Chapter 163: Taiji Empty Heart (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 163: Taiji Empty Heart (1)
Rustle.
Seok Myeong quickly stood up and bowed in respect. He had realized that the figure emerging from beneath the ancient tree was none other than Song Hak.
"The Master of the Azure Cloud Pavilion holds quite a leisurely position, it seems. Do you think the Sect Leader entrusted you with this post just so you could sit here wallowing in self-pity?"
As always, his voice was characteristically prickly.
Seok Myeong had heard it so often that it no longer bothered him. Instead, he maintained his polite posture and asked sincerely, "What do you mean by those words?"
"Hmm?"
"That I haven't completely mixed them. Will something change if I do?"
"…It will change. Of course it will."
Song Hak turned his head away, looking slightly uncomfortable. He gestured with his chin toward a large, flat rock below, situated right where a small waterfall of Mount Qingcheng cascaded down.
"On a sunny day, have you ever looked at the mist beneath a waterfall?"
"I have."
"How many colors did you see?"
"Are they not blue, yellow, red, white, and black?"
At Seok Myeong’s answer, Song Hak let out a short, dry laugh.
"Right. We usually speak of five colors. Westerners see seven… regardless. What is the original color of the sunlight that contains all those mixed colors?"
"…."
Seok Myeong took a moment to reflect.
Though they weren't on the best of terms, Song Hak was undeniably an Elder of Qingcheng. He wasn't the type of man to maliciously deceive a first-generation disciple who was sincerely seeking guidance. There was surely a lesson to be found here.
"Sunlight is… bright light. If I had to choose a color, it would be white."
"How did a blockhead like you figure that out?" Song Hak asked, his tone mocking even though he was inwardly surprised.
"I used to play with tops when I was a child. A top painted with various colors… appeared white when it spun rapidly."
"Hoh."
Song Hak was momentarily speechless.
What he had been trying to explain was a profound mystery of martial arts. Yet, as Seok Myeong said, the same principle could be found in a child's game.
In truth, it wasn't strange. Ultimate mysteries often begin with simplicity. Was it not said that even the legendary Zhang Sanfeng's Taiji Wisdom Sword was inspired by watching children play?
Song Hak felt a pang of bitterness once again at Seok Myeong’s brilliance.
"Those damn Azure Cloud fools."
"…?"
Seok Myeong looked puzzled and then slightly offended. Even that reaction made Song Hak’s stomach churn with envy.
The boy was diligent to the point of stupidity and doggedly persistent. In other words, he was the perfect disciple.
Before considering physical build or martial talent, he possessed the most important quality: innate character. Had he learned orthodox martial arts, he would have achieved greatness—immense greatness. To think he wasted his life being seduced by heterodox sword techniques like those of the Azure Cloud Pavilion… what a waste of talent.
"…You are right. All colors in nature are derived from white light. White is the completion of all things." Suppressing his inner ache, Song Hak shook his head. "Then let’s look at pigments instead of a spinning top. Do you know what color you get if you mix red, green, and blue dyes?"
"I have never tried, so I do not know."
"It is the color of ink. A dull gray, just like your sword aura."
"…!" Seok Myeong’s mouth hung open in shock.
"The colors on a top reflect light, so they shine white. But pigments that absorb color turn black. Did you think you had refined your demonic qi? That is nothing but groundless arrogance."
"…."
"If you had truly returned the turbid energy of demonic qi back to nature, it should emit a white, clear light. Like the sun. But your sword aura is a filthy, pitch-black color. Forget refinement; you are barely managing to control it."
"Then… then what should I do?"
Seok Myeong felt as if he had grasped a clue. When he asked urgently, Song Hak snorted.
"How should I know? Am I an Azure Cloud Taoist?"
Song Hak let out a refreshing, mocking laugh. Then, as if to tease the annoying brat, he pointed out the facts one by one.
"Demonic qi is originally natural energy that has merely been corrupted? Therefore, it can be returned to its original state? Nonsense. That is only true in theory. Can you turn the soot left from burnt wood back into a tree? Can you turn rusted iron filings back into a steel sword?"
"…."
"Spilled water cannot be gathered back into the cup. Corruption is corruption because it is irreversible. It is impressive that you realized a dream that exists only in theory, but in the end, control is all you have. Purifying energy and turning it back into internal energy is a monumental task. Do you think you are some kind of once-in-a-century genius?"
"…Whew."
Seok Myeong couldn't answer and simply sighed.
Thinking back, Song Hak had always scolded him. He had warned him that he was walking a path with a clear end, a dangerous path where he would lose his way. And those words were proving to be exactly right.
The Qingcheng Heart Method Seok Myeong was currently practicing was an untrodden path. It was a snowy trail where no one had stepped before. As Song Hak said, no one could show him the way, and no one knew what side effects might manifest later.
As his thoughts reached that point, another realization struck Seok Myeong.
"…Martial Uncle."
Perhaps.
Perhaps Song Hak hadn't poured out those harsh words simply because he hated him, but because he felt frustrated and sorry for the future Seok Myeong would have to face.
That thought crossed his mind.
Ssh.
Their eyes met, and Song Hak suddenly looked up at the sky before speaking bluntly again.
"A messenger from the Alliance came by."
"…Pardon?"
Song Hak spoke coldly. "Because of the incident at the Martial Demonstration Gathering, an envoy who could be called the Martial Alliance Leader's right hand visited. He spouted some nonsense about how Qingcheng's martial arts are suspected of being linked to demonic arts, and that we should submit all sect activities to inspection."
"What!"
"There is no need to be surprised. That man, Ji Jung, is from the Diancang Sect. He barks out all sorts of excuses, but in reality, it’s likely a grudge over the death of his sect's master."
"…."
Seok Myeong’s expression hardened.
If a figure equivalent to the Alliance Leader's right hand had visited, it should have been an official delegation. Yet, none of the first-generation disciples knew of such a visit. This meant it had been conducted in extreme secrecy.
"Hmph. Looking at your face, it seems you finally realize what kind of storm your actions have brought. Well? What does the new Master of the Azure Cloud Pavilion intend to do now?"
At Song Hak’s mockery, Seok Myeong bowed his head respectfully. "I am sorry. I, your disciple, will take responsibility."
"…Responsibility? Have you gone mad! Who do you think you are!"
Song Hak erupted in a furious roar. Seok Myeong flinched. It was an entirely unexpected reaction. He had answered thinking Song Hak was telling him to take the blame, yet the man was enraged.
"Does taking down one hidden master of Diancang and a couple of Giant Demons make you think you're above the world? Do you think we are some lizard's den that cuts off its own tail using a disciple's mistake as an excuse? No matter how much you soar, you are still just a first-generation disciple!"
"…?"
"Does our Qingcheng look so light to you! The events at the Alliance are the responsibility of the leader, Song Gwan! And the ones who sent Song Gwan as our representative are the Sect Leader and us, the Elders of the Song generation! Who are you to talk about taking responsibility?"
"…."
Seok Myeong nodded. He wasn't entirely sure why, but he could feel that Song Hak’s anger wasn't directed at him. That was why he could speak his mind.
"It is my responsibility, Elder Song Hak."
"…What?"
"Elder Song Gwan was in an unnaturally deep sleep at the time. And Seok Jun and Yeon-hui were caught in Diancang's deliberate provocation. I was the one who was absent, I was the one who failed to prevent the clash between my juniors, and above all, I was the one who struck ruthlessly even though I knew the opponent was an important figure of Diancang. Therefore, I am the only one who should take responsibility."
"Hah?"
Song Hak was momentarily speechless at the calm delivery. He had always found Seok Myeong’s meddlesome behavior frustrating, but today it was simply too much.
"…Just what is your reason for this? Are you now trying to deceive your elders? I heard from Seok Jun's own mouth that he was the one who drew his sword!"
Song Hak finally brought up his own son's mistake, which he had been avoiding. But Seok Myeong’s response was even more absurd.
"I… truly want to become the Eldest Disciple."
"What?"
What was he talking about now? While Song Hak doubted his ears, Seok Myeong shook his head with a bitter face.
"Until now, I have never shown my juniors what a proper leader looks like. Not even once. So, for once, I intend to show them."
"…."
Whish.
A sudden cold wind swept between the two, rustling the fallen leaves. Under the moonlight, Seok Myeong’s face as he knelt appeared haggard.
"Simply because I was older, because my entry rank was higher, I was an Eldest Disciple in name only. I failed to show the martial prowess, the character, or the capacity to unite my juniors. That is why Jun always rebelled against me."
"…."
"This journey to the Martial Alliance… it gave me much to think about. During our difficult journey back, Jun suddenly spoke to me. He said he had been jealous of me. Only then did I realize my own shortcomings and lack of consideration."
"…Hah."
"If a junior walks the wrong path, one must scold them; if they are lacking, one must encourage them. There are weak people and strong people. An Eldest Disciple should have been someone who possessed the wisdom and took the responsibility befitting that position. Yet, I irresponsibly neglected that role, hiding behind the excuse of the Azure Cloud Pavilion's mission."
Ssh.
Seok Myeong bowed his head low. He now entreated Song Hak with the same etiquette one would show a master.
"Therefore… all of this is my responsibility. Just as Sect Leader Song Jeong takes all responsibility for the Song generation, the one who must take responsibility among the first-generation disciples of the Seok generation is me, Seok Myeong."
"…."
"I beg of you, Taoist Song Hak. Please allow me to take responsibility as the Eldest Disciple. Give me the chance to undo my shortcomings and my wrong choices."
"…Ha."
Song Hak’s expression became complicated. The boy wasn't asking for the power of the Eldest Disciple; he was asking for help to bear the responsibility of one—even while knowing how heavy that burden was.
As always, he was a difficult fellow to deal with.
"What an absurd brat." Song Hak turned his head away in lamentation. Then, as if he couldn't stand to look at him any longer, he turned around abruptly. "Two days left."
"…Pardon?"
Whoosh!
By the time Seok Myeong asked back, Song Hak was already flying far away, nearly out of sight. Seok Myeong wondered for a moment if he had misheard.
"Two days?"
The last thing Song Hak said was likely the remaining time—the limit Seok Myeong had to prove himself.
He said they weren't mixed.
Seok Myeong bit his lip, reflecting on Song Hak’s words. Song Hak was the greatest master of the Qingcheng Sect, second only to the Sect Leader. Until now, Seok Myeong had thought the man simply opposed the Azure Cloud Pavilion's martial arts out of personal spite, but if that wasn't it…
It meant that in Song Hak’s eyes, there was something in his internal energy that hadn't blended—an impure part.
The spinning top. Colors. Light. Black ink energy.
Seok Myeong decided to truly look into Song Hak’s words. They weren't properly mixed. At that thought, something suddenly occurred to him.
The fact that they weren't all mixed. Those words could also be interpreted to mean that only two of the three energies had blended.
If so, it meant there was one that remained unmixed.
It was the Taiji Empty Heart!
The Qingcheng energy and the demonic qi had naturally become one, but the center—the Taiji—had not yet manifested its true power.