Day 3: Training Tea
As the sun climbed to its zenith, the dust and clamor of the Training Ground finally settled. Seated in the pavilion, Cheongun lightly adjusted the charcoal in the brazier. The water in the teapot bubbled up, releasing the earthy aroma of aged tea leaves.
I've got to comfort my hardworking kids.
This wasn't the cheap daily brew he usually drank. It was special Yeonmu Cha, fermented for seven years with spiritual herbs as the base ingredient, infused with a touch of his pure true energy. It was perfect for repairing meridians damaged by excessive training. Nothing could better soothe his disciples' battered bodies and minds after the morning's swordplay ordeal.
"Master, did you call for us?"
A tense voice came from outside the pavilion. Looking up, he saw all three standing silently. Despite the warm midday sun, their complexions were poor. To exaggerate a bit, they were trembling.
Aigoo, these innocent little ones.
They were clearly terrified that their master might scold them over the morning incident. He beckoned them warmly.
"Come in quickly. Don't stand out in the sun."
The three approached hesitantly and knelt on the cushions. Their postures were rigidly straight, breaths shallow. Was this master really so frightening? Nah. He'd never scolded them like that even once. They were just afraid of disappointing him.
He lifted the teapot and poured a cup for each disciple.
"Here, take this. You've worked hard this morning, so let this be your consolation. Don't leave a single drop."
Their reactions varied wildly.
Seorin picked up her cup first. Just before bringing it to her lips, her left index finger twitched slightly, slipping something under her tongue from her sleeve—a fleeting glimpse.
...A silver pill?
Holding a meridian-repairing silver pill in the mouth beforehand while drinking tea was a refined nourishing technique. She'd figured it out on her own without his guidance—Seorin's pharmacological instincts were truly exceptional.
Seorin downed the tea without hesitation.
Next, Chohee gripped her cup with both hands, wetting her lips slightly. But her throat didn't move. She seemed to be holding the tea in her mouth, savoring the aroma with bated breath.
Savoring the tea's fragrance at length. This girl's attitude toward tea is something else.
Finally, Hwaran. The moment she took the cup from him, tears welled up.
"M-Master... to go this far..."
Sniffling and glancing nervously, she barely managed to swallow.
She must have been really shocked this morning. Being the youngest, she was so delicate.
The three set their cups down simultaneously. And then—
Cough! "Ugh...!"
Moans of distress escaped Seorin and Chohee at the same time. As soon as they placed the cups down, they collapsed into lotus position, hurriedly pressing their hands to their dantians to steady their breathing. Panicked, Hwaran hastily followed her seniors.
Hoo...
He inwardly admired them. They hadn't missed the moment the tea's energy spread through their bodies, immediately entering meditation. Without being taught, their instincts to control the energy were impressive.
"Don't panic. Breathe a bit longer, circulate your inner power calmly."
"This tea won't explosively boost your inner power like some elixir. It works differently."
"Your meridians are still narrow, riddled with tiny gaps. Your dantians' walls aren't thick enough either—if you force in too much energy, they'll crack. This tea repairs those vessels and thickens the walls."
"That pressure and heaviness you're feeling now? It's your meridians expanding and dantian hardening. Endure it, but don't suppress it—let the energy flow through all your acupoints. Circulate it through the Grand Circulatory Heavenly Cycle, fully absorbing it as your own."
Their faces twisted in pain, but their postures held firm.
It's the process of reinforcing the dantian and meridians, so pain is inevitable.
Sweat poured like rain, faces contorted as they endured.
They're doing great.
Even in such agony, following their master's words made them seem so commendable.
Then, urgent footsteps approached from afar, heading straight for the pavilion across the Training Ground. Shallow breaths and clumsy lightness skill—it had to be a young Taoist boy.
Tsk.
He clicked his tongue inwardly. Interrupting deep meditation could cause energy backlash or meridian damage. In severe cases, qi deviation. How so reckless?
Without hesitation, he lightly gathered his right index and middle fingers, drawing three times toward the outside of the pavilion.
Shiiik— Shiiik— Shiiik—
He'd worried his touch might be dull from disuse, but the air's flow shifted perfectly. The air around the pavilion formed a thin, firm membrane. Not a grand technique—just spreading a wide Gimak to suppress external noise and vibrations. It was more than enough.
Outside sounds faded like distant echoes.
"Elder Cheongun! Urgent message!"
A muffled voice buzzed from beyond the barrier.
"What disaster has you panting like that? Speak slowly."
Irritation crept into his tone unbidden.
"S-Sorry! But the Sect Leader orders you to Taegeuk Hall immediately! It's extremely urgent!"
Taegeuk Hall? The Sect Leader?
Mujin must have bruised his pride and run to the Sect Leader after all. He'd meant to cover it up for the boy's face.
With a soft sigh, he rose. First, he checked his disciples. Their breathing had steadied somewhat. Good—no major issues if they continued like this. To avoid disturbing their focus with his presence, he thickened the Gimak around the pavilion another layer. Even his footsteps wouldn't leak through now.
"Understood. I'll go shortly."
Lowering his voice, he added for the disciples,
"I'll be right back. Don't stop until the tea's energy fully permeates and completes one Grand Circulatory Heavenly Cycle."
They remained immersed in training, unresponsive. No—they seemed to have sunk even deeper, unaware he'd even left. They were confronting their personal limits now.
"It's fine. It'll all work out."
Muttering briefly, he quietly turned and headed to Taegeuk Hall.
Haa...
As the pain receded, a heavy energy filled its place. Seorin probed her body without opening her eyes.
A few days ago, her forcibly widened meridians had floated unstably like ill-fitting clothes. Now, everything was different. Her dantian sat solidly, its energy calmly settled. The meridians too—once fragile enough to tear at slight strain—now circulated inner power smoothly.
The monster had enlarged their vessels. Broadened the dantian, fortified the meridians to hold more energy. So he could harvest more later.
How much... how much bigger does he want us?
In her past life, she'd seen countless vile sorceries. But none cultivated ingredients with such meticulous, flawless care.
Chohee's breathing evened out—she'd finished her Grand Circulatory Heavenly Cycle. Seorin sent telepathy without opening her eyes.
Chohee's reply came, voice shaky and unstable.
A brief silence followed Chohee's words.
Seorin was at a loss. As Chohee said, in past life memories of calling that monster "master," nothing like this happened. Just endless training and inner power refinement. So why this life? Part of a bigger scheme? Or had their actions deviated the timeline?
Hwaran's telepathy cut in.
Hwaran had been Murim Alliance's Flying Dragon Squad captain in her past life. She'd clashed with countless experts, experiencing myriad techniques firsthand. Her words demanded attention. Chohee probed the Gimak but felt nothing special, so she asked,
Hwaran's voice trembled faintly.
Seorin swallowed hard.
With just three finger snaps... he created this space?
Chohee and Hwaran fell silent. Hyeonkyeong. In their past lives, they'd pegged the monster at peak Hwagyeong. A grave misjudgment. Beyond Hwagyeong—a mythic absolute from legends. Why hide as Wudang's old elder in these deep mountains, taking them in? What scheme kept his identity veiled so long?
No guesses.
Chohee laughed bitterly.
Seorin had no retort. Chohee was right. As their dantians strengthened, the alien energy rooted at the core grew clearer. His qi coiled deep inside. If he wished, he could reclaim it anytime. Nowhere to flee in the world.
Seorin slowly opened her eyes. Outside the pavilion, sans the monster, was eerily peaceful.
With that, their telepathy ceased. Heavy silence blanketed the pavilion once more.
Until the day they severed this horrific leash, they had to play the part of obedient, devoted disciples. Perfectly.