Friends (5)
“……”
Im Pilsaeng, who had laid Jin Yeo-rip on the infirmary bed, couldn't hide his bewilderment.
Jin Yeo-rip had lost consciousness. He'd only meant to infuse some energy to steady his pulse before showing him to the physician.
But for some reason, the energy inside his body wasn't responding to forward circulation—it kept pushing back.
Why?
If it was Shaolin's heart method, even foreign true energy should have blended smoothly.
As Im Pilsaeng, filled with doubt, poured in a bit more energy—
“Eek!”
His eyes went wide.
Jin Yeo-rip's internal energy suddenly reacted to his own and began flowing along the reverse path.
Qi Deviation? From a single punch?
He suspected as much, but Jin Yeo-rip's expression was utterly serene.
And wasn't his energy flowing so naturally?
In that moment, Im Pilsaeng recalled how Jin Yeo-rip had grilled him relentlessly about the Reverse Heaven Method.
No way… he learned a Reverse Heaven heart method?
With only the ceiling in view, it felt like the sky had turned yellow in Im Pilsaeng's eyes.
“Whew, what in the world is going on here?”
“……?”
“I heard you ended up like this sparring with the family head? Whew, you should've been more careful. Anyway, your energy might be damaged, so let's check your pulse first.”
As Im Pilsaeng struggled with the absurdity, the Hwangbo family physician—who had rushed over after hearing the news while eating—approached Jin Yeo-rip.
“Hold on a second!”
“Pardon?”
“I've already checked his pulse.”
“Even so……”
“I said I've checked it.”
“Heh heh, who's arguing? But a warrior's hand and a physician's are different. I need to examine him myself for an accurate prescription……”
“Hey, physician! I'm Gwiyeong! Gwiyeong! You don't trust me? I already checked him!”
“Pardon?”
Im Pilsaeng finally bellowed, glaring fiercely, and the physician couldn't conceal his shock.
What about Gwiyeong?
As a physician familiar with the murim world, he'd heard all the rumors about Shandong's top swordsman.
“Just prescribe some medicine already.”
“……”
“Something like a strong tonic should do.”
The physician scowled, clearly offended by Im Pilsaeng's words.
If that's all you need, why come to the infirmary? Why summon me?
They'd said it happened in the family head's quarters, so he'd rushed over without finishing his meal.
That guy who supposedly killed three hundred on Mount Tai seemed to have a notoriously prickly personality.
What's the point of being stubborn? No good would come of it. The physician called over his assistant maid.
“You there?”
“Yes.”
“They say he needs a tonic, so prepare a hearty one with ginseng, astragalus, and atractylodes.”
“Understood.”
The physician issued the curt order, shot Im Pilsaeng a glare, and spoke in a tone thick with irritation.
“Looks like you don't need me anymore, so I'll be going!”
With that, he stormed out.
“Calling me for no reason and making a fuss.”
His mutter as he left rang clear, but Im Pilsaeng said nothing.
He knew he'd been rude.
He felt sorry for the physician who'd come running.
But he had no choice.
Warriors and physicians walked different paths—a physician wouldn't infuse energy to check circulation, but what if…?
If the physician somehow realized Jin Yeo-rip was cultivating a Reverse Heaven heart method…
It would spell trouble.
The Ak family's stigma of colluding with the Demonic Cult had only just been lifted.
If word got out that its scion was practicing a Reverse Heaven heart method, disaster would strike again.
“Haa, damn it. Young master, what have you gone and done?”
Im Pilsaeng sighed, approached Jin Yeo-rip's side, and slumped down powerlessly.
But after mulling it over, something felt off.
The depth of Jin Yeo-rip's energy had matched that of Hwangbo Wonpyeong, who was firmly at the Tanggi realm.
He'd even blocked Hwangbo Mungang's punch infused with internal energy.
It had been just a year since returning to Cheongeumbang.
Was that even possible?
His skill in techniques could be chalked up to innate talent—he'd seen it himself, so it made sense.
But internal energy was different.
In just one year?
That would mean he'd started cultivating at Shaolin…
“Then why didn't Shaolin know?”
His worries deepened with that thought.
A Reverse Heaven demonic art.
If Shaolin knew, they wouldn't have let it slide.
Those who despised demons would have taken measures—for the future, at least sealing his dantian with Anti-Demon Barrier flames.
Yet they hadn't.
Why?
“Hm.”
Im Pilsaeng narrowed his eyes and checked Jin Yeo-rip's pulse again.
He'd been too shocked by the reverse flow last time to examine properly.
Now, he focused his mind and probed the internal energy flowing through Jin Yeo-rip's body.
“Heh!”
There was circulation, but his dantian was empty?
It was full of void.
What trick was this?
There had definitely been energy before.
After concentrating so hard that sweat beaded on his forehead, Im Pilsaeng finally spotted a strand of hidden energy in Jin Yeo-rip's three meridians.
“Huh? Pure energy?”
It scattered like a lie the moment he sensed it, but that sensation was unmistakably the pure energy produced by orthodox heart methods.
Reverse circulation, but infused with pure energy?
Was that possible?
It made no sense in his understanding, so Im Pilsaeng withdrew his hand from the pulse and frowned down at Jin Yeo-rip.
“Young master, what exactly did you learn at Shaolin?”
It was an unsolved mystery.
At least there were no traces of demonic energy—that was a relief.
“Guess I need to head to Shaolin after all.”
That was the only way to quench his curiosity.
Nothing would change.
Even if he'd learned reverse circulation, Jin Yeo-rip was still his master.
He just needed to know the details.
That way, he could respond if something happened later.
As sighs filled the air, hurried footsteps approached.
“Huh? It's real?”
“……?”
“Father, seriously. When something like this happens, call me too. He's always so gruff.”
Hwangbo Wonpyeong had arrived at the infirmary.
He must have just heard about the incident in the family head's quarters.
“Ah, are you Gwiyeong by any chance?”
“That's me. Name's Im Pilsaeng.”
“Gwiyeong for real! What an honor. I've always admired Shandong's top swordsman.”
“A title I discarded long ago.”
“Discarded? Nonsense! I've wanted to meet you forever. I grew up hearing your stories until my ears wore out.”
Im Pilsaeng gave a wry smile at Hwangbo Wonpyeong's excited demeanor.
Then—
“Ugh.”
“Young master!”
As Jin Yeo-rip stirred awake, Im Pilsaeng—who had greeted Hwangbo Wonpyeong—rushed over.
Jin Yeo-rip, freshly awakened, clutched his chest against the throbbing pain and grimaced.
“Are you alright?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Fine aside from the pain. Was I out long?”
“Not too long. A bit over half a shichen.”
“Half a shichen.”
Repeating the words, Jin Yeo-rip glanced around.
The infirmary…
Of course—he'd passed out, so the physician must have—
Wait. Treated already?
His heart sank.
What if…
“Good thing you woke up without the physician's help.”
“Huh? Then…?”
“I was just about to call him.”
Jin Yeo-rip finally breathed a sigh of relief at Im Pilsaeng's words.
He hadn't checked the pulse, it seemed.
What a relief.
“Whew, the Hwangbo family head went too far. A punch in a spar with his junior? I gave him an earful.”
“You did?”
“Damn right! Had to. I'm your guardian!”
Jin Yeo-rip, who had been tense, let out a chuckle as Im Pilsaeng thumped his chest.
At least it was fine.
Im Pilsaeng's normal expression suggested no one else had examined him.
“Still, I had the physician prescribe a tonic.”
“A tonic?”
“Yep! Only right. If he knocks someone out, he owes compensation. Told them to use the best ingredients—should do your body good. Heh heh heh.”
“Lucky me.”
As Jin Yeo-rip nodded, Im Pilsaeng grinned slyly on purpose.
To hide that he knew the truth about his condition.
What good would revealing it do?
If he was hiding it, there was a reason.
When the time came, he'd surely explain.
If not, that was fine too.
It was his master's will.
“Yeo-rip!”
While the two talked, Hwangbo Wonpyeong—who had been waiting patiently—announced himself with a booming voice.
“Huh? You?”
“Forgot already? Hwangbo Wonpyeong, young master of the Hwangbo family.”
“Ah……”
How could he forget?
That obsessive yellow aura, massive build like father like son, and booming voice.
But Jin Yeo-rip's face suddenly twisted.
“You!”
“Sorry about that!”
“……Huh?”
“I totally misunderstood you. Ha ha ha!”
“……”
“I don't even know how to apologize properly.”
Before Jin Yeo-rip could speak, Hwangbo Wonpyeong laughed heartily and scratched his head.
The quick apology was nice, but… laughing?
“Why the casual speech?”
“Huh? Aren't we the same age?”
Jin Yeo-rip made a dumbfounded face.
What kind of guy is this?
Same age means casual with everyone?
That wasn't hearty—it was rude.
Jin Yeo-rip narrowed his eyes sharply, but Hwangbo Wonpyeong didn't care, just kept laughing.
“Come on, what's wrong with friends being casual?”
“Friends?”
“Yep! Obviously. Guys our age exchange punches, boom—friends.”
“Ha! Bullshit.”
No way it'd end pleasantly.
Who was to blame for this mess?
“Kekeke, what a mouth on you. Not bad, though. With skills like yours, you can afford to be rough.”
“What?”
“You were amazing.”
“……”
“First time I've blacked out like that. Thought I was the best among peers with fists.”
Jin Yeo-rip, who'd been fuming at the constant grin, sighed.
How could he stay mad at that laughing face?
Especially in the Hwangbo estate.
“Heard you went a few rounds with my father too?”
“Tch, what about it? Got hit and passed out right away.”
“Still, they say his forehead was red as a beet. That's impressive. Never even grazed him myself. Was it that Ak family fist art you use?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“Knew it. Father kept praising it. Said the Ak family's spear arts are top-notch. He knows everything about that legend Ak Hwi—even treats him like a saint.”
Hwangbo Wonpyeong stuck out his tongue in admiration, pulled up a chair, and sat in front of him.
“But weren't you at Shaolin? How's it there? Did you learn martial arts too?”
“……”
“Heard you're great at external arts and internal energy cultivation. Lucky. Never left Je-nam myself.”
Hwangbo Wonpyeong was incredibly sociable, a real talker.
But it didn't bother Jin Yeo-rip.
That straightforward, hearty personality lifted his spirits.
Friends…
Come to think of it, he had no peers his age.
There were branch family kids, but hierarchy kept them distant—no real heart-to-hearts.
“Say something. I'll buy you a drink. Or just here?”
“Drink here?”
“Yeah.”
It was tempting, but… he was the patient, and this was the infirmary.
Drinking in a sickroom?
Jin Yeo-rip tilted his head skeptically, but Hwangbo Wonpyeong was already ordering his escort warrior.
Plenty of liquor and snacks.
What an irredeemable guy.