Chapter 353
On an unbearably cold winter dawn,
Bu Eun-seol slept soundly, carried on the back of his grandfather, Bu Jan-yang.
Even though he had been told repeatedly to go inside because of the freezing weather,
Bu Eun-seol, determined to help his grandfather,
had worked tirelessly in the morgue through the bitter cold.
And so, he had fallen ill.
"If this old man directly infuses True Qi to unblock his meridians, he'll recover quickly."
Bu Jan-yang turned his head slightly, glancing at the sleeping Eun-seol, and murmured softly.
"But that would only be a temporary measure. If I do that, he'll just fall sick like this again."
Pausing briefly, he smiled faintly.
"It's about time I teach him how to generate True Qi and circulate it through his meridians."
Bu Jan-yang began reciting the Divine Art Dharma Text to the deeply sleeping Eun-seol,
like a lullaby.
It was a profound martial technique—one that allowed the user to synchronize their own body with the Internal Energy circulation of anyone they touched.
"This Heavenly Robe Mind Art—as the name suggests—is like wearing heavenly garments. It grants you miraculous abilities in an instant."
Bu Jan-yang continued in a low voice.
"Once you master this secret art, not only will you be able to discern this old man's True Qi circulation, but you'll also be able to synchronize with it immediately."
But Eun-seol was fast asleep, unable to hear his grandfather's words.
Yet, in his mind, the characters of the dharma text Bu Jan-yang recited were being branded like a Fire Brand.
Wisdom-Light Mind Speech.
Bu Jan-yang was forcibly implanting the dharma text into Eun-seol's mind using the Buddhist School's esoteric technique.
And the deeply sleeping Eun-seol, unconsciously, began learning the secret art passed down by Bu Jan-yang, mimicking his True Qi circulation.
"Nonsense."
Suddenly, Eun-seol, who had been sleeping soundly on Bu Jan-yang's back, opened his eyes.
Then, in a voice filled with disbelief, he spoke.
"Even if there are countless martial arts in the martial world, how could there possibly be a secret art that allows one to discern another's True Qi circulation?"
Pouting slightly, he added,
"If such a technique existed, wouldn't it allow one to steal the Internal Energy Methods of every sect under heaven?"
At that, Bu Jan-yang smiled.
"You think it doesn't exist?"
"Of course not."
Eun-seol nodded firmly.
"I'd even bet on it."
Passing down an Internal Energy Method was comparable to the effort of raising a child into adulthood.
If one could instantly steal such a complex and profound True Qi circulation—
Wouldn't that sect either rise as the Number One Sect Under Heaven, towering over the martial world,
or be annihilated under the joint assault of the Orthodox and Unorthodox Paths?
That was how crucial an Internal Energy Method was to a sect.
"Hohoho. So, now that you've become a martial artist, you've studied Internal Energy Methods quite a bit, have you?"
Bu Jan-yang chuckled warmly.
"You're right. There is no technique in this world that allows one to steal another's True Qi circulation."
Then, lowering his voice, he continued,
"But there could very well be a secret art that allows one to synchronize with another's True Qi circulation."
"Synchronize?"
"That's right."
Bu Jan-yang spoke in a gentle tone—
"If you could temporarily synchronize your body with another's True Qi circulation, wouldn't that be the same as discerning their Internal Energy Method?"
"Synchronization... I see."
As if struck by enlightenment, Eun-seol's entire body faintly glowed.
And his consciousness, having taken one step out of the illusion,
watched the scene of himself being carried on his grandfather's back.
The conversation between Eun-seol and Bu Jan-yang that had taken place upon waking—
It had never actually happened.
It was merely a soliloquy conjured by Eun-seol's mind as he observed the illusion.
Because within his mind,
the Heavenly Robe Mind Art that Bu Jan-yang had imprinted through Wisdom-Light Mind Speech truly existed.
'The Heavenly Robe Mind Art...'
As Eun-seol recalled the dharma text Bu Jan-yang had unconsciously imprinted,
he gradually began escaping the Inner Demon, regaining his sense of self.
Crack. Shatter—
Then, within the illusion, the scenery of his grandfather and Peaceful Burial House
began breaking apart like glass.
And Eun-seol's consciousness fully returned to reality.
When he opened his eyes, he saw A-yeon, her body writhing as if burning in agony.
'With this secret art... it's possible.'
Having awakened from the illusion, Eun-seol summoned the Heavenly Robe Mind Art.
Then, reaching out, he slowly grasped her Pulse Gate.
At once, the True Qi flowing within his body
began mimicking the True Qi circulation occurring within A-yeon's.
Whoosh—!
Instantly, the True Qi that had been circulating through the Reverse-Polarity Mind Method
shifted to flow in accordance with A-yeon's Nurturing Spirit Secret Origin Divine Art.
Simultaneously, a faint light began to shimmer once more between Bu Eun-seol's brows.
The Sword Pavilion's Internal Energy Method differed from orthodox cultivation techniques—it simultaneously tempered both the lower and upper dantians.
Not only did it accumulate formidable internal energy, but it also sought to fortify the spirit and mind.
This is an overly greedy method, one could say.
However, such a technique was difficult for disciples of ordinary talent to master.
Especially if one forced qi circulation without first solidifying the foundation of their internal energy, not only could their true qi fracture, but even their spirit might split into two.
As a sect of women, they must have needed greater strength.
The Martial World's history had been particularly harsh on female sects.
Yet the Sword Pavilion stood tall precisely because it had devised this strange and marvelous method of opening both dantians simultaneously.
Here's the blockage.
Bu Eun-seol, who had been synchronizing with A-yeon's qi circulation, sensed discomfort in her lower abdomen.
There lay the Qi Sea Acupoint, the reservoir where energy accumulated like a sea. Within it, remnants of Cold Ice True Qi remained, not yet fully expelled.
Because of this, the flow of True Yang energy had not been smooth.
Huuung!
Bu Eun-seol immediately deployed the Qi Absorption Art from the Glacier Thousand Streams Art.
At once, the Cold Ice True Qi pooled deep within her Qi Sea Acupoint began to be drawn back into his own body.
Sssshhh—
The moment the frigid energy vanished, A-yeon's dantian warmed, and color gradually returned to her complexion.
Two days should be enough for full recovery.
Bu Eun-seol, watching over A-yeon, allowed a faint smile.
With the cold qi completely purged, by dawn, she would be fully restored.
But there's no need to wait two days.
Focusing his mind, Bu Eun-seol once again summoned the Nurturing Spirit Secret Origin Mind Art.
By infusing Reverse Polarity True Qi in a manner similar to the Sword Pavilion's Internal Energy Method, her recovery would accelerate.
Uuuung...
Before long, a solemn radiance spilled from Bu Eun-seol's forehead.
And into A-yeon's Great Vertebra Acupoint, he began pouring an unbroken stream of immense true qi.
A-yeon was dreaming.
To be precise, through the illusions of the Spirit Summoning Secret Voice, she was reliving fragments of her past as if in a dream.
Her earliest memory was of an old inn.
Creeeak—
Pushing open the worn door, A-yeon fixed her gaze on a man seated by the window.
Thick brows, a straight nose, long hair cascading loose—his beauty was blinding, yet his aura carried a solemn loneliness.
The moment their eyes met, lightning seemed to pierce her skull.
Fate.
Something in his gaze made her feel an inexplicable destiny.
What am I even thinking?
Steeling herself, she approached and spoke coldly:
"Langya Pavilion's Ten Demonic Heir, Bu Eun-seol. Correct?"
The instant their eyes locked, her breath caught.
His unfathomable pupils brimmed with sorrow. At the same time, a peculiar sensation crawled up her spine, unsettling her mind.
In the end, she had to summon the Mysterious Art just to maintain eye contact.
"Since your emergence in the Martial World, you've slaughtered Great Righteous Experts without cease. Do you admit this?"
At the time, A-yeon had ventured into the Martial World to eliminate the Ten Demonic Heir, who had been cutting down these paragons of justice.
And after countless trials, she had finally found him.
But this man was beyond reason.
"Disciple A-yeon of the Sword Pavilion challenges you."
She declared it boldly, yet—
"I refuse."
His answer was unexpected.
"Take this path and ask the Martial Alliance Leader why the Ten Demonic Heir had no choice but to fight the Great Righteous Experts."
As it turned out, there was a story between them—one she hadn't known.
Reluctantly, she decided to travel with him to uncover the truth.
But that journey was far from easy.
Because it was a path of blood.
Despite being the Ten Demonic Heir, he was hunted by masters of the White Horse Monastery and the Hell-Blood Citadel.
Yet his martial prowess was peerless, and he never yielded to any crisis or trial.
Moreover, after defeating his enemies, he would always examine the scars on their corpses to refine his own techniques.
You're a strange one.
At first, she had assumed he was just another ruthless fiend of the Demonic Path.
But the longer she watched, the clearer it became—his demeanor was cold, but within his chest burned the unyielding Martial Soul of a true warrior.
Moreover, his martial arts were in no way inferior to her own.
"I am Song-ak, a disciple of Wudang."
Finally breaking through the encirclement of Hell Blood Citadel and White Horse Temple, this time it was Song-ak, a Great Righteous Master of the Wudang Sect, who came to challenge him.
I don't want to see this.
That man of the Demonic Path was not a bad person.
And Song-ak, too, was pure and clear as an autumn breeze.
For the first time, A-yeon hesitated to observe another's sword techniques.
She didn't want to watch the two of them cross blades only for one to die.
I should go back.
In the end, she returned to the Sword Pavilion.
And immersed herself deeply in the Sword Dao.
To become strong enough to rival that man of the Demonic Path.
So that if they ever met again, she could test her skills against his.
—They say the Heir of the Demon Hall annihilated the Five Poisons Sect and uncovered traces of systematic child abductions.
Before she knew it, that man had become the Heir of the Demon Hall.
And coincidentally, the Sword Pavilion was investigating the child abduction cases.
—I will personally go to the Demon Hall and request information.
Without a moment's hesitation, she headed for the Demon Hall.
And at last, she saw him again.
Though time had passed, the man's appearance hadn't changed in the slightest.
Even after rising to a high position, his sorrowful gaze and lonely aura remained the same. And his blood-soaked, solitary gambler's spirit was still there.
The only thing that had changed was the level of his martial arts.
Unlike when she first saw him, he had now ascended to unfathomable heights—so much so that she couldn't hope to close the gap in a short time.
—I challenge you.
She thought that if she fought him again, she might uncover the secret behind his astonishing martial progress.
But he told her to first face his subordinates.
And though she gladly fought them, in the end, she narrowly defeated a man named Yu Un-ryong.
If even his subordinate was no easy opponent, then a duel with him would be nothing short of certain defeat.
The gap was so vast that there might be nothing to learn from it.
Do I not even have the right to face him?
Deep down, she already knew.
That if she crossed blades with him, defeat was inevitable.
But she insisted on the duel anyway.
She held no hope that clashing swords with him would bring her some great epiphany.
She simply wanted to stand before him, just the two of them, and exchange blows.
After recovering her internal power and waiting an entire day, he never came to the promised location.
—I am already betrothed to Lord Bu.
When she finally sought him out, she found a beautiful woman weaving a sinister scheme against two others.
He's engaged?
At that moment, something inside her chest seemed to plummet.
For reasons she couldn't explain, anguish and frustration surged within her.
—That's a lie.
But she soon realized.
Not a flicker of emotion stirred in his gaze.
Had he truly been betrothed, even if he showed no affection, he would have at least acknowledged it in front of others.
—What token did you exchange for the engagement?
In the end, A-yeon couldn't stand by and intervened in the fight.
Somehow, that coquettish beauty irritated her.
—Even if the Lord were to kneel and propose, you'd refuse?
At the words that she had never regarded him romantically, one of the women surrounding him asked that question.
For a moment, she imagined him kneeling with a solemn expression.
Her breath grew ragged, her head dizzy.
But such thoughts were delusions a disciple of the Mystic Path should never entertain.
—Of course.
In the end, she lied and fled the Demon Hall as if escaping.
Yet from that day on, only his phantom haunted her thoughts.
Was I never meant to set foot in the Mystic Path?
She felt stifled and tormented.
And so, she sublimated that torment into her swordplay.
Instead of sleeping, she practiced qi circulation. When she opened her eyes, she devoted herself solely to sword techniques. As a result, her internal power swelled like a snowball, and her swordsmanship advanced.
Though her martial prowess grew stronger, her heart felt emptier than ever.
And when she closed her eyes, that man still appeared before her.
—The Black-White Witch has appeared!
It was the perfect excuse.
Her sect always sent disciples down when a crisis befell the martial world.
This was her chance to roam the Rivers and Lakes, eliminate evildoers, and sort out her thoughts.
And forget him.
Forever.
A-yeon swore it to herself.
Chirp, chirp, chirp.
With the sound of birds singing outside the window, A-yeon opened her eyes.
How strange.
The last thing she remembered was fighting the Black-White Witch—so why was she lying in her quarters at the Sword Pavilion?
"Was everything that happened until now just a dream?"
With dazed eyes staring blankly into space, she belatedly felt sensation returning throughout her body.
And then—a warmth at the back of her neck, right at the Great Vertebra Acupoint.
When she turned her head, her eyes met those of a man whose hand was pressed against her acupoint.
His hair was tied in a topknot, his eyes slightly narrow and long. An ordinary face one might see anywhere.
"You've awakened."
As their gazes locked, the man's warm hand withdrew from her Great Vertebra Acupoint.
And for some reason, A-yeon felt an inexplicable emptiness.
"You are—"
"Rest now. You must have been exhausted all this time."
The man's voice carried an undeniable authority.
And faint golden light shimmered around his entire body. At the same time, A-yeon felt warmth spreading through her again.
'Body-Striking Transmission Art?'
She realized the man was using Body-Striking Transmission Art to inject powerful True Qi into her, rapidly restoring her body.
"You..."
In her hazy consciousness, A-yeon opened her mouth.
Then, within those slender, elongated eyes, she caught a glimpse of crimson pupils.
Were those not the same eyes she had always envisioned in her dreams?
"Why are you here?"
No answer came.
But those eyes were filled with nothing but concern and care for her.
It was clear—he had been the one healing her all this time.
'Why you...?'
A-yeon tried to speak again, but no voice escaped.
The overwhelming rush of warm True Qi made her body languid, as if floating on clouds.
As her eyelids grew heavy, the boundless warmth spread through her limbs.
And like a needle pressed into the Soul Acupoint, A-yeon fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.
When A-yeon opened her eyes again, two double-hours had passed.
Sitting up, she found her body brimming with vitality, her meridians overflowing with True Qi—completely unlike before.
"You're awake."
As if waiting, a white shadow slowly approached. A beautiful face, with strands of hair silvered at the temples.
The Head of Still Heart Courtyard—her master, Ok Yu-ha.
"Master."
As A-yeon tried to rise, her master extended a hand to stop her.
"Stay lying down. Your Internal Power has only just recovered. You must have no strength left at all."
"I'm fine."
A-yeon straightened and scanned her surroundings.
But the strange man she had seen earlier was gone.
"Good. How is your body?"
After circulating her True Qi once, A-yeon shook her head.
"There's no issue at all. But... what exactly happened?"
"You don't remember?"
"After I used my sword techniques against the Black-White Witch... I remember nothing."
"I see."
Ok Yu-ha exhaled a sigh before speaking.
"You lost consciousness due to the Black-White Witch's Mind-Ensnaring Art. And you awoke only after two full days here."
"How did I get here?"
"I sent a disciple to follow you in secret."
"I see."
A-yeon's expression darkened as she listened to the explanation.
All this time, she had trained diligently, confident she would never lose to anyone—yet in the end, she had been overpowered by the Black-White Witch.
"But... who was he?"
"Who?"
"When I first woke up, there was a man who infused True Qi into me."
"It was Daoist Master Chung-hyeon."
Ok Yu-ha forced a smile as she spoke.
"Daoist Master Chung-hyeon, who was staying at our pavilion, expended a great deal of his True Energy to restore your body."
"But... he was a young man."
"A young man? There was no such person. You must have seen wrong in your unconscious state."
"...I see."
A-yeon rubbed her forehead and shook her head.
'Did I hallucinate again?'
The signs of an Inner Demon had been there for a long time.
She had even entertained delusions—things a disciple of the Mystic Path should never think of.
But something was strange.
The sensation of that hand on her back still lingered, as if it had really been there.
Had it truly been an illusion?
As she shook her head, she suddenly widened her eyes.
A-yeon's gaze fixed on the side of her bed.
A blanket lay there, bearing the imprint of someone who had sat on it.
"Daoist Master Chung-hyeon must have sat here while infusing True Qi into me."
When A-yeon pointed at the blanket, Ok Yu-ha nodded.
"That's right."
'That was a lie.'
Only then did A-yeon realize—she hadn't imagined it.
Daoist Master Chung-hyeon was so emaciated he weighed only about 130 pounds.
But the imprint left on the blanket was from someone weighing over 170 pounds.
'He was here.'
A-yeon's chest swelled.
And a burning emotion filled her mind, so intense it made her eyes grow hot.
Bu Eun-seol.
The man she could never forget, even in dreams—had been the one to heal her, to watch over her.