Tathagata Hall at Dawn
Dawn light filtered through the windows atop the Tathagata Hall. It was around then that he finally permitted his exhausted brothers to sit. Yi Jingang sat in the lotus position on his own, though his entire body trembled uncontrollably. Yi Jinpyeong grabbed the arm of Yi Jinun, who was on the verge of collapsing flat, and forced him upright. Yi Jinun shot Yi Jinpyeong a resentful glare. But he no longer had the strength to retort or resist.
"You've done well."
A brief word of encouragement. Yet it was enough to melt Yi Jinun's expression into a dopey grin. He forgot all about the harsh treatment from moments ago, thinking, Our little brother really is the best.
Yi Jinpyeong glanced around. This space was always so refreshing and serene, but now it reeked of his brothers' sweat and humidity. He waved his hand, stirring up a breeze. It began circulating through the hall, gathering the stale, sweat-laden air into a whirlwind before it naturally flowed out the windows. Soon, the hall filled with the fresh scent of bamboo. Yi Jinun's jaw dropped. Yi Jingang was no different.
"Th-this is..."
Pungsin Jigyeol. One of the martial arts you brothers must master going forward."
"I've heard our ancestor moved as freely as the wind. That technique you showed the Dongbeonhoe warriors last time must be part of it, right?"
"You're talking about Pung Chwi Palbo. That's a footwork for moving the body or dodging enemy attacks. This is a method for manipulating the essence of wind itself, so the applications differ slightly. It won't help much in combat, but it's endlessly useful in daily life."
For instance, purifying stuffy air, opening doors without touching them, or shaping tobacco smoke into cool patterns.
"First, let's get rid of those sweaty clothes."
"Take off our clothes?"
"To circulate your qi and adjust your breathing."
Why undress for qi circulation? Yi Jingang and Yi Jinun blinked in confusion before reluctantly stripping off their garments. There had to be a reason if Yi Jinpyeong said so.
"Hold on. Why the pants too? Come on, you're already down to your underwear—Brother Jinun. Upper body is enough."
Yi Jinpyeong squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, Yi Jingang and Yi Jinun were exchanging sheepish looks at each other's bodies and chuckling. Fortunately, they'd put their pants back on. Gaunt and skeletal frames. Ribs protruded starkly, utterly wretched. It was a miracle they could even wield a sword in that state.
Yi Jinun twisted to inspect himself, then flexed his arm to show off a bicep.
"Brother, look at this. I've got muscles now too."
"Oh, really? Me too."
They compared their quail-egg-sized muscles. Yi Jinpyeong was speechless watching them. It had only been a week since proper training began. Yet they already felt the changes. The BoWon Pills he'd secretly fed them nightly helped, but their bodies' absorption rates and potential were clearly exceptional.
These guys starved for so long... No wonder. With constitutions this good, they survived on those fake Wall Valley Pills all this time.
He resolved once more. The moment he met that mysterious monk who'd introduced the fake pills, he'd smash him to pieces. No mercy, no forgiveness.
Yi Jinpyeong turned his brothers around to face away. He spoke in a calm voice.
"Whether it's the Pungsin Jigyeol I showed earlier or Pung Chwi Palbo, all stem from the foundational Gwi Hwa Yeon Cheon Gong—our family's core art, as you both know. You've already memorized the incantations."
The brothers nodded.
"It's fortunate the core incantations weren't lost, but mere memorization is useless. You must visualize how each phrase connects to the flow of inner energy in your body. Turn words on a page into the actual currents in your meridians."
Easier said than done. For Yi Gyeol himself, a natural genius, it was as easy as breathing. But for his descendants, handed down without proper guidance... In his past life, Yi Gyeol had thought passing on the incantations was enough. Understandable. Geniuses can't fully grasp the minds of ordinary folk, just as ordinary folk can't comprehend geniuses.
Besides, even sharp minds couldn't necessarily master Gwi Hwa Yeon Cheon Gong. This heart method, tied closely to nature's energies, could only be cultivated by those of the Yi bloodline with the direct lineage. Most family arts, passed down or created by Yi Gyeol, derived from it, forcing descendants down a grueling path.
Fortunately, the brothers' energies felt pure and clear. Connected to the Gwi Hwa Yeon Cheon lineage without doubt. Guide them right, and they'd advance.
Go-jung-ze yak-gong... Abandon the center, become like empty space...
The brothers closed their eyes and began reciting the incantations. Yi Jinpyeong placed his hands on their bony backs. Energy transmitted skin-to-skin. If his inner strength were greater, clothes wouldn't matter, but it wasn't yet. No shame between brothers—efficiency first.
Yi Jinpyeong steadily infused his qi, drawing out their feeble streams and detailing the paths and flows to focus on while reciting. At first floundering, the brothers gradually escaped confusion, following his lead to circulate their qi. Things they'd misunderstood—thought they knew but never truly grasped—crystallized under his touch. Vague sensations sharpened, blocked meridians opened, paths cleared. Their breathing evened into calm rhythm, serene peace spreading across their faces.
It was some time later that Yi Jinpyeong lifted his hands.
At least the foundations are there. Lucky.
Unlike Yi Jinpyeong, whose meridians had been completely clogged, Yi Jingang and Yi Jinun had basic frameworks for qi. Yi Jinpyeong had no chance, lost to madness young. But before their father died, he'd laid groundwork via bloodline probing. Just the frame, but that was something. Far smoother than Yi Jinpyeong's risky meridian-opening with spirit pills.
He gazed at his brothers, deep in trance. Bare, skeletal bodies in lotus pose, gentle expressions—they resembled something. Pondering, he realized: like the Tathagata in temple tales.
He snorted.
Tathagata my ass. Reality's the White Bone Heroes.
Yi Jinpyeong sat in lotus behind them. Now, time for himself. The sprout he'd recently nurtured had sprouted a stem, asserting its presence. He inhaled nature's qi with each breath, refining and stacking it layer by layer in his dantian. It would fertilize his soil, growing the tender stem into a mighty tree.
Only when full morning arrived did Yi Jinpyeong open his eyes. A satisfied smile played on his lips. Qi accumulation was faster than expected. At this rate, he'd soon reach the second stage of Gwi Hwa Yeon Cheon Gong: Cheonryu.
Time for another spirit pill.
He'd fully absorbed the Jinwon Sogi Pill. Next leap needed a boost. His brothers' bodies were firming up fast too—best if they got a chance soon.
Springing up, he left the hall. Only his trance-lost brothers remained, Tathagata-like.
The man Gang Ryong was quite pleased with the spectacle before him. Countless masters, black and white paths, righteous and evil factions be damned, prostrated in grand bows before him. Revering his absolute, untouchable supremacy...
Ahem. He cleared his throat, stroking his beard. In a merciful tone, he spoke.
"Rise."
His voice boomed like thunder without effort. Odd. It didn't sound like his own. As he puzzled, another voice came.
"I won't say it twice."
Familiar. A chill ran through him. This voice, this tone...
Yi Jinpyeong sprang up—instinctive. He steadied his wobbling body. His lord, the third young master Yi Jinpyeong, had approached. Still ramrod straight in last night's drinking pose.
"You've eaten and caroused enough. Time for work."
"Y-yes, sir!"
Gang Ryong bellowed belatedly realizing: he was the one bowing, Yi Jinpyeong who'd ordered him up. Amid his pounding headache, he scanned around. The bonfire had long died. Subordinates sprawled unconscious. Last night's revelry left chaos everywhere—except Yi Jinpyeong, fresh as new. After drinking like fish together, only he looked invigorated.
Gang Ryong roused the others, but the third young master ordered only bucktoothed chief steward Gwak Yeonyong woken. Patiently, he waited as the overindulged Gwak heaved up his guts.
"Chief Steward Gwak. How goes the task?"
Gwak hadn't joined warrior training. He had his own vital duty: collecting debts from those who'd borrowed from Yi Gajang these past years. Using Second Young Master Yi Jinun's list, he'd dispatched warriors to fill the coffers.
Still bleary, Gwak swiftly pulled a paper from his bosom.
"Smooth sailing overall. We've collected on about a third of Second Young Master's list. As instructed, we skipped the truly destitute."
"A third already. Good pace."
"Like that village back then. Rough-looking warriors like us waving swords and ledgers—they cough up without a fight."
"Hmph. If only they'd paid up easy from the start. How lightly they viewed our brothers all this time?"
The debtors hadn't yielded easily. The (former) Hwang Sabang warriors excelled at collections—professional repo men level.
Yi Jinpyeong tallied the recovered assets and smacked his lips.
"Hmph. Small fry. Not enough yet by a long shot..."
His eyes paused on one entry.
"Why 'on hold' for this one?"
"Pung Gaekru owner, from before. Borrowed ten seok of rice—not small—but when we went, there was a tricky issue..."
"Tricky how?"
Gwak hesitated, explaining Pung Gaekru. Why he couldn't collect. What troubled him. Yi Jinpyeong grinned. Reading it, Gang Ryong stepped forward.
"Good. Let's go!"
Yi Jinpyeong hadn't spoken. Gwak panicked; Yi Jinpyeong chuckled.
"Supervisor Gang. Where to?"
"Pung Gaekru. To turn it upside down, right?"
Yi Jinpyeong stood, laughter fading.
"Nice enthusiasm. Lead the way."
"Yes, sir!"
The pair vanished out the gate. Gwak scurried after.
"Y-young master! Now? This early? Just us three?"
