Doctor’s Rebirth - Chapter 945

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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 945
Yeongseong Sanin continued speaking.
“Yes… well, let’s set aside such talk. Thank you for your help. I was just finishing a month-long project—it nearly fell apart, you know?”
“A month long?”
I paused mid-sip, startled by this revelation.
Yeongseong Sanin stroked his beard thoughtfully.
“Indeed. I had to deal with eight creatures like the one that bolted today. Once I discover who orchestrated this, I’ll seize their very soul and… ahem. Pretend you didn’t hear that last part.”
The Head Disciple of Mosan Sect looked embarrassed at his own words.
He’d just been cursing the Ghost Spirit Faction moments ago, and now his true nature had slipped through—clearly mortifying him.
‘I see. Whether martial artist or scholar, all Martial Artists burn with the same fire.’
I gained a new understanding in that moment.
At this rate, I wondered if passion itself flowed through the very veins of Gangho like an underground spring.
The Head Disciple spoke again.
“So then, what brings you to seek out our sect?”
“Are you aware of the incidents occurring throughout Gangso Province?”
“If our sect doesn’t know, who would? Of course we know. Most certainly… it must be the work of those who cast foreign and malevolent objects into our sect.”
He clearly knew more than I’d expected.
I took a deep breath and asked calmly.
“I’ve come seeking your assistance in dispelling the sorcery that has spread across all of Gangso Province.”
At my words, the Head Disciple laughed heartily and stroked his beard.
“We could do it, certainly… but is there truly a need?”
“Pardon?”
“When has conflict ever ceased in Gangho? Most who fall victim to such trivial sorcery would have drawn their blades and fought anyway. And beyond that—do you truly believe anyone would thank us for dispelling it?”
This was an answer I hadn’t anticipated.
The members of the Righteous Faction I’d met thus far at least maintained the appearance of upholding righteousness before grand causes.
But Mosan Sect was different. And that perspective was, in a way…
‘…similar to the gaze my Master once showed me.’
No matter how many patients I treat, more continue to arrive.
The bloodshed never ceases.
The patients I heal go on to wound others, and the wounded return to the Medical Guild seeking treatment.
Even if I save them, it’s merely another cycle of this blood calamity—there is no end.
I know that while they call me Baek Rin-ui-seon to my face, they point and whisper “Hyeolrin Gwangssal” behind my back.
The Head Disciple of Mosan Sect resembled my Master in this regard.
“…Do you not wish to save these people?”
“Well, among those who brandish blades in Gangho, I wonder how many truly understand righteousness and duty. You certainly strike me as a righteous gentleman and a hero of justice, but…”
One thing became certain from this exchange.
Though Mosan Sect maintains a place in Gangho, its character differs fundamentally from other martial sects that prioritize martial prowess.
And their perspective is equally distinct.
‘Yes. Speaking with the scholars on the way here, I sensed a subtle distinction they drew between themselves and the martial artists.’
A soft rustle.
The Head Disciple of Mosan Sect spoke.
“Of course, as you can see, we handle the foreign entities that rampage within our sect’s domain ourselves.”
“….”
“All the foreign entities and demons our ancestors sealed away are properly preserved. Moreover, our sect causes no harm to Gangho. We never have. So there is nothing for us to exchange with Gangho.”
‘So that’s how Mosan Sect sees it.’
Now that I thought about it, Mosan Sect rarely initiated blood massacres.
In fact, they almost never did.
Unless they broke their precepts and descended into the world, most of them worked as necessary fixtures in Gangho.
‘They cause no harm, so they have no intention of accumulating favors either.’
Cold. Utterly cold.
Then Yeongseong Sanin spoke.
“Of course, that’s merely my perspective and my sect’s perspective. Now, shall we move on to the matter of business?”
“Business, you say…?”
“If we were to undertake this task for you, what compensation could you offer? We must avoid doing things for free, after all.”
“!”
He left room for negotiation.
But he would certainly secure profit.
“…If you could grant me time to consider, I would appreciate it.”
“Hehehehe, you’re more cautious than I heard. Despite your reputation for madness, you’re remarkably rational. Well, for someone who’s reached such a position, it would be difficult with ordinary judgment. In a way, this is your true nature.”
“You flatter me.”
“Not at all. As a word of advice, that spell technique will last approximately half a year. By then, the martial sects of Gangso Province will be few and far between—quite clean, really. From the perspective of commoners, isn’t that better?”
“….”
Cold.
Brutally, viciously cold.
‘He truly resembles my Master.’
Now it was certain.
He was disillusioned with martial artists. And he disliked Gangho itself.
Yet he wouldn’t take direct action himself.
As Head Disciple, his Mosan Sect came first.
Normally I would refuse to answer and leave, but this argument demanded a response.
I didn’t know why.
It was merely the instinct of someone who had died many times over.
A sense that I must break his logic now, or fail to do so.
I drew forth one of the counterarguments I had long considered.
“There are no vacancies in Gangho. You know this yourself.”
“You mean others will fill those vacancies?”
“Yes. And martial artists pay taxes. As a provincial administrator, I merely help the people who pay taxes. Of course, I don’t overlook the Heterodox Faction members who evade them. If Gangso Province’s tax revenue decreases, what shall I do?”
“Hehehehe. A curious perspective. But somehow I sense there’s another true reason behind it.”
“….”
Yeongseong Sanin peered through me as though questioning my very essence.
“I understand you don’t wish to lose tax revenue, and that deploying new martial artists to hold that position would require additional administrative personnel—another loss. But is that all? What if the Moshan Sect were to release funds to aid in relief efforts?”
It was a test.
A kind of trial.
He sought to probe the essence of who I was.
I couldn’t deflect with words.
Not with someone like him.
Pressed to reveal my true intentions, I awkwardly scratched the back of my head.
“Since martial artists are people too, a doctor merely fulfills their duty.”
“….”
I felt a bit embarrassed. What could I do about it?
Yeongseong Sanin finally parted his lips.
“…So there truly exists a righteous wanderer in this world.”
“….”
“But why a doctor of all things? Wouldn’t a martial artist capable of pacifying the realm be preferable?”
The answer to that question was something I had long contemplated.
“Since ancient times, martial artists have said that righteousness resembles the shape of a person standing between people with a blade—and a doctor’s blade counts as one. The character for righteousness itself contains two people with greatness between them, expressing the form of standing between people.”
This character for greatness also depicts a person with arms and legs spread wide.
In the end, only people can exist within the character for righteousness.
Countless people gather to form the character for righteousness.
Combining this, connoisseurs of Gangho say:
Righteousness is the form of drawing one’s blade against injustice between people and protecting the weak.
“If that blade means one for destruction, isn’t it too small to establish righteousness?”
“How does size matter in establishing a sword through the heart?”
“…So you claim all blades in the world are equal? By that logic, doctors, farmers tilling fields, merchants—all wield them.”
Blades exist everywhere.
Farmers use sickles, merchants use scissors to cut goods.
Blacksmiths wield hammers and tongs, and even scholars carry blades to cut letters.
“Are you claiming all of these constitute righteousness? Blades that can’t even break a wooden door before your eyes, let alone match a martial artist’s?”
“If one carries a blade in their heart, its form matters not in establishing righteousness.”
“…A curious one you are. Now I understand why Gangho calls you Ilgwang.”
“You may consider it mere falsehood.”
“No. Looking into your eyes, I see you truly believe this. Since the heart’s blade cares not for size or form, anyone can achieve righteousness.”
Yeongseong Sanin fell into deep thought before asking:
“…For martial artists, the heart’s blade ultimately depends on one’s inner image. Reversed, you would achieve the heart’s blade realm even wielding scissors, even wielding a poker stick.”
Having grasped this much, Yeongseong Sanin spoke:
“To establish a sword of the heart with any object, regardless of what it is—you are truly a fearsome one.”
Yeongseong Sanin had penetrated my inner image through mere conversation.
Yet I did not deny it.
“All things in the world follow the principle of returning to their source. As farmers have the Way of the farmer, fishermen have the Way of the fisherman, so too does the heart’s blade. Wherever one goes, if they can establish a blade within their chest, anyone can ultimately reach the heart’s blade realm.”
“It is said that all things in the world return to the same source. Just as a farmer has the way of the farmer, and a fisherman has the way of the fisherman, the sword of the heart is ultimately the same. Wherever you go, if you can plant a sword in your heart, then anyone can ultimately reach the sword of the heart.”
“Is that the essence of chivalry as you understand it?”
“….”
Yeongseong Sanin read both the rationality and madness within Jin Cheon-hee simultaneously.
If, as Buddhism and Taoism teach, one can achieve the Way regardless of what one does.
Then that enlightenment too would be equal, and chivalry itself would be equal.
“I would not wish to become your enemy, Ilgwang.”
* * *
Jin Cheon-hee was shown to a guest chamber.
The chamber was immaculate, furnished entirely with expensive pieces.
In a way, it resembled the current state of the Moshan Sect itself.
Sitting on the bed and gathering my thoughts.
Yeongseong Sanin possessed no chivalry in his heart.
That much was certain.
‘Ou, amazing….’
He was decidedly different from the martial artists I had encountered thus far.
Even different from the Jin Ju-eon family, who were called heterodox.
Each fending for oneself.
‘Moreover, he seems to dislike martial artists who have learned martial arts quite a bit.’
Well, like my Master, there might be some backstory to it.
If in childhood one’s mother, father, siblings, aunts, and uncles were all slaughtered, one’s home and fortune burned to ash, and then lived for over a decade under a death decree with poison released and lives taken and spared—wouldn’t anyone become like that?
With a child’s body clinging to the Nine Yin Meridians, a terminal condition, rolling through mud day after day just to survive.
And they don’t even properly explain why such things happened.
‘What in the world transpired between the previous Gaju and the Elders of Gangho back then?’
The Jegallim Family had brought forth atrocities they claimed justified the extermination decree, but those were merely surface justifications. The true reason lies shrouded in darkness.
And even for such false accusations—did it warrant cutting the throats of newborn babies to assign guilt? No, it did not.
Though my Master spoke of it with self-deprecation.
By my Master’s own words, now helping martial artists makes my Master a sage and a Buddha.
Isn’t it already hypocrisy to preach that someone who suffered such things their entire life should love Gangho and hold chivalry in their heart?
‘That’s right. My Master is… being forcibly transformed into a Buddha because of one disciple…’
It’s not without reason that my Master tells me to unify the martial realm instead.
That would be more satisfying for them, and far easier besides.
Because of one disciple, my Master is loving enemies—well, not quite that far, but feeding them, bandaging their wounds.
Sometimes even chewing garbage food together and swallowing it.
‘Of course, occasionally my Master also loses their temper with sects that harbored grudges and settles old debts.’
But the essence of healing people remains unchanged, so there is no way to express this madness except as the bond between master and disciple.
Meanwhile, the Head Disciple of the Moshan Sect, Yeongseong Sanin.
He likely has the bond of master and disciple as well, but among his disciples, none seem obsessed with saving lives.
‘The Moshan Sect doesn’t particularly advocate for goodness in the first place.’
I already know that goodness is not necessary for the cultivation of the Immortal Way.
Of course, like the Mudang Faction or the Huashan Faction, they still enter Gangho with chivalry that helps people, but the minimum condition for the Immortal is not goodness.
Even the wicked become immortals upon reaching the Way, do they not?
Ma-jon is by no measure a virtuous person, and Mu-jon is not one who practices virtue either.
Moreover.
Seon-jon is no different.
Though little is known of him, had he pursued virtue, Gangho would have taken an entirely different form by now.
‘It makes sense that the Head Disciple of Mosan Sect views me with such wariness.’
-To erect the sword of your heart against any object without discrimination… you are truly a fearsome individual.
-I would not wish to become your enemy. Ilgwang.
To Yeongseong Sanin, I had become such an existence.

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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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