For You, We've Prepared
What sort of existence is a martial artist?
They charge through the wind and dust of the jianghu with nothing but a single sword at their side.
Most perish before they can even bloom, yet they never stop.
In a word, they're romantics.
The Kunlun Sect was no different.
Though they were Taoists, they were still denizens of the martial world. How could they lack romance?
Their long-suppressed natures had awakened thanks to Jeong Gwang.
"Cool is good, right? Heh heh."
"Hahaha. There's no reason a Taoist can't be cool."
"And stronger to boot? Infinite mercy. Even the Supreme Lord Laozi wouldn't object."
Even those grumbling negatively couldn't help chuckling, and Un Hu, who had been waiting for his chance, chimed in.
"It's only natural for a man to want to look dashing."
Un Hu, the most Taoist-like of them all, discoursing on style?
One old Taoist let out a scoffing laugh.
"Heh heh. I never expected such words from you, senior brother."
"Why? Am I not a man too? To be honest, I joined the sect because the seniors in the scriptures looked so cool. Didn't you all?"
Kunlun Sect lay at the edge of even remote Qinghai Province, the end of the ends.
They had long suffered a chronic shortage of talent, but true to their status among the Nine Great Sects and One Gang, they never took disciples lightly.
Only those with talent and good character could become disciples.
The same held true for other sects.
Thus, those who could join flocked to flashy Central Plains sects, so most who chose Kunlun admired its chivalry and martial arts.
"Style, huh..."
The sect leader, head of the group, murmured softly.
"Can't a Taoist be stylish?"
He scanned the room, then looked at Jeong Gwang.
"When I was young, I wanted to look cool too."
A faint smile touched the sect leader's stern face.
"Honestly, that feeling lingers even now."
His candid words stirred the old Taoists.
"Sect leader, that's a bit much."
"Heavens. Outsiders might mock us."
The sect leader smiled gently.
"Even now, I put on airs to look cool. You seniors and juniors know that well, don't you?"
The old Taoists recalled Sect Leader Un Jeok's past.
He was right.
He'd never been truly solemn by nature, yet now he exuded the heaviest aura.
When had it started?
When he became sect leader?
No.
He had simply grown into it with age, matching his years.
Now they saw: he hadn't changed; he'd only seemed to.
The old Taoists gave awkward chuckles.
"Heh heh. What a revelation today. I haven't changed much from my youth either. Just been pretending."
"Embarrassing to admit, but same here. Haha. Feels like a wasted life."
Remembering their own and their brothers' youths, the old Taoists grew nostalgic.
They had left the secular world to pursue the Dao, but memories couldn't be discarded.
Jeong Gwang, watching, was impressed.
To bare their souls so openly before the grand-master—truly, these were Taoists.
Kunlun is Kunlun, after all.
Is this the true face of a righteous sect?
As if.
Human nature isn't that noble.
The Kunlun Taoists were special.
His past self, who had lumped the Nine Great Sects and One Gang as hypocrites, felt a tiny—very tiny—pang of guilt.
As Jeong Gwang smiled warmly at them...
One nostalgia-soaked old Taoist suddenly wiped tears with his sleeve.
"Brought back bad memories. That fiend Jin Cheonma... because of him, my master..."
"Ah, how many perished miserably to that archfiend!"
"Heaven is heartless! Living a hundred-plus years, only to die like that!"
"Kunlun's hardships are all his fault!"
From all sides poured curses on the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult—no, the Demonic Cult—and Jeong Gwang.
Jeong Gwang's pleased smile soured.
Misreading it, Un Hu patted him reassuringly.
"I told you, you've done nothing wrong. Don't worry."
Meant for his current life's Jeong Gwang, yet it felt like solace for his past self.
Jeong Gwang's face softened a bit.
Right. What wrong had he done?
They should be grateful he hadn't wiped out the sect.
But Un Hu's mutter crumpled it again.
"Jin Cheonma... fortunate his lifespan ended him. But if another like him arises, how to stop it?"
"..."
He's been reborn for ages.
Stop him? Once he reaches his past realm, no one could...
"Yes. The Primordial Heavenly Venerable sent you just in time. You can stop him."
Un Hu's voice rang with conviction.
The others nodded agreement.
"Even if such a thing happens, Jeong Gwang can handle it!"
"Stylish and stronger arts? Possible!"
"Indeed!"
All eyes turned to Jeong Gwang, filled with firm faith.
"Jeong Gwang."
The sect leader concluded.
His voice carried expectations heavy as Mount Tai.
"I believe in you."
Recalling that day a few days prior, Jeong Gwang sighed.
He'd been swamped.
All because of those "stylish" Kunlun martial arts.
One encircling elder asked:
"Jeong Gwang, why must it be done this way here?"
"The Flying Dragon Emerges from Sea form embodies energy surging from the ocean, so thrust vigorously..."
"Mm. Yin and yang are one, yet divide into orthodox and reverse—so sea is yin, dragon yang, repelling each other fiercely."
"...Yes."
"Jeong Gwang, check this stance."
"It's right, but bend the right knee more, softer..."
"Exactly! The principle of xun in the Eight Trigrams demands deeper flexion and flexibility!"
"...Yes."
"Jeong Gwang, what if we try this?"
"No. Let me demonstrate. The opposite... like this."
"Ah! Wood begets fire, fire earth, earth metal, metal water, water wood—yet here, mutual restraint via conquest: wood conquers earth, earth water, water fire, fire metal, metal wood! Heh heh. Now I get it!"
"...Yes. Glad."
Jeong Gwang was fed up with elders systematizing everything via Taoist philosophy.
Fine, he got it.
They needed theoretical frameworks to accept it, stubborn as they were. Good for posterity too.
It helped him codify his instincts.
Up to here, fine.
But...
Jeong Gwang.
Jeong Gwang.
Jeong Gwang.
No end.
Hallucinations rang in his head.
He'd volunteered to restore proper Kunlun arts.
Still, this was too much.
He'd rushed to leave soon, not expecting such grueling days.
Even he, once called Blood-on-a-Thousand-Days or True Heavenly Demon, whined weakly.
"...That's enough for today."
"Already?"
"We had momentum."
"Haha. Worried for our health? Don't fret—keep going."
Old thieves learn late and fierce; elders newly stylish knew no fatigue.
Jeong Gwang's fresh face now bore dark circles.
He ground his teeth.
This way, he'd burn out before old age.
Couldn't beat elders—he'd done worse in his past life. Rage turned to the root cause.
Heavenly Demon Divine Cult... Divine my ass, just Demonic Cult. Wipe 'em all?
No.
Even he needed time.
Better build Kunlun per original plan, then leave.
But this was exhausting.
He'd pushed stylish, strong Kunlun Taoists and arts—couldn't slack.
Wait...
Since when did I care so much for others?
Time to take what's mine.
Next morning, hollow-eyed, Jeong Gwang told the elders:
"I thought it over."
Elders snatched brushes at blinding speed.
"Yes! Speak."
"What now? Cloud Dragon Thirteen Swords? Supreme Pure Seal?"
"Or yesterday's Dragon Form Step verse you explained—mind clarifying?"
As sharp-eyed elders lunged, Jeong Gwang said firmly:
"At this rate, I'll die."
"...Why?"
Jeong Gwang was dumbfounded.
Why?
They didn't know?
For real?
They truly seemed clueless.
"I'm thirteen."
"Yes."
"Growing age."
"Of course."
"But look: no sleep, just arts. How'll I live long?"
Finally, they snapped to.
"Heavens. What have we done?"
"Indeed. Greed blinded us, tormenting young Jeong Gwang."
"Shameful. Truly shameful."
"Jeong Gwang, sorry. Our fault."
Overworking a child was undeniable.
But understandable: to a martial artist, arts trump life.
Who wouldn't dive in after decades?
Taoist or not, they were warriors.
Comforting themselves, they continued:
"Halve lecture time to half a shichen?"
"Bed uncomfortable? Better room."
"You look frail. That... uh, you know? Do it. Kunlun's not stuffy."
Jeong Gwang gritted his teeth.
Half a shichen? Pointless.
Bed? Kunlun rooms are all the same.
Meat? Kids like him sneaked it anyway.
Not what he wanted.
He declared boldly:
"Give me spirit medicines."
"...What?"
"Spirit medicines. Health aside, weak inner power blocks countless arts. How long to revise all?"
"..."
Elders eyed each other, then him.
One dejectedly spoke:
"Sorry."
"...Yes?"
"No spirit medicines in the sect."
"...Yes?"
Jeong Gwang was floored.
Kunlun? One of Nine Great Sects and One Gang?
Frugal, sure—but none?
Stingy lies? Or...
"Joking, right?"
"...Truly sorry."
Their eyes looked genuinely sad.
They shuffled away, steps heavy.
Jeong Gwang felt oddly guilty.
Like a spoiled kid demanding from a poor grandpa.
"Whatever."
He flopped down.
Eyes closed on their own.
Sweet sleep at last.
-Jeong Gwang!
-Jeong Gwang!
-Jeong Gwang!
Sweet sleep, my ass.
Even dreams echoed elders calling him.
"Jeong Gwang!"
"Jeong Gwang!"
"Jeong Gwang!"
No.
Reality.
Blearily opening his eyes, encircling elders appeared.
"Haa... Yes. Let's start."
Resigned, he rose; one elder hoisted him.
"Yes! Let's go!"
"Yes?"
Elders unleashed Kunlun's Cloud Sea Flying Shadow, arriving at Samcheongjeon Hall in seconds.
There, countless old Taoists waited with resolute faces.
"...What is this?"
Unable to hide bewilderment, Jeong Gwang asked; Un Hu answered.
"We've been too thoughtless."
"...Yes?"
"Burdened you greatly, only thinking of gains."
Jeong Gwang panicked.
True, but atmosphere too grave.
Un Hu continued heavily:
"For you, we've prepared."
"...Yes?"
"Better than spirit medicines. Don't be too down."
"...Yes?"
Un Hu glanced at the sect leader.
He nodded.
"Begin."
Un Hu seated Jeong Gwang properly, legs crossed.
Then emphasized, one by one:
"Keep your mind sharp. Absolutely do not open your mouth or speak."
Wait, this is...
It?