Wi Jicheon returned to his room, dazed and bewildered.
Everything was exactly as it had been in his youth.
His room.
The view of the manor.
The familiar faces.
He had truly gone back to the past.
'How… how could this have happened?'
Could the Heavens really have granted his final wish?
Whatever the reason — he had been given a chance.
A chance to protect everyone in his family.
'Let's get my thoughts straight.'
He sat down at his desk and unrolled a sheet of paper.
'If the Apprentice Healer Exam is approaching, that means I'm fifteen right now. Tight timing. It would've been nice to return just a little earlier.'
Still, there was time — a small window before the Baek Clan began tightening its claws around them.
Not much, but enough.
'Roughly two or three years before the storm begins.'
He lifted his brush and wrote one word: Baek (白).
The Baek Clan — The White Healer Family.
One of the Five Great Medical Clans of the era.
And the very hand that would orchestrate every nightmare the Divine Healer Clan would suffer.
'Fortunately, the Baek Clan still has its reputation to uphold. They won't act openly, not yet. For now, they'll use others to do their dirty work.'
But that would change with time.
When the Divine Healer Clan refused to break, no matter how much pressure they applied, the Baek Clan resorted to new tactics — more cunning, more despicable, more vile.
"You're Wi Jicheon, are you not? Haha, you may call me uncle if you wish."
That snake-like voice echoed in his memory, and his expression darkened.
Before his return, he had already destroyed the Baek Clan.
Yet even now, rage boiled inside him.
'But it's not just them. The true masterminds are still out there — the ones I never saw.'
He had only one clue.
Among the enemies stood a master capable of wielding the Sword of the Heart — a being beyond the world of mortals.
There were only seven such figures.
Wi Jicheon dipped his brush and wrote seven characters: Martial (武), Sword (劍), Spear (蒼), Heaven (天), Blood (血), Overlord (覇).
Each one represented a being who ruled over the martial world — one of the Seven Titans of Shenzhou.
One of them was involved.
'I don't know… The Martial Emperor and the Sword Immortal don't seem like the type to do something like this. But given the Baek Clan's connections to the Clan Union, the Spear King seems most likely.'
No — it couldn't be that simple.
The Heavenly Immortal Divine Art, the true form of the Divine Healer Technique, was a treasure so miraculous that any martial artist would lose their sanity upon seeing it.
'Even the Martial Emperor or Sword Immortal might have been tempted. And in the worst case, the Baek Clan could have joined hands with the Evil Alliance, the Demonic Sect, or even the Blood Cult.'
It meant the entire martial world was suspect.
Still, Wi Jicheon shook his head.
It didn't matter who they were.
He would protect his family, no matter what.
'First, I have to become stronger. As quickly as possible.'
But that alone wasn't enough.
'I have to strengthen the entire clan.'
A phrase flashed through his mind.
The Greatest Healer Clan Under Heaven (天下第一醫家).
He needed to make the Divine Healer Clan powerful enough that no one would ever dare lay a hand on them again.
At that moment, he sensed movement outside and hastily brushed over the writing on the paper, hiding the words beneath layers of ink.
"May I come in?"
"Yes, Brother."
When he saw his brother Wi Jigang's face, emotion surged up his throat and almost spilled over.
He clenched his teeth to hold it back.
But Wi Jigang, unaware of his brother's turmoil, frowned as always.
"What are you doing in here? Doodling again? Have you still not come to your senses?!"
Though the scolding was sharp, Wi Jicheon felt no irritation.
If anything, he wanted to laugh.
He had missed this.
That gruff voice — hiding a heart full of concern for his foolish younger brother.
'Back then, I never understood his heart. I resented him often. It was only at the very end that I learned what he truly felt.'
"Doodling at a scholar's desk meant for studying medicine. Do you have any idea how your behavior reflects on Father—blah blah blah."
"..."
"Do you know what the disciples whisper about you behind your back—blah blah blah."
Wi Jicheon listened to the familiar nagging with an awkward smile.
He had missed this too… though perhaps he'd idealized it a little in memory.
Still—
'I love you, Brother.'
All of this —
It was good.
He would protect it. Whatever it took.
Wi Jigang had come with a message from their father.
"Your father asked me to call you. He wants to discuss the Apprentice Healer Exam. He thinks you've been under too much pressure and wonders if it should be postponed."
Their father looked at him with gentle concern.
"You think I'm feeling pressured?"
"You did suddenly tell us you loved us — surely that was because of stress?"
"He even smiled while I was scolding him earlier."
"Tsk."
"..."
The outburst of emotion that had come from reunion now made everyone look at him as if he'd gone mad.
'...Great. That's going to haunt me for years. Knowing Father, he'll tease me about it for at least a decade.'
Their father, Wi Jiseon, head of the Divine Healer Clan, was flawless in almost every respect —
except for one thing.
He could be mischievously playful.
In a rush to change the subject, Wi Jicheon spoke quickly.
"I'm fine, Father. I'll take the exam as planned."
"Hm. There's no need to overdo it. Of course, there's no precedent in our clan for postponing the exam, but records exist to be broken, don't they? Honestly, I've always thought forcing everyone to take it at fifteen is a terrible tradition."
"Be honest, Father. You're more afraid of him failing than postponing, aren't you? Imagine — a son of the Divine Healer Clan who can't even pass the Apprentice Healer Exam. What would the disciples think?"
"Tsk."
They were all worried about him, in their own ways.
'Brother speaks harshly, but he's just worried I'll lose all standing in the clan. Many disciples already dislike me. And that "tsk" from Sister Sangah… that's her way of worrying too.'
Feeling a warmth rise in his chest, Wi Jicheon shook his head lightly.
"Really, I'm fine. There are still three months left until the exam, aren't there?"
"To be honest," Father said, sighing, "I wish I could postpone it for three years instead of three months."
"Admit it, Father — even three years wouldn't be enough for me, right?"
"Tsk."
Everyone gave him a look that said, He's not wrong.
And they were right.
At this age, Wi Jicheon's medical knowledge had been atrocious.
'Even later, I never got much better. Someone once called me "the idiot of medicine." They weren't wrong.'
Even after becoming the Fiend Demon, that hadn't changed.
He'd devoted himself to revenge, not medicine.
Yet, that didn't mean he was the same useless fool.
He had surpassed the level of demonhood itself — one step short of transcendence.
He understood yin and yang, the five elements, the body's meridians and blood pathways — perhaps even more deeply than his father, the clan head.
But diagnosing and treating illness — that was a different matter.
'Honestly, I barely remember what I learned as a child. My head was empty back then, and it hasn't gotten much better.'
He fell silent for a while.
Could he really pass the exam in three months?
At this rate, failure was inevitable.
'No. I have to pass. Without it, I can't properly cultivate the Heavenly Immortal Divine Art.'
The Heavenly Immortal Divine Art.
The root of all calamity.
In his past life, he had twisted it into a dark variant — the Blood Immortal Demonic Art.
It had taken a man who once knew no martial arts and, in twenty years, raised him to a level just short of transcendence.
There was no doubt it was extraordinary.
But this time, he would learn it properly — as it was meant to be.
'The Blood Immortal Demonic Art was only a shortcut. To reach perfection — true transcendence — I need the genuine Heavenly Immortal Divine Art.'
The problem was, the Heavenly Immortal Divine Art was founded upon medicine.
To master its essence, he needed the real experience of treating patients.
And he couldn't see patients unless he passed the exam and became an apprentice physician.
As he was thinking of how to convince his family—
"Cheon, are you truly sure you want to take the exam?" his father asked.
"Father, don't tell me…"
Wi Jigang looked worriedly at their father.
The kind man was clearly wavering under his son's determination.
"How about this?" Father said. "If you stay away from the market for three months, and study at least two shijin—four hours—every single day, I'll allow you to take the exam."
"Two shijin a day… for three months?"
"Hm. Too difficult? I'll allow rest, of course. Once every seven days—no, twice! You may rest two days a week!"
Wi Jicheon blinked blankly.
'Just how pathetic was I that they consider this a difficult condition?'
Even more absurd — both his brother and sister nodded as if in agreement.
Their expressions said, There's no way you'll manage that, you slacker.
'Now that's a bit insulting.'
Three months?
When he'd trained in seclusion to master the Blood Immortal Demonic Art, he had locked himself in a mountain cave for ten years, surviving only on fasting pills.
'If this can surprise my family… maybe it'll be a bit of fun.'
His practical medical skills were lacking, yes — but in understanding the harmony of body and universe, he surpassed all others.
This time would be different.
Wi Jicheon straightened his back and declared firmly,
"Understood. In three months, you'll see. I'll surprise you all — I promise."
His family exchanged puzzled looks.
What's gotten into him now?
Father coughed awkwardly, then added with a teasing smile,
"Very well. I'll look forward to it. But Cheon—didn't you forget something?"
"…What?"
"You forgot to say you love us again."
"..."
And so, Wi Jicheon was given three months.
Three months to study medicine —
and to regain his strength.
Henan Province.
Home to Shaolin — the great mountain among mountains of the martial world.
Yet not all of Henan belonged to Shaolin. The province was vast, and the monks cared little for worldly affairs.
Beyond the peaks of Songshan, countless smaller sects flourished like weeds.
Namyang, where the Divine Healer Clan resided, was one such place.
"You want me to teach the Divine Healer Clan a lesson?"
Zhang Sam, the master of the Black Ghost Sect, a notorious dark faction in Namyang, narrowed his eyes at the visitor before him.
The guest wore the robes of a physician.
"Yes," the man replied calmly. "The Divine Healer Clan disrupts order by treating the poor for free, refusing proper payment. We need your assistance to restore balance to the medical world."