"This one is Sa-Chil-Tang — the Four-Seven Decoction. Effective for resolving phlegm and suppressing retching."
Wi Jisang-ah, who usually spoke curtly, paused midway through her explanation.
She probably thought Wi Jicheon hadn't understood.
"Resolving phlegm and suppressing retching means—"
"I know. 'Resolving phlegm' refers to dissolving accumulated mucus, and 'suppressing retching' means easing nausea, doesn't it?"
"You? How do you know that?"
"…Even if I've been neglecting my studies, I at least know such basic terms."
'Honestly, what does she take me for?'
Anyone who could read the characters could infer the meaning.
Though, come to think of it, in his previous life, he hadn't known even such simple terminology.
Perhaps he truly had earned his reputation as the family fool.
"What's the cause of the phlegm and retching, then?"
Wi Jicheon paused to think.
Though he had been a peerless martial master, martial cultivation didn't exactly cover the origins of disease.
Still, since perfect understanding of one's essence, energy, and body was fundamental to cultivation, he could make an educated guess.
"…Wouldn't it be stagnation of the Seven Emotions (칠정)? When the emotions fail to flow harmoniously, phlegm accumulates in the body, leading eventually to nausea."
Before he could finish—
Clatter!
Wi Jisang-ah dropped the spoon in her hand.
Her eyes had gone wide as full moons.
"You—you're not really Cheon, are you?"
"…You know I've been studying late into the night recently."
"So you weren't just wasting lamp oil?"
She was so shocked she actually spoke in full sentences — something rare for her.
Wi Jicheon decided to press his luck and ask what had been on his mind since earlier.
"What herbs are used in this decoction?"
"Cha-so leaf, Banha root, Hoguk bark, Songtae stem, and Yukgeuk fruit."
He looked over the ingredients.
Most were unfamiliar, but from their energies, he could roughly infer their roles.
'Cha-so has a cooling nature, likely meant to soothe the overactive emotions, while Hoguk, with its earthy essence, replenishes the heart and mind damaged by distress…'
But one herb puzzled him.
Or rather — he suspected its role, yet something didn't quite make sense.
"This Banha root — what is its purpose?"
"To promote circulation of the Seven Emotions."
"Doesn't that overlap with Songtae's nature? In this quantity, it might overstimulate the emotions. How do you balance that?"
"..."
Wi Jisang-ah froze.
Then she stared at him — unblinking.
'Oh no. Did I just put my foot in it?'
Wi Jicheon grimaced.
He had asked purely out of curiosity, but it could have sounded arrogant — as if he were questioning her expertise.
Of course, she would have already accounted for such things.
But then—
"How did you know that?"
'Huh?'
Her eyes were blazing.
To anyone else, that fiery glare might've seemed murderous. But Wi Jicheon recognized it — it was the look she had when she was excited.
"When I use Sa-Chil-Tang, patients usually improve, but there are rare cases where the phlegm stagnates again during recovery… Why didn't I think of that? It's not even written in the Pharmacological Secret Codex! If I reduce the Banha dosage— no, better yet, replace Songtae with another herb…"
She began muttering rapidly, words tumbling from her mouth like a waterfall.
Then she suddenly stopped.
"Sorry. I got carried away."
"It's fine."
Wi Jicheon smiled warmly.
Most people misunderstood this eccentric side of her.
But he never had.
In fact—
"I've missed this."
"…What?"
Ah.
"I mean, it's been a while since we've talked like this, hasn't it? You've been busy ever since you started managing the Pill Pavilion."
"…You're acting strange."
She turned back to her work, mumbling to herself about Cha-so leaves and Banha roots.
But Wi Jicheon knew — she was just hiding her embarrassment.
'I missed you too, Sister.'
A quiet, awkward warmth lingered in the air.
After a while, Wi Jicheon cleared his throat.
The timing felt right to bring up what he'd been planning.
"Sister, could you examine a recipe for me?"
"A recipe?"
"Yes. I once came across a pill formula in the marketplace. I'm not sure if it's genuine, so I wanted your opinion."
As mentioned before, it was forbidden for apprentices who hadn't passed the Healer's Examination to compound medicines in the Pill Pavilion — no exceptions, not even for the patriarch's own son.
'But it doesn't have to be me who makes it, right? If my expert sister does it for me, that's perfectly fine.'
Jisang-ah frowned.
"You shouldn't touch strange recipes. Most of them are cons."
"I know, but I'd appreciate it if you'd just take a look. I'm not entirely convinced either, but it sounds plausible. I'd feel better if you checked it."
Perhaps his display of insight earlier had impressed her, because she didn't scold him further.
Taking her silence as agreement, Wi Jicheon recited the formula he remembered.
As he spoke, Jisang-ah's eyes widened further and further.
'Got her.'
Wi Jicheon grinned.
The martial world was thriving.
Countless masters roamed the continent, and the prestige of the great sects was higher than ever before.
Righteous factions proclaimed their ideals of justice, while countless dark sects rose in response, hidden in the shadows.
Such prosperity inevitably led to one thing — the flourishing of medicine.
After all, martial artists lived by the sword.
The more battles, duels, and accidents occurred, the greater the demand for healing.
And martial artists, for all their strength, were surprisingly prone to injury and illness — not only in life-or-death battles, but during sparring, grueling training, and sleepless cultivation.
It was said that those who reached the pinnacle realm were free from disease — true.
But most never reached that height.
The limit for ordinary geniuses was the first-class realm, and even that was beyond the grasp of most.
The majority of the martial world consisted of second and third-rate warriors — men who wore their bodies down day by day, leaving them all the more vulnerable to sickness.
And so, the medical profession flourished.
Healer clans sprang up everywhere — it was an age of medicine's golden bloom.
There were so many physician families that people began classifying them by rank:
Heaven Rank (天級) — the five greatest medical families, whose fame resounded across the martial world.
The Baek Clan of the White Healer, mortal enemy of the Divine Healer Clan, was among them.
Star Rank (星級) — families that shone like constellations, dominating their respective provinces.
Earth Rank (地級) — the cornerstone healers of cities and large regions.
In Namyang, the Two Benevolent Houses were such families.
Village Rank (鄕級) — small local clinics serving towns and villages.
So where did the Divine Healer Clan stand?
'At best, Village Rank. A minor family even in Namyang.'
Hard to believe.
Once, they had been the greatest under Heaven.
But it was true.
'They just fell behind the times.'
Not in skill — far from it.
In fact, only a few years from now, his siblings Wi Jigang and Wi Jisang-ah would be hailed as the Twin Dragons of Medicine, proof of their family's excellence.
The problem lay in their philosophy.
'They devoted themselves to saving the people, not to profit.'
As martial and medical circles prospered, why did the Divine Healer Clan decline?
Because ordinary folk didn't bring wealth.
'Herbs are expensive. Only the rich can afford proper treatment.'
So while the affluent martial artists could pay handsomely, the common people could not.
During their golden age, the Divine Healer Clan could afford generosity — the rich came from across the continent, paying in gold, allowing them to treat the poor freely.
But the Baek Clan had adapted swiftly.
They stopped treating commoners altogether, catering exclusively to the wealthy — and thus remained among the Five Great Families.
The Divine Healer Clan, true to its principles, refused to abandon the people.
And with each passing generation, poverty consumed them, until they were forced out of their ancestral home, surviving now only on the outskirts of Namyang.
'But that ends now. I've returned.'
Wi Jicheon looked into his pocket.
Inside lay a single pill — the Tae-Sodan (Grand Vital Essence Pill) his sister had crafted.
As expected of a prodigy later known as the Flower of Medicine, she had perfectly recreated the elixir from his vague description.
It would only grant two or three years' worth of internal energy, but even such meager power could be a mighty weapon in the right hands.
He was on his way back to his room when he ran into his father.
Wi Jiseon wasn't alone.
"Cheon, come greet this guest. This is Lord Zhang Sam, master of the Black Ghost Sect."
'A demonic sect?'
Not all physician clans refused to treat the unorthodox, of course — only those tied closely to the righteous sects.
Most healers treated any patient who came to their door.
Still—
'Why would someone like him come here? Even a minor sect master wouldn't normally visit our humble clinic.'
The Divine Healer Clan mainly treated the poor.
Their herbs were cheap, their facilities modest — no rich man would step foot here.
And most of all—
'Those eyes.'
He had met countless demons in his past life.
And one glance told him this man's heart was steeped in darkness.