The Divine Art: Sunflower Manual (4)

I left the three women behind and slipped out of Yuwol Pavilion.

My excuse was a guest waiting at the rear garden annex. We'd already gotten our stories straight, and it was a client I knew well — as long as I came back quickly, there wouldn't be any trouble. The three women, still reeling from everything I'd said and done today, had readily agreed when I told them we'd talk properly once the evening's business was finished.

I walked for about as long as it takes to drink a cup of tea after leaving the rear garden. Heading toward Guan Yu Temple at a brisk clip, I deliberately turned into a dank, shadowed alley.

"These bastards were never going to walk all the way to Guan Yu Temple like good little boys."

The truth was, I couldn't be bothered going all the way there. Guan Yu Temple had only been a pretext — a way of showing them I meant to settle this somewhere quiet, and of drawing them out of the Madam's room.

I'd already ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠decided to finish things somewhere convenient. Once I stepped into the alley, I sharpened my senses.

No people. Dark. Perfect for a little blade-work.

Which meant it was about time for the signal.

"Hey, Jang Jinmyeong."

Right on cue — not a hair off my prediction. The voice belonged to Zhong Tianxiang.

"You came?"

Standing in the middle of the deserted alley, I turned slowly to look them over and answered in a word.

"Yeah, we came. No need to go far — let's do it here. Tie, you really think that bastard was going to walk all the way to Guan Yu Temple?"

"That's why I said just be patient and follow him a bit. I had a bet going with Ping."

Zhao Tie smacked his lips as he answered.

"Why would we go there? Who knows what kind of trick he's cooked up? A guy who always just ran away suddenly wants to meet separately — that means he's got something waiting at Guan Yu Temple. Right?"

"True enough. I thought something was off. Maybe he gathered some friends? Whined to his courtesan mommy and hired himself a Third-Rate assassin? Too bad for him. We weren't planning to go that far. Heh heh heh."

The three morons were shitting words out of their mouths.

The bright moonlight lit the pitch-black night, so visibility was no problem, and the night air was pleasantly cool. The hollow late-autumn wind would mask most noise. Not a bad stage at all for the Sunflower Manual's debut.

"Nice moonlight, nice breeze. Perfect night for the three of you to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠skip off to the Yellow Springs together, don't you think?"

I spoke while checking the dantian I'd only just established.

But how was I planning to take on three Second-Rate martial artists with barely a handful of internal energy?

Simple. I'd start accumulating it right now.

"The hell is he talking about? This guy's actually insane. Hey, Jang Jinmyeong. I'm genuinely curious — where does this confidence even come from? What's waiting at Guan Yu Temple that made you want to meet separately?"

Watching the Zhong clan bastard wonder why I'd suddenly stopped running from them, I found myself thinking of old times.

"It was a night like this, too."

"What?"

"I said it was a night like this. You three already died by my hand once. About twenty-seven, twenty-eight years ago?"

Two years after I'd become a eunuch, the Eastern Depot was founded, and I was selected as one of its founding agents — a nobody, but there all the same. I entered the Eastern Depot, was taught the Sunflower Manual, and two years after that I found these three. Found them and passed sentence.

I'd sentenced them for the same crimes they'd committed just now at Yuwol Pavilion — the humiliation, the forcing me to my knees, making me crawl between their legs, making me lick their shoes. And for all the rest of it. For the crimes that had driven me to choose becoming a eunuch in the first place.

"Ah, what the hell kind of ghost-story nonsense is this? This bastard dreaming just because it's nighttime?"

"Back then, even after I got my revenge, I couldn't feel happy about it. Now I'm looking forward to it. I really am. Zhao Tie, Jin Ping. You two first, right? You call yourselves his friends, but you're just his dogs."

Recalling those years after the first revenge — a eunuch stripped of his manhood and his family, left with nothing but the hollow ache of loss — I provoked Zhao Tie and Jin Ping. The weaker two first, then the slightly less weak one. That was the order that suited me.

"You crazy son of a bitch, you're begging to die. Don't come crying when we start hitting you. I already told you — tonight you're leaving here a cripple in all four limbs at minimum. Ping, watch yourself. He might've grabbed a kitchen knife from the kitchens."

"A fist artist, scared of a knife? You watch yourself, Tie. All right — shall we give our future kept man a good working-over for old times' sake?"

Footsteps. They were coming.

They closed in with their spacing widened, herding me the way a net herds fish. Five paces left. Four. Three. Two.

Close enough that a leap and an outstretched arm would close the gap — and that was when I opened my mouth, almost in a whisper.

"Wait. Let me tell you something."

"What?"

"Huh?"

The two of them, who had never regarded me as worth the dirt under their fingernails, reflexively hesitated and craned their necks forward.

That was the moment. I dropped my stance and drove both arms toward their bellies.

Hhk—!

Mmph—!

The gasps they swallowed were so small they vanished into the lonely sound of the wind. Both my palms clamped onto the centers of their stomachs, and I began drawing the true qi straight out of their dantians.

It was one of the reasons the authentic Sunflower Manual could display more than ten times the power of its counterfeit when it came to accumulating internal energy.

Hiiiik—

Ghhhk—

Their bodies shuddered, and a leaking-wind sound slipped from their mouths, but it was still too faint for the Zhong brat to hear. To his eyes, Zhao Tie and Jin Ping would look like they were staring down at me on my knees. He'd assume I was groveling, relax, and stroll right in.

Keeping his distance because he thought I might have a trump card — that was his fatal mistake.

Feel that? I told you. Tonight's a perfect night for the three of you to die. Don't feel too left out. I'll send your patron along right after.

I whispered it softly, watching the Zhong bastard amble toward me between Zhao Tie and Jin Ping. And then he was there.

"See? What'd I tell you — begging for his life, just once? Heh heh heh! You stupid bastard. After everything you've been through, you still don't know us? Right, my friends?"

Completely at ease, he reached to clap Zhao Tie and Jin Ping on the shoulders, meaning to throw his arms around them.

"And here I thought he actually had some—!"

Thud.

Having surrendered the last speck of their true qi, Zhao Tie and Jin Ping collapsed like rotting sheaves of straw. Their falling was one thing — but the instant Zhong Tianxiang made contact with them, his instincts screamed that something was wrong.

"Hhk! You son of a—!"

His eyes flew wide, on the verge of understanding — and in that exact sliver of a moment I surged to my feet and reached for him.

Thud! Tak!

Realizing too late, he unfurled his seizing arts to pin me down, but he was already too slow. My left hand moved to counter his Qinna; my right closed around his throat. And once more, I worked the Harmony Qi Absorption.

"Ghk! Hhrrrk—!"

This time I was drawing through the meridian points in his neck rather than his dantian, which meant the Zhong bastard would be in screaming agony.

"Thanks to you lot, I lived thirty-two years in misery."

I began quietly, drinking down the true qi of Zhong Tianxiang, whose body had locked up like a stone statue. I figured we could at least exchange a few words of farewell. This would be the real last time I ever saw him.

"Ghhhk—!"

"Ghhhk—!"

Thud.

Stripped of the last speck of his true qi, Zhong Tianxiang laid himself down on the alley's dirt. A body drained of every drop of acquired internal energy and innate true qi was no different from an object that had lost its life.

The second-life revenge ended there.

"Not bad. The fact that I'm not a eunuch after the revenge is over. That's really not bad at all."

I glanced over the three of them sprawled on the ground, then started walking back toward Yuwol Pavilion.

I deliberately left the scene as it was. Twenty-nine years in the Eastern Depot had taught me that most people who fussed over cleaning up a scene ended up getting their tails stepped on. Leave it displayed like an exhibit, and the investigators would just start grabbing at the wrong straws all on their own.

A short while later, on the road back to Yuwol Pavilion.

"Pretty perfect for a first try. So that's why they sing hymns about divine arts."

The efficacy of the Harmony Qi Absorption had been flawless. Stable. Clean.

Absorbing internal energy didn't mean all of it became mine. Because I filtered out the turbid qi and took in only the pure, the total volume shrank to less than half. On top of that, Zhao Tie and Jin Ping's energy had been spent opening the meridians from my palms to my dantian, so the power I'd actually stored was the true qi taken from Zhong Tianxiang.

"Well. Five years of this will do the work of ten or more anyway."

The potency of pure true qi far outstripped the same quantity accumulated by an ordinary martial artist. With no impurities, it could flow through the meridians without the slightest obstruction, and my meridians themselves were clean — I could bring out more than twice the power. Circulation was faster on this side, too; the same amount of true qi hit harder.

The absolute quantity was still small, though, which meant fewer times I could actually unleash it.

"I should start the Lesser Heavenly Circulation tonight."

Circulating true qi along the Conception and Governing Meridians that ran through the body's core — that was what made you a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠genuine Second-Rate martial artist. The conditions for First-Rate were completing the Lesser Heavenly Circulation and thirty years of internal energy.

Looked at that way, I still had a long road ahead. I'd have to train diligently, but it wouldn't take all that long. I had the Sunflower Manual, and more than that — I'd already walked this road once.

I finished checking my internal energy just as I arrived at Yuwol Pavilion, and I melted back into the rear garden as if I'd been there the whole time. Going out and coming back had taken less than a quarter of an hour. None of the household would have noticed a thing.

A short while later.

I lingered in the rear garden just long enough, then stepped into the Madam's room. The three women were still sitting exactly where I'd left them.

Have they been talking about me this whole time?

"You're all still here."

I offered my greetings and sat down beside Sister Shanghua. A lovely scent came off her. She was fussing with a wrist that had gone red.

"Did you meet your guest all right?"

"Yes, Madam. We see each other often enough. Though it looks like I'll need to duck back to the kitchens the moment I sat down."

"Hm? You, to the kitchens? Whatever for?"

"Sister's wrist seems to be hurting."

I pointed at Shanghua as I answered. She started and waved her hands.

"No, I'm fine—!"

"Don't 'no' me. Sister, let me see."

I took the hand of the woman sitting beside me. Thirty-two years of living apart had taught me how precious this family was. I'd learned it, so I intended to live it.

A short while later.

Jinmyeong, who had asked them to wait a moment, came back with both hands full.

Why ice...?

Shanghua felt a chill radiating from the basket in one of Jinmyeong's hands and found herself puzzled. While she was still wondering, he strode over and knelt.

"Sister, give me your hand."

"I really am fi—!"

"Give it here. We're busy. Madam and Nurse and I are going to have a serious talk."

The instant she tried to insist she was fine, Jinmyeong ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠reached out and took her wrist. She flinched, but she let him have it without a fight, watching quietly as he turned her wrist this way and that.

I heard him clearly earlier. He told that disgusting Zhong Tianxiang that if he understood, he was to keep his hands off our sister...!

When Jinmyeong suddenly pressed ice to her wrist, Shanghua shrank back before she could stop herself.

"Ah! Cold—!"

Because she had sealed her true qi, her body took the ice's biting cold in full, and the flush that had been rising in her face settled back to normal. Receiving treatment with her wrist in Jinmyeong's hands, under the eyes of her Grandmaster and her Martial Aunt, made her feel strangely bashful.

And then—

"This is what happens when you hide your martial arts. Nurse Zheng Hui learned martial arts. So did the aunts, so did the sisters. The Madam probably did too. But true qi isn't a cure-all, you know."

The words that came from Jinmyeong's mouth as he soothed her wrist were staggering. Shanghua whipped around toward her Grandmaster and Martial Aunt on pure reflex.

How does he know that? Grandmaster? Master?

Yeongyeon, meeting her eyes, smiled faintly — as if none of this surprised her in the least. Zheng Hui let out a small sigh and closed her eyes.