The Choyeon Heart Sutra
Ouyang Qiangang opened his eyes at the sound of knocking on his door.
Hwang Nodae's voice followed from outside. "Young Master, the Second Young Master is here to see you."
Sitting up in bed, Ouyang Qiangang slipped the silk pouch containing his jade token into his sleeve and answered, "Send him in."
The door opened, and Gu-yang Cheon-gi stepped inside. He sat down across from Ouyang Qiangang, glancing nervously toward the door as he spoke. "Brother, are you all right? You looked rather tired in the great hall earlier, so I came because I was worried."
Ouyang Qiangang found himself puzzled. He's only twelve by my count, yet his manner of speaking is remarkably composed. Is this what the bloodline of a great clan amounts to—even when everything's falling apart? But his eyes are nothing like they were in the great hall.
In the great hall, the look Gu-yang Cheon-gi had shown him had been cautious and guarded—the careful gaze of a boy under his mother Dong Yeon-hwa's watchful eye. Now, however, he was looking at Ouyang Qiangang with warmth as open as his little sister Cheong-cheong's.
So he coldly kept his distance in front of Dong Yeon-hwa because he couldn't show me affection there?
Of course, Ouyang Qiangang let none of this show on his face. The body might have been a boy's, but the man inside it was a thirty-eight-year-old who had seen it all.
"I'm fine. You know better than anyone the state I'm in."
"That's true, but..."
"So did you really come just because you were worried about me?"
Gu-yang Cheon-gi broke into a bright smile, his whole face lighting up with excitement. "That's part of it—but I wanted to give you something special for your birthday."
"I've already received a precious gift from Father."
"Mine isn't so much a gift as... something I've been dying to share with you. It's the clan's martial art."
Ouyang Qiangang was genuinely startled. "Have you forgotten that my body is incapable of training in the martial arts? It's the very reason Father has never taught me any."
"I know. Still, you're the eldest son of the main family. It just doesn't seem right for you to know nothing at all of our clan's martial legacy."
"Hmm."
While Ouyang Qiangang hesitated, unsure how to respond, Gu-yang Cheon-gi—without a moment's doubt—drew a small booklet from inside his robe. "Brother, this is a secret manual containing our family's hidden core technique, the Choyeon Heart Sutra."
Doctor, the Choyeon Heart Sutra is one of the Four Great Martial Arts that survived the Great War of Righteous and Demonic within the Ouyang Clan.
The Four Great Martial Arts?
Yes. The Choyeon Heart Sutra, the Thirteen Forms of the Limitless, the Thirty-Six Swords of the Limitless, and the Seventy-Two Wind-Wall Breaking Swords.
Hmm...
Before the Great War of Righteous and Demonic, it appears to have been an introductory art learned before training in the true secret techniques. My assessment puts it just short of the Peak Realm—upper-tier First-rate, at best. Regardless, I recommend accepting the manual. The principles of a martial art can become genuinely valuable intelligence.
Ouyang Qiangang took the book. Across its cover, four characters were written in crisp, unmistakable strokes: Choyeon Heart Sutra.
"As you know, Brother," Gu-yang Cheon-gi said, "the main family lost all of its core secret arts long ago, during the Great War of Righteous and Demonic."
Seeing Ouyang Qiangang nod silently, he pressed on. "Father says that of the internal energy cultivation methods that remain, the Choyeon Heart Sutra is the most profound. I know you won't be able to train in it yourself, but I believe even understanding the theory would help you. You're a genius the likes of which the world has never seen, after all."
Ouyang Qiangang could feel the boy's sincerity, and something tightened in his chest. He answered with a gentle smile. "Thank you."
Gu-yang Cheon-gi appears to genuinely love his brother. It is only because of his mother that he cannot show it openly.
I was thinking the same thing.
Gu-yang Cheon-gi's expression turned grave. "You do understand that Mother must never, ever find out you know about the Choyeon Heart Sutra, right? If she catches us, she might order me into a hundred days of closed-door training in the practice chamber."
The boy is young, but he understands exactly how dangerous what he's doing is. If it were ever discovered that he'd smuggled out a family secret manual, it might not end with a mere hundred days of seclusion. And yet he's taking that risk for my sake. This is hardly something I can write off as childish recklessness.
Ouyang Qiangang raised a hand and ruffled Gu-yang Cheon-gi's hair. "Don't worry. I'll be careful."
A shadow of sympathy crossed the boy's face. "Father has been searching for Seongsu Hwata for years now, trying to cure your illness. He says that if only he can find that man, you'll be able to live a healthy life."
"Seongsu Hwata? You're saying he can cure the Nine Yin Severed Meridians?"
"Yes. I once overheard Father and Mother talking about him."
Gu-yang Cheon-gi's eyes gleamed as he went on. "Seongsu Hwata is one of the Three Great Divine Physicians of the world. They say he's reached the realm of a god when it comes to healing strange internal injuries and rare diseases. But he's turned his back on the world and lives in seclusion deep in the mountains, so he's terribly hard to find."
"Ah!"
Composing himself with adult-like gravity, Gu-yang Cheon-gi continued. "Brother, you know the old saying—where there's a will, there's a way. Father is trying that hard, so I'm certain even your chronic illness will be cured someday."
Gu-yang Cheon-gi rose, checked for movement outside, and said, "I should be going."
"All right. And thank you—truly—for the Choyeon Heart Sutra."
After the boy had gone, Ouyang Qiangang turned to Akasha. Akasha, what exactly are the Nine Yin Severed Meridians?
Is there really something you don't know, Doctor?
I'm not like you—I don't keep an entire database of martial arts novels on file.
According to the information I've gathered from martial arts fiction, the Nine Yin Severed Meridians is an extremely rare condition that occasionally appears in people of exceptional genius. A tremendous cold energy accumulates in nine major blood points, gradually freezing over the entire meridian network. In the end, the patient does not survive past the age of twenty.
That's a terrifying disease.
Ouyang Qiangang gave a wry smile and pressed on. Akasha, do I really look like someone fated to die young?
Heavens, no. You will overcome the Nine Yin Severed Meridians and achieve eternal life.
Eternal life is pushing it. In any case, I have to find a cure for this disease. I have no idea who this Seongsu Hwata is, but if he hasn't been found by the time I turn twenty, that would be a genuine catastrophe.
Quite so. I will help you.
Ouyang Qiangang smiled and unfolded the Choyeon Heart Sutra.
While it may be difficult for you to train in martial arts directly, Doctor, understanding the principles of internal energy will aid your comprehension of how energy operates in this world.
I agree.
Ouyang Qiangang began to read. The manual contained detailed explanations of breathing techniques, meditation methods, and the art of controlling the flow of qi.
About two hours later, Ouyang Qiangang closed the final page and murmured to himself. This reads almost exactly like the cultivation methods passed down through Taoism on Earth.
Back in his days on Earth, martial arts and athletics had been the last things Lee Jin-woo ever touched. Acquaintances who knew this had recommended training methods that demanded little physical movement—danjeon breathing, meditation, the like. He'd been too busy to keep it up for more than a few months, but the practice he'd done back then was helping him grasp the Heart Sutra now.
I reached the same conclusion. This world's internal cultivation methods share a great deal with Earth's meditation and qi-gong training—although, of course, here it is actually possible to manipulate real energy through that cultivation.
Ouyang Qiangang decided to try cultivating the Choyeon Heart Sutra. Even if his body was unfit for true martial training, performing the basic breathing exercises seemed like it would be no problem at all.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he began regulating his breath exactly as the book described. A deep inhale, a slow exhale... in the darkness, only his even breathing echoed quietly through the room.
As his breathing practice deepened, his body loosened and his mind gradually settled into stillness.
How much time had passed?
Doctor, I am detecting subtle changes in your vital signs. This breathing method appears to be affecting your nervous system.
Pay no heed to whatever Akasha was saying, Ouyang Qiangang kept his focus fixed on his breath. As the manual instructed, he concentrated his awareness on his danjeon—and there, he felt a warm sensation beginning to stir.
And once more, time slipped by.
At some point, Ouyang Qiangang sensed something moving within his danjeon. It was as if a tiny droplet of water had seeped out of his danjeon and was now crawling, languid and slow, along the Great Meridian that ran like a sash around his waist.
A minute flow of energy has been detected within your body. It appears to be the energy referred to as qi.
Startlement and joy rang out clearly in Akasha's voice.
But that feeling lasted only a moment.
The internal force circulating along the Great Meridian shifted toward the Thrusting Vessel—and then, as though it had struck some invisible barrier, it suddenly began to flow backward.
In that instant, an extreme cold swept through his entire body, like an ice pick tearing its way through his veins.
Ouyang Qiangang's lips turned blue in the space of a breath, and white frost began to bloom at his fingertips.
Crack-crack-crack—!
His limbs twisted without mercy, and an impact crashed over him like his very consciousness plunging into an abyss. A dark shadow of death slowly crept across his contorted face.
Nghhhh...!
Ouyang Qiangang could not even manage a scream. It felt as though he had been sentenced to the ancient Chinese punishment of dismemberment by five tortures.
Thankfully, he did not lose consciousness. Far from it—his every nerve stood taut, as if he were balanced on the point of a needle.
Doctor, you must not lose consciousness! If you let go of your mind now, you will fall into qi deviation and be crippled for life!
The reversal... in system terms, it's an uncontrollable feedback loop. I have to stabilize it. One way or another...
Even through the extremity of the agony, he fought to hold his mind together. Akasha's voice—uncharacteristically laced with urgency—reverberated through his skull.
Doctor, the energy waves are extremely unstable! Focus your consciousness on your danjeon! According to the theory in the manual, it is absolutely essential for stabilizing the energy!
Instinct took over. Ouyang Qiangang chanted the formulas of the Choyeon Heart Sutra under his breath and poured his focus into his danjeon, desperately gathering the rampaging, backflowing qi and sealing it within.
Only the fact that his reserves of internal force were as meager as dust saved him—had there been even a little more, he would have spiraled beyond all control, unable to escape qi deviation. The situation had been precisely that critical.
The cold energy gradually sank and subsided, and his internal force began collecting steadily within his danjeon.
Drenched head to toe in cold sweat, Ouyang Qiangang opened his eyes, his face hollow with exhaustion. Ugh... Akasha, I nearly died just now...
But unlike him, Akasha's voice was remarkably bright.
Doctor, that was—while exceedingly faint—undeniably qi energy. And the nanobot system reacted to it.
...You're not even going to worry about me?
I was not especially worried. I believed you were more than capable of pulling through a crisis. And according to my analysis, your survival probability was 87.4%.
Was that unwavering faith something to be grateful for? Somehow, it felt profoundly unjust instead.