CHAPTER 113: FACING ELDER PARK!

By the time Mo Han entered the Healing Division hall, the lesson had already begun.

Rows upon rows of disciples sat in a semicircle of wooden benches carved into seven levels, stretching upward like the seats of an arena. The scent of herbs, oils, and ground roots filled the air, and dozens of small bowls and plates glimmered with colorful mixtures under the lantern light.

At the center stood Elder Park herself, tall and imposing, draped in a deep violet robe. Her veil of authority was unmistakable, and her sharp eyes carried a weight that silenced even the boldest disciples.

She was in the middle of demonstrating a solution—two jars of herbal liquids, one emerald green, one deep crimson, poured together into a shallow dish. The moment the liquids touched, a faint golden mist rose into the air.

"This—" Elder Park’s voice rang across the tiered classroom. "—is the Red Lotus throat remedy. Remember, it cures swelling of the vocal meridians but burns the inner lungs if the dosage exceeds four drops. Precision is everything. Do not forget!"

At that exact moment, Mo Han stepped into the hall. He moved silently, wearing his calm, steady expression. But Elder Park’s sharp gaze immediately found him, and her face hardened.

"You." Her voice cracked like a whip. "Stay where you are. At the entrance."

Dozens of heads turned at once, eyes widening as they realized who had arrived. Whispering voices rippled across the benches.

"Isn’t that the new disciple who angered Lady Ku?"

"He’s the one from the Pink Blossom recommendation..."

"He actually dared to show his face here again?"

Mo Han, however, did not flinch. He bowed his head respectfully, neither ashamed nor provoked, and took his place by the door, standing. Elder Park turned away sharply, resuming her lecture as though his existence were a mere stain on the floor.

Mo Han stood calmly, arms behind his back. Though she had humiliated him, his attention did not waver. Instead, he closed his eyes briefly, drawing on the buried memories of ’Leo Reynold’ that slumbered inside his mind.

Red Lotus remedy... throat swelling... dosage ratio three to one with cooled dew water... alternate for spiritual singers...

The flood of detailed knowledge entered his mind like water flowing into a thirsty well. When he opened his eyes again, his gaze followed every move of Elder Park’s hands, every shift of the mixtures, every subtle ripple of aura she poured into the herbs. Far from being angered, he admired her skill. Her precision was remarkable, even compared to the advanced techniques of Reynold’s memories.

Elder Park, however, kept glancing at him from the corner of her eye. She had expected him to fidget, to glare back, or to look lost. Instead, she saw him listening intently, brows calm, his attention unshaken.

Why is he... so composed? A prick of irritation grew sharper inside her chest.

After a few more demonstrations, Elder Park suddenly paused. Her hand hovered over the herb tray, but she didn’t continue. Instead, she turned abruptly, her robe sweeping behind her as she pointed directly at Mo Han.

"You. Come here."

A wave of murmurs spread through the disciples.

"He’s in trouble..."

"She’s going to scold him..."

"Doesn’t she already hate him?"

Mo Han walked forward without hesitation, steps steady. When he reached the center, he bowed again with calm politeness.

Elder Park’s lips curled slightly in disdain. With a flick of her wrist, she summoned her storage ring to glow. In the next instant, thump, thump, thump—thick manuals fell one after another into Mo Han’s arms.

One. Two. Three. By the tenth, the stack reached his nose, each bound in leather and heavy with knowledge. The disciples gasped softly.

"These," Elder Park declared coldly, "are the basic manuals of the Healing Division. Every disciple studies them."

She leaned closer, her voice sharp as a blade. "You will finish all of them in one week. Only after that will you be allowed back in my classes. Fail even a single line, and you will be cast out of the Healing Division. Do you understand?"

The hall fell utterly silent. Many disciples exchanged shocked looks. A year’s worth of study compressed into one week? It was not just difficult—it was impossible.

Mo Han glanced down at the manuals, then looked back at Elder Park. A faint smile touched his lips. He bowed lightly. "I won’t fail you, Elder."

And with that, he turned to leave, holding the heavy stack effortlessly in his arms.

Gasps erupted all around.

"He... he just smiled?"

"Is he mad? That’s ten manuals!"

"No one has ever been given such an order!"

"Elder Park is targeting him... isn’t this just an excuse to drive him out?"

But no one dared raise their voices loudly. The fear of Elder Park’s wrath sealed their tongues.

Mo Han’s footsteps echoed as he walked steadily out of the hall, manuals in hand. Elder Park stood frozen for a moment, her nails digging into her palms as she watched his calm back retreating. Her anger burned hotter, yet beneath it lingered an uneasy feeling she couldn’t name.

Why does he look so confident?

Outside the Healing Hall, Mo Han finally exhaled softly. His mind replayed Elder Park’s demand.

A week to finish all this... anyone else would crumble. But for me, this is only a matter of time and focus. The memories of Leo Reynold carry more knowledge than these ten manuals combined.

His smile deepened faintly as he shifted the weight of the books in his arms. "Perhaps Elder Park wants to drive me away. But unknowingly... she just gave me exactly what I wanted."

He walked back toward the path leading to his stone house, already planning how to divide the next seven days—study, practice, and application. For him, it would not be a punishment. It would be the foundation of his path forward.

Meanwhile, inside the hall, disciples buzzed with hushed discussions after Mo Han left.

"Elder Park is too harsh..."

"But he accepted without fear..."

"Do you think he can really do it?"

"Impossible," muttered a senior disciple. "Even if he doesn’t sleep, one week is far too short. Elder Park has ensured he fails."

Yet, one younger disciple whispered differently, glancing at the door where Mo-Han had left. "But... did you see his eyes? He didn’t look scared at all. What if... what if he really can do it?"

The thought made a ripple in the hall. Elder Park, hearing it, snapped her sleeve sharply, silencing the murmurs. But her heart was not as calm as her-face.

She sat down heavily, eyes narrowing.

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