Episode 89: The Lotus Crisis

“Hup!”

In the dim, silent underground of Geumjeong Pavilion, Dang Mujin extended his arm. It was a move from the Cheongsang Fist technique.

According to Myeongryeon Satae, Cheongsang Fist was a martial art commonly taught to secular disciples of the Amipa sect.

But calling it a martial art seemed a bit of a stretch.

It was more about open-hand techniques, knife-hand strikes, and palm techniques than actual fist strikes.

The problem was that Cheongsang Fist was composed of overly simple and straightforward moves. There were no complex or intricate techniques, no special secrets hidden within.

Yet, Dang Mujin practiced Cheongsang Fist diligently. He had nothing else to do, and he didn’t know any other way to dispel the inner demons plaguing him.

Perhaps because it was a Buddhist martial art, practicing it sometimes reminded him of the White Lotus Divine Fist or the Shadowless Step. It seemed to carry the essence of purifying evil, a trait of Shaolin martial arts.

A thought suddenly crossed his mind.

‘Wouldn’t it be better to practice the White Lotus Divine Fist instead of Cheongsang Fist?’

It was a compelling idea. The White Lotus Divine Fist was an advanced martial art, while Cheongsang Fist was for beginners. The purifying essence might be stronger in the White Lotus Divine Fist.

But he wasn’t sure. So, Dang Mujin continued to practice Cheongsang Fist in silence.

After more than ten days of training, Dang Mujin felt something strange. Just once, he experienced a sensation as if his hand strike was faster and sharper than ever before.

‘Huh?’

The feeling passed in an instant, but Dang Mujin recognized it.

It was the same feeling he had when he first grasped the essence of the “Point” technique and extended his sword.

Why did he feel this familiar sensation with an unfamiliar hand strike?

The answer was simple. If the “Point” was a thrust with a sword, the hand strike was a thrust with the fingertips.

The essence of both techniques was connected.

Dang Mujin tried the hand strike again. The same sensation didn’t return.

But he wasn’t impatient. Just as he had mastered the “Point,” he knew the feeling would return someday.

Three days later, he executed the hand strike a second time, and the next day, a third. After another week, he was satisfied with all his hand strikes.

Only then did Dang Mujin realize.

He had been so focused on mastering complex and powerful techniques.

Was the mysterious figure stronger because he could perform extraordinary techniques?

No. The figure always used the same sword technique, and his hand techniques were mostly basic.

Yet, even when performing the same techniques, the figure’s moves were always faster and more powerful.

The only technique Dang Mujin could claim to have matched the figure in was the “Point.”

The sophistication of a martial art is important.

But more crucial is whether one can fully realize the potential of even the simplest technique.

He remembered his father’s words.

“More ailments can be treated with common plantain or licorice than with expensive and rare agarwood or rhinoceros horn. If you know how to use all medicinal ingredients appropriately, there’s no need to rely on rare ones.”

His father knew nothing about martial arts, and his advice was purely about medicine.

But just as the “Point” and the hand strike were connected, there was a principle linking medicine and martial arts.

‘Let’s refine the simplest techniques again.’

In the dark underground of Geumjeong Pavilion, Dang Mujin immersed himself once more in Cheongsang Fist.

Dan Seolyeong and Namgung Myeong grew increasingly uneasy watching Dang Mujin.

When they first visited him every five days, Dang Mujin was full of complaints about his underground life. He was bored to death and uncertain when he could leave.

But at some point, he became more relaxed, acting as if he had no complaints at all. It was almost as if he had taken some strange medicine.

Dan Seolyeong asked, “How’s it going? Do you feel like you’re overcoming the inner demons?”

“I don’t know. It’s hard to tell.”

“You’ve been practicing Cheongsang Fist diligently, right? Do you feel any different?”

“I know Cheongsang Fist has the property of dispelling demonic energy, but I don’t feel any demonic energy being pushed out.”

”…So, what are you going to do now?”

Dang Mujin pondered.

There were no meat dishes, but meals were served on time, and no one bothered him.

He didn’t have to work, and martial arts training was enjoyable. Occasionally, when he got bored, Namgung Myeong and Dan Seolyeong would visit him, so he was fairly content for now.

“Well, I plan to train leisurely for a while. If I master Cheongsang Fist or the White Lotus Divine Fist, maybe I’ll overcome the inner demons.”

“Are you sure?”

”…I don’t know. But Myeongryeon Satae wouldn’t have locked me up without a reason.”

Dan Seolyeong reached through the bars to touch Dang Mujin’s hand. She felt a sense of melancholy about her situation.

It was like becoming a widow before even getting married.

Most women might have been tearful in such a situation.

But Dan Seolyeong wasn’t one to give up easily. In dire situations, she preferred to think and find a solution rather than sit and cry.

She held Dang Mujin’s hand tightly and said, “Just wait a little longer. I’ll get you out.”

Five days later, Dan Seolyeong appeared at Amipa with Namgung Myeong and Hwang Ryeongja.

No matter how bold Dan Seolyeong was, she couldn’t raise her voice alone at Amipa.

She shouted at Myeongryeon Satae, “Give me back my husband! He’s not getting any better, so how can you keep him locked up indefinitely?”

”…I heard you haven’t had a wedding ceremony yet.”

“We may not have had a ceremony, but we’re practically married! Do you think I came all the way from Hanam to Sichuan without any assurance?”

Hwang Ryeongja hesitantly added, “We’ll take care of Dang So-hyeop at Cheongseong Sect. Could you release him?”

In truth, Hwang Ryeongja was in a difficult position.

He had brought Dang Mujin to Amipa as a favor, but it felt like he had delivered a criminal instead.

Fortunately, Dang Mujin hadn’t complained yet, but there was no guarantee he wouldn’t in the future.

However, Myeongryeon Satae firmly refused.

“Once possessed by demons, one may enter Amipa, but they cannot leave.”

“What do you mean? Elder Hwang said there was no demonic energy in Mujin’s body!”

Myeongryeon Satae didn’t even flinch.

“Would someone without demonic energy fall into inner demons? It’s just deeply hidden, making it even more dangerous.”

Dan Seolyeong exclaimed in disbelief, “If there’s demonic energy, you can’t release him because of it. If there’s none, you can’t release him because it’s hidden. What are we supposed to do?”

“You must expel the demonic energy and free him from the inner demons.”

“That Cheongsang Fist or whatever, it’s not working at all!”

Hwang Ryeongja corrected her, “Dan Sojeo, it’s Cheongsang Fist, not Cheongseong Fist.”

“Whatever!”

Myeongryeon Satae remained unyielding.

“If he hadn’t set foot in Amipa, it might be different, but we cannot allow someone connected to Amipa to leave and cause trouble.”

“Myeongryeon Satae, please consider my position. Dang So-hyeop has many responsibilities.”

Hwang Ryeongja pleaded again. Though he held a higher status in the martial world, the decision lay with Myeongryeon Satae.

Dang Mujin had too many roles to play to let this slide.

Rumors had spread, and blacksmiths loitered around the Seokga Forge with long faces, casting disapproving glances at Jin Song and Hwang Ryeongja.

Dang Jeseon was also worried, fearing greater misfortune might befall his son.

Jin Song was another issue. While Hwang Ryeongja had at least received a sword, Jin Song was anxious about not receiving one.

“No.”

Myeongryeon Satae shook her head.

She wasn’t acting out of malice.

Since the time of the previous Geumjeong Pavilion master, Dang Mujin was the only one to enter the underground due to inner demons.

To make matters worse, the previous master had died unexpectedly without passing on any knowledge, so no one knew the exact method to dispel the inner demons.

In this situation, Myeongryeon Satae had only one option.

Rely on the limited records and strictly adhere to the established rules.

Practice Cheongsang Fist and remain within Amipa.

The conversation kept going in circles.

Frustrated, Dan Seolyeong clenched her fists, ready to lash out.

Namgung Myeong calmed her down.

“Hold on.”

“Hold on for what?”

“Trust me. In as little as five days, or at most ten, Mujin will be released.”

“How?”

“I have a plan.”

Reluctantly, Dan Seolyeong stepped back.

But Myeongryeon Satae scoffed, finding the idea absurd. Unless Dang Mujin completely expelled the inner demons, she had no intention of releasing him, not in ten days or even ten years.

However, Namgung Myeong knew someone who could solve the problem.

Ten days later, Namgung Myeong returned to Amipa with a person wearing a straw hat.

The person was short, dressed plainly and modestly.

The only noticeable feature was the long white hair hanging beneath the straw hat.

The person kept glancing around curiously.

“It’s been over fifty years, and nothing’s improved. If anything, everything seems to have just gotten older. Do you see that half-collapsed building over there?”

“Yes, I see it.”

“That’s the Manlyeong Pavilion. They said they’d repair it right away, but it looks like they still haven’t. Or maybe they did, and it’s just fallen into disrepair again?”

“Either way, it looks precarious, so the result isn’t much different.”

“Exactly. That’s what I’m trying to say. You’re good at picking up on things.”

“Heh.”

Namgoong Myung, with a cautious yet sly demeanor, tried to keep his companion in good spirits.

The person Namgoong Myung had brought along was Haryeong.

Haryeong had left the Amipa and stepped away from the path of a Buddhist nun, abandoning the moniker Hwayeon Shinni.

Yet, despite everything, Haryeong’s authority still held sway in the Amipa.

She hadn’t left on bad terms, and there were likely many who had learned from her teachings. Connections are a powerful thing, after all.

Eventually, the two arrived at the stairs leading down to the basement of Geumjeong Pavilion.

An old door blocked their way.

“Please wait a moment. I’ll fetch Myeongryeon Satae.”

“Myeongryeon Satae?”

“Yes, that’s the Dharma name of the head of Geumjeong Pavilion. They should have the key.”

”…No, that’s not necessary.”

“Pardon?”

Haryeong bowed her head, staring at the door, while Namgoong Myung watched her closely.

Though her face was hidden by a hat, she seemed deeply displeased.

“Look at it. How poorly maintained must it be for the door to look like it could fall apart at any moment?”

“Indeed, it does.”

“How much could it possibly cost to make a new door? No money is needed. Just some well-dried wood and a diligent monk, and you could have a new door in a day or two. Are there no diligent monks left in the Amipa?”

Haryeong grumbled for a while, then lifted her right foot and stomped the ground.

Thud—

A low vibration spread out, causing the ground to tremble slightly.

The tremor was so subtle that most of the monks passing by didn’t even notice Haryeong’s action.

But the door to the basement of Geumjeong Pavilion was different.

It shattered into pieces as if a giant with a sledgehammer had smashed it.

Haryeong spoke with satisfaction.

“It’ll be better to make a new one now.”

“You’re right. But before we get Mujin out, it might be wise to inform the head of Geumjeong Pavilion.”

“Why?”

“They might misunderstand. If they think Mujin, possessed by a demon, escaped somehow, it could cause trouble. They might come after him again.”

“I want to check on Dang Mujin’s condition first… No, never mind. Go fetch them quickly.”

Just as Namgoong Myung was about to go call Myeongryeon Satae, someone came running, using their martial arts to speed up.

Speak of the devil, it was Myeongryeon Satae, the head of Geumjeong Pavilion.

Sensing the sudden tremor, she rushed to the source.

She saw the shattered door, recognized Namgoong Myung’s familiar face, and noticed the white hair peeking out from under a hat.

Myeongryeon Satae tensed up.

There are only two types of people with white hair: the elderly or a demon.

Hair turning white is a common side effect for those who practice demonic arts. Whether their face and skin turn pale or their hair turns white, it’s why so many demon lords have nicknames with “white” in them, like White-Faced Blood Sword or White-Eyed Ghost.

Myeongryeon Satae shouted.

“Stop! What is happening here in the temple grounds?”

“So, you’re Myeongryeon Satae? I was just about to send someone to—”

White hair, but not an old voice. Myeongryeon Satae’s mind raced.

‘Is this what they meant by saying Dang Si-ju would be freed within ten days? Bringing in a demon to break him out by force?’

As soon as she reached a conclusion, Myeongryeon Satae let out a lion’s roar.

“Go!”

Myeongryeon Satae’s martial prowess was at the peak of her level. She was a formidable master, but not invincible. There was a chance her opponent’s skills surpassed hers.

But this was Bokhosa. Even if a notorious demon appeared, they couldn’t take on all the martial artists of the Amipa alone. Myeongryeon Satae continued with confidence.

“How dare you set foot here? You won’t leave alive!”

By now, the Amipa masters who had sensed the tremor and the nuns who had heard the lion’s roar had surrounded the three.

Namgoong Myung, realizing the situation had escalated, nervously tried to explain.

“Myeongryeon Satae, please calm down. We were just about to come see you.”

But Haryeong’s perspective was different.

She had come to revisit the Amipa, hoping to see familiar faces and relive old memories.

Instead, she was met with insults in front of a crowd. The gap between her expectations and reality was too vast.

Haryeong muttered to herself.

”…How dare you? Arrogant? Alive, what?”

She took a small step forward.

But to Myeongryeon Satae and the onlookers, it felt like an invisible force pushed them back, making them all take a step back.

Haryeong pointed a finger at Myeongryeon Satae.

“You, Myeongryeon, was it? Go fetch Jongsun right now.”

“Jongsun? Who’s that?”

Even during her time as a nun, Haryeong was never known for her gentle nature.

When she was called Hwayeon Shinni, she managed to maintain a semblance of composure, but her true nature never really changed.

And over fifty years, Haryeong had mingled with the people at the bottom, caring for them.

She changed them, but they also changed her, perhaps bringing her back to her original self.

For instance, her way of speaking.

“Bring your head monk, Wi Jongsun, here. You damn fool.”