A Fisherman's Wisdom
Namgung Woo stared directly at Paeng Hu-sang standing across from him. The Peng Family Head held not his combat blade but an ordinary training saber. A vast, turbulent aura swirled around his body.
"Then let's begin."
With that declaration, a storm of energy erupted like a typhoon and slammed into Namgung Woo with ferocious force.
How had it come to this?
In the space of a single breath, Namgung Woo recalled the moment it all started.
Quite some time had passed since he settled in Tianjin, and he had begun considering when it might be best to move on. The chaos that erupted in Beijing had now spread across the world in earnest. Around the time the Hebei Peng Family's enormous contributions to quelling the turmoil shook the entire Murim world with their resounding fame, Namgung Woo sought out Paeng Hu-sang to decide on his next destination after leaving the Peng Family.
Though his personal bonds ran deeper with Paeng Ha-ryeong and Paeng Ye-ryeong, the true head of the Peng Family was Paeng Hu-sang. Out of proper etiquette, it was only right to inform the Family Head of his itinerary.
After stating his intention to depart the Peng Manor, Namgung Woo asked whether Paeng Hu-sang could recommend an exceptional forge capable of working the horn of the Mangcheonhu. The Peng Family Head answered immediately.
"Benefactor, do you happen to enjoy fishing?"
As had been mentioned several times before, Tianjin was both an inland city and a port connected to the Grand Canal. Yet even without the canal, it was a near-sea city whose coast could be reached in a single day. Embraced by two great waterways and the sea, Tianjin offered no shortage of rivers and lakes.
The Grand Canal had been so thoroughly shaped by human hands that it no longer supported much aquatic life, but there were still many fine fishing spots around Tianjin. The place Paeng Hu-sang led him to, however, was special even among those.
It was a fishing ground reserved exclusively for members of the Hebei Peng Family. Since the Peng warriors rarely enjoyed fishing, it might as well have been Paeng Hu-sang's personal retreat.
The two men had changed from their martial uniforms into ordinary clothes. They sat side by side at the water's edge. Though he had never fished before, Namgung Woo had absorbed the basics from videos and the proud stories of acquaintances. He followed Paeng Hu-sang's instructions with surprising ease.
Once his line was in the water, Namgung Woo asked the man beside him, "Do you enjoy fishing?"
"Not particularly. But it has become a hobby of mine."
At first Paeng Hu-sang had addressed Namgung Woo with the utmost respect befitting a benefactor. After Namgung Woo asked him to speak comfortably, however, the Peng Family Head switched to the familiar casual tone he used with close companions.
A tale from the past flowed from Paeng Hu-sang's lips.
"When I was a boy, I had quite the fiery temper."
His tone suggested he had long since outgrown such things. Had anyone been present to offer a second opinion, they would have foamed at the mouth while listing every reckless exploit the man had committed. Unfortunately, this fishing spot belonged to the Peng Family alone.
"My late father told me to try fishing. At first I found it nothing but annoying. I hated wasting time on anything that wasn't martial arts. As you'll soon discover, fishing is a surprisingly tedious affair."
Some people found joy in it, but Paeng Hu-sang was not among them. Nevertheless, he continued to fish. Not merely because it was his father's command, but because he had come to his own realization.
"Why do you suppose Taegongmang kept his hook three inches above the water?"
"The anecdote of 'Three Inches from the Water,' you mean?"
It was a famous enough story that even Namgung Woo remembered it. Taegongmang—also known as Jiang Taigong—was the figure most commonly associated with fishing. Though the reference seemed somewhat abrupt, Jiang Taigong held considerable renown in martial circles as well. The idiom Taegong Fishing had become the name of a famous technique that reversed an opponent's force to disarm them. Moreover, Taegongmang had attained divine status in Taoism, which meant martial arts based on his philosophy genuinely existed.
"In the past I dismissed Taoist martial arts as nothing but outdated formalities full of empty ritual. I learned otherwise. What I needed back then wasn't something to be sought hastily from the outside world, but something to be found within myself. Once I understood that, the walls inside me crumbled."
Namgung Woo realized Paeng Hu-sang was not merely lost in nostalgia. The man was offering guidance—to him, who still could not properly wield his upper dantian. To him, who had lost the harmony of essence, qi, and spirit, and relied only on the overwhelming depth of his internal energy and the supreme power of advanced martial arts to display the strength of a Transformation Realm expert.
"...You knew?"
"I had a vague sense of it. During your battle with Lee Ja-ryong at Mount Wanse, you barely used the upper dantian's power. An upper dantian art capable of closing Ye-ryeong's Heavenly Gate should be a divine skill without peer, even compared to the sorcery that wretch commanded."
"I did borrow its power to break his spells, yes."
"Just because a man is born with swift legs does not mean we call his running a supreme divine lightness technique."
The words had been wrapped in utmost politeness out of respect for his benefactor, but their meaning was clear: That power exists only because you were born with a special body. Struck squarely in his core, Namgung Woo closed his mouth.
Paeng Hu-sang gave a small chuckle, reached into his robe, and produced a book. He handed it over.
"Take it."
"This is...?"
Namgung Woo accepted the volume and read the title on its cover.
Geumgyegyeong
Geumgyegyeong. The Scripture of Ascension. The title clearly belonged to a Taoist text or something very much like it.
"It's a sorcery manual. Also a Taoist scripture."
"I see."
Paeng Hu-sang gripped his rod as it twitched with a bite and continued, "I obtained it during our recent journey. Before I knew of you, benefactor, I considered it my last hope."
To close his youngest daughter's Heavenly Gate, Paeng Hu-sang had exhausted every possible means. Among all the results he had gathered over the past several years, Geumgyegyeong was the most valuable and held the greatest potential.
"The title is likely provisional. I had a sorcerer I know examine it, and the man nearly fainted. He said it masterfully weaves together various Taoist scriptures with genuine sorcery techniques. The level is extraordinary. But now our Peng Family no longer has any need for it."
Paeng Hu-sang recalled how Paeng Ye-ryeong's once-wide Heavenly Gate had begun to narrow. She had learned to control her upper dantian and was now managing the gate through her own power. Hope was no longer necessary. Salvation had already been granted.
"I will give it to you."
"...To me?"
"Reading Taoist scriptures is good, but Zhuangzi and Laozi are far too metaphysical and difficult for immediate study. And to survive the treacherous rivers and lakes of the Murim, one must possess at least some knowledge of sorcery. Geumgyegyeong would serve you well for both learning Taoist principles and deepening your understanding of spells. If you master it properly, you should even be able to hold your own in conversation at the Maoshan Sect."
The Maoshan Sect—headquarters of sorcery within the orthodox Murim. In this age when Ghost Gates had opened and sorcery had risen in value until it stood shoulder to shoulder with martial arts, Maoshan had proudly taken its place among the Nine Great Schools.
A sorcery text unknown even to Maoshan? Its value was beyond measure. Should its existence become widely known, a storm of blood would not be surprising.
Namgung Woo could not fully grasp the book's true worth, yet he understood clearly that it was far more precious than the martial uniform woven from the Shadow Lord's threads. It might even surpass the Mangcheonhu's horn that Commander Gwak Dan had left him as a final gift.
Because of this, he hesitated to speak, wondering if he truly had the right to accept it.
"If you have no use for it, burn it. Once it has left my hands, its return would only bring trouble."
"...Then I will gratefully keep it with me."
At the answer that left open the possibility of returning it later, Paeng Hu-sang clicked his tongue inwardly. A man should possess spirit and ambition, yet in his eyes Namgung Woo's one flaw was his excessive adherence to etiquette. Sometimes one needed to set propriety aside and act boldly.
That is a matter that can be corrected over time.
Harboring thoughts Namgung Woo would never guess even if he died and returned to life, Paeng Hu-sang flicked his fishing rod upward. A rather large fish flapped vigorously as he proudly lifted it.
"Did you see that?"
"It's well over a foot long. Congratulations."
"Hahaha. Indeed."
Paeng Hu-sang laughed with deep satisfaction and released the fish back into the water with a gentle toss.
Behold such mercy. This was surely the magnanimity expected of the master of the Hebei Peng Family.
Feeling Namgung Woo's gaze brimming with respect, Paeng Hu-sang decided to drive the lesson home with the second move he had prepared.
"By the way, you have never yet experienced the upper dantian's power within the realm of martial arts rather than sorcery, have you?"
"No, I have not."
"Excellent. Then it would be good for you to feel it once. They say hearing a hundred times is not as good as seeing once, seeing a hundred times is not as good as experiencing once. Come now, prepare yourself and let us return. I shall personally allow you to experience the true essence of Peng Family martial arts!"
Having exhausted a full year's worth of classical anecdotes in a single day, Paeng Hu-sang urged Namgung Woo to hurry as he returned to the Peng Manor with great enthusiasm.
And that was how Namgung Woo had come to stand across from Paeng Hu-sang in the training ground.