The Celestial Maiden's Silver Tongue (2)
Watching Cheon Do-yeon assume her stance and close her eyes, Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo found herself admiring the girl anew.
Truly, what an extraordinary child—far beyond even my expectations, brimming with talent and wit! How does she twist a desperate situation into one where she extracts spirit medicine from them?
Most murim folk were sorely lacking in eloquence.
Isolated from the world, devoting themselves solely to cultivation in rigid hierarchies—such lives left no room for honing the arts of debate, persuasion, or sweet-talking.
Yet this girl's silver tongue? In an instant, she'd rallied them all to secure her own gain.
Perhaps even I am dancing to her tune.
But even if that were true... it didn't feel bad at all.
She was just too adorable, after all.
Still, Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo couldn't help but wonder.
Why on earth did she insist on those five minutes?
All Cheon Do-yeon needed to do was prove to Jong In that she wasn't a demonic cultist.
Just show her pure qi, like before.
So why five minutes, specifically?
...Come to think of it, what martial art did this child even cultivate in the first place?
She must have learned something to defeat a murim warrior like Nam Yeon.
And she'd wielded Bongrae-pa's daoist qi with such finesse, so it had to be some daoist art.
Just demonstrate that, and it was done. Simple logic.
The question remained: why the five minutes?
No way...?
Surely she hadn't learned a demonic art?
A faint—just the slightest—unease stirred in Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo's heart.
If she had—not that she believed it, purely hypothetical—then in the worst case, Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo might have to end her life herself.
She was powerful, yes.
But not an absolute being.
As a member of Bongrae-pa, she had duties to uphold.
If the girl truly had demonic arts... executing her personally would be part of that duty.
...Please, prove me wrong.
I don't want to be her executioner.
Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo's palms grew slick with sweat.
She focused intently. On every breath the girl took.
"Huuuuuh..."
She expelled every last bit of air from her lungs.
Ah.
It stung. Their gazes burned! She could feel Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo watching, wondering if...!
If I mess this up, I'm dead...!
Baekryong Singong. The inner art of Baekdu-pa.
Geom Hu's note had included the incantation, diagrams of the forms, and a heap of worried nagging.
To learn a martial art, three things were needed: the movements, the inner mysteries, and a master's guidance.
The note covered all three: diagrams, incantations, and nagging.
I hadn't even properly read the Honyeon Taeheo Muryang Jin-gyeong.
For Heukam Myeolgeop Jang, I'd only gotten the incantation; the rest I'd inferred through visions.
So Baekryong Singong was my first martial art learned "properly."
Ah, right—Samjae Geombeop too.
Too basic; I'd nearly forgotten.
Anyway. Focus. Focus!
I sat as the diagram showed and recited the incantation.
'White scales gleam on the clear river (白鱗照淸江), leaping waters ripple outward (躍水波紋起), clouds and thunder trail in flight (雲雷隨飛行)—'
Simsang Dokja [Baekryong Singong]
It surges—heavenward, to the skies!! The white dragon soars!
Haha! Magnificent! Utterly magnificent!!
Oh, how grand it is!
White Dragon, one day shall I too soar like you? White Dragon! One day, might this one join you in flight!!
White Dragon!!
When this humble soul stands upon those heavens, share a cup with me!! Float goblets on the Milky Way and compose poetry in revelry!!
Hahaha!! Hahahahahaha!!!!!
Let us fly—freely, soar unbound!! Rise ablaze, erupt skyward!!!
I shall become the dragon!! The dragon of Baekdu Mountain!!
"—Hngh!?"
The vision was... not what I'd expected.
The renowned, dignified supreme art of Baekdu-pa.
I'd imagined an aged daoist breathing deeply amid pine needles.
But what I saw? Pure ecstasy. Childlike joy.
Like a boy thrilled at the sight of a dinosaur.
This is... a bit unexpected.
From what I knew, Baekdu-pa were rigid principle-mongers—stuffy old fogeys, in harsher terms.
How could cultivators of such a crisp, exhilarating art be so uptight?
Maybe I'm learning it wrong somehow?
I'll ask Geom Hu later.
For now, time to master it.
"Huuuuuh..."
Deep. So deep. Exhale like a dragon purging its lungs before diving.
Even it out. Settle. Precipitate.
"Hng...!!"
Inhale sharply.
Natural true qi floods in explosively.
But only a fraction— what the dragon needs—is useful.
Exhale the dross.
"Huaaaah!!"
Compress the pure essence, draw it into my body.
Through meridians near the lungs, it flows naturally, coursing through me, arriving at the dantian.
Small.
But pure.
Repeat the breath. A little more each cycle. Once more, a bit fuller.
Ugh!?
The demonic qi in my dantian thrashed like it was its last chance to escape.
You're like a damn cancer cell! If you burst out now, you die and I die!
Settle down!
With the ornate, profound qi of Bongrae-pa and the bold, hearty qi of Baekdu-pa, I forged bars to cage the demonic qi.
"...Five minutes have passed."
Jong In's voice rang out, but sorry, ignoring you!
Dangerous, dangerous, dangerous...!
If he disturbed me now, everything would go to hell. Hurry!
"Hngmm..."
Damn it! Don't rush me!!
Shhh, splash!
Finally, I sealed the rampaging demonic qi completely.
I opened my eyes.
My whole body was drenched in sweat.
"Great, under five minutes, right? Verify now!"
"Five minutes passed long ago..."
Jong In glanced at Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo, gave up nitpicking, and extended his hand.
"Don't dream of fooling me with some strange sorcery. Dobongpa may have far to go, but we're no frail sect to trifle with."
"I know. That's why you oversee Uijeongbu and Yangju, right? Big league."
"...Hmph."
Distrust still clouded Jong In's face.
What a picky bastard.
Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo sighed inwardly.
Still, relief. From her demeanor, she truly hasn't learned demonic arts.
Cheon Do-yeon squeezed a drop of daoist qi onto Jong In's palm.
"Oh... oooooh!?"
Jong In reacted violently.
"So utterly pure, chillingly clear qi! Little one! Could it be... you've learned Baekdu-pa's inner art!?"
...Huh?
Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo tilted her head.
Why is Baekdu-pa coming up here?
Baekdu-pa in the north and Bongrae-pa in the center shared a rivalry.
Had they scouted her first? Before me?
No, unlikely.
Were Baekdu-pa ever that idle?
Near Hanyang, you rarely crossed their warriors—Pyongyang, maybe.
"Ah..."
"What's that reaction? It isBaekdu-pa's art, isn't it!?"
"Fate led me to it somehow..."
!?!?
I'd claimed her first! Thought I'd staked her first!
"Up you get!"
Cheon Do-yeon rose.
"So, I'm free to go? No grabbing me? Return all my stuff, and don't forget that third-best spirit medicine!"
"Understood, I'll fetch the key—"
Bang!
"...I locked that."
A dicey situation.
But Cheon Do-yeon's mind whirred into overdrive again.
"Jong In, that's your first mistake, Sect Leader."
She knocked on the door.
"I could've left anytime. But that would've shamed you. I waited inside to follow proper order and procedure."
A lie. But only Joo Yeon knew.
She winked at her. Keep quiet, right?
With the eyepatch, it just looked like a blink.
But it worked. Joo Yeon nodded frantically.
Her face seemed flushed. Feverish?
"Hah...!"
Jong In marveled, clasping hands in salute.
"I was blind to a noble guest. My apologies!"
"Aigoo, no worries! Happens!"
After her status upgraded from prisoner to guest in Dobongpa, Cheon Do-yeon tried heading home.
"Then I'll be—"
"Follow me, child."
"Eek!"
Snagged by Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo, dragged to Hoseon-gak.
"Hy-Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo-nim, you helped so much this time—"
"Enough. It's not that I want to discuss..."
Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo looked up at her, then tilted her head sideways.
From below, those massive swells blocked eye contact.
Three-Headed Beauty?
An odd epithet popped up. She shook her head to dispel it.
Arriving at Hoseon-gak, she led Cheon Do-yeon up the wooden building and sat her in a corner.
"By the way, child, what's your name?"
"Eh? I didn't... right, I didn't tell you! Cheon Do-yeon."
"Cheon Do-yeon... Cheon Do... yeon..."
Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo glanced at her peach-blossom hair.
"I have many questions for you, child. So very many..."
Her hand touched the bandaged face.
"What happened here?"
"...Slashed by a sword."
"...May I look?"
Nod.
Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo slowly unwound the bandages.
And sighed deeply at the horror beneath.
"Hah..."
A massive gash crossed from forehead, over brow and eye, to cheek.
Pitiful even on a boy—on a girl's face? Unthinkable.
On such a peerless face.
Like fine porcelain cracked.
"...That eye... it won't heal, will it?"
Cheon Do-yeon's voice trembled.
In that tremor, Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo saw it: the fear hidden beneath her bold front.
How terrified she must have been.
And how much it must have hurt.
A warm emotion welled in Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo's chest.
Childless, niece-less since entering the dao, she didn't recognize it.
"There is a way to heal it."
"R-Really!?"
"But it's no easy path. Are you willing?"
"Of course! No matter how hard—it's my eye at stake!"
"Splendid resolve."
Truly admirable.
"Stand."
"Yes! What's next?"
"Next..."
Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo grabbed her t-shirt.
"First, let's strip off all your clothes."
"...Pardon?"