the talent to govern all under heaven.
This extended especially to his sensory perception.
From birth, he could discern every fragrance surrounding him—such was the nature of one bearing the Nine Yin Absolute Veins.
Given such a constitution, even dining became an ordeal for Jegalling.
Unless the food came from his disciple or a truly renowned housekeeper, he found it utterly tasteless and inedible!
He would openly insult those who prepared such fare, declaring he’d rather consume grain-avoidance pills than suffer through such fare.
Yet despite this, I dragged Jegalling into countless absurdities.
-Master! This is the most popular inn in our region! What do you think?
I took him to an inn and asked him to evaluate the food I’d purchased.
As for myself, I possessed an unsophisticated palate—everything tasted delicious to me.
Thanks to this, Jegalling experienced a world he’d never known existed.
What? Such food exists in this world? It tastes absolutely dreadful.
Unbelievable! People actually eat this? It’s so tasteless!
Remarkable! One can consume this without falling ill? Perhaps humans are more resilient than I thought?
When my disciple brought these wretched dishes to his master, claiming they were delicious, Jegalling would….
“Very well. Let’s see what garbage you’ve brought this time.”
He ate while scorning the cook.
It was his way of saying: if this single dish could save my disciple from dying in the mud with a severed limb, then I would consume it.
Yet his evaluations showed no mercy.
And he left the innkeeper and cook’s stomachs in tatters.
It was manageable.
Whenever it seemed too harsh, I would restrain my master, and then treat the housekeeper so she wouldn’t cough blood and collapse from the stress.
“….”
Through this process, Jegalling reached a conclusion.
My disciple’s dumpling inn, which he claimed was the finest delicacy under heaven, was at least among the top ten—perhaps even the top hundred finest tastes in the world.
Therefore, such elaborate and ostentatious events (or as my disciple called them, “promotions”) were unnecessary.
After all, the food was delicious! And the prices were reasonable!
Wouldn’t it suffice to simply give Hao-mun some money and spread word that this place served fine cuisine?
Why on earth was he
perfecting his martial arts,
refusing his own celebration, and doing this instead?
‘I gave you every precious thing in my world.’
This mad disciple decorated a tiny inn with flowers while wearing the happiest expression imaginable.
‘Yes. As long as you’re happy…that’s enough.’
Jegalling too decided to accept his disciple after passing through the five stages of death.
“Master, it’s a lie that people will recognize truly good products on their own. Without luck and the help of others, even excellent food can be buried and forgotten. Isn’t that why the saying ‘seven parts luck, three parts skill’ exists?”
Seven parts luck, three parts skill.
The origin of this idiom traces back to ancient times, all the way to the Jade Emperor himself.
There was once a scholar who studied to pass the highest civil service examination, but he failed repeatedly until he died of old age.
After his death, consumed by such bitter resentment, he sought out the Jade Emperor directly and poured out his grievances.
For some reason, the underworld messenger serving King Yama brought this elderly man all the way before the Jade Emperor.
In modern terms, it’s like filing a complaint and actually getting to meet the chairman.
Upon hearing the scholar’s grievance, the Jade Emperor summoned the God of Justice and the God of Fate, and had them compete in a drinking contest. He then spoke thus.
-If the God of Justice drinks more, I shall acknowledge your anger. But if the God of Fate drinks more, you must accept resignation as the proper path.
You might think this is nonsense, but according to legend, that’s how it went.
In the end, the God of Justice drank three cups, while the God of Fate drank seven cups of wine.
“The world does not move according to human order alone, and even when unreasonable, it moves by the will of heaven. Yet even the seventy percent of unreasonable fate is still governed by the thirty percent of human reason. This is the principle of the world.”
This means that even with great skill, it accounts for only thirty percent of one’s role, while seventy percent of success depends on fate and circumstances beyond my control.
From the Chinese collection of strange tales, the ‘Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio’.
This is a story recorded therein.
‘Seven parts fate, three parts skill—but one must still work diligently. Why rely on heaven after creating such fine results?’
“But Hope.”
“Yes, Master.”
“This event you’re preparing—isn’t it already beyond the realm of fate?”

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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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