Chapter 87

For real, starting the next day, Cheonma came by.

When Cheonma visited the house, they’d either watch Soo-oh train or spout weird phrases claiming it was some secret teaching of the Cheonma Sin Gong martial art technique.

At first, they tried to teach me those teachings and had me attempt translations, but when I spoke what came to mind, Cheonma just stared at me like I was the dumbest human they’d ever seen.

Honestly, it was shocking.

No, but seriously—I had no idea!

The funniest part? Soo-oh started understanding it all.

Why does studying literature turn into arts and physical education? It makes zero sense. Isn’t there some catastrophic flaw in the laws of physics here?

Wait… isn’t this just how Qi or magic power works normally?

Guess I’ll just roll with it.

“Why can’t I use it?”

As I grumbled in frustration, Cheonma, sitting beside me, turned their head and gave me a skeptical look.

“Is this fake?”

“I don’t lie.”

Cheonma eyed me suspiciously for a moment before seeming to come to some realization on their own.

“Yeah… with that brain of yours…”

They told me I couldn’t use it because I’m too dense.

“Eunjai used the Sangdanjeon to channel your strength. Shouldn’t I be able to do the same?”

At my words, Cheonma sat awkwardly.

And then, right on cue, the memory of Light-Faded Guy kicked in, shining bright with the word “lotus position.” Though honestly, I don’t think it was strictly necessary.

What can you do when memories are memories?

It’s not like I have separate personalities. There’s just a chunk of memory, and its threads form my consciousness like a spiderweb.

Think of it as a universe: planets are small bits of info, the sun is central memories, star clusters are single events, galaxies are episodes, galaxy groups are school years, and superclusters are childhoods. The massive gravitational bodies? Those are memories that shape the self. And the entire universe? That includes even the faintest forgotten memories.

And the gravity spread across the whole universe? That’s my awareness.

Consciousness itself emerges from these interacting phenomena. So no, there’s no separate awareness—every little gravitational field is ultimately part of the greater whole, right?

But here’s the thing.

If the solar system represents Light-Faded Guy’s era of memories, then the countless stars scattered across the sky are memories from when everything was cold and empty. The Andromeda Galaxy would be the first world’s memories.

Most of my memories are just pain, despair, and cold—it’s hard to tell them apart. But judging by the proportions in my head, yeah, that’s about right.

Do memories glow?

That’s it. Exactly.

I was lying under the covers in bed when suddenly my brain decided, “Let’s enjoy some classic memories today!” and brought up some cringeworthy history.

Lately, these classic memories keep popping up. Must be because there’s so much in reality that triggers them.

Thinking that over, I opened my eyes halfway and looked at Cheonma, who was still sitting there.

“What’re you doing?”

Soo-oh stopped exercising mid-motion, sidestepped Cheonma, and approached me, trembling. Judging by her reaction, some energy I can’t feel must be emanating again.

“Dunno. She just spaced out. Aren’t you gonna work out?”

I pointed toward the yard, signaling she should ignore it and keep going, but Soo-oh shook her head.

“If your energy’s unstable, you could get injured or fall into Juhwaipma.”

Juhwaipma? When the flow of Qi in the body gets tangled? I didn’t fully understand, but if that’s how things work here, I guess I’ll accept it.

Soo-oh grabbed my waist tightly.

Her grip started hurting—it was getting dangerous. Time to discipline her immediately.

I tapped her forehead with my finger.

“Ahh! Oh, sorry!”

Suddenly switching to honorifics? Didn’t know she could do that.

Soo-oh flailed her hands nervously, like she forgot what to do with them.

“Control your strength. Got it?”

After I explained, she carefully approached and grabbed the edge of my clothes. Why so cautious?

Still, after an initially awkward grip, as we kept watching Cheonma silently, she eventually held on tighter like before.

But at least she’s controlling her strength. Good enough.

A little while later, Cheonma stood up.

With a dazed expression, she raised her hand, and a purple orb appeared above her palm. It began rotating, forming a ring before she clenched her fist, turning it into a thin line.

Holding onto that line, Cheonma walked to a spot behind the mansion. Following her, we saw her stand on a cliff and aim the line at a towering rock pillar across the way, swinging it around.

At first, nothing seemed to happen, but then the stone pillar slowly slid sideways.

*KRAAAAAAAANG!*

Half the pillar collapsed.

The remaining half was sliced diagonally in the middle, the cut surface smooth like glass.

Cheonma repeatedly clenched and unclenched her hand before looking at me.

“How much of your power did I take?”

Power?

I didn’t understand her question.

Sure, Cheonma also draws power from the Sangdanjeon like Eunjai does. I can’t directly feel that power, but indirectly, I can sense it through the distortions affecting the body influenced by Qi.

So I know a significant amount of power has flowed through.

And I know that power comes from me.

But…

“I don’t know. I can’t feel anything.”

There’s absolutely no sensation of it being drained. A flicker of faint fear creeps into my expression.

“I used more Qi in one go than I’ve gathered my entire life. And you can’t feel it at all?”

Even if someone gathers Qi throughout their lifetime, they’d use it during battles, so it wouldn’t be *that* much, right? Or does your total capacity and recovery rate increase as you grow stronger?

Even so, it shouldn’t be *that* much…

“At this rate, I might collapse at some point. I literally have no sensation of it.”

Cheonma stares at me intently, trying to determine if I’m telling the truth. But I am.

We’re definitely connected, but I really can’t feel anything.

“That’s fine if you simply can’t sense it. But if it’s too insignificant for you to notice…”

Cheonma paused briefly before locking eyes with me and speaking slowly.

“I’ll follow in the footsteps of the three great Cheonmas.”

Like Eunjai resisting?

But honestly, when I think about it, they all seemed old and senile to me.

So whenever they left ominous warnings about fearing me, I just shrugged it off.

Anyway, my answer is always the same.

“Do as you please. I don’t force anyone.”

Still, I believe that as long as desires lead people to me, they’ll naturally bring warmth.

“You seem almost like an immortal right now.”

“Hmm? Does that mean you figured me out? Some people check pulses by holding wrists, you know.”

Remembering how Gijacheon once hastily examined me before fleeing, I decided to bring it up.

This sparked Cheonma’s interest.

“Will you let me examine you?”

I obediently extended my arm.

Cheonma gestured toward the house. Was she suggesting we move inside? I followed her as she stepped away from the cliff toward a nearby house, leaving Soo-oh standing there staring blankly at the broken pillar.

She’ll snap out of it eventually.

We ended up sitting under the eaves where we’d been watching Soo-oh earlier.

Cheonma turned me around, lifted my shirt, and placed her hand over my heart.

Through Cheonma’s perspective, I see Choseol’s back.

She has pale skin—makes sense since Choseol is Eunjai’s descendant.

Even through Cheonma’s eyes, I can’t sense any Qi.

But I can see traces.

Just like how you can infer water flowing in a river even if you can’t see it by observing sand and mud being pushed aside, I know something is being forced into my back.

But it abruptly stops.

Right away.

Moreover, Cheonma starts trembling. Physically, there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong, yet sweat beads on her back, and her expression suggests she’s witnessed something unbelievable.

“Cheonma?”

Either she didn’t hear me or ignored me, slowly pulling her hand away from my back to stare at her palm. From Cheonma’s perspective, there’s nothing unusual about it.

What’s going on?

I turned around.

Cheonma’s face is pale.

“It’s cold.”

With that, she curled up like she couldn’t bear the freezing temperature, despite her body sweating as if it were warm. She shivers uncontrollably.

Her body feels warm, yet somewhere deep inside, she senses coldness.

Hmm.

This is familiar.

Ugh.

I grabbed Cheonma. Even though she’s not actually cold, warmth imagery might help somewhat.

Unlike me, whose cold keeps increasing endlessly.

I led her to the kitchen and placed her in front of the fire.

Since she was sweating profusely, I partially undressed her and fetched water from the jar, filling a bowl.

Still shivering despite the warmth, I called for Soo-oh.

“Soo-oh! Can you come to the kitchen for a sec?”

“Huh? Oh, sure, I’ll come!”

Not sure what she’s staring at the pillar for, but I pulled her over and pointed at Cheonma.

“Naked!”

It’s only her upper body! What’s she screaming about? Sure, she has a decent chest, but we’re both women—no reason to freak out like that, right?

Oh, is it the color difference?

No, now’s not the time to think about that.

“Go hug her. Quickly.”

“Huh? Oh… okay, got it.”

Though hesitant, Soo-oh walked over and embraced Cheonma. Her face turned bright red—she’s embarrassed.

Human warmth should calm Cheonma down.

The light’s warmth is still intact, so she’s not actually cold.

After a while, Cheonma relaxed her body but continued clinging to Soo-oh for quite some time afterward.

Once she finally stood up, she looked at me.

“There’s an endless void where boundaries dissolve, and within it, there’s not even the absence of anything. There’s no harmony because there’s no other to harmonize with. There’s no chaos because there’s no unknown to create it. What exactly *are* you? Were you ever truly human?”

Her tone still wavers; she hasn’t fully regained her senses. I handed her the bowl of water.

“Drink this first.”

Nothing beats water for snapping someone back to reality.

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