“The White Qilin silk tied around the Heavenly Thunder Hawk‘s neck…”

“Yes. It’s a warning. The Heavenly Thunder Hawk belongs to the White Qilin Medical Pavilion, and anyone who harms it will suffer the same fate.”

The fisherman shivered at Jin Cheon-hee’s cold words.

‘Ah, maybe I was a little too intense.’

Jin Cheon-hee, determined to forgive no villain who had harmed his furry (or feathery) companions, had prepared a feast for them. Just last night, he had meticulously sewn those bands, stitch by stitch.

The cloth he had used for the bands was from the silk martial robes his Master had gifted him when he first embarked on his journey to the Gangho. These robes were embroidered with the symbol of the White Qilin Medical Pavilion. He had carefully cut the fabric into three pieces—one for the mother and two for the chicks—and tied them around their necks and ankles.

Despite his recent recovery, Jin Cheon-hee found himself working tirelessly once again.

Returning to Hangzhou on a fisherman’s boat, he made his way back without a moment’s rest. The air of Hangzhou, which he had not breathed in for a long time, filled his senses.

As he arrived, people stared at him. A wolf-sized dog, accompanied by the Heavenly Thunder Hawk family perched on his head and shoulders, exuded an aura that was more than enough to draw every eye.

“Is that… is that a Heavenly Thunder Hawk?”

“It has to be. The rumors have been flying all over Zhoushan.”

“So the Little White Dragon got the Heavenly Thunder Hawk.”

“I heard he captured it but let it go, refusing to take its life.”

“And because of that, the Heavenly Thunder Hawk was so moved it pledged to follow him.”

Words without feet travel a thousand li.

A scenario that Jin Cheon-hee had nothing to do with had already been written, finalized, and was circulating throughout Hangzhou. And because it wasn’t entirely different from the truth, it had gained even more credibility.

“Let’s call you Cheong-gu.”

The moment Jin Cheon-hee spoke, the Heavenly Thunder Hawk replied.

Pibik! — Attention all local birds! I give him a spiritual elixir, I catch him more birds to eat, and now he tries to call me by that lousy name!

Woof? — Cheong-gu is a good name. Why?

Pik pik! — That’s because you’re an idiot!

The Heavenly Thunder Hawk vehemently vetoed the name “Cheong-gu.” Being a bird, she was, as expected, much pickier than Hwang-gu.

Jin Cheon-hee furrowed his brow and fell into deep thought. He had zero naming sense.

“Then how about this? There are three of you, so one letter each… Cheon, Roe, Eung…!”

Pik! — Are you trying to be lazy!

Tsk, she caught me.

Jin Cheon-hee pouted, then went back to thinking.

A Heavenly Thunder Hawk. It was a hawk, but it had a distinct blueish tint. A faint electrical current ran through its feathers, making it difficult for an ordinary person to even stroke it. Its eyes were large and sharp, and its talons were big and sharp enough to tear through cowhide.

Miraculously, when it sat on his head, it didn’t leave a single scratch. It seemed it could control its talons.

After much deliberation, Jin Cheon-hee spoke.

“Noe-jin. How about that? And for the two babies, Cheon-jin and Nan-man.”

Noe-jin was a word that meant the sound and shape of a violent lightning strike. The phrase ‘Innocent and Carefree’ came to mind because the two chicks were playing so adorably.

Pii-iik! — I like that. What about you two?

Pyak! — I’m Cheon-jin from today on, Mama!

Ppak! — Then I’m Nan-man! Hehe!

Thankfully, he had managed to give all three names they were satisfied with.

Jin Cheon-hee cleared out a compartment in the medicine box he carried on his back and asked a carpenter to build a small nest inside for the chicks. Unlike their mother, Noe-jin, the two chicks, Cheon-jin and Nan-man, still slept a lot and needed a place to rest.

While the medicine box was being modified, he headed straight for the White Qilin Medical Pavilion’s Hangzhou branch.

‘My internal energy has reached one gapja. I need some time to consolidate it.’

On top of that, he had to send a letter informing the main sect that the Heavenly Thunder Hawk had joined him and was now under the protection of the White Qilin Medical Pavilion. This was a necessary step so that the main sect could send formal missives to the Beggar’s Sect and the Hao Sect, announcing it to the entire Gangho.

This was a critical process, as the Gangho was full of sword-wielders who tended to swing first at the mere sight of a spiritual beast.

“Aigoo, you’ve returned! As it happens, a letter arrived from the Pavilion Master.”

“Hm…? Ah, it must be the reply to the letter I sent my Master last time.”

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

For some reason, the air in the Hangzhou branch was incredibly awkward. Just then, he heard the sound of something collapsing in a heap.

After a moment, Physician Ha emerged, looking utterly haggard, and handed Jin Cheon-hee the “letter.”

Normally, a letter wasn’t very long. It had to be sent by a messenger hawk, so if it was too long, it would be too heavy to carry. But what arrived was, in modern terms, something akin to a 54-page Buddhist sutra, written in 7-point font.

“This is… from my Master?”

“Yes… it is. Also, many messenger hawks and martial artists… arrived.”

“They’re… from the Dragon Phoenix Assembly, aren’t they?”

“Yes. That is correct. Furthermore, letters from the Ximen Clan, the Namgung Clan, the Wudang Sect, the Zhongnan Sect, and finally, the Tang Clan, also arrived.”

“What on earth happened?”

At Jin Cheon-hee’s question, Physician Ha just nervously darted his eyes. Behind him, the Senior Physician rubbed his face with a dry hand. He clearly had something to say but was desperately choosing his words, terrified of the consequences. Finally, he spoke.

“The White Qilin Divine Physician… expressed that he is terribly worried about his disciple, and… requested that you write many letters confirming you are well. He… implored… that you send letters filled with your heartfelt feelings, confirming your well-being, at least until he has finished treating all the patients from the Dragon Phoenix Assembly.”

…Just what in the blue hell was happening at the Dragon Phoenix Assembly?

“It appears that the successor of the Sichuan Tang Clan has arrived at the meeting, and unfortunately, there are numerous injuries.” Another physician nearby added, “We’ve heard that while they’ve primarily focused on treating sword wounds, the Tang disciple is now using whips and poison simultaneously, making the treatment quite challenging.”

Jin Cheon-hee finally understood the full picture.

‘I see. If they want to keep their own precious children and darling disciples in one piece, they have to hold onto the White Qilin Divine Physician, no matter what…’

It was a grand battle. And the deciding factor in that battle was, in the end, Jin Cheon-hee’s own safety.

Dragon Phoenix Assembly, my ass. Nine Sects, Eight Clans, my ass.

Knowing Zhuge Rin’s personality, he wouldn’t give a damn about any of that. Of course, it was all important to some degree, but surely not more important than his disciple’s well-being. His Master would not stop until he knew his disciple was safe.

‘For the leaders of the Nine Sects and Eight Clans to write me letters like this… what in the world is my Master doing?’

Were they not the legendary dream team capable of vanquishing even the mightiest sword under the Heavens? This time, an even more precious prize was at stake: the very essence of their existence, their disciples, who were participating in the tournament. Moreover, their Master had already harbored a “prior conviction” for abandoning the Dragon Phoenix Assembly in the past. It was evident that they had anticipated this scenario. Their desperation was palpable, raising questions about the unfolding events.

‘Master…?’

Still, it was a relief that his Master had at least received the information that he had healed and left for the Zhoushan Archipelago.

Just then, one of the Senior Physicians said, “Ah, the Tang Clan master competing in the Dragon Phoenix Assembly… I heard her whip-skill is so ferocious and her methods so ruthless that she has earned the moniker ‘Blood Whip Queen’.”

History, in part, was proceeding as written.

‘So, Tang Ah… she really did become the Blood Whip Queen.’

“She might even win the whole thing.”

“Yes. I heard she was approaching the finals. It might even be over by now.”

If Tang Ah won, it would be the first time in nearly a hundred years that the Tang Clan had produced a Dragon Phoenix Assembly champion. That alone was an immense honor. Her name would be recorded in the history of the Murim for ages to come.

‘…Right. In this world, if you’re strong enough, even that gets packaged as “genius.” Even if it comes with an obsession with bandages, black dragons, and blood.’

Tang Ah’s dark history was on the verge of becoming immortalized, thanks to her immense power. She was the greatest rising star the Tang Clan had ever produced. The Tang Clan elders were likely experiencing a complex mix of emotions: regret, pride, and pity. As they witnessed their own dark histories unfolding before their eyes in the form of Tang Ah, some of the elders were probably plagued by sleepless nights.

‘It’s a celebration. It truly is. Hahaha! Good for you, Tang Ah.’

Jin Cheon-hee decided to stop thinking about it as if it were someone else’s problem.

‘Since it’s come to this, just go win the whole thing. You’ve got this!’

***

Jin Cheon-hee borrowed a room in the branch and went inside. He needed to concentrate on answering every single question in the letter his Master had sent. He wrote down what he ate today, what he ate yesterday, and what he ate the day before. Because his Master had asked.

He also wrote down his recent injuries and their treatments, minimizing them as much as possible. Because his Master had asked about that, too.

He also worked tirelessly to embellish the story of how he acquired the Heavenly Thunder Hawk. He absolutely could not, under any circumstances, mention the Blood Cult. It was a battle on an uninhabited island, and even the fisherman who had accompanied him knew nothing. As long as Jin Cheon-hee kept his mouth shut, the story would never spread.

A beautiful, heartwarming fable of a human and a Heavenly Thunder Hawk unfolded on the letter paper. He had no idea how fortunate he was that the “100 Best Children’s Classics” didn’t exist in this world.

‘Hoo, now all that’s left is reconstructing the incident with the Ancient Wood Blood Demon.’

The rumor, it seemed, had spread far and wide. Or perhaps his Master had just dug into it with his usual obsessiveness. Since it had come to this, he had to do his best to downplay everything, leaving only the core facts.

This took another thirty pages.

He was going to have to send not one, but several messenger hawks.

Next, Jin Cheon-hee wrote about how much he missed his Master, how he couldn’t sleep at night from worrying about him, and how, unlike the warm and well-fed White Qilin Medical Pavilion, the Gangho was so very cold. Of course, he quickly followed this up by writing that this, too, was a trial to become a true man of the Gangho, and that the disciple was in awe of his Master’s grand design. If he just complained, there was a non-zero chance his Master would summon him back.

He also spent several lines detailing how he had obtained a spiritual elixir and his internal energy had now reached one gapja. This was all, he wrote, thanks to his Master’s deep and far-reaching insight. He spared no words in explaining how he had gained things in the Gangho that he never could have in the sect, and had grown stronger.

For now, the parents and sect leaders at the Dragon Phoenix Assembly were acting as a “seal” on his Master. But as everyone knew, that seal could break at any moment.

Finally, Jin Cheon-hee added that he was in awe of his Master’s sense of responsibility, treating patients even while he was so worried about his disciple. That he respected his Master and wanted to follow in his footsteps.

‘I really hope he doesn’t take this as me being a suck-up.’

But, being the doting fool he was, his Master would probably be happy to hear it.

‘This should be enough.’

As a postscript, he added that he was sending a large pearl he’d bought in Zhoushan and a coral sword-decoration from Hangzhou. He didn’t spare the ink in saying that his Master had come to mind, and the disciple was humbly presenting them.

And thus, Jin Cheon-hee’s “Sealing Ritual” was complete.

Just as a Daoist priest seals a Jiangshi with a talisman, Jin Cheon-hee had sealed his Master with a letter.

‘Even I have to admit, I wrote this one really well.’

If they were at the White Qilin Medical Pavilion, this was the kind of letter that would make his Master walk around grinning foolishly for a month, which in turn would give everyone else goosebumps and probably shorten their lifespans.

After portioning and sealing the letters, he moved on to replying to the missives from the various Clan Patriarchs and Sect Leaders.

This part was easy.

He was doing extremely well. The scenery of the Zhoushan Archipelago was lovely. A minor plague had broken out, but he had treated it, and he was happy to have been able to help the Putuo Temple.

‘The only reason I’m mentioning this is to give them material to praise the “Little White Dragon” with, which will in turn boost my Master’s mood.’

It was embarrassing to write about his own good deeds, but the situation called for it. For a patient in the terminal stages of “doting-fool-itis,” there was no better prescription.

And with that, Jin Cheon-hee finished his letters.