Chapter 69
The gentle energy inside felt utterly different from the outside world, tickling my chilled ears and cheeks. I rubbed my face in a daze as I wandered across the field.
Changgung Hall was the Namgung Clan's closed-door training ground, but more precisely, it had been built jointly by the Namgung Clan and the Zhuge Clan. Among the Ten Great Clans, the Zhuge Clan held a uniquely prestigious position. Their martial arts were exceptional, but what earned them even greater acclaim was their strategic brilliance. One could say there would be no Murim Alliance without the Zhuge Clan—they had played the pivotal role in establishing it and driving out the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.
Generation after generation, the Zhuge Clan had served as the Alliance's chief strategist, their eyes set on claiming the title of the world's greatest clan. But those days were long gone. Now, they had fallen into steep decline, their scale even smaller than our Baek Clan. They no longer qualified for the Ten Great Clans.
Yet, as the saying goes, even a wealthy family takes three generations to ruin. The Zhuge Clan's image was so firmly established and distinctive that people still regarded them as one of the Ten Great Clans despite their decay.
In their heyday, the Zhuge Clan had joined forces with the Namgung Clan to create this very Changgung Hall.
The cool breeze, the feel of grass and earth underfoot—it was all so vividly real, no illusion in sight. In the novel, there was a scene where Namgung Ryu-cheong got trapped in the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's Qimen Formation. Even though he was with his comrades, they were separated in an instant, and he faced an assault from legendary yokai, sustaining real injuries.
If they could pull that off, creating something like this should be possible too.
I stopped by the lakeside and dipped my hand into the rippling water. It felt exactly like real water.
Truly amazing.
I closed my eyes for a moment, focusing my mind. When I opened them again, my reflection in the water showed sharp golden irises. The first time Seo Ha-ryeong had caught on and I'd checked with the copper mirror, they were a light brown. But the more I trained, the more distinctly golden they became—now a deep, rich gold.
It seemed the more natural qi I could wield, the clearer my eye color shifted. Whether that was good or not, I couldn't say.
I lifted my head from the water and scanned my surroundings.
Good thing this eye can't be fooled.
This beautiful landscape and the flow of natural qi felt completely off. It was artificial... the dissonance hit me the moment I saw it. And most crucially, the concentration of natural qi here was far denser.
Fitting for a training ground.
Training in a place like this would definitely accelerate inner energy accumulation. I sat against a suitable tree trunk, crossed my legs in the lotus position, and began meditative breathing. Honestly, I didn't need to sit like that—my method wasn't true meditative circulation anyway. But it somehow helped me focus better, so I did.
As usual, I gauged the natural qi I could control, then gathered a bit in my right hand. Soon, the wound on my palm began itching unbearably as it healed rapidly. High-level cultivators recovered far faster than ordinary people, and wielding natural qi produced a similar effect. That was why the Namgung Clan's physician had marveled at my healing speed.
I could have sped it up more but modulated it to avoid drawing attention.
No need to worry about prying eyes now.
Still, it wasn't some magical instant cure.
If it were, the Manshin-ui wouldn't have met such a tragic end there...
It was personal healing power plus a little extra. Useless for those on the brink of death or whose lifespan had run out, depleting their innate qi—no amount of natural qi could save them then. But for wounds like this? No problem.
Similarly, those with a chance of survival could be pulled back from the edge with natural qi—people who would die anywhere else. That was why he was called the Manshin-ui.
I drew every ounce of power from my body, gathering as much energy as possible. When I opened my eyes, a quail-egg-sized orb of qi hovered above my palm—the current limit of what I could wield.
Less than Namgung Ryu-cheong's inner energy, more than Seo Ha-ryeong's, I think?
The density was high, so it felt substantially more than usual. But the moment stray thoughts crept in, the hard-won energy scattered.
"Ah!"
Regretfully, I tried to recapture it, but once dispersed, it melted away like cotton candy in water, reabsorbing into the natural qi.
Well, no big loss. I was just testing my maximum capacity here.
I closed my eyes again, focusing to manipulate the surrounding natural qi. A short while later, a headache's onset forced my eyes open. No clock, so I couldn't tell exactly how long, but...
Outside, I could sustain it for one gak—about fifteen minutes.
That meant I could wield more inner energy than Seo Ha-ryeong but less than Namgung Ryu-cheong for fifteen minutes. Inner energy wasn't the sole measure of strength, but it was a solid benchmark.
It's not just the amount—I need to extend the duration too.
Compared to my initial one or two minutes before needing a break, it was progress, but still insufficient. Pushing harder here worsened the headaches; ignoring them led to nosebleeds. My body just couldn't endure more.
I needed at least half a sichen—an hour—of rest.
Time for a break.
I clutched my throbbing head and unwrapped the bundle Madam So had prepared. Various items tumbled out, but one caught my eye.
Candied fruit.
Packing snacks for closed-door training? Usually, people subsisted on bland nutrient pills like wall-grain elixirs to focus purely on cultivation. My hand reached out instinctively. Munching away happily with one in hand, I suddenly froze.
Am I seriously doing this right now?
I glanced around. A training ground embodying the pinnacle of Namgung and Zhuge techniques.
What the hell am I doing here?
I needed to build stamina, train my natural qi... Mountains of tasks ahead. And I wasn't even sure if this was the right path.
Yet here I was, goofing off with sweets.
Anyone seeing this would think I'd already won.
I touched the nape of my neck. Humans were so fickle. A taste of peace, and I slack off like this. Where was the me who cherished this second chance at life, vowing to survive no matter what?
I set the candy down, steeling my resolve.
Sorry.
I scooped up the neatly wrapped treats and tossed them into the lake. Closing my eyes, I refocused.
So what if I push too hard? Nosebleed, maybe spit blood—what's the worst?
Plus, Changgung Hall had healing properties; even injuries would mend quickly. All I could do was give my all.
Half a month later, the sound of the bolt unlocking echoed through Changgung Hall. The seal was lifted, allowing exit anytime. But I kept telling myself "one more day," and hadn't left. That made it a full week.
I want to stay longer.
I splashed my feet in the lake. Uncle Namgung Wan had said I could stay beyond the half-month if I wished. But since I hadn't truly entered for closed-door training, staying too long would worry them.
Our Baek Clan had a closed-door ground too—Baekyoung Yudong. I'd never been inside as a qi cripple, but I knew it was a cave.
Next time, I should check it out.
Shaking off my lingering attachment, I stood and straightened my robes. Glancing at my right hand, I saw smooth, fresh skin. I clenched and unclenched my fist. A faint pull remained, but movement was fine.
Ah, no more teasing Namgung Ryu-cheong.
Lost in thought, I opened the door. A cold gust made me hunch my shoulders, followed by pitch-black darkness.
"Huh?"
My eyes, accustomed to light, couldn't adjust. Startled, I looked around and sighed in relief at the star-packed sky.
Oh, it's night?
I'd assumed it would be daytime.
Am I an idiot? But how do I get back? Can I sneak through the bamboo grove at night?
Clunk.
The door shut behind me. I pulled my robes tighter against the chill and stepped forward. After seven paces, stairs descended before me. I halted abruptly, rubbing my eyes furiously after blinking hard.
A familiar silhouette—one I knew intimately but hadn't seen in ages. My lips trembled.
Finally, I managed to form the word.
"Father?"
"...Yeon-ah!"
Father bounded down the tall stairs in one leap, enveloping me in a tight embrace. His scent, always laced with herbal fragrance. The real, tangible feel.
"Father."
"Yes, Yeon-ah."
"Father."
"Yes."
"...Father."
Hearing that voice filled me with such profound relief.
I'm really safe. Truly.