129. Shijiazhuang (3)
Shijiazhuang (3)
129. Shijiazhuang (3)
Limitless was not an upgraded version of Taiji. It was Taiji's starting point and its destination. Yet Taiji could not have a starting point; it was Taiji precisely because it flowed infinitely in an unending circle. The contradiction of finding an extreme in Taiji, which should have no extreme—that was Limitless.
The point was, Taiji went round and round. Round and round. The sky went round and round. Life went round and round.
"Look here, young friend. Drinking on an empty stomach makes you drunk quickly. Eat some food to go with it."
The Wine Immortal Sect Leader spoke kindly. One had to listen to one's elders. I ate the food he offered and drank again. Since the food was also plums pickled in liquor, it hardly seemed likely to sober me up, but the pleasure of alternating between two different sublime flavors kept me from stopping.
"Puhahaha! Baek Eun-hyeok, this bastard's drunk! The brat had no manners, and now look at him!"
The Drunken Beggar was having the time of his life. But the finger he was pointing was aimed not at me but at the old Wine Immortal Sect gentleman. He and I both knew we had been drunk for a while. But dissipating internal energy while drinking this masterwork of a liquor, the greatest under heaven, was something a true drinker's pride wouldn't allow.
"Do you like our wine? Young friend?"
The Wine Immortal Sect Leader also asked cheerfully, his tongue already curled.
"Yes. It's the best. The best thing in my life was right here!"
"And what about our old friend?"
"Ah, wait. I'm only sixty-three. Please call me a young friend too."
"Hah! A friend past sixty calling himself young—does that make any sense? You're drunk too, I see!"
Old Man B laughed heartily. Honestly, I was fairly drunk, and in my eyes they all looked like the same red-nosed old men, so apart from the Sect Leader and the youngest old man, I couldn't tell who was who.
"Having spent forty years bearing the title of Drunken Beggar without truly knowing the taste of liquor—I am truly ashamed. But sir, why does the Wine Immortal Sect not interact with the Martial World? You cannot imagine how long I searched for a way to be invited here."
"To protect the wine, of course. Look. All of us here, we're a bunch of old men who wouldn't be out of place in a coffin. What would we do if someone came and raised a ruckus demanding we hand over our wine?"
"What bastard would dare? On my name as an elder of the hundred-thousand-strong Beggars' Sect, I'll personally thrash any bastard who tries!"
The Drunken Beggar spoke, clenching his fist. His imposing manner rubbed me the wrong way, so I threw him a remark.
"If the Beggars' Sect Chief himself came for the wine, could you stop him, Elder?"
"Hmph. No problem. If the Beggars' Sect Leader tried something like that, I'd tell on him to you. The ears and mouths of the Beggars' Sect are spread across the whole world."
Even drunk, his tattletale nature hadn't changed one bit. Not that it mattered—if anyone really tried to bully these old men into handing over the Wine Immortal Sect's liquor, I intended to smash them myself.
"I'd be grateful if you helped. You're only about ten years younger than our youngest junior brother here, so why not join us old-timers for a drink anytime!"
Old Man C spoke delightedly. Whether he was so pleased because he'd gained a powerful patron in the form of a Beggars' Sect elder, or because he'd acquired a youngest member for the drinking table, I couldn't tell.
"Kwahahaha! Elder brothers! Just trust this youngest brother!"
"Very well, youngest. Now it's too hard to keep carrying the wine over in little drips and drabs, so just go fetch the jar."
These old men, with little greed for the Martial World and not much life left anyway. Setting aside the fact that they were Beggars' Sect elders and first-class masters and all that, they quickly sorted out the hierarchy. The Drunken Beggar too willingly went outside and carried back a jar as big as a person.
"Though there are countless Daoist sects under heaven, what each pursues is wholly different. Yeongsan Sect seeks the Dao in Taishang Laojun, and most temples seek the Dao through the Primordial Heavenly Worthy. We of the Wine Immortal Sect seek the Dao in wine. Only then, when we achieve Immortal Ascension and become divine immortals, can we be immortals of wine, can we not?"
The Sect Leader once again filled a large gourd ladle to the brim and handed it to me.
"You speak truly. I already knew it, but the power of wine is truly tremendous. Now that I think of it, all my sworn brothers grew close through wine as well—it seems wine embodies the Dao of the human world, binding relationships tightly together."
The Wine Immortal Sect Leader smiled gently at that. Perhaps I was a little drunk, because the old soak's eyes began to resemble those of a sage. Anyway, we'd already emptied half that enormous jar. Truly, people just had to try things and see.
"It feels as though we've been drinking endlessly, yet only half a jar. Ordinary people would surely want to tuck tail and run, wouldn't they?"
"Puhaha! That's it? I've got no problem with two more jars. If it's too hard, leave it to me and go rest comfortably over there!"
The Drunken Beggar, already tipsy, bragged about his drinking capacity.
"I said ordinary people, didn't I? Are we ordinary people?"
"True. You're not ordinary either, are you? Let's just drain one whole jar each!"
United in spirit before the wine. But the Wine Immortal Sect Leader spoke to us as if amused.
"What nonsense is that? You're both guests of the Wine Immortal Sect, so you must each drink three jars. That leaves five and a half jars remaining."
At the Sect Leader's laughter, my expression and the Drunken Beggar's changed in an instant. It felt as though the alcohol had instantly cleared. Even at a rough estimate, those were enormously large jars easily holding three hundred liters each, and five and a half jars remained?
"Most hard drinkers were exactly like you two at this stage. But from the second jar onward, everyone begs for mercy. I'd like to see how you two fare. For the record, whoever completes this Drinking Ceremony within three days will be taught the secret techniques of the Wine Immortal Sect. Though no guest has ever received them yet."
At the Sect Leader's dangerous words, my eyes and the Drunken Beggar's changed. He and I were both already drunk, and we were simply fools who, even at this age, could not let go of our drinking pride.
But three hundred liters per jar. The path of drinking and the path of urination were entirely different from the path of defecation. It was not a direct structure of mouth-stomach-small intestine-large intestine-anus. Alcohol absorbed into the body mixed with the blood, and had to be filtered by the kidneys before being discharged as urine. With a human body containing five liters of blood, drinking and discharging a hundred and fifty liters was not a chemical problem of alcohol metabolism but a physical limit of sheer fluid volume. We endured and endured, making countless trips to the latrine, but in the end, after the two of us emptied one jar together, we collapsed like dogs.
When I opened my eyes to the sound of mountain birds and the dazzling sunlight, the Drunken Beggar, looking just as shabby as I did, was sitting in full lotus and performing Qi Circulation and Breath Regulation. This was the same man who, just yesterday, had declared that using internal energy to dissipate such fine liquor was something only a whelp unworthy of drinking would do. I couldn't mock him for it now. Even he, a first-class master, was struggling like that—I, a mere second-rate martial nobody, felt as though I was truly about to die.
The blood in my entire body had become wine, and the bright fragrance of the Yang Blossom Art seemed entirely replaced by the scent of liquor. To overcome the skull-splitting hangover, I too quickly finished my Qi Circulation and Breath Regulation, and my eyes met the silent Drunken Beggar's. The old man I had found so insufferable had now become the sole understanding companion who shared all my feelings, and we were engulfed in a powerful bond.
"Five jars left."
"Drinking without internal energy—if we set our minds to it, we could probably manage, but it would take days and Master would worry. So starting today, I'd better use internal energy."
"Right? I could manage too, but an elder shouldn't wallow in drink too long and neglect the Beggars' Sect's affairs. As you'll surely remember, we drank half a jar each yesterday without using any internal energy at all. Which means if we just drink like yesterday for five more days, we can certainly manage."
Having shamelessly flaunted our drinking pride, we now resorted to shabby excuses. Sharing embarrassment always made it brazen.
"Now that I think about it, using internal energy may actually be proper etiquette toward the wine. Wouldn't it be the true rudeness to get drunk and be unable to enjoy the taste of such superb liquor?"
"Hear, hear! This is the wine of the Wine Immortal Sect, my lifelong desire. If I got drunk and couldn't even remember the taste, could I call myself a true lover of wine?"
We would not get drunk in order to enjoy the wine. An absurd excuse, but there had been a saying like that in my past life too: enjoy wine, but do not get drunk. The context was a little different, but it was roughly the same idea. There was no need to watch each other now. Those who had challenged the Wine Immortal Sect's hospitality in the past were mostly the idiots from Yeongsan Sect. But the Drunken Beggar and I, possessing powerful internal energy, were surely the first of our kind. Armed with a reliable weapon, we faced the challenge once more.
The wine of the Wine Immortal Sect was truly so outstanding it needed no description. It wasn't just to the palate of a backwoods bumpkin whelp like me—even the Drunken Beggar, who had roamed all corners of the world and enjoyed countless liquors, rated it just as highly. The problem was that from morning till night, with no food or water, it was only wine. Dissipating the intoxication with internal energy was fine, but once the drink turned into a chore, it became nothing but high-capacity punishment duty. Fortunately, unlike the Drunken Beggar, who was gradually growing miserable, I had a cheat. I had been preparing since yesterday, alternating my body with Hwangseong and Heosan to let them sample a generous amount of the fine wine, but after each of us gulping down a whole jar in a single day, they too had started to grow entirely sick of it. Without even sleeping, continuously going back and forth to the latrine, the second day at the Wine Immortal Sect passed just as agonizingly.
I had dissipated all the wine through ample Qi Circulation and Breath Regulation, but the morning of the third day did not come refreshed. No wonder. I had drunk six hundred liters of wine the day before. Because I had used Qi Circulation and Breath Regulation to strengthen my blood meridians and accelerate my blood circulation to the extreme, I had reached the point of literally drinking while urinating. Three jars meant a staggering nine hundred liters. That was my rough estimate—it might actually have been a thousand liters. A thousand liters of water was one ton, wasn't it? I was truly losing my mind.
"Hehehe. Only half a jar left now. You're the first to have come this far so quickly. But speaking from experience, right about there is the halfway point."
The Wine Immortal Sect Leader spoke with a laugh, holding his cup. Half? What a ridiculous thing to say. The wine truly would not go down anymore.
"Wine contains life, and it contains the Way. Life is not always sweet. If you are one who walks the Path of Wine, you must also fully taste the bitterness of wine."
No, now I couldn't even taste the bitterness. As was fitting for a supreme fine wine, its intensely stimulating flavor had already numbed my sense of taste the day before. I had experienced olfactory fatigue before, but taste fatigue was a first.
—Master! Please help!—
—I never drank more than five cups of wine in my life. Honestly, I cannot understand you or that Beggars' Sect beggar at all. How can a martial artist come to enjoy drinking?—
Even the Flame Emperor, always so reliable, was cold in this situation.
—What about you, Layman? You're an apostate monk, so you can drink, can't you? Just half a jar left. I'm telling you, this is truly delicious wine.—
—I may eat meat, but wine is a different matter. In life, I drank wine and broke the precept of lust, lying with my wife and becoming an apostate monk. After that, I swore before the Buddha never to drink again.—
Damn. Come to think of it, Layman Geo Am hadn't drunk at the Yeongsan Sect's Expedition Ceremony either.
—There is no helping it, then. I shall assist you a little. Drunkenness and disgrace are shameful for a woman, but since any humiliation will be yours to bear, Reverend, it makes no difference.—
The Moon Immortal's welcome voice came when I least expected it. At that single sentence, all the resentment I'd accumulated toward her melted away like snow. Using the Spirit Possession Art to bring the Moon Immortal into my body, I launched the final sprint. Though I had failed to swallow even once in an hour while holding a gourd ladle of wine, I now gulped it down smoothly, and awe filled the Drunken Beggar's eyes.
A hundred and fifty liters. A monstrous amount, but if I thought of it as a hundred and fifty glasses of 1,000cc beer from my past life... damn, that was still an insanely huge amount! But unexpectedly, the Moon Immortal savored the taste of the wine and drank calmly, speaking with satisfaction.
—It was quite an excellent wine. And urinating in a man's body—truthfully, it was something I had wanted to try at least once in seventy years of life.—
Now the Moon Immortal naturally took out the thing and, with one hand holding the wine ladle and the other gripping the cock, drank and urinated simultaneously. It was a little embarrassing, but considering that the Moon Immortal was a grandmother of grandmothers born two hundred and twenty years ago, I felt no particular discomfort, and I was simply grateful to her. But she too was no lover of wine like me, the Drunken Beggar, Hwangseong, or Heosan, so in the end, leaving one final ladle behind, she said she could go no further, and I released the Spirit Possession Art.
The final ladle. Once I drank this, I would bid farewell to this hell of wine, but the wine truly, utterly refused to go down.
"You seem to be struggling quite a bit. From the looks of it, you too have been using internal energy to expel the wine, as that fellow did. That is a heretical path on the Way of Wine. It lets you drink fast at first, but in the end you come to a halt like this. Wine is not something to overcome. One must enjoy it and surrender the body to it."
The youngest old man of the Wine Immortal Sect, who had guided us in the very beginning, spoke of the Way of Wine in a solemn voice. According to him, rather than driving away the intoxication, if one simply got smashed and kept drinking, it would come to an end someday, but because we had kept our wits about us, we had ended up enduring that suffering. Truly, it seemed the Way was contained within wine.
Yield Self, Follow the Opponent. The fundamental principle of Transforming Force that Heosan had explained countless times. Resist, and you defeat yourself.
Natural Nonaction. The words Master had emphasized countless times. All things must follow the natural order. Only now did I barely realize what had gone wrong. As if possessed, I gulped down the wine and let the flow of internal energy that had been expelling it simply flow along with the wine.
Not just the way I drank—my entire understanding of Transforming Force had been wrong. Heosan's sword, inherited through Wudang's orthodox transmission, was not a sword for defense. This was probably my second enlightenment. The first had also come under extreme circumstances, so I did not lose consciousness this time either. Immersed in joy, I went out into the courtyard, took up my sword, and drew my Dao upon the empty air. Taiji had a clear form, so clear it had been used as a national flag in my past life, but Limitless had no form. I had to draw it out, embedding the principle of the Way into every sword path.
The Wuji Sword.
The sword closest to perfection in the history of the Martial World—which even in Wudang, proud home of the greatest sword under heaven, only a little over ten people could now perform—had finally unfolded from my hand.