At the same hour, within the Blood Immortal Sect.

Unlike before, only voices echoed in the darkness, no trace of presence in the void. In this eerie place, they conversed.

[Heavenly Commander Dong, that fool, is finally dead. Heavenly Commander Yeo perished too, triggered by a Forbidden Spell in the Martial Righteous Alliance.]

[Two seats among our Ten Heavenly Commanders vacant at once—it’s been ages since we suffered such a loss.]

[Indeed. Not since the Kunlun incident have we taken such a hit.]

[Speaking of, there’s word that Kunlun’s defectors are heading for the Seed of the Half-Immortal[1].]

The darkness stirred at those words.

[Hoh… those guys?]

[Then it’s under that one’s orders from Kunlun?]

[Unlikely. He’s preparing for ascension, too focused to meddle in mortal affairs.]

[Heh heh heh. This’ll be interesting.]

The restless darkness calmed, voices falling silent, each with their own motives. Soon, no one remained in the void.

***

The White Dragon Medical Pavilion’s large-scale operation incurred staggering costs, but these were billed to the Martial Righteous Alliance, Unorthodox Alliance, and even the Demonic Cult in the Hundred Thousand Mountains. Far from a loss, they reaped hefty profits—far exceeding their investment.

A single sect couldn’t compare to alliances of multiple clans. Bleeding the Martial Righteous Alliance and Unorthodox Alliance dry was ruthless indeed. The Demonic Cult paid less, thanks to their insistence on the Dark Palace Medical Pavilion. Black Cloud, knocked out by Jin Cheonhee’s blow, clung to his pride, choosing Dark Palace Medical Pavilion’s care. With their leader’s displeasure clear, the cultists grudgingly followed suit.

Still, as one of the three great medical pavilions, Dark Palace Medical Pavilion’s skills were impressive. Fortunately, the Bloodborne Elder Eccentric wasn’t present—or lacked interesting patients—so no one was abducted.

Thus, a major martial world incident concluded. The White Dragon Medical Pavilion returned to their base in Jiangsu Province. River pirates dared not challenge them on the Yellow River, and the Eighteen Green Forest Strongholds steered clear on land.

“Hyung, you know what?” Sama Hyeon asked.

“What?”

“Some folks are whispering that the White Dragon Medical Pavilion might be the martial world’s top sect.”

“Pfft.”

Jin Cheonhee couldn’t help but laugh. Objectively, it wasn’t true, and even he thought they were far from it. The pavilion wasn’t a sect but a medical organization.

“That’s how martial world rumors go,” he said.

“Well, they’re guessing that because you stood firm against three factions,” Sama Hyeon replied.

Jin Cheonhee shook his head. “Not because of strength. Just… luck worked out.”

“Strategy and madness?”

“Let’s call it luck.”

Sama Hyeon burst out laughing. “Hyung, you’re hilarious. Hard to picture the White-Robed Mad Dragon who faced down those martial world monsters without flinching.”

“You dislike me being called White-Robed Mad Dragon out there, but you call me that yourself?”

“Come on, hyung, it’s different~”

Different how? Regardless, Master found Sama Hyeon mildly irritating, but Sama Hyeon’s bold personality, charm, and knack for offering gifts to Jin Cheonhee with Golden Blood’s wealth dodged Master’s ire. Jin Cheonhee marveled at his social finesse.

Truly the father of wuxia franchises… that’s how you play the game.

Yet, Master always eyed Sama Hyeon with a hint of frost. Still, on the surface, they maintained mutual goodwill. Surface-level, at least.

Surprisingly, Elder Phantom Archer was wary of Sama Hyeon. 

[The Golden Blood Chamber’s blood is made of gold, Young Master. Always be cautious.]

Seems he’d been burned by them during his ronin days. It was no surprise after all. The Golden Blood’s reputation only improved recently under Sama Hyeon’s rise. In truth, their past notoriety was fearsome.

[I warned sir Yoo Ho, but he scoffed, saying you’re not one to be fleeced.]

Yoo Ho, you sure know me too well.

Insight forged through mutual loathing, perhaps.

[Don’t worry, Hyeon’s not like that.]

[If you say so, Young Master…]

Still, Elder Phantom Archer remained wary. That’d take time to resolve.

“Master, Cheon Woo made it to Mount Wudang safely, right?” Jin Cheonhee asked.

“Hmm. Handling affairs there will take time. Probably back around when Sama Hyeon’s training wraps up,” Zhuge Rin replied.

The Wudang Sect, a pillar of the orthodox factions. Being a direct disciple of the Fist Emperor guaranteed status but demanded heavy duties.

‘He’d normally roam for training, but there’s work to handle.’

Once done, Cheon Woo would likely resume martial world training, aiming for the Transformation Realm. That suited Jin Cheonhee—Sama Hyeon and Cheon Woo practiced vastly different martial arts.

‘Can’t put all eggs in one basket. Especially for enlightenment toward Transformation Realm.’

Jin Cheonhee could guide their path to enlightenment, but the final step—reflecting on their martial learning to sprout the Bud of the Dao[2]—was theirs alone.

Speaking of, beef chop steak for lunch sounds good.

He’d whip up some Western food in the Central Plains. They’d probably call it “beef stir-fry” anyway.

***

It took half a month to return from Mount Heng to the pavilion, stopping at branch bases for business—a swift journey. Professor Jin’s first stop was to check on his “second child.”

At the martial world lab, the pavilion’s researchers froze as Jin Cheonhee arrived.

“Uh… we got the desired reaction, but we’re not sure if it’s the right strain…” one stammered.

In this era, experiments involved culturing strains vertically on treated thin paper, with test bacteria horizontally, observing intersections. Success meant the right reaction; failure meant starting over.

They seemed anxious despite their progress. Jin Cheonhee reviewed the logs, then said, “Let’s see… judging by its look, seems like the right one.”

Streptomyces griseus, from the Actinomycetes order. Had they finally isolated it?

The team’s eyes widened at his words. All that remained was comparing data and repeating experiments.

Yoo Ho, looking bored, said, “That Regeneration Spell from Wan-nong was quite helpful.”

Peering through a primitive microscope, Jin Cheonhee suddenly shed a tear.

“Minor Pavilion Master!” the senior physicians exclaimed, stunned.

They never imagined the iron-willed research king would cry. Jin Cheonhee shook his head.

“No, I’m fine. I’m just… grateful. So grateful. Years poured into this, a project that might’ve never ended…”

Why did their throats tighten at his words? The long research, the endless void of answers. Jin Cheonhee stood, bowing deeply at a 90-degree angle.

“Thank you all. This isn’t my achievement—it’s yours.”

That prideful man…

Flustered, the physicians urged, “Minor Pavilion Master, please stand!”

“We’ve earned good pay thanks to you!”

“Exactly! Got offers from great places too!”

Wiping damp eyes, they chattered, their voices warm. Even Yoo Ho felt a pang of emotion.

An endless grind, a battle against self, chasing the mad dream of expanding human knowledge under the Minor Pavilion Master. Joy came, but pain loomed larger. Only the pavilion’s wealth sustained them.

“Since we’re here, let’s eat something delicious!” one physician said.

“Yes, yes! We’re pumped for your cooking, Minor Pavilion Master. Your cooking has gotten real amazing,” another added.

Jin Cheonhee wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “Alright, let’s eat well.”

Then came words they hadn’t expected.

“Eat well to gear up! Turning this into medicine and practical use is a long road.”

“…Huh?”

Professor Jin’s eyes gleamed. “The culture efficiency’s low, with over 50% loss, so we need special processing. Recent papers mentioned a method using trace penicillin—White Dragon Pellet—with lower loss. But that’s not enough. We’ll need a full martial world approach now… starting from scratch, pioneering new ground…”

They didn’t follow, but Jin Cheonhee’s wild ramblings meant one thing.

We’re screwed…

His dreamy, hopeful gaze snapped back to clarity. “Sorry, got carried away. Anyway, what do you want to eat? I’ll make anything.”

The team exchanged glances. Tomorrow, they’d be worked to death. But, as the saying goes, even ghosts shine when well-fed.

“Cheese dakgalbi for me… with that chi… something on top,” one said.

“Cheese dakgalbi, got it,” Jin Cheonhee replied.

“Young Master, I want that square rice cake,” another said.

“Waffles? Done. Ice cream on top?”

“Huh?”

They looked confused. Jin Cheonhee lightly summoned Ice Qi.

Crunch—

A large ice crystal formed in his hand. “How about sulbing-style shaved ice?”

“Yes, yes!”

They got the gist. Each called out their desired dish. Jin Cheonhee said, “I’ll give you three days’ rest to recharge.”

“Woooah!”

The team jumped with joy. It was the White Dragon Medical Pavilion lab’s finest day.