Chapter 272
Chapter 272
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 272
Chapter Title: Qingcheng Sect
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Martial artists get injured often. However, physicians capable of treating internal injuries sustained by martial artists are exceedingly rare.
In other words, the relationship between physicians and martial artists is intimate yet subtly estranged.
That said, if they can be treated, martial artists make for exceptionally fine patients.
Among all the countless people in this world, martial artists are the ones who take the greatest care of their health.
"Rest for the next three days."
"Got it."
If such a conversation occurred between a physician and a farmer, or a physician and a craftsman, the farmer or craftsman would never rest for three full days.
They'd lie obediently for half a day, then by evening start fussing over trivial tasks because they felt antsy, and for the next two days, they'd trust their bodies and work as usual. That was commonplace.
In the end, they'd come back with aggravated wounds most of the time.
But martial artists are different. If you persuade them well and tell them to rest, they obediently do so.
Since refining body and mind to peak condition is the goal of their lives, they heed physicians' advice well.
There are other minor advantages too. They understand medical terminology far better than ordinary folk, and they spend generously.
'It's not the right time to take money now, but from here on, I hope plenty of martial artists visit the Tang family estate.'
As Dang Mujin finished tending to the externally injured patients and rose to leave, Yu Jingwang approached and plopped down before him.
Blood was still streaming from Yu Jingwang's face.
"Oh right, Hero Yu got hurt too. Hold on a moment."
Dang Mujin rummaged through his medicine pack, intending to apply some golden sore salve. But Yu Jingwang waved him off.
"I'm fine. A scar or two doesn't matter."
"It's not about the scar. If the facial skin festers or rots, you could die. That's why I'm treating it."
"···Really?"
"Of course."
Yu Jingwang looked horrified at Dang Mujin's words.
There are martial artists who die bravely in battle, but none who want to die from an infected wound.
Dang Mujin washed Yu Jingwang's wound with clean water, then applied a generous amount of golden sore salve.
Yu Jingwang clenched his teeth in pain. But he didn't groan. That's just who Yu Jingwang was.
"There, all done. Just be careful not to wash off the medicine while you recover. Even when sleeping, lie so it doesn't rub off. I'll reapply in three days."
Dang Mujin said this, but Yu Jingwang didn't rise.
"I didn't come for treatment."
"Oh right. What brings you here?"
"To talk about what comes next."
Yu Jingwang leaned back casually, propping himself up with both arms. It was a relaxed, leisurely pose that didn't suit his disheveled appearance.
Yu Jingwang asked,
"Hey, Dang Mujin. Do you know how the Righteous-Evil War unfolds?"
"Not really."
"Figured as much. Then, do you know how it ends?"
"That I don't know either."
Dang Mujin had never personally experienced a Righteous-Evil War. The last one happened when he was about five years old.
Back then, Dang Mujin hadn't even known such a war was occurring. And he probably wasn't alone in that. Even recalling his memories, nothing special stood out from that time.
Yu Jingwang explained,
"Every war has an aggressor who strikes first and a defender who holds the line. In most Righteous-Evil Wars, the evil factions attacked, while in the Righteous-Demonic War, the righteous martial world took the offensive. In other words, we've been on defense this time."
"So we're just defending from now on?"
"Not exactly. The righteous martial world counterattacks and pushes back sometimes."
"Hmm."
Dang Mujin nodded as if he understood.
Slipping in such small reactions during conversation always energizes the speaker.
Sure enough, Yu Jingwang looked pleased.
"Anyway, a Righteous-Evil War is about fighting to the death and burrowing into enemy territory until their offensive stalls. Every war had different causes and reasons for involvement, but those are all trivial details."
"So, was the righteous martial world's territory different in the past?"
"Yeah. Remember Huan'gu Peak beyond the Yellow River? I heard long ago it was righteous territory."
"I see."
Yu Jingwang straightened up and leaned forward. This must be the main point.
"Anyway, these wars end when both sides are so exhausted they can't easily invade each other's domains anymore. A new balance forms, and that's usually the end."
"It fizzles out."
"Exactly. That's why there's no real victor or loser—just attrition."
"Understood."
Through repeated such wars, eventually one side—righteous or evil—might unify the Central Plains martial world. That thought crossed his mind.
No telling when, but if that day came, the division into righteous and evil would become ancient history.
Yu Jingwang spoke again.
"Anyway, our next move boils down to two options. First, stay put here and hold off the evil martial artists' assaults. Second, boldly push north and kill that spear-wielding old coot and the bald guy."
From the looks of it, Yu Jingwang didn't even know the titles Twin Extremes Blood Elder and Ghost King. Then again, he wasn't the type to care about such things.
Dang Mujin guessed Yu Jingwang's thinking.
No need to deliberate which option Yu Jingwang preferred—it was obvious.
"You want to head north, right?"
"Yeah. Waiting here's less grueling, but it'd drag on endlessly with no end in sight. Strike north, take their heads, and we wrap it up cleanly and head home."
But Dang Mujin sensed a subtle doubt in Yu Jingwang's words.
The evil factions had more experts than just those two. Eliminating them wouldn't end things.
"Killing Twin Extremes Blood Elder and Ghost King won't end the Righteous-Evil War, will it?"
"Of course not. But that's all we can do in the northwest. The northeast is for Shaolin Temple, Beggars' Sect, or their local sects to handle."
His attitude was like it was someone else's problem.
Dang Mujin asked in confusion,
"···Can you really wrap it up like that?"
"Naturally. The Central Plains are vast. We can't dash east for dozens of days to help out with one swing of the sword and come back. The basis of a Righteous-Evil War is defending your own turf. Sect bases aren't there for show."
Only then did Dang Mujin grasp what a Righteous-Evil War truly was.
It wasn't two unified forces—righteous and evil—fighting in lockstep. Rather, each sect formed alliances and waged survival struggles on their own.
In essence, the righteous martial world was less a community and more a loose alliance.
Moreover, a Righteous-Evil War resembled countless local skirmishes, each sect staking its fate.
Being part of the "righteous martial world" lacked the ironclad identity Dang Mujin had imagined.
Realizing this, he finally understood why eastern sects had seemed half-hearted during Righteous-Demonic War discussions.
To them, it really was someone else's affair.
Yu Jingwang continued,
"I won't even need to shout about heading north—it'll happen anyway. Zhongnan Sect already lost their sect leader, so they can't retreat. Qingcheng Sect won't want to return empty-handed with Elder Yeongheo's condition so dire. From the mood, Huashan Sect's elders feel the same···. Wudang Sect might be more passive, though."
Yu Jingwang seemed disinterested, yet he'd already assessed each sect's situation. He was bold, not foolish.
Yu Jingwang straightened his posture and clapped his palms together.
"So, what I want to ask is this: what will you do next?"
The conclusion was decided from the start.
"Naturally, I'll go with you. Can't loiter in a strange land twiddling thumbs when home and family await."
"Good."
Yu Jingwang grinned in satisfaction.
*
Though the mood was set for regrouping three days then heading north, Elder Yeongheo requested two extra days from each sect leader.
The leaders saw little difference between three or five days and readily agreed.
Some Zhongnan Sect martial artists took their elder's body and returned to their sect.
Unlike them, however, Elder Yeongheo didn't return to Sichuan Province with Qingcheng Sect disciples, despite being unable to fight.
Amid this, Hong Geolgae brought intriguing news to Dang Mujin.
"Dang Mujin. Heard the news?"
"What?"
"Elder Yeongheo asked for two more days to use Qingcheng Sect's secret art."
"Secret art?"
A secret art. Just hearing it piqued interest.
"What kind?"
"Dunno. But if you ask him, he'll tell you."
"···A secret art, you say. Think he'd really reveal it?"
"He will. He told me that's what it is."
Dang Mujin's eyes sparkled. Aside from tending patients bit by bit, he had nothing else to do.
When Dang Mujin and Hong Geolgae visited Elder Yeongheo's quarters, Hyeon Gong and Namgung Myeong slyly tagged along, drawn by the scent of gossip.
The four entered Elder Yeongheo's quarters.
Dang Mujin expected a deeply depressed Elder Yeongheo, but surprisingly, the elder greeted them brightly.
Hong Geolgae broached the topic.
"Sect Leader. You said you'd use a secret art."
"Indeed."
"Could we learn what it is?"
Hyeon Gong sat awkwardly, butt scooted back, ready to bolt if the mood soured.
But his worry was unfounded. Elder Yeongheo readily explained.
"Secret art? It's the Merit Transfer Art."
Unfamiliar with Merit Transfer Art, Dang Mujin glanced around.
Fortunately, Hong Geolgae, Namgung Myeong, and Hyeon Gong looked equally clueless.
Hong Geolgae asked again.
"What is the Merit Transfer Art?"
"It's a secret art that transfers one's accumulated internal energy to another."
An unimaginable tale. Dang Mujin's eyes widened.
"Is that possible?"
"Why else would it be called a secret art?"
Hyeon Gong asked in a tense voice laced with faint anticipation.
"Who receives the energy?"
"Jin Hae will. He's talented and the youngest, so he'll make best use of it."
Dang Mujin noticed Namgung Myeong's eyes darting about.
'No way he's scheming to steal the energy?'
Such a horrific thought made Dang Mujin feel faint guilt.
Even Namgung Myeong wouldn't stoop that low. It wasn't human thinking.
Hong Geolgae asked again.
"So Jin Hae becomes an absolute peak expert?"
"Not quite. It just increases the amount of energy. Can't transmit it perfectly anyway. At best, two or three tenths of my lifetime accumulation."
Elder Yeongheo downplayed it, but he wasn't some mediocre martial artist.
Even two or three tenths would be immense—surpassing ordinary spirit medicines easily.
Considering half of a martial artist's training went to building internal energy, Jin Hae was gaining an enormous boon.
"Moreover, Merit Transfer Art boosts quantity, not insight. That's why I asked you to look after Jin Hae."
"Ah!"
Namgung Myeong, Hong Geolgae, and Hyeon Gong nodded casually.
But Dang Mujin felt foreboding. Such a mighty secret art surely had a price.
"Does Merit Transfer Art have downsides?"
Dang Mujin asked out of physician's concern for the patient's health.
Elder Yeongheo replied sheepishly.
"Of course. I hear there's a fifty percent chance the performer dies after. In my current state, probably eighty or ninety percent."
Oddly, no fear tinged Elder Yeongheo's voice as he discussed his own death.
Only regret at not giving more to his sect.
Elder Yeongheo had devoted his life as a Qingcheng Sect Daoist, now resolved to sacrifice it for the sect's future.
Hyeon Gong grasped Elder Yeongheo's hand, tears streaming.
"How can anyone cast aside worldly attachments? It must not have been an easy choice···."
It seemed touching, but Dang Mujin eyed Hyeon Gong oddly. Amid nine parts sincerity lurked a shadowy desire.
Yet Dang Mujin couldn't pinpoint it.
Hyeon Gong continued.
"···Though I'm no Qingcheng Sect Daoist, if I could one day devote myself so for my sect, I'd depart without regret. Are there conditions for the Merit Transfer Art?"
Elder Yeongheo smiled kindly.
"It's secret, so no details. But one thing: it requires the same internal art."
"Ah, same internal art···. I see."
Dang Mujin sensed Hyeon Gong's expression cool slightly, regaining composure instantly.
Wiping his tears seemed almost mechanical.
'Hyeon Gong, that guy had some scheme···.'
Whatever it was, good that it fell through.
Physician-like, Dang Mujin asked,
"Anything I can help with?"
"Not yet. But if my condition worsens in the next five days, I'll call on you."
"Understood."
As they prepared to leave, a thought struck Dang Mujin.
Hadn't Elder Yeongheo requested extending three days to five before heading north?
"Does preparing the secret art take much time?"
Elder Yeongheo shook his head.
"No. Merit Transfer Art needs little prep. The extra two days are to impart Qingcheng Sect Leader's ultimate techniques, oral formulas, and insights to Jin Hae."
"Shall I prepare brush and paper?"
Elder Yeongheo waved again.
"No need. Unlike ordinary manuals, insights can't be captured in writing. Nor should they be recorded."
"Why?"
"Lest they fall into outsiders' hands. Some enlightenments must stay within the sect. Better transmitted verbally."
Fair enough—some teachings were like that.
Dang Mujin's group satisfied their curiosities and left Elder Yeongheo's quarters.
*
That night, while checking patients, Dang Mujin went out and spotted Namgung Myeong pacing alone, deep in thought.
Dang Mujin approached.
"It's dark out. Not sleeping?"
"Elder Yeongheo's words earlier got me thinking. Is that what a true warrior's end looks like? Hesitation-free?"
An unexpectedly sentimental reply.
"Made me choke up for no reason. If I were Elder Yeongheo, I couldn't sacrifice my life to pass on energy."
"But I'm worried."
"About what?"
"From talking with him before, Jin Hae's a bit lacking."
Gossip about others is always intriguing. Dang Mujin probed slyly.
"He looks sturdy and diligent. Lacking how?"
"Yeah. Jin Hae's got good physical talent and instincts, but his wits aren't sharp. Forgets explanations sometimes, struggles with complex ones."
"Really?"
Surprisingly mundane.
Yet Namgung Myeong seemed genuinely regretful, truly concerned for Qingcheng Sect's future. Why pity others so?
But an eerie intuition gripped Dang Mujin.
Felt similar before.
Even Namgung Myeong's clothes were subtly dark. Deep gray.
Suspicious as black garb, yet stealthy.
Dang Mujin muttered,
"Something feels off."
Ignoring him, Namgung Myeong continued.
"As a fellow martial artist, this worries me. Fear Jin Hae might forget Elder Yeongheo's lifelong insights."
"···So what's your point?"
"Prevent a potential tragedy."
Namgung Myeong eyed Elder Yeongheo's quarters—specifically the roof.
Jin Hae was likely below now, absorbing the insights.
"Even if foolish Jin Hae forgets them entirely, no problem. I'll remember and pass them on later."
"You mad···."
Dang Mujin lunged to grab him, but matching Namgung Myeong's stealthy moves wasn't easy.
Namgung Myeong had already vanished silently onto the roof, flattening himself to eavesdrop on the voices within.