Taoist Arts (6)

29. Taoist Arts (6)

—What?! A Murong Clan expedition ceremony?!—

—Yes. I hear three direct descendants of the Murong Clan will participate in this Dragon-Phoenix Gathering. I have some bad blood with the daughter of the house, and she asked—no, threatened me into performing the ceremony. Old man, you can instruct me, can't you?—

—Of course I can! Who do you think I am! It's next month, you said? That's tight.—

—Why is that?—

—An expedition ceremony for a prestigious clan like that has an invocation of four thousand eight hundred characters. It must be recited continuously for two shichen—four hours—with a sword dance in the middle. Still, don't worry. I'll teach you now, so hurry and memorize it.—

Four... thousand eight hundred characters? Over four hours? Even memorizing the Thousand Character Classic by drawing on knowledge from my past life took me half a year, and now he expected me to memorize a four-thousand-eight-hundred-character chant utterly devoid of meaning?

—Now, repeat after me. Gap-gil-byeong-wol seon-mi-chu-sang mi-ryeok-da-seong...—

—N... hold on. How am I supposed to memorize that right now?—

—It's not as hard as it looks.—

Damn. For all that the old man looked faintly ridiculous, he was enough of a genius in this field to devise Taoist arts like the Spirit-Binding Art. "Not as hard as it looks," my ass.

—I'll just use the Spirit Possession Art. You inhabit my body and conduct it yourself, old man. With your skill, you can handle the staging and movements between sections perfectly, can't you?—

—Spirit Possession Art? Are you telling me to enter your body and take charge of that ceremony?—

—Why, is that hard for you?—

—No, my boy. Think it over carefully. This is the expedition ceremony of none other than the Murong Clan. It will be magnificently lavish, as befits them. Countless martial artists will watch you standing at the altar. For a Taoist, it is a once-in-a-lifetime, never-to-be-repeated opportunity! Are you truly willing to yield such a priceless chance to me?—

The old man ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wailed like some excited otaku.

—No, whether it's the Murong Clan or wherever, it's not even my own family's ancestral rite, so what does any of that have to do with me?—

—Hm. You're right, aren't you. Truthfully, I too have been thinking time is short. And for an event of this scale, it would impose a great burden on you, a newly minted Taoist. You are still young, are you not? So long as you succeed with this ceremony, you will meet such opportunities again. Entrust it to me, and I promise you a flawless expedition ceremony.—

Reverend Hwangseong hemmed and hawed, casually reversing his earlier position and asking me to entrust the ceremony to him. Everyone had different tastes, so I had no desire to judge, but I honestly could not understand his feelings. Come to think of it, whether Taoist or shaman, they were essentially performers who stood before crowds and entertained them with dance-like movements, bizarre cries, and folk songs. To Hwangseong, who had spent his whole life as a Taoist, the Murong Clan's expedition ceremony might have felt like a solo concert at the Seoul Arts Center. Either way, it made no difference to me as long as he cooperated.

—You handle it, Old Master. And from now on, you do all these rituals too, Old Master. Every last one.—

—What? I am happy you entrust them to me, but are you not a Taoist yourself? How can a man who has become a Taoist lack even the ambition to preside over rites through the Taoist studies he has personally mastered?—

—Am I not performing rites through the Taoist arts I did learn? Since I'm using the Ultimate Taoist Art Under Heaven—the Spirit-Binding Art.—

—Th... that's so, isn't it. True. You are the only Taoist under heaven who wields the Spirit-Binding Art. But, you see, as you know, I am now an earthbound spirit tied to this place. To reach the Murong Clan, you will have to use the Spirit Vessel Art and carry my soul with you.—

The Spirit Vessel Art sealed a soul inside an object. What a nuisance. A soul that ought to transcend space and time had to be packed away like luggage.

—Will any object do?—

—If it is merely a vessel for transport, any object will suffice, but the true value of the Spirit Vessel Art is that the spirit infused into the object can move that object directly. For such a purpose, it is best to prepare something the spirit was familiar with in life.—

Hm. For the soul of a musician, an instrument. For the soul of a martial artist, a weapon. If I sealed a soul into the right object, could I create with my own hands, say, an instrument that played itself, or a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠weapon that moved on its own—a piece of ultra-high-tech hardware?

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠—In your case, Old Master, a white feather fan ought to suffice. Master is making one for me now to commemorate my becoming a Taoist.—

—Master? That reminds me, who is the current leader of Yeongsan Sect?—

—My master's name is Chae Yeong-ok, the sixth-generation Sect Leader of Yeongsan Sect.—

—Hm. The name sounds a touch womanish.—

—My master is a woman.—

—What?! Im... impossible!—

—Why? Does it crush you to know that the female disciples you gathered from everywhere to serve as maids eventually took charge as sect leaders?—

—Th... that's not it! How dare you say our Yeongsan Sect has female disciples?!—

The spirit's face was visibly flustered at a glance. The old man truly must have done nothing but rot in the archives as a ghost.

—Were there no female disciples in your day, Old Master?—

—Of course not! That's it. Jeonggang. That bastard. It's his doing, for entrusting the sect leadership to a fellow who was forever mooning over women!—

Reverend Jeonggang, the second-generation Sect Leader of Yeongsan Sect. After him, Yeongsan Sect's Taoists stopped using Taoist names and abandoned the title Reverend as well. I was supposedly a Taoist but knew nothing about reading faces. Even so, Elder Hwangseong did not look like a man who would chase women at the cost of his life's work. He had probably been an otaku with no nerve whatsoever around the opposite sex.

—Good heavens. How could Jeonggang make such a decision, admitting female disciples into Yeongsan Sect?—

—Isn't it obvious? You join Yeongsan Sect, founded by a Maoshan Taoist, only for the man who is supposed to be your master to show no intention of teaching you martial arts or Taoist studies and devote himself entirely to researching the Spirit-Binding Art. The future would have been obvious. Resentful at being stuck as a half-baked Taoist, he must have wanted to descend the mountain and at least find himself a wife.—

—A wife?—

The man who had founded the sect truly knew nothing. Pouring out years of pent-up frustration, I slowly explained Yeongsan Sect's current state to the old man. His face was indignant at first, then gradually paled. Then again, he was a ghost, so perhaps he had been pale from the start.

—I... can that truly be so? Has Yeongsan Sect suffered such hardship? All the men except you are dead, and only the girls remain. Has the sect fallen so far that you must marry them off and close its doors?—

—Why are you pretending to be so shocked? Did you not expect this? Did you seriously believe that after founding a sect from a motley collection of people with neither martial arts nor Taoist learning, some genius would appear from nowhere and revive Yeongsan Sect?—

Of course, not that there are no sects like that. The prime example is my own family, Baek Clan Estate. Without a genius like my great-grandfather, it would have been completely ruined by now. Yet, even apart from my great-grandfather, Baek Clan Estate spared no effort in strategies that set us apart from other sects, in diverse research and endeavor, in order to survive. Yeongsan Sect was far better off than Baek Clan Estate at their respective starting points. Baek Clan Estate had labored for generations to forge ties with the Murong Clan, but had Old Man Hwangseong merely possessed the will, Yeongsan Sect could have secured a connection with a powerful major clan.

Old Man Hwangseong stared in stunned despondency.

—So put aside immortal ascension for the time being and diligently work ceremonies with me—no, perform ancestral rites with me and help me search for the spirits of masters. Our master cannot become a Taoist because she is a woman, cannot travel around conducting rites, and has no martial arts beyond the Three Talents Sword. Do you know how hard she struggles? If you possess a conscience, cooperate.—

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠—O-of course. Ah... how lamentable. If that girl could use the Spirit-Binding Art too, I could personally tell her, in my capacity as founder, that female disciples may become Taoists...—

It was a sorrow unique to Elder Hwangseong, for whom all value in life lay in Taoist arts. Master's burden was not actually her inability to become a Taoist, but his help would still be needed to revive Yeongsan Sect. One of the greatest differences from the twenty-first century was that information in this world was extraordinarily precious. Hwangseong sat atop a vast hoard of old knowledge and Taoist learning, and he would surely be of great help. Information. That reminded me of something.

—Old Master. Would the Yin-Yang Art in the Great Clarity Palace happen to be your work as well?—

—Yin-Yang Art? What's that now? Don't tell me it's some lascivious bedchamber art?—

—It was indeed a bedchamber art.—

Hwangseong practically flipped over in shock. He was a ghost, so toppling backward wouldn't exactly hurt, but he certainly showed his reaction in vivid style. When I opened the book of the Yang Blossom Art and showed him, his jaw refused to close.

—Wh... what is this? This isn't even Jeonggang's handwriting. It is lewd and obscene, yet perfect. It is utterly unlike the name-only bedchamber arts that circulate in the world! A disciple of our Yeongsan Sect created this? Right! A genius was born to our Yeongsan Sect! A genius of Taoist studies had arisen!—

Even Elder Hwangseong did not know the author of the Yin-Yang Art. The text had explicitly identified the author as a Sect Leader of Yeongsan Sect. They were neither the first nor second generation, nor the previous fifth generation or Master's sixth. They were probably the third- or fourth-generation Sect Leader—another one of these damned plague-carriers. If they had possessed the talent to create something like this, they could at least have advanced the sect's Taoist studies instead of hiding a bedchamber art inside the Great Clarity Palace. Why had they behaved exactly like the founder Hwangseong? Unlike Hwangseong, however, they must have enjoyed the bedchamber art thoroughly, because they departed this life satisfied and left no soul behind. The same was true of our current disciples, but this beggarly Yeongsan Sect seemed to possess some strange magnetism for geniuses. I barely managed to soothe Elder Hwangseong, who had taken a keen interest in Yang Blossom Art, then left the archive to exercise. After supper, I soaked in the hot spring.

Today was finally the last day of Yin-Yang Art training with Master. Alternating training with Jeong-hyang, I seemed to have already reached the peak of the Third Stage, and I felt no further advancement.

"So today is my last day of Yin-Yang Art training with you."

By now accustomed to my room, Master calmly settled at the table and addressed me.

"That's right."

"The Yin-Yang Art concealed far more remarkable benefits than I expected. I already knew that it improved the skin, but look here. Yesterday this was a scratch, and now not a trace remains."

She lightly pushed up her sleeve and showed her snow-white arm. Though I had no idea how deep the wound had been, no trace of a scar was visible.

"And here—my breast, where you bit down hard yesterday. Even the teeth marks are already gone."

She parted her clothing with perfect naturalness to show her breast as she spoke. True enough, the marks from where I had bitten down hard yesterday at her request were gone without a trace.

"The benefits of the Yin-Yang Art are far more remarkable than you expected, aren't they? Don't you regret stopping? Who knows how much more astonishing they might become at the fourth stage?"

Her eyes shifting into a bewitching gaze, Master drew near to my side.

"What do you think? No regrets? Hyang-a and I have been satisfying my disciple's carnal desires all this time—don't you think you'll start to feel the lack, going forward?"

Lightly stroking my cock through my trousers, Master whispered.

"Until now, I could force you along through my own insistence. But, Disciple—our Hyang-a is truly beautiful, isn't she? Don't you want to challenge the fourth stage of the Yin-Yang Art with her? Of course, the fourth stage requires taking Hyang-a's virginity. I cannot force that upon you. You must choose it of your own will before I can permit the training."

At last, Master revealed the motives she had kept hidden from me. How hard had she worked to reach this point? She had accepted a man like me as her disciple, studied me carefully over that short time, chosen me as Jeong-hyang's prospective husband, used her own body to break down my resistance, and now appealed to my desire for what I still lacked. At first, I had thought she threw herself at me so readily because she was eccentric, because her ideas about chastity were unusual, or simply because, as an adult woman, she wanted to indulge her own honest desires. But of course that could not have been the whole truth. In the future she had just described, she herself was not among the choices.