The Extreme Yin Body-Switching Great Method
The day of the Great Method had been set for the Winter Solstice, a fortnight hence—for of all the days in the year, that was when yin energy ran strongest.
"The Great Method will be performed in the secret grotto of the Kongdong Sect. I shall see to the preparations myself. Until then, pour your strength into managing the balance of yin and yang within you."
Recalling Soga-yul's words, Cheongwol let out a deep sigh.
When he had first heard that a date had been set, he had nearly leapt for joy. But as the day drew nearer, he could no longer hide the anxiety gnawing at him.
Crunch.
Just as he was about to sigh once more under the weight of that restlessness, the sound of someone treading through the thick-fallen snow reached his ears.
"At this rate, I fear your sighing might cave the ground in."
"…Senior Brother Unhak."
The voice belonged to none other than Unhak.
"It's freezing out. Why are you standing outside?"
"The room felt too stifling."
"Is that so? You might have at least opened a window…"
Unhak smiled faintly as he regarded Cheongwol, who would not even glance his way.
He had already heard of Cheongwol's condition from the Sect Leader, so he felt no particular slight—only worry.
How could anyone endure harboring such fierce yin energy in a man's body?
Why the Sect Leader had taken Cheongwol as a disciple, and why Cheongwol continued to train through such terrible suffering—Unhak did not know.
But what did it matter if he did not know?
After two years spent side by side, Cheongwol was no longer a stranger to him.
"I heard from the Sect Leader. She said a date has been set for the Great Method?"
"…Yes."
"Then why the long face?"
"What's wrong with my face?"
"You look like a man forced into something he has no wish to do."
Unhak's words were more direct than usual, and Cheongwol flared up before he could stop himself.
"What would you know about—!"
But before the anger could fully leave his lips, Unhak looked at him with eyes calmer and steadier than Cheongwol had ever seen.
"You're right. I don't know."
"…"
"What bond you share with the Sect Leader that made her take you as her disciple, what martial art you cultivate while piling yin energy into your body, or why you must undergo the Great Method—I know none of it. But…"
As always, Unhak broke into that good-natured grin of his.
"How can I help but worry? Junior Cheongwol is family to our Kongdong Sect now—and to me, as good as a dear friend. Ah, though 'youngest junior brother' might be the better word."
At that, Cheongwol hung his head.
"…I'm sorry for being so unkind. Lately I've just been… something…"
His words trailed off, but Unhak only shook his head, as though he understood everything.
"Anyone grows raw before a matter of great importance. Even the most compassionate high monks of Shaolin would be no different."
"Even so…"
"It's all right. But if your heart truly troubles you, tell me. What is it that has you so restless?"
At Unhak's invitation to unburden himself, Cheongwol hesitated a moment, then carefully opened his mouth.
"…I'm afraid."
If the Great Method failed, what would become of him?
Had he truly been ready to undergo it?
Had he, in his impatience, rushed too soon?
The small doubts he turned upon himself spread like embers, and began to eat away at his heart.
Even if the Great Method succeeded—where was he supposed to begin the Im clan's vengeance?
…Was he truly meant to wander alone for the rest of his life, living only for revenge?
…No—even if he devoted his entire life to it, could it ever be finished…?
The more he fretted, the more repulsed he felt by himself. No one had ordered him to do this. He had sworn of his own will to live for the Im clan's revenge.
He had even used that vow as grounds to receive Soga-yul's secret martial arts—and now, at this late hour, he was wavering.
The dead of the Im household. His grandfather. And Soga-yul herself.
If they ever learned he harbored such thoughts, what faces would they make?
That possibility terrified Cheongwol beyond measure.
"I'm so afraid… of disappointing everyone…"
Tears were just beginning to gather at the corners of his eyes when Unhak stepped close and quietly patted his shoulder.
"No one will be disappointed."
"…"
"Whatever worries you carry, whatever you must do—Junior Cheongwol is not someone who disappoints others. And even if you did disappoint a few people, what of it?"
Unhak tipped his face toward the sky, where snow had begun to fall once more.
"They will not live your life in your place. Worry as much as you need. Rage. Weep. So long as you can keep moving forward, you ought to do all of that freely."
With words surprisingly befitting a true Daoist, Unhak soothed him—then drew a letter from his robes and held it out.
"…What is this?"
"A letter from Young Master Seomun Hwi."
At Unhak's words, Cheongwol stared down at the letter in his hands with startled eyes.
"Truth be told, by the Sect Leader's order, I have not been delivering the letters that arrived for you. Not that there were many—every last one came from Young Master Seomun Hwi."
"…Master did that?"
"Yes. I don't know the full reason myself, but she said it was for the sake of your training. Lately, though, your color has been so poor that I… quietly snuck one out."
Unhak scratched the back of his head with an awkward look.
"Hwi… Hwi never forgot me. I thought—I thought he had forgotten…"
Looking as though he might burst into tears at any moment, Cheongwol clutched the letter tight.
"He didn't forget…"
Though their time together had been brief, the meeting with Seomun Hwi was a memory more precious to Cheongwol than anything else.
And so he had waited and waited—yet contrary to the promise Hwi had made upon leaving, not a single letter had ever come.
How bitterly he had suffered that sense of betrayal; how deeply he had resented Seomun Hwi.
But now, knowing that Hwi had never forgotten him, Cheongwol found he could smile again.
"Does it please you so much?"
At Unhak's question, Cheongwol slowly nodded.
Then he held the letter at his fingertips a moment longer before handing it back.
"You're not even going to open it…?"
"You said Master ordered you not to deliver them. Then she must have had her reasons."
For a moment Cheongwol had been angry at the thought of Soga-yul deliberately hiding the letters—but he soon understood her intent.
If a single letter could set his heart reeling like this, then had he continued exchanging correspondence with Seomun Hwi, he never would have been able to devote himself fully to his training.
"Will you be all right?"
"Yes. I'll read them all at once after the Great Method. And… thank you, Senior Brother Unhak."
When Cheongwol offered his quiet thanks with a faint smile, Unhak's mouth curved up in a playful grin of his own.
"Have you finished with all the melancholy, then? Let's head inside. I can't stand this cold any longer."
"Melancholy? And I'm the Sect Leader's personal disciple—calling me the youngest junior brother is a bit much, don't you think? Strictly speaking, I'm not a junior at all, but…"
"…Oh, so that's how you're going to play it?"
Watching Unhak flounder the moment rank was brought up, Cheongwol laughed for the first time in a long while.
And on that day, when the snow falling from the heavens painted all of Mount Kongtong white as a vast winter plain—
Soga-yul and Cheongwol stepped into the secret grotto.
"The Great Method has no proper name of its own… but if one must be given, Extreme Yin Body-Switching Great Method seems fitting enough."
As she set candles one by one around the seated Cheongwol, Soga-yul coined the name of the Great Method on the spot.
"Are you nervous?"
"…Yes."
"I understand how you feel, but there is little cause for such worry. We have already reduced every scrap of yang energy that could be reduced. As the saying goes—do all that is humanly possible, then leave the rest to Heaven. The success or failure of the Great Method now rests with Heaven's will."
As if to put him at ease, Soga-yul spoke in a tone softer than was her wont.
"Moreover, Mount Kongtong has been called the foremost Daoist mountain under heaven since ancient times. Do you know why?"
"Because immortals once lived here? Or because it lies beneath the Northern Dipper?"
"How did you know that?"
"You've told me more than ten times already."
"…I suppose I truly am growing old. In any case, for that very reason, there is no place better suited to perform the Great Method than Mount Kongtong. If it fails here, it will succeed nowhere in the Central Plains."
At Soga-yul's words, Cheongwol gave a small nod.
"I believe. Not in Mount Kongtong—but in the effort I have poured into this, and in you, Master."
Soga-yul's hands stilled for a brief moment. Then she smiled and nodded.
"Good. Believe. If a disciple cannot trust his master, what else in this world can he rely upon?"
A short while later, Soga-yul lit the candles and spoke quietly.
"From this moment, the Extreme Yin Body-Switching Great Method begins."
The sacred mantra is spoken. The candles stir. The cold gathers.
As Soga-yul began to recite the mantra recorded in the secret manual in a low voice, the candle flames within the windless grotto began to waver.
At the same time, a freezing cold slowly gathered around Cheongwol's body.
Whoosh—!
As if to permit not even a trace of yang energy, a fierce wind rose from nowhere, swept through the grotto, and snuffed every flame at once.
Then, upon the candle wicks, blue fire kindled in place of red.
Blue flames rise. Freezing cold floods the grotto, stealing the breath from the lungs.
So far, so good. From here on is the true trial…
Watching the flickering blue flames, Soga-yul began to chant the mantra in a voice that rose steadily toward a cry.
The longer the mantra resounded, the stronger the cold pressing in around Cheongwol grew, until he could scarcely draw breath.
…I can't breathe…
At last, with his breathing slowed past endurance, Cheongwol's consciousness began to fade.
As proof of it, the Cheongwol who had been seated in the grotto performing the Great Method found himself standing upon a snowfield lashed by a raging blizzard.
A sky draped in black.
A knife-edged blizzard that tore at the flesh.
He knew all of it was illusion—yet he could not deny it.
For a woman of mysterious presence was looking down upon him: hair of silver that shone like snow catching sunlight, and eyes red as flame.
"I always knew it would come to this someday."
In a cold so bitter he could barely cling to consciousness, the woman bent at the waist with an expressionless face and met Cheongwol's gaze.
"Child. I shall lend my aid only this once."
Tap.
The moment her index finger lightly touched Cheongwol's brow, he was cast out of the snowfield as if sucked away.
And at last—
"Hah…"
An icy breath scattered into the empty air as Cheongwol, returned to reality, slowly opened his eyes.