Chapter 8

On the way up Mount Wudang, a small pond and a pavilion stood at the mountain’s entrance.

Haegeomji and Haegeomgak.

If Wudang’s countless Taoist temples—including Purple Firmament Palace, which enshrined the Primordial Celestial Worthy—symbolized its faith,

then Haegeomji and Haegeomgak embodied the pride of Wudang in its days of glory.

Once, no visitor to Wudang had been allowed past that point on horseback or carrying weapons.

It was a sign of respect for Wudang, once the principal lineage among the Nine Great Sects.

But—

“Martial Uncle, what are you staring at?”

Cheongu, who was sharing his punishment, tilted his head at the sight of Jinmu lost in reminiscence.

You couldn’t possibly know.

The place Jinmu was looking at.

There was nothing there now.

Never mind a pavilion. It was a desolate clearing with only a pond left sitting forlornly in it.

No martial artists stood guard.

The dozens of wooden stands where horses had been tethered were nowhere to be seen, either.

Haaah. It used to be quite a sight. Look at it now.

Jinmu—or rather, Hyeokryeon Mugang—had made it that way.

The martial artists of the Myeong generation had formed a sword formation to bar his way when he came. He vividly recalled tearing every last one of their heads off with a bright smile, then ordering his men to demolish Haegeomgak.

At least the blood’s faded a little.

Haegeomji, once dyed red all over with Wudang’s blood, had indeed grown paler.

Lost in memories of the past(?), Jinmu suddenly spoke to Cheongu, who was watching him with wide, attentive eyes.

“But…”

Jinmu’s gaze swept over the woods behind Cheongu and the steps leading up the mountain.

“Just you?”

“Oh, yes!”

No, he wasn’t asking for a cheerful answer.

This couldn’t be right.

He had attended the morning assembly.

The assembly held every morning, where the first-generation disciples responsible for all the affairs of the Five Palaces and One Hall discussed the day’s work. When he attended, he had distinctly heard them promise to send people. With his own two ears.

So why had only this fellow turned up?

Since Jinheo’s injury, the disciples of Wonhwa Hall’s Cheong generation, including Cheongu, had been training at other palaces.

According to the announcement at the assembly, at least those disciples should have come.

What was this? Why on earth… Aha!

Jinmu tilted his head, then clapped his hands as realization struck.

Going over everything that had happened, he could more or less see what was going on.

To begin with, Jinmu had had little contact with the other first-generation disciples. He had scarcely left Chungheo Hermitage while tending to his master, so that was inevitable.

And while Jinmu had been an acolyte with no connections, most of the other first-generation disciples came from distinguished families.

In other words, they must have disliked a mere acolyte of such different origins holding the same standing as them.

Then he had modified a sword art and beaten down Jinheo of Wonhwa Hall. As though it weren’t enough for an insignificant nobody to accomplish something they couldn’t, he had proudly proved himself before the sect’s seniors and leaders.

On top of that, he had broken the Ten Precepts.

Yet the decision had been to make him repair the wooden stands at Haegeomji instead of sending him to the Punishment Cave.

Not only was the punishment practically a pardon by any measure, but the ban on eating meat had even been lifted temporarily.

Meaning—

“Oh, these sons of bitches!”

“Pardon?”

Cheongu looked startled when Jinmu abruptly broke out of his thoughts with a filthy curse.

“So you want to screw me over, do you?”

Utterly petty jealousy. That was the conclusion.

Nobody liked a new stone rolling in.

One already settled there might get knocked out of its place. Especially if the stone rolling in was a diamond—no, a night-shining pearl.

“Tsk, tsk. No wonder this place is going to ruin. All that crap about precepts, the fucking idiots. What good is following precepts when you can’t keep your underlings in line…?”

He could only click his tongue.

Taoist bastards never did stop being two-faced.

Sneakily, spitefully shunning a junior brother just because he was a little better than them…

These bastards were more unorthodox than the unorthodox faction.

“Now, what do I do with these little shits? Young brats learning nothing but bad habits…”

Jinmu’s brow furrowed deeply.

It had only been two days since he thrashed Jinheo.

The first time might earn him astonishment, but if he did it too often, he would fall out of favor.

“If I had my way, I’d just…”

For now, he had to hold back.

Only until he was about to become head disciple.

“All right. Just you wait. You little bastards dare challenge me to a contest of underhandedness? Heh heh heh.”

Seeing the sinister gleam in Jinmu’s eyes, Cheongu spoke cautiously.

“Martial Uncle, um… I really don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“Cheongu.”

“Yes?”

“Let’s go catch a wild boar and eat it.”

“…Pardon?”

Cheongu’s eyes went round as a startled rabbit’s.

The ban on meat might have been lifted, but it hadn’t been long since the sect leader and elders caught him licking a chicken leg bone at Chungheo Hermitage. His heart apparently still pounded at the memory.

“What?”

“What about repairing Haegeomji…?”

“You trust me, don’t you?”

“…Yes.”

“Let’s gooo.”

Repairing Haegeomji was only a pretext anyway.

Giving him a month was mostly a way of telling him to keep his head down. All he needed to do was plant a few hitching posts and be done with it.

---

The repairs at Haegeomji continued the next day, and the day after that.

But—

Today, Cheongu came down later than the day before, with someone trailing behind him.

“Hmm?”

Unlike Cheongu, this fellow was rather handsome and tall, with a fine build.

Someone who absolutely did not look as though he would be friends with the hopelessly dim, steadfast Cheongu!

“Who are you?”

“This is Senior Brother Cheongsang.”

Cheongu answered Jinmu’s question for him.

Right. Cheongsang. Cheong generation.

And yet he wasn’t greeting his martial uncle. What an ill-mannered little…

“Senior Brother Cheongsang was asking me all sorts of things, but I couldn’t explain them properly, so I brought him here.”

“Asking what?”

“Well, about the things you’ve taught me lately, Martial Uncle. I can do them with my body, but I just can’t put them into words…”

Cheongu grinned brightly and scratched the back of his head.

Yes, that figured.

How would he explain it in words?

Especially this idiot…

“Senior Brother Cheongsang has already reached the fifth level of the Flowing Cloud Sword!”

Oh?

The Flowing Cloud Sword was a fairly advanced sword art.

For someone of the Cheong generation to reach the fifth level meant his talent was far from ordinary.

Of course, compared with Jinmu, it was a drop in the ocean, a firefly before the full moon.

“Amazing, isn’t it? Of course, it’s nothing much by your standards, Martial Uncle, but he’s the best of our generation.”

Cheongu praised Cheongsang so enthusiastically that spittle flew, as if he were boasting about himself. Cheongsang looked a little smug.

Which meant he knew how good he was.

“But strangely, all he ever does is menial work.”

Hmm.

“The martial uncles hardly teach him anything. I think it must be because of Senior Brother Cheongsang’s background…”

“Cheongu!”

Cheongsang made a show of anger as he rebuked him, and Cheongu shut his mouth.

It was obvious enough.

Taking offense at talk of his background meant he was lowborn.

He had natural talent but no connections, so those Taoist bastards from fine families must be jealous of him.

For a sect going to ruin, these bastards were fucking picky.

In any case, this fellow, too… was being shunned.

Another nuisance to deal with.

What an idiot Cheongu was.

Of all the people he could have brought, it had to be someone like this.

As Jinmu sighed, a brilliant idea suddenly flashed through his mind.

Wait. Come to think of it, this could be fun, couldn’t it?

The ban on meat, one of the Ten Precepts, had been lifted.

That meant the traditions upheld by haughty Wudang were changing at their very foundations.

What if all Ten Precepts eventually collapsed?

Corruption.

Yes. Corruption.

In other words, becoming a little more worldly. And what if he lent a little help along the way?

Heh heh heh. The first step was the hardest. After that…

For now, it was only meat, but afterward they could accept anything.

Wine. Women.

A world where Taoist bastards, who had always put on dignified airs while indulging their vices in secret, openly drank with courtesans at their sides and reveled to their hearts’ content.

Just thinking about it put him in a good mood.

Ever since eating the herb of immortality and becoming Jinmu, he had wanted to become head disciple so he could learn the Two Principles Mind Art and regain his original martial arts.

And after that?

He hadn’t decided.

He had eaten the herb of immortality, so time was the one thing he had to spare.

Yes. Become head disciple and learn the Two Principles Mind Art.

Then install someone suitable as sect leader! Corrupt Wudang! And go on to corrupt the entire orthodox faction!

Heh heh. Heh heh heh heh.

An enormous flight of fancy spread its wings inside Jinmu’s head.

Wudang would become the unorthodox faction, and the Orthodox Martial Alliance would become Sapacheon.

He would fill the world with treachery and wickedness!

However he looked at it, the plan was brilliant.

Cheongu, you splendid boy.

You haven’t brought me some bothersome piece of trash. You’ve gone and multiplied yourself for your martial uncle’s amusement!

Jinmu couldn’t stop laughing inwardly.

Now, for the sake of this grand plan!

Cheongsang, I shall make you my second underling!

I’ll give you the chance to grow alongside Cheongu as a seed of corruption!

“Cheongu!”

“Yes, Martial Uncle! Shall I go catch a rabbit first, then?”

Ah, what was he to do with this idiot?

There was an order to luring someone in.

What was the fool thinking, starting off by openly breaking the Ten Precepts?

“A rabbit, Cheongu? What a thing to say out of the blue. We have to repair Haegeomji.”

“…”

Cheongu blinked his wide, innocent eyes.

“Move that stone over there.”

Following Jinmu’s pointing finger, Cheongu turned his head slightly, then whipped it back around.

“Th-that one?”

Jinmu nodded kindly.

“B-but, Martial Uncle. Isn’t that a bit much…? Besides, that’s a boulder, not a stone.”

“You can do it.”

“Well…”

“Cheongu.”

“Yes?”

“You trust me, don’t you?”

“…Yes.”

That’s right, you little shit. To lure someone in, you have to show them something.

Something beyond their wildest expectations. That was what worked.

Reluctantly, Cheongu approached the stone—no, the boulder—embedded in Haegeomji.

One hundred thirty-eight centimeters tall, sixty centimeters wide.

About the size of a nine-year-old child.

As for the weight… He’d find out when he lifted it. Depending on whether his back gave out or not.

“Grab it.”

“No matter how I look at it…”

Looking ready to cry, Cheongu nonetheless spread his arms wide and wrapped them around the boulder as instructed.

“Nnngh!”

He strained so hard that thick veins bulged like earthworms on his forehead, and the muscles of his forearms, visible beyond his robe’s sleeves, bunched tightly.

Jinmu glanced at Cheongsang.

He was smirking. He probably thought he’d wasted his time coming here.

No doubt he thought it was impossible.

A boulder that size could only be lifted by someone with extraordinary natural strength or at least thirty years’ worth of internal energy.

But—

Tap.

Jinmu lightly pressed behind Cheongu’s knee as he strained.

“Huh?”

Cheongu’s stance lowered.

A gentle push against his Life Gate Point straightened his back.

Tap.

Jinmu turned the tips of both his feet inward and brought his knees snug against the boulder.

“Nnngh!”

Cheongu’s face flushed red.

“…!”

A look of astonishment appeared on Cheongsang’s face. His wide eyes blinked.

Heh heh heh. There was a knack to everything.

“Hrrraaagh!”

Crack, cr-crack.

With Cheongu’s shout, the child-sized boulder slowly began to reveal its base.

And then—

Thoom!

The boulder came free of Haegeomji and crashed heavily to the ground.