Chapter 48
I began my journey towards Luoyang along with Mangnyang. If it were just me, I could have easily crossed the mountains and rivers with my light body technique, but I decided to ride a horse to accommodate Mangnyang.
During our trip to Luoyang, we decided to stop by Mangnyang’s hut for a bit. It seemed Mangnyang was busy organizing something upon arriving at his small dwelling. It wasn’t just the books he owned; he was also reorganizing the informants he had hidden all over Jinrang Valley. Mangnyang had been building a clever organization with the money he’d earned from fortune-telling and consultations.
I asked Mangnyang, “With that kind of organization, you could establish a small branch, but why live so humbly in Jinrang Valley, practicing fortune-telling?”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Of course, if I had formed an information organization, I would be ten times richer than now. But information is only valuable when you have the power to protect it. If my life is at risk from a mere mid-level faction, there’s no reason for me to gather information.”
“Hmmm…”
“And I actually quite enjoy life in Jinrang Valley. I earn enough, get to read books when I want, and enjoy myself when I feel like it.” I wanted to make a sarcastic comment about wanting to have fun with women, but I held back. Instead, I picked up one of Mangnyang’s books and said, “So why were you using your master’s reputation?”
“Because I received permission. As long as I don’t tarnish his name, it’s all good.”
“Even so, impersonating him…” Mangnyang smiled wryly.
“My master is a generous man. Even if I sullied his reputation, he wouldn’t care at all. He has little interest in worldly matters. He didn’t care for honor, yet somehow he became famous.”
“Those with real skill always stand out, no matter where.” I replied.
“Anyway, the only one who can help us now is my master, Mangnyang the Sword Master. If we can get his support, everything will go smoothly.” I was curious about something.
“By the way, why haven’t you learned martial arts? Working as an astrologer in the imperial palace would have given you access to martial arts books.”
“Of course, I had the chance. But martial arts ultimately require physical practice, and a desk-bound person like me has limits. I could build internal power for health, but it wouldn’t mean much. Instead of awkwardly pursuing both literature and martial arts, I wanted to focus all my energy on my specialty.”
From a martial artist’s perspective, Mangnyang’s way of thinking was refreshing. To prioritize self-study over learning martial arts when he had the chance was unusual! But having seen his genius strategies and wisdom firsthand, I understood. He had honed his knowledge and wisdom without rest, allowing him to excel far beyond mere mediocre practitioners.
Suddenly, while tidying up, Mangnyang exclaimed, “Oh, don’t throw away the poisoned small bottle, keep it. You’ll definitely need it one day.”
“Got it.”
“Well, it’s all sorted. If you want to read a book, just let me know, I’ll lend it to you.” I skimmed through Mangnyang’s collection. Memories of studying my head off for three years came rushing back. I don’t think I enjoyed studying that much then, but looking back, it became knowledge that was essential and life-giving. If Mangnyang had collected those books, they would surely be worth studying. I pulled a volume from the shelf.
“I want to read this one.”
“<Pobakja>? Are you interested in alchemy?”
“Well, it’s said there’s a secret technique for immortality.”
The book was about alchemical practices, methods of breath meditation, and dietary regimens. It wasn’t exactly a rare volume, as even scholars would often get their hands on one or two. Mangnyang chuckled, “What people call alchemy is 99% just scams. Even the imperial family doesn’t believe in it anymore.”
“Huh? Isn’t alchemy originally about creating elixirs for immortality?”
“The goal of alchemy is to produce the ultimate golden elixir, but it usually involves mixing massive amounts of mercury. However, mercury is highly toxic, so taking medicines made through alchemical methods often leads to poisoning!”
Poisoning! That was an unexpected term associated with alchemy, and I was internally shocked. Mangnyang continued, “Real alchemy is secretly passed down among a very small number of left and right path practitioners. You can’t learn it from any old book. Yet, the methods for breath meditation in this book are quite practical.”
“Real alchemy? So does the golden elixir really exist?”
“Yes, but obtaining it is close to impossible, so just let it go.” Mangnyang said before handing me another book. “You might as well read this one instead: <Classic of Mountains and Seas>.”
“Looks like a picture book.”
“It does, but the strange creatures in this book are intriguing, so it’s worth a glance for fun.”
“I’ll read it.” Following his advice, I decided to read <Classic of Mountains and Seas> as it featured unusual place names and monsters. Having seen demons with my own eyes, I couldn’t help but feel drawn to it.
After finishing tidying up at Jinrang Valley, we headed for Luoyang. In about three to four days, we arrived in front of Luoyang Castle. Luoyang was still as impressive as I remembered from before, the lavish and enormous castle walls and the crowds left a lasting impression.
As the horse trotted along, Mangnyang tightened the reins and said, “We don’t need to enter the castle. My master is staying somewhere else.”
“He doesn’t live inside the castle?”
“He hates the hustle and bustle and prefers to live outside the walls. Besides, it would be too risky for us to go inside right now, so it’s a good thing.”
We moved southwest from Luoyang. After about five li, we reached a small village with the shrine of Yeodong-bin. Yeodong-bin is one of the Eight Immortals in Taoism, known as the Sword Saint in legend. His Taoist title is Chunyangzi, and he’s revered both in the local folk religion and in various sects of the Nine Great Sects. Additionally, he has a legendary tale of defeating a dragon with his swordsmanship, making him popular among the common folk.
When we reached the shrine of Yeodong-bin, Mangnyang dismounted and respectfully placed his offering atop the shrine’s altar, saying, “I have arrived, my disciple.”
Moments later, the shrine shook slightly, vibrating for about half a moment before stopping.
Then a strange voice called out from behind, “Elder Brother, not a good time. The master is out on business.”
I turned around to find a young man in his early twenties staring back at me. Interestingly, he wasn’t in a Taoist robe but wore humble farmer’s clothing, yet he had an unexplainable noble aura about him. Upon noticing him, Mangnyang feigned embarrassment and said, “Disciple, I’m here for an urgent matter concerning my master.”
“Who mentioned anything? He just isn’t here right now.”
Without a hint of emotion, the boy referred to as a disciple replied, “Just leave the treasure, Seven Fires, Seven Golds Line, where it is. Master has instructed that you are not to use that item anymore.”
“……!!”
Though Mangnyang was taken aback, he nodded shortly after. “Understood. Then I’ll be on my way.”
“Do as you wish then. I’ll get back to farming now.”
With that, the disciple turned away, hoe in one hand, heading off somewhere. He genuinely seemed to be a farmer. After he disappeared, I turned to Mangnyang in disbelief. “Farming? Your disciple, a top sorcerer, is actually farming?”
Farming is something ordinary people do every day. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with farming, but seeing someone who was a disciple of the continent’s top sorcerer not utilizing his power seemed bizarre.
“My disciple is self-sufficient through his farming. The neighboring folks see him as just another regular farmer.”
“Ah, so he reaps impressive yields thanks to his mysterious sorcery?”
“Nothing like that. He farms normally, without using any magic.”
“Is he under training with the master?”
“Not at all. He actually earned his license a long time ago and is recognized as a sorcerer.”
When I looked at Mangnyang, he smiled ruefully.
“He’s just that kind of person. The values of the mundane world hold no significance for my master and disciple.”
“Hmm.”
“In any case, for the time being, we have to wait in this village for my master.”
“When will Mangnyang the Sword Master return?”
“I don’t know either. He’s such a free spirit; it could take years…”
I felt that staying in this small village was a waste of time. I could be moving into full gear soon to investigate the missing Golden Eagle Guards at the imperial palace, and wasting precious time just waiting around wouldn’t be wise. However, since I had no choice, I took out silver bars and decided to lodge at the inn for the long haul.
Mangnyang remarked, “This works out well. Don’t you think it’s necessary for you to revisit your martial skills? Let’s consider this a training period.”
The Golden Eagle Guards wouldn’t be chasing after me right away. I had done enough “cleanup” and had no witnesses, so it was quite possible they would never uncover the truth even after years. I was just preparing for the unexpected.
“Everything sounds good, but I have a question. How should I address you from now on?”
This was an important issue. I’d been casually calling Mangnyang by his name, but the real Mangnyang was someone else. As I posed the question, Mangnyang answered matter-of-factly, as if I were asking the most pointless thing ever.
“Just keep calling me Mangnyang.”
“Won’t your master or disciple find that uncomfortable?”
“Those are the type of people who don’t care about such things. And since I’ve already been acknowledged to use the title Mangnyang, I took it upon myself. You don’t need to worry about that.”
Impersonation being tolerated in a disciple-master relationship! It was utterly absurd, something that could never be understood in a typical sect.
“Hah, well, what’s your disciple’s name?”
“Cheon Woo-jin.”
“Interesting name.”
“He may look plain, but he’s a fierce one. Treating him as an enemy is like taking on a hundred-thousand-strong army!”
Mangnyang’s disciple Cheon Woo-jin seemed to be a formidable figure, contrary to his appearance as a regular farmer. I had no reason to provoke unnecessary trouble, so I would heed Mangnyang’s advice.
From that day on, my routine revolved around aimlessly eating and sleeping, occasionally practicing my martial arts at the inn. I had already paid almost a year’s worth of lodging, so the innkeeper was bending over backward to please me.
“You might as well take care of your business.”
Mangnyang said that and went to read a book. I practiced martial arts for three hours a day and used any leftover time to cultivate my internal energy. Mangnyang seemed to be studying diligently with his nose in books too. Not wanting to feel entirely ignorant, I stole moments to read the <Classic of Mountains and Seas> I had borrowed from Mangnyang.
Even so, time stretched on, and I found myself staring blankly at the blue sky from the inn’s window. Day after day, it felt like I was spinning my wheels, and I began to sense my mind dulling. A significant amount of time had passed; it had already been almost ten nights, yet Mangnyang the Sword Master hadn’t shown any signs of arriving.
……
I was engulfed by a strange feeling I hadn’t experienced since my reincarnation. I felt heavy, bored… and oh-so-bored.
Time just kept dragging on. A month passed, then two, and by now, we were entering the third month. The Golden Eagle Guards hadn’t come after me, and the world remained eerily quiet. I found my training becoming less of a priority, managing only one hour of basic practice a day, while spending the leftover time lounging around the inn or admiring the scenery.
This didn’t feel like the right kind of situation.
I had originally planned to train harder during this waiting period to level up my martial arts skills. But as time stretched languorously, and nobody interfered or spoke to me, I found it impossible to focus on training. It was in stark contrast to when I worked hard in sparring and honing my skills as a military officer.
It wasn’t until I entered the sixth month that I realized the reason behind it.
My willpower wasn’t particularly strong. If nobody supported me, even my firm resolutions would fizzle out, and soon I would just end up goofing off. I seemed to have been living abnormally dedicated this whole time. I had somehow devolved my martial arts training into a far more casual routine while rolling around at the inn and stuffing my face with dumplings.
And then one day, Mangnyang remarked, “Baek Woong, haven’t you gained some weight?”
“……”
He was right. I had hardly moved, occasionally practicing my internal techniques, but mostly indulging in the inn’s chicken, wine, and dumplings daily. My belly had become somewhat rounded and was now demonstrating its presence. I hurriedly responded, “Well… this can be fixed if I just move around a bit.”
“Don’t let yourself get lazy. If you’re that bored, why not chat with my disciple?”
“Cheon Woo-jin?”
Mangnyang’s disciple, Cheon Woo-jin, was cultivating a small vegetable patch by the village stream. I hadn’t really engaged much with him over the past six months, so my relationship with him felt stagnant.
“Well, it’s not like I really have anything to do.”
That was true. Mangnyang’s sudden suggestion to meet him surprised me, but since I had no pressing matters, I decided to drop by.
‘I should take the <Classic of Mountains and Seas> book with me.’
When I arrived, Cheon Woo-jin was busy digging up potato roots. Crouched down, moving his hoe expertly, he looked like nothing more than a regular farmer. I greeted him. “Hello.”
Cheon Woo-jin stared at me and replied, “… Baek Woong, you’ve got a bit of a belly.”
Why do disciples always have to point out a guy’s belly? I felt a little irritated inside but brushed it off and replied, “Did I ever tell you my name? How do you know who I am?”
“Well, you told me before.”
“What?”
Cheon Woo-jin grinned. “You’re still dreaming. I’ve seen enough of your true self, so it’s time for you to wake up.”
Wham!
In the blink of an eye, I sensed the scenery shift before me. Suddenly, I was back in the shrine standing before Yeodong-bin, just as I had been when I first arrived in this village. Mangnyang was placing the Seven Fires, Seven Golds Line on the altar, and I was watching from behind. It was exactly as it had been that day, and I was taken aback.
‘What the?! Has time gone backward?’
But that wasn’t it. Another voice came again from behind.
“Did you have a nice dream?”
Cheon Woo-jin was walking toward me. Mangnyang appeared confused, but at that moment, chills ran down my spine as I noticed Cheon Woo-jin holding the book <Classic of Mountains and Seas> I had been reading. For the past half-year, I had accidentally spilled some chicken broth on the cover, and the stain was still there.
I finally understood. Illusion technique! Cheon Woo-jin had shown me, in an instant, the life I had spent the last half-year in a dream! I could hardly believe I was standing there, breathing in reality. Or maybe this moment itself was also an illusion?
When on earth did I fall under the spell? Was it when I entered the shrine? When I spoke with Mangnyang? Or did it happen while I was living in the village? I didn’t even know when I had fallen into an illusion.
‘Oh no…’
What was even more shocking was the fact that my belly was genuinely protruding right now as a result of half a year of indulging and lazing about. It seemed that the illusion could even affect reality!
‘This is… terrifying!!’
As I was horrified by the power of the illusion, Cheon Woo-jin said, “Elder Brother, I just tested our visitor. Since you don’t have any magical power, I didn’t cast any spells on you, but I made the one who accompanied you feel a half-year of life.”
“Gah!”
Mangnyang was astonished. He had no clue what had just transpired as Cheon Woo-jin casually spoke.
“To avoid exposing my master to pointless risks, this was unavoidable. Well, this Baek Woong is not an evil person at heart.”
As I looked at Cheon Woo-jin with a bewildered expression, he gazed at me intently and pointed with his hoe. “You don’t qualify to see my master. There’s a strange malevolent aura circulating within you. Until you shake off that aura’s source, you have no right to enter the village.”
Wham!
In an instant, I found myself standing outside the village with Mangnyang. We were both confused, blinking in surprise. After a while, Mangnyang finally grasped the situation and spoke to me.
“The disciple has issued us an expulsion order.”
In Mangnyang’s hands, the Seven Fires, Seven Golds Line had vanished.
……
It was my first encounter with true left-path sorcery. I couldn’t trust my senses or instincts at all!
I explained to Mangnyang in detail what had happened. He shook his head as if there was nothing to be done.
“My disciple’s specialty is illusion techniques. The life you’ve spent for half a year was all just an illusion, simply a fleeting daydream.”
“But my belly is really sticking out!”
“That’s the terrifying part of Cheon Woo-jin’s illusion. He has the ability to blur the line between reality and illusion.”
It was a truly fearsome ability. Any boastful performance of my martial arts would be futile against him. With just a flick of his wrist, he could wipe out a hundred-thousand-strong army with that bizarre spell.
“At this rate, it would be impossible to enter that village for the rest of my life.”
“What does he mean by the source of malice?”
“I don’t know. But there must be a reason my disciple has rejected us so forcefully.”
It was then that a thought flashed through my mind.
‘Could it be…?’
Heavenly Secret! When it came to malevolent aura, that was the only thing that came to mind. It was almost certain. Cheon Woo-jin had undoubtedly sensed the presence of the Heavenly Secret. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have been so adamant about expelling me.
But where would I have left the Heavenly Secret? It was a vital object tied directly to my past life, and I could never part with it.
‘What do I do now?’
Mangnyang sighed in exasperation. “Ah, this is serious.”
He had no ability to withstand an excellent sorcerer. Sorcery belonged to the realm of divine abilities and was beyond what human wisdom could contend with. To break through the illusions of the most competent sorcerer in the Central Plains would be an impossible task.
“If we can’t enter that village, we won’t achieve anything. Wasting time here risks the chance to investigate the Golden Eagle Guards.”
A moment of decision was drawing near for me.