The Kunlun Elixir
The fallen pouch clearly belonged to Wi Gunak.
Jang Muhwi’s eyes widened as he inspected its contents.
The items were wrapped in brown oil paper.
On the surface of that paper, the character “Lun” stood out in sharp relief.
“This is…”
Whatever was sealed inside had to be a rare spiritual medicine unavailable on the common market.
In all of Qinghai, only one place dared to use the name “Lun” so openly.
Kunlun.
The great sect of Qinghai.
An elixir bearing Kunlun’s mark? It had to be something the Wi family had gone to great lengths to obtain.
Jang Muhwi paused, inhaling the faint scent that leaked from the wrapping.
“Kunlun’s elixir?”
That distinctive aroma could only belong to the Sorunhwan, the pill bestowed exclusively upon Kunlun’s direct disciples.
An elixir refined by masters of pill-making would surely help bridge the gap between a prestigious clan’s young genius and everyone else.
This was an opportunity.
And as the old gangho proverb said, opportunity had wings. Fail to seize it, and it would fly away forever.
Having made up his mind, Jang Muhwi tucked the medicine into his robes, then drew the sword still planted in the ground.
He glanced around before casually brushing the dirt from the blade.
Swish.
Dust scattered into the cold night wind.
The faint cloud of earth beneath the moonlight was more than enough to hide Jang Muhwi’s quiet smile.
He was sauntering back the way he had come when two dark silhouettes appeared in the distance.
The presence was familiar.
As expected, one of them burst forward.
He clutched a thick club, yet his entire body trembled as if he had been caught in a blizzard.
“Y-young master! What happened to him?”
At that anxious voice, Jang Muhwi answered softly.
“Cheolwoo. It’s me.”
“W-wait a moment. Are you truly unharmed?”
“Yes. Nothing happened.”
“Are you really all right?”
Cheolwoo drew closer and looked Jang Muhwi up and down.
After a long inspection, he whispered under his breath.
“You escaped well.”
“Why do you assume I ran?”
“You’re covered in dirt from head to toe, aren’t you?”
The places Cheolwoo pointed to were indeed caked with soil.
“Sharp as ever.”
“Did I guess right?”
Cheolwoo pouted, looking genuinely disappointed.
“Are you disappointed that I ran away?”
“No, you did the right thing.”
“You’re correct. In any case, everyone’s safe. That’s what matters.”
Jang Muhwi smiled.
In truth, about half of what Cheolwoo said was accurate.
Thanks to Wi Gunak, he had obtained a genuine Giyan and stepped off the predetermined path!
At that moment, Cheolwoo spoke again in a low voice.
“Today’s form contest was truly magnificent, young master. You may not have become the great peng that elder spoke of, but still.”
“The great peng? What are you talking about?”
“Well…”
When Cheolwoo trailed off, Jang Muhwi turned his gaze toward Pajuk Seonsaeng.
The old scholar offered a faint smile and turned away.
“Let us finish the rest of this conversation once we arrive. We are nearly there.”
He paused, took a breath, and pointed into the distance.
A single small house stood proudly on the spot.
For a dwelling tucked away in a remote mountain valley, it was remarkably well-maintained.
Jang Muhwi scanned the surroundings.
The signs of cleaning were not limited to Pajuk Seonsaeng’s efforts alone.
Within twenty paces of the house, not a single fallen leaf could be seen.
Someone had swept the area before their arrival.
Noticing Jang Muhwi’s wandering gaze, Pajuk Seonsaeng pointed toward the main hall.
“Sit for now. I will bring tea.”
A short while later, the main hall was filled with the gentle aroma of tea mingling with the scent of the surrounding forest.
Pajuk Seonsaeng emptied his cup in silence before speaking.
“The technique you displayed during the form contest. I have a question about it.”
“Please ask.”
“With that level of insight, you could have won through direct confrontation rather than such a crude display. Why allow yourself to look so wretched?”
When Pajuk Seonsaeng spoke of looking “wretched,” he referred to the moment Jang Muhwi had deliberately fallen and used his opponent’s own force against him.
In the gangho, falling was considered a single blow to one’s dignity.
So the question was only natural.
Jang Muhwi answered without hesitation.
“It was because of the difference in internal energy.”
“Considering internal energy disparity even in a form contest…”
“Of course. In any fight, one must always keep real combat in mind.”
“Then how about this?”
With those words, Pajuk Seonsaeng picked up a single chopstick and drew a line across the table.
From that moment on, their sword debate continued without pause.
How much time had passed?
A faint smile bloomed at the corner of Pajuk Seonsaeng’s mouth.
A sword debate was not an actual duel.
In a way, it resembled a game of baduk.
Reading the opponent’s moves was paramount.
Pajuk Seonsaeng still held one final move in reserve.
Depending on how the boy responded to this last technique, he believed he could gauge Jang Muhwi’s true talent.
“Now then. I will split your sword in two with a single cut. How will you respond?”
One cut, two halves. It was one of the most basic street sword techniques that anyone would recognize.
Pajuk Seonsaeng had driven his opponent into a corner.
This was the final move.
When Jang Muhwi remained silent, Pajuk Seonsaeng nodded.
“If you block my blade, your sword will break. If you do not block it, you will be injured. In short, a checkmate.”
“What if I do this?”
Having spoken, Jang Muhwi set down the brush.
Tap!
Pajuk Seonsaeng tilted his head at the gesture.
“What does this mean?”
“I will release my sword.”
“You intend to forfeit the match?”
“There is a gangho saying: even if the sky collapses, there is always a gap to slip through.”
“How can releasing your sword possibly be a solution?”
“By letting go of the sword, a gap is created between myself and my opponent. I will use that moment to pivot half a step to the right.”
“Is that not the Wudang’s Floating Cloud Step?”
The Floating Cloud Step earned its name from the way it seemed to walk upon clouds. It was Wudang’s foundational footwork.
Pajuk Seonsaeng had mentioned Wudang because of the rules they had set for their debate: only publicly known martial arts could be used.
Jang Muhwi smiled at the question.
“It is also the street martial art known as the Prajna Three Steps.”
“Oh-ho. I see.”
Pajuk Seonsaeng nodded.
Jang Muhwi lifted the brush once more and drew another line beneath the first.
This time, Pajuk Seonsaeng’s eyes widened.
“You discard the sword and use your fists in close quarters… Heh heh.”
“If I have strayed from the proper bounds of a sword debate, I apologize.”
“Not at all. I am simply amazed.”
Pajuk Seonsaeng chuckled softly.
Yet beneath that laughter, a small ripple stirred in his chest.
It was a fresh perspective on the very nature of sword debates.
The boy named Jang Muhwi had not been discussing theory. He had been speaking of real combat all along.
Pajuk Seonsaeng examined Jang Muhwi once more.
A youthful face that could not be more than twenty years old.
Yet the method he had just proposed was something no one could conceive without the hard-earned experience of a battle-hardened veteran.
A deeper smile spread across Pajuk Seonsaeng’s lips.
What had begun as mere interest in his opponent had now become genuine fondness.
As their sword debate drew to a close, Pajuk Seonsaeng’s eyes changed.
“I have something to ask you.”
“Please speak.”
Jang Muhwi bowed his head respectfully.
Pajuk Seonsaeng stared quietly into the young man’s eyes.
His gaze was as serious as a constable searching for clues.
After a long moment, he continued.
“After suffering such humiliation, why did you follow me all the way here?”
“We encountered assassins on the way. How could I send you on alone? Besides, I wished to become your friend.”
“A friend…”
“You were the first person to ever take my side.”
Those words were sincere.
For a brief instant, the corner of Pajuk Seonsaeng’s mouth lifted.
“You wish to be friends with this worthless old man. Very well. I shall treat you as one.”
“Then please visit my home sometime.”
“I shall. Is that not what friends do?”
“Yes, it would be my honor.”
They continued their conversation.
Though the tea grew cold, the heat of their discussion showed no sign of cooling.
“By any chance, have you heard of the Dragon Gate Assembly?”
“The Dragon Gate Assembly? Is that not the event that selects promising young martial artists to lead this region?”
Jang Muhwi tilted his head as he looked at Pajuk Seonsaeng.
Of course, these were the words he had been waiting for.
For the young talents of this region, the Dragon Gate Assembly was like a gateway to greater things.
Those selected received the glorious title of Soryong.
That title was far more than mere honor.
It granted the right to participate in various Murim Alliance events, which in turn elevated the status of one’s entire family.
What mattered most, however, was that while passing the Dragon Gate Assembly was difficult, simply gaining the right to attend was even harder.
It all came down to the tangled web of interests and factions within the murim.
In a world where faction and connection were everything, the Jang family had no seat at the table.
At least, that had been true before.
But Jang Muhwi had claimed the connection with Pajuk Seonsaeng that should have belonged to Wi Gunak, and that Giyan was now presenting him with a new path.
“Correct. How would you feel about competing in the Dragon Gate Assembly?”
“Me?”
“Looking at you now, it seems a waste to let your talent go unnoticed.”
“Hmm. The Jang family has never once participated in the Dragon Gate Assembly.”
“Then why not take this chance? I will lend my strength.”
“Thank you for the offer.”
“Then I shall look forward to your performance.”
“However, my internal energy is still lacking to truly shine.”
“Heh heh. Is internal energy everything in martial arts?”
“…”
At the continued urging, Jang Muhwi paused for a moment.
Pajuk Seonsaeng might say internal energy was not everything, but the difference in cultivation could not simply be ignored.
If the surrounding environment had been as favorable as it was when he faced Wi Gunak earlier, perhaps it would be different.
But in the Dragon Gate Assembly, there were few ways to close that gap.
Still, Jang Muhwi was not without options.
The Kunlun elixir…
Though he had not planned it, besides the connection with Pajuk Seonsaeng, he had taken something else from Wi Gunak.
The Kunlun elixir the man had dropped.
If he consumed it, he should be able to narrow the internal energy gap with the other young talents to some degree.
Everything is falling perfectly into place.
The situation aligned so precisely it was almost as if measured with a ruler.
In truth, the very first thing Jang Muhwi had wanted to change was his family’s position.
Secure his own footing and elevate the family.
That was his immediate goal.
And to accomplish that crucial task, he needed to participate in the Dragon Gate Assembly—the very gateway to success in this region—and produce results.
Results required internal energy.
And now, by sheer coincidence, both the internal energy and the chance to enter the Dragon Gate Assembly had been handed to him.
It was only natural that Jang Muhwi would think this way.
However, one thing was still missing.
“I gratefully accept your proposal.”
Jang Muhwi finally gave his answer.
Yet even as he spoke, his mind was elsewhere.
To carry out all of this without issue, he would need a mental cultivation technique capable of properly containing his internal energy.
And Jang Muhwi already knew exactly where to find that technique.
He turned his head and gazed into the distance.
In the direction of his family home.
At that moment, Pajuk Seonsaeng poured him another cup of tea.
Glug glug.
The clear sound, like water flowing through a valley, echoed through the main hall.
“A wise decision. Shall we continue the conversation we have yet to finish?”
Jang Muhwi left Pajuk Seonsaeng’s house as dawn approached.
Watching the young man gradually disappear into the distance, Pajuk Seonsaeng quietly looked up at the ceiling.
“What is your impression?”
“…”
“Hm. Even when no one else is around, you still choose your words carefully.”
Pajuk Seonsaeng continued staring at the ceiling.
To any onlooker, it would seem as though he were conversing with a ghost.
Then a faint voice drifted down from above.
“I cannot say he has reached the level of a great peng, but he is certainly no mere chick.”
“It really is difficult to get a straight answer from you.”
Pajuk Seonsaeng smiled faintly and lifted his teacup once more.