Chapter 66
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 66
Chapter Title: Everything Has a Reason
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“Camping out again?”
Mak Jin-yul, who had been grumbling and chattering all day long, now shouted as if deliberately making sure I could hear her.
She was reacting to my order to find a spot for us to camp.
“I told you, didn’t I? If you don’t like it, just leave.”
“Junior brother, kill this scholar guy.”
“Me?”
“What, you scared? If you do it, I’ll take all the blame.”
“No way. How many times have I gotten chewed out for believing you and starting something? You run off after I do the deed.”
“That was back then. I wouldn’t do that now.”
I shot back.
“A person’s nature doesn’t change. If it seems like it has, they’re just pretending.”
“I agree with that. And...”
Yuseong looked at me with a smile.
“I can’t beat Scholar Cheon anyway.”
“What kind of nonsense is that? He’s just a scholar.”
“Don’t you remember how you couldn’t move before we left?”
“That was because I let my guard down and he pulled some shady trick.”
Yuseong shook his head.
“Remember that reckless thug who called you dangerous?”
“Yeah, I do. His name was Wang something-or-other. A real vicious, sleazy pervert. And the guy was supposed to be a top-class expert, too.”
“That guy sparred with Scholar Cheon and ended up half-crippled. They said every bone in his body was broken, and he’d be bedridden for years.”
“What? That really happened?”
“Why would I lie when I saw it with my own eyes? That Wang Sim guy went around bragging he was beyond first-rate, nearing superhuman. I thought so too. And Scholar Cheon toyed with him.”
“......”
As the daughter of a martial house, Mak Jin-yul knew exactly what that meant.
Instead of backing down, her face hardened, her defiance and grudge only growing.
Yuseong saw it and grinned.
The two of them were chattering right next to me, so every word rang clear in my ears.
I spoke to Mak Jin-yul.
“Hey! Gwanghwa.”
Her cheeks twitched wildly at my words.
“Someone who goes out of their way to act nice might just be the worst villain of all.”
Sensing it was aimed at her, she barked.
“You talking about me?”
“Who’d ever think Gwanghwa is nice?”
At my words, Yuseong’s eyes gleamed.
“Has your junior brother ever fought back when you hit him? Frowned even once when you insulted him? Isn’t your junior brother kinder than a Buddha?”
Mak Jin-yul started to protest but paused, mulling over my words before eyeing Yuseong suspiciously.
“Now that you mention it, yeah. He’s never gotten mad or rebelled against me, not once. Even when I burned his hair, he just grinned like an idiot.”
What stunned her more was that no one had ever pointed this out before.
“Junior brother, what’s your game?”
“Because he’s my junior brother.”
Yuseong kept smiling, his face serene.
“You stay away from me for a while.”
Sensing something off, Mak Jin-yul shot to her feet and stormed into her tent.
Yuseong gave a sly smile.
“Aren’t you pushing me too hard just to discipline your junior sister?”
“Misunderstanding. I just wanted to give you some relief from Little Mak.”
“As expected of someone I admire.”
With those loaded words, Yuseong returned to his bedroll.
It was time to head into the tents, but Mak Ji-mong was still outside, sharing drinks with Gwan Ryong-jin.
The two seemed to have quite the bond, chatting away.
Mak Ji-mong’s expression looked brighter, too.
I’d thought he’d kick up a fuss about his inner energy dropping, but strangely, he hadn’t breathed a word about it.
As I approached, Mak Ji-mong spoke up.
“You really did the right thing coming out. Ever since leaving the main sect, my body feels refreshed. Starting last night, I’ve felt this surge of vitality coursing through me.”
Last night was when I’d pulled the Silk Scripture out of his dantian.
That’s the exact opposite of what I expected. Does he not realize what it feels like when your inner energy plummets?
I shook my head.
No way.
Mak Ji-mong wasn’t quite first-rate, but he was close, with the power and energy to match.
I tested him, approaching closer without him making a fuss.
“That could be a sign something’s wrong with your body. I know medicine pretty well—want me to check your pulse?”
Before, he would’ve unleashed a torrent of curses at such a suggestion.
Someone who saw scholars as mere servants would’ve lunged to kill at the mere mention of pulse-taking.
“Huh? Scholar Cheon’s skilled in medicine?”
“Yes. He was famous even in the Murim Alliance and Nangong Family.”
I spoke humbly, without arrogance, and Mak Ji-mong tilted his head.
Back in the Present Heaven Sect, we’d always bickered and raised our voices at each other.
I smiled.
“Now that we’re out, and you have so many underlings from the Present Heaven Sect, how could I be rude to the young sect leader?”
Mak Ji-mong shook his head.
“No matter how I think about it, Mak Jin-yul’s no match for Scholar Cheon. If it were anyone else, I’d bet on my little sister, but against Scholar Cheon? He’d steam her and eat her alive.”
Clearly, Mak Ji-mong’s hostility toward me had eased.
“Fine. Check my pulse.”
Gwan Ryong-jin jumped at the words.
He knew full well how Mak Ji-mong had treated scholars before.
And now he was letting one take his pulse?
On top of that, ever since that incident long ago, he’d refused pulse checks from anyone—scholar or physician.
Gripping his cup, he stared at the two like a statue.
Cheon Taesan was certain now: Mak Ji-mong felt genuine closeness toward him.
The Silk Scripture had done its job perfectly.
Mak Ji-mong felt confident enough.
If the scholar tried anything fishy, Gwan Ryong-jin and his guards were right there to slit his throat.
Besides, he’d heard Scholar Cheon was indeed skilled in medicine.
Cheon Taesan took Mak Ji-mong’s pulse and infused spiritual energy.
Soon, he uncovered something astonishing.
This guy’s body is a walking elixir factory. How much did he swallow for the elixir energy to clog every meridian like this?
It was like dumping a bucket of water into a jar packed with sugar—the sugar wouldn’t dissolve; it’d just harden into a rock.
Exactly what had happened in Mak Ji-mong’s body.
That’s why even after the Silk Scripture absorbed a decade’s worth of inner energy, it felt lighter—he’d cleared some of the blockages.
At this rate, I could absorb another decade without issue. There’s still tons of elixir energy left to unclog everything. No, the Silk Scripture might be the only way to fix his body.
But one question lingered.
Why didn’t he know? The Present Heaven Sect’s physicians should’ve spotted this.
Cheon Taesan released the pulse and asked.
“Young sect leader, you’ve never let a physician check your pulse after taking elixirs?”
“How’d you know? You figured it out from the pulse?”
Mak Ji-mong was stunned.
This was a secret known only to the sect’s leadership.
Gwan Ryong-jin knew because he’d been the guard captain at the time.
“You didn’t take just one or two elixirs—why avoid physicians? Your meridians this blocked must’ve been agonizing.”
Gwan Ryong-jin spoke for the silent Mak Ji-mong.
“I’ll answer that. Long ago, a physician pretended to take his pulse and ambushed him. After that, no more pulse checks from physicians.”
Even so, he let me do it—means he trusts me more than I thought. Excellent sign.
Cheon Taesan nodded.
“That explains it. Why your body ended up like this. Every time you circulated energy, your dantian and meridians felt like they were tearing apart, right?”
“No! How...!”
He’d never told a soul.
“That pain must’ve made training impossible.”
Mak Ji-mong scooted closer to Cheon Taesan.
“Hey, this stays between us. Can’t let it leak out.”
The young sect leader’s condition wasn’t just his problem.
“Don’t worry. I set up a sound barrier beforehand.”
Only the three of them could hear the conversation so far.
Mak Ji-mong marveled at Cheon Taesan’s thoroughness.
“Impressive! Annoyingly meticulous. But is there a cure? I scoured medical texts and asked physicians—nothing worked.”
He’d tried, but without knowing the cause, no solution.
“Now I get why you’re not even first-rate. Not laziness—you couldn’t afford to train. Force it, and you’d have fallen to qi deviation and died years ago.”
Cheon Taesan scared him first, then dangled a hint of knowledge. Light flickered in Mak Ji-mong’s eyes—passion.
Cheon Taesan recognized it.
Mak Ji-mong would train all night if not for the tearing pain.
He knew he was the sole heir to the Unorthodox Supreme, destined to lead the next generation.
But realizing his body wouldn’t let him become an expert, he’d gone astray.
Anxiety, resentment, rage at his plight—vented in wrong places, leading him down an irreversible path.
An endless vicious cycle, even if he wanted to turn back.
Thus, Mak Ji-mong slowly became a thug.
It started small.
Rare elixirs offered as tribute—he devoured them all to grow stronger.
But problems arose, and unable to trust physicians, it led here.
“Scholar Cheon. Can you heal me?”
“I’m probably the only one in the world who can heal you.”
“So, can you or not?”
“Yes.”
“Hah!”
It felt like the weight crushing his chest had lifted.
“Heal me, and I’ll give you anything you want.”
Cheon Taesan smiled faintly.
“Don’t say that lightly.”
“I mean it. Word of the next Unorthodox Supreme.”
Cheon Taesan couldn’t deny Mak Ji-mong would become that, if healed.
Mak Yeo-heon would see to it.
“I already got a huge gift from the Supreme. Time to repay it.”
“That’s Father’s promise. Mine’s separate.”
“Fine, then. All I want is to be brothers with you, young sect leader.”
Unthinkingly, Mak Ji-mong grabbed Cheon Taesan’s hand—and flinched at his own action.
He was that desperate.
“The moment you heal me, Scholar Cheon becomes my sworn brother.”
“No greater gift. The next Unorthodox Supreme as my big brother.”
“Hahaha!”
Mak Ji-mong laughed heartily for the first time in ages.
“Makes me truly grateful to Father now. Bringing Scholar Cheon as my writing tutor. I resented him plenty, but no more.”
Gwan Ryong-jin, watching from the side, felt his chest tighten with emotion.
As the guard captain who’d watched the young sect leader stray, it hurt.
Now, seeing him become the true heir to the Unorthodox Supreme, it swelled with joy.
He was so grateful to Scholar Cheon for making it possible—he wanted to bow in thanks.