Pung Oh-bok was lying down, being fed porridge. When I appeared, he swallowed the porridge and stared up at me blankly. I was relieved he had woken up, but his face was gaunt and pale, his eyes unfocused.
He showed no reaction upon seeing me. He stared blankly, as if seeing me for the first time, but the moment his eyes fell on the sword at my waist, he yelped and curled up under the blanket. Like a beast retreating into its burrow.
He wrapped his hands around his head and trembled, as if enduring an invisible beating. It was a serious fit, yet Physician Sang took no action. He simply watched for a moment before covering him with the blanket, then picked up the porridge bowl and spoon and stood up.
We went out to the wooden porch together and entered the pharmacy, where pouches of herbs hung in clusters from the ceiling. Physician Sang sat across from me and offered a cup of warm medicinal tea.
“He’s past the worst of it. His wounds are healing well, and once he recovers his strength with good food and rest, he should be up in a few days.”
“He didn’t seem to recognize me. Is he alright?”
“His mind is still clouded.”
“Could he be suffering from madness? He recoiled at the sight of my sword.”
Physician Sang shook his head.
“It’s a sickness of the heart.”
“A sickness of the heart…”
I understood the words, but not what they truly meant.
“Listening to his ramblings while he was unconscious with a high fever, it seems the boy was an assassin for hire. He kept sobbing, saying he was sorry, that he was wrong, begging for forgiveness. It seems he saw the people he killed in his dreams. He kept muttering about the mountain of blades hell.”
Physician Sang’s voice was as heavy as his expression.
“The guilt of killing people, a primal revulsion to murder, must have been eating away at his heart. He seems to have suppressed it somehow until now, but with his body and mind weakened, everything that had piled up burst out at once.”
Pung Oh-bok was smaller than Gu-sam, and only twelve years old. I, too, killed for the first time around that age. A fake relative who had kidnapped me and sold me to a gambling den, yet continued to extort money from me and beat me.
I hacked that bastard to death with a kitchen knife. I felt no guilt whatsoever. He deserved to die.
I haven't kept count, but I have committed quite a few murders since then, making a living with a single blade in hand. The act of killing a person affects the killer’s mind and body in some way. I had suffered from fevers and nightmares, and was tormented by guilt.
Still, it was never enough to trigger a sickness of the heart like Pung Oh-bok’s. I somehow managed to shake it off and walk this far. What was the difference between Pung Oh-bok and me? Was it because I was cold-blooded, while Pung Oh-bok was gentle and good-natured?
That was probably not the whole story. I took up the sword of my own will and became a martial artist. All I had to do was survive on my own.
Pung Oh-bok was different. The future of his entire family rested on the boy’s small shoulders. That was why, when a sword was forced into his hand, he couldn't bring himself to let it go.
It would have felt like abandoning his family’s future. Every time he heard news that his brother had begun his studies with the money he sent home, and that hope was blooming on the faces of his family, he must have secretly gritted his teeth. As he tenaciously stabbed people to death, drenched in their blood.
“Have you seen this kind of heart sickness before?”
Physician Sang looked at the glowing embers in the brazier with a regretful expression.
“I saw it often when I was in the north. Many soldiers who survived brutal battles could never hold a spear again. Just seeing a spear or a sword would make them retch or turn pale and tremble. Their bodies instinctively rejected killing. They were all beheaded under military law. The commanders cared little for the wounded hearts of their soldiers.”
Physician Sang turned his gaze toward the room across the hall where Pung Oh-bok was lying.
“Even when that boy recovers his body and mind, he will have to live with the aftereffects of this sickness for the rest of his life. He might tremble and have seizures just from watching a chicken being butchered with a kitchen knife. Still, I have to do what I can. What is your relationship with the boy?”
“Is the medicine fee not enough?”
I had paid one silver tael when I left Pung Oh-bok in his care. Bringing someone back from the brink of death and treating a sickness of the heart would surely cost more than that.
“It’s not that. I was wondering if I could look after him for a while. It’s not easy for even family to understand this kind of illness. They usually mistake it for madness, and all hell breaks loose with tears and wailing. If the reason he’s been forcing himself to do something he hates is for his family… his condition could worsen. If the pent-up frustration boils over, it could turn into true madness. Then, even I won't be able to help.”
If Pung-chil heard the news, he would rush over and cling to his son, wailing. It would be better not to tell him for now.
“Let’s do that.”
The mood had become too heavy, but what needed to be done still had to be done. I took a small wooden box out of my bundle. When I opened the lid, the fresh, dewy scent of grass spread through the pharmacy, which was filled with the smell of herbal decoctions.
“Do you know what this is?”
Physician Sang took the Lake Water Lotus Herb in his hand, examined it from all sides, and nodded.
“Seeing the condensed natural energy, it seems to be a spiritual herb. The roots are excessively numerous, the stem is short, and the leaves are wide, so it looks like a lotus herb. I’d say it’s of mid-to-high grade.”
“Can you process it?”
“Hmm.”
Physician Sang stared at the Lake Water Lotus Herb for a moment, then glanced at me. He seemed to have many questions. What did I do with all the pills he had processed before?
This was the third time, so where did I get all these precious spiritual herbs? But like a physician who had dealt with many sword-wielding men, whether soldiers or martial artists, he didn't show it and chose his words carefully.
“Two silver taels. Come back in ten days.”
* I had met the long-awaited Jeok Chu-yeong and confirmed that he was alive. However, I had not been able to find out the whereabouts of Sister Soso and the villagers. It wasn't that I had gained nothing.
The Black Night Gang had stabilized under Bok Ha-gyu. Since I had an amicable relationship with him, I could visit frequently to check on Jeok Chu-yeong's condition. Having another connection besides the Underworld Information Clan would be a great help in living in the Western Village from now on.
The reaction of the Hidden Force was also unusual. Could I have been mistaken? What if it wasn't a reaction to my inner energy, but the Hidden Force naturally awakening as Jeok Chu-yeong woke from his slumber?
It was a plausible assumption. If the Hidden Force had reacted to my inner energy, it should have gone berserk. But nothing happened.
The fact that the Hidden Force did not react when I lifted Jeok Chu-yeong on my back and circulated my inner energy again supported this assumption. But if, by some miracle… just one in a million chance, the Hidden Force did react to my inner energy but didn't go berserk… There was only one possible reason.
The inner energy used for the Hidden Force and the inner energy I had cultivated were identical, so there was no rejection. This meant that the absolute master who struck Jeok Chu-yeong with the Hidden Force could be from the Blue Mountain Sect. Of course, the possibility was extremely low.
I could be sure if I performed a direct transmission of true energy to Jeok Chu-yeong, but if the Hidden Force went berserk, that would be the end. Besides, I didn't know how to perform a direct transmission. I had only received it a few times from Do Gwang-il.
I would be able to confirm it when Do Gwang-il returns next spring. The internal arts master who had sealed the Hidden Force in the energy core had diagnosed that Jeok Chu-yeong had three years left to live. Two of those years had passed meaninglessly, and now only a little over a year remained.
Which sect did that internal arts master belong to? I had known before that inner energy was precious. Having personally acquired and used it, I realized it was more than just precious.
What could he have possibly received in return for using his own life-like inner energy to save the leader of a dark path faction? No matter how successful the Black Night Gang was, would it be possible to hire such an internal arts master with the income from the Western Village?
There wasn't much to review from the fight with Seon Do-mu. It only reaffirmed the fact that I needed to end fights quickly to conserve inner energy. I had entrusted the Lake Water Lotus Herb to Physician Sang for processing, and I brought the Sun Element Sword home.
I was about to ask the Underworld Information Clan to sell it, but I suddenly remembered the sword technique of the Sword Sect that Do Gwang-il had shown me. I had tried it a few times with my long blade and put it aside, thinking it didn't suit me.
Now that I had a decent sword, I should practice the sword technique a bit before I forgot it completely. I didn't like the Sun Element Sword from the start, with its gaudy gold decorations on a blue background. Swords were best when they were as plain and inconspicuous as possible.
No matter how lavishly decorated, it wouldn't help in a fight. On the contrary, it would only attract more people who coveted it, causing trouble wherever I went. I stood in the courtyard and drew the sword.
Shhring.
The clear ring of the sword. The gentle vibration of the blade felt quite pleasant. The blade, boasting a pure white sharpness, was clean without a single nick.
When I swung it randomly, the center of gravity was also exquisite. It was a good sword, but I felt a pang of regret. If a long blade had been made with the white lotus iron that went into this, something even more magnificent would have been created.
Holding the Sun Element Sword, I took the opening stance of the Jade Spring Sword Technique. Fortunately, I hadn't forgotten the forms. When I performed the sword technique with the long blade, something felt awkward.
When I should have been cutting with vigor, it felt bland, and in thrusts, the focus of the sword path was lacking. Performing the sword technique with a sword definitely felt different. The cunning techniques unique to sword arts shone with precision.
It was sharp and powerful, but it felt somewhat dishonest. Indeed, the sword did not suit me. I felt a renewed sense of pity for the unknown seniors of the Saber Sect who had incorporated the thrusts of sword techniques into the Heavenly Steel Saber Technique.
After reviewing it a few times, I circulated my inner energy and moved on to the supreme secret art, the Immortal's Leisurely Ten Thousand Swords. It seemed that the Saber Sect and the Sword Sect did indeed branch from the same root.
Even though it was the inner cultivation method of the Heavenly Steel Saber Technique, my inner energy flowed smoothly with the movements of the Immortal's Leisurely Ten Thousand Swords. The Immortal's Leisurely Ten Thousand Swords contained the martial principles of the Blue Mountain Art, transcending forms, and flowed languidly like a sword dance.
It was just as it had been when I first saw it—still vague and difficult to understand. I couldn't comprehend it at all. Far from realizing the martial principles contained within the form of the sword, my doubts about whether I should continue this only deepened.
Still, I endured and focused on the sword technique. Even Do Gwang-il, who had reached the realm of Body-Flickering, had learned all eighteen forms, both the first and latter, of the Heavenly Steel Saber Technique in order to transcend the saber technique and reach the Blue Mountain Art.
I still had a long way to go to neglect my sword training just because it was not fun. As I was repeating the Immortal's Leisurely Ten Thousand Swords for the ninth time, I felt someone approaching from beyond the wall. I sheathed my sword and headed for the gate.
“Great Hero! Delivery… Gak! You scared me.”
As I threw the gate open, Gu-sam leaped like a frog and landed on his backside. I smirked and offered him a hand.
“For someone called Young Hero Gu, you should at least be able to sense someone approaching.”
Finding it awkward to see Pung-chil’s face, I had started ordering delivery again instead of going to the Wind River Inn. He had arrived about an hour earlier than usual, and there was a good reason for it. Gu-sam was not alone.
“Ooh, so this is where you live?”
Tang Hye-seo appeared suddenly from one side without a sound.
“What is it? Why are you here?”
“Why else? You didn’t come to the Wind River Inn, so I came with him.”
Tang Hye-seo picked up the fallen bundle from the ground and entered through the gate.
“That’s my meal.”
“I packed for two. I haven’t eaten yet either.”
I looked at Gu-sam, and he nodded with a meaningful smile.
“Yes. It’s for two.”
“Hmm.”
I looked back and forth between Tang Hye-seo and the food bundle, then scratched my head and went through the gate. It was the first time I had a guest other than Gu-sam. And a woman at that.
It was quite awkward, but Tang Hye-seo was unfazed.
“It really is the house of a man living alone…”
Her reaction was subtle, a mix of disappointment and relief. While Tang Hye-seo and I ate in the room, Gu-sam practiced his fist and foot techniques in the yard. Looking through the window, I could see that his posture and forms had become quite proficient, a sign of diligent practice.
Eating stir-fried vegetables and meat, Tang Hye-seo explained the recent developments.
“You know we sent carrier pigeons from Sichuan to the area around the Western Village, right?”
“Did you find it?”
“No. That black market merchant from before had nothing to do with any carrier pigeons sent this year. So, I need to stop by the Black Night Gang.”
I looked up from chewing a piece of chicken.
“Why the Black Night Gang?”
“The carrier pigeon might have gone there.”
“Isn’t there also the Dragon Sky Escort Agency in the Western Village?”
“My aunt is going to the escort agency. It seems she has a longtime acquaintance there and has already spoken with them.”
Tang Hye-seo’s eyes sparkled, burning with determination.
“I heard the Black Night Gang is controlled by someone named Bok Ha-gyu? I heard you two are close?”
“We’re not close. We’re just acquaintances.”
“Then, please introduce me.”
I was not at all keen on the idea. The process of confirming whether a carrier pigeon from Sichuan had arrived at the Black Night Gang would be anything but amicable. It would involve interrogation, pressure, and threats.
“I don’t think they’ll like it.”
“Still, wouldn’t it be better if I went? If my aunt gets involved, she’ll try to resolve it the Tang Clan’s way. You know how we are, right?”
“Hmm. Alright. Let’s go together.”
After a somewhat chaotic meal, we all left the house together. When we reached the bustling streets, Gu-sam returned to the inn. Tang Hye-seo and I headed for the Black Night Gang.
As we approached the main gate, the gang member guarding it recognized me.
“Welcome.”
“Is Master Bok inside?”
“He is.”
Watching the tall, thick gate open easily, I was reminded of my first day back home. Guided by Gu-sam, I had entered the back alleys and only seen the main gate of the Black Night Gang from a distance.
I had no intention of entering, nor could I. Not even a full year had passed, yet now I could come and go as I pleased. So much had happened in just a few months. After passing through the main gate, a waiting servant guided us to the Crouching Dragon Hall.
Bok Ha-gyu’s face looked as if a weight had been lifted in the past few days.
“You’re here? I was just about to send word. Good timing.”
“Don’t tell me something happened to Master Jeok?”
“The master is the same. The internal arts master I mentioned before is here.”
“Huh?”
“He said he wanted to see you once.”
Bok Ha-gyu, who had been speaking in a slightly excited tone, paused when he saw Tang Hye-seo standing next to me.
“Who is this young woman?”
“A member of the Tang Clan, staying at the Deep Fragrance Pavilion.”
“My name is Tang Hye-seo. I’ve come on behalf of the Sichuan Tang Clan to ask the Black Night Gang a few questions.”
“The Tang Clan?”
Bok Ha-gyu’s expression was clearly one of displeasure. Every martial artist knew of the Tang Clan’s temperament and their cruel methods. Even most unorthodox factions were careful not to get entangled with the Tang Clan.
Getting stabbed was bad enough, but being poisoned to death was a truly miserable way to go.
“Alright. I don’t know what this is about, but I’ll hear you out. For now, I need to talk with my friend here.”
Bok Ha-gyu had a servant guide Tang Hye-seo to the guest room. The internal arts master who was interested in me was leisurely drinking tea in a small room next to the master's bedroom. He wore a loose black robe and a straw hat with a wide brim that completely hid his face.
Bok Ha-gyu showed the utmost respect to the man in the straw hat. I also gave a cursory salute, cupping my fist.
“This is the benefactor who treated the master’s Hidden Force. And this is the friend I told you about.”
The internal arts master did not lift the brim of his straw hat. He was probably examining my face through a small gap in the hat. He seemed extremely reluctant to reveal his face.
Without any introductions, he asked abruptly.
“I heard you escaped the Black Night Gang carrying Master Jeok. Did anything happen on the way?”
The deep, dry voice of a middle-aged man clicked into place somewhere in my recent memory. I had heard that voice before. Where had I heard it?
“What kind of thing do you mean?”
The man in the straw hat was silent for a moment before continuing, his words probing and cryptic.
“It’s just a slight change, but Master Jeok’s condition seems to have improved.”
I flinched.
Not because he said Jeok Chu-yeong had improved. I remembered who it was. This was not my first meeting with this internal arts master.
I had seen him before. We had even worked together. The one-night journey chasing the traitors on Tang Hye-seo’s request.
The incredible master who had deflected all the hidden weapons thrown by Tang Do-hun and subdued him in an instant. The house guest of the Underworld Information Clan, staying at the Deep Fragrance Pavilion, the one Won Seo-gang was wary of because he was impossible to read.
That monk, whose name I didn’t even know, was sitting before me, his face hidden by a straw hat.