Boundaries and Limits
Since the battle at Mount Wudang, everyone knew how tirelessly Tang Mujin had worked to care for the wounded. Now, the remaining patients’ recovery depended not on Tang Mujin’s medical skills but on their own willpower and the passage of time.
This finally gave Tang Mujin some much-needed respite—a chance to delve into deep meditation without interruption.
The theme of his meditation was simple: “Poison.”
Though the topic seemed straightforward, it offered endless avenues for contemplation.
Stronger poisons. Poisons that could be used in more versatile ways. Poisons that could overcome their own weaknesses. Poisons made from common, inexpensive materials yet difficult to detect or counteract. Poisons combined with martial arts. Poisons paired with incantations. Plant-based poisons, animal-based poisons, mineral-based poisons. Living poisons from venomous creatures. Poisons that the Tang family could easily handle.
It might seem odd to ponder ways to kill more effectively after having worked so hard to save lives. But Tang Mujin didn’t find this strange at all.
A medicine that relaxes the body can become a poison if overused. Conversely, a poison that makes the heart race to the point of bursting can, in the right dose, become a miraculous cure for a dying body.
The line between medicine and poison is merely a matter of dosage. Use the right amount, and it’s medicine; use too much, and it’s poison. Thus, the study of poison is closely linked to the practice of medicine. With such a blurred boundary between poison and medicine, Tang Mujin had long stopped distinguishing between the two.
Now, his focus was on the seamless connection between poison and medicine.
“The boundary between poison and medicine.”
He wasn’t talking about something that was neither poison nor medicine. Rather, he envisioned something that was clearly both—a poison that was also a medicine.
“The clues were there all along. Why didn’t I see it before?”
What was even more intriguing was that the poison Tang Mujin was now conceptualizing wasn’t meant to kill others.
Recently, Tang Mujin felt he had reached the limits of his healing techniques. Just as he had once felt the limitations of his martial arts, he now sensed the boundaries of his healing skills.
Even if he pushed himself further, he might only improve marginally. But he had come to realize that the number of techniques wasn’t as important as he once thought. After a period of reflection, this realization became a certainty.
Paradoxically, Tang Mujin saw new possibilities for his healing techniques through poison.
This wasn’t just poison, nor was it merely a healing technique. It was a new frontier at the intersection of poison and healing, a fascinating idea that captivated Tang Mujin.
“What brought you to the Shaolin Temple again?” “Yeah, you shouldn’t have gone…”
The conversation took a confusing turn, and Tang Mujin frowned.
“What are you talking about…”
At that moment, Namgung Myung interrupted.
“Hong Geolgae is dead.” ”…What nonsense is this?”
Tang Mujin thought Namgung Myung was trying to change the subject with a ridiculous story after being caught slacking off. But something about Namgung Myung’s appearance seemed off.
His clothes were unusually disheveled, and his prosthetic left arm was missing from above the elbow. More ominously, his right hand held a blood-stained token belonging to Hong Geolgae.
No way. That can’t be true. Tang Mujin asked again, hoping it was a joke.
“You’re kidding, right?”
He was no longer concerned about Namgung Myung’s tardiness. If it was such an elaborate prank, he was willing to be fooled once.
But the response he expected didn’t come. Instead, Namgung Myung’s voice grew even more somber.
“Dozens witnessed Hong Geolgae’s death. Even the elders confirmed it.”
“Namgung Myung. Is it all true?” “Yes.”
Hyeon Gong swung his fist at Namgung Myung without hesitation. Namgung Myung didn’t dodge and fell to the ground, his lip split and bleeding. Yet he didn’t protest.
Instead, he sat back up and spoke in a voice full of self-reproach.
“I know. I shouldn’t have said that to Hong Geolgae. I should have told him to stay put in the main hall, not to worry about the affairs of the sect. But I was too focused on the leader, thinking I had a more dangerous role than Hong Geolgae, and underestimated the risk he faced.”
Namgung Myung lowered his head, covering his face with his right hand.
“I knew Hong Geolgae would struggle against the enemy. But I thought he’d be cautious and not overextend himself. He’s not the type to do that, so why did I think he would…”
Namgung Myung glanced at Tang Mujin. If Tang Mujin had reacted like Hyeon Gong, it might have been easier to bear, but Tang Mujin showed no such intention.
Instead, Tang Mujin let out a deep sigh.
Sigh
Namgung Myung flinched. The sigh of a friend who had lost his oldest companion hurt more than Hyeon Gong’s punch.
It felt like his heart was sinking. But Tang Mujin was no longer a naive twenty-year-old. He set aside his emotions for a moment to discuss what needed to be done.
“We need to arrange Hong Geolgae’s funeral.” “The elders said they would handle it.” “Even so, we can’t just stand by while a friend departs like that. And we need to consider the feelings of the Beggars’ Sect.”
As Tang Mujin and Hyeon Gong were about to respond, Namgung Myung spoke up.
“After the revenge. Just know that it won’t take long.”
Namgung Myung’s eyes burned with anger. It was a look that made words unnecessary, and the members of the Beggars’ Sect nodded and left. By the next morning, everyone on Mount Wudang would know of Hong Geolgae’s death.
Now, only the three of them remained. Namgung Myung’s last statement needed clarification. They expected revenge, but for it to not take long? It seemed like he had a plan.
Tang Mujin asked, “Namgung Myung, how do you plan to take revenge? Are we going to storm their stronghold together?”
It was the most straightforward idea. But even as he suggested it, Tang Mujin felt uneasy about the plan, though he couldn’t pinpoint why.
Namgung Myung shook his head.
“No.” “Then, what’s your plan?”
Namgung Myung hesitated before answering.
“I know I’m not in a position to ask for favors. But I don’t want to leave Hong Geolgae’s revenge to others. Ideally, I’d do it alone, but that’s not realistic. If the three of us—me, you, and Hyeon Gong—could do it together, that would be best.”
Only then did Tang Mujin realize why the idea of storming the stronghold didn’t sit well with him. Namgung Myung was right. How could they leave Hong Geolgae’s revenge in the hands of others? But Tang Mujin replied cautiously.
”…The odds seem too low.”
Yet there was an implicit agreement in Tang Mujin’s tone. Namgung Myung responded with a slightly brighter voice.
“It’ll be possible. The leader and the great tiger won’t be in the stronghold.”
“What’s your basis for that?”
“The leader is severely injured. He needs at least a few months to recover. And a leader never shows weakness in front of their subordinates.”
Tang Mujin and Hyeon Gong understood Namgung Myung’s reasoning. They, too, were leaders of their respective groups. Hyeon Gong never showed weakness in front of the disciples of the Nameless Sect, Namgung Myung in front of the warriors of the Namgung family, and Tang Mujin in front of the Tang family. No one taught them this; it was simply how things were. The leader would be no exception.
“Besides, if they return to the stronghold, a fight is inevitable. The leader will want to avoid conflict for now, find a hideout, and recover. The great tiger will likely stay by his side.”
“But if the Fire Dragon Token is there, doesn’t that mean at least the Fire Dragon Sect will return to the stronghold?”
“Yes. Someone needs to lead the cult’s warriors in the leader’s and the great tiger’s absence. The left tiger will have to return to the stronghold.”
Hyeon Gong nodded, agreeing with Namgung Myung’s assessment.
“It makes sense.”
However, Hyeon Gong’s agreement wasn’t complete.
Even without the leader and the great tiger, the stronghold’s remaining forces were significant. Could the absence of two really make a difference?
Could the three of them face such overwhelming numbers?
“Logically speaking, it’s nearly impossible.”
Facing ten people at once is far more challenging than defeating ten people one by one. And the number they had to face was far more than just ten.
Yet Hyeon Gong saw a glimmer of possibility. If someone existed outside the bounds of common sense, couldn’t they achieve results beyond those limits?
A martial artist’s limits are the limits of their weapon and their ultimate potential. A sword strikes those who come close. A spear pierces from a distance. A martial artist trained in hand-to-hand combat strikes, kicks, and breaks those even closer.
But there was one unbreakable rule for all weapons: they could only attack one person at a time. A sword cuts one person. A spear pierces one person. A single fist strikes one person.
Yet, there was one person in the martial world who stood outside this rule. Someone skilled in battles involving many against many, or one against many. The only one who had created and mastered a bizarre martial art designed for mass combat.
Hyun-gong looked at Dang Moo-jin intently.
“Do you think it’s possible?”
Dang Moo-jin didn’t answer directly. Instead, he turned to Namgung Myung.
“Namgung Myung, what if the cult leader and the chief enforcer are in Suju?”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll verify it myself.”
Namgung Myung nodded in acknowledgment.
“Thank you.”
He hadn’t expected Dang Moo-jin or Hyun-gong to refuse. Dang Moo-jin had no intention of declining, nor did he think he should. After all, this was about avenging the Honggeol Clan.
Dang Moo-jin finally spoke.
”…Alright. Let’s do it.”
This wasn’t mere bravado. Dang Moo-jin saw a glimmer of possibility. If given just a little more time, he believed he could seize the opportunity and take a crucial step forward.
However, he wasn’t willing to take excessive risks for the sake of revenge. He wasn’t reckless; when lives were at stake, caution was paramount. Engaging in a dangerous fight that could lead to more casualties would only exacerbate the situation.
So, he added a condition.
“But we won’t go alone. We’ll bring along those who have recovered, like Elder Hwayeon or Elder Hyulwoo.”
Namgung Myung reacted immediately, “But leaving revenge in someone else’s hands—”
Dang Moo-jin shook his head.
“That’s not what I mean. Even if we start the fight ourselves, we need to ensure everything is handled thoroughly. The goal isn’t a fierce battle; it’s about certain revenge and justice.”
Namgung Myung finally understood what Dang Moo-jin was getting at. He wanted to have a safety net in place.
Hyun-gong then asked Dang Moo-jin, “So, when do we set out?”
Dang Moo-jin fell silent, lost in thought for a moment. Then he replied, albeit a bit slowly.
“In ten days.”