The Value of a Single Word - 2
All things in this world carry a double meaning. It was only natural — take the word "spring" in the letter Sa Yun had sent. To her, spring meant simply the season itself, but to others, spring meant "something new."
And was spring an unqualified blessing for the common folk? It could be, sure. But there were surely those who shuddered at the very word — thinking of the lean stretch when the autumn grain, rationed carefully all winter, had run low and the barley had yet to ripen, and the food situation turned dire.
Just as all things held double meanings, the plain and ordinary on the surface could turn out to hold enormous worth. Enlightenment was exactly that — perceiving the true value hidden within the small things of daily life. In the world of Cheonsang Myeongwol, it was one of the paths to strength, and a path every character walked at least once.
If there was one regret, it was that during Sa Yun's first enlightenment event, she had been forced to cross that threshold entirely alone, without help from anyone. The other characters had it differently — beside them stood their masters and their fellow disciples, the brothers and sisters of their schools. Racking one's brains alone slides all too easily into obsession, and obsession invites the inner demon. In the search for a needle on a sandy beach, whether anyone stands beside you or not weighs enormously on the searcher's heart.
Which was why I couldn't help thinking. Ugh, come on. How am I even supposed to help with this?
"Hmmmmmm..."
Enlightenment, for the most part, came in a flash of sudden insight. It was like grinding away at a stubborn piece of code before going, Huh? —oh, shit, and realizing the answer was something absurdly simple. Which meant that even if I sent Sa Yun the very koan that had triggered her enlightenment, there was no guarantee she would reach it. And me going there in person to teach her? Even more absurd.
"Hmmmmmm..."
Think. Think. Those who do not think are as good as dead — so let the thinking never stop.
The thinking carried on into the next day. I was still chewing on the problem as I cleared tables at the inn when a customer came hesitating toward me.
"Er — excuse me. Are you the master of this inn?"
"I am."
An old man in threadbare robes — a Taoist with the airy bearing of an immortal, memorable for his wispy grey beard and hair. Looking him over, I smothered a snort of laughter.
"Here to settle your bill?"
"No, it isn't that. I'm quite certain I had my purse with me right up until I entered this village..."
Embarrassment written plainly across his face, he fumbled for a moment, unsure what to do with himself, then heaved a deep sigh. "Somehow, search as I might, the purse is simply gone. So — here is my request. Might you extend me credit?"
"Are you serious, old man? You've been here all of one meal and you're asking for a tab?!" Beside me, Jeomsoi's face had crumpled, and she was growling like she was one breath away from going to fetch a club.
I looked at the Taoist. He was so mortified that watching him made me embarrassed on his behalf.
"What did this gentleman have?"
"One bowl of noodles and one plate of dumplings, which he shove— which he ate."
"Hmm."
The Taoist looked only more mortified. I studied him a moment, then nodded. "You don't strike me as a mere wandering beggar — more a man belonging to a Taoist order. In that case, I'd have you recite a blessing for us."
"Oh? Would that truly be acceptable?"
"Of course."
Shake down a man who has nothing and all you'll get is dust. Besides, a bowl of noodles and a plate of dumplings came to a few coins at most — better to take a blessing and send him on his way than scrap over pocket change.
At my words, the Taoist bowed his head again and again, plainly delighted. "Boundless Life, Boundless Life. I shall pray that the Primordial Celestial Worthy deigns to bless this meeting. Now, if you would wait but a moment."
He hurriedly untied his bundle: aged incense, a few paper talismans, and a couple of coverless books. Tucking away the talismans and the incense, he followed me outside, and there before the inn he burned the talisman, lit the incense, and began a prayer of earnest devotion.
"A prayer that isn't worth a single coin..."
"That's enough. Go see to your work."
"Yes, Master."
With a bow, Jeomsoi disappeared back inside. And how long did he pray? He went on with his devotions until the incense had burned itself out, and only then did his face ease into a broad grin.
"I have recited the blessing, yet it seems too little to repay the kindness of a meal. You called it credit — so this debt I shall repay, without fail."
"Say no more. You seem the wandering sort — just get on your road."
"Hmm... then, one thing more. There is something I would like to teach you, Master Innkeeper."
Huh? Hold on. Haven't I heard this line somewhere before?
There it was, sure as anything — the event where you treated someone to a meal at an inn and they taught you a martial art in return. Inferior to the characters' own signature techniques, granted, but some of them were genuinely useful.
"Practiced daily, it will aid your longevity and your health. Please, do not refuse."
Refuse here, and the old Taoist would simply smile and walk away, and the event would end. But accept?
I smiled at him. "If you insist to that degree, how could I possibly refuse? What is it?"
"Nothing so grand. The art this humble Taoist shall pass on to you, Master Innkeeper—"
He fixed me with eyes black and deep as still water, and spoke.
"It is called the Five Animal Frolics."
The Five Animal Frolics traced their origins to the health exercises devised by the physician Hua Tuo — which was why, in Cheonsang Myeongwol, they were classed as a kind of recovery art.
The Taoist had called them an art for longevity, but mastered in depth, they restored stamina, fortified health, and even let you share your own vigor with another to mend their injuries. Perhaps thanks to those properties, the Frolics enjoyed a fairly high reputation even within the game.
The most emblematic master to have learned a recovery art in Cheonsang Myeongwol was the Murim Alliance's Divine Physician — a healer of such genius he could pull back men standing at death's very door. Even he, a considerable master in his own right, went so far as to call the Frolics a recovery art every bit the equal of his own Medicine King's Grace Divine Art.
Which was, in truth, a lie. Did that even make sense? If the Frolics were really that remarkable, the Divine Physician would have learned them first.
Even so, they were by no means a poor art. Longevity, plus the power to raise another's natural healing and speed their recovery — those advantages could never be dismissed. The forums' guides went so far as to tell anyone running a Taoist-lineage character whose build lacked a recovery art to seize any chance to learn the Frolics. Trained to five stars, it was as good as carrying a spare life.
And reaching five stars took neither much time nor much effort, so nearly anyone could master it in full.
"Yes. Just like that."
Perhaps that ease had carried over into this world. Even though this was nothing more than an event — the Taoist explaining at my side, correcting my stances — I grasped the Five Animal Frolics within a handful of tries. An outsider to this world though I was, I was still being helped along by its systems, but there was nothing bad in that. If something's easy to learn, what's not to like? Better yet, unlike other martial arts, the Frolics demanded no enlightenment into their true essence.
While I was at it, why not gather every art the events had to offer? They might even prove useful to Sa Yun.
I turned it over for a moment, then shook my head. The arts obtainable through Cheonsang Myeongwol's events numbered far more than one or two, and what mattered most right now was stopping the Iron Blood Dan from annihilating the Hongseong Sect — getting that first button buttoned right. What the story would look like after that, even I couldn't say. Once it was done, I could move at my own pace; right now, I had neither the intention nor the leisure for a thirty-thousand-li pilgrimage in search of martial arts. So for now, I would simply master what was already in my hands. The Frolics might yet find their use.
"Now. Breathe out — and for the final movement..." As though dancing a slow, swaying dance, I lowered my left hand.
"'The highest good is like water,' so the old words go. Water precedes all things, and it can turn aside all that resists it — and through it, the Five Phases are joined."
The Taoist's fist, driven slowly forward, was deflected away by my left hand. Very slowly — but with absolute certainty. Unlike the Frolics' other forms — Metal, Wood, Fire, and Earth — Water was absurdly slow, and soft.
But anyone who had played Cheonsang Myeongwol knew that the Frolics' Water form was a technique of unified offense and defense — and how terrifying that soft, slow movement became once it reached its extreme. Of course, hardly anyone ever trained it that far. Weighed against the resources, time, and effort it took, learning something else was simply the better bargain. There was no shortage of superior arts.
"Perform the Frolics once each morning and once before bed, and you will never again catch so much as a cold."
"Now that's a fine promise."
"That said, your form being still unfamiliar, there are a few rough edges—"
Grinning, the Taoist drew a worn old volume from his robes and held it out. When I took it, I found it was the secret manual of the Five Animal Frolics.
"I hope you will temper yourself with it steadily. The Frolics, too, are an orthodox art of the Taoist lineage. Practice alone will build your qi slowly, but build it does — and in time, you may even form a dantian."
Unlike other arts, which piled up internal energy through breathing techniques, this one stirred the meridians and woke the dantian through movement alone. The Taoist laid it all out with a beaming, good-natured smile.
"And should anything refuse to come clear, you may inquire at the Hongseong Sect. They, too, are of the Taoist lineage, and I'm told some among them have learned the Frolics—"
...Huh? That's actually a great idea.
I looked at the Taoist, and he still wore his easy smile.
"For the price of a meal worth a few coins, I seem to have received quite a lot."
"Hahaha. To the hungry, a bowl of noodles is never merely a bowl of noodles. And more than that — did you not also preserve this humble Taoist's dignity? To one who safeguarded my pride and my honor, this much is only a trifle."
"And to one who safeguarded my health, even this much is only a trifle."
I drew out my purse and held it out. Inside sat twenty nyang of silver. The Taoist's eyes went wide, and he hurried to press it back into my hands — but I shook my head. Finish the event, press a few coins into his hand, and someday he'd come calling again with this and that to give. Better to hand it over now.
"Oh... dear me. This was never what I... Still, I will make grateful use of it."
A journey without money was a journey down a hard road. Twenty nyang, spent carefully, would keep a man from going hungry for a month.
"Then I shall see you again."
"Boundless Life. May your wishes come true, Master Innkeeper."
With a bow, he receded down the road. I made my way back to the inn, where Jeomsoi and the others — on break now that the lunch rush was over — met me with sour faces.
"Master, you know, that, um... thing. Beggars like that sometimes sell fake martial arts, so you really ought to be careful."
"Don't worry." As far as I could see, the Five Animal Frolics were the genuine article.
Back in my room, I read through the Frolics' manual. It differed hardly at all from the notes I'd compiled before coming to this world, or from the screenshots the forum fogeys had posted in their research threads. So, with no intention of poring over it, I simply flung the manual into a drawer.
"Back to work, then. Ah — but first..." I pulled a fresh sheet of paper toward me.
If learning a new martial art was giving her trouble, then I ought to offer what advice I could. How much good it would actually do Sa Yun, of course, remained an open question.
By the time I'd summoned a Courier Gate courier, sent the letter on its way, and wrapped up a few other tasks, the sun was going down. The setting sun — its dying light bleeding red, staining the sky scarlet as it sank. Maybe that was why Hong Ryeon came to mind. I wondered whether she was having any luck tracking down those elixirs.
"Master, where are you off to?"
"Just out for a bit of air. Nothing but work lately — my head's about to split."
Out of the inn for what was meant to be a simple stroll, I found my feet carrying me toward the market without any say from me. Why, walking along with my head in the clouds, had I come this way? Was there something here worth seeing?
I turned it over in my mind, then burst out laughing despite myself. I was hoping for a rerun of last time's event. Right — just like when I'd met Hoe-rang Gakjun. That chance encounter with Sa Yun, and now my body, remembering it, was hauling me here of its own accord.
I shook my head, grinning to myself. Oh, come on. Surely lightning wouldn't strike twice...
"Oh! Hello there!"
And there stood Sa Yun — beside a Hongseong Sect disciple by the name of Yu Hui. Holy sh— shoot. So it does work.