Chapter 159: The Growth of Seok Myeong (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 159: The Growth of Seok Myeong (1)
“This way.”
Song Gwan had just stepped out of the Green Martial Hall on his way to see the Sect Leader when he encountered an unexpected figure.
It was a middle-aged man wearing a deep hood. Clad in black cotton robes with only his eyes visible, he looked every bit the part of a secret agent at first glance.
Is he from the Azure Sky Pavilion?
Song Gwan followed him without a word.
The middle-aged man did not head toward the paved path leading to Chaoyang Cave, but instead veered in a different direction. It was a treacherous trail where narrow bedrock barely covered the soil. Even though Song Gwan had spent his entire life at Qingcheng, it was a path he had never seen before.
“Was there such a path within our sect?”
“There is. Not many people know of its existence.”
Song Gwan thought he saw the man offer a faint, knowing smile.
Is it Elder Song Ji?
Come to think of it, the Green Martial Hall was under Song Ji’s jurisdiction. The path leading behind it was a place no one could approach without the express permission of the Qingcheng Sect’s First Elder. In other words, it was a forbidden zone of Qingcheng.
Crackle. Crackle.
After walking for a long while, a bamboo forest appeared. It was another hidden space within the Azure Sky Pavilion. Song Gwan looked around and nodded. Indeed, entry would be impossible for anyone who wasn't at the Elder level or specifically permitted.
“It is inside there.”
The masked man’s words were short and concise. He pointed toward a building nestled next to an old zelkova tree, where not a single flicker of light could be seen. Song Gwan nodded.
Whew.
For some reason, approaching the long-standing power and deep secrets of Qingcheng made him feel a volatile mix of excitement and tension.
*
“You’ve come, Song Gwan.”
The room was shrouded in shadow. The lamps were dimmed so that no light would leak outside, and heavy curtains draped everywhere to block both sound and light. Inside, Sect Leader Song Jeong sat in a chair and greeted Song Gwan.
“Song Gwan and four others of Qingcheng have returned safely, Sect Leader.”
Song Gwan spoke while clasping his hands in a formal salute.
Briefly, an old woman bowing her head beside the Sect Leader caught his eye. She was clearly wearing an Azure Sutra Robe, marking her as a Qingcheng swordsman. However, as far as Song Gwan could remember, there was no such person among the sect's ranks.
He shook his head, dismissing the thought. He knew that showing curiosity about a secret organization would bring no good. He prioritized his duty.
“I have a report, Sect Leader. Some trouble arose during the Martial Demonstration Gathering. It was none other than…”
“You don’t need to explain that. I already know.”
The Sect Leader cut Song Gwan off and offered a benevolent smile.
“Leave your sword over there and come sit. There is something I wish to ask you.”
“…”
Song Gwan followed Song Jeong’s instructions for now. After placing his sword in a wooden box and taking a seat, Song Jeong asked with a serious expression.
“I’ll get straight to the point. On the day the first generation disciples of our sect fought the Diancang Sect, what were you doing?”
“Mmm.”
Song Gwan groaned inwardly. He felt that the moment of reckoning had come. Just as he bit his lip to offer an apology, Song Jeong waved his hand.
“I know what you’re thinking, but I’m not trying to reproach you.”
“Pardon?”
“The other elders of the Nine Great Sects all witnessed the scene where a hidden master of Diancang oppressed our first generation disciples. Every single one of them.”
Song Jeong emphasized the word "all."
“In other words, it was a situation orchestrated by people looking out for their own interests. Had you been there, such a thing could never have happened. Do you understand what I am saying?”
“Mmm.”
Only then did Song Gwan understand the implication. He alone had fallen into a deep sleep since early evening. It was truly strange. And in the meantime, that absurd incident had occurred.
“Now that you mention it, there are some strange aspects. At the time, after recovering from the fatigue of the journey and exchanging brief greetings with the elders of each sect, I sat in my assigned room and unpacked. Then…”
“Then?”
“I fell asleep. What’s strange is that I didn't intend to sleep; I clearly had tasks in mind. The journey hadn't even been that grueling, yet an overwhelming drowsiness washed over me. I only realized this later; I didn't even notice it at the time.”
“Hmm.”
Song Jeong turned his head. He looked at the hooded old woman wearing the Azure Sutra Robe. She thought for a moment before answering.
“It must have been a sleep-inducing drug.”
“Is that possible?”
“Elder Song Gwan’s internal energy is not that deep. If the Martial Alliance knew that and prepared accordingly… there are several ways they could have done it.”
At the old woman’s words, Song Gwan’s face flushed slightly.
“I beg your pardon, but you seem to think too lightly of me. I didn't even drink a single cup of tea provided by the Martial Alliance. I have at least that much precaution…”
“If you say so, then it might have been incense.”
The old woman shifted her theory at Song Gwan’s words.
“Incense? You mean incense that induces sleep?”
“Ah!”
When Song Jeong asked, Song Gwan slapped his knee.
“Now that I think about it, Seok Myeong said something like that. He said that when he opened my door to find me, there was a subtle, faint scent of medicine in the room.”
“…Then it’s certain.”
The old woman’s hood tilted slightly. Song Gwan was someone who had gone to the Martial Demonstration Gathering with a heavy responsibility. Regardless of his internal energy, he was not the type of person to forget his duties and fall into a comfortable sleep—especially during the scuffle involving the Qingcheng Sect, the explosions caused by the Giant Demon, and the chaos that turned the Martial Alliance upside down. Being in a deep sleep through all that was not normal.
“Among the scents that make people fall asleep, there are such things. Extremely minute amounts. A scent that penetrates the body with just a brief breath… and the source of such miraculous incense is naturally limited.”
With those words, the old woman gave a faint smile.
“If we analyze the scent remaining on Elder Song Gwan’s body, we can find out what kind of incense it was and who used it. Then we can catch the tail of the culprit.”
“Is that possible? Quite a bit of time has passed.”
Song Jeong asked. Song Gwan also wore a troubled expression. Although they had left the Martial Alliance in a hurry, quite a bit of time had passed as they traveled through mountain paths. He was skeptical that a minute amount of medicinal substance from the sleep incense would still exist on a body covered in sweat, grime, and the pollen of the forest.
“It remains.”
However, the old woman was firm. Staring at Song Gwan, she curled the corners of her mouth and pointed out something unexpected.
“The human body absorbs and breaks down drugs. But the history of it remains. Right here.”
She tapped her head.
“In the hair.”
*
“Whew.”
After leaving the Green Martial Hall, Seok Myeong walked around the grounds to shake off the fatigue of the journey. It was peaceful. Since Mount Qingcheng was at a high altitude, a cool breeze blew around this time. Spring flowers were in full bloom after the harsh winter. Seeing the clear, bright sky, all the events at the Martial Alliance felt like a distant dream.
Buzz, buzz.
As Seok Myeong wandered, he passed a certain building. Three young men, who appeared to be first generation disciples, flinched the moment they saw him. They offered greetings, but the atmosphere was awkward and strained, unlike usual.
It’s because of the rumors.
Seok Myeong’s face turned bitter. At one point, under the Sect Leader’s guarantee, the Qingcheng Heart Method and his sword techniques had been verified. But not long after that, malicious rumors had spread far and wide across the Jianghu.
He wasn't particularly hurt. His position within Qingcheng had always been weak. However, unlike the indifferent gazes of the past, the way they looked at him now—as if they were afraid of being punished just for being associated with him—was deeply uncomfortable.
Step. Step.
Seok Myeong unconsciously walked further to avoid the crowds. He reached the Palace of Heavenly Luck, a place mainly used as a training ground by the first generation disciples. And as expected...
“…Sigh.”
The disciples who saw Seok Myeong either greeted him briefly or quickly avoided him. Some young men even watched him from a distance with suspicious eyes.
It’ll be like this for a while.
Seok Myeong sat on a flat rock with a light sigh. Until an opinion was gathered within Qingcheng, or until some news arrived from the Martial Alliance, he would have to live with this discomfort.
Sitting in the lotus position, Seok Myeong soon fell into deep thought.
— Can you prove it’s not a demonic art?
— Pardon?
— Not abstractly like last time. I mean a definitive method that anyone can see.
Song Ji’s question remained lodged in his mind. It was truly paradoxical. He understood the First Elder’s concerns, but the fact that he had to prove his martial arts at all was ridiculous. If this energy were truly demonic, it would have been impossible for him to walk around so intact in the first place. He would have been suffering from immense side effects.
— If that becomes a problem… Eldest Disciple. What will happen to us now?
Nevertheless, the one thing that bothered him was that the Qingcheng Heart Method was a martial art that had never been created before, just as Seok Jun had said. That thought caused ripples in Seok Myeong’s calm heart.
If it’s wrong, then I…
What would happen? If it was a martial art that was neither a demonic art nor a traditional orthodox martial art. What would happen if it was a martial art not recognized in the Jianghu? And how should he prove such a thing? Even if he did prove it, how would he convince the people of the Nine Sects who were already blinded by prejudice?
An achievement that would make even the hostile people of Diancang acknowledge him—that was the great task given to Seok Myeong.
“Excuse me. Eldest Disciple…”
“…?”
Someone approached and spoke to Seok Myeong, who was lost in thought.
“Isn't that Seok Ho?”
A look of welcome appeared on Seok Myeong’s face. Seok Ho was a first generation disciple who mainly worked at the Gamu Cave and occasionally visited the Azure Cloud Pavilion.
“I heard you had arrived… Are you feeling alright?”
“Hahaha. It’s good to see you like this. Why wouldn't I be alright?”
“…”
When Seok Ho hesitated, Seok Myeong laughed again.
“Why? Are you afraid of me?”
“…How could that be? If anything, I trust you more now. Didn't you teach those Diancang Sect fellows a lesson?”
With those words, Seok Ho sat right next to the rock where Seok Myeong was sitting. Seeing that, Seok Myeong chuckled and said, “So, what is it? Do you have another worry?”
He was a fellow who used to come and ask whenever he hit a wall in his martial arts training. Seok Myeong figured it was the same this time.
“Well, you see. A few weeks ago, perhaps I performed my breathing exercises incorrectly, but turbid energy seeped into my Dantian.”
As expected, Seok Ho continued with a long sigh.
“And this damn turbid energy—no matter how much I try to refine it, it won't change. It remains like a lump, getting in the way. I’m worried something might go wrong while I’m training. Well, that’s why I came to get some advice. After all, Eldest Disciple, you are top-notch at solving cultivation errors, aren't you?”
“Hmm.”
“Please check my pulse and tell me what’s wrong. And how I can drive out this cursed turbid energy.”
“Let’s do that.”
With his answer, Seok Myeong took Seok Ho’s pulse.
Thump. Thump.
The pulse was irregular. Seok Ho’s symptoms were a phenomenon that Taoists occasionally experienced during cultivation. Cultivation is essentially taking the energy of heaven and earth into the body. That natural energy accumulates and becomes internal energy.
However, not all energy in heaven and earth is pure. Sometimes, turbid or abnormal energy that doesn't match the practitioner’s energy is drawn in. What are called high-level heart methods are usually ways to filter out even this turbid energy and accumulate only pure energy.
“When do you usually perform your breathing exercises?” Seok Myeong asked after checking the pulse and sensing the internal energy for a while.
“I do it whenever I have time, from early dawn until late evening.”
“What about meals? When do you usually eat?”
“I eat on time. I even had breakfast on the day the turbid energy entered.”
“What time do you sleep?”
“I usually sleep before the Hour of the Pig and wake up around the Hour of the Rabbit.”
“Was it raining that day?”
“It wasn't raining, but it was very cloudy.”
“That’s the problem.” Seok Myeong nodded.
“Pardon?”
He continued, looking at Seok Ho, who had a puzzled expression.
“It might seem trivial, but cultivation is also affected by the weather.”
“The weather?”
“Cultivation is essentially accumulating the energy of the harmony of heaven and earth in the body. Generally, if the energy is damp or the weather changes suddenly, the practitioner must slightly vary their method. The reason is the fluctuation of Yang Qi and Yin Qi.”
Seok Myeong took the opportunity to explain what he knew in detail. For instance, Yang Qi was strongest at noon, and Yin Qi was strongest at midnight.
The act of setting out a bowl of pure water and praying to the gods of heaven and earth is, unknowingly, the act of receiving water with the strongest midnight Yin Qi to contain a person’s prayer.
“Just as even a bowl of water is affected by the time and weather, the human body is naturally affected even more. Even with meals—whether one eats sparingly, is a vegetarian, or skips meals—a practitioner must perform different training depending on the circumstances. It seems the weather and your body’s condition that day didn't match.”
“So that’s how it works.” Seok Ho, who had been listening blankly, asked seriously, “Then what should I do?”
“Mmm.”
Seok Myeong pondered. Usually, in such cases, one would ask their master to resolve the symptoms. But the reason Seok Ho was asking so worriedly must be because the change in his body was surprisingly large compared to usual.
“Well… for now, you should stop your breathing exercises for a while and start by observing the inside of your body. There must have been some change in your body, so it would be good to confirm that and then resume your exercises accordingly.”
“…Sigh.”
Seeing Seok Ho’s face, which showed he had no clue, Seok Myeong gave a bitter smile.
“Actually, the best way is to extract the turbid energy…”
“…?”
Seok Ho wore a puzzled face. Seok Myeong, who had been explaining lightly, had suddenly frozen stiff.
“Senior?”
“…”
“Senior.”
“Seok Ho. What did I just say?” Seok Myeong, who had been lost in his own thoughts, looked at Seok Ho and asked.
“It felt like something was about to come to mind, but then it suddenly vanished. What was it? What was I saying to you?”
For a moment, it felt as if forgotten pieces were clicking into place in his mind. Seok Myeong tried to grab hold of it, but the brief flash of insight hid itself again.
“That… that I should extract the turbid energy.”
“Ah!”
The moment Seok Ho repeated it, Seok Myeong slapped his knee.
Turbid energy. And Demonic Qi.
One is a general example of corrupted energy, and the other is an example where corruption has occurred to the extreme. The flowing Qi of the Taoist sects is generally pure energy. The Buddhist sects and the prestigious Orthodox sects are mostly the same.
But.
“That’s the way! Turbid energy! It was turbid energy!”
“…Pardon?”
He didn't even notice Seok Ho’s bewilderment. Seok Myeong had an intuition. A way to prove that the Qingcheng Heart Method was not a demonic art.
Turbid energy is classified as miscellaneous energy. It interferes with pure energy. However, Demonic Qi does not care about turbid energy. Whether it is turbid energy, pure energy, or even the will of the caster, it is a ferocious energy that devours everything in its path.
In other words, if what he had learned was a demonic art, let alone his will, the regulation of turbid energy could never happen. More accurately, it should be impossible. That was the established theory of the Jianghu.
“I’ve got it. Turn around and sit.”
“Eldest Disciple…?”
“I will return all your energy to normal right now.”
Heat flared in Seok Myeong’s eyes as he brought his hand to Seok Ho’s Gate of Life Acupoint.
There was a way. And it was very close by. A way to prove his innocence that no one could refute.