The next day, the monks gathered at the Hall of Longevity.
Despite being an impromptu meeting called just the day before, the turnout was far greater than that of a regular assembly. Naturally, Tang Mujin and Gwiui were present as well.
“Since it seems everyone is here, let’s begin. The agenda is the matter of Tang Shiju’s violation of the third precept of the Great Three Realms. It would be ideal if Tang Shiju could disclose from whom he learned martial arts, but that seems unlikely.”
The first name that came to mind was Dan Seol-young, or perhaps the Dan family.
However, Tang Mujin had no intention of mentioning the Dan family. The Precept Master would not be swayed by such information and would likely argue that Dan Seol-young should be punished as well for breaking the precepts.
All eyes turned to Tang Mujin. He spoke up.
“I don’t understand this situation. Do you really believe I repaired the Wooden Man Alley with the intent to steal Shaolin’s martial arts?”
“That’s not the case.”
“And yet you think I should be punished?”
“Because that’s the rule.”
Even though he expected this response, Tang Mujin was still taken aback. He addressed the Precept Master and the assembled monks.
“From my experience repairing the Wooden Man Alley, anyone who does so inevitably learns the White Lotus Divine Fist and the Shadowless Step. If mastering these arts is a problem, then Shaolin has been dangling a sweet bait for three hundred years, waiting for someone to punish.”
Tang Mujin’s words could be interpreted as a sweeping criticism of the entire Shaolin Temple.
Yet, no one spoke against him. Most of those present were there to support Tang Mujin.
The Precept Master responded.
“Claiming that repairing the Wooden Man Alley inevitably leads to mastering the White Lotus Divine Fist and the Shadowless Step is an exaggeration. If you had no knowledge of martial arts, could you have learned them? I doubt it.”
A murmur of dissent against the Precept Master could be heard, but he continued undeterred.
“Even if you repaired the Wooden Man Alley, there would have been no issue if you hadn’t learned those arts. If you weren’t confident, you could have joined Shaolin and repaired it then. Or, if that was too difficult, you could have simply hidden the fact that you learned the White Lotus Divine Fist and the Shadowless Step. But you avoided all three options.”
“Are you suggesting I join Shaolin now?”
Tang Mujin asked, and the Precept Master shook his head.
“It’s too late. The fact remains that you learned martial arts without a master.”
“Learned without a master? That’s an interesting way to put it, Precept Master.”
Gwiui, who had been silent until now, seized on the Precept Master’s words. As always, he spoke with a casual air.
“Let’s consider what it means to steal. Precept Master, if you were a beggar without a single coin, could a thief steal money from your pocket?”
“Of course not.”
“If you were so poor you didn’t have a grain of barley for breakfast, could a thief steal your meal and eat to their fill?”
“Impossible.”
“Exactly. You can’t steal what doesn’t exist. From what I saw at the Wooden Man Alley yesterday, not a soul knew the names of the White Lotus Divine Fist or the Shadowless Step, let alone their techniques. How can one steal from Shaolin what Shaolin doesn’t possess?”
Gwiui stood up, his posture commanding attention as he walked slowly. There was something about his confident demeanor that drew everyone’s gaze.
“We need to think differently. Restoring martial arts that no one knows, that aren’t even recorded, isn’t much different from creating new ones. There might be differences, but in the end, they’re quite similar.”
“Even if the results are similar, the key issue is that the Wooden Man Alley, which holds those arts, is Shaolin’s legacy.”
“That doesn’t change anything. If Tang Mujin hadn’t come here, that precious Wooden Man Alley would have been nothing more than a flat training ground by now.”
Amidst the assembly of elite martial artists, Gwiui boldly mocked the Shaolin monks.
“Set aside Shaolin’s pride and think about it. Did Tang Mujin steal martial arts you couldn’t master, or are you trying to learn the arts he presented to you? Has anyone even considered bowing to him as a master?”
“Gwiui, that’s going too far.”
“Yes, it’s excessive. Precept Master, your words and mine have both crossed the line. Just as Tang Mujin didn’t demand you bow to him, you shouldn’t impose the precepts on him.”
Gwiui’s argument danced between sophistry and logic. For monks who had dedicated their lives to martial arts, dissecting and refuting his points was no easy task.
In fact, most of the Shaolin monks had no intention of countering Gwiui’s claims.
They found the situation of debating the punishment of a benefactor more disgraceful than Gwiui’s mockery.
As the verbal sparring reached a lull, the monks fell into their own thoughts.
After a moment, a senior monk spoke up.
“It seems we’ve covered everything. Now, if anyone believes Tang Shiju should be punished, raise your hand.”
The Precept Master raised his hand confidently. A few others hesitated, fidgeting with their hands, but ultimately, only the Precept Master raised his hand.
“Now, if you believe Tang Shiju should not be punished, raise your hand.”
A multitude of hands went up.
There were a few who abstained from voting, but they were in the minority. A single night was too short to shake off the awe inspired by the Wooden Man Alley.
“The decision is made. Regarding Tang Shiju’s violation of the precepts and his mastery of the White Lotus Divine Fist and the Shadowless Step, let us speak no more of it.”
The monks nodded in agreement with the senior monk’s words.
Tang Mujin let out a sigh of relief and looked at the Precept Master.
Despite his earlier insistence on punishment, the Precept Master’s expression showed no signs of defeat, regret, or anger. He remained as composed as ever, like a wooden statue.
It seemed he had anticipated his argument would not be accepted, and that he would lose the debate and face criticism.
However, Tang Mujin’s thoughts were interrupted when the senior monk addressed him.
“There’s one more thing to ask Tang Shiju.”
“Yes?”
“In return for repairing the Wooden Man Alley, what do you wish for?”
Caught up in the repairs, Tang Mujin had almost forgotten about compensation.
In hindsight, he might have considered the mastery of the Shadowless Step and the White Lotus Divine Fist as his reward. After all, learning two advanced martial arts in such a short time was certainly a profitable venture.
But aside from that, he had a specific request in mind from the start.
“I would like the Great Elixir.”
A legendary elixir, said to be the best under heaven.
Crafted from rare ingredients and painstakingly prepared over a long period.
Even among the abbots of Shaolin, few had ever taken the Great Elixir.
However, Tang Mujin wasn’t sure if he would actually receive it. Although the senior monk had said he could have anything except the Jade Fire Palm, it was hard to tell if he was serious.
Gwiui had also mentioned that the Great Elixir was an excessive request and likely to be denied.
Yet Tang Mujin asked for it based on Gwiui’s advice.
The idea was to propose something big, get rejected, and then ask for something smaller, which would have a higher chance of being accepted. Naturally, he had a backup request ready.
‘A lesser elixir, some herbs, and any spare minerals if possible.’
But Tang Mujin and Gwiui’s plan went awry.
For one reason: the senior monk was more straightforward than expected.
“I’ll come by this evening, so wait at the guest hall.”
“What?”
“You need to take the Great Elixir, don’t you? I can give it to you, but I can’t allow it to fall into the wrong hands.”
Tang Mujin looked at the senior monk with a puzzled expression. Was he really going to give him the Great Elixir? To someone who wasn’t even a top-tier martial artist?
But the senior monk’s expression was serious. It didn’t seem like a joke.
Tang Mujin glanced around, bewildered. The reactions of the other monks were not much different from the senior monk’s.
Dozens of eyes seemed to tell Tang Mujin:
‘You are worthy of the Great Elixir. If not you, then who else could receive it?’
Even the Precept Master looked at Tang Mujin as if it were only natural.
Tang Mujin’s heart swelled with emotion.
More than the Great Elixir itself, he was overjoyed that people recognized his abilities and efforts.
With a slightly trembling voice, he replied.
”…Understood.”
That was the last item on the agenda. As the meeting concluded, Tang Mujin rose and headed to the guest hall.
The Precept Master watched Tang Mujin’s retreating figure before leaving the room.
That evening, as Tang Mujin lay in the guest hall, he heard footsteps approaching.
It was undoubtedly the senior monk. Tang Mujin sprang up, looking towards the door.
“I’m coming in.”
The senior monk announced, opening the door and stepping inside.
He must have known Tang Mujin and Gwiui were waiting beyond the door.
In his hand was a wooden box wrapped in silk, and inside the box was a large, white pill.
True to its name, the Great Elixir was sizable, almost daunting in its size.
The expression on Gwi-ui’s face was filled with curiosity. It was only natural, considering it was his first time seeing the Great Elixir.
Dang Mujin took a whiff of the elixir, hoping against hope that he might discern its ingredients.
But identifying the components by scent alone was impossible. The elixir likely contained more mystical ingredients than traditional herbal medicine.
He wanted to examine it slowly, but the weight of Shinsung’s gaze was too much to bear.
”…Do I just eat it?”
“I’ve never taken the Great Elixir myself, but that’s what I’ve heard.”
Unlike Gwi-ui, who was brimming with curiosity, Shinsung’s voice carried a hint of envy. What must it feel like to offer the Great Elixir, something he had kept close all his life but never consumed, to the young Dang Mujin?
Dang Mujin sat cross-legged, took a deep breath, and placed the elixir in his mouth.
He was tense, recalling the intense experiences of consuming black peony and the venom sac of the Seven Treasures Snake.
Yet, the Great Elixir barely touched his tongue before it vanished, leaving only a fleeting coolness.
‘What is this?’
In the next instant, a peculiar aroma blossomed in his mouth—a refreshing, mint-like scent.
The scent quickly filled his mouth and effortlessly slid down his throat. He didn’t even need to swallow.
Then, an explosive energy surged in his stomach.
His internal energy expanded far beyond what he had experienced with the black peony.
Despite this, the pressure he felt now was even greater than before. The energy contained within the Great Elixir was beyond imagination.
However, there was a crucial difference between the black peony and the Great Elixir.
‘There’s no pain at all.’
The elixir seemed to know exactly where to go, moving on its own toward his dantian.
But the energy it held was too vast for Dang Mujin to absorb. The internal energy filled his dantian to the brim, then began to disperse.
‘No, this can’t happen.’
Dispersed energy wouldn’t stay put. Just as one could gather energy through breathing, it could also escape the same way. In this precarious situation, he felt the touch of two palms on his back. It was Shinsung.
“Don’t resist the flow. Move the energy slowly.”
Shinsung’s internal energy flowed through his back, dividing the elixir’s energy into two streams.
The first stream was drawn out, forming a long column from the perineum to the chin.
The second stream extended from the base of the spine to the upper gums, creating another column.
These two streams formed a circular loop around his body. Dang Mujin recognized the pathways as the Ren and Du meridians.
“The Ren and Du meridians form the pillars of the body, so the elixir’s energy won’t easily escape. When you reach the pinnacle of your training, it will be easier to connect these meridians.”
Dang Mujin completed a brief circulation of energy and opened his eyes. Gwi-ui and Shinsung were still there, watching him.
He felt a surge of power. It was as if he had skipped a level and become a master, though he knew that couldn’t be true.
He executed a technique toward the air, feeling the sensation of slicing through it with his fingertips.
Though he performed the same technique as before, his movements and precision were incomparable to his previous attempts.
Gwi-ui grumbled as he watched.
“You’re probably the only one who took the Great Elixir without even reaching the pinnacle.”
“It’s all thanks to my abilities. Honestly, I’m surprised it ended so quickly. I thought I’d be meditating for days.”
“Of course. Unlike natural substances like black peony or the venom sac, the Great Elixir is crafted solely to enhance the user’s internal energy. It’s bound to be easier to absorb.”
Shinsung, who had been standing behind Dang Mujin, rose and spoke.
“Mr. Dang, it’s best not to sleep tonight and continue your practice. The elixir’s energy won’t dissipate easily, but today is the best time to absorb it.”
“Understood.”
“I hope you achieve great success.”
With that, Shinsung left the room. A faint trace of unshaken envy lingered in his departing figure.