The Disciple Overturns the Master (1)
Half a month had passed.
When Cheon Woo-jin opened his eyes from his cross-legged meditation, Gwiyeongja, who had been watching beside him, asked, "How do you feel? What state are you in?"
"……"
Cheon Woo-jin kept his mouth shut and set his spirit qi into motion.
From the torso to the fingertips, through the Hand Taiyin Lung Meridian. From the fingertips to the head, through the Hand Yangming Large Intestine Meridian. From the head to the toes, through the Foot Yangming Stomach Meridian. From the toes back to the torso, through the Foot Taiyin Spleen Meridian. Then the Hand Shaoyin Heart Meridian, the Hand Taiyang Small Intestine Meridian, the Foot Taiyang Bladder Meridian, the Foot Shaoyin Kidney Meridian, the Hand Jueyin Pericardium Meridian, the Hand Shaoyang Triple Burner Meridian, the Foot Shaoyang Gallbladder Meridian, and finally the Foot Jueyin Liver Meridian.
With that, he was able to circulate his spirit qi through a full cycle using all twelve meridians.
The conversion of the twelve meridians into spirit meridians was complete.
"I've completed one full cycle."
"Ohhh…!"
Gwiyeongja slapped his knee in astonishment.
"You've finally entered the Qi Condensation Realm! You are now a proper cultivator in your own right!"
Truth be told, Cheon Woo-jin wanted to make a fuss of it too.
The entire world itself seemed to have changed.
So this is the world a cultivator sees.
The spirit qi dwelling in all things was vividly, palpably real to him now. Not only that — he could even sense a considerable quantity of spirit qi condensed within Gwiyeongja's body.
How did I live all this time without seeing any of it?
It was as if he'd been fitted with a new pair of glasses; everything in the world had come into razor-sharp focus. Thanks to that, Cheon Woo-jin was experiencing a sense of liberation he had never known before.
Even breathing feels delightful. How is that possible?
With every inhalation, he could feel the spirit qi suspended in the air flowing into his body. The sensation of that qi, absorbed through his lungs, spreading throughout his entire frame was more refreshing than any forest retreat he had ever taken.
It's as if every organ in my body has been swapped out for brand-new parts. Everything feels crisp and new.
It was, quite literally, the feeling of being born again.
If this was all it took, becoming a cultivator had been worth it.
"All of it is thanks to you, Master."
"Nonsense! This is the fruit of your own hard work!"
Cheon Woo-jin bowed deeply to Gwiyeongja, and the old man placed a hand on his shoulder, tears streaming down his face.
To any observer, it was a heartwarming scene of master and disciple. But there was not a shred of genuine affection anywhere in it.
Gwiyeongja intended to turn Cheon Woo-jin into a living pill and consume him, and Cheon Woo-jin intended to strike the first blow before the old man could make his move.
Of course, neither of them needed to reveal that at this point. Gwiyeongja planned to wait until his disciple reached the middle stage of Qi Condensation, and Cheon Woo-jin planned to keep leaning on his master until he had grown strong enough.
A master and disciple, each biding their time to betray the other.
At a glance, the two of them looked perfectly matched. But there was one decisive difference between them.
The master, even now, had not grasped the slightest hint of his disciple's true nature.
But the disciple saw through everything the master was.
The seasons turned.
Autumn arrived at Mount Goeyu, and the mountain blazed with crimson foliage.
Cheon Woo-jin trained diligently in the Five Elements Dao-Entering Art under Gwiyeongja's instruction.
To reach the middle stage of Qi Condensation, he would have to convert the Conception Vessel and the Governing Vessel into spirit meridians as well.
With only two meridians left to convert, it looked far simpler on paper — but it was nowhere near as easy as he'd imagined. In truth, it was several times harder than turning the twelve ordinary meridians had been.
"Martial artists don't obsess over breaking through the Conception and Governing Vessels for nothing. Do not take it lightly."
"Understood, Master."
Gwiyeongja, meanwhile, had his own new achievement to celebrate. Though he had failed to break into the late stage of Qi Condensation, he had succeeded in mastering a new spell — thanks to the improvements he'd made to his spirit qi manipulation after studying Cheon Woo-jin's methods.
"Haha…!"
He flung a talisman high into the sky, and it became a single sword. When Gwiyeongja moved his fingers, the sword flew through the air precisely along the paths his fingers traced.
"This is no different from Sword-Guiding-by-Qi! Even a martial artist of the Mystic Realm could hardly envy me now!"
Sword-Guiding-by-Qi was the art of remotely controlling a blade with internal energy, and only martial artists of the Mystic Realm — those who could wield their internal energy freely — could ever hope to master it. But with spellcraft, even a bottom-rung cultivator like Gwiyeongja could reproduce the same technique.
That was what made cultivators so terrifying.
"What do you think? This, right here, is the fabled Sword-Controlling Talisman!"
"It's magnificent, Master."
Cheon Woo-jin flattered him dutifully from the side. "Master, couldn't you teach me a spell like that as well?"
"No. Now is the time to train your foundational cultivation method. Spells can wait."
Gwiyeongja refused to teach him any spellcraft. He was wary of Cheon Woo-jin one day turning that power against him. And so Cheon Woo-jin was forced to do nothing but watch from the sidelines, every single time.
Not that watching alone teaches me plenty.
Cheon Woo-jin already had a rough grasp of every spell Gwiyeongja used. Now that he was a Qi Condensation cultivator with heightened senses, he could see straight through the principles behind the old man's spellcraft. Gwiyeongja's spells were hardly sophisticated to begin with, so understanding them posed no difficulty at all.
He had never actually attempted one, since Gwiyeongja's surveillance was constant — but if he put his mind to it, he could probably cast a few spells for real.
Even so, casting spells wouldn't make beating Gwiyeongja easy. The man is a Transcendent Peak martial master.
A supreme expert who had surpassed even the Peak realm — that was Gwiyeongja's station.
As a cultivator he was still merely middle-stage Qi Condensation, but as a martial artist he stood at a considerably lofty height.
And what of Cheon Woo-jin?
The spirit qi flowing through his meridians continually revitalized his muscles and bones, so his physical abilities were currently on par with a first-rate martial artist. But he had never learned martial arts, so if it came to a direct clash, Gwiyeongja would clearly subdue him in an instant.
He is by no means a man to underestimate. He could kill me at any moment.
Even so, Cheon Woo-jin felt no fear.
He knew that when this master-disciple relationship finally met its end, it was Gwiyeongja who would be the one on his knees.
The seasons turned once more.
The winter wind had grown biting. The sky hung dark and heavy, heavy with the promise of snow.
Cheon Woo-jin was deep in meditation inside the hermitage when Gwiyeongja, who had been out gathering herbs, returned.
"It seems the Black Dragon has vanished from Mount Goeyu," the old man said, setting down the herbs he'd dug from the mountain. "I went in quite deep this time, but I couldn't sense the slightest trace of the Black Dragon's presence. Where in the world could it have gone?"
"……"
Half a year, and he only just noticed?
Cheon Woo-jin nearly snorted aloud.
"Could it be dead, perhaps?"
"If it were dead, the miasma leaking from its corpse would have spread through the area. There was nothing of the sort."
"I see."
Some passing cultivator had most likely carted the carcass off. Even without its forbidden treasures, a dragon's body of that caliber was a prize of immense value.
"That aside."
Gwiyeongja turned to Cheon Woo-jin. "How did it go?"
"Allow me to show you."
Cheon Woo-jin set his spirit qi in motion before his master's eyes.
A martial artist begins the Small Heavenly Circuit from the Lower Dantian in the lower abdomen — but a cultivator begins from the Upper Dantian, in the head.
Spirit qi rose from his crown and descended along the Conception Vessel, down the entire front of his body. At the Huiyin point it passed into the Governing Vessel, climbed back up the spine, and returned to the head.
Instead of the old route — winding through the twelve meridians of the limbs three times over, four times, twelve — the qi now completed its circuit by the shortest possible path, straight down the body's central axis and back.
His qi manipulation had ascended to an entirely higher plane.
"I've completed the circuit through the Conception and Governing Vessels."
"Ah! You've done it!"
A cry of wonder burst from Gwiyeongja's lips.
"Congratulations! You are now in the middle stage of Qi Condensation!"
The old man threw his arms around Cheon Woo-jin, rejoicing as if it were his own triumph. "We must hold a celebration tonight!"
"A celebration?"
"I have liquor I procured from outside long ago, set aside for exactly such an occasion! Let us drink together and celebrate properly!"
"There was liquor in this hermitage?"
"I hid it, lest you sneak off with it and drink yourself stupid! Haha!"
Gwiyeongja laughed and clapped Cheon Woo-jin on the shoulder.
"Wait here just a moment! I'll go fetch the bottle!"
Near the hermitage stood a single earthen dugout.
It was where Gwiyeongja stored his most precious possessions — secret manuals and the raw materials for his pills were hidden away there as well. From among them, he retrieved a bottle of liquor he had kept stored since long ago.
He lifted the stopper and brought it to his nose. A deep, mellow fragrance drifted out.
Splendid.
By scent alone, it was a wine fit for an emperor's table. But its true nature was a poisoned brew that could lay a man insensible with a single swallow.
Best to take every precaution.
Gwiyeongja intended to feed this liquor to his disciple. Even against a man in perfect health he could surely prevail, but he had to prepare for every eventuality.
That one is no ordinary fool.
Setting the bottle down for a moment, he rummaged through a wooden chest and drew out a single dagger lacquered jet-black, concealing it within his robes. He gathered up the talismans he had prepared long ago as well.
He meant to subdue the boy only after every contingency was in place.
Half a year, has it been.
Unexpectedly, Gwiyeongja found himself recalling the days he had spent with his disciple. Six months of living side by side, piling up something like affection between master and student. It might well have been the warmest stretch of Gwiyeongja's entire life.
I have waited a long time for this.
And yet, at this moment, Gwiyeongja felt no regret whatsoever.
If anything, his heart was fluttering with anticipation. After all this waiting, the reward was finally within his grasp.
Of course, he felt no guilt either.
Affection between master and disciple? What did that matter?
To a cultivator, the only thing of consequence was climbing to a higher realm and drawing nearer to immortality. To that end, a cultivator would sacrifice even his own parents and children without blinking. A disciple who shared not a single drop of his blood was something he could cast away without so much as a second glance.
Disciple, I will devour you and climb to a higher plane. So be grateful, and consider it an honor.
Bottle in hand, Gwiyeongja stepped out of the dugout.
Snow had begun to fall while he was inside.
It was coming down hard — it would pile up thick before the night was out, he thought. And just then, a voice reached him.
"Master."
Outside the dugout, Cheon Woo-jin stood waiting, snow gathering on his shoulders.