Defying the Heavens Scholar - Chapter 5

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Yeok Cheon Seo Saeng, Episode 5

Episode 5. Thrashing to Survive. (Five).

The room was so silent it seemed to have swallowed even the sound of breathing.
A sparse space devoid of furnishings, dominated only by a single diagram spread across a desk.
The man staring intently at it spoke in a low murmur.

“To interpret the Hwang Jung Maek Gyeong in such a manner…….”

The man’s face was concealed behind a cloth of black.
Yet the grace and authority seeping through that veil could never be hidden.
An aura of oppression born from dragon’s blood. By his presence alone, the air in the room grew heavy and suffocating.
At those words, Yu Hyun-gong, the chief administrator of Musimdong, bowed deeply.

“The interpretation is remarkable enough, but the metaphor comparing acupoints to rocky islets and meridian channels to waterways is even more extraordinary.”

The man nodded without emotion.

“Mere expression is secondary. The true marvel lies in the fact that he penetrated the acupoints of the Maek Hyeol Seok through his own method.”

In that moment, Yu Hyun-gong did not dare raise his head. To stand in this place was itself an honor he hardly deserved.
Above all, he knew better than anyone that the one before him with face concealed was the head of the Heuk Rin-wi and of royal blood, and that to breathe a word of this secret would cost him his life.
A cold sweat traced down his spine and dripped onto the floor.
His hands trembled already, yet even that trembling he could not dare conceal.

“Administrator Yu.”

At the low voice that emerged from behind the black cloth, Yu Hyun-gong’s shoulders stiffened.

“Your command.”
“As you know, the Crown Prince is deeply troubled by the current state of the Murim. They have long disregarded the Imperial Household’s authority, and they treat even imperial decrees as nothing. Their power has grown beyond control, and curbing it is far more difficult than words can express. Yet we cannot merely stand idle. It is but a modest beginning, but with this foundation, I wish to ease the Crown Prince’s worries even a little.”

At the man’s words, Yu Hyun-gong bowed so deeply his forehead nearly touched the floor.

“How could I not understand? I shall devote myself to this task with unwavering resolve.”
“My thanks.”

The man rose with effort and left the room with slow, measured steps.
Once his presence had completely vanished, another figure—face and body concealed beneath a black robe—appeared silently before Yu Hyun-gong.
Eyes devoid of expression. He extended an ancient, worn book.

“Procured with great difficulty. See that you master it thoroughly.”

Yu Hyun-gong accepted the book with both hands respectfully, betraying not a flicker of surprise, and answered curtly.

“Yes, sir.”

He remained for a time with the book pressed against his chest, unable to leave his place.
The Imperial Household. The Crown Prince’s will.
It was the command of the shadow that moved beneath the name Heuk Rin-wi.

“Heuk Rin-wi…….”

Yu Hyun-gong whispered the name softly and rose to his feet.
In that instant, a lamp placed in the corner of the room flickered faintly, though no wind stirred.
In the profound silence, it seemed as though an unseen hand had passed through the chamber.
After a moment to steady his breath, he drew the worn book from his robe and examined it.

“The Ziran Huajing…….”

The worn book that Heuk Rin-wi had handed over was none other than the Ziran Huajing—a supreme technique known to be learnable only by the greatest masters of the Huashan Sect.
Trembling fingers carefully turned the pages.
On the yellowed, worn paper lay nothing that could be called a proper technique—only brushstrokes, raw and unrefined.
Strokes that depicted formless currents, as clouds drift across the sky, as mountain ranges bend and flow.

“This…… can this truly be called a martial art……?”

Confusion and madness flickered simultaneously in his eyes.
According to what was known in the world, the Ziran Huajing was a swordstyle without form.
When blade and swordsman, internal force and breath, all merged into one, it became as if nature itself wielded the sword—a realm of absolute unity.
A text containing truths that even the sect leader of Huashan would struggle to attain in a lifetime.
And now it had fallen into the hands of the Imperial Household.

* * *

“Elder.”

Kang No, who had been dozing, lifted his head at my voice.

“Speak.”

I hesitated for a moment before carefully opening my mouth.

“Is it possible…… for me to see what Jegal Se’s son was researching?”

It was an abrupt request, but Kang No tilted his head thoughtfully, then slowly rose to his feet.

“As I mentioned before, that one was exceptionally skilled in formation arrays and medical arts. He came here originally to research heart methods and devise countermeasures against them. He was so talented that he alone broke through more than ten different heart methods.”

Kang No paused briefly before continuing.

“But then something shifted in his heart. His progress began to slow. Those above waited and waited, but in the end, he could not resolve the task given to him—and lost his head for it.”

As he spoke, we had arrived before a tightly sealed iron door.
It creaked open slowly, as if breaking a long silence.

Screeeech—.

The smell of old rust mingled with dust and mildew hit our noses all at once.
And the sight that unfolded within was nothing short of miraculous.
The first thing to catch the eye was the floor—covered entirely with countless thin lines.
At first they looked like mindless scribbles, but staring down at them for a long moment, a hidden order began to emerge.

Neat yet chaotic lines, order within disorder.
Merely looking at them, an oppressive sensation washed over me, as though invisible threads were slowly wrapping around my body.
Kang No, however, seemed unaffected, his nose twitching as he furrowed his brow.
The thick smell of ink filling the room was clearly bothering him.

“For reasons unknown, that one shut himself in this room for a full year researching formation arrays. The amount of ink and paper he consumed was truly staggering.”
“I see…….”

Only then did I realize the lines on the floor were part of a formation array.

“Elder, do you happen to know which formation array he was so absorbed in?”

Kang No shook his head at my question.

“He was a man of few words. I didn’t press him, and he offered no particular explanations in return.”

I drew a shallow breath and examined the floor again.
A strange pattern woven from countless invisible threads.
Simply standing there filled me with the uncanny sensation of being bound by invisible hands.

“Go on inside.”

At Kang No’s words, I carefully stepped forward.

“From now on, you’ll keep the key to this door. And if you wish to look around, come in whenever you like. In exchange, tidy things up for me when you visit. I’ve tried organizing this room more than once, but…… for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to set foot in here.”
“I will.”

With that bitter expression, Kang No’s silhouette gradually receded.
Left alone in the chamber.
I took a deep breath and let my gaze sweep slowly across the room.

‘He was skilled in formation arrays and the medical arts. Though he couldn’t cross the second barrier before his neck was severed, following the traces he left behind will prove invaluable to me.’

I couldn’t know what trials awaited me ahead.
So I had to prepare thoroughly, using these remnants as my foundation.
Steeling my resolve, I skirted around the floor tangled with threads and approached the shabby desk.

Scattered across the desk lay countless sheets of paper in disarray.
Most were diagrams of meridian channels and medical records. Each page was filled with meticulous, exquisite brushwork.
After half an hour of absorbed reading, I couldn’t help but marvel repeatedly.

‘A remarkable man……’

Medical arts, formation arrays, and even the Qimen array—his research notes bore the unmistakable marks of genius beyond measure.
Yet gradually, the writing changed.
As I read deeper, the sentences grew more erratic, and his brushstrokes began to waver.

‘Was his health failing…… or did he experience some profound upheaval, as Kang No suggested?’

Tilting my head in puzzlement, I picked up an old sheet of paper that had fallen to the floor.
The ink had faded with age, yet the calculations and array formations written upon it remained vivid.
And stamped in red above them were two characters.

Cheon Cheon.

A completely different energy emanated from that paper compared to the earlier records.
He seemed to have poured all his focus into this research rather than the interpretation of heart methods.

‘Cheon Cheon…… to shift the heavens?’

I grasped the meaning, yet the intent remained elusive.
I furrowed my brow and pondered deeply, but no conclusion emerged.

‘I need to examine his journals more thoroughly.’

For another half hour I combed through the books in the room, but found no answers anywhere.
As I sat at the desk with a heavy heart, a sudden thought flickered across my mind.

‘He was skilled in formation arrays and the Qimen array…… then perhaps.’

I searched every corner of the room anew.
Neither the walls nor the floor revealed anything suspicious.
As I turned away with a sigh, my gaze fell upon the desk.

‘The seat where I’ve sat longest. The space most familiar to me…….’

I too had adjusted the desk height and chair angle countless times to make copying easier and more comfortable.
So would he have.
I hurried over and examined the desk and chair from every angle.
That’s when my eyes caught the left armrest. Unlike the right, its color had faded ever so subtly.
I held my breath and traced the armrest with my fingertips.
Between the rough wood grain, a single faint line continued.

‘……There it is.’

As I pressed carefully, a small click sounded and I felt a latch give way.
The armrest then slid slowly open with a low metallic groan.

Creak—

A secret compartment hidden beneath the desk for years came into view.
Dust erupted all at once, pricking my nostrils, and the smell of rotted paper slowly diffused through the room.

Faded bamboo slips and bundles of papers lay stacked neatly inside.
I swallowed hard and lifted the topmost paper.
Its edges crumbled at the slightest touch.
Yet the script upon it remained sharp.

– To comprehend even a single passage of the Heart method requires time I do not possess. Because of this, my focus dulls, and the terror of death tightens ever more around my throat.
Nightmares relentlessly consume my mind, and exhaustion gnaws at my flesh.
If only time could be shortened…….

The moment I read those words, a chill ran down my spine.
This meant he had desperately researched something—anything—to extend the time given to him.
Below were peculiar calculations and diagrams of hexagrams.
I began studying them for hours.
The intricacy far exceeded what a mere Formation array arrangement should possess.

– The flow of time cannot be stopped. Yet should this Formation array be completed, it may slow time to some degree.

Impossible.
How could a Formation array alone slow time?
I swallowed hard and traced the lines and characters on the paper again and again.
The structure of the threads woven across the paper overlaid in my mind with the Formation array drawn on the floor below.

‘Could such a thing truly be possible…….’

Though incredible, if this Formation array could truly slow the passage of time…….
At least I would no longer flounder in desperation each time I faced another book to decipher.
A life flickering like a lamp in the wind might endure a moment longer.

I stared at the paper and felt my fingertips tingle.
Those faded characters were not mere record—they were the desperate struggle of one man defying the heavens’ will in the grip of death’s terror.

“The atmosphere in this room feels heavy.”

Kang No’s voice came from the doorway—I hadn’t heard him arrive.
I flinched at his words.

“Sir, you’ve come.”
“Heh-heh, so you’ve only just noticed? You stayed in here so long without emerging, I grew concerned.”

Kang No tapped his walking stick against the floor and stepped slowly inside.
Watching him pass between the dozens of threads without once treading on a single one, my skin prickled with dread.

“The ink smell still lingers in the air, I see. And your spirit has grown heavier in that time.”
“……There’s simply much to think about.”
“When that happens, it’s better to move your body than to exhaust your mind.”

Kang No planted his walking staff and spoke.

“Stand up.”
“Pardon?”

I set down my research journal and reluctantly got to my feet.
Kang No approached and tapped the floor with the tip of his staff.

“Half a step back. ……More. That’s enough.”

Despite being blind, I couldn’t fathom how he could pinpoint my exact position and how far I’d stepped back with such uncanny precision.

“Shoulders back.”

Tap.

His staff brushed lightly against my shoulder.

“Spine straight. If your spine bends, your internal force will leak away.”

I instinctively straightened my back.

“Feet shoulder-width apart, right foot half a step back.”

Tap, tap.

The staff’s tip touched my feet lightly.

“I’ve seen plenty of men who do nothing but write ruin their backs and shoulders. If that happens to you, heart methods and martial arts become worthless.”

A laugh escaped me at his unexpected scolding.

“Surely you don’t mean to teach me martial arts just now, do you?”
“Not martial arts, exactly—the foundation needed simply to survive.”

Kang No smiled faintly and continued.

“Your basic posture is the vessel for your internal force. Pour the finest water into a cracked vessel, and it will only leak away.”

He took hold of my arm and gradually adjusted its angle.
Though his eyes were sewn shut, his fingertips were impossibly precise.

“Now, breathe in. Don’t stop at your chest—lower, below your navel, deeper still.”

I drew in a long breath as he instructed.

“Yes. That place is called the Dantian. You likely know this already, but the strength of internal force there tells whether a person lives or dies.”

Kang No placed his palm lightly over my lower abdomen.

“Your force is scattered now, but far better than two days ago. When you were reading the Hwang Jung Maek Gyeong, you were trying to force your internal force to follow the text, weren’t you?”

I looked at him in shock.

“……How did you know?”
“Your meridian channels tell me the truth. They belong to someone who forced himself onto the wrong path and blocked his own way.”

Kang No leaned on his staff again and continued quietly.

“When you read books from now on, whenever you concentrate on anything, first learn to settle your breath and gather your force. That’s the first step to ‘circulating’ your internal force.”

From that day forward, Kang No’s lessons accumulated one by one.
In the mornings I read and copied texts; when the sun began to sink, Kang No would appear without warning.

“Today, let’s practice handling your breath a bit more.”
“Today, feel how your force follows as you move your feet.”

Each time I assumed a posture, his staff would tap lightly against my shoulder, waist, and knees.

“Let your feet press the ground, but lightly—as if standing on sand. Keep your waist steady, not by strength alone, but by gathering your force in your dantian and drawing it upward along your spine.”

They were not grand martial techniques.
Yet to me, they were teachings more precious than anything else.
Even as my limbs grew numb with standing and sweat traced down my spine, Kang No examined my body to the very end.

“Good. Now breathe in. Exhale, and breathe in again.”

As I repeated this pattern, I began to sense something subtle yet unmistakable moving within me.

‘……It’s circulating.’

Not a great river, but a thin rivulet like a capillary.
Yet that tiny stream was gradually becoming continuous.

“Now, one more thing.”

One day, as I was settling my breath, Kang No spoke suddenly.

“Try speaking without opening your mouth wide.”
“Are you referring to Jeon-eum?”

I asked reflexively.

“Yes—Jeon-eum is the foundation of the foundation for anyone who reaches that level. And meeting various skilled practitioners will broaden your perspective. I trust you’ll use it appropriately.”

It was sound reasoning.
Once I agreed, Kang No soon began giving posture instructions.

“First, gather your breath in your dantian the way you’ve been practicing.”

I drew in a deep breath.

“This time, don’t raise that breath into your chest—instead, draw it lightly up the spine and to the back of your neck. Don’t lift your chin too high.”

He gently pressed my chin down with his fingertips.

“Let your lips barely move, and roll the sound only within your throat.”

I followed his instructions exactly.

-……sir.

My own ears heard my voice clearly, yet my lips had barely moved.
Kang No smiled.

“Good. One more time.”

I spoke at greater length this time.

-Sir, at this rate, won’t I actually end up learning martial arts?

The moment I finished, Kang No laughed softly.

“Half success, I’d say. Your force is still weak—sending it far would be difficult—but soon enough you’ll manage a whisper in the ear of someone standing beside you.”

He paused, then added quietly.

“Remember this: martial arts are like a blade, but Jeon-eum is closer to a needle. It can become a weapon to kill an opponent, or it can be a tool to save a life.”

His words lingered with me for some reason.

“Have you taught others this way before, sir?”

I shifted the subject of our conversation.
Kang No fell silent for a moment, then slowly shook his head.

“No. In those days, I didn’t have the leisure of heart for such things. Just as I was opening my heart to approach them, they rejected me first. Such arrogant pride they had. Tsk, tsk.”

He tapped my shoulder as he spoke.

“You were different from them. You treated even this hideous old man with courtesy, and you showed me respect.”

Kang No’s hand pressed down on my shoulder once more.

“Fate is like the wind, you see. No one knows which way it will blow. I don’t know how you’ve lived your life, but in the end, you and I met here in this place, didn’t we?”

Kang No chuckled and continued.

“It’s a harsh world, barely survivable alone. So I didn’t want to lose someone like you.”
“Sir.”

I called out carefully.

“What is it?”
“……Thank you.”

A brief word.
But I poured into it all the gratitude my heart could hold.
Kang No said nothing for a long while.
He struck the ground once with his cane, then smiled quietly.

“……A beautiful sound. I’d like to hear it again.”

From that day forward, an affection between Kang No and me took root and grew, one that was difficult to put into words.
Whenever I grew stuck while reading, I found myself seeking him out, and he would chuckle and answer my questions.

On nights when I studied until dawn, he would say, “You’ll ruin your back,” and force me to straighten my posture. When my internal force tangled and my breath grew short, he would hold my hand and say, “Lower your breathing, then raise it again,” settling my qi.
And at some point, this damp Musimdong ceased to be an entirely unfamiliar place.
From a place where I endured merely to survive, it became a place where I learned in order to live.

At its heart stood an old man who could not see ahead, and beside him, a clumsy young man just beginning to learn the ways of internal force.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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