The Youngest Son of the Nanyang Jin Family - Chapter 23

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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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The Youngest Son of the Nakhyang Jin Family — Chapter 23

I retraced the path by which I had come, moving with utmost discretion.
Backtracking while being pursued was undoubtedly a perilous endeavor.
This was no simple matter of fleeing and widening the distance—I was instead narrowing the gap between myself and my pursuers.
Should I be discovered, there would be no escape route left, which amounted to the same thing as certain death.
Yet if I succeeded, the situation would transform entirely.
It would become the safest place imaginable.
How long did I walk with such caution?
Together with Chaeseoha, I retraced our steps and concealed myself within a small cave situated near the Hochi Fortress.
At first glance, it was difficult to discern, and by using the surrounding vegetation and vines to obscure the entrance, it became a place no one could easily discover.
Of course, Chaeseoha undertook this task in my stead, as my condition was far from adequate.
As a result, her appearance grew even more dire.
Gathering the vegetation and vines had proven difficult; she bore scratches and bleeding wounds across her body.
Thanks to her efforts, I was able to conceal myself safely.
I lay there, chewing on the dried meat I had prepared beforehand.
Unable to light a fire, the jerky was the finest means of satiating hunger.
Cough.
As I coughed and glanced sideways, I saw Chaeseoha watching me intently, her breath held still.
More precisely, she was watching the jerky.
Soon after.
A rumbling sound erupted from her stomach.
I found myself smiling despite everything and tossed her a piece of jerky.
“Would you like some?”
“Am I permitted to eat?”
“Food exists to be eaten.”
“But….”
Chaeseoha’s gaze lingered, as though she were reassessing my appearance. Clad in silk garments that were clearly difficult to obtain, bearing no visible signs of hardship, she would certainly recognize that I was either a person of power or a young master from such a household.
Thus, her spirit seemed diminished.
I chuckled and tossed the jerky to her.
“Eat it. Cough! Without filling your belly, you won’t be able to move.”
At my words, Chaeseoha nodded and accepted the jerky. She gazed at it briefly in her palm before beginning to chew ravenously.
She was clearly famished.
The jerky was consumed in an instant.
Seeing this, I offered her several more pieces.
“…This is sufficient for me.”
“Eat it. Right now, you need it more than I do.”
“….”
Chaeseoha accepted the jerky once more and nodded.
My condition was far from ideal.
She couldn’t possibly be unaware of this, yet her role in what lay ahead was equally critical.
For that reason, I had to eat and gather my strength.
I made no haste, listening to the sound of myself chewing dried meat with deliberate slowness, my eyes closing as though taking a brief respite. As I stretched my body, sleep threatened to claim me at any moment.
How much time had passed? I sensed a presence drawing near, and slowly opened my eyes, turning to look beside me.
Chaeseoha had quietly positioned herself at my side, regarding me with an unwavering gaze.
“If you don’t mind, would it be permissible for me to examine your condition?”
“Even the Physician has given up on this body. Don’t concern yourself.”
“The Physician has… given up?”
“Yes. I’ve been poisoned. For quite some time, I’ve ingested minute quantities of toxin. It has burrowed deep into my very marrow—there’s nothing that can be done.”
At these words, Chaeseoha’s eyes widened in shock.
It was partly the casual manner in which I spoke of my poisoning, but more so the utter flatness of my voice.
To any observer, I appeared as one who had already surrendered to fate.
I offered a bitter smile and waved my hand dismissively.
“So don’t waste your effort. Rest and lie down. Once the night deepens further, we’ll make our escape.”
“But still…”
Chaeseoha did not heed my words.
In truth, if she had listened and simply given up, my situation would have become far more difficult.
After all, there was no one else besides her who could neutralize this poison.
I regarded her with an air of exasperation.
Her grotesquely disfigured face came into focus.
Her appearance was such that anyone would flee in terror, yet I observed her with complete indifference.
The world possessed countless physicians, yet there existed only one who had transcended all others—a pinnacle that no other physician could surpass.

The Divine Physician.

There was a legendary physician whose medical skill had reached the realm of the Divine—so the stories went, they could even resurrect the dead.
The Divine Physician Clan was established by the descendants of such a master.
A century ago, it was the most prosperous medical family in the Central Plains, with a level of medical expertise that could not even be compared to other physicians.
Though it had collapsed for reasons unknown and now existed only in the gossip of idle scholars, it remained a lineage revered by countless physicians.
The last descendant of the Divine Physician Clan.
That was Chaeseoha.
She had inherited the complete talent of her ancestor, the Divine Physician, and was the most exceptional figure in the clan’s history.
Once, her life had been saved, but she vanished without a trace, leaving no time to build a proper relationship.
When her whereabouts were finally discovered, she had already lost her life.
When she was beautiful, her beauty brought her suffering; when her appearance became disfigured, she endured the scorn of others.
Then came her tragic fate—used by the Imperial Court only to be crushed by power in the end.
As I was lost in such thoughts, Chaeseoha steadied her breathing and carefully opened her mouth once more.
“If you would prefer that I not touch you, I shall refrain… but if that is not the case, I would be grateful if you would allow me to take your pulse.”
“…Do as you wish.”
Was she pleased with my response?
A smile bloomed across her scarred face.
Most would have recoiled even at that, but I extended my hand without hesitation.
Her fingers found my pulse.
Only for a moment.
The instant she took my pulse, as if she had pierced through the entirety of my condition, Chaeseoha’s expression shifted. Her eyes widened in shock as she stared at me.
“…How are you even alive in such a state?”
“There is a reason I must live. So I grit my teeth and endure.”
“…As you say, the poison has penetrated not only your organs but your very marrow. If left untreated, you have no more than four days.”
These words came from Chaeseoha herself.
Then I truly had only four days remaining.
I withdrew my hand with a bitter smile.
“I knew as much, but it is shorter than expected. Hmm… knowing the span of one’s remaining life is a peculiar feeling. In any case, it is well. On my final journey, I can at least do one good deed.”
“A good deed?”
“Did I not save you from those ruffians? Cough, cough.”
I coughed and offered a small smile.
Chaeseoha’s eyes trembled.
Knowing that I had strained myself with a dying body to save her, no one could remain unmoved.
She steadied herself and gazed at me with composure.
“I cannot claim absolute certainty, but it is not as though all hope is lost. If you would permit it, Young Master, I would like to… attempt treatment.”
“Among the physicians who have spoken such words, none have succeeded in proper treatment.”
“I cannot claim with certainty that they lacked skill. However, if you would place your trust in me, I shall do my utmost, however meager my efforts may be.”
I observed the expression of Chaeseoha as she spoke.
Her eyes had changed.
The fragile gaze from moments before had vanished, replaced by the eyes of a physician regarding her patient.
Just as Chaeseoha had been on the day she treated me.
I found myself chuckling softly and nodding without thinking.
“I’ll trust you.”

* * *

“Hah…”
Chaeseoha, her breathing now steady, gazed at Jin Cheon-u lying motionless before her. His eyes remained closed, his body utterly still—he had clearly reached his limit.
Only the ragged sound of his breathing filled the silence.
As Chaeseoha observed his condition, her eyes gleamed with an enigmatic light.
Truly, a peculiar man.
It was remarkable enough that he had risked his life to save someone whose name he didn’t even know—yet upon seeing her face, his expression hadn’t wavered in the slightest.
He wasn’t even suppressing his shock.
Having witnessed and experienced countless people throughout her life, she knew well how to read the eyes and expressions of those who concealed their true feelings beneath a facade of indifference.
From Jin Cheon-u’s expression alone, she could discern the truth.
He wasn’t feigning concern.
He genuinely felt nothing at all.
This was a situation entirely new to her, leaving her without words to express what she felt.
A faint smile bloomed unbidden on her lips as she carefully approached his bare upper body and settled beside him.
Then she began to insert the needles with deliberate slowness.
They were no ordinary needles—their deep obsidian hue held an ethereal luminescence that set them apart.

Ink-Scented Jade Needles.

It was a needle crafted with meticulous precision, fashioned from the Ink-Fragrant Jade—a hereditary treasure of the Divine Physician Clan that served as the primary ingredient for the highest-grade antitoxin elixir, capable of neutralizing a thousand poisons.
A needle that existed nowhere else in the world.
For detoxification, it was an unparalleled choice.
Yet this alone proved insufficient.
Jin Cheon-u’s condition was simply that grave.
No matter how exceptional the needle’s properties, without properly restoring his vital energy, its efficacy would inevitably diminish.
Countless medicinal herbs flooded my mind at once.
Without brewing them into a decoction and administering it, all of this would be meaningless.
Even as such thoughts consumed me, I shook my head.
Bandits were stationed in every direction.
In this situation, abandoning Jin Cheon-u—who was as good as a corpse—to gather herbs was obviously impossible.
Moreover, even if herbs were available, brewing them into a proper decoction would be equally difficult.
Above all, I couldn’t risk lighting a fire in our current circumstances.
And given my lack of skill in concealing or erasing traces, there was a real danger that this place could be discovered—the worst possible outcome.
Brewing a decoction from herbs was simply not feasible.
“What do I do?”
Acupuncture alone had its limits in this situation; I needed to find an alternative solution.
I would save him no matter what.
Having made that vow, I would treat him as a physician should.
Steadying my breath, I reached into my robes and withdrew a small wooden case with quiet resolve.
Click—
As the lid opened, a subtle fragrance that calmed the spirit wafted forth, and a single elixir pill gleamed with an ethereal blue radiance so mesmerizing that one’s soul seemed to drift away at the mere sight of it.
I gazed upon it in silence.
The last remaining Spirit Elixir from Sega’s reserves—the Azure-Fragrant Pill.
Though I knew its formula, neither my father nor I had ever successfully crafted it myself.
Administering the Azure-Fragrant Pill would undoubtedly save Jin Cheon-u.
Yet the burden of using the last one remaining, coupled with the fear that I might never recreate it, made my hand hesitate.
“Compose yourself, Chaeseoha!”
I seized my wavering resolve with iron will.
Jin Cheon-u had sacrificed for me.
With a dying body, he had rescued me from the bandits’ grasp, and as if that weren’t enough, he had created this safe haven where I could hide and breathe.
Without him, my fate would have been as clear as fire.
Even when told that only four days remained, he had smiled and been satisfied merely with saving me—was he not such a person?
To repay him, however small the gesture, I had to save his life.
I could not hesitate over a single elixir pill.
I am a physician, and he is my patient.
A physician exists to heal the afflicted.
With my resolve set, I steadied my breathing and grasped the elixir in my palm.
Then, slowly extending my hand, I opened Jin Cheon-u’s mouth and placed the pill inside.
Whisper—
melting away.
The moment the Spirit Pill entered my mouth, it dissolved instantly and vanished.
“Ah….”
A brief exclamation escaped, but I quickly shook my head and cast aside the useless thoughts.
That instant.
A transformation began to occur within Jin Cheon-u’s body.
In a flash, his entire form flushed crimson before subsiding once more.
Chaeseoha, startled, hastily reached to check his pulse, but the changes were unfolding far more rapidly than anticipated.
A scorching heat began radiating from every part of his body.
Whoosh—!
Cold sweat poured from him like rain, and a tremendous stench began emanating.
Caught off guard by the sudden turn of events, Chaeseoha could only watch helplessly.
Thump—!
The sound of his heartbeat thundered loudly.
Yet that was not all that was strange.
A peculiar phenomenon began manifesting across Jin Cheon-u’s entire body.
A powder-like substance began flowing from his body, eventually taking on a distinct form.
“The… Gok Ok?”
Watching the powder flowing from Jin Cheon-u’s body form into a jade pendant that gleamed with an entrancing green light, Chaeseoha’s eyes filled with bewilderment.
Yet what happened next left her utterly speechless.
The formed Gok Ok pulsed with light in rhythm with his heartbeat several times, then gradually scattered and began seeping back into Jin Cheon-u’s body.
“This is impossible.”
Chaeseoha swallowed hard as she watched the phenomenon unfold.
A sight her eyes witnessed yet her mind could not accept.
It felt as though, instead of obtaining the three flowers granted by the Threefold Refinement Technique, Jin Cheon-u had obtained the Gok Ok.
Then.
As the Gok Ok’s powder began absorbing, the Ink Fragrance Jade Needles embedded in Jin Cheon-u’s body slowly burrowed deeper inward.
No, “burrowed” was not the right word.
It was as though the needles were being swallowed whole.
“No—.”
She urgently reached out to retrieve the needles, but it was futile.
The already-absorbed jade needles were no longer visible.
“Ah—!”
A hollow cry escaped her lips.
Two heirlooms of the Divine Physician Clan, once called the greatest medical family in the Central Plains, had vanished in an instant.
Faced with such an absurd situation, Chaeseoha lost all composure.

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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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