Heavenly Martial Repository
"Miscellaneous Skills? I don't like the sound of that. Wouldn't it be better to just learn a sword art or a footwork technique instead?"
Tang Mujin suggested tentatively, but Goiyi countered with a question.
"Xuanwu Divine Art, Heart-Self Sword, Secret Manual Palm, Azure Cloud Steps. Of the martial arts I've taught you, have you mastered even one?"
Tang Mujin trained diligently every day. He focused his mind, practiced each movement, linked the forms together, refining his routines. Over endless repetition, he could faintly sense the essence behind the forms.
It was like a wheel endlessly turning. Yet through persistent practice, he would sometimes realize something had changed from a few days ago—his inner energy flowed more smoothly, his techniques grew sharper and stronger.
Though he had never experienced a sudden enlightenment, stacking small improvements step by step was still a path upward.
But to speak of "perfection" outright—he had no reply. Perfection? Already? Impossible.
"…Of course not. It's going to take a long time."
"Exactly. So don't wander here and there—just master what I've already given you."
"But still… is there anything useful in these so-called 'miscellaneous skills'?"
"Plenty. In fact, they're better suited to you and me."
"Why? Maybe for you, but what about me?"
"Because we seek different things. The goal of an ordinary martial artist is simple: clash head-on, win, and gain fame as a strongman. But that's not what you and I want. Victory isn't the most important goal."
Goiyi's dream wasn't to reach the ultimate peak of martial arts, but to gather every healing art under heaven.
As for Tang Mujin, his goal was vague. He wished to become greater, yes—but not to the point of risking his life again and again in pursuit of the next realm.
"That's why we need at least one way to survive even if we lose. Among miscellaneous skills are such arts and techniques."
Goiyi began reading the titles on the spines of the manuals.
"Chaotic Tracks Step. Not fast, but it scatters footprints to avoid pursuit. Perfect for shaking off a tracker. Turtle Breath Method. This one lowers body temperature and even halts the heartbeat while remaining still."
"What good is staying still?"
"When no way out remains, even playing dead can be useful."
"I'm not sure it would work."
"If no one had ever survived using the Turtle Breath Method, it wouldn't be so famous."
Standing behind them, Namgung Hwan listened with a sour expression.
Since outsiders had been allowed into the Heavenly Martial Repository, he had assumed they would seek powerful martial arts manuals. But the conversation going back and forth sounded utterly strange.
Goiyi kept scanning through all sorts of odd volumes. Techniques for changing one's face, arts for enlarging or shrinking the body, even methods like Bone Shrinking Skill looked somewhat useful.
Then, when he noticed the characters Bedroom Arts on one book, Tang Mujin instinctively reached toward it—then quickly pulled his hand back. He was curious, but too embarrassed to open it.
Secretly, he hoped Goiyi might choose it for him.
"What are you looking for that's taking so long?"
"Ah, here it is. This one."
The book Goiyi pulled free bore the title Escaping Monkey Art (Yudogong). A martial art of the fleeing monkey—easily the most unglamorous name he had seen.
More than unglamorous, Tang Mujin thought the name itself odd. If it was about imitating a monkey's fleeing movements, shouldn't it be called Escaping Monkey Steps or Escaping Monkey Divine Art?
When he asked about the name, Goiyi explained.
"Have you ever seen a monkey for yourself?"
"No."
"After fleeing, monkeys circle back around and throw things. This art was created with that behavior in mind."
Tang Mujin's face darkened. What use was such a martial art?
"Why would I learn this?"
"The important part is the throwing. Remember when you went into Zhangshang Chai, and Hong Geolgae subdued the bandits by spitting at them?"
"Ah… I get it."
Unlike other martial artists, Tang Mujin could use poison. Without closing in, even striking an opponent with a poison-tipped projectile could decide the fight.
"Throwing knives or projectile arts may seem trivial, but those who truly master them are rare. Unless you plan to enter the Killing Curtain to train as an assassin, this art is your only path to learn throwing techniques."
Goiyi handed the Escaping Monkey Art to Tang Mujin.
"So memorize it."
How long it took to memorize the mnemonic verses depended on the person.
For the less gifted, even a short chant could take all day. But Tang Mujin's aptitude was not poor.
And the chant of Escaping Monkey Art was short enough that by the time he had it memorized, the sun was already high in the sky.
There was just one problem.
"I've memorized the verses… but I have no idea what they mean."
The chant read like poetry—or like a string of nonsense. He could recite it fluently, but felt no sense of gaining power.
"Of course. Recite it during practice, and reflect on the meaning between the lines. The chant is only a path toward realization. It won't hand you everything."
As Tang Mujin muttered the chant, miming the act of throwing random objects, Goiyi slipped away and returned carrying one large bundle and two smaller ones.
"What's this?"
"The herbs and poisons I demanded from Namgung Jincheon yesterday. This is where things require some thought."
When Goiyi opened them, a startling scene unfolded.
The large bundle was filled with valuable medicinal ingredients.
There were recognizable items like golden-flower root, eaglewood, and deer antler, but many others he couldn't even name.
"This one's real rhinoceros horn. Worth more than its weight in gold. And over there, dragon bone."
Goiyi picked them up one by one, explaining as he went.
Warmth swelled in Tang Mujin's chest. These weren't things money alone could buy.
Just taking this bundle back to his village would make his brief wanderings a great success.
Next, Goiyi opened a smaller bundle. This one contained odds and ends—roots, petals, and small medicinal pills.
"These are minor herbs and pellets. They won't greatly aid inner cultivation, and their energy is impure. Better to sell them for travel expenses."
Elixirs had to be fully digested before another could be taken.
And the Black Peony energy within Tang Mujin's dantian was still less than half dissolved. With these offering little effect, there was no reason to be greedy.
"And the last is the most important."
In the final bundle were toxic herbs like crow-dipper and monkshood, along with suspicious powders and sinister items.
"These are all poisons?"
"Yes. Bat wings from a Blood Venom Bat, poison sacs of the Seven-Treasure Viper, fangs of the Nine-Segmented Black Centipede. Some, even I don't recognize."
"I've been wondering—why does the Namgung Clan even keep such things?"
"They were taken from slain assassins of the demonic path. Leaving them lying around could put them into the wrong hands. Can't sell them, can't use them, so they just piled up."
"Hm…"
Tang Mujin quickly guessed Goiyi's intent.
When they had found the Black Peony in Jueul Village, Goiyi had meditated beside the corpse pit, absorbing the toxins. He must plan to do the same now.
"But… how do you use absorbed poison?"
"Want me to show you?"
Goiyi led Tang Mujin outside, to a small shrub.
He pressed his palm against it.
A black mark appeared where his hand touched, releasing a sharp, acrid stench, like improperly refined medicine.
The smell alone was enough to make Tang Mujin's head swim with dizziness.
"You form a small poison pill above the dantian, gather the toxins there, and release them when needed. Even without palm techniques, there are countless ways to use it."
As Goiyi spoke, a black droplet welled up on the tip of his right index finger. When it fell to the ground, the short grass beneath withered yellow and died in an instant.
To an onlooker it was a fascinating trick—but to anyone forced to fight Goiyi, it would be unbearably daunting.
Goiyi casually performed a movement from Flying Down Palm as he continued.
"Flying Down Palm. Light as drifting cotton, far removed from domineering techniques. The reason I taught you this palm art above all others is because one who uses poison doesn't need overwhelming force. A light touch, letting it seep in, is enough."
He swayed lazily as he demonstrated the forms of Flying Down Palm.
"Unless it's an extremely potent toxin, a master can use inner energy to block the infiltration of poison. But repelling toxins while fighting is extraordinarily difficult—like painting with one hand while swinging a sword with the other."
Tang Mujin watched his movements and imagined—if he were the one fighting Goiyi, how would it feel? Knowing that even the lightest brush of that hand could decide victory or defeat…
"Righteous martial artists avoid using poison precisely because it is so deadly and effective in killing. Many deem it cowardly to fight with anything beyond weapon or body."
"But you use poison, Elder—even though you're a righteous martial artist."
"Who told you I was a righteous martial artist?"
"…What?"
Tang Mujin blinked, confused. Wasn't Goiyi, of course, a righteous man? Had he unknowingly been following a heretic all this time?
"But you're here in the Namgung Clan, aren't you? Surely they wouldn't accept a heretical martial artist."
"If you must label me, I stand between righteous and heretical. I don't care which side my patient belongs to. If he's sick, I'll treat a Shaolin high monk the same as a notorious demon."
Goiyi drew one of the two swords Tang Mujin had recently forged—the Plague-Cleaving Sword (Danbyeonggeom). He slashed it through the air as he went on.
"The same with killing. Like those doctors in Jueul Village who spread disease for their own gain—I killed them all. And if someone refused to share a cure, I threatened or slew them to take it."
"You killed people just for not sharing treatments?"
"You must have heard the rumors that I killed physicians wherever I went."
"I thought that was just slander."
"It's not. I've killed dozens of physicians that way. There are countless who would kill me if given the chance. It's only because I've also saved many lives that so few dare to act directly."
The relationship between Tang Mujin and Goiyi was hard to define. The closest word might be master and disciple.
Yet Goiyi had never once claimed to be his teacher, and when introducing Tang Mujin to others, he always called him merely a companion.
Perhaps it was his way of sparing Tang Mujin from being entangled in his grudges and debts.
Goiyi continued in his drawling tone,
"In any case, to make real use of Flying Down Palm, you need to form a poison pill above your dantian. With that in mind—shall we start by sampling the poison sac of a Seven-Treasure Viper?"
He held out a black poison sac, no bigger than the tip of a pinky, right in front of Tang Mujin's nose.
Tang Mujin reflexively recoiled.
"Are you insane?"
"Insane? Don't be silly. It may be called a poison pill, but used well, it's a medicine pill. Want to see?"
Before Tang Mujin could react, Goiyi pressed two fingers against the Jianjing point on his shoulder.
At once, a warm, tingling fragrance unique to medicinal qi spread, loosening the tension knotted from long days of smithing. His shoulder felt wonderfully refreshed.
Goiyi didn't stop there—he kneaded the muscles gently, leaving Tang Mujin's body melting into drowsy relaxation.
"When you return home and treat patients, try this. Soon they'll say Physician Tang heals just by touching the wrist. The name of 'Divine Doctor Tang Mujin of Sichuan' will spread across the province. How does that sound?"
Of all the things Goiyi had ever said, this suggestion was the most tempting.
Though Tang Mujin still felt revulsion at the Seven-Treasure Viper's poison sac, his hand moved almost against his will, reaching forward to accept it.