Chapter 7: Conversation Among Beggars
A sack of rice weighed approximately seven gwan.
Even a sturdy adult male would tremble after lifting about three of them.
During the last test, the standout porter had managed to lift four sacks of rice.
Even that feat had people gasping in awe.
Even Head Escort Jang had fussed, saying they should raise that lad as a full escort.
But today.
"Up we go."
Some kid had just lifted six sacks of rice all at once.
Supporting a stack of rice sacks taller than himself with his thin arms.
Not only the people taking the test, but also the spectators near the training ground, were left slack-jawed.
"Wow."
"How does a body that small have that kind of strength?"
"Did he learn martial arts or something?"
To someone unaware, it was easy to mistake that for the power of qi.
But Eun Hwaran, who had heard the escorts talking, knew it wasn't that.
That was innate strength—raw physical power. What they called an uncut gem.
"Trading Lord, did you just see that?"
But there were others excited by Mujin’s impressive display.
Namely the escorts, Yangjo and Yangwi, who had just come back beaten up by the boy.
"Look at that dumb brute strength!"
"We didn’t lose for nothing, you know?"
They jumped out, eager to chime in.
Perhaps to vent their frustration and to argue for lighter salary cuts.
Eun Hwaran glanced at the two with disbelief before turning her gaze back to the boy standing tall in the training yard.
Maybe he had washed up before coming, as the grime of his beggar days had been scrubbed off.
When he swept back his hair with the handkerchief the examiner had handed him, a delicate jawline and a gem-like face were revealed.
Women in the crowd gasped in admiration.
"Oh my."
"Not bad at all..."
"Still a bit young, though."
Chattering that they came out for a walk and stumbled upon something pleasant. Among them were even wives of merchants, making Eun Hwaran think they were quite shameless.
Still, even she agreed that if he grew up well, he’d probably break a few hearts.
"Hwang Noya sure picked up an interesting kid."
That kind of raw strength at that young age. And talent enough to take down two third-rate martial artists without ever learning martial arts.
And didn’t he also ask for a job and room and board?
"Don’t tell me he plans to make him his disciple...?"
Talking about killing him and whatnot—turns out he meant to properly raise the kid while he stayed here.
Just now, in her mind, the boy’s value tier had gone up.
"Was it Dan Mujin? I’ll have to keep an eye on him."
For now, he’d be put to menial work as requested.
Eun Hwaran tapped her palm with her fan in intrigue.
The eyes of a merchant who assessed the value of people and goods would not leave the boy for a long while.
The porter’s mornings started early.
They would rise at the beginning of the Chen hour, just as dawn broke, and start hauling heavy escort goods without rest.
With no special skill involved, it was a job of nonstop hauling until sunset—a role that, in yagada terms, would be like a grunt porter.
"A kid that small working as a porter?"
Eunseong Escort Agency was preparing for its third escort run, having failed the previous two.
The main task was receiving escort goods while traveling through Beijing and transporting them to the trading company.
I worked so hard that sweat poured like rain. After all, it wasn’t easy to get this job.
"My word."
"That tiny thing’s strong as an ox."
I proved my worth with results against skeptical gazes.
Then the people at the escort agency began to acknowledge me as one of the porters.
It was nice to be recognized, but they didn’t cut me any slack just because I was young—they gave me the same workload.
Thanks to that, I had to throw my body into work like I was back doing yagada after a long time.
Every time I tried to sneak off and rest somewhere, some foreman-like bastard—the janggwe—would pop out like a ghost and yell at me to get back to work.
"This damn porter job."
In martial arts novels, porters seemed like those third-rate extras who get wiped out by bandits.
But once I stepped into the role myself, I realized it came with its own share of toil and sorrow.
"I’ve got to make a name for myself soon... maybe become a wanderer or a troubleshooter or something."
Endless physical labor. I felt like a child laborer in the industrial age.
And so, as the sun set during the Xu hour, the Head Escort declared the end of the day.
It was the upside of living in a world with no electric lights. I dragged myself back home.
Though I called it home, it was really just a basic dorm for third-class escorts and porters—barely enough to keep out the wind and rain.
Just some straw piled up haphazardly, with rags spread over it to sleep on.
But even that didn’t allow for a long rest.
By midnight, I had to sneak out and chant strange verses with Hwang Noya under the starlight.
After doing this routine for about fifteen days—
"Damn it! I can’t live like this!"
—I mentally snapped.
Abandoned twice by my own blood.
Still, I had found a new backer, so I thought my life was finally looking up.
But what the hell was this?
"Heehee, you liked it at first, didn’t you?"
Hwang Noya grinning in front of my nose with his yellowed teeth.
"I’m glad to have a job, sure... but can’t I at least sleep?"
To be honest, the work itself was tough, but I could somehow manage.
There were times when the sky turned black, or I saw double, but as long as I didn’t die, I’d be fine.
But this sleep deprivation was the real problem. Only three hours of sleep with full-time labor? That was basically torture.
"So, have you memorized the incantations I taught you?"
"You mean those airy, nonsensical ramblings?"
Supposedly, these were the mental incantations from the cultivation method of some hidden master.
Hwang Noya had been drilling them into me, saying they would suppress my rising urge to kill.
"Yes, you punk."
Every time I forgot the lines, he’d flick me on the forehead so hard my skull rattled, so I had no choice but to memorize them.
Seongnyeong Hoilche 星聆懷溢體 (Embracing the stars in the sky, one lights up the world.)
Sujeon Gipase 隨天起把世 (All things flow in accordance with the laws of heaven.)
Suchojeokjugaejin 隨處作主皆眞 (Thus, the world finds stability, and one gains freedom.)
That was the beginning portion of the incantation. The more I heard it, the more vague and cryptic it sounded.
They said only by interpreting the essence within and grasping the ultimate meaning could one truly learn this martial art.
Since martial arts were essentially the foundation of each sect, it was common for them to secure them with multiple layers of protection.
That must be why the existence of a master was considered indispensable.
"I’ve memorized some of it, but what exactly is this incantation from the cultivation method?"
Controlling the organs and all, and what's with the Seven Star Lords and the Big Dipper Lords—why does chanting these verses feel like I’m cultivating the Tao?
If this weren’t the Central Plains Murim, I’d have already shouted ‘I don’t believe in that crap’ and bolted.
"You brat, have you ever heard the alias Divine Wind Daoist?"
When I asked what this cultivation method really was, Hwang Noya suddenly threw out a strange alias.
But it was a name I recognized. Even someone inexperienced in the ways of the Jianghu like Murong Cheongjin had heard it once.
"Isn’t that really Blusterous Wind Daoist? A madman who claimed to be a Daoist and went around the Central Plains doing all sorts of crazy things?"
I got excited because I finally knew some Murim trivia and started rambling a bit. But Hwang Noya’s expression began to sour.
"That’s me."
"..."
Well, shit.
My life seems to step on nothing but anti-tank mines.
I swallowed dryly and hurried to patch things up.
"Ahem, it seems some ignorant laypeople mistook an enlightened Daoist’s actions as eccentric..."
"It’s already too late, you punk."
Yeah, damn, too late.
I clammed up like a turtle to avoid making things worse.
Then Hwang Noya gave a dry chuckle and silently stroked his beard.
"My name is Hwang Geolgae. I was once a member of the Beggars’ Union."
He began his story while brushing the dust off his tattered robe.
No wonder he had that weird beggar vibe despite being a master.
"For the record, I was quite a prominent Beggars’ Union member back then."
He said this while picking dried squid meat from his teeth.
"Then one day, while struggling to break through a wall, I fell into Qi Deviation."
The wall likely referred to the ‘wall of enlightenment’ martial artists faced upon reaching a certain level.
It was said that failure often led to inner demons, and sometimes, madness.
"I coughed up blood at the Seventh Aperture. I thought I’d die so meaninglessly... when a mysterious Daoist with the demeanor of a celestial being appeared before me."
Hwang Noya described it as one of the rare ‘miraculous encounters’ in his life.
Thanks to the Daoist’s help, he survived and used that crisis as a stepping stone to reach a higher realm.
"After that, I also pursued the Tao, hoping to understand myself and the principles of all things, so I left the Beggars’ Union."
But what good would it do if a beggar suddenly started pretending to be a Daoist? The tales of Blusterous Wind Daoist’s eccentricities spread because of that.
At first, thinking the Tao was embedded in martial arts, he stormed various Daoist sects demanding their martial arts techniques.
"But if you leave your sect and start learning other martial arts like that, don’t they cripple your meridians or something?"
In wuxia novels, that’s when someone screams, ‘That bastard stole our sect’s secrets!’ and they go around abolishing Dantians and such.
The Murim folks here seemed to take such rules very seriously.
"Of course they do."
"You seem to be doing fine though?"
"Well, I was the Dragon Head Sect Leader of the Beggars’ Union. No one dared to try cutting me off."
He quietly showed me the nine knots on his belt.
"..."
You’ve got to be kidding me. Is he saying he was the head of the whole organization and still bailed?
I stared at Hwang Noya in disbelief.
"Anyway, the incantation you memorized is part of the mysterious Taoist inner cultivation method that saved me from inner demons back then."
Finally getting to the point—Hwang Geolgae, the Dragon Head Sect Leader of the Nine Sects One Gang.
"So that’s what it was?"
I answered in a slightly humbled tone.
"...Your speech has straightened out."
"I’m usually quite polite, you know."
Hwang Geolgae chuckled mockingly.
Still, someone of his stature personally offering me a cultivation method?
Could this be... a miraculous encounter? Will I finally be able to run across water or slice mountains with a single sword thanks to the mysterious energy stored in my Dantian?
Martial arts without inner power were just martial skills. When paired with inner strength, even a regular punch could shatter stone.
"Can you see those stars in the night sky?"
But instead of explaining the method, Hwang Geolgae suddenly pointed at the dusky heavens.
I followed his fingertip and scanned the cluster of stars. So many of them, gazing loftily upon the earth below.
"There were countless stars."
"The Daoist who saved me was one who trained to embody the power of the stars."
They say the Murim is full of madmen, but here’s someone aiming to embody something they can’t even touch.
I nearly scoffed at the ridiculous story.
Then I suddenly realized I was the one destined to embody that star power.
Oh shit.
"The name of the martial art you’re about to learn is Starfall Heart Cultivation Method."
It sounded cool. That was as far as my thoughts went, since I didn’t understand what it meant.
I looked slightly expectant, waiting for Hwang Geolgae’s next words.
"If you fail to master this properly, you will die."
"..."
Mood instantly killed.
Forget miraculous encounter—why does death keep popping up?
"Hey, I said I’d live virtuously—why do you keep saying I’ll die?"
"You brat, I’m not the one killing you..."
Hwang Geolgae jabbed my forehead again.
"It means you’ll be devoured by the Heaven-Slaying Star inside you."
The mention again caused that ominous red mist to start rising, like it was offended.
"I’ve been watching you for the past fortnight. Slowly but surely, the Evil Star has been regaining its strength. If left unchecked, your consciousness will eventually be consumed. That would be your death, and the Heaven-Slaying Star’s rebirth."
A sudden declaration of a death timer.
Why is my life difficulty so unfairly high? I looked up at the night sky adorned with stars.
Yuan Shi Tian Zun, Taishang Laojun, Amitabha—damn it.
Will you forsake this body?
"But even if the sky falls, there’s always a way out."
Still, it seems I wasn’t fated to die just yet.
Even if he didn’t let me sleep and made me suffer, Hwang Geolgae was offering me a path to survival.
"What is it?"
"It’s the power of the Starfall Heart Cultivation Method. Qi nurtured under starlight carries sacred energy that wards off demons."
So if I wanted to live, Hwang Geolgae advised me to fill my body with that anti-demonic Qi.
Under the starlight piercing through the clouds, he exuded dense inner strength filled with virtuous energy.
The red mist, summoned earlier, slithered back into my body like it was fleeing.
"Oh."
A gasp slipped from my lips. So that’s the power of the Starfall Heart Cultivation Method.
So the energy filled with demonic qi or killing intent in the Heaven-Slaying Star was directly opposed to this pure, virtuous qi?
To think I’d be filling my body with such refined qi.
It felt like the dream of prolonging my life was finally within reach.
"Moreover, you must avoid accumulating karma from killing and instead cultivate virtuous deeds to prevent the Heaven-Slaying Star from growing further."
Cultivate virtuous deeds, huh.
Come to think of it, every time I helped the beggar kids in the back alleys, the Heaven-Slaying Star’s energy would jab at me like it was asking what the hell I was doing.
So that’s why it always acted displeased.
"If I do all that, can I avoid being devoured by the Heaven-Slaying Star and survive?"
"Probably. But it won’t be easy."
So I had to train in the Starfall Heart Cultivation Method to protect my mind, and accumulate good deeds to weaken the Heaven-Slaying Star.
"Even if it’s not easy, I’ve got to try."
"Exactly. Because if you fail, I’ll be the one to kill you first."
Seriously, why does he keep threatening death? It's really unnerving.
"By the way, what’s the standard for a virtuous deed?"
Doing good just to survive—can that truly be called virtuous when the intent is impure?
Some Buddhists said even stepping on grass was bad karma. Good and evil often flipped depending on perspective.
So what exactly defines right and wrong?
"Your own conscience."
Unexpectedly, Hwang Geolgae answered firmly.
"My conscience?"
"You’re the one housing the Heaven-Slaying Star, and the vessel for the cultivation method. Naturally, you’ll be the standard too."
Stars too distant to reach, and the sacred energy they hold—how could they be governed by man-made laws and morals?
Since it all attached to me, the one to decide its measure must also be me—so said Hwang Geolgae.
But this method had a critical flaw.
"What if I were an utter bastard?"
Like someone who didn’t feel guilty about murder or robbery—a guy with a conscience made of stone.
"If that were the case, you’d already be lying headless in that alley."
Hwang Geolgae grinned and made a throat-slitting gesture.
Scary as hell.
"But since you took care of orphans in place of the Beggars’ Union, I figure you’re not that kind of trash. Or am I wrong?"
Ah, Ochil and Ilhong. And the little ones.
In the end, they even started grabbing merchants by the legs to beg for money on their own.
They had a system to share the earnings equally, so if I just raised them a little more, it felt like I could profit effortlessly.
But hey, wasn’t it thanks to me teaching them how to beg and fending off rival gangs?
"...You did it out of kindness, right?"
Maybe my expression looked shady—Hwang Geolgae narrowed his brows and asked again.
"Of course."
It’s a chaotic world. Only those with flexible morals can enjoy both virtue and financial gain.
My conscience was reasonably rounded.
"Good. Then from now on, I shall pass down the essence and secrets of the Starfall Heart Cultivation Method. Listen reverently."
Gone was his usual drunken face—Hwang Geolgae now wore a solemn expression as he signaled the start of training.
"But aren’t you going to teach me any martial arts besides the cultivation method?"
Why else did martial artists go crazy accumulating inner qi? So they could actually use it.
If I only learned the inner cultivation method, it’d be like hoarding money in a vault and never spending a dime.
"Enough of that. How could I teach killing techniques to someone hosting the Heaven-Slaying Star?"
Unbelievable. I thought I had earned his trust.
Murim really was a trust-starved world.
"Even this Starfall Heart Cultivation Method is a miraculous opportunity. So stop complaining and offer a proper bow before the transmission."
He tapped the ground as he spoke.
"A bow?"
"The Nine Bows Ritual. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of it?"
Hwang Geolgae explained it as a way of showing respect and propriety—nine formal bows.
Normally, you only did it once, but since the Starfall Heart Cultivation Method was so valuable, he wanted me to do them all.
"Heh heh, go on then."
Whatever, it didn’t cost money. I could do it.
I slammed my forehead to the ground like I was collecting New Year’s cash, then stood back up.
"Ugh."
But from all the hard porter work, my legs were trembling nonstop.
Those janggwe bastards—because I was strong, they made me work even harder. Didn’t pay more, just dumped more tasks. Classic exploitative job.
I really should quit this porter gig someday.
"Urgh."
A groan escaped my lips as I stood. Repetitive manual labor really did drain your soul.
And to think I used to do somewhat intellectual work like being a troubleshooter or self-proclaimed detective.
Now that I thought about it—if I got back to troubleshooting, couldn’t I help people and rack up virtuous deeds at the same time?
I’d earn their gratitude and get paid, too. A win-win.
No wonder it felt like a calling.
"How could the will of man bear the weight of stars accumulated over billions of years? And yet—you must."
While I was bowing, Hwang Geolgae threw out something that sounded like a blessing—or maybe a curse.
"If you can’t, I’ll take your life myself. And if you ever use the martial arts I teach for wicked purposes, I’ll personally end you."
I swear I’ve heard him threaten to kill me like ten times by now.
"Yeah... let’s just stop here."
The mood to keep bowing totally disappeared, so I stopped after two.
Then the old man stared at me with disbelief at my two-bow ritual.
"What the hell? Why’d you stop?"
Like it was a funeral or something, he asked with a stunned face why I stopped at two.
"I mean, we’re not officially master and disciple, you’re not even teaching me proper martial arts, and you keep threatening to kill me—how can I bow to you nine times?"
I have feelings too.
If you trample on my emotions like this, I’ll stop being polite and turn into a total thug.
"You brat, it feels incomplete. Just do one more."
"Nope."
Given the time and place, I guess Hwang Geolgae felt more uncomfortable than I expected.
"...Well, I suppose I could teach you a movement technique."
He muttered, thinking that much would be okay.
You mean that ghost-like movement technique?
Before he could change his mind, I prostrated myself immediately.
"Please accept my bow."