Taoist Arts (2)

25. Taoist Arts (2)

—As you can see, my frame is too slight, so I had difficulty learning martial arts. But when it comes to Taoist arts... I know as much as Mount Tai.—

Reverend Hwangseong desperately emphasized his usefulness, pleading for me to postpone his ascension.

—If you knew as much as Mount Tai, why did you leave behind only this much in Daoist texts?—

—Th-that... that is...—

—Fine. If you want to stay, then stay. I get bored anyway, so keep me company sometimes, and when I don't understand something about Taoist arts, you can teach me.—

—Very well. When it comes to Taoist arts, leave it to me. But let me ask one thing. That divine power. How did you obtain it?—

—I received it as a gift from an otherworldly being before I was born. It looked utterly useless, but I never expected I'd end up using it here.—

—An otherworldly being?—

—Well, something like a god, roughly.—

An evil god, technically.

—Astonishing! But in the end, my Spirit-Binding Art was not wrong. Yes. Divine power! If only I had possessed divine power, the Spirit-Binding Art would have been complete!—

The old man marveled to himself and sank into deep remorse. Well, at least I wouldn't be bored for a while. This cramped archive ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠where I was to spend three years was far more tedious than I had imagined. In any case, setting aside the old man's pettiness, the Spirit-Binding Art he created was genuine. He was even a kind of genius who had managed to infer mana—a force from another world that did not exist in this one—and use it to complete the spell. Moreover, he had spent his entire life studying Daoist arts, which was convenient for me. The Daoist texts here were few to begin with. If I were ever asked to perform a rite, looking everything up one by one would be no ordinary task, but with the old man's spirit alone, he would produce perfect answers in an instant, like a search engine.

—Old man. You are an earthbound spirit here, correct?—

—An earthbound spirit, you say! Ah... I am an earthbound spirit, yes.—

The old man bristled for a moment before acknowledging his condition. He truly was a Taoist to the core.

—About this Spirit-Binding Art... can it be used only in the presence of a spirit?—

—Correct. But ordinary wandering spirits drift from place to place, so if you intend to seek one out, an earthbound spirit like me would be the likelier target.—

Hmm...

—Then to summon the spirit of the greatest master of an era, must I visit that master's tomb?—

—No. I too only learned this after dying, but usually, one is bound not to the tomb, but to the place where one's worldly attachment was strongest.—

—Then where must I go to seek the spirit of a great master?—

—Well. I do not know that either. Someone like me could hardly be expected to understand a great master's attachment, and besides, I am bound only to this place.—

—No, Reverend, you are a ghost right now. Can't you just go ask another ghost?—

—A ghost cannot converse with other ghosts. Conversation belongs solely to the living. Would a ghost be called a ghost for nothing? A ghost is one who can do nothing—no conversation, nothing at all—merely clinging to this world in desperation, trapped within lingering attachment.—

It sounded convenient, but was practically useless. Still, at least I could learn the Spirit-Binding Art. I did not urgently need the soul of a great master, so if an opportunity arose someday, I could freely use the previously useless gift called magic power and aim to turn my life around. I would just cast the Spirit-Summoning Art wherever a spirit seemed likely to be. Unlimited Magic Power had gone without a use for over twenty years, so depletion was no concern.

—Then I shall go rest now. I don't know whether ghosts sleep, but let us meet again tomorrow.—

—W-wait. Could we not speak just a little longer? As I said before, conversing like this is the first time in decades!—

—Someone who endured for decades so well, why act like this now? I'll bring some incense tomorrow, so let us meet later.—

I left the archive behind, abandoning the restless old man. A ghost who had merely existed in this world for decades, unable even to converse. The Spirit-Binding Art had definitely worked. If so, his resentful thoughts should have been resolved as well. So why was that old man still lingering like that?

"Junior Brother. You are quite devoted to Daoist studies today."

Jeong-hyang approached me with her usual gentle expression. Thanks to her, I had been dealing with that damned Taoist art since dawn. Although we had spent the morning together like lovers, she showed no visible change. The same was true of Master. Then again, letting such things show before the other disciples would have been dangerous.

"Is it time for external arts training now?"

She asked with an expectant expression. Somehow, my newly introduced weight training had become a form of entertainment in this remote mountain sect. The women had already gathered at one side of the training ground and were waiting for me to begin. Master fed Cho-ryeong nuts such as peanuts and waited happily as though for a movie to start.

"Now, please give me your upper garment."

Jeong-hyang was now asking me to remove my upper clothes before I even began exercising. The body I had worked so hard to build might have been useless for martial arts, but being praised by beautiful women certainly did not feel bad. Still, their expectant gazes made my face grow hot. They prepared my wash water and meals, did my laundry and cleaning, gave me the emotional comfort Cho-ryeong brought, and even relieved my sexual desire. The least I could do for women who handled everything for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me was provide this much of a show.

After breaking a sweat and nearing the end of the workout, Lee Eun-ha approached like a team manager handing over a towel. Cho-ryeong snatched it more quickly than I could and looked up at me with sparkling eyes, so I had no choice but to sit on the ground. Cho-ryeong delightedly wiped my back. A truly kind child.

"Junior Brother. May I ask a question?"

Son Yeong suddenly asked me.

"The Snow-White Sword you taught us, Junior Brother. The link between the third and fourth forms feels somewhat unnatural. I think stepping back half a step like this and adding a motion to raise the sword upward would connect them more naturally... But training as prescribed by the forms is the correct method, is it not?"

Huh... I was dumbfounded. This woman, merely having been taught the Snow-White Sword, was already roughly deducing the sword path of the White Horse Sword, a higher-level martial art.

A genius. As far as I knew, only my great-grandfather had been capable of something like this. He had splendidly elevated the low-level martial arts of a Shaolin lay disciple into the second-rate martial arts now practiced at the Baek Clan Estate. Son Yeong was displaying that same talent before my eyes. What kind of place was this damned Yeongsan Sect? It appeared to have nothing, yet it contained the peerless beauty Jeong-hyang, the genius Son Yeong, the multitalented Lee Eun-ha, the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cutest creature in the universe Cho-ryeong, and even our bizarre Master, the likes of whom would have been difficult to find in the twenty-first century. Was there another sect like this anywhere under heaven?

"Senior Sister Son is correct. The Snow-White Sword is also a foundational martial art. Countless points for improvement exist, and you have located that part. As for the higher-level White Horse Sword, I cannot teach it, so it would be best for you to add the sword path you discovered yourself and train that way."

"Is that so? Thank you, Junior Brother."

With a delighted face, Son Yeong gripped her sword and refined the Snow-White Sword, inserting the movement from moments before. Though I knew several higher-level martial arts, not being able to teach them further was genuinely regrettable.

After the evening meal and washing up, Master arrived without fail. To be honest, after just one day, I had begun to anticipate this hour.

"This morning's training with Hyang-a... was it enjoyable?"

"Yes."

"I'm glad you've grown honest, my disciple. Hyang-a also said she was so happy, so I feel quite pleased as well."

Master sat on the stool with a proud expression.

"Our Hyang-a... Is she not truly beautiful? And her heart is as smooth as silk, besides. Were I the disciple, I too would find myself waiting all day only for the morning."

"Honestly, Senior Sister Jeong's beauty is truly remarkable. Even if one searched the whole world, there would probably be fewer than ten women like her."

Ever since I had learned what the world's Top Hundred Masters truly represented, I had been cautious with claims of this kind. Even so, after searching the entire vast Central Plains, would one truly find anyone as beautiful as Senior Sister? Possessing such unrivaled beauty without cosmetics or even proper nutrition was cheating beyond belief. Perhaps because we had licked her pussy together, did Master feel something like parental pride? She looked endlessly pleased by my praise of Jeong-hyang.

"In about five more sessions, I will likely reach the peak of Yin Blossom Art's Third Stage. Since I cannot challenge the Fourth Stage, you need only train with me five more times."

Ah... what a relief. At least Master was not attempting the Fourth Stage of Yin Blossom Art, which would require violating her entire body. Yet, though it was a relief, something felt slightly regretful too...

"Now, since few opportunities remain, speak plainly, my disciple. Tell me anything—how I may please you."

Master's gaze subtly shifted.

"Hyang-a said that beneath the blankets, pressing her body tightly against your firm body, my disciple, and speaking as though whispering into your ear feels truly wonderful. And you, my disciple? How should I act to make you feel even better?"

"Even now, it's sufficiently good. Rather, let me ask you, Master. What about you? Is there anything you especially desire?"

"Me? Hmm... I am a little different from Hyang-a. Hyang-a wishes to be handled softly, but I would like you, my disciple, to touch me somewhat roughly. I wish you would grip my breasts with those large, strong hands as though they might burst, and pinch my nipples hard enough that they might come off. At times, when the pleasure builds, slapping my bottom with a sharp clap would also be intensely delightful, wouldn't it?"

Her alluring eyes glittered as Master laid her sexual inclinations bare before me. This was awkward to say, but she seemed to have a slight masochistic streak. She rose from the stool, removed her clothes, folded them neatly, and began undressing me. The moon was nearing its final phase and the night was dark, but the moment her naked body aroused me, Yang Blossom Art began circulating on its own, making her body clearly visible.

"Master. Down there, below—what happened?"

In the space of a single day, her formerly thick pubic hair had been cleanly shaved, making the already youthful-looking Master appear even younger.

"I see. You indeed notice, my disciple. There seem to have been several effects not recorded in the texts. That... does a woman without pubic hair truly look ill-omened?"

She now asked shyly. In this era, women were treated as ill-omened beings in many ways. In particular, menstruating women or hairless women were sometimes forbidden even from sharing the same space. But that had nothing to do with me. For someone who had lived in a world where professional waxing salons existed, it was rather a special pleasure. The smooth, slippery appearance of her pubic area stirred a peculiar excitement. Moreover, since the view previously concealed by pubic hair was now fully visible, honestly speaking, it was far better.

"If it's ill-omened, what of it? Resolving such matters is what a Taoist does."

"Isn't it so? I thought you would say so. In truth, I cut off my pubic hair to make the White Feather Fan you will now use. To make a White Feather Fan, one must burn a woman's hair and apply its ashes. But I am nominally the Sect Leader of Yeongsan Sect. I thought that if I went completely bald, I might be mistaken for an Emei Sect disciple, so I cut off all my pubic hair, which is a material equivalent to head hair."

Good heavens. I had heard occult stories about women's head hair or pubic hair possessing sorcerous power, but I had never imagined there would actually be a woman who would cut off her pubic hair for such a reason.

"Besides, if I had no head hair, it would be far too embarrassing, wouldn't it? Even without pubic hair, only you, my disciple, would see it, so I chose this option."

Master spoke bashfully. This was an era when one truly cherished the body inherited from one's parents. In such a time, she had given me the precious pubic hair that grew in her most secret place. Though she remained an eccentric whose mind I still could not fathom, this was the reason I was always pulled along by her and ultimately came to follow her words.

She herself said she was incompetent, but she always moved for the sake of her disciples, myself included. No matter how harsh the circumstances, as master and sect leader, she might fairly have ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠received treatment even slightly better than her disciples, yet she had always worn the same rags and eaten the same thin gruel. Now that conditions had slightly improved, she still always gave her share of snacks to Cho-ryeong, who was at a growing age. And though they were shabby, she had given a true sword at least to Son Yeong when everyone was swinging wooden swords without even a genuine blade.

Truly a strange person. When I pulled her tightly into my arms as that master desired, she let out a soft moan. I seized her already firm nipples and twisted them as though they would indeed come off, at times even taking them into my mouth and biting. Touching her pubic area with my hand was forbidden, but as her sticky love fluid trickled quietly down her thighs, and I timed my slaps upon her bottom accordingly, Master's face was already steeped in bliss. Whether her strange actions undertaken out of concern for her disciples, or the strange inclination to grow more aroused the more it hurt, all of it lay beyond my understanding. Yet, seeing Master so happy like this, my heart was filled with warmth as well.

Master had spent a long time kneeling on the floor and licking my member. Worried that her knees would ache, I laid her on the bed and used her mouth myself, thrusting my hips as though it were her pussy. My large member occasionally struck the back of her throat and made her suffer, yet she was unmistakably swallowing it more blissfully than ever.