One Drop of Heaven's Grace

Most elixirs — the Empty Blue Stone Milk above all — are born in hidden sanctums blessed by Heaven's Grace.

Heaven's Grace.

Only where the harmony of the Five Elements lets natural energy of the utmost purity fold upon itself, layer upon layer, can the Empty Blue Stone Milk come into being.

But that is not all.

Only when a blessing from the heavens is added on top — a grace beyond the compass of mortal sense, in the most literal way — does the milk condense in such a place.

For all the ceaseless efforts of countless alchemists, mankind has never managed to produce even a crude imitation of it by its own power.

And then there is the matter of the hidden sanctum.

The Empty Blue Stone Milk can only form in a secluded place far beyond the easy reach of human hands. Legend holds that it condenses but one drop per century, which means such a site must lie undisturbed for hundreds of years at a stretch — and mankind, a species without the patience to leave so rare a treasure alone for even a fraction of that time, will never manage it.

Of the two, the more valuable piece of information, for my purposes, was not Heaven's Grace but the hidden sanctum.

To be precise: there is always a reason a place remains hidden from human reach.

Mount Cheonjung, in Henan.

This mountain, which styled itself the very center of the world, was stitched across with jagged crags and soaring peaks — a countenance that would have shamed none of the Five Great Mountains of the Central Plains.

And naturally, no path for human feet existed anywhere upon it.

In a place that forbade approach to any creature born without wings, I was learning the greatness of nature firsthand.

"Hwaaah—"

I shook out my hands, flushed blood-red with trapped blood, and lowered myself onto a narrow crevice partway up the cliff. My hands had done far more of the climbing than my feet; the rock was simply too sheer to scale any other way.

Whoooosh.

"Ugh."

One glance down was enough to see that the ground had all but vanished beneath me. A rush of vertigo seized me, and I snapped my eyes away at once.

It would have been pleasant to simply ride the lightfoot arts, but my nerve wasn't equal to loosing even the crude steps of the First-Class Realm on a cliff where a single misstep meant a fall of a thousand fathoms.

"Honestly, why on earth did that old geezer come here?"

The Empty Blue Stone Milk I was now hunting had been chanced upon by a venerable Shaolin monk practicing his lightfoot technique on this very mountain. Had the old man slipped and plunged to his death in the attempt, history ought to have recorded it as a peaceful passing of natural causes.

"That should be the one, right?"

This was already the fifth peak. If the milk wasn't there, I would have to climb yet another.

"Please — let it be there this time!"

Six hours later.

Only when the sun had slipped from its place at mid-sky behind the mountain's flank, and the moon had risen in its stead, did I arrive —

Thud.

"Khuuuaaah."

— at the summit of the seventh peak.

And at last —

"There it is!"

Yes. The Empty Blue Stone Milk.

One drop. That was the meaning of the measure called a jeok — the standard unit by which the Empty Blue Stone Milk was reckoned; even a single drop was said to be enough for the elixir to show its effect.

"There's more of it than I expected?"

The milk before my eyes looked to be about the size of a single joint of my thumb; even a rough count put it at twenty drops.

"So that old geezer really was a sham of a monk."

The smug face of the venerable monk who had crowed to all the world about picking up the Empty Blue Stone Milk floated up before me — an expression that seemed to say Buddhist enlightenment could go to the dogs. The amount reported to the Murim Alliance at the time of its discovery had been ten drops. Which meant either the venerable one had gulped down half on the sly, or Shaolin had quietly spirited the rest away. One of the two, surely.

"A windfall, then."

My mood lifted all the same. I had found a treasure, and at double the expected amount — what wasn't to like? Just then, a small cave caught my eye, more than roomy enough for one person to slip inside and fold into a cross-legged seat.

"Shall we begin right ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠away?"

What was there to wait for? I had found the Empty Blue Stone Milk — if this was not the moment to enter the Yakseon Heart Decision, then what was? In this very instant, my life was severing itself clean from the life I had lived before.

The Yakseon Heart Decision opened with a message inscribed in a hand so bold and vigorous it left an impression of its own — words Yakseon himself had set down for those who would come after him.

The Destined One. A word enough to set every ambition in the murim ablaze.

Number One Under Heaven?

Yakseon had indeed been counted among those called Number One Under Heaven, but never as its undisputed holder. For a moment I took the old man for a shameless windbag — ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠until the next line dissolved that impression entirely.

Read another way, it meant Yakseon had contended as an equal with the Number Ones of his own era without ever completing the Heart Decision.

Behind the message followed the core essentials of the Yakseon Heart Decision, together with commentary — the very text that, in my previous life, Singija had personally deciphered and proclaimed to be genuine.

And I was now undertaking its first stage.

Stage One: the Reformed Body. A stage in which the Empty Blue Stone Milk was used to forge the Eight Extraordinary Meridians, force open the Ren and Du vessels, and burn away every impurity heaped up in the blood channels and the body itself. In truth, it amounted to nothing less than the legendary exchange of bone and marrow — a rebirth said to visit only warriors who had reached the Harmony Realm, achieved here at the very first step. Small wonder the elixir was required.

It was like laying the foundation of a house: the wider and firmer the ground you secured, the finer the house you could raise upon it.

Gulp.

I had set my sights on nothing less than Number One Under Heaven, and so I boldly swallowed half the milk in one go. That came to roughly ten drops — more than three times what Yakseon himself had managed. Even so, ten drops remained, and my regret proved smaller than I had expected. In my mouth the Empty Blue Stone Milk melted softer than candy and slipped down my throat. It tasted better than I'd expected, too.

"Let's begin."

Folding into a cross-legged seat, I set the Dancheon Heart Method in motion — the cultivation art that had carried me to the First-Class Realm. To run a heart method was to gaze inward upon oneself, and there it was: a colossal energy coiled in my belly — the power dissolved within the Empty Blue Stone Milk. It was energy of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a kind I had never known, so vast that the first-class internal power I had spent a decade and more amassing looked like a grain of millet beside it.

Now.

I laid the formula of the Yakseon Heart Decision over the Dancheon Heart Method. This was no feat of brilliance unique to me — the Heart Decision had simply been built that way. It was called a heart decision, Yakseon had written, precisely because it was founded on compatibility with every heart method in existence.

The sluggish energy gathered pace, taking on spring and force, and began to circle through my meridians. And when the milk's power, riding the heart method, had wheeled its Grand Circuit through my channels and arrived at the Ren and Du vessels —

Psshat.

— came a sound almost deflating in its mildness. They said the opening of the Ren and Du meridians rang louder than a crack of thunder; armchair enthusiasts loved to render it a mighty "BOOM!", and those who had actually lived through it swore reality came close. But before the power of ten drops of Empty Blue Stone Milk, my Ren and Du vessels had offered no resistance whatsoever. Hence that anticlimactic little psshat.

Oooh.

In the very instant the Ren and Du opened, I felt a circulation of internal energy I had never once known in my life. At last, the Grand Circuit of my heart method had found its perfect path. But —

Not yet.

Perhaps because I had taken ten drops, the milk's energy was still raging fiercely through my channels. Without letting my focus slip, I kept the Yakseon Heart Decision turning ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠without pause.

Fwoosh.

A sound like fire taking hold rang in my ears as though it were a hallucination — the turbid qi of a whole lifetime being seared out of my body and vessels. There was none of the reeking stench that usually accompanied a sudden leap in martial power, none of the filth expelled through the skin. Milk and Heart Decision together burned every impurity away, and my body grew endlessly, serenely pure.

And at last, with a soft, silken hush, the energies of the Empty Blue Stone Milk — their work complete — seeped into every minor meridian of my body.

Deep in selfless absorption as I ran the Heart Decision, I felt my body lift from the ground, still folded cross-legged, drifting into empty air. Whether I was truly floating or whether the extreme euphoria had planted the illusion in me, I could not say. I only knew that behind closed eyes I witnessed, with perfect clarity, a blue flame blazing fierce and bright.

When I opened my eyes, a piercing light flashed within them.

The Reformed Body was complete.

I carefully sealed the remaining Empty Blue Stone Milk into the glass vial I had brought with me. The vessel had been crafted to keep elixirs from spoiling or oxidizing; nothing in the world could have been better suited to storing it. In truth, most of the money my father had given me had gone into buying the damned thing.

And what of it? The thought of the ten drops resting against my chest made my heart feel rich enough.

"The Reformed Body."

It was the literal truth. It was my body — and yet it was not my body. A change had come over me great enough to shake the heavens and rock the earth. I didn't need to sit and gaze inward, or bend this limb and that, to feel it: the Ren and Du meridians had opened and my internal energy moved at my bidding without the least friction, while the residual milk steeped through every minor meridian, feeding me an unbroken stream of vitality.

Never having touched the loftiest heights of the martial path, I couldn't swear to it — but I felt certain the man I was now was stronger than Myeong-gae had been at his absolute peak.

From the crown of that sheer, heaven-scraping cliff, I looked down. The Dancheon Myeong who had clawed his way up this rock, fretting over a misplaced foot, over a handhold about to crumble, no longer existed.

"So this is Stage One?"

With a satisfied smile, I threw myself off the edge.

Tap!

Light as a leaf, my body dropped, the tips of my feet kicking briskly off the rock face all the way down. Thinking back on it now, the monk who had trained his lightfoot art here was not such a madman after all.

I can do this.

The conclusion Stage One left me with was a conviction: that I could reach Number One Under Heaven.

Three days from the Dancheon Sword Clan's seat in Anhui to Mount Cheonjung in Henan. One day to find the milk on the mountain. Three more to make the journey home. My solitary trip, budgeted at a full seven days and nights, ended in six.

The reason: a body remade by Stage One had run clean past my plans.

I don't even get tired?

Perhaps it was the opened Ren and Du meridians, or the milk steeped through every vessel of my body — or both. My lightfoot pace hadn't changed all that much, but the circulation of internal energy had improved beyond all recognition. If hunger hadn't caught up with me, I could have covered the whole road back to the Dancheon estate in a single day without once stopping. The internal power I spent returned in no time over a meal and a short rest — without a single session of breathing cultivation.

In any case, I arrived at the Dancheon Sword Clan without incident.

"Young Master Myeong, I presume?"

"You've worked hard."

The guard at the main gate knew me on sight, and I passed into the estate without trouble — the only oddity being the strangely stiff look he gave at my greeting.

The moment I reached my quarters, fatigue crashed over me. I should take it easy tonight. Call it a peaceful journey compared to a beggar's life, but six days on the road had left a weariness of the mind that wanted easing.

Then —

"And just where have you been, showing your face only now!"

A woman's voice, sharp as a whetted blade, struck my ears.

"Mother. What brings you here?"

The woman — Baek Yeo-hae — had been waiting in my quarters. Her face was thick with displeasure. I had expected her to come looking for me again sooner or later; that she moved this fast, I could only be grateful for.

The reason she had come looking for me again stood plainly before my eyes.

"You refused a betrothal with me?"

A great beauty, her face set in a somewhat bratty expression, stood beside Baek Yeo-hae.

"That I did."

I knew exactly who she was. She was the woman to whom I had been betrothed in my life before regression. The one who had wounded me in that life stood before me once more — wearing an expression that showed not the slightest intention of ever taming that temper of hers.

Yes. I expected you would react exactly this way.