Ten Things to Do Before I Die (1)
He looked again, concentrating, but nothing more appeared. The two old men kept staring at Jin Yigang's hands. Whether he knew or cared that now five people were watching him, Jin Yigang focused on whittling his stone. He cut it to a decent size, then shaved down the edges until it was round.
Once it took shape, he carved a groove into it so it could be gripped with a finger.
"What the hell are you doing right now?"
Old Man Shi asked.
"You're the most curious one here, old man, aren't you?"
Jin Yigang asked with a sly grin.
"Damn right, you brat. I can't stand not knowing something."
"Same here. I can't rest until I ask about what I'm curious about. It's a weapon."
"……"
"I'm making the most primitive weapon ever to appear in this world."
"And what exactly do you plan to do with that thing?"
"I've brought down tigers throwing stones."
"So you're saying you'll kill warriors with it?"
"That tiger was before I started taking the medicine."
"So now that you've taken it, you're faster and stronger than back then?"
"Took it, my ass. I've swallowed it every single day for the past five years without missing once. Take that much medicine and the effects are bound to show."
"Effects, effects. Can you prove them to us?"
Old Woman Yu asked.
"Can you do this, granny?"
Jin Yigang sprang to his feet and knocked out twenty one-armed push-ups in a blink, then sat back down in his spot and resumed carving.
Old Woman Yu and her companions stared at him, dumbfounded. What he'd just done wasn't an easy movement, but anyone could manage it with steady practice. And he was attributing it to medicine?
"That's bullshi—"
"It just happened one day, all of a sudden."
Jin Yigang cut off Old Man Shi.
"One day?"
"Yep. So you old-timers should take the medicine too. What Jecheon Medical Manor makes is the best. And here's a secret just for you three…… take it for the long haul."
He finished in a whisper.
"……"
"Heh! Hehehe!"
"Kukuku!"
Low chuckles drifted over from the side.
Jin Yigang turned his head. Three men sat there gnawing on strips of dried meat. They were strange-looking, and they looked strong. One had a shaved head but wore Daoist robes, one had long hair but wore a Buddhist monk's cassock, and the last had wild, unbound hair — wearing both the Daoist robe and the cassock.
"Interested in the medicine?"
"If we are, will you give us some?"
asked the bald-headed Daoist.
"Did you shave that head on purpose?"
Jin Yigang changed the subject.
"I did."
"Considering you're wearing Daoist robes, you're a Daoist… but the monk's life must have appealed to you more, huh?"
"How did you know?"
"Then the guy next to you must be the monk?"
"Correct."
The long-haired man nodded.
"Then that fellow over there—"
"I am—"
"Wait, let me guess."
Jin Yigang cut him off quickly.
"A cult leader, right? A snake-oil preacher?"
"……!"
The man in the cassock over Daoist robes stared at Jin Yigang with wide eyes.
"Got it right."
"You could make a living as a fortune-teller. How did you know?"
the man asked.
"You're wearing both, aren't you? Nobody wears both except a fraudulent cult leader. So what's your name?"
"People call us the Three Eccentrics."
Indeed. The long-haired man in the cassock was Gwangbul, the Mad Buddha; the bald man in Daoist robes was Gwangdo, the Mad Daoist; and the cult leader was Gwangsa, the Mad Heretic.
"Famous?"
"Yes."
Gwangsa nodded.
"How famous?"
"Very."
"More famous than Daebo?"
"Who's Daebo?"
"Tyrant Kun Fiend."
"Yeah."
Gwangsa nodded again.
"Hey, Daebo!"
"What?"
Mu Daebo, lounging against the wagon, answered.
"These three smelly old widowers here say you're a total has-been."
"Wh-when did we ever say that, you brat? We never said any such thing!"
Gwangsa jumped up and shouted.
"Isn't that what 'more famous' means?"
"We said more famous. We never said stronger."
"Far as I can tell, that's exactly the same thing… Hey, Daebo!"
"What."
"They say they'll surrender for now."
"For now…"
"All three of them look like they hold a grudge something fierce. You'd better watch your back on night roads from now on."
"So this is my first day learning the Three Eccentrics were such big shots. Should I take a look at your faces, at least?"
Mu Daebo sprang to his feet.
"You'll have to save the beating for later, Daebo."
Jin Yigang picked up his stones and stood. The moment he rose, Je Hayeong and Je Chuyeong emerged.
"We're moving out."
Je Hayeong told the group.
"No."
Jin Yigang shook his head.
"Why?"
Je Hayeong looked at him.
"It's your first time on this road, isn't it?"
"What of it?"
"You don't seem to know about the Reed Sea."
"The Reed Sea?"
"A reed field. It stretches along both sides of the official road for twenty li."
"Ah, that place? You mean it's a good spot for an ambush?"
"The perfect spot."
"Hmm! Understood. Let me consult with the others."
Je Hayeong discussed it with her commanders. Before long, Mak Hong and Na Seok-jin took men into the market. They returned half a shijin later.
"There's no iron to make shields."
Na Seok-jin reported to Je Hayeong.
"The smithy has no iron?"
"Not none at all, just nowhere near enough to forge shields. Besides, we've reinforced our numbers. We won't be beaten easily."
Mak Hong said.
"Very well. Let's trust in our own strength, then."
Je Hayeong gave the order to move out.
Jin Yigang immediately climbed up to the driver's seat. The two old men, Shi and Yu, settled in on either side of him.
"Isn't driving the wagon supposed to be my job?"
"Let us in on a little of it."
"What do they call that movement art that lets you walk on empty air like a kite?"
"Void Treading Step."
"Can you do it?"
"Do you know how much internal force it takes to perform Void Treading Step?"
"No idea."
"Six jiazi."
"Three hundred and sixty years?"
"That's right."
"If a wagon wheel gets stuck in a mud hole, will you pull it out?"
"I will."
"Then you have our permission."
Jin Yigang went back to carving his stone.
"This will serve you better than that thing."
Old Woman Yu drew out a short blade curved in a gentle arc and held it out. The blade was red as blood, about seven chi long — roughly twenty-one centimeters.
Something had once been attached to the pommel too; only the scar of its absence remained.
"Looks nice."
"It's a blade specialized for carving stone."
"Really?"
Jin Yigang sheathed Mu Daebo's sword and drew the short blade the old woman had given him.
"Just looking at it, it seems a million times better."
He broke into a wide grin.
A faint red glow seeped from the blade itself. It was as if a reservoir of crimson light had been gathered inside the steel, and every time the blade left its sheath, it let a little of it out.
"I'd like to borrow this for a year. Would that be all right?"
"A year?"
"I only need it until then. I hear that Daebo bastard refuses to lend it to anyone."
"Use it."
Old Woman Yu nodded.
—Are you sure you should give that away?
Old Man Shi asked, astonished. The short blade Old Woman Yu had handed to Jin Yigang was named Jeokroe, the Crimson Thunder.
Once upon a time, a legend had circulated through the murim: whoever unlocked the secret of Jeokroe would become the greatest under heaven.
Of course, given how thick the murim was with exaggeration and bluster, there were already hundreds of weapons carrying legends like Jeokroe's. Anything that looked the least bit mystical inevitably came bundled with a tale that its secret, once unraveled, would make its holder the greatest — or the greatest of all ages.
But Jeokroe was different.
Word had come down endlessly that it was the sacred treasure of a power that had once ruled the world. Even setting the legend aside, Jeokroe was a divine blade that could slice rock like tofu. And she had handed it over without a single condition. No wonder he was stunned.
—Thirty years I've carried it. About time it changed hands.
—If that's how you feel, then…
"Can I use this to cut meat?"
"Meat?"
Old Woman Yu looked at him, horrified.
"Every time I break down a hunted animal, I always wished I had a knife like this. If you say don't use it, I won't."
"Use it however you like."
"Thanks."
Jin Yigang beamed.
"Ah, so busy."
He took up his stone again and swung Jeokroe.
Swish!
"Whoa!"
Jin Yigang turned to Old Woman Yu with a startled face.
"What's the matter?"
"Isn't this knife way too good?"
"Do you even know that it's good?"
"I have eyes, you know. This isn't just a blade — it's a treasure."
"And you mean to slice meat with such a treasure?"
"That's too much, isn't it…"
"Obviously—"
"Still, it's better than cutting a person's throat with it, no?"
"……"
Old Woman Yu opened her eyes wide and stared at Jin Yigang.
"That last remark was out of line. I retract it."
Jin Yigang buried himself in his work again. The good blade cut his working time by more than half.
Time flew by, and the Heavenly Physician Wagons picked up speed.
"Whoa!"
Old Man Shi, driving the wagon, reined it to a stop.
Jin Yigang raised his head and looked around. A river flowed to the right.
"The White River."
The White River rose in the Funiu Mountains and flowed south until it merged with the Luo River — a small stream, famous for the white sandbanks and reeds along both its banks. Tens of thousands of pyeong of reeds, a magnificent sight in autumn.
The problem was those reeds.
Reeds don't grow only by the water's edge.
They swallowed the entire riverbank, then pushed on toward the official road, completely taking over its right side before spilling across to the left. Someone had once cut them back, but short of tearing out the roots, eradicating reeds was impossible. They had marched on for dozens of li. In summer, when the green reeds looked like a sea, people called this place the Reed Sea — Wihae.
"Finally, the Reed Sea."
Jin Yigang murmured.
"You know this place?"
Old Woman Yu asked.
"A little."
Jin Yigang replied.
"I'd like to slip inside the wagon for a moment and change clothes. Is that all right?"
Jin Yigang asked Je Hayeong.
"Clothes?"
"My grandmother packed me a set of silk garments."
"Why silk, of all things…"
"They say when the Mongol armies conquered the world, they wore silk in place of armor."
"Why?"
"Silk is tough. It might not withstand a truly powerful arrow, but ordinary arrows don't punch a hole through silk — the arrowhead just drives the fabric into the wound with it. Then the Mongols would pull the silk and draw the arrow right out."
"I see."
"I'll put it to use, then."
Jin Yigang went inside.
It was his first time entering the wagon. Several crates lay lined up crosswise within, each about five and a half ja long and a ja and a half wide. They looked like children's coffins.
Huh?
Jin Yigang's eyes went wide.
One of the crates at the far end had its lid slightly ajar. The loose lid must have been shaken open by the violent jolting.
If it's left like that, the medicine will spill out.
He walked along the edge toward the crate with the open lid.
What—!
He froze, hand halfway to the lid, and nearly yelped.
What was inside the crate wasn't medicine. It was a corpse. On the corpse's forehead was pasted a yellow paper inscribed with red writing — a talismanic spell, by the look of it.
Oh! A jiangshi!
A broad smile bloomed across Jin Yigang's face.