Episode 88: The Mysterious Incident

Dang Mujin awoke in an unfamiliar room. It wasn’t lavish, but it was certainly spacious.

The bedding was simple yet meticulously crafted, and there was a faint, bitter scent of herbs lingering in the air.

But there was a more pressing issue at hand. Jin Song was sitting cross-legged, watching him intently.

Dang Mujin felt a pang of guilt. He had been avoiding Jin Song recently.

‘He’s not here to complain about the delay in making his sword, is he?’

When crafting a sword for Hwang Ryeongja, Dang Mujin had pretended to be busy for months, only to finish the sword in just a few days. The delay was intentional for two reasons: to avoid an overwhelming influx of work and to make the item feel more valuable through the wait.

Just like with Hwang Ryeongja’s sword, he had no intention of spending more time on Jin Song’s. A couple of days, maybe three, would suffice for the blade.

In any case, Jin Song had been waiting for nearly half a year. It was about time for him to get impatient.

Dang Mujin quickly thought of an excuse.

‘I’ll just say I haven’t found the right metal yet.’

But Jin Song wasn’t there to press him about the sword.

“Master Dang, you’re awake. Please wait a moment.”

Jin Song stood up and left the room, returning with a sizable group of people.

Most of them were familiar faces: Hwang Ryeongja, Namgung Myeong, Dan Seolyeong, his father, and Seok Jiseung, among others.

With all eyes on him, Dang Mujin felt uncomfortable, like a child caught misbehaving.

“What’s going on?”

He asked, and Hwang Ryeongja replied.

“What’s going on? Master Dang, do you not remember what happened last night?”

“Last night? There was a bit of a commotion outside my house.”

“No, after that.”

Dang Mujin racked his brain, but the memories were elusive.

“I’m not sure.”

“Hmm, is that so.”

At Hwang Ryeongja’s signal, six more people entered the room. Among them were Ban Yonggweol and Hu Wancheong, who had been waiting outside his house the previous night.

Five of them seemed their usual selves, just a bit tense in Hwang Ryeongja’s presence.

But Ban Yonggweol was visibly shaken. His legs trembled as he entered, and he kept his head down, avoiding eye contact with Dang Mujin.

After a moment of hesitation, Ban Yonggweol suddenly prostrated himself before Dang Mujin, ignoring the stares of everyone else.

“I’m sorry! Please, forgive me just this once!”

Considering how proud Ban Yonggweol usually was, his current posture was almost comically humble, especially with his gang watching.

Dang Mujin had thought about giving him a piece of his mind, but with so many onlookers, he had no choice but to accept the apology.

“Well… it’s fine. I wasn’t seriously hurt. But don’t let it happen again. If I hear you’ve done something like this to someone else, I won’t let it slide.”

Ban Yonggweol looked up, his expression a mix of relief and something akin to injustice.

Dang Mujin couldn’t quite grasp the situation.

Waking up in a strange room was one thing, but having so many people, including Hwang Ryeongja and a stranger next to Jin Song, gather just to see Ban Yonggweol apologize was odd.

“So, why is everyone gathered here?”

“Just wait a moment.”

Hwang Ryeongja gestured to Hu Wancheong, one of Ban Yonggweol’s group. With a reluctant expression, Hu Wancheong left the room, returning in a black outfit and mask.

Everyone stared at Dang Mujin, the atmosphere growing even more awkward.

‘What do they expect me to do?’

As the uncomfortable silence stretched on, Dang Mujin felt a chill run through his bones.

Hu Wancheong lay on the floor, trembling, as Hwang Ryeongja pinned Dang Mujin down with his knee.

“Uh… ugh!”

Hu Wancheong, terrified, tore off his mask with shaking hands.

Hwang Ryeongja sighed in relief. If he had reacted a moment later, Hu Wancheong might have been strangled.

When Hu Wancheong first entered wearing the mask, Dang Mujin had no reaction.

But suddenly, the atmosphere shifted, and Dang Mujin lunged at him.

The murderous intent Dang Mujin exuded was palpable and undeniable.

“What on earth is going on…?”

The most bewildered person in the room was Dang Jeseon, Dang Mujin’s father.

He had heard his son was practicing martial arts, but he never imagined he had become so formidable that even Hwang Ryeongja struggled to restrain him.

Nor did he expect his son to attempt murder so readily.

Namgung Myeong joked with Ban Yonggweol.

“Looks like you won’t be able to wear a mask anymore, Brother Ban. What a shame.”

Despite his intimidating appearance, Ban Yonggweol trembled, recalling the fear and pain from the previous night.

”…Last night, I wasn’t wearing a mask.”

“So, even without a mask, you’re not safe. Seems like you’ll have a hard time with your neighbor. But what can you do? You brought it on yourself.”

Namgung Myeong’s teasing darkened the faces of Ban Yonggweol’s group, including Hu Wancheong.

Ban Yonggweol bore no visible injuries, but the memory of the previous night haunted him, leaving him unable to recount the events clearly.

The only thing evident from Ban Yonggweol’s demeanor was the terror he must have felt.

The thought that Dang Mujin might suddenly appear and subject them to a similar ordeal left Ban Yonggweol’s group uneasy.

And there was one more person observing the situation closely.

The Taoist next to Hwang Ryeongja, Gong Ryeongja.

Gong Ryeongja, Hwang Ryeongja’s senior, usually resided at Cheongseong Mountain but often visited Seongdobunta to see him, as the distance wasn’t far.

Hwang Ryeongja asked Gong Ryeongja for his thoughts.

“What do you make of this situation?”

“Hmm.”

Gong Ryeongja approached the unconscious Dang Mujin, placing his palms on his back.

Inside Dang Mujin, he sensed several peculiarities.

First was the unusually high level of internal energy for someone his age.

Whatever elixir he had consumed, it was undoubtedly rare and potent.

Next was the dense poison residing in his dantian.

Having traveled with a mysterious figure, it was likely a poison pill crafted with their help.

Yet, there was no trace of demonic energy.

‘Strange.’

In the martial world, sudden outbursts of aggression were often attributed to “deviation” or “inner demons.”

Deviation typically occurred when demonic energy accumulated in the brain and marrow during the practice of demonic arts.

But Dang Mujin had no demonic energy. In fact, his internal energy was purer than that of most orthodox martial artists.

The poison didn’t seem to be the issue either. It was stable within his dantian, showing no signs of leaking.

“I can’t say for sure.”

“Do you know anyone at Cheongseong Mountain who might understand this?”

“Our head isn’t particularly knowledgeable in this area, and while Jeok Ryeongja knows a lot, he probably wouldn’t know about this.”

Perhaps the dark sects would know more. After all, deviation is their specialty.

But naturally, neither Hwang Ryeongja nor Gong Ryeongja had any close ties with the dark sects.

After a brief contemplation, Gong Ryeongja suggested.

“Why not seek help outside Cheongseong? There are other sects in Sichuan.”

“Are you suggesting we ask the Emei Sect for help?”

“Yes. They might know something.”

The Emei Sect is a Buddhist sect.

While not as strictly Buddhist as the Shaolin Temple, with some Taoist influence, its roots are still Buddhist.

The hallmark of Buddhist martial arts is their ability to dispel evil and uphold righteousness, known as “Pasa Hyeonjeong.”

Thanks to this quality, the martial arts of the Shaolin Temple and Emei Sect are particularly effective against demonic energy.

There are even cases where demonic practitioners, after battling high monks from these sects, regain their senses and join the Buddhist order.

Rather than Hwang Ryeongja and Gong Ryeongja racking their brains here, seeking help from the Emei Sect seemed wise.

Though it meant acknowledging Cheongseong’s limitations and asking for help, Hwang Ryeongja didn’t take it lightly.

But he remembered the debt he owed Dang Mujin and considered it ungrateful to prioritize pride in this situation.

Resolute, Hwang Ryeongja nodded.

“We should contact the Emei Sect immediately.”

Heading southwest from Seongdo, one would eventually see Mount Emei, its peaks wrapped in clouds.

Mount Emei had a unique feature.

Like other famous mountains, it boasted steep cliffs, but no matter how daunting the peaks seemed, there was always a path to climb them if one looked closely enough.

It’s not even a path made by human hands. These trails have existed since ancient times, never barring the way for wild animals or herbalists.

Whenever people see the myriad paths of Mount Emei, they think of the presence of immortals or the compassion of Buddha.

Surely, that’s why Mount Emei is considered one of the most revered mountains in the central plains.

Perhaps because of this, Mount Emei has a peculiar history.

Long ago, it was a renowned Taoist mountain, but at some point, it quietly became one of the four great Buddhist mountains.

As you wander through Mount Emei, you can see Taoist temples and Buddhist monasteries coexisting. There are even a few buildings whose identities are unclear—neither temple nor monastery, but something in between.

The Bokho Temple, the main temple of the Emei Sect on Mount Emei’s Geumjeong Peak, is one such place.

Originally built as a Taoist temple, Bokho Temple eventually became a Buddhist monastery.

And not just any monastery—it became one of the twin pillars of Buddhist martial arts. It’s a mystery how that came to be.

Tang Mujin, Namgung Myung, and Hwang Ryeongja entered Bokho Temple.

“Where are we headed?”

“We’re going to Geumjeong Pavilion. Follow me.”

Hwang Ryeongja strode confidently through the temple grounds, with Tang Mujin and Namgung Myung trailing behind. Namgung Myung looked around with curiosity.

Unlike the strictly male-only Shaolin Temple, Bokho Temple, the base of the Emei Sect, was not a male-exclusive space. While there were many nuns, male monks could also be seen here and there.

The nuns varied in appearance. Some had their heads completely shaved, while others sported short haircuts. It was a reflection of the Emei Sect’s complex identity.

Geumjeong Pavilion was a golden building situated at the edge of Bokho Temple.

Though not large, its vibrant color and the uniquely upward-curving eaves made it stand out.

As the three arrived at Geumjeong Pavilion, a nun in gray robes with a closely shaved head appeared.

Unlike the gentle-eyed nuns, she had a sharp and stern demeanor.

She slowly clasped her hands in greeting to Hwang Ryeongja.

“It’s been a while.”

“Hmm… Should I call you Myungryeon Satae now?”

“I’m still lacking, but yes, that’s what I’ve become.”

Myungryeon Satae smiled slightly, her expression full of pride.

To be called Satae in the Emei Sect, one must have reached the pinnacle of their practice.

Judging by the atmosphere, it seemed Myungryeon Satae had recently surpassed that pinnacle.

She turned to Tang Mujin and Namgung Myung.

“Which of you is the one afflicted by the inner demon?”

Tang Mujin raised his hand awkwardly. Myungryeon Satae nodded.

“We should start immediately, as we don’t know how long it will take.”

“Understood. I leave him in your capable hands. Tang, I hope to see you again soon.”

Tang Mujin offered a light bow of thanks to Hwang Ryeongja, who smiled warmly and turned to leave.

However, Namgung Myung did not follow. Myungryeon Satae asked him, “What brings you here, young man?”

“Oh, I’m his friend. I wanted to see how he overcomes the inner demon. May I stay?”

Myungryeon Satae nodded reluctantly.

“There’s no harm in it. Follow me.”

She led Tang Mujin and Namgung Myung, not into the building, but down a staircase beside it.

The stairs descended underground, where the walls were made of large, stacked stones.

”…This place has an odd atmosphere,” Tang Mujin remarked.

Namgung Myung added, “Forgive me, but it feels like a prison.”

Myungryeon Satae did not deny it.

“That’s correct. It was originally built to confine criminals. But as time passed and the Emei Sect stopped holding prisoners, it became a place to treat those afflicted by inner demons.”

Tang Mujin nodded unconsciously.

A prison strong enough to prevent escape was also a suitable place for someone in the throes of an inner demon to safely unleash their turmoil.

“This way, please.”

Myungryeon Satae led Tang Mujin to the innermost room of the underground area. The sturdy iron bars were particularly noticeable.

But more concerning than their strength was the fact that there was no one else receiving treatment in the entire underground area.

“Please, step inside.”

As Tang Mujin entered the innermost room, Myungryeon Satae locked the door.

The metallic clink echoed through the underground.

Tang Mujin spoke with a relaxed demeanor.

“Seeing that I’m the only one receiving treatment here, it must be quite effective.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Doesn’t it mean that others recovered quickly and left this place?”

Myungryeon Satae shrugged.

“That’s not the case.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s just been a long time since we’ve had a visitor. It’s rare for someone afflicted by an inner demon to come to the Emei Sect…”

Those possessed by inner demons rarely acknowledge their condition, so they have little reason to seek out the Emei Sect.

Moreover, it’s uncommon for someone to kindly bring a person afflicted by an inner demon to the sect. Usually, when encountering such a person, the situation ends with one side perishing.

Tang Mujin’s case was exceptionally unusual.

“How exactly does the treatment work?”

“I’ll teach you the Cheongsang Fist, known for its ability to expel evil energy. You must train until you overcome the inner demon.”

The phrase “known for its ability to expel evil energy” made Tang Mujin uneasy. It sounded as if no one had ever been cured of an inner demon through training in the Cheongsang Fist.

Myungryeon Satae continued in a gentle tone.

“Meals will be provided twice a day, and you’ll be allowed to meet outsiders once every five days.”

”…How long will it take before I can leave?”

“There’s no set time. You can’t leave until you’ve overcome the inner demon, so there’s no need to worry about it.”

“Pardon?”

As Tang Mujin instinctively grasped the iron bars, Myungryeon Satae spoke as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“We can’t release someone who hasn’t overcome their inner demon into the world, can we?”