The Five Overlords and the Divine Thief's Trail

A short while later, Ouyang Qiangang opened his eyes and withdrew the needles in the reverse of the order he had placed them.

"Pavilion Master, today's treatment is finished, so you may dress her now. Once I complete the final session tomorrow, Miss Nok-ju will regain her consciousness."

"...Thank you for your efforts, Young Master."

Cheon-hyang Seon-ja gazed at him with awe in her eyes and went on. "Would you care to join me for a cup of tea? I have a blend that works wonders for fatigue."

"Gladly."

They moved to a separate tea room, where Cheon-hyang Seon-ja personally brewed a pot of precious Dragon Well tea. As she poured, she studied him with a subtle light in her eyes.

"How does a man with medical arts as extraordinary as yours remain unknown to the world until now... Today, at last, I truly understand the saying that the world is wide and hidden dragons are many."

Her words were no empty courtesy. Watching the needlework Ouyang Qiangang had unfolded, she had been genuinely captivated.

"You flatter me."

"Might I ask under whom you studied such miraculous medicine?"

"I never had a proper master. While struggling to manage the illness of my own body, I delved into medicine on my own, and by chance came upon a few old records from which I gleaned what I could in my own way. That is why my art is still so crude."

His words amounted to a polite refusal. "If your medicine is crude, Young Master, then every physician under heaven ought to close his doors."

"Hahaha."

With no fitting reply available, Ouyang Qiangang could only laugh awkwardly. Cheon-hyang Seon-ja did not press further. She, too, knew the ways of the murim well, and she understood all too clearly how foolish it was to pry into a secret someone wished to keep.

Ouyang Qiangang changed the subject. "Pavilion Master, even when I said I could treat her, you never asked what illness had felled Miss Nok-ju. Did you already know its name?"

Cheon-hyang Seon-ja nodded slowly. "Yes. I did."

"As I thought."

"Since you have treated her, I take it you know it as well?"

"I do. Miss Nok-ju's affliction is no ordinary illness. As far as I can tell, it is a form of sorcery known as the Submerged Soul Silk."

"That's right. Haah..." A long sigh escaped her, and for an instant a thread of cold killing intent flashed across Cheon-hyang Seon-ja's eyes. "The Submerged Soul Silk is a secret art of a sect that won legendary renown through its sorcery. My junior martial sister bore an old grudge against them, and they struck her down from the dark."

"I take it you would rather not name that sect."

"It is a place that would profit you nothing to know, Young Master. They are cruel people who can bring calamity down on a man for nothing more than knowing their name, so I ask your understanding in my silence."

"Hmm..." After a moment's thought, Ouyang Qiangang said in an even tone, "I plan to leave my family estate around the end of next spring and travel the murim. You know far more than most, Pavilion Master, so I would ask your counsel."

Cheon-hyang Seon-ja's eyes widened slightly. "Is it wise for a man suffering from illness to journey the murim?"

"I have no trouble looking after this body of mine."

"The more we speak, the more mysterious you become, Young Master."

"When you gild me to my face like that, I hardly know how to respond."

At his sheepish look, she smiled lightly and opened her mouth. "Just how much do you know of how the murim flows today?"

"My circumstances have not allowed me to spare the outside world much attention, so I know almost nothing."

"Then I suppose you have never heard of the Five Overlords of the World."

Ouyang Qiangang asked back, "The Five Overlords of the World... That is a name I have never heard. Please enlighten me, Pavilion Master."

Setting down her teacup, Cheon-hyang Seon-ja regarded him with deep eyes and began. "The Five Overlords of the World is the name given to the five great powers that in practice rule the murim of today."

"Hmm..."

"There is the Azure Heaven Martial Alliance, hegemon of the righteous path; the Heavenly Evil Hall, master of the evil path; the twin symbols of the demonic path, the Demonic Cult and the Sovereign Demon Fortress; and the fifth and final power, the Great Merchant League — the alliance of the world's five great merchant houses, which counts your maternal family's Gold Pagoda Mountain Manor among its members."

At her last words, the light in Ouyang Qiangang's eyes sharpened. So the Gold Pagoda Mountain Manor belongs to the Great Merchant League... That road is a long one. Without letting his thoughts show, he asked about something else.

"Pavilion Master, by the Azure Heaven Martial Alliance, do you mean the Murim Alliance said to have been formed during the Great Righteous-Demonic War?"

"That's right." Cheon-hyang Seon-ja nodded. "It began as a temporary coalition the Nine Great Sects and the Ten Great Clans built to stand against the Demonic Cult, yet even after the war ended it never disbanded. Now it has grown into a colossal power that dictates the very order of the murim. Their domain almost exactly matches the Central Plains territories the Nine Great Sects and Ten Great Clans once ruled."

Ouyang Qiangang asked again. "Then why are the Demonic Cult and the Sovereign Demon Fortress spoken of as two separate powers? Are they not both forces of the demonic path?"

A faint smile rose to Cheon-hyang Seon-ja's lips. "Most people see them as one, but their roots and their aims diverge in subtle ways. The Demonic Cult is a fanatical religious order that worships the 'Sacred Flame,' and it holds the continent's south in its grip — Guizhou, Guangdong, Guangxi, and their like. They were the main actors of the Great Righteous-Demonic War as well."

She paused, then lowered her voice a touch. "The Sovereign Demon Fortress, by contrast, pursues nothing but pure martial force and the way of hegemony — and almost nothing about it is known. People say it rules somewhere, but only a handful in all the world know its true face."

"Then what of the last of them, the Heavenly Evil Hall, master of the evil path?"

"The Heavenly Evil Hall is every bit as secretive as the Sovereign Demon Fortress." Strangely, a faint disgust had seeped into Cheon-hyang Seon-ja's voice as she went on. "No one even knows where their head temple lies, or how large their strength truly is. They are shadows that move in unseen places. If you journey the murim, Young Master, you must guard against them more carefully than anyone."

Her explanation laid bare, with perfect clarity, the vast board of the murim that Ouyang Qiangang would one day have to face.

The next morning, Ouyang Qiangang returned with Cheon-hyang Seon-ja to Nok-ju's quarters. A faint haze of rest-incense, kept burning through the night, still lingered in the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠room.

Cheon-hyang Seon-ja stepped toward the bed, moving with practiced ease to undress Nok-ju — but Ouyang Qiangang raised a hand to stop her.

"There is no need for that today, Pavilion Master."

"Ah! What a relief."

Ouyang Qiangang explained calmly. "Yesterday's procedure gathered all of the sinister energy scattered through her body into a single point — the Mingmen acupoint at the small of her back. Today I need only remove that, so there is no need to survey every meridian as I did yesterday."

Her eyes brightening at his words, Cheon-hyang Seon-ja nodded.

"In exchange, you must seat Miss Nok-ju upright on the bed and support her firmly from behind so that she does not collapse."

"Understood."

Cheon-hyang Seon-ja did as he instructed, sitting the unconscious Nok-ju upright, then braced the girl — who kept sagging forward — against her own chest and fixed her posture in place.

Ouyang Qiangang folded himself into a cross-legged seat behind Nok-ju's back. He took one deep breath, then carefully set his right palm against the Mingmen point where the Submerged Soul Silk's sinister energy had gathered. Akasha, are you ready?

Within his mind, the three-dimensional neural map Akasha projected unfolded in full. On that map, crouched near the Mingmen point, the Submerged Soul Silk glowed as a red and ominous mark.

As Ouyang Qiangang circulated his internal energy, the mighty drawing force of the Transcendent Formless Divine Art welled up from his palm. The Submerged Soul Silk's sinister energy, condensed at Nok-ju's Mingmen point like a bead of black ink, was sucked in through his palm like iron filings drawn to a magnet. In his dantian, the revolving furnace of the Transcendent Formless Divine Art purified the malignant energy and burned it away without a trace.

I know. Begin.

At Akasha's direction, the nanobots already permeating Nok-ju's body scattered to every corner of her brain and spinal nerves. On the map in his mind, the countless neural pathways severed by the Submerged Soul Silk lit up like banks of red warning lights.

Ouyang Qiangang drew out his internal energy finer than a strand of hair and sent it flowing into Nok-ju's body through his palm. Guided by the nanobots, his true qi traveled with unerring precision to the damaged synapses. There the nanobots seized and held both severed ends of a nerve in place, and into the gap Ouyang Qiangang poured his life-infused qi, stimulating the severed nerve cells and coaxing them to regenerate.

It was like soldering two snapped wires back together with a solder of life — a process of extreme delicacy and danger, a procedure that had crossed into the realm of the divine and would have been impossible without Akasha's aid. With every synapse he joined, thick beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. When this grueling labor of purification and regeneration was done, Nok-ju would at last be able to wake from her long sleep.

How ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠much time had passed? The procedure that had begun in the morning did not end until the sun hung low in the western sky.

When it was finished, Ouyang Qiangang lifted his hands from Nok-ju's back and spoke to Cheon-hyang Seon-ja. "The treatment is complete. Miss Nok-ju will wake soon."

Before the echo of his words had even faded, a miracle occurred.

"Mmm..." With the low moan, Nok-ju's long lashes — motionless for months — trembled like the beat of a butterfly's wings. A faint color began to return to her pallid cheeks. And then, ever so slowly, her tightly sealed eyelids struggled open.

Her eyes, meeting the light of the world for the first time in months, blinked and slowly gathered their focus — then turned toward Cheon-hyang Seon-ja, who was gazing down at her from her side.

"...Senior Sister?" The voice was as parched as a rice paddy cracked by drought.

"Nok-ju! Nok-ju, are you coming back to us?"

Cheon-hyang Seon-ja, clutching Nok-ju's hand, felt her eyes blur with a film of moisture. She turned her head and looked back at Ouyang Qiangang, still seated and soaked in sweat. Her eyes held a gratitude as deep as it was sincere.

Before long, Nok-ju slipped back into sleep. Leaving her in the care of her maids, Cheon-hyang Seon-ja guided Ouyang Qiangang to her tea room. As she poured the Dragon Well tea she had brewed with her own hands, she spoke.

"I will not forget this debt for as long as I live, Young Master. And now the time has come to honor the promise I made you."

"I'm glad I won't have to wait." Ouyang Qiangang smiled and inclined his ear.

Cheon-hyang Seon-ja spoke. "The man said to possess the Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Iron is the Ghost Hand Divine Thief, a great master thief of the murim who vanished without a trace forty years ago, during the Great Righteous-Demonic War. And the last place he was ever seen was an island in Poyang Lake called Dayangsan Island."

Ouyang Qiangang's eyes flared. At last, a concrete lead on the Ten-Thousand-Year Cold Iron. But Cheon-hyang Seon-ja's tale was not yet done.

"Young Master, Dayangsan Island is a forsaken isle no one visits now, but it was not always so. There are rumors that a secret branch of the Demonic Cult was stationed there during the Great Righteous-Demonic War. You must be careful."

With a calm face, Ouyang Qiangang cupped his fists and bowed his head. "This is precious information indeed. I accept it with gratitude."

The next morning, Ouyang Qiangang left the Heavenly Fragrance Pavilion with Hwang Nodae at his side.

At the very top of the pavilion, Cheon-hyang Seon-ja stood at the window and watched his receding figure for a long time, her eyes sunk deep and still as a lake. Haah... who would have thought a bond from a past I had buried would carry on like this... Great Senior Sister, you are watching from the heavens, aren't you? It seems the child of your blood you left behind in this ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠world is treading past the punishment of heaven and growing into someone truly remarkable.