The Qi Arts Master - Chapter 33
Near Red Cliff, in a small village inn close to Tongshan, people were gathering as the sun set behind them, wrapping up their day. They chatted about some incident that had happened that day. What started with one or two people quickly spread through the entire inn, turning the place rowdy in an instant.
"Hey, did you hear? They say a mountain collapsed!"
"I heard about it too."
"What? You too? Me as well! And they say there was a flood from the mountain?"
"That's right. The flood hit the martial artists gathered at Red Cliff pretty hard, from what I hear."
"Pah, come on, people. A mountain collapsing, and now a flood from the mountain? Are you all drunk already?"
"What? You haven't heard? The villages around Red Cliff are in an uproar over this! It's real!"
The villagers buzzed with excitement over this fresh commotion in their quiet town. In the corner of the inn, three men listened quietly.
"Brothers, isn't that story about us?"
"Who knows."
"A cave collapsing might be one thing, but the rumors are way overblown."
Song Sogeol, Chanho, and Tian Ailang whispered among themselves as they listened to the endless chatter. It felt suspiciously related to them. The mountain crumbling and the lake overflowing could pass, but tales of injured martial artists were a delicate matter.
"No, wait—they say the Jegal family was dismantling the Bi-dong formation when they got caught in the backlash, so their injuries were especially bad."
"Yeah, yeah. That's why the Jegals are leading the hunt for whoever's behind it."
The sworn brothers fell silent upon hearing this. No need to stir up trouble, and if they stayed quiet, it'd probably be written off as a natural disaster.
Song Sogeol, who'd been eavesdropping intently on the inn's gossip, gaped at the mandu massacre unfolding before his eyes.
"Ailang bro, are the dumplings that good?"
Song Sogeol stared at Tian Ailang with a weary look. Eight empty dumpling trays were already stacked beside him.
Tian Ailang nodded and ordered another round. Chanho shook his head at the sight.
"Sure, martial artists like us eat a lot 'cause we're healthy, but devouring the same food like a maniac? Even I'm impressed."
"Right?"
Song Sogeol shook his head too and sipped his tea. Slurp. With his belly full and warm tea sliding down, his mouth and body felt refreshingly clean.
"Anyway, you're handling the goods yourself?"
Chanho took a sip of tea and asked Song Sogeol quietly.
Song Sogeol covered his mouth with his cup as he whispered back.
"Yeah. No one in a small village like this can handle stuff like that, and with all this commotion drawing eyes, it'd be a hassle."
"So, what's the plan?"
Song Sogeol grinned smugly.
"Why do you think we're in Hubei, bro?"
"Don't play coy."
At Chanho's dry response, Song Sogeol smirked triumphantly.
"It's north of Dongting Lake, so Hubei, right? Now that we're here, we have to check out Dongting Lake! It's where all the wealth gathers—perfect for quietly offloading the goods. Plus, we can sightsee at Dongting Lake and Yueyang Tower while we're at it."
"Chanho, isn't our little brother amazing? Knows everything."
Tian Ailang praised him mid-chew, his mouth stuffed with dumplings. Song Sogeol beamed.
"Not bad."
Chanho nodded, clearly impressed.
* * *
Yueyang Tower at Dongting Lake. One of the Three Great Pavilions of Jiangnan, frequented by countless famous figures. Built in the Three Kingdoms era by Wu's Lu Su for military purposes—to oversee naval training—it had become a landmark rich in literary fame.
Tian Ailang and his group had snagged seats on the precious third floor. Through the windows, they admired the famed Dongting Lake. A massive tourist spot, Yueyang Tower was always packed, especially spots with the best lake views steeped in history.
Like any scenic site, prime seats were coveted, and here the window tables overlooking Dongting Lake were the absolute best. Reservations were mandatory, and pricey. The third-floor window seats weren't just for the deep-pocketed; connections to officials were key.
Unlike other taverns, Yueyang Tower was government-run as a revenue venture, entrusted to private management. Those with ties to high officials in the local bureaucracy could secure spots easily.
And so Tian Ailang, Chanho, and Song Sogeol sat happily at such a table, savoring the lake breeze as they raised their cups.
"What can't our little brother do?! Haha!"
"Thanks to you, we're at the best spot in this famous place."
Even gruff Chanho joined Tian Ailang in praising Song Sogeol for scoring the seats. Song Sogeol basked in it.
"You bet. Took a ton of work! My buddy, a high official from Hebei Tianjin, has family ties to the Yueyang magistrate. Of course, some cash greased the wheels too. But hey, we made a killing, right? Who knows when we'd get back here?"
Song Sogeol topped off their cups with Du Fu liquor, the house specialty named after the poet Du Fu, who drank it while gazing at Dongting Lake from Yueyang Tower.
"Brothers~ Ever since meeting you, my life's been a blast~"
Song Sogeol spread his arms wide, embracing the world. Tian Ailang and Chanho nodded with satisfied smiles.
"Hahaha! Sogeol, same here. I hope the world stays this happy, and we stay this happy forever."
"Ahem. Hear, hear."
Song Sogeol shot to his feet, raised his cup high, and downed it in one go.
"Kaaah~ Feels great~."
Feeling inspired, Song Sogeol recited Du Fu's poem with a melodic rhythm.
I'd long heard tales of Dongting Lake, but only today ascend Yueyang Tower.
Wu and Chu part to the southeast, as heaven and earth float day and night upon the waters.
No letters from dear friends come, and growing old, I have but a lonely boat.
The warhorses linger in the north; leaning on the railing, tears alone fall.
His voice rang clear through the pavilion like a song, laced subtly with inner energy like a sound art, drawing listeners in. Cool and pure like a lake breeze, yet harmonizing with the poem's heavy weight, it tickled the heart mysteriously.
As Song Sogeol finished, cheers erupted from the third floor and even the second.
"Beautiful!"
"Ahh, perfect!"
"The loveliest poem I've ever heard!"
Song Sogeol bowed with clasped hands and sat, beaming. Chanho, caught up in the vibe, stood too.
"Can't let my little brother outshine me."
He downed his cup boldly and cleared his throat. Tian Ailang, Song Sogeol, and the third-floor crowd watched expectantly.
"Ahem. Ascending Yueyang Tower."
The opening drew gasps.
"Du Fu, now Li Bai? What a treat tonight!"
Patrons sipped their drinks, savoring Chanho's bold rhythm.
From Yueyang Tower, all Yueyang spreads below.
The town recedes far, Dongting Lake unfurls wide.
Geese bear away my cares as they fly; fine mountains, rising moon.
Lodging chosen amid clouds, wine cups passed 'neath the heavens.
Drunk, cool winds whirl 'round, sleeves fluttering on dancing folk.
Unlike Song Sogeol's clarity, Chanho's hearty, unrestrained voice exuded manliness, stirring heroic spirits in all who heard.
"Awesome!"
Cheers filled the pavilion again. Curious second-floor guests had climbed up at the start and joined the applause.
"Hahaha! Everyone, drink up!"
Chanho raised his cup high amid roaring cheers.
"Chanho's the best!"
Tian Ailang clapped excitedly; Song Sogeol lifted his cup in wide-eyed awe.
"Whoa! I thought bro's sword was top-notch, but his singing's elite too!"
It was pure joy. Tian Ailang tilted his cup, brimming with happiness. Strangers crowded around the brothers' table, turning the pavilion into a feast.
A few jealous types tried picking fights with the spotlight-stealing duo, but the crowd enjoying the brothers' company shut them down quick.
The early-evening drinking stretched late into the night until many patrons passed out. Only then did the brothers head to their rooms.
Perhaps thanks to the great vibe they brought or Song Sogeol's pull, the manager escorted them to private suites. Tian Ailang and the brothers rested comfortably in separate rooms.
Tian Ailang entered his, buzzing pleasantly from the booze.
"Ah! That was great!"
In one hand, wrapped in cloth, was a sword. The worn Ssanggo Sword Chanho had grabbed from Bi-dong—forgotten in his drunken haze. Tian Ailang had brought it along.
Without much thought, he unwrapped it and examined the blade by moonlight. It looked shabby now, but as a key to the Bi-dong formation, it felt mysteriously special.
Crackle.
Suddenly, flakes fell from the sword.
"Huh?"
Hummm.
The sword vibrated, rust crumbling away in showers.
Crackle-crackle.
Tian Ailang stared blankly in shock. The dingy blade gleamed clear and pristine, shimmering ethereally in the moonlight.
"Wha—what? Whaaa...?!"
Wondering if it was the alcohol playing tricks, he peered closer. Then his inner energy surged.
His dantian, long dormant as if empty, roiled violently.
"Urk!"
The unguarded shock slammed through his body. The buzz vanished in a flash.
Tian Ailang quickly assessed. Feeling his dantian stir after so long, he sat in lotus position urgently. With the Ssanggo Sword stuck fast to his hand atop his knees, he closed his eyes.