Doctor’s Rebirth - Chapter 850

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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 850
Jin Cheon-hee pondered this.
‘Indeed, Earth and Gangho are fundamentally different places.’
The morality of this era was rather… peculiar.
Creating corpse puppets like Kang Si-gong was acceptable if made from one’s own family or purchased corpses.
As long as one didn’t kidnap commoners or commit abominable acts like human sacrifice, one was surprisingly considered righteous.
This was because there existed a legitimate function: returning those who died far from home to their hometowns for proper burial rites.
Moreover.
‘Eon Jeong-mu actually died, and we can hardly object to him being transformed into a corpse puppet.’
It wasn’t as though we forcibly killed a living Eon Jeong-mu to make him one.
With his consent, it was possible.
I couldn’t fathom why this was permissible in a Confucian society wielding swords, but just as the Sichuan Tang Family was righteous, so too was the Jin Ju-eonga Family.
Being righteous while accepting corpse donations from others’ families to create corpse puppets was routine, yet not creating them from one’s own children seemed… somewhat contradictory.
‘The perspective of Gangho people remains difficult to comprehend.’
A modern person found it challenging.
‘And in some martial arts novels, there are worldviews where one becomes a corpse puppet when reaching the pinnacle of Kang Si-gong mastery, so it’s entirely plausible.’
But there was one thing.
‘I cannot find even a trace of Eon Jeong-mu’s past arrogance and recklessness. Is this truly Eon Jeong-mu?’
Could a person’s fundamental personality change entirely, even upon mastering Kang Si-gong?
“….”
Having pondered this far, I retrieved incense from my room and lit a stick.
Then I brought out a fox figurine and placed it before the incense.
It was called a Yoo Ho Toyong.
With a face as ungainly as a potato, Sama Hyeon slightly furrowed his brow.
Cheonwoo asked.
“Hyeong, what is that?”
“Jasi said… this figurine contains encouragement (?), so you’re supposed to place it beside you while sleeping. I’m planning to set up a simple formation here and rest.”
“That works?”
“Yes. I learned the method of tapping into another family’s spiritual meridian from Master.”
“…Didn’t Hyeolrin Gwangssal set fires using that method?”
“That’s right. Master once suffered greatly from karmic debt. I’ll be setting up a parasitic formation instead. Since I can see the Jin Ju-eonga Family’s spiritual meridian…. It’s fine.”
Sama Hyeon spoke in exasperation.
“Wow…. That’s ruthless.”
In modern terms, it was like a guest bringing an electric heating pad and siphoning the homeowner’s electricity without permission.
It would be fine if mentioned beforehand, but plugging in and sleeping without a word would leave the owner feeling rather uncomfortable.
Moreover, this was less like a heating pad and more akin to a lock.
And homes in this era carried weight unlike those of the modern world.
A space where one’s father, grandmother, great-grandmother, and great-grandfather had lived—the place where one was born and would die.
The place where one’s spirit would be inherited.
Among all things, the spiritual meridian was something particularly sacred to martial families.
The spiritual vein passed down through generations of ancestors is the most important thing in a family and serves as its very foundation.
Through this land, the family grows, performs its first qi-absorption ritual, and raises its children.
This applies not only to families but to sects and Daoist schools as well.
Yet Jin Cheon-hee calmly prepared to insert a needle into the spiritual vein of the Jin Ju-eonga family.
‘Well then, shall we begin? Whoosh!’
Amid the chaos, Cheonwoo asked.
“Brother… I’m worried this might be disrespectful. Did your Master create this technique? Or was it made by Gae Pa Josa?”
Though he spoke respectfully, Cheonwoo was the type to say what needed to be said.
He was openly asking whether the problem lay with the Jegallim Family’s foundation or with Jegalling himself.
I replied.
“Our Gae Pa Josa said it’s fine! Yes! He said it’s okay!”
“…”
“And my Master refined it further! Yes!”
“…So you’re building a formation within a formation, Brother?”
“What? Is there a problem?”
“No, it seems fine to me, Brother. I’m okay with it. We need to survive first, after all.”
If we get caught, we’ll have a terrible fight later, but it’s not like anyone dies, so it’s not too bad.
Besides, Jegalling isn’t the type to hold a grudge over something like this, and I was never close to the Jin Ju-eonga family to begin with.
“Our Mudang Faction doesn’t like the Jin Ju-eonga family either. We sometimes clash with them over the funeral business.”
“…Look at Cheonwoo’s character~ This is what a swordsman is~”
“Still, Cheonwoo. If you get caught, just play dumb. Say you don’t know what your older brother did. It could cause trouble otherwise.”
Then I turned to Sama Hyeon.
“Hyeon-a. Do you object?”
“Gaga. I am of the Heterodox Faction. And I think Buddhist-style funerals are better~”
“Good. Thank you all for your warm consent.”
And so the siblings unfolded the formation.
“By the way, Brother. Wouldn’t it be better not to come if you’re going to do this?”
At Sama Hyeon’s words, I shook my head.
“Still, I was curious about Kang Si. If this ends up being just my suspicion, then a decent thesis will be completed. And if… if there’s something I’m worried about, then it’s right to uproot it.”
My eyes turned blue.
It was a color that emanated toxicity.
* * *
The next day.
The night had been quiet. No assassins came, and the kind villagers didn’t transform into monsters at night.
No martial arts, no sorcery—it was truly a peaceful day.
By the time a servant came to guide me to breakfast, I had already cleaned everything up and even ventilated the room so thoroughly that it was practically a perfect crime.
The Jin Ju-eonga family wasn’t quite at the level of the Namgung Family, where jade statues form part of the formation and children name the golden beast statue Namgung Geumsam.
But it still had a grand quality to it.
With funeral services and liquor production as their main businesses, all the roofs were black, and the walls were white—a traditional mansion that truly demonstrated what dignity meant.
From there, I headed to the dining hall to receive the distinguished guest.
An elegant pavilion came into view.
“Please enjoy your meal here.”
“…Wow.”
Beside the pavilion, a mirror-like pond also revealed itself.
As I walked forward with delight, I spotted an elderly man already seated in the pavilion, waiting for me.
Sama Hyeon spoke.
[That’s Kang Si-gong Eon-gwon. Brother, you know him too, right?]
[I know of him. I’ve seen him a few times through Martial Arts Alliance business.]
He was the Gaju of the Jin Ju-eonga, ranking among the top hundred masters of Gangho.
[Though his martial prowess is said to rival the Eight Kings among the top sixteen masters of Gangho, he never made it into their ranks. He was once known to be on par with the top ten, but new currents have emerged in the Yangtze, and lately he hasn’t displayed his martial power openly.]
He was one who had mastered the Jin Ju-eonga’s exclusive martial art—the Dream Soul Ghost Spirit Corpse Technique.
Sama Hyeon continued his explanation.
[So his body possesses diamond-like indestructibility, and the Ghost Spirit Palm he deploys with dream soul ghost spirit energy is said to be eerie and destructive. His reputation is high, but….]
The problem was that although his complexion was pallid and he certainly looked like a corpse, his eyes still gleamed with vitality and retained a spark of life.
‘Yesterday’s Eon Jeong-mu looked like a complete corpse.’
Eon-gwon cupped his fist in salute.
“Welcome, Jin Sogakju. It’s been a long time.”
“It’s an honor to see you again, Gaju. I trust you’ve been well?”
“I’ve been doing fine. And these two with you—they must be the Hao-mun’s Sub-Patriarch and the Mudang Faction’s number one martial artist, your sworn siblings.”
At those words, Sama Hyeon smiled broadly.
“Sama Hyeon, the Sub-Patriarch of Hao-mun and a late-stage master of the martial world, greets the Gaju of the Eonga.”
“A disciple of the Mudang Faction greets the Gaju of the Eonga.”
Eon-gwon shook his head.
“There’s no need for such formality. But I’m curious—why did you come with your two sworn siblings? The main family invited only you, Jin Sogakju….”
As expected, the question came about why I’d brought these extra people along.
I quickly recited my prepared explanation.
“My sworn siblings are currently in the midst of their training journey, so we’ve been traveling together. Is there perhaps some issue with that?”
“Hmm…. It could be an issue. It means your sworn siblings would also witness the main family’s secrets. Don’t you know that spying on another sect’s martial techniques is a grave crime?”
In other words, witnessing a new corpse technique was equivalent to stealing another sect’s martial arts. That’s what he was saying.
The Gaju stroked his beard.
The sight was like watching a corpse stroke its own beard.
Eon-gwon spoke.
“This is troublesome. Quite troublesome….”
“My sworn siblings need not participate in the experiments with the new corpse techniques, correct?”
Eon-gwon replied.
“Even so, information could leak through you. Hmm…. This is troublesome. Then I’ll need to adjust the terms somewhat.”
Eon-gwon’s concern was that I might disclose information about the corpse techniques to my two sworn siblings.
Both sides understood that saying something like “Don’t you trust me?” would be pointless.
“I’ll permit observation. In exchange, I’ll reduce your profit share in medicinal materials by five percent.”
This old man really is stingy.
It wasn’t that he forbade me from entering—rather, he calculated that trying to save money at this opportunity revealed he was no ordinary Gaju.
Unless the two of us were actually manufacturing a corpse puppet, there wouldn’t be much of substance to gain from mere observation.
He’d even considered that there was no way to prevent me from relaying what I saw here to my younger sister.
[Ah, the Jin Ju-eonga clan will earn well in the future~ It wasn’t for nothing they had conflict with the Mudang Faction.]
Sama Hyeon’s spiritual transmission echoed like a chorus.
I continued speaking with unaltered composure.
“Perhaps we could reduce that slightly… if you would.”
“Four tenths.”
“Three tenths.”
“Fair enough. Three and a half tenths.”
“Let us proceed with that.”
“…Sigh… So Ui-seon, you too… Quite ruthless indeed.”
I smiled wryly.
“What do you mean? I’ve been quite generous with my considerations.”
“Can’t be helped. We’re the ones in need, after all…”
Gaju Eon-gwon clicked his tongue.
“Then let’s eat first. We need to be well-fed before conducting experiments, don’t we?”
The table was laden with a dazzling array of delicacies.
“Excellent.”
The pleasure of eating matters.
* * *
The Jin Ju-eonga clan’s cuisine was impeccably prepared.
The seasoning was perfectly balanced, and above all, they were shamans of the deep-fry.
That crisp, shattering texture when bitten into, the way it melted on the tongue, and the rich, concentrated juices that followed—it was utterly addictive.
‘I’d love to learn this clan’s frying technique.’
After finishing the meal, the four of us headed directly to the experimental chamber.
As Gaju Eon-gwon led the way, the three of us continued our conversation through spiritual transmission.
[The fact that he so readily permits outsiders to witness something normally forbidden suggests there’s truly nothing problematic about revealing it~]
[Corpse puppet manufacturing could actually be considered a separate matter from one’s martial techniques. I realized this during the blacklist work—even though martial artists all appear to dedicate themselves to the martial way with singular focus, the treatment differs. So this could be the reason… but this Gaju leans toward the Heterodox Faction’s philosophy.]
Either way, it shouldn’t matter, I thought.
Yet Cheonwoo seemed to be contemplating it quite seriously.
That made sense. Cheonwoo belonged to the Mudang Faction.
From the perspective of the Mudang—counted as the foundation of the Righteous Faction—this appeared decidedly strange.
Cheonwoo wasn’t just anyone either.
The blacklist existed precisely to preserve the Way and righteousness that form the Mudang’s foundation.
‘Though he’s criticized for killing fellow disciples who share the same pot of rice.’
Yet now that he’d become a King, no one dared curse him.
I gazed at the pine tree while thinking this.
It was an ancient tree.
‘Yes. Perhaps I’ve simply experienced too much during my time outside.’
It occurred to me that Eon Jeong-mu’s condition might not be death, but rather a transitional phase from mastering the Kang Si-gong technique.
Perhaps upon complete mastery, he would become like Gaju Eon-gwon.
I released the tension I’d been holding in one corner of my heart at that thought.
We arrived at the experimental grounds.
Eon-gwon turned to look back.
“We’re here. I’ll need you to prepare the grounds.”
“May I use a sword?”
It was a somewhat arrogant question.
The implication was clear—if refused, he could destroy everything barehanded, though it would be tedious.
Eon-gwon observed the blue-eyed young man.
Had anyone else dared speak so, he would have needed to demonstrate his authority, but this man was different.
Ilgwang was someone who had the right to say such things.

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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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