162. The Eternal Snows of Gireun Mountain Have Not Yet Melted, So It's Never Too Late to Return
“Perfect timing. You've arrived just in time.”
Gong I-gwan hurried down from the pavilion and bowed to Won Seung before inviting him up.
All eyes followed Won Seung as he ascended the pavilion.
“Please show us the sect leader's token.”
At Gong I-gwan's words, Won Seung pulled out the iron plaque and displayed it.
“I am Pung Un-saeng, the eighteenth sect leader of the Cheondaemun. It's a pleasure to meet my fellow Cheondaemun disciples.”
“……”
A hush fell over the group. The disciples' gazes darted between the iron plaque and Won Seung. Finally, an elderly man spoke up. He appeared to be in his mid-fifties.
“With ten thousand flowers, one crafts a thousand poisons; with a thousand poisons, one creates a hundred medicines.”
Won Seung responded in kind.
“The eternal snows of Gireun Mountain have not yet melted, so it's never too late to return no matter when you go back.”
Dok Goe's response to the secret code phrase he'd shared with his fellow disciples prompted the elder to nod.
“I am Jang Go On. So you're… that means you're Junior Brother An's disciple… I never heard that he had taken one. Where is Junior Brother An now?”
As Gong I-gwan's master and Dok Goe's immediate junior, Jang Go On was effectively the most senior member of the Cheondaemun.
“My master has passed away.”
The news darkened Jang Go On's face.
Won Seung drew a letter from his bosom—the one Dok Goe had given him when passing on the sect leadership.
He handed it over, and Jang Go On read it before passing it to the gray-haired man seated beside him. This one also looked to be in his mid-fifties, but with a larger build.
That must be U Mun-bi.
U Mun-bi finished reading and returned it to Jang Go On.
“It matches Junior Brother An's handwriting.”
With that, the two rose and formally bowed to Won Seung.
“Cheondaemun disciple Jang Go On pays respects to the sect leader.”
“Cheondaemun disciple U Mun-bi pays respects to the sect leader.”
As they introduced themselves in perfect unison, the others in the pavilion rose in confusion but offered their respects to the sect leader as well.
Gong I-gwan whispered to Won Seung.
“No matter how much I told them, they wouldn't believe me.”
Gong I-gwan shot a triumphant look at the group. Aside from Jang Go On and U Mun-bi, everyone else looked awkward at the sudden appearance of such a young sect leader.
Won Seung returned the bow to Jang Go On and U Mun-bi.
“I've heard much about you two martial uncles. As your martial nephew, please speak freely with me. And…”
Won Seung also bowed toward the second-generation disciples.
“In the Cheondaemun, seniority among peers is determined by age… so these must be my martial brothers. I ask that you speak freely with me as well.”
“No, we can't be disrespectful to the sect leader.”
Won Seung straightened his posture and spoke gravely at Jang Go On's words.
“You all know the Cheondaemun's circumstances. Though I've inherited the leadership from my master, how could I act as sect leader without returning to Dok Valley to enshrine the ancestral tablets of my master and ancestors? For now, just the bare minimum of formalities will suffice. Of course, I won't tolerate any disruption to the sect's order.”
The solemn words moved Jang Go On and U Mun-bi deeply.
“The sect leader may be young, but his thoughts run deep.”
They proceeded to introduce their disciples and grand-disciples one by one.
“You know Gong I-gwan, and these are Gu Seon and I Seon-chil. These children are grand-disciples…”
Jang Go On's disciples were Gong I-gwan, Gu Seon, and I Seon-chil, each of whom had taken on Hwang U-yun, Yuk Yeok-bo, and Ju I-in respectively. U Mun-bi also had three disciples: Dong Euk-jin, Sang Gwan Jeong-mun, and Jang Do, who in turn had taken U Gyeong, Han Ju-yeo, and Bak San-ju.
Including me, that's fifteen in total. Quite sparse.
Among the third-generation disciples, only the women Ju I-in and Han Ju-yeo were around Won Seung's age; the rest appeared older. It was an odd sight: the youngest across three generations had become sect leader. Jang Go On and U Mun-bi accepted it as natural, treating their senior brother with utmost respect. The second-generation disciples seemed to honor their masters' will, but the third-generation ones showed subtle discomfort.
Their sense of identity as a sect is a bit weak.
To be fair, even Won Seung had learned poison arts first and only later learned of the Cheondaemun. The third-generation disciples eyed each other distantly, suggesting little interaction among them.
It made sense upon reflection. Cheondaemun disciples posed as physicians, scattered mainly around the imperial capital and Henan. Patients didn't cluster in one spot, so second-generation disciples would set up practices in remote areas upon independence, and their third-generation disciples would do the same—unlikely to cross paths.
That Jang Go On and U Mun-bi still identified strongly as Cheondaemun was a blessing. They'd been young when escaping Dok Valley, yet had held onto their roots.
No outright opposition arose as feared, but learning the sect's sand-like fragility made Won Seung sigh inwardly.
At this rate, forget revenge on the Dang Clan—we'll be lucky to keep the sect alive.
How many would follow if he proposed rebuilding in Gireun Mountain's Dok Valley? Without Jang Go On and U Mun-bi, it might simply dissolve.
As Won Seung took his seat, Jang Go On spoke.
“We were just debating the antidote for Sam-o-dan-sim-san.”
Sam-o-dan-sim-san? What a coincidence.
“We need an antidote within two days, but opinions are split.”
“Oh? And how do they differ?”
From what he gathered, Jang Go On's faction favored direct detoxification, while U Mun-bi's pursued toxin-neutralizing detoxification.
“Attempting toxin-neutralizing without knowing the exact components of Sam-o-dan-sim-san is extremely dangerous.”
“Martial Brother, that's precisely why we use toxin-neutralizing. You know it's a Dang Clan poison. They layer double and triple traps in their creations. Treating symptoms alone could lead to fatal results.”
Won Seung knew the components and antidote for Sam-o-dan-sim-san, but he listened quietly for now.
Jang Go On's side leaned toward medicine, U Mun-bi's toward poisons. Fraternal bonds seemed strong, but as opinions clashed, voices rose. With the two at an impasse, second-generation disciples chimed in to support their masters. Soon, it devolved into chaotic chatter.
A medicine-poison showdown?
The third-generation disciples merely blinked amid the shouting ancestors and masters.
Then Gong I-gwan turned to Won Seung.
“Sect Leader, what do you think?”
All eyes turned to him. Though called sect leader, his youth had excluded him from the debate. The second- and third-generation didn't know his master was Dok Goe—Jang Go On and U Mun-bi had kept An Yeon-haeng's identity secret.
The two knew their senior brother excelled in poison arts but doubted Won Seung had learned properly—he seemed too young.
No one expected much, but out of respect for the sect leader at Gong I-gwan's prompting, they listened attentively.
“Seeing my disciples debate so vigorously fills me with joy.”
First, a word as sect leader.
“Let me see both prescriptions.”
Won Seung examined Jang Go On's and U Mun-bi's prescriptions. The third-generation eyed him skeptically—what does he know?
Won Seung was inwardly impressed. Both would work, though with minor aftereffects. Impressive without knowing the exact components.
Worthily of the Cheondaemun.
He nodded.
“Hmm. Both prescriptions would succeed in detoxification. However, Martial Uncle Jang's method would take considerable time for full recovery, while Martial Uncle U's… would leave slight aftereffects.”
“!”
“……?”
Silence fell. Was he speaking from knowledge, or bluffing?
Finally, Jang Go On asked.
“Does the sect leader know the antidote for Sam-o-dan-sim-san?”
“How could the Cheondaemun sect leader not? I know its components too.”
At Won Seung's gesture, Gong I-gwan fetched brush, ink, and paper. Won Seung took the brush, wrote “Sam-o-dan-sim-san,” then swiftly listed the toxic herbs, components, pharmacological effects, and antidote prescription.
“!”
All gaped at his fluid strokes.
Won Seung slid the completed prescription forward.
“From now on, every Cheondaemun disciple must be able to neutralize something like Sam-o-dan-sim-san on the spot. We have a long way to go.”
“……”
“……”
Jang Go On and U Mun-bi hurriedly examined it.
“Oh!”
“Ah… so that's the herb. That's why…”
They exclaimed in admiration. Their gazes toward Won Seung brimmed with shock. The prescription passed to the second-generation, then third. No one could close their mouths. If this spread, the Dang Clan's secret poison would become commonplace.
Gong I-gwan beamed proudly.
“I told you, didn't I? The sect leader would know when he arrived.”
He had reason to welcome Won Seung warmly. Amid the earlier heated debate, he'd suggested the sect leader might resolve it, only to face skepticism: How do you know? Isn't he a fraud? You got duped!
Won Seung asked.
“But why seek the antidote for Sam-o-dan-sim-san? Who's poisoned?”
U Mun-bi replied.
“Someone commissioned it, and we agreed to provide the antidote.”
He picked up a paper from the table, listing key herbs and symptoms. Some herbs were missing, sparking the debate between Jang Go On and U Mun-bi.
These components… from the Hao Clan.
Hmm. Go Yeong-ju… said it was a trade secret. But now I know.
Won Seung felt a quiet satisfaction.
Staying at the U Family Clinic, Won Seung observed the Cheondaemun disciples.
Scrawling the Sam-o-dan-sim-san prescription on first meeting had instantly established his authority as sect leader. Even the third-generation bowed their heads before him.
Won Seung had initially despaired—how to fight the Dang Clan with this ragtag bunch?—but realized they had unexpected value. Medicine and poison arts demanded sharp minds, so though few, they were all clever with deft hands.
He instructed Hwang U-yun to procure heaps of herbs for Boheoldan. Go Yeong-ju had ordered a hundred pills; making them alone would take ages.
“Here's the Boheoldan recipe. Try making them as instructed.”
Won Seung gathered the third-generation disciples to produce Boheoldan. Cheonghyeol Bogyunghwan was a Cheondaemun secret formula, but Boheoldan was Dok Goe's invention—a tonic granting a year of internal energy cultivation for martial artists, or vitality and longevity for ordinary folk.
The third-generation disciples diligently crafted the Boheoldan and presented them to Won Seung.