The Elixir Already Has an Owner (1)

By the time I returned home, news of the Yangso Clan had already reached us.

"It's hard to believe,"

Father said, his voice heavy with mixed emotions. He seemed deeply disturbed by the fact that the Yangso Clan's leader had tried to hire mercenaries to kill our family. Even though I had been in danger, he had probably never imagined vengeance would take such a turn.

"He was far more wicked than we ever thought. If not for internal conflict between him and that man called Bloodhound, we might have met a terrible end."

Father simply nodded silently at my words.

Mother, on the other hand, couldn't hide her joy.

"Heaven truly watched over us! What a blessing."

"Yes, Mother. It really is."

At that moment, Father suddenly spoke up.

"Still, we must repay our debt to the Yangso Clan."

"Yes, Father."

I had expected him to say that. He wouldn't think of it as a debt owed to Yang Gicheol personally, but to the Yangso Clan as a whole.

But in truth, there would be no need to repay it. I had already told Jeong Yeo, the new clan leader, not to collect the debt. I even explained a specific excuse he could use — that since the Yangso Clan had tried to attack us first, he would refuse the repayment as a way of settling that sin.

Jeong Yeo wasn't a fool. Even if he didn't use that exact reasoning, he would surely find another way to decline the money.

"And this... I've read it well."

I returned the secret manual of the Baekwol Sword Art to my father.

"How was your training?"

"I believe I made a bit of progress."

"That's good to hear."

He probably hadn't expected too much after only a few days of training, but he must have taken the mere fact that I was trying as something meaningful.

Mother looked at me with a warm smile.

"Son."

"Yes?"

"You're… really okay, right?"

A short question — but filled with many layers of meaning. He was glad about my change, but at the same time, he must have been worried.

"Of course. I'm doing better than ever."

"Good."

"Then I'll take my leave now."

As I turned to go, I looked back at him.

"I hope this incident hasn't weighed too heavily on you… Father."

Was it because he was being comforted by his son for the first time in a long while?

A flash of emotion passed across Father's face.

But in truth, the one truly moved was me.

Because that was the first time I had ever called anyone Father.

In my previous life, I had no father.

Mother had raised me alone since I was a child.

So I had never once spoken the word Father to anyone.

"Go and rest."

"Yes, Father."

Once I had said it out loud… it wasn't as difficult as I thought.

And just like that, I returned to my daily life.

* * *

There were two main things I needed to focus on now: Taking care of myself, and taking care of my family. I decided to start with what I could do right away.

The next day, I went to see Seojung.

He was just coming out after training the sword unit when he spotted me — his expression showed surprise.

"What brings you here?"

His gaze was noticeably softer than before.

Because of my recent actions, he was probably beginning to see me in a new light.

Most of all, the incident where I saved Gwangdu from Yang Gikang must have played a crucial role.

"Please accept this."

"What is this?"

What I handed over was 3,000 nyang — part of the 32,000 nyang I had taken from Yang Gicheol.

When he checked the promissory note, his eyes widened, and he looked back at me in shock.

"What's this money for?"

"It's the money I've saved up," I replied.

"What?"

He looked at me with disbelief. Of course he would — for someone with a reputation like mine, having that much money probably seemed suspicious.

"I was saving it up to give to a girl I liked."

But I said it so nonchalantly that Seojung wavered, half-believing me. Considering how much money I'd wasted from the family in the past, he probably thought it was at least possible I had that kind of amount lying around. Honestly, I wanted to give more, but 3,000 nyang felt like the most reasonable sum under the circumstances.

"And why are you giving it to me?"

"Please use it to reorganize the sword unit. Raise their wages, and recruit new members if necessary."

Seojung was more shocked by that than by the money itself. Sure, 3,000 nyang was a large sum — but what truly surprised him was the purpose behind it.

"Do you think we stayed because of the money?"

"I know that's not the case. But that doesn't mean their families should suffer because of it, right?"

"Why didn't you give this to the head of the family? Why bring it to me directly?"

"I'm guessing… you wouldn't accept money from Father."

Seojung flinched — I had read him exactly.

He was a man of deep loyalty. Even if Father handed him money and told him to reorganize the unit, Seojung would most likely refuse, saying the family's debts should be paid off first. He believed he could manage the unit on his own somehow.

"You and the Sword Unit are the core of our main house. If either of you falls, the family falls with you."

"What nonsense is that? The head of the family is the true core!"

He scolded me sternly, but despite his harsh tone, he couldn't hide the emotion on his face.

Just like my parents, Seojung had likely never imagined hearing such words from a good-for-nothing like me.

"Will you accept my intention, then?"

After a brief moment of thought, Seojung finally nodded.

"Can you promise — as a man and a warrior — that this money will be used only for the Sword Unit?"

He was testing to see if I'd hand the money over to Father in the end.

"I swear it."

I bowed deeply, putting sincerity into the gesture.

"Thank you so much, Master Seojung."

As I turned to leave, Seojung called out behind me.

"Dana."

"Yes?"

"…Thank you."

I smiled at him. Just like with Gwangdu, there was no need to say much. He would come to understand with time — he would see everything for himself.

From the next day onward, the atmosphere in the Sword Unit became noticeably more lively.

Even though I wasn't officially part of the unit, I could feel the shift. The martial artists I passed greeted me with smiles.

They had already warmed to me after the incident with Yang Gigang, but now they had learned that the money used for their recent bonuses came from me.

Knowing Seojung's personality, he would have made sure to disclose exactly where the funds came from.

As the mood of the Sword Unit improved, the entire household seemed to brighten as well.

Even the rumors about me began to change.

At first, people whispered that my behavior was just the calm before another massive storm — a prelude to some reckless incident.

But now… there were hushed discussions that maybe, just maybe, I had truly changed.

I also heard that a notice had been posted to recruit new members for the Sword Unit.

Three thousand nyang might not be enough to dramatically expand the unit, but it was enough to bring in at least twenty more skilled fighters.

The increase in overall strength was certainly important, but more than anything, morale had skyrocketed. For the first time in a long while, life returned to the Baek Clan's Sword Sect.

Upon hearing the news, my mother gave me quite the scolding, demanding to know where I'd gotten such a large sum of money. But in the end, she had no choice but to believe my explanation. After all, I'd been behaving admirably lately — what else could she do?

The next day, Mother hosted a small banquet, inviting the ladies of nearby martial households. It had been a long time since such an event, and she apparently took full advantage of the opportunity to boast about her son. She didn't forget to mention how I had donated money to support the Sword Unit, either. Of course, the story had changed a little — instead of being savings meant for a woman, it had now become a fund I had been quietly setting aside for the sake of the clan's warriors.

Even while tending to the household matters, I did not neglect my physical training and martial arts practice.

Thanks to my wholehearted efforts, my body was gradually transforming. The soft fat was melting away, and solid muscle was starting to take its place.

As expected, the real issue was my internal energy.

The true essence of the Chuhon Surak Sword Technique lay in its final three techniques.

The problem?

The fourth stance required one gapja's worth of internal energy.

The fifth stance demanded two gapja.

The sixth and final stance took three gapja.

So I set my initial goal at one gapja.

I wasn't even daring to aim for two or three right now.

If I could just reach the fourth stance, Talhongup — even that alone would give me a trump card to rely on.

Most martial artists of high rank could already overwhelm their opponents using just the first three stances.

Still, one could never be too careful.

I spent every waking moment — excluding time for sleep — channeling internal energy through the Cheonmu Hoshim Formula.

Yet the amount of inner power I accumulated was woefully insufficient.

The Cheonmu Hoshim Formula did allow me to cultivate energy about three times faster than ordinary internal techniques.

But even with that, it would normally take twenty years of pure training to build up one gapja of internal energy.

At this rate, there was only one viable solution.

"I'll have to break through the Ren and Du meridians somehow."

If I could open up the Ren and Du channels — known as Imdok Yangmaek — my cultivation speed would triple again.

That would cut the time required for one gapja from twenty years to just seven.

Given that I already had the internal strength equivalent to five years, and assuming I could obtain a potent elixir to help break through the channels, with the added internal energy from the elixir, it was possible I could achieve one gapja within two to three years.

But I needed a special elixir to help open those meridians.

I had heard tales of an age when such elixirs were abundant.

But that was in the past.

In this current era, elixirs were incredibly rare and precious.

The only reason I had once reached four gapja of internal energy in my past life was because I had been the Lord of the Martial Alliance — and that had come only after fighting a life-or-death war against the Demonic Cult and the unorthodox sects.

It would've been ideal if I could obtain legendary elixirs like the Great Rejuvenation Pill or the Ten-Thousand-Year Snow Ginseng.

But with the amount of money I had, that was simply impossible.

Such rare elixirs weren't just hard to find — even if someone was willing to sell them, the price would be astronomical.

They could easily go for hundreds of thousands, even millions of nyang.

These weren't items that ever circulated in the open market.

Could I possibly find the elixir I needed with 29,000 nyang?

Maybe… it wasn't entirely out of the question.

What I required wasn't some mythical relic. I just needed an elixir capable of opening my Ren and Du meridians and giving me the equivalent of ten years' worth of inner energy.

I'd never had to buy such things myself before — I was always given them.

So I didn't actually know the going rate for these kinds of pills.

29,000 nyang.

Would that be enough?

***

Two days later, I stepped into a certain building in Jinan.

This place was the Jinan Branch of the Black Market.

There was a saying in the martial world:

"If something doesn't exist in the Black Market, it doesn't exist in all of Jianghu."

It functioned much like a marketplace for trading rare items of Jianghu.

In the past, it even dealt with stolen goods — hence the name "Black Market".

But in recent times, it had stepped into the light, trading only in goods with verified origins.

The one who played the biggest role in this transformation was Galsaryang, the Chief Strategist of the Black Market.

While overseeing its operations, he also gathered a wealth of information.

After all, the flow of wealth often told a more reliable story than rumors ever could.

Thanks to him, I knew the ins and outs of the Black Market quite well — Where they operated, how they ran things, and how to make use of them.

There were three Black Market branches in the entire Shandong region, and the largest among them was this one — the Jinan Branch.

I had told others I was heading out to "get some fresh air for a few days" and then rode straight here.

I considered bringing Gwangdu along, but given the nature of this business, I figured it was best to come alone.

When I told the martial artist guarding the entrance that I was here to buy elixirs, I was led to a well-furnished guest reception room deeper inside.

A servant brought me tea and then left.

I didn't touch the tea.

Back when I was still the leader of the martial world, people often asked me this:

"What's the secret to surviving a long time in Jianghu?"

My answer had always been the same:

"Be cautious — always be cautious."

That had to become a habit.

There was a time when I was relentlessly targeted by assassins. The most formidable among them were those who had mastered patience to its very limits. What they waited for was just one thing — a single moment of carelessness.

You could get it right ninety-nine times, but they'd be there to strike the hundredth time — when you think, "Surely, not this time."

Want to live long? Then never lower your guard — not even at the very end.

Just then, the door opened and in stepped an elderly man wearing an extravagant long robe.

"You came for an elixir?" he asked.

From the force he exuded, I could immediately sense he was a high-level master.

I couldn't read people as sharply or precisely as I once did, but I still had a feel for it.

This old man was either the person in charge of this branch or someone with authority close to that.

No surprise — among all the martial-world goods sold here, elixirs likely held the greatest value.

"What kind are you looking for? Pills? Herbs? Pellets?"

"Anything will do."

"Are you running an errand for someone?"

I had my face covered with a bamboo hat and veil, so he couldn't see me. And I'd also disguised my voice — just a little. Best to handle a matter like this discreetly.

Back in the early days of leading the Murim Alliance, I often wore face masks and learned how to modulate my voice. Thanks to that training, I could now imitate several different voices.

The one I was using now was just one of them.

"No."

"A capable young man, I see. So… have you been here before?"

"No."

Even with my curt replies, the old man kept asking questions. And I had a pretty good idea why.

In the old days, this was exactly how we gauged people—by making them talk.

Back then, the black market was a dangerous place.

Not just the merchandise, but the customers themselves could be threats.

This kind of small talk was a subtle probe—meant to measure character and risk.

From his manner, I could tell this old man had worked here for a very long time.

I answered all his questions without showing irritation. Each answer was short, but that didn't seem to bother him. In fact, he looked pleased.

"Young people these days… few are as polite as you."

I didn't humor him for compliments. I answered because once a transaction is opened, there might be a next time. It was better to leave a good impression for the future.

"You're quite lucky," the old man added.

"For the past six months, our branch hasn't received a single elixir."

So it really was an era where elixirs were nearly extinct.

"But just two days ago, an elixir finally came in."

"What kind is it?"

"A Thousand-Year Parayang Grass (Cheonnyeon Parayangcho)."

Thousand-Year Parayang Grass! An extremely rare spiritual herb known to grant anywhere from ten to fifteen years' worth of inner energy—exactly what I had been looking for.

"How much?"