Uneasy Dawn
At the break of dawn, Yeon A-rang sat upright on his bed. "Huuu... haaa..." He drew a long breath. This was the daily practice known as un-gi-jo-sik, the circulation and regulation of qi. Ever since he had come to understand how fearsome and vital qi truly was, he had never once skipped this routine.
—Cough! Veins bulged across his face as he spat out a mouthful of blood.
"...Haa. Still, haeng-gong remains difficult."
Jo-sik was the act of sensing and accepting qi, while haeng-gong was the act of circulating it through the body. Even after three years of saving every coin he could and clutching a jade stone said to aid haeng-gong, it had been of no use. Wiping the blood from his lips with his sleeve, he resumed his seated posture and recalled his time at the clinic.
...
The old physician who had saved his life, Baek-ri Tak, treated him often. As a porter, Yeon A-rang was frequently injured, so their paths crossed often.
"Damn it! You again!?"
"Yes, sir. Again."
"Sit down!"
Yeon A-rang removed his outer robe and revealed his scarred torso. Baek-ri Tak clicked his tongue and tossed a mortar and pestle at him after steaming the usual herbs. It was as if he were saying he had no desire to touch a man's body. The old doctor slumped into his chair.
—Squelch, squelch. As he applied the green medicinal paste to his wounds, Yeon A-rang spoke.
"Elder, I have another request today."
"This damned brat..."
Baek-ri Tak opened an old book. Its contents were about acupoints, knowledge every physician had to master before performing acupuncture. He was not reciting from memory due to senility.
"If not for that gold coin..."
Yeon A-rang had spent countless nights pondering how best to use the single gold coin he had received from his spar with Yi Yeon-baek. Buy new clothes after discarding his tattered mat? No—he was still a porter; finer fabric would only be ruined. Feast on delicacies at a brothel? He lacked the courage to endure the aftermath, let alone the entrance fee. Secure proper lodging? One gold coin was far from enough. Just as he felt there was nothing truly fitting, a single word flashed through his mind: information.
"The meridians are the twelve principal meridians and eight extraordinary vessels among the twenty major channels, branching into countless fine vessels throughout the body, called the se-maek."
Yul-heo, Yi Yeon-baek of the Hyeongsan Sect, and even the grumbling physician Baek-ri Tak had all said the same thing.
—Pye-maek. They called his meridians worthless. Just how defective were they, that everyone spoke of them so? As a person before he was a martial artist, he could not help but wonder.
"The eight extraordinary vessels are something ordinary people cannot open in a lifetime, but martial artists are different. The saeng-sa-hyeon-gwan, or the Ren and Du meridians, connect the lower dantian at the perineum to the upper dantian at the crown, running along the spine. They are also called the gates of life and death."
At first, the unfamiliar terms had made his head spin, but after hearing them dozens of times, he had grasped their meaning. The Ren and Du meridians were naturally open at birth. However, as turbid qi accumulated over time, one had to force them open unless they regularly cleansed themselves through bathing and grooming—and the pain of that process was said to surpass death itself.
The Peak realm. To wield qi, the Ren and Du meridians had to be open. Occasionally, there were martial artists who could manipulate qi without having reached Peak, but that was only because their Ren and Du meridians had not yet fully closed.
'That is also why I cannot reach Peak...'
As they said, most martial artists had their Ren and Du meridians completely blocked, and Yeon A-rang was no exception. To force them open, one had to release all the qi stored in the dantian at once to break through the walls of the blocked meridians. The entire process was called saeng-sa-ta-tong. The difference with Yeon A-rang was that his meridians were so thin and weak that the moment he released his accumulated qi, not only the Ren and Du but all eight extraordinary vessels would rupture, killing him. Though others spoke of pain beyond death, in reality only one or two in ten died—yet for him, it was the reverse: eight or nine in ten.
"Haa..."
Yeon A-rang sighed and continued listening to Baek-ri Tak.
Whether thin and long or thick and long, he had only wanted to live long. But the world was harsher than he had imagined. Even the fresh wounds on his body were from a recent escort mission.
"Is this truly a chaotic age? Why are there so many Peak experts?"
He could handle anyone below Ilryu, but when he encountered bandits from the Green Forest, he bled eight or nine times out of ten. Each time, thoughts of qi circled in his mind.
Light filtered through the paper window. As dawn broke and the day brightened, Yeon A-rang stretched and opened the door. One by one, people began greeting him.
Three years had brought many changes—not only in information but in human relationships as well.
"Brother Yeon A-rang! Did you sleep well?"
At the very least, the second-class escorts below first-class treated him with respect. Most were the same people who had once mocked him as a blind man. Those who had openly gossiped or shouldered past him now bowed first. Even so, he did not like them, even if they shared the same meals. It was obvious they would change their tune the moment he showed weakness.
Just then, someone called out from afar.
"Oppa!!"
"Brother!"
Two small children, barely reaching his waist, came running toward him. The moment he saw them, the frown on his face melted into a smile. The Chief of Geumho Express had three sons and four daughters. The ones running to him were the youngest son and youngest daughter. Perhaps because they were the youngest, the two clung to him like leeches and followed him around far more than was reasonable.
This year, the nine-year-old youngest son Mak Yu-cheon and the eight-year-old youngest daughter Mak Ri-yu dashed over—pat-pat-pat—and grabbed Yeon A-rang's pant legs, spinning around him. Seemingly unbothered by dizziness, their eyes sparkled as they spoke.
"Sword! Teach us the sword today too!"
"Me too!"
Lately, they had grown obsessed with swords and kept pestering him. Though Geumho Express had plenty of seasoned first-class escorts, they came to him probably because he was the youngest and easiest to approach.
—Heh.
"Understood."
""Waaah!!""
Their innocence was a hundred times better. Just then, a voice called to him from a distance. Dong U-rim, a first-class escort of Geumho Express, approached with a casual wave. He had been the first person from the agency Yeon A-rang met after descending into the secular world and belonged to the Fourth Escort Division under Deputy Chief Yeo Geuk-seong.
"Hey, 'first-class' porter!"
Porters did not officially have ranks, but it had become his nickname. Yeon A-rang stopped patting the children's heads.
"What is it?"
"You've been assigned an bae-pyo."
"Pardon?"
Being assigned an bae-pyo meant he had been given an escort mission. To him?
"They said to deliver 'this.'"
—Rustle, rustle. At the sound, he asked,
"A letter?"
"Yeah."
"But why me?"
"Because you were designated?"
"No, I mean, I..."
—Thud! Dong U-rim slung an arm over his shoulder.
"Kid, how can you be so dense? What do you think it means to receive an bae-pyo?"
Dong U-rim handed him a set of black clothing he had been hiding.
"Congratulations, third-class escort!"
"....."
Dong U-rim kept thumping his back, but Yeon A-rang stood there dumbfounded. Could a porter really become an escort? Yet when he thought back on his actions so far, he realized he had fought bandits more often than he had carried loads.
"With your skills, even first-class would be fine, but that would be... well... you know what I mean, right?"
"Yes..."
Already drawing stares as a "first-class porter," suddenly becoming a first-class escort? From that day on, he would monopolize every bit of attention. That was not the life he wanted. Accepting the letter and uniform, he asked,
"Seohan Express—you go there often, so you know it?"
—Nod.
"Fortunately, it will be an easy mission."
Seohan Express was an allied agency of Geumho Express, and the short distance—only seven days' travel— was a route Yeon A-rang had taken over ten times as a porter.
"You said you'd teach us the sword..."
"Can't we... go together?"
Mak Yu-cheon and Mak Ri-yu clung to his pant legs and pleaded. Though he had just changed clothes, they were already damp with the children's tears. He thought of the letter tucked in his robe.
'No matter how easy the mission, seven days and nights would be too much for them.'
He wanted to take them, but night travel was unavoidable. Could the children endure it? It would be difficult. Kneeling before their tearful faces, Yeon A-rang pressed his forehead to theirs.
"Young Master, Young Miss. It seems it will be difficult, so..."
"Take them with you."
"Pardon... take them... what?"
Startled, Yeon A-rang hurriedly stood and bowed. The voice belonged to Deputy Chief Yeo Geuk-seong, whom he had not seen once since joining the agency.
"When did you arrive here...?"
As he straightened, Yeo Geuk-seong laughed heartily and waved a hand.
"It is nothing. I simply felt guilty for having neglected you when you have been working so diligently. So I put in a word."
"Ah... thank you so much!"
"It is awkward for me to say this myself, but I do have that much influence, so do not feel burdened. Besides, what problem could there be in taking two or three children along for someone this Yeo Geuk-seong has taken a liking to?"
"......"
Was that praise for him, or was he inflating his own importance like a mountain? He truly was an extraordinary man. That was how he had become deputy chief, after all.
"I will live up to your expectations."
Yeon A-rang bowed with clasped fists. At the sight, Mak Yu-cheon and Mak Ri-yu jumped up and down with joy. Even if bandits from the Green Forest appeared, his current level of skill was more than enough to handle them. There would be no problem.
Time passed, and third-class escort Yeon A-rang safely delivered the letter to the allied Seohan Express along with Mak Yu-cheon and Mak Ri-yu. Whatever the children had seen and learned, when they clasped their fists toward the Chief of Seohan Express in unison, both the chief and Yeon A-rang nearly burst out laughing. The chief, laughing like a grandfather watching his grandchildren's antics, gave Yeon A-rang a silver coin and told him to buy the children some sweets. Thus, the mission was completed without incident.
On the way back, Yeon A-rang bought each of them a candied hawthorn. Just then, an ominous feeling stirred.
—Clang... clang...
An unnatural metallic sound echoed, interspersed with... screams?
'About two li away... direction northwest?'
*800m. That direction lay on their path. More than anything, the scent carried on the wind was so metallic it made him want to plug his nose.
"The smell of blood...?"
It had been faint at first, but grew stronger with time. Yeon A-rang stopped the giggling Mak Yu-cheon and Mak Ri-yu. If they continued, they would surely encounter it. Yet returning to Seohan Express was risky—the assailants might leave at any moment.
'Should I intervene...?'
There was no need to court danger, but if it could not be avoided, he had to face it. Fortunately, he had noticed before they came face to face, so at least Geumho Express's precious children would not be in danger. That was some comfort.
Mak Yu-cheon and Mak Ri-yu looked up at him with anxious eyes after he had suddenly stopped. Patting their heads, he spoke.
"Young Master, Young Miss."
He handed them the remaining eighty copper coins from buying the candied hawthorns, along with two silver coins he carried as emergency funds.
"And take this to Seohan Express and say you came to stay for a while... no, that you came to seek shelter."
He gave them the escort flag bearing Geumho Express's insignia that he had been carrying on his back. This way, they would know the children were not vagrants but scions of a noble house.
"Oppa...?"
Mak Ri-yu called out as he tried to leave, gripping his sword tightly. Yeon A-rang relaxed his expression and replied,
"I will be back after taking care of a small matter."
*A small matter. The moment he finished speaking, Yeon A-rang's figure blurred like mist as he executed the Yeon-o-bo.