“It’s a blessing I met you, Hyung. Truly. Thanks to you, I actually received proper training.”
“The back alleys of Hangzhou must have been terrifying.”
“Well, for me, perhaps. Hye-ah grew up in those same shadows, but she’s… different.”
At that, Jin Cheon-hee threw out a casual observation.
“You speak of her as if she belongs to a different species entirely.”
“Hmm?”
“I mean, as a brother, you treat her well enough to lay down your life for her, yet strangely, you refuse to lean on her.”
“Of course I don’t. How could I lean on her? On that sick child?”
“Hmm…”
Jin Cheon-hee understood why the Sama siblings were fundamentally different from the Hwangbo siblings. Even now, the younger Hwangbo sibling remained healthy, radiant, and possessed her own burning aspirations. To Sama Hyeon, however, Sama Hye was eternally his frail little sister. Having endured such wretched hardships to keep her breathing, his protective instinct was understandable. Nevertheless, from Sama Hye’s perspective, it was a dynamic that likely caused its own quiet injury.
“Sama Hye is strong. Try trusting her a little. You are her older brother, after all.”
“I do trust her. She’s stronger than me, you know~”
He says that, but his actions scream otherwise, Jin Cheon-hee mused.
He felt the urge to nag again, but quickly realized it was just adult meddling. He forcibly suppressed his inner stubborn old man, knowing this was a knot they had to untie themselves. He hoped that one day, Sama Hyeon would see Hye-ah as someone he could stand beside, rather than just protect. Even if that day never came, it was a path they had to walk together.
It wasn’t ordinary for a young child to nurse a dying sibling day after day. To spoon-feed a sister who begged for death to escape the pain, to scour the underworld for opium just to grant her a moment’s respite—no one could do such things and remain entirely sane.
If Jin Cheon-hee advised the Sama siblings to lean on each other, they would likely sneer with disdainful eyes and say, ‘I’d sooner lean on the ornamental koi in the pond than on that bastard.’
If there are siblings like that, then there are siblings like this.
…Ugh, still. I wish Sama Hyeon would realize that his excessive protection hurts her pride.
Thinking this, Jin Cheon-hee shifted the subject.
“As long as you eat well, that’s what matters.”
“What are on your mind, Hyung?”
“How to stop this war. Or, if that’s impossible, how to at least reduce the mountain of corpses… things like that.”
“Whatever you think about, take care of your body first.”
“Yeah. Don’t worry.”
Jin Cheon-hee stared up at the ceiling. Seeing those blue eyes trembling slightly, Sama Hyeon thought, That Hyung… Is he going to crash into a wall again?
***
Jin Cheon-hee’s master tested the smoking pipe a few times, weighing it in his hand before deeming it acceptable.
“The airflow is smooth, and since it is an artifact, the casing is tougher than most steel blades—superior durability. Moreover, the internal structure allows for the accumulation of internal energy while breathing through the stem, akin to Qi circulation. It borders on being a divine object.”
As expected of the Demonic Cult.
To casually toss such a masterpiece around as if it were a common trinket found on the street was terrified. Still, cigarettes would have been more convenient… but this had style. There was a reason the clan elders smoked these with such arrogant pride.
“Hmm… I’ll look like a proper Murim master,” Jin Cheon-hee mused.
Based on his encounters with countless experts in the Gangho, being a Murim master was half about aesthetics. Even those who weren’t masters obsessed over it as if their lives depended on it, for they lived and died by ‘form.’ Sometimes, they literally died because of it. There were easy ways to win, yet they would yield the first move—or even five—just to appear dashing, only to end up carried into his medical ward on a stretcher.
And I would be the one stitching those avoidable wounds.
Feeling they lacked grace or had disgraced their sect, they would suddenly try to bite their tongue and commit suicide.
And I would have to grab them and stop them yet again.
Since ‘form’ was inextricably linked to ‘face,’ the Gangho was a place where looking good often held more value than breathing.
Spin—
Jin Cheon-hee twirled the pipe like a pen. An intermediate physician observing him paused to ask.
“Where did you get that?”
“Hmm? The pipe?”
“Yes.”
“Smoking is prohibited within the Medical Pavilion. I don’t smoke near the patient tents, either.”
“I know that, so don’t worry. Hahaha!”
I’ll quit when I get off this battlefield.
He hadn’t struggled this much with cigarettes in his past life, but perhaps this was the allure of a martial artist. Alcohol and pipes—both were detrimental to health, but sometimes the soul needed what the body rejected.
Well, they don’t know the circumstances.
By now, the fortress was fully preparing for troop deployment. Jin Cheon-hee’s body had healed considerably, and Wangya Ju, too, was back on her feet.
“An item crafted by a highly skilled artisan. It’s rare to find someone capable of creating such an exquisite piece. Truly impressive.”
Wangya Ju, a woman who once indulged in the romance of the arts, instantly recognized the item’s value.
“I’m merely smoking for medicinal purposes. Temporarily.”
“Hmm. Is it because of Inner Demons?”
Her intuition was terrifyingly sharp.
“That… is similar.”
“A pity. It suits you quite well.”
His Highness Eun, standing beside her, added a dry comment.
“Is secondhand smoke acceptable for the rest of us?”
“It’s not okay. But endure it. War is far more detrimental to your health.”
Jin Cheon-hee replied with a brazen face. Seeing this, His Highness Eun smirked.
“Seeing you so uncharacteristically shameless, it seems that the Inner Demon issue is unavoidable for you, too.”
“……”
It was a matter of life and death, so Jin Cheon-hee didn’t bother answering.
“I just made a promise to my master.”
Wangya Ju nodded.
“I understand. Indeed, my recovery so far is thanks to your medical arts and sorcery.”
“Sorcery is merely a temporary measure to boost recovery; it’s not something to be relied upon frequently.”
“Still, recovering this much in time is thanks to you. What you learned in Wannong has been quite helpful to me.”
The sounds of drums and clashing weapons began to echo from the perimeter.
Will I die today?
Jin Cheon-hee thought probably not. His hands weren’t shaking. His master seemed to have altered the herbal formula again. Did he foresee the war gnawing deeply at his disciple’s mind?
Can’t even take care of my own body; I’m disqualified as a physician.
Even while scoffing at himself, knowing he had to endure, Jin Cheon-hee’s eyes sharpened with seriousness.
—Do not get seriously injured. No, if that’s hard, at least come back alive.
His master had regretted not being able to accompany him. Jin Cheon-hee had strongly dissuaded him due to worries about his heart condition, and since his master was currently handling a crucial strategic position, he couldn’t move freely anyway.
Still.
Hmm, Master probably doesn’t realize how reassuring his presence alone is.
Just knowing someone was behind him, supporting him, significantly calmed the turbulence in his mind.
Ah, I see. Humans are so simple.
A blue sky stretched across the vast wilderness. Were the black dots on the endless horizon the enemy?
Jin Cheon-hee, a member of the main unit, wasn’t part of the special mobile force. His mission was to escort His Highness Eun, the most vital piece on the board.
Would he resort to using the Shadows at the very last moment?
When the cannonball flew earlier, the Shadows were nowhere to be seen. Was it because they were waiting for the explosion, or had they been sent on another mission? Jin Cheon-hee had no way of knowing. Of course, His Highness Eun wouldn’t reveal that, either.
Using the Zhuge Clan’s Heavenly Energy Bewildering Footwork, which had reached its peak, Jin Cheon-hee had to escort and transport His Highness Eun with all his might. That was his greatest mission.
Of course, he wasn’t alone.
Thud!
Five more masters, dispatched from the Imperial Palace, joined them from the Eastern Depot. All the Eastern Depot masters wore masks and remained dead silent. Their presence felt subtly different from the Shadows he had encountered before; they were quiet, devoid of the jagged inhumanity that characterized the Shadows, yet equally deadly.
Were they highly trained?
His Highness Eun spoke calmly.
“One is an absolute master of the Transformation Realm, and the remaining four are masters of the Peak Realm. I hope we won’t suffer too much.”
This man remained tranquil even in this situation, like an idler on a sightseeing trip. Was this the kind of temperament required to become Emperor? The ordinary Jin Cheon-hee, despite the chemical assistance of medicine to maintain his sanity, was a little—no, very—envious.
First, His Highness Eun and Jin Cheon-hee mounted their warhorses. Hwanggu, on the other hand, decided to walk alongside the steeds. In case of an emergency, His Highness Eun would switch to riding Hwanggu while Jin Cheon-hee executed his Lightness Arts, or vice versa. Both strategies had their advantages and disadvantages, so they would have to assess the chaos as it unfolded.
Boom, du-dung, boom—
Following the rhythmic, bone-shaking drumbeat, the battle lines began to divide. As Jin Cheon-hee observed the shifting tides of men, realization struck him instantly.
“Ah, this is the Eight Trigrams Formation—one of the Zhuge Clan’s representative formations.”
Ancient texts recorded Sima Yi’s profound admiration for Zhuge Liang’s Eight Trigrams Formation. If executed flawlessly, it could effectively penetrate the gaps in enemy cavalry even with a smaller force. However, the term ‘perfect’ implied absolute precision, which was an extremely challenging feat in the mud and blood of reality.
The strategists must have been oblivious to this potential until now. For Master to recommend it, there must be a valid reason.
First, the formation was divided into three forces. Upon witnessing this, Jin Cheon-hee grasped his master’s intent.
This clustering of forces actually hindered standard strategy and tactics. The opponent’s forces consisted of archers positioned in a formation centered around cavalry; clustering made it easier for the opponent to surround and annihilate them. This very strategy had been the cause of the Imperial Army’s defeats until now.
Right now, his master must be observing the board from a distance. Yet, for some reason, the disciple felt he could see the expression on his master’s face clearly. First, he would cover his mouth with a fan, pondering the formation to deploy like a child selecting a toy.
As a strategist, time was purely a concept to him. He was a man who transmuted soldiers’ lives into numbers. Unlike Jin Cheon-hee himself, he was a true descendant of the Zhuge Clan.
“1st Army 150,000, 2nd Army 170,000, 3rd Army 150,000?” he would muse. “The 170,000 in the center must be the Central Army and the main unit. The supply unit should ideally be organized around 50,000, but they should follow from as far away as possible.”
Puff—
Smoke rose in unison from the pipe. Observing the moving troops, riding the current of his thoughts, the disciple read the master’s mind.
Physicians belonged to the unit, but strictly speaking, they were part of the supply lines. In this era, medics didn’t follow at close range like in modern warfare; roads had to be cleared first. Treatment began only after the slaughter ended.
And I am in the main unit.
The army rippled. Under the Great General, countless generals, Thousand-Man Commanders, Centurions, and Decurions received their orders and moved according to the formation.
Ah, it could be called the Eight Trigrams Formation, but it isn’t the pure Eight Trigrams Formation as is. Master… This is…
Dawn rose blue over the wilderness.
It was the exact color of the eyes of the last and sole successor of the Zhuge Clan.
The White Qilin Divine Physician.