Shaolin Temple

The next day, the monks gathered at Jangsaenggak.

Though it was only an emergency meeting decided the day before, far more people filled the seats than at a regular assembly. Of course, Tang Mujin and Goiyi were also present.

"Since everyone seems to be here, let us begin. The agenda concerns the punishment of Benefactor Tang, who violated the third precept of the Great Three Commandments. Of course, it would be preferable if Benefactor Tang disclosed from whom he learned martial arts, but that seems unlikely."

The one who had taught him martial arts. The first to come to mind was Dan Seol-yeong, or perhaps the Dan family.

But Tang Mujin had no intention of mentioning the Dan family. The Precepts Master was not the sort who would accept such an explanation—in fact, he would only insist that Dan Seol-yeong had also broken the precepts and should be punished alongside him.

All eyes turned to Tang Mujin. He spoke.

"I do not understand this situation. Precepts Master, do you believe I repaired the Wooden Man Alley in order to steal Shaolin's martial arts?"

"That is not the case."

"Yet you still believe I must be punished?"

"Because that is the precept."

Even though he had expected that response, Tang Mujin was still dumbfounded. He spoke toward the Precepts Master and all the monks present.

"While repairing the Wooden Man Alley, I realized: anyone who repairs it will inevitably come to learn the White Lotus Divine Fist and the Buddha's Shadow Lotus Steps. If mastering those two arts is considered a problem, then for three hundred years Shaolin has been dangling a sweet bait while seeking someone to punish."

His words could be taken as a sweeping criticism of Shaolin itself.

Yet no one rebuked him. Most of those present had gathered to shield Tang Mujin.

The Precepts Master replied.

"To say that repairing the Wooden Man Alley inevitably leads to mastering the White Lotus Divine Fist and Buddha's Shadow Lotus Steps—that is an exaggeration. If you had no knowledge of martial arts whatsoever, could you have truly learned them? I think not."

Someone muttered under their breath, criticizing the Precepts Master. But he was unfazed and continued.

"Even if you repaired the Wooden Man Alley, if you had not learned those arts, no problem would have arisen. If you lacked the confidence, you could have first joined Shaolin formally, then repaired it. If even that was too difficult, you could have simply kept the matter hidden. Yet Benefactor Tang, you rejected all three options."

"Are you suggesting I should still become a Shaolin disciple now?"

Tang Mujin asked, but the Precepts Master shook his head.

"It is already too late. The fact remains—you had no master, and you stole the arts."

"Stole them? That's quite the expression, Precepts Master."

At this point, Goiyi, who had remained silent until now, seized on the wording. As always, he spoke in his mocking, offhanded manner.

"Let's think about what stealing really means, Precepts Master. If you were a beggar monk without even a single coin, could a thief steal money from your pocket?"

"Of course not."

"If you were so poor that you didn't have even a grain of barley for breakfast, could a thief steal your morning meal and feast on it?"

"That would be impossible."

"Exactly. The point is—you cannot steal what does not exist. From what I saw in the Wooden Man Alley yesterday, not one monk even knew the names of the White Lotus Divine Fist or the Buddha's Shadow Lotus Steps, let alone their forms. So tell me, Precepts Master—how can one steal from Shaolin what Shaolin does not possess?"

Goiyi rose, stretched his shoulders, and walked slowly across the floor. His confident bearing drew every eye.

"You must think about this differently. What is the difference between restoring a martial art that no one remembers, not even in records, and creating a new martial art altogether? There may be differences, yes, but in the end, aren't they nearly the same?"

"The outcome may be similar, but there is one crucial point. The Wooden Man Alley that contained those arts is a legacy of Shaolin."

"Even so, it changes nothing. If Tang Mujin had not come here, that precious Wooden Man Alley would already be a flattened training ground by now."

Among dozens of eminent masters, Goiyi brazenly mocked the Shaolin monks.

"Set aside Shaolin's pride for a moment and think clearly. Did Tang Mujin steal a martial art you never practiced? Or are you about to shamelessly steal a martial art that Tang Mujin revealed to you? Has anyone here bowed nine times to Tang Mujin and formally acknowledged him as their master?"

"Goiyi, your words go too far."

"Yes, too far indeed. But Precepts Master, your words have gone too far as well. Just as Tang Mujin never demanded the rites of a master, you have no right to demand precepts of him."

Goiyi's argument danced constantly between sophistry and reason. For monks who had devoted their lives solely to martial practice, dismantling and countering such arguments was no easy task.

In fact, most of the Shaolin monks had no desire to argue against him. To them, it was far more humiliating that Shaolin was debating punishment for its benefactor at all.

The dispute lapsed into a brief lull, and the monks sank into thought.

A moment later, the Senior Monk spoke.

"It seems all that could be said has been said, and everyone has sorted out their thoughts. Those who believe Benefactor Tang must be punished, raise your hands."

The Precepts Master raised his hand firmly. A few others fidgeted uncertainly, but in the end, he was the only one to raise his hand.

"Those who believe Benefactor Tang should not be punished, raise your hands."

A forest of hands went up.

Some abstained, but they were few. One night was far too short a time to shake off the awe left by the Wooden Man Alley.

"The conclusion is clear. Regarding Benefactor Tang's supposed violation of the precepts, and the arts he has learned, the White Lotus Divine Fist and the Buddha's Shadow Lotus Steps—there shall be no more debate."

The monks nodded in agreement with the Senior Monk's words.

Tang Mujin breathed a sigh of relief and looked at the Precepts Master.

Unlike his earlier stern insistence on punishment, the Precepts Master's expression showed no trace of defeat, regret, or anger. His face remained as calm and unmoving as wood.

It seemed as though he had convened this gathering knowing his argument would fail, knowing he would be criticized and defeated.

But Tang Mujin's thoughts were interrupted when the Senior Monk addressed him.

"There remains one question for Benefactor Tang."

"Yes?"

"What is it that you desire in return for repairing the Wooden Man Alley?"

Preoccupied with the repairs, Tang Mujin had half-forgotten about a reward.

Looking back, perhaps he had already considered the Buddha's Shadow Lotus Steps and White Lotus Divine Fist to be his reward. After all, learning two advanced martial arts in such a short time was no small gain.

But aside from that, he had decided on his request from the very day he began the repairs.

"I wish for the Great Return Pill."

The elixir that could be called the greatest under heaven.

A medicine crafted from the rarest ingredients, painstakingly refined over long years.

Even among the abbots of Shaolin, few had ever taken the Great Return Pill.

Yet Tang Mujin was not sure he would be granted one. The Senior Monk had once said everything except the Jade Buddha Palm could be given, but whether he truly meant it was uncertain.

Even Goiyi had said that the Great Return Pill was too excessive a demand, and would almost certainly be refused.

But Tang Mujin had asked for it because of Goiyi's advice.

Propose something great, be refused once, and then suggest something smaller—the odds of acceptance would rise. Naturally, he had already prepared his second request:

"Summoning Pills, some lesser herbs, and if any minerals remain, then minerals as well."

But Tang Mujin and Goiyi's plan went awry.

For one reason only—the Senior Monk was a far more forthright man than expected.

"Come to the Guest Hall this evening and wait for me."

"Yes?"

"You must take the Great Return Pill, must you not? I can grant it, but I will not allow it to fall into the wrong hands."

Tang Mujin stared at him uncertainly. Did he truly mean to give him the Great Return Pill? To someone who was not even a top master, barely at the level of a first-rate fighter?

But the Senior Monk's expression was serious. It was no joke.

Tang Mujin glanced around in bewilderment. The other monks' expressions were much the same.

Dozens of eyes seemed to say to him:

"You deserve the Great Return Pill. Who else but you could receive it?"

Even the Precepts Master looked at him as if it were only natural.

Tang Mujin's chest swelled with emotion.

The Great Return Pill itself was one thing—but what moved Tang Mujin even more was that people had recognized his ability and effort.

With a slightly trembling voice, Tang Mujin answered.

"…Understood."

That was the final matter. With the emergency meeting concluded, Tang Mujin rose from his seat and headed toward the Guest Hall.

The Precepts Master watched his back until he disappeared, then quietly left as well.

***

That evening, as Tang Mujin lay in the Guest Hall, he heard footsteps.

It was surely the Senior Monk. Tang Mujin, flustered, sat upright and looked toward the doorway.

"I'll come in."

The Senior Monk announced unilaterally, opened the door, and stepped inside.

It seemed he already knew that Tang Mujin and Goiyi were waiting.

In the Senior Monk's hand was a wooden case wrapped in silk, and inside lay a white pill.

True to the name Great Return Pill, it was massive—so large that Tang Mujin wondered if he could even swallow it.

Goiyi's face was full of curiosity. It was only natural—he was seeing a Great Return Pill for the first time.

Tang Mujin brought the pill close and sniffed it. Perhaps, by some chance, he could discern how it had been made.

But from scent alone, he could identify nothing. The pill surely contained more mystical elixirs than common medicinal herbs.

He wanted to examine it more carefully, but the Senior Monk's gaze weighed heavily on him.

"…Do I just eat it as it is?"

"I have never taken the Great Return Pill myself, but that is how it is understood."

Unlike Goiyi, whose curiosity was unrestrained, the Senior Monk's voice carried a trace of envy. What must it feel like, to hand over a pill you've kept your whole life but never consumed, to a young man like Tang Mujin?

Tang Mujin sat cross-legged, took a deep breath, and placed the pill in his mouth.

He was nervous. When he had swallowed the Black Peony or the Venom Sac of the Seven Treasures Temple, the ordeals had been anything but ordinary.

Yet the Great Return Pill, upon brushing his tongue, vanished like a lie—leaving behind only a brief, refreshing coolness.

'What is this?'

In the next instant, a peculiar fragrance bloomed in his mouth. A refreshing, powerful scent reminiscent of mint.

It filled his mouth in an instant, then slid down into his throat of its own accord—he didn't even need to swallow.

And then an explosive energy surged in his abdomen.

His internal strength grew beyond comparison with the Black Peony's effects.

And yet, the pressure he felt now was even greater than then. The sheer amount of energy contained within the Great Return Pill was staggering.

But there was a decisive difference between the Black Peony and the Great Return Pill.

'There's no pain at all.'

The pill seemed to know exactly where it should go, moving on its own toward his dantian.

But there was too much energy for Tang Mujin to absorb. Once the dantian filled to capacity, the excess began to scatter in all directions.

'No!'

Dispersed energy would not obediently remain in the body. Just as breath can gather inner strength, breath can also let it escape. At the risk of losing much of the pill's power, Tang Mujin suddenly felt two palms pressing against his back. It was the Senior Monk.

"Do not resist the flow—move the energy slowly."

The monk's inner force entered through Tang Mujin's back and drew the pill's energy into two streams.

The first stream stretched downward from the perineum up through the chin, forming a long column.

The second stretched from the tailbone up to the gums, forming another.

Together, the two currents encircled his body in a great loop. Tang Mujin realized what meridians they had settled into: the Conception Vessel (Ren Mai) and the Governing Vessel (Du Mai).

"The Ren and Du meridians are the pillars of the body. With them linked, the Great Return Pill's power cannot easily escape. And when you one day ascend to the realm of mastery, it will be far easier to open the Small Heavenly Cycle."

Tang Mujin finished a brief circulation and opened his eyes. Goiyi and the Senior Monk were both still watching him.

Tang Mujin felt power surging within him. It almost seemed—though surely it could not be—that he had leapt past the rank of first-rate entirely and stepped straight into the realm of the peak masters.

He tested the sensation by performing a strike of the Flying Serpent Palm. His fingertips tore the air itself.

Though he had executed the technique in the same way as before, the sharpness of his movements and the ferocity of the form were incomparable.

Watching this, Goiyi muttered.

"You're probably the only man alive to gulp down a Great Return Pill before even reaching the peak level."

"It's all thanks to my talent. Honestly, I'm more surprised it ended so quickly. I thought I'd need to meditate for days."

"Of course not. Unlike natural medicines like the Black Peony or the Venom Sac of the Seven Treasures Temple, the Great Return Pill is crafted solely for one purpose—to elevate the user's inner strength. Of course it is easy to absorb."

The Senior Monk, who had been standing behind him, rose and spoke.

"Benefactor Tang. Tonight, do not sleep. Continue circulating your energy. Though the pill's power will not scatter easily, tonight is when you can absorb the most."

"I understand."

"I hope you achieve great attainment."

With that, the Senior Monk left the room. In his departing figure lingered a faint shadow of envy he could not fully conceal.