“Then I shall take my leave to handle other matters. Please enjoy your time.”

The Senior Sister, who also bore the weight of Hall Leader for the Silver Blood Hall, rose from her seat with a bright, practiced smile.

Thump.

She closed the door with firm finality.

Jin Cheon-hee stared at the wooden barrier she had put between them. “She seems angry, doesn’t she?”

“It can’t be helped~ Senior Sister is beginning to feel content with the current situation. That is a risky way to end up in our line of work.” Sama Hyeon shrugged, his demeanor nonchalant. “Our business is one where progress is the only way forward. If you halt or attempt to reverse course, you’ll meet your demise. The moment substantial amounts of money begin to flow in is precisely when you must remain the most vigilant. If she gets angry at me but raises her guard as a result, it’s a profitable trade.”

His senior sister was sharp with calculations, but as long as she was human, complacency was inevitable. Sama Hyeon couldn’t take responsibility for her life forever.

So he’s deliberately drawing a line. But Hyeon-ah, that’s not a method someone your age should be using.

It was proof of just how many trials he had survived within the unforgiving hierarchy of the Golden Blood Chamber.

“Earlier you were thinking of something else, and now you’re looking at me with pity? Hyung?”

“Because it’s heartbreaking. My little brother… you’ve grown up well.”

Jin Cheon-hee reached out, stroking Sama Hyeon’s hair with genuine affection. Accepting the touch, Sama Hyeon chuckled softly.

“Good, good. I like sympathy from Hyung. Look at me more pitifully.”

This guy had zero pride. Then again, thinking back to the original novel, Sama Hyeon—the future Leader of the Hao Sect—rarely cared for such trivialities. To him, pride was just another social signal, a tool he would often exploit to tear people apart piece by piece.

“Uh, you’re not going to kill me later, right?”

“What kind of nonsense is that, Hyung?”

Usually, when someone like him swallowed their pride, they came back later to slit your throat while whispering, ‘You bastard.’ Paradoxically, that was the most terrifying thing about Sama Hyeon.

***

Beneath the layer of medicinal herbs in the gift box lay a handkerchief embroidered by Jin Cheon-hee himself, a return gift for the one Sama Hyeon had given him in the past. Beneath that layer lay a hair ornament.

Since Sama Hyeon enjoyed changing his accessories and dressing extravagantly, Jin Cheon-hee had put considerable thought into preparing this. He had designed the ornament himself and commissioned a master craftsman to forge it. It was wrought from gold, with a White Dragon pattern engraved in silver on the surface. The design was subtle and cunning; the dragon only revealed its claws and scales when the light hit it at a specific angle—the closer you looked, the more luxurious it appeared.

“There’s a needle hidden in the center. You can use it for anesthesia,” Jin Cheon-hee explained.

“Can I use it as a hidden weapon?”

“Yeah. And if you urgently need pain relief, you can use it on yourself.”

Whether anesthetizing an enemy or sedating an ally thrashing in pain, anesthesia was useful everywhere.

How very Hyung-like.

Jin Cheon-hee continued his explanation. “You can replace the liquid cartridge by twisting it like this. Just try not to use strong acids if possible. It might corrode the internal mechanism.”

Click.

Sama Hyeon marveled at the device. How did his brother even come up with things like this?

“Ooh. And what about the rest?”

Opening the bottommost layer revealed a small dagger.

“I use the Ice Clarity Sword for combat, but I find myself using the Black Pine Cloud Sword more often in daily life.”

“True. You use it a lot when cooking.”

“Right. It’s good as a hidden weapon, too. If you’re hit by a poison arrow and need to urgently excise the flesh, heat this up and use it. It’ll be easier if you stick the anesthesia needle into the affected area beforehand.”

“I see.” Sama Hyeon nodded, turning the blade in the light. “Did you carve this box yourself, Hyung?”

“Ah, yeah. I was going to order one that fit the size perfectly, but I just did it as a hobby.”

Sama Hyeon looked the box up and down before speaking. “As expected, being a martial artist doesn’t suit you, Hyung.”

“Hahaha, really?”

“Yeah.”

Sama Hyeon picked up the golden hair ornament and fastened it to the back of his hair.

Snick.

“Does it suit me?”

“Yeah. It looks classy. You look like the youngest young master of some prestigious clan.”

“Nice. I like it.”

Sama Hyeon hummed happily. Watching his sworn brother, Jin Cheon-hee spoke with sincere gravity.

“Happy Birthday, Hyeon-ah.”

“Thanks, Hyung.”

***

And so, Jin Cheon-hee bade farewell to Sama Hyeon.

Sama Hyeon had to remain behind for a while to handle the aftermath. This meant establishing the new foundation for the Golden Blood Chamber and organizing the exchange with the Training City’s 6th Branch.

And…

It’s also to settle grudges and solidify his position.

A lot had happened while Jin Cheon-hee was unconscious. His master, Yoo Ho, and Sama Hyeon were not the types to leave grudges half-settled. But just in case sparks flew in unexpected directions, Sama Hyeon intended to stay and watch over the situation.

Meticulous.

Perhaps that was what it meant to handle money—especially the empire’s black money. Sama Hyeon had said his Senior Sister was too relaxed, and thus dangerous; his staying behind to clean up was likely a safeguard for her as well.

“Oh, right. Hyung. The Guqin.”

Sama Hyeon produced a guqin with a body as dark as spilled ink and strings that shone like silver. Even at a glance, it was a luxurious instrument, yet it lacked any distinct markings to identify its origin.

“This is expensive, isn’t it?”

As if waiting for that question, Sama Hyeon grinned. “I bought it for three silver taels.”

What did that mean? It radiated an aura worth at least thirty gold taels, yet he claimed to have bought it for a pittance. That made it even scarier.

“Come on, just strum it once.”

With trembling hands, Jin Cheon-hee plucked a string.

Thrummmm—

A deep resonance soaked the air, rippling far into the distance.

“Don’t tell me this is a cursed artifact?”

“I’ll just say it used to belong to someone who used Sound Arts. I told you beforehand, right? It cost three silver taels.”

What kind of bloody history did it have to be sold for such a price? And judging by Sama Hyeon’s silence, if Jin Cheon-hee asked for details, he might refuse the gift.

“Alright. I’ll use it well.”

“Hehehe.”

Sama Hyeon seemed pleased.

“They call it the Seven Silver Zither.”

Was it because the strings were silver? The name was surprisingly plain.

Never heard of it.

Jin Cheon-hee took the Seven Silver Zither and prepared to leave.

***

By the time he returned after parting with Sama Hyeon, preparations for departure were complete.

“You received something unusual,” his master said.

“He says it’s called the Seven Silver Zither,” Jin Cheon-hee replied.

“Hmm, a plain name for what it is,” his master mused.

As his master boarded the carriage, Jin Cheon-hee mentioned the bumpy ride ahead. “Let’s take the main road, even if it’s a detour.”

Jin Cheon-hee joined his master in the carriage, while Yoo Ho and Man Seon sat in the driver’s box. As the carriage began to move, the scenery behind them started to recede.

So much had happened. He had witnessed the depths of humanity and, at the same time, the people who rose up in spite of it. Humans had inflicted upon one another an evil that could not be defined in a single word or two, yet amidst it all, some had resisted instead of yielding.

He had nearly died, too. His left arm still throbbed with a dull, persistent ache. It was manageable when he didn’t use his internal energy, but the more he circulated it, the more intense the pain became. However, it was also true that he had grown stronger than ever before. From a martial artist’s perspective, the increase in strength was an overwhelming net gain, but the pain was still a nuisance.

He’d have to solve this, too.

Lost in thought, he suddenly felt his master’s gaze.

“Master?”

“I was thinking that I must reach the next realm quickly.”

“The next realm?” Jin Cheon-hee asked.

Didn’t he already have only the Three Supremes above him? Considering his master’s age, wasn’t his current achievement already monstrous? Even the Wudang Fist Emperor had said he wasn’t this strong at that age.

His master spoke calmly. “This time, we were lucky to fight a mere lackey of the Demonic Cult rather than the Heavenly Demon themselves. But if luck turns against us and we clash with the Heavenly Demon… it would be troublesome.”

“Hahaha… If you fight the Heavenly Demon and win, wouldn’t you have to ascend as a deity?”

“Who knows,” his master said, falling into thought again before speaking up. “Let us cook tonight’s camp meal together. Is there anything you wish to eat?”

“Hmm… I think I can eat anything.”

“Then… chicken would be good. We have plenty of oil, so how about frying it?”

Fried chicken at a campsite. Jin Cheon-hee immediately latched onto the idea.

Dakgangjeong—Sweet and Sour Fried Chicken. This time, not just plain fried chicken, but Dakgangjeong!

Tonight, he would witness the pinnacle of poultry.

***

Jin Cheon-hee returned to the White Qilin Medical Pavilion, only to find a mountain of work awaiting him in the Research Ward.

His focus was on the Aspirin research, for which he had brought back two key ingredients: Tang Clan Oil from the Sichuan Tang Clan and Five Poisons Oil from the newly acquired Five Poisons Sect.

Poison, when stripped of its malice, was essentially chemistry.

Jin Cheon-hee successfully extracted salicylic acid using the Five Poisons Oil. However, the challenge lay in improving efficiency; excessive use of willow bark would significantly increase the unit cost. To his surprise, the efficiency of the extraction process exceeded his expectations. Even among willow trees, the amount extracted varied depending on the species and season, and the most efficient bark came from the Yunnan White-Neck Willow. At this rate, he was on track to meet his projected target.

The next step was straightforward. Acetic acid could be extracted from medical-grade spirits, and then it was merely a matter of synthesis. Jin Cheon-hee poured himself into the research, completing it with remarkable ease compared to the previous two drugs.

“Hahaha! Young Pavilion Master! Have we become stronger? Or is the enemy ridiculously weak?” the researchers exclaimed, crossing their arms and laughing arrogantly.

Jin Cheon-hee expressed his gratitude for their hard work and promised a bonus.

“Wooooaaah!”

“Young Pavilion Master! We love you! Arghhhhh!”

Their eyes conveyed unwavering loyalty. In both the mortal realm and the Murim, money held supreme importance.

To celebrate his success, Jin Cheon-hee organized a grand feast that day. Normally, they would have had to borrow Tang Clan Oil from the Tang Clan, but now, the Five Poisons Oil belonged to the Five Poisons Medical Pavilion. Consequently, the White Qilin Medical Pavilion, having absorbed the Five Poisons Sect’s technology and personnel, could now produce it in-house. This not only saved time and money but also seemed to erase the hardships endured at the Five Poisons Sect.

“Let’s go all the way tonight!”

“The Young Pavilion Master has granted permission—arghhhhh!”

Amidst the lively party, Mu Wol approached. “Ah, it appears I arrived at an inconvenient time.”

Jin Cheon-hee grabbed Mu Wol as he attempted to turn back. “What is it?”

“Ah, well… the task you requested last time has been completed.”

“Ah.”

Jin Cheon-hee nodded immediately and suggested they move.

The two ascended to the second floor of the Research Ward. Unlike the bustling first floor filled with the excited chatter of researchers, Jin Cheon-hee’s office was eerily quiet.

“You had requested the number of people revived by the White Qilin Divine Elixir and the White Qilin Elixir. The responses from each branch have finally arrived.”

Mu Wol placed a stack of papers on the desk.

Since Jin Cheon-hee became the Young Pavilion Master, the Pavilion’s administration had undergone a steady modernization. One of the key changes was the implementation of statistics. The most significant chasm between modern and traditional medicine lies in the reliance on cold, hard statistics; cure rates and side effects must be constantly assumed and recorded in numerical form.