Receiving the Reward

"What are they calling us?" Dokgo Ho-in asked, unable to hold it in any longer.

"The Shaanxi Four Chivalrous Heroes."

"Ah!"

Ham Cheon-yeong let out a gasp of wonder.

The Shaanxi Four Chivalrous Heroes — four unorthodox martial artists of Shaanxi who had earned the name of chivalrous heroes. It was a title that should not have made sense, and yet it carried a strangely refreshing ring. Never in the history of the jianghu had anyone of the Unorthodox path been called a hero.

Seo Joo-cheon cupped his fists and bowed toward the many martial artists watching him from around the inn.

"I thank my fellow martial artists of the jianghu. To bestow such an undeserved title upon us…"

One of the martial artists called out.

"Each of you four has been given an individual title as well. Would you not like to hear them?"

The gathering fell silent at once, waiting for the man to speak.

A martial artist's title was not something proclaimed in public. It spread by word of mouth, whispered from one person to the next. This time was different. The former Shaanxi Four Evils had achieved such extraordinary merit that the many martial artists who had fought beside them had composed titles in their honor — titles that would soon become the names by which the entire jianghu knew them. How could anyone not be interested?

Until now, the four of them had been known only as the Shaanxi Four Evils. None of them had ever possessed an individual title of their own. The jianghu was already reluctant to grant titles to those of the Black Path or the Unorthodox Faction — and more than that, none of the four had ever been considered skilled enough to warrant one.

This time, Kang Chu-mi showed interest.

"What are they?"

A martial artist who had fought alongside them at the Gwak Family Manor stepped forward.

"Allow me to answer that."

His voice boomed through the inn, ringing off every wall. He had infused it with true qi so that every person present would hear.

They were titles that had clearly been crafted with care. Every one of them had been drawn from the martial arts the four had displayed in battle.

"Gongjak Sado…"

Ham Cheon-yeong's nostrils flared. It was the habit that surfaced whenever he was thoroughly pleased. The title was not hard to understand. When he unleashed the Phoenix Controlling Dragon Saber, his form may well have looked like a peacock unfurling its tail.

Among them, however, it was Dokgo Ho-in — who had mastered the Phoenix Soaring Heaven Sword of the Phoenix Gazing at the Celestial Void — who most fully embodied a phoenix's majesty, and so he had been given the title One-Armed Flash Phoenix. The "One-Armed" was a gesture of consideration, a way of honoring the arm he had lost rather than diminishing him for it.

Kang Chu-mi's title was the most lavish of all. Nüwa was the goddess who, in myth, had created humankind — sometimes told as the sister of Fuxi, and always depicted with the form of a serpent. It suited Kang Chu-mi, who wielded a whip, remarkably well. Even Seo Joo-cheon had to admit that her recent surge in inner power had advanced her Whip-Flying Radiance Art still further, and combined with her feminine beauty, one could almost see a goddess in her. The martial artists had exaggerated, no doubt — but not so ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wildly that it counted as a flaw.

Having been given such carefully composed titles, Seo Joo-cheon could hardly fail to offer his thanks.

"To the seniors, juniors, and friends of the jianghu who have crafted such splendid titles for us — I offer my gratitude."

The greeting was brief, but the martial artists seated at the tables rose as one and returned the cupped-fist salute.

"It is an honor to know the Shaanxi Four Chivalrous Heroes."

This magnificent scene was originally an event that should have belonged to Jang Hyeon-nam. Seo Joo-cheon could not help worrying whether he had stolen it.

It's only drifted off course by a little — not enough for anyone to notice. There shouldn't be any real harm.

With that thought, he returned to his room. His three sworn siblings, who had never in their lives possessed a title beyond the Shaanxi Four Evils, did not follow. They stayed behind, mixing freely with the martial artists of the inn.

A martial artist could only truly be said to have become one after earning a title. In the jianghu, a warrior without even a name to his name was treated as less than a wandering swordsman. Of course they would linger.

"Ah!"

A sudden exclamation burst from him as he turned the titles over in his mind. Seo Joo-cheon had just realized there was a problem he had overlooked.

Until now he had thought only of completing his Karma Missions. He had never examined them with any real care. The reward for the Karma Mission to rescue Baek I-jin had been fame and a Purple Dawn Pill.

I obtained the Purple Dawn Pill in the course of saving Baek I-jin — which means I already received the reward. The mission was structured so that the reward would come during the act of completing it. And the fame as well.

The thought widened.

Then the reward for the first Karma Mission — the one to protect Jang Hyeon-nam — was five gold ingots and a spiritual elixir.

Seo Joo-cheon called the Karma Missions to mind. Completed missions did not appear. Only those still unfinished were drawn in the empty air before him. He opened the mission that read Protect Jang Hyeon-nam and examined the reward: five gold ingots and a spiritual elixir.

The elixir is most likely Wudang Sect's Supreme Clarity Pill. That would mean Jang Hyeon-nam might be carrying it the same way Baek I-jin carried the Purple Dawn Pill. But he never produced it even when he was at death's door — which means he doesn't have a Supreme Clarity Pill at all. The elixir will come through some other route.

And he understood something else: completing a Karma Mission did not cause the reward to materialize like a game item. The world itself was arranged so that the reward would arrive naturally.

In game terms, this is a passive reward.

Watching himself adapt, little by little, to the world of his own novel, Seo Joo-cheon let out a quiet laugh.

Seo Joo-cheon was about to return to his room to circulate his qi when a voice thick with outrage rang out.

"Have you all taken leave of your senses? How can you be so bewitched by unorthodox martial artists that you hand out titles left and right?!"

The voice belonged to Daoist Go Jin. The moment a martial artist had thundered the titles of the Shaanxi Four Chivalrous Heroes with true qi, Go Jin — who had been lying on his bed — had been unable to contain his fury, and had dragged his ruined leg out into the hall.

He had achieved no merit of his own. He had only lost a leg. And now the very unorthodox martial artists he had pointed his finger at were being given ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠titles he himself had never possessed — titles the martial artists of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the jianghu had joined together to create. It stuck in his craw.

Go Jin still had no title. All he had was a single Daoist appellation. He had wandered the jianghu for years without ever finding a proper chance to make his name, and so he had become nothing more than an aging wanderer who happened to be a Daoist of the Qingcheng Sect. Even the martial artists he met tended to look slightly down on Daoist Go Jin, and he had lived his life pretending not to notice those looks. To acknowledge them would have been to lay his own shame bare.

"We must defend the pride of the Righteous martial world!"

No one had any desire to wrangle with him. They pretended not to hear, and did not even glance at the man shouting in the middle of the inn.

Ham Cheon-yeong snorted, then called out toward Go Jin.

"Daoist Go Jin — you've been given a title of your own, as it happens. Would you like to hear it?"

Go Jin, who had been in the middle of his tirade, pricked up his ears and asked back.

"Is that so? What is it?"

His character was as transparent as glass.

"I only just heard it myself, but once I did, I found myself nodding."

"So what is it, then?!"

Go Jin was practically vibrating at the news that a title of his own was being spoken. Two Qingcheng Sect disciples came forward to support him, then could not lift their heads for shame at their martial uncle's conduct.

How did a man like that ever become a Daoist? Then again, even in the modern world there are plenty of people who don't fit their posts — but a Daoist ought to have cultivated some measure of self-discipline.

Seo Joo-cheon shook his head and stepped into his room. Whatever Ham Cheon-yeong was about to say, it was not going to come out kindly.

"The martial artists of the jianghu have taken to calling you the One-Legged Taoist. In its own way, it has a certain flavor."

At Ham Cheon-yeong's words, Go Jin ground his teeth.

No martial artist ever belittled the Daoists of the Nine Great Sects or the Daoist orders. Treating them with respect was common sense in the jianghu. How grotesque must Go Jin's conduct have been, for them to call him the One-Legged Taoist?

Seo Joo-cheon opened the door to his room, and his thoughts drifted, unbidden, to the woman they had rescued. But there was no one at his side to ask about her, and if he let himself get tangled in that matter he would have no time left to circulate his qi. He went inside.

Some young woman the Undying Demon abducted from the area to satisfy his lust, no doubt. Mount Hua Sect can handle that well enough. I'll cultivate first.

He could barely move as it was. Sticking his nose into other people's business would do him no good.

Jang Hyeon-nam circulated his qi and regulated his breath, concentrating on using his newly increased inner power to drive the poison from his body.

Among Wudang Sect's inner arts were many techniques not even known within Wudang itself. The sect's history ran so deep that countless heart methods had been created over the centuries, but a fair number had never been verified for efficacy or safety, and so they sat gathering dust in the Scripture Pavilion. The martial arts the Nine Great Sects put forward as their own were those that had passed through decades of use, their side effects stripped away. If ten people trained in a technique and even one of them ran into trouble, that technique went back under review. As a result, arts of tremendous destructive power were often quietly abandoned.

Jang Hyeon-nam's master was Hyeon-gak Jin-in, Pavilion Master of the Hye-si Pavilion — the hall charged with testing precisely such techniques. Hyeon-gak Jin-in had transmitted to Jang Hyeon-nam the Cheonje Simgong, a Wudang inner art that pushed destructive force to its utmost. He had wanted to confirm and verify the technique through a disciple of exceptional talent. Someday, when Jang Hyeon-nam shook the four seas with the Cheonje Simgong, the plan was to formally adopt it as one of Wudang Sect's orthodox arts.

Cheonje — the Heavenly Ladder — was a word from legend. In the beginning, heaven and earth had been joined, and when they tore apart, a ladder had spanned the gap between them. The art's creator had named it so because it was a martial method that linked earth to heaven. Anyone who heard the name without knowing this would have dismissed it as some idle Daoist's pastime.

The Pavilion Master of the Hye-si Pavilion had the authority to transmit ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠techniques still under verification to the lay disciples he took on. Ordinarily, considering the risk of side effects, one would pass down a commonplace art. But Hyeon-gak Jin-in had looked upon Jang Hyeon-nam — a martial talent he would not meet again in his lifetime — and greed had taken him. He had taught him the Cheonje Simgong.

The Cheonje Simgong regarded the upper and middle dantians as heaven and the lower dantian as earth, binding the upper and middle into one and connecting them to the lower. It was of an entirely different order from most heart methods, which treated the three dantians as separate entities. The circulation of the meridians changed accordingly: the lower dantian drove qi primarily through the lower body, while the upper and middle dantians governed the meridians of the upper body. It was precisely this that, in theory, made possible the highest realms of movement arts — Transposition, Crossing the Eaves, Stepping on Empty Air, and the rest.

With the Cheonje Simgong, even Wudang's nearly lost Cloud-Lifting Trace was said to be attainable — a movement art with a magnificent name, "the footprints that draw the clouds along," famous as the equal of Kunlun's Cloud Dragon Great Nine Forms. The only other movement art that could be set beside those two was Shaolin's Lotus Platform Floating Cloud. But those were techniques only a handful of reclusive True Persons could still perform.

His master's face rose in his mind, full of proud conviction: You have learned only the Drifting Cloud Sword — but once you complete the Cheonje Simgong, there will not be a martial artist under heaven who can receive four of its strokes.

Jang Hyeon-nam's body lifted from the floor.

He had entered Aerial Samadhi. In the jianghu, that realm was said to require three Gapja of inner power. But because the Cheonje Simgong allowed the lower dantian to support the lower body entirely on its own, he had achieved that miracle with only one and a half Gapja.

Sunk in samadhi, Jang Hyeon-nam grasped the inner meaning of the Cheonje Simgong. His accomplishment was now several times what it had been, and all of it had begun with a single Purple Dawn Pill.

As Aerial Samadhi took hold, dark, blood-tinged fluid dripped from his fingertips. The toxic qi of the Jangdokhwe-go with which the Undying Demon had poisoned him was being forced from his body of its own accord. The bluish cast that had hung about him slowly gave way to healthy color.

A short while later, Jang Hyeon-nam emerged from samadhi and opened his eyes.

"Ah!"

Body and heart felt as if they had been born anew, so light he could scarcely believe it. Jang Hyeon-nam trembled with joy.

The moment Seo Joo-cheon completed the Small Heavenly Cycle, true qi surged up to fill him. The energy of the Human-Shaped Snow Ginseng Liquid Essence flooded his dantian in an instant and then swept through his entire body. Without that elixir, he thought, the Shaanxi Four Evils might not have survived the battle at all.

The Three Evils of Luoyang as good as saved our lives.

They had given him martial arts and elixirs both — more than generous as a reward for a Karma Mission. Had their paths never crossed, the Shaanxi Four Evils might well have died according to the original scenario. Seo Joo-cheon felt a fresh wave of gratitude toward them.

On top of that, his true qi had climbed a little further. His dantian itched, as if he were just brushing the threshold of one Gapja.

This is the Mingxuan phenomenon.

Seo Joo-cheon had written it into the novel himself: a symptom that appeared when a dantian was completed. The Mingxuan phenomenon was the reaction in which a patient taking herbal medicine would, in the course of healing, unexpectedly worsen or develop other symptoms before improving. He had described it at the completion of one Gapja, two Gapja, and three Gapja, and had set it as the standard. The dantian throbbed exactly as he had written it — a dull muscular ache, an itch so fierce one wanted to peel a scab away.

Knowing that, he found himself oddly at ease.

So this world really is unfolding according to my settings. That's a comfort.

In good spirits, he opened the leather pouch in which he had stored the Jangdokhwe-go. A porcelain bottle sat before him, one he had obtained at the inn. He had meant to keep the Jangdokhwe-go in the golden case that had held the Purple Dawn Pill, but he had returned the case to Baek I-jin, who had lost the pill. Taking even that from her would have left him feeling too sorry.

"Huh?"

He opened the leather pouch and reached in with chopsticks to pick out the Jangdokhwe-go — and it was nowhere to be seen. He turned the pouch over. There was no hole.

He was briefly at a loss. Then something occurred to him, and he gave an embarrassed laugh.

"I forgot my own setting."

He had momentarily forgotten that the Jangdokhwe-go had the ability to copy its surroundings exactly. When he tapped a copper coin with the chopsticks, several of the parasites wriggled. The Jangdokhwe-go had taken the form of coins.

If I give this to Ho-in now, he'll recoil from it. I should wait until he feels the loss of his arm keenly enough, and bring it up then.

He could not speak of the Jangdokhwe-go to Dokgo Ho-in, who had not even recovered from his internal injuries. Even if the parasite could restore his arm, it would not be true regeneration — only a copy of the shape. Dokgo Ho-in would surely turn away from it.

Seo Joo-cheon placed the Jangdokhwe-go in the porcelain bottle and closed the lid.

"Big Brother."

A cautious voice from outside. Ham Cheon-yeong had called softly, in case his elder brother's cultivation was not yet finished.

"I'm done circulating."

"Ah — then I'll come in."

Ham Cheon-yeong entered the room.

"Well now, Gongjak Sado. Come in, come in."

Seo Joo-cheon tossed out the title in jest, and Ham Cheon-yeong's mouth stretched from ear to ear as he scratched the back of his head, nostrils flaring.

"Hahaha, Big Brother, really. What's gotten into Il Sa-hyeop?"

Seo Joo-cheon opened his eyes wide. As far as he could remember, it had been a very long time since Ham Cheon-yeong had made a joke.

He must like the title quite a bit.

The titles of the Shaanxi Four Evils were something Seo Joo-cheon had never written. He was taking a quiet pleasure in them himself.

"Ah — the woman we rescued from the Undying Demon has asked to see you, Big Brother."

"Me? Why?"

"She seems wary of Mount Hua Sect and the other martial artists. She specifically requested an audience with you. It looked as though she had something to say."

He had meant to meet her once, but she was a woman of no particular interest to Seo Joo-cheon — a character who had come along as a byproduct of this incident, of too little importance to hold his attention.

"All right. If she wants to meet, I suppose I should see her."

If the woman was asking for a meeting, there was no reason to refuse.