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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Chaos
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Namgung-Woo stared directly at Peng Hou-sang, who stood opposite him.
Peng Hou-sang held not his usual saber, but an ordinary practice saber.
A powerful aura emanated from him.
“Then, let’s begin.”
With that declaration, a wave of energy, like a sudden storm, washed over Namgung-Woo.
How did it come to this?
In a fleeting moment, he recalled the starting point.
It had been some time since he’d arrived in Tianjin, and he was considering his departure.
News of the incident in Beijing was spreading, and the Hebei Peng Family’s reputation, bolstered by their crucial role in quelling the unrest, was echoing throughout the Jianghu.
To determine his next destination, Namgung-Woo had sought out Peng Hou-sang.
While he was closer to Peng Ha-ryeong and Peng Ye-ryeong, Peng Hou-sang was the Family Head.
It was proper etiquette to inform him of his plans.
When Namgung-Woo announced his intention to leave and inquired about a forge capable of handling the Sky-Gazing Howler’s horn, Peng Hou-sang’s response had been unexpected.
“Do you enjoy fishing, young friend?”
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As mentioned before, Tianjin was a port city connected to the Grand Canal, despite being inland.
But even without the Grand Canal, Tianjin was close enough to the coast that one could see the sea within a day’s travel.
Situated between two major rivers, Tianjin had no shortage of rivers and lakes.
While the heavily trafficked Grand Canal wasn’t conducive to aquatic life, there were plenty of other fishing spots around Tianjin.
But the place Peng Hou-sang took him to was special.
A private fishing spot, accessible only to members of the Hebei Peng Family.
Since the martial artists of the Peng Family weren’t particularly fond of fishing, it was essentially Peng Hou-sang’s personal fishing hole.
Dressed in casual clothes instead of their usual martial attire, the two men sat side-by-side.
Though he’d never fished before, Namgung-Woo had seen enough videos and heard enough stories to understand the basics.
He followed Peng Hou-sang’s instructions with ease.
Casting his line, Namgung-Woo asked, “Do you enjoy fishing?”
“Not particularly. But it’s become a hobby.”
Peng Hou-sang, who had initially addressed him formally as a benefactor, had switched to informal speech at Namgung-Woo’s request.
He began to reminisce.
“I used to be pretty impulsive when I was younger.”
He spoke as if he were a completely different person now.
If anyone who knew him were present, they would have immediately recounted countless examples of his impulsive behavior.
But unfortunately for them, this fishing spot was Peng Family property.
“My father suggested I try fishing. At first, I found it tedious. I didn’t want to waste time on anything other than martial arts. As you’ll soon discover, fishing can be quite boring.”
While some found enjoyment in it, Peng Hou-sang wasn’t one of them.
Yet, he persisted.
Not simply because his father had told him to, but because he’d learned something from it.
“Why did Jiang Ziya fish with his hook three inches above the water?”
“Are you referring to the parable of ‘Three Inches from the Water’?”
It was a well-known story, and Namgung-Woo had heard it before.
Jiang Ziya, also known as Jiang Taigong, was a legendary figure often associated with fishing.
While it seemed a random topic, Jiang Taigong was a respected figure in the martial world.
The idiom “Taigong fishing”, describing his actions, was a famous name for a technique that involved using an opponent’s strength against them.
Moreover, Jiang Taigong was deified in Taoism, and there were actual Taoist martial arts based on his philosophy.
“I used to think Taoist martial arts were outdated and full of empty rituals. But I was wrong. I learned that what I needed wasn’t to seek externally, but internally. Once I understood that, the wall crumbled.”
Namgung-Woo realized that Peng Hou-sang wasn’t just reminiscing.
He was offering advice.
To him, who hadn’t yet mastered his upper dantian.
To him, who relied on brute force and synergistic techniques, lacking the harmony of essence, energy, and spirit that defined a true Transcendent Realm expert.
“…You knew?”
“I suspected. During your fight with Li Zi-long on Longevity Hill, you barely used your upper dantian. An upper dantian technique powerful enough to close Ye-ryeong’s Celestial Gate… it should have been more than a match for Li Zi-long’s sorcery.”
“I did use my upper dantian to decipher his techniques.”
“Just because someone is naturally fast doesn’t make them a master of Light-Foot Technique.”
He was being polite, speaking in a roundabout way due to Namgung-Woo’s benefactor status.
But the underlying message was clear: ‘It’s not skill, you’re just naturally gifted.’
Namgung-Woo, struck by the truth, remained silent.
Peng Hou-sang chuckled and pulled a book from his robes and offered it to Namgung-Woo.
“Take this.”
“What is it?”
Namgung-Woo took the book and read the title.
“‘Crossing the Immortal Realm’?”
[Jeseon-gyeong], Crossing the Immortal Realm.
The title clearly suggested a Taoist scripture or something similar.
“It’s a book of mystical arts. A Taoist scripture, to be precise.”
“Ah.”
Feeling a tug on his line, Peng Hou-sang grabbed his fishing rod and said, “I acquired this during my recent travels. Before I met you, I considered it my last hope.”
He had done everything in his power to close Peng Ye-ryeong’s Celestial Gate.
And the ‘Jeseon-gyeong’ was his most valuable find in recent years, the one he’d placed the most hope in.
“The title is probably tentative. I had a sorcerer appraise it, and he was stunned. He said it’s a compilation of various Taoist scriptures, woven together with mystical techniques, and the level is incredibly high. But now, the Peng Family no longer needs it.”
He thought of Peng Ye-ryeong’s slowly closing Celestial Gate.
She had begun to control her upper dantian and manage her Celestial Gate on her own. They no longer needed hope. Salvation had already arrived.
“I’m giving it to you.”
“…To me?”
“Taoist scriptures can be insightful, but Zhuangzi and Laozi are too esoteric and difficult to understand. And to navigate the Jianghu, you need some knowledge of mystical arts. The ‘Jeseon-gyeong’ is a good way to learn about Taoism and gain knowledge of sorcery. If you master it, you could even show off a bit at Mount Mo.”
Mount Mo, considered the center of sorcery in the righteous martial world.
In this era, with Ghost Gates opening and the value of sorcery rising to rival that of martial arts, Mount Mo held a prominent position among the Nine Great Sects.
A book of mystical arts unknown even to Mount Mo?
It was priceless.
The mere revelation of its existence could trigger a bloodbath.
While Namgung-Woo didn’t fully grasp its value, it was clear that it was far more precious than a uniform woven with Shadow Spider silk.
Perhaps even more valuable than the Sky-Gazing Howler’s horn Guo Duan had given him.
He hesitated, unsure if he should accept such a gift.
“If you don’t need it, burn it. It’s no use to me anymore. Keeping it would only bring trouble.”
“…Then, I’ll gratefully keep it.”
Peng Hou-sang clicked his tongue internally at the cautious reply, leaving room to return the book later.
A man should have ambition and drive.
Namgung-Woo was good in many ways, but his adherence to etiquette was a flaw. Sometimes, one needed to bend the rules.
‘Well, that’s something he can learn later.’
With that thought, which Namgung-Woo would never know, Peng Hou-sang yanked his fishing rod.
He proudly displayed a large, wriggling fish.
“See?”
“A whopper! Congratulations.”
“Haha, indeed.”
Peng Hou-sang smiled, satisfied, and tossed the fish back into the water.
Such mercy!
This was the magnanimity befitting the head of the Hebei Peng Family.
Sensing Namgung-Woo’s respectful gaze, Peng Hou-sang decided to drive the point home with his second prepared move.
“But you haven’t experienced the upper dantian’s potential through martial arts, have you?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Well, then, it’s time you did. Seeing is better than hearing, hearing is better than thinking, and thinking is better than doing nothing, right? Come on, let’s go back. I’ll let you experience the essence of the Peng Family’s martial arts!”
Having exhausted his yearly quota of proverbs in a single day, Peng Hou-sang excitedly hurried back to the Peng estate, urging Namgung-Woo along.
And that was how Namgung-Woo ended up facing Peng Hou-sang on the training grounds.
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