The Riddle of the Three Dantians
Namgung Woo and Paeng Ye-ryeong were the ones exchanging these trivial questions and answers. The location was the very same training cave where the two of them had first transmitted the Gongryeong Taeheo Singong.
Since they were now in a master-disciple relationship, Paeng Ye-ryeong had taken the instruction to “think of each other as fellow disciples” quite literally and began calling Namgung Woo “sa-hyung.”
“But sa-hyung, don’t you already know everything about it?”
“…At first I thought I did. In reality, I knew almost nothing.”
Theoretically, he understood the art well enough to teach Paeng Ye-ryeong. Yet the moment real combat began, what Namgung Woo ultimately relied on were the familiar Changgung Daeyeon Singong and Cheonroe Jewang Singong.
The three dantians—upper, middle, and lower. Namgung Woo had not yet achieved harmony among them.
Paeng Ye-ryeong spun slowly in circles around him, watching with keen eyes as he tried to sink into meditation. She tilted her head, looking puzzled.
“But sa-hyung, you’re a Hwagyeong expert, right?”
“…That’s true.”
“Then the three dantians should be in balance, essence, energy, and spirit united, achieving the Three Flowers Gathering at the Apex and reaching the state of Five Qi Returning to the Origin, right?”
“…If we’re only talking about the depth of my internal energy.”
Apparently dissatisfied with his answer, Paeng Ye-ryeong puffed her cheeks like a balloon and narrowed her eyebrows.
“That’s strange.”
“…What is?”
“If only the depth of your internal energy has increased, that means among essence, energy, and spirit, only your qi has grown. How could you have become a Transcendent Realm expert without achieving the Three Flowers Gathering at the Apex?”
How had he become a Transcendent Realm expert? It was something Namgung Woo himself wanted to know.
Why had he reached Hwagyeong? Was it simply because he had received the understanding of a Hwagyeong martial artist and knowledge of divine arts? Or because he had inherited a heavenly body connected to the Cheonhyeon through the Changnyeongmanan?
If so, why had others who possessed innate physical talent, enlightenment passed down from others, and scholarly knowledge of martial arts failed to reach Hwagyeong?
The answer to the mystery surrounding him, Namgung Woo realized, must lie within that very difference. The thought struck his mind like a hammer.
“Ye-ryeong-ah.”
“Y-yes?”
It was the first time he had called her name so directly. Even Paeng Ye-ryeong let out a momentarily dazed voice.
“I think I’ve caught onto something….”
Namgung Woo looked at her with half-lidded eyes and spoke firmly.
“Get out.”
“……Okay.”
Over the past few days, after spending time with Paeng Ye-ryeong discussing the Gongryeong Taeheo Singong, Namgung Woo had come to understand how the art should truly be handled.
Paeng Ye-ryeong trudged out of the training cave and spotted her older sister lingering near the entrance. She immediately scampered over.
“Sister? What are you doing?”
“U-um? Oh, it’s you, Ye-ryeong. You were here too?”
Paeng Ye-ryeong nodded, then used her fingers to mime what she had just done.
“Sa-hyung went inside, so I followed. Sneakily. Shhh.”
Paeng Ye-ryeong had always possessed an inherently faint presence. Even Paeng Ja-ryeong, a Transcendent Realm expert, would often miss her unless he deliberately focused his senses. Although her Heavenly Gate had begun to close and she was gradually regaining a more human aura, the change was still minimal. If one added her naturally modified Miheo Shinbo—created through her heavenly comprehension—then unless the observer was at the absolute limit of the Transcendent Realm, noticing her would be extremely difficult.
One would probably need something on the level of the rumored Salmaekju’s stealth techniques to match Paeng Ye-ryeong’s subtlety.
But no matter how impressive her younger sister’s martial prowess was, this was a matter that required a stern scolding from her as the older sister. Paeng Ha-ryeong clenched both fists with firm resolve, placed her hands firmly on her hips in a posture that declared she would not let this slide lightly, and rebuked her.
“You mustn’t follow Eungong while he’s training and disturb him. Even if you’re learning the same art and he might need advice, you should make an appointment in advance and receive proper instruction. Showing up so rudely like this puts Eungong in a difficult position, you know.”
“Sister.”
“What? Are you reflecting?”
“Sister, are you the one who made an appointment and waited?”
“…….”
Paeng Ha-ryeong’s confidence crumbled in an instant. Paeng Ye-ryeong stared at her with half-lidded eyes and lightly poked at the truth.
“Sister?”
“…That’s… not exactly wrong.”
The strength left the hands on her hips, and Paeng Ha-ryeong’s entire demeanor deflated.
“Ah, I see.”
Paeng Ye-ryeong suddenly said this and glanced toward her sister’s lower abdomen.
“You used it all up, didn’t you?”
“Ugh…!”
Paeng Ha-ryeong let out a sound like someone struck in a vital spot. She did not possess anything like Namgung Woo’s Changnyeongmanan that could uncover every secret in the world, nor the transcendent senses of supreme experts like Paeng Hu-sang or Gwak Dan. But she did have her heavenly comprehension, and she remembered how proudly Paeng Ha-ryeong had shown her the new power she had received.
“Are you here to get more?”
“I-it’s not only because of that…”
Paeng Ha-ryeong fidgeted with her fingers, her voice trailing off.
The thunder energy she had received from Namgung Woo—the Cheonroe Singi she had carefully stored in her middle extreme acupoint—had been completely exhausted. Even for Paeng Ha-ryeong, it was a shame. The Gangroe Sword Art—more precisely, the Geon-gon Hoengroe Do—was an art she could not even begin because her internal cultivation method did not match it and she lacked the innate power. Yet with the Cheonroe Singi, she could wield it freely.
For a martial artist walking the path of rivers and lakes, a hidden trump card with true destructive power that the Yeonhwan Talbaek Do lacked would be an incredibly reliable dagger. Moreover, the warriors of the Paeng family held the long-cherished wish of mastering all five of their clan’s secret blade arts. To Paeng Ha-ryeong, who had only learned the Yeonhwan Talbaek Do and Cheolhyeol Jeokseong Do, it was an unbearably sweet temptation.
But she had no choice. The Black Tortoise Lion she had faced was a master a full level above her. Saving her trump card in that situation would have been nothing short of a suicidal luxury.
“Still, I did try to leave a little bit…”
Paeng Ha-ryeong’s shoulders drooped weakly. She had hoped that if even a tiny amount remained, she could use it as a foundation later to cultivate the Paeng family’s Honwon Byeokryeok Singong and grow her thunder energy. But in her spar with Namgung Woo, going all out had simply…
“You’re an idiot.”
“…I just wanted to at least brush against his collar.”
Paeng Ha-ryeong pouted in defense. It was hard to tell who was the older sister and who was the younger. Before Paeng Ye-ryeong had escaped her heavenly affliction, Paeng Ha-ryeong had always tried to act mature and reassure her. Now that such effort was no longer necessary, she had become far less restrained in her behavior.
“It was the middle extreme acupoint, right? The place where sa-hyung’s energy was.”
“Yeah.”
“Hmmm. Sister, are you even aware? Sa-hyung is a man. Asking him to put his essence there is a bit… even for me, it feels off.”
“That’s not why I asked!”
Paeng Ha-ryeong’s face turned bright red as she shouted. The outburst seemed to snap her back to her senses. She glanced nervously toward the training cave, worried her voice might have carried inside.
“The training cave has good soundproofing, so it won’t be heard. So why were you waiting out here, sister?”
“They said the clothes were finished. I was going to go check them with Eungong.”
The Hebei Paeng family had already gifted Namgung Woo a set of martial robes woven from spirit silk, but those were ready-made. They had not been tailored perfectly to his body. Originally they had planned to present him with custom-made garments, but creating martial robes with special materials was an extremely difficult task that required time. Since Namgung Woo had to leave for Beijing immediately, he had not been able to wait for them to be completed.
“Ah, sister.”
Suddenly realizing there had been a flaw in her earlier words, Paeng Ye-ryeong called out again.
“What now?”
“…When I came out, I didn’t close the door.”
After all, this training cave had been given entirely to Namgung Woo for his exclusive use by the Paeng family. It had essentially become his personal training ground. Since no one else would sneak in except her, Paeng Ye-ryeong had reasoned that it was better to leave the door wide open than to make noise closing it and disturb his meditation.
“A-ah…”
Paeng Ha-ryeong’s face, which had just returned to its usual fair complexion, flushed red once more as she turned toward the training cave… and spotted Namgung Woo standing at the entrance with an awkward expression.
“Well… shall we go look at the clothes?”
“How do you find it? We used the highest-grade spirit silk employed in crafting the Paeng family’s martial robes, interwoven with the spider silk of the Dark Shadow Spider Lord. The result is this exceptional fabric.”
Namgung Woo moved his body this way and that, examining the clothes he now wore. The black martial robe with its subtle luster followed the Goryeo style, as was typical for garments from prestigious families. It resembled a cheollik among hanbok, but unlike the usual narrow, long-sleeved version, it had a slightly fuller cut that tightened firmly at the wrists. The sleeves were perfectly proportioned to his arm length, ensuring it functioned flawlessly as martial attire. With a few modifications, it was more than suitable for a martial robe—exactly as one would expect from clothing later used as everyday wear by military officials.
“The silk of the Dark Shadow Spider Lord is truly marvelous. It possesses elasticity, so no matter how violently you move, the garment will not tear. Furthermore, it has the power to withstand sorcery, meaning ordinary spells will not even dare to touch your honored body.”
The seamstress working for the Paeng family spoke with clear pride in her masterpiece.
Spider silk, huh. A familiar material.
People often thought spider silk was weak, but while it was thin, it possessed truly outstanding properties. By equal mass, it was more than five times stronger than steel. In the world Namgung Woo had come from, it had been common to weave cloth from spider silk or even create garments using genetically modified spider silk. It had received considerable attention as a cutting-edge fabric.
In this world, however, there was no need for advanced genetic engineering. One could simply obtain far superior silk from spirit beasts or demonic creatures that had undergone natural mutation.
Though the awkward atmosphere was still plainly visible, Paeng Ha-ryeong did her best to act natural.
“The Dark Shadow Spider Lord is considered a demonic creature one rank above the Molting Ghost Net that Eungong captured. Unlike the Molting Ghost Net which yields nothing useful, its silk is incredibly rare—so much so that there are even cases where people deliberately refrain from closing Ghost Gates to harvest it.”
Like some kind of farm?
“Does the imperial family allow that?”
“They turn a blind eye to it in secret. The silk of the Dark Shadow Spider Lord is something even the imperial family desperately wants but cannot obtain. While there are materials rarer than it, the only one that can be consistently acquired is heavenly silkworm thread.”
It was less a question of whether the material existed and more a question of whether it ever appeared on the market. Even if one ignored the Dark Shadow Spider Lord’s silk, there were better materials for martial robes or armor, but they were so rare that obtaining them was nearly impossible. Heavenly silkworm thread performed far better than the spider silk; one might wonder if anything could truly be superior, yet it was produced in surprisingly steady quantities. This was because the imperial family and a very few other places secretly raised heavenly silkworms.
“I’ve received another precious gift.”
“Please don’t say that. What Eungong has done for the Paeng family is far greater. If I could, I would melt down all the black iron in our clan to forge you even a single blade, but… Eungong already possesses something far more precious.”
“Sister, even if you gathered all the remaining black iron, it would barely amount to two taels.”
“…That’s why I said ‘if I could.’”
Namgung Woo watched the sisters bicker with a gentle smile. At the same time, the outline of his next destination was beginning to take shape.
The place that could process the horn of the Mangcheonhu—something even the Paeng family’s forge, which handled small amounts of black iron, had given up on as beyond their ability.
That would be his next stop.