In front of the carriage of the Huangsang Sect's martial warriors, there were martial arts masters exuding a powerful aura, walking ahead. It was clear that they were elders or even the sect leader of the Huangsang Sect.
Ever since I absorbed the energy of the Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng, my ability to sense others' strength had greatly improved. The four masters standing at the front were radiating an immense and immeasurable energy.
In other words, all four of them were top-tier masters capable of materializing their qi — the energy of life and martial arts!
Such people could only be elders or the sect leader of the Huangsang Sect, the ones upholding the entire faction.
'As expected, I still can't face them head-on.'
Each of them was strong enough to be feared throughout the world. Even if the famed "Three Talents of Cheongryong Martial Pavilion" stood there in full force, they'd likely struggle to win.
I still needed more time — time to grow stronger based on the Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng.
I watched the procession from the second floor of the inn and then quietly shut the window.
***
The next day, rumors began circulating in public:
"The Sect Leader of the Huangsang Sect has admitted to past misconduct and, for the sake of the region's prosperity, has donated a hundred silver ingots! Furthermore, the Huangsang Sect will now work closely with the government to maintain public order!"
To top it off, there were exaggerated stories:
That the regional official was deeply moved by this, or that the sect leader was a righteous man of honor — utter nonsense.
In truth, the core of the matter was this:
The sect leader of the Huangsang Sect, feeling pressured, came to consult with the regional official.
And after their discussion, they agreed that the sect would donate a hundred silver ingots.
Using "public order" as an excuse, the Huangsang Sect had smoothly paved the way for deeper involvement in the area.
While it was true they'd help with public security, in reality, the common people would now feel the sect's influence even more strongly.
'Looks like the Huangsang Sect has a skilled strategist…'
Or perhaps the sect leader himself had an exceptionally clever mind.
Looking at the whole picture, the Huangsang Sect hadn't really lost anything. Giving up a hundred silver ingots was merely returning what they had extorted from the people anyway.
And now, they had used it as a way to expand their presence. Not to mention, they probably offered additional bribes to the regional official — strengthening their alliance.
I wasn't thrilled, but this was just how the world worked.
Still, thanks to what I'd done, the Huangsang Sect would likely lay low for a while, too wary to boldly demand tribute from commoners.
Just that alone would make life a bit more bearable for the people.
With that thought, I felt I had done my part.
However, as I left the inn that day and headed toward Luoyang, I glanced back slightly.
"Those Huangsang Sect bastards… You're already marked by me."
The day I fully decode the Heavenly Pressure Manual and my life gets back on track,
the Huangsang Sect will be hit by a disaster the likes of which they've never known.
****
8. Wandering Spirits
The road to Luoyang was not smooth.
Rumble rumble…
It had been several days since I left Huangsang.
Due to a torrential downpour, I became stuck in a remote mountain village, unable to go forward or back.
I've seen many heavy rains in my life, but this time, the problem was that the bridges had collapsed and the fords were submerged.
Maybe, with my lightness skill (qinggong), I could leap over the wide, muddy waters.
But even if I crossed dozens of zhang (units of length), the surrounding terrain had turned into isolated patches like islands in a sea of mud.
If I misjudged things, I might just end up starving to death, soaked and weakened.
Crash! Rumble…
Lightning flashed.
I stared out at the maddening rain from inside the building and muttered to myself:
"No matter how many fateful encounters you have… they're useless in the face of nature."
Even if my internal energy were twice as powerful as it is now, there was nothing I could do in this situation.
Before even a fraction of nature's power, human strength is helpless.
It had been decades since I was swept into this vast, mighty world, but I still couldn't help feeling awe at its grandeur.
At the moment, I was nearly out of travel funds.
So, I stayed in this village, paying for my lodging and meals by helping the villagers with physical labor and odd jobs.
Of course, with my current strength—comparable to a world-class strongman—none of the villagers seemed to mind paying me for my services.
Even as the rain poured relentlessly, I carried massive timber, repaired outer walls, and hauled stones—doing the work of twenty men by myself.
If not for me, several houses would have collapsed already, so the villagers seemed quite grateful.
"The one who just brought you food is my daughter. What do you think? Not bad, right?"
"Hah…"
The village chief was even trying to set me up with his daughter, sneaking in an introduction.
She didn't look particularly pretty or ugly—just your average country girl.
Like most farm girls, she was rather well-endowed, but that didn't mean much to me.
I smiled awkwardly and turned down the chief's suggestion:
"I'll be leaving soon. Besides, a girl like her wouldn't want someone as ugly as me."
"Hmph… What's so important about a man's looks anyway? Even if you looked like some fancy courtesan, it wouldn't be of any use."
"That may be true, but I've got something I need to do right now."
Clink.
The village chief took out a white porcelain bottle and poured me a cup of takju (rice wine).
I accepted it quietly and drank, and he spoke again.
"Come to think of it, you said your destination was Luoyang. What business do you have there?"
"I'm searching for someone who might be well-versed in all the knowledge and ancient lore of the world."
"Well… If it's Luoyang, then I suppose there would be someone like that."
The village chief, who had been deep in thought, suddenly seemed to remember something.
"Ah! If you're looking for a knowledgeable person, I do know someone!"
"Who might that be?"
"About 40 li (around 16 kilometers) west of here, there lives a Taoist hermit called the Immortal of Wandering Spirits (Mangryang Seonsa).
He's said to be the most spiritually gifted person in the area—perhaps he could answer your questions."
It was a name I had never heard before.
"A Taoist, huh…"
A Taoist was someone at the pinnacle of popular mystical beliefs.
In orthodox martial sects like the Nine Great Schools (Gupa Ilbang), there were many Taoist factions,
but they were martial Taoists—people who pursued enlightenment through right-path cultivation methods, not through superstition.
The Taoists known to the common folk, however, were more like ritual shamans or mystics.
They predicted fortune and misfortune, offered spiritual guidance through mysterious rituals, and sometimes even practiced medicine.
The Immortal of Wandering Spirits was likely one of these mystics.
I didn't necessarily disbelieve in such things, but I often felt that much of what they did bordered on trickery or deceit.
Since my days as an armed escort, I had always found ritual shamans uncomfortable to deal with.
But I changed my mind.
After all, wasn't the Heavenly Pressure Manual (Cheonap Biseo)—which I cherished more than my own life and carried close to my chest—a pinnacle of mysterious lore itself?
If I was seeking wise men around the world, then meeting such a mystic couldn't be excluded.
"By any chance… is this Mangryang Seonsa a martial artist?"
"No, not that I've ever heard. I've visited him a few times myself, but he never struck me as one.
Still, even the local officials often go to consult with him, so he's clearly highly respected."
"I see…"
"He lives in a place called Jinrang Valley (Jinranggok). It's hidden away, but if you ask around, you'll get there quickly enough."
And just like that, my next destination became Jinrang Valley.
Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—the path to Jinrang wasn't far off from the road to Luoyang, so there was no reason to hesitate.
"Let's go."
As soon as the rain stopped, I set out for Jinrang Valley.
Thanks to the simple map the village chief sketched for me, I had little worry about getting lost.
Still, since the torrential rains had only just passed, many bridges were destroyed, forcing me to take long, winding detours… which was extremely annoying.
Creeping Sounds
Haaah… ah… ahh…
There was a clear sense of movement from inside—something was shifting around.
A woman's soft, delicate moans echoed faintly, and through the papered door, I could clearly see the silhouettes of a man and woman locked in a passionate embrace, engaging in sexual activity.
From what I could make out, they were even changing positions mid-act, clearly in the throes of vigorous lovemaking.
Judging from the forceful thrusts of the man and the enthusiastic tone of the woman's moans, it was definitely not rape.
This was, by all appearances, fully consensual.
"This is supposed to be the home of the Immortal of Wandering Spirits, isn't it…?"
Annoying, but ever since my internal energy had surged, my hearing had also become incredibly sharp.
Right now, I could hear everything inside as if I were right next to it—
the wet, slapping sounds of bodily fluids, gasps of arousal, and the rhythmic pounding of the man's hips.
Unbelievable.
They're going at it in broad daylight?
Of course, I'm not a eunuch, so my lower half naturally reacted—but I forced it down with sheer willpower and let out a long sigh.
"Haaah…"
I deliberately made a sound, and sure enough, chaos ensued inside.
I could sense the man and woman scrambling apart in panic.
The woman was hurriedly grabbing her clothes, and the man seemed to be hastily straightening the bedding.
Honestly, if I kicked open the door right now, it'd probably be hilarious…
But I restrained myself.
***
When I arrived at Jinrang Valley, there was a small village nestled at the base of a narrow mountain pass.
This must be the area the village chief was referring to, where the Immortal of Wandering Spirits lived.
Upon entering the village and asking a passerby about his house, the man pointed toward the distant mountaintop.
"The master lives at the summit. There's a staircase carved out—just follow it slowly, and you should reach it in about an hour."
"Do a lot of people come here to see him?"
The young man grinned widely.
"Haha, yeah, you could say that. He's the pride of our village, after all."
I headed toward the Immortal's house with mixed feelings—half expectation, half doubt.
But whatever the truth, the villagers clearly trusted this man.
So I hoped he might be able to tell me the secret of the Heavenly Pressure Manual.
If I could find out what it really was, maybe I could finally live a more focused, stable life.
Wheeeee…
After a long climb up the mountain staircase, I finally reached the peak.
There, I saw a thatched-roof cottage that appeared to be the Immortal's residence.
I could tell people were inside from the sounds and the multiple pairs of shoes at the door.
But the closer I got, the stranger my expression became.
Something… odd was going on inside.
I held back my inner sigh and waited, arms crossed.
After quite a while, the woman escaped through the back door.
Only once the man had completely "cleaned up" did the door finally open.
Out stepped a Taoist, wearing a solemn expression.
"Hrm… What brings you here?"
Ugh… The smell of stale bodily fluids and sweat is practically pouring out of the room…
Couldn't he have at least washed himself off a bit before coming out?
Sigh. Forget it.
I really wanted to call him out, but there was no point in confronting someone I didn't know—
especially someone who might be able to answer my desperate questions.
So I decided to let it go for now.
"I'm just a traveler passing through. The name's Baek Mong. Are you perhaps the Immortal of Wandering Spirits?"
The Taoist, who looked to be in his early to mid-30s, gave a slight nod.
He had a lean build and prominent cheekbones, with a faint flush still on his face.
He looked much younger than I had imagined.
"Yes, I am the Immortal of Wandering Spirits."
"Then I've found the right person."
"Heh heh… Come, let's sit over there and talk."
The Immortal quickly diverted my attention toward a seating area beneath a large tree, where rough-cut tree stumps served as chairs.
There was even a hand-carved Go board laid out—it was clearly a spot meant for relaxing and playing.
I took a seat and faced him, observing closely.
"I don't sense any strong aura from him. Doesn't seem like a martial artist…"
But I couldn't let my guard down.
There were plenty of hidden masters in the world capable of suppressing their energy completely.
And if he was truly a master of mystical arts, letting my guard down could lead to a painful mistake.
Strangely enough, though he called himself a Taoist, he didn't carry the usual Taoist whisk (buljin).
Instead, a simple folding fan hung from his waist.
He drew water from a nearby well and handed me a cup.
"You must be tired after climbing all those stairs. Have a drink."
"No, I'm fine."
"Hmm, I see…"
He looked a little awkward as he drank alone, and I decided to get to the point.
"Immortal, are you well-versed in the languages of the world?"
"Languages…?"
He scratched his head for a moment, then broke into a confident smile.
"Of course! Whatever it is you're after, you've come to the right place.
I'm fluent in Central Plains dialects, the accents of the North Sea, the tongues of the southern tribes beyond the Yangtze, and even some Sanskrit from the West.
Ask me anything you want."
I couldn't tell whether this guy was for real or just full of it.
Judging from the suspicious behavior I'd seen earlier, there was a very high chance the Immortal of Wandering Spirits was just a con man.
But for now, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.
Cautiously, I reached into my robes and pulled out the Heavenly Pressure Manual (Cheonap Biseo), showing it to him.
"Hmm? What's this? Cheonap Biseo?"
Fwap.
As soon as he flipped open the first page, the Immortal sucked in a sharp breath.
His eyes went blank for a moment—and then suddenly, as if he had taken a hit of some powerful drug, he transformed.
He buried his face in the book like a man obsessed.
For nearly half an hour, he stared at it without saying a single word.
Then, out of nowhere, he looked up abruptly.
"W-where on earth did you get this?!"
"Before I answer that, I've got a question for you."
I narrowed my eyes, watching him closely as I continued.
"Have you ever seen this strange script before? Or do you already know what it is?"
"Hmm… Give me a moment to organize my thoughts."
"Go ahead."
Remaining seated, the Immortal folded his arms and went quiet in deep thought.
Finally, he said:
"No… this won't do. You'll have to tell me first. Then I'll tell you."
"Do you really think that's fair?"
The Immortal shook his head.
"Even if you try to force me, it won't work. I want to hear your story first."
His attitude made it clear—he had no intention of backing down.
"Tch…"