The human hide is a canvas of endurance, weathering a lifetime of insults.

Since the dawn of antiquity, mankind has wracked its collective mind for the wisdom to undo such ruin. Smallpox, in particular, is a cruel artist; the inflammation ravages the deep dermal layers, leaving behind permanent, cratered indentations that refuse to heal as they once were.

Even in modern times, severe acne leaves similar ghosts—commonly known as pockmarks—long after the infection has been purged. But smallpox is a scourge of a different order. It carpets the entire visage in these hollows, turning a face into a landscape of scars that renders normal social existence impossible.

“To restore the flesh to its pristine, pre-infection state is a tall order,” Jin Cheon-hee admitted, his voice low and clinical. “However, if we can merely render them presentable enough for society and to a level where they can walk the streets without shame. So that should suffice.”

“Hmm. Even that alone would completely alter the trajectory of a patient’s life.”

Zhuge Rin nodded slowly. Even a man of his lofty station understood the social death sentence carried by such disfigurement.

“The fundamental principle is regeneration following destruction,” Jin Cheon-hee declared.

He rolled up his sleeve to reveal his left arm. Miraculously, the scar from his cowpox inoculation; which had once swollen into a pustule before sinking deep into the flesh, had filled in so perfectly that it was invisible to the naked eye.

“My natural regeneration is exceptional, so I wouldn’t typically require a procedure for a mere vaccination. Knowing this, I deliberately injected the left arm to create a control scar. Thanks to that, I became an excellent test subject.”

“…!?”

Zhuge Rin’s eyes widened. In a blur of motion, he reached out, grabbing both of Jin Cheon-hee’s cheeks and stretching them mercilessly.

“Ghk—M-Mwashter?!”

“Hahaha! You left your dominant right arm pristine, yet you treated your own body as a laboratory experiment on the left? Is this mouth the one spouting such madness?”

“Oww… ow…”

“Do not worry, Hee-ya. Even if I tear this mouth of yours, let us see how well it recovers. I shall remove the scar using the exact same method.”

…Save me.

***

Once the commotion subsided and his cheeks stopped throbbing, Jin Cheon-hee finally managed to explain the mechanics to his master.

“You intend to manifest Sword Qi with such microscopic precision that you shave away the surface of the skin, then apply the Golden Wound Medicine to stimulate regeneration?”

“Yes! Precisely!”

It was, in essence, modern laser resurfacing. The critical hurdle was that projecting Sword Qi to such a refined degree required one to reach at least the Sword Master Realm. Even then, possessing the power was one thing; controlling it with the delicacy of a surgeon was another realm entirely.

“So… effectively,” Zhuge Rin summarized, his tone dripping with disbelief, “you are suggesting that a Supreme Peak Realm Master, a being who has transcended mortality, should refrain from beheading enemies and instead shave human skin as if carving a grain of rice?”

“Correct.”

“Hee-ya. A lifetime is often not enough to reach the Supreme Peak. One must dance across the precipice of death a thousand times, surviving the blood-soaked grudges of the Gangho, just to grasp the hem of such power. And you wish to use that apotheosis of martial achievement to… exfoliate someone?”

Jin Cheon-hee met his master’s gaze without flinching.

“It is not merely shaving skin, Master. It is saving a person. It is the Art of Saving Lives! It changes the very fabric of their existence, does it not?”

“Using the Supreme Peak Realm for cosmetic dermatology… Hah.”

The disciple looked at the One Light, the Blue-Eyed Mad Physician, as if asking what could possibly be strange about the notion.

“Naturally, even with such a realm, absolute restoration is impossible, and the recovery period is significant. But for smallpox survivors, the calculation is different.”

Jin Cheon-hee pressed on, his enthusiasm mounting.

“Of course, lasers—ah, I mean, Sword Qi—would require inhuman control to regulate the depth of penetration into the dermal layers. Maintaining that consistent output would demand concentration akin to carving the Heart Sutra onto a single grain of rice. But is that effort not worth the salvation of a human life?”

“…You would do it.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Ah… Yes. Seeing my recovery, a few members of the Medical Pavilion have already volunteered. Hehehe. The clinical progress has been promising for all of them. Even the physicians who initially fretted over the post-procedural redness are now ecstatic with the results. I’ve already completed the draft for the medical treatise.”

Thud.

He slid a tome as thick as a brick across the table.

“Hee-ya. This treatment is only viable for Supreme Peak Realm Masters. How many beings in this world do you think are capable of reading this and executing it?”

“Huu, but listen, Master. This is truly the Art of Saving Lives.”

The disciple was relentless.

***

“…I will utilize the principles of the Sutra of Changing Tendons and Washing Marrow to accelerate the patient’s cellular regeneration, thereby mitigating side effects. The clinical results of that experiment are detailed in Chapter 72.”

Rustle.

Zhuge Rin was forced to sit through his disciple’s elaborate Gangho Presentation.

“Huu.”

What in the heavens is wrong with this boy?

Safely preventing smallpox was already a feat sufficient to earn the title of Divine Physician. Where in his twisted genius did he conceive the idea of grinding down the pride of Supreme Peak Masters to erase pockmarks?

“…Through this process, as the flesh fills in via controlled destruction and regeneration, the dermis thickens, resulting in skin that is more elastic and healthier than before. Master, flattening the scarred surface is merely the baseline! If we fine-tune the output, we can achieve wrinkle reduction and elasticity improvements—though I know you would kill me if I asked a Supreme Peak Master to use their precious Sword Thread for a facelift.”

…Is he insane?

Yet, even amidst this absurdity, the disciple’s face shone with a terrifying intelligence as he lectured. Withering under his master’s chilly gaze, Jin Cheon-hee continued undeterred.

“However, side effects remain the primary concern, the first being post-inflammatory hyperpigmentation…”

He listed the complications one by one, followed by their preventative countermeasures.

“…But the consensus among physicians and patients is that even with slight discoloration, the result is vastly superior to the current Mama marks. To minimize this risk…”

What is he? This creature.

As a master, Zhuge Rin was certain he had imparted his knowledge without reservation. So why was this boy embracing smallpox patients and slamming down a dictionary-sized treatise on cosmetic surgery?

Jin Cheon-hee’s eyes sparkled, shifting gears.

“Of course, Master! A profit model is also prepared! The children of high officials often have their paths to government service or marriage blocked due to Mama. A few freckles might be overlooked, but a face ravaged by pockmarks renders social advancement impossible. We have determined that high officials are willing to pay astronomical sums for the sake of their sons and daughters. Please, observe the revenue projection on the next page.”

Flip.

“…”

An enormous sum stared back at him from the page.

“This pricing is fully feasible. In fact, I intend to charge a premium for the six-month comprehensive management course. Despite the cost, the positive response rate from Hangzhou’s powerful families is nearly ninety percent! This is phenomenal profitability, Master!”

Why were dermatology clinics booming in the modern era? Because the wealthy poured liquid assets into their skin. Plastic surgery offered dramatic changes but carried risks; as people aged, they turned to maintenance to soften their impressions. That was why the golden lands of Cheongdam and Gangnam were saturated with clinics.

Naturally, the high-ranking nobility of this era possessed the same desperate vanity. If severe pockmarks were viewed as a repulsive curse, the demand would be infinite. Illness did not hurt less simply because one was high-ranking; their pain was the clinic’s profit.

“And with the exorbitant fees they pay, the patients of the Hundredfold Benevolence Foundation can receive the procedure at a minimal cost. The rich effectively subsidize the poor.”

“…Right. At this price, a Supreme Peak Master might grit their teeth and demean themselves once or twice. If only they could shed their pride.”

“That is the bottleneck. So, I prepared this! A strategic linkage between the Martial Arts City and aesthetic procedures! To reach the Supreme Peak, one must cross the line of death, yes—but the financial cost of training is also immense. We will accept martial artists with excellent comprehension as scholarship students. Upon completing their training, they will sign a contract to utilize their martial arts for the Saving of Lives.”

“…Just for skin?”

“It is life or death for the patient, Master. Someone like you, who has reigned as the most beautiful existence in the room since birth, could never understand that desperation.”

“…”

Zhuge Rin sighed, a long, weary exhalation. He looked up at the ceiling, seeking answers from the void.

If he had come to me devising a stratagem to sever an enemy’s head, I would be at ease.

Was that not the common nature of the Gangho? As one of the Three Great Divine Physicians, Zhuge Rin had been entangled in the great and small vendettas of the Murim countless times. Killing and being killed, fighting to manifest one’s will, plotting amidst sticky webs of grudges—that was the world he knew. One became a Supreme Peak Master to execute a nemesis, though the majority died before reaching that height, leaving their grudges unsettled.

Why on earth is my disciple proposing we use the Supreme Peak Realm for skin treatment?

Was this, too, the karma of the Blood Qilin Mad Slaughterer? In a way, since the boy himself was safe, perhaps it was acceptable. At least he wasn’t rolling around in the mud of a battlefield.

I gave this boy everything, and this bastard is doing… this with it?

“Hee-ya, aren’t you interested in something like Unifying the Murim instead?”

“Pardon? Master? Are you perhaps referring to that archaic, pre-modern ruling method that produces nothing but a mountain of corpses?”

“…”

Zhuge Rin was a genius.

He had been hailed as one since birth, a brilliance so intense it was believed to be the cause of his Heavenly Punishment, the Nine Yin Severed Meridians. No one in this world surpassed his comprehension; enlightenment was his constant, unwanted companion. To him, medicine and martial arts were merely complex puzzles, mechanical formations waiting to be solved.

Given time and interest, there was nothing he couldn’t do.

It was just that… grasping the minds of others was a bother. He had enlightened himself on the nature of the universe, yet his disciple remained an impossible cipher.

“Fine. Let’s try it. We simply need to grind down a Supreme Peak Master to perform skin resurfacing, is that it?”

“Ooh! Master, thank you! For now, I think just the two of us will suffice. Since Master and I practice the same lineage of martial arts, it will be easy to synchronize the fine intensity and depth of the Sword Qi. Animal trials are complete. As for human subjects, our grad studen—no, several Senior Physicians volunteered directly!”

“No… What is this madness?”

“Master, since you were born with a constitution of white jade skin, you wouldn’t know the sorrow, but pockmarks drive people to the brink. Depression follows, and social phobia takes root.”

“…Understood. Hee-ya. You are saying the patient’s quality of life is paramount.”

“And we shall earn a mountain of gold from the nobility of Hangzhou.”

Zhuge Rin was a genius. However, to the genius Zhuge Rin, Jin Cheon-hee was the only entity in creation he could not understand.