Chapter 10. The Union of Essence, Energy, and Spirit

Hugong was surprised and tried to step back to avoid it, but the bookshelf was collapsing too fast.

‘Damn it!’

To think his body couldn’t even avoid a collapsing bookshelf.

He curled up his body to minimize the impact.

At that moment, an amazing sight unfolded.

The falling books and bookshelf scattered into fragments of light, passed through his body, and disappeared as they fell to the floor.

‘An illusion.’

Crash!

Then, something else poured down.

When he looked up, this time the ceiling was shattering and pouring down on his head. Hugong didn’t avoid it this time. He just stared blankly at the ashes of the ceiling.

The debris from the ceiling scattered into fragments of light and disappeared, just as the bookshelf had. After the illusion of the ceiling debris passing through his head and body, the same phenomenon occurred on the floor he was standing on.

The floor cracked and scattered like shards of glass.

In an instant, the surrounding scenery changed.

The place where Hugong stood was no longer a study.

All around was covered in white snow.

Heavy snow fell slowly. A chill, as if it were real, crept over him. At some point, his feet were buried in snow up to his ankles.

Hugong looked around and let out a gasp of admiration.

“Oh, so this is why it’s called winter.”

The book titled ‘Winter’ seemed to be the key to activating a formation. The illusionary formation of winter. One that made you enter its scenery.

In the illusion, which was so realistic that it was indistinguishable from reality, the only thing that indicated this was an illusion within a formation was the ‘Winter’ book floating in front of his eyes.

Hugong moved forward.

With each step, the crunching sound of snow echoed realistically.

Mountains were visible in the distance, and snow flowers bloomed on every tree. After crossing a small hill, Hugong came face to face with snowmen.

Three snowmen.

A child snowman was in the middle, with adult snowmen on either side.

The snowmen were connected by branches that looked like hands. It was as if parents were holding their beloved child’s hands on both sides.

The charcoal eyes of the snowmen on either side were smiling at the child.

The child must be Beomhang, and the ones on either side must be his father and mother.

Here, the family looked happy.

“Uh…?”

Suddenly, he felt dizzy and staggered. It was when he was looking at the snowman that looked like Beomhang’s mother. His vision grew distant. Was the snowman moving away? Or was he endlessly moving backward? He couldn’t tell. Then, a light exploded.

Hwaaak~.

His vision turned white, and he squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them, he was standing in a different place.

It was a place he had been to once.

It was the western garden of the Cheonhwa Library.

And this was still within the illusion.

On a large plum blossom tree, plum blossoms were blooming along with snow flowers, undeterred by the cold. A wind blew, and the plum blossom petals broke off and scattered beautifully.

The cold wind brushing against his cheek felt vivid.

There were no snowmen here. Instead, there was a family of three.

Beomhang and his parents. Hugong approached the illusion.

The woman was sitting in a chair, and the middle-aged man next to her was holding her hand.

The woman’s complexion was deeply ill, and her exhaustion was evident everywhere.

She was beyond gaunt; she was emaciated. Her hair was sparse, but it was neatly combed. That made her look even sicker. Her cheeks were so gaunt that her bones seemed to show, and her eyes were deeply sunken, casting shadows.

Beomhang’s mother, her life was fading away.

“To see the plum blossoms bloom… with you… is nice. Soon… spring will come.”

The woman’s voice was slow and barely connected.

The husband smiled at his wife.

“My dear, when spring comes, let’s see the fully bloomed flowers again.”

“We should.”

Then, the woman took Beomhang’s hand.

“My son…”

Tuk.

A plum blossom petal flew in and fell on the young Beomhang’s hand.

“My son… I love you.”

The woman caressed the boy’s hand.

A moment later, the woman’s touch stopped.

Her hand grew colder and colder. Although Hugong was just watching, for some reason, he could feel her body growing cold as if he had become Beomhang.

Beomhang’s eyes welled up with tears.

His vision blurred with tears, and he couldn’t see clearly, so he wiped his eyes with his sleeve. Still, his mother’s image was blurry, so he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shake off the tears. When his eyes quickly filled with tears again and he couldn’t see his mother’s face, Beomhang began to sob.

No matter what he did, he couldn’t see his beautiful mother’s face, which was like a plum blossom. The woman who had been as beautiful as a flower did not see the spring.

Hwaaak.

The scenery swirled like a whirlwind and then unfolded again…

Still within the illusion, in a room in the Cheonhwa Library.

This was ten days after Beomhang’s mother had passed away.

The first thing he saw was the family head’s back.

He was sitting down, dumbfounded.

He was looking at an old man sitting at a desk.

The old man was older than the family head. His hair was all white, his skin was rough, and liver spots, called the flowers of the underworld, had bloomed.

‘That’s Beomhang’s father.’

What had happened?

The man who had sent his wife away had become an old man in ten days.

His hair had turned white overnight, his skin had lost its vitality, and the flowers of death had bloomed. His vitality had been burned away by the sorrow of sending his wife away. He had aged like that and met his death sitting at his desk, holding a brush.

What he had drawn on the paper was a plum blossom.

Plum blossoms scattered on the paper, just like ten days ago.

A phrase was left below it.

– Beomhang… I’m sorry.

“Aaaaaaaahk…”

The old family head wailed.

It was a relief that the old family head, who had lost his daughter-in-law and son in ten days, could at least cry.

Beomhang was standing behind the old family head.

He was curling up one corner of his mouth as he looked at his father’s corpse and his grandfather. His eyes were empty.

Just then, several people rushed into the study.

Uncle Beomgang and his wife, and Yun and Bumong.

Beomhang greeted the four of them.

The four of them froze.

At Beomhang’s incredibly bright smile, the young Bumong didn’t know what was going on and just blinked his eyes repeatedly, but Yun, who was older, was terrified and trembled, stepping back.

Beomhang’s smile was by no means a smile a person should have at that moment.

In an instant, a light exploded in his head, and Hugong lost his balance and staggered.

Everything he saw shattered and scattered, and the surroundings were filled with a white radiance.

In the meantime, numerous scenes flashed through his head like a revolving lantern.

They appeared and disappeared, and voices came close and then faded away repeatedly. His heart pounded and then calmed down, and he was surprised, sad, and then happy.

Hugong inwardly cheered.

‘Ah! The transfer of memories…’

All of this was Beomhang’s.

Beomhang’s memories.

Everything that Beomhang had seen, felt, learned, and known was pouring into his head in a jumbled mess, without any order.

“Young master!”

“Huh?”

At the sudden voice, Hugong looked around.

At some point, he was back in the real study.

In front of him was Songhwa.

Songhwa was holding the ‘Winter’ book in her hand, and her complexion was pale. Her eyes were also welling up with tears, and she looked terrified.

Hugong knew immediately.

Having found and entered the secret space of the formation, Songhwa must have been scared, wondering if his memory had returned.

Hugong asked nonchalantly.

“Songhwa, it’s you.”

“…”

“What’s wrong? Why are you about to cry?”

“Pardon?”

At the blunt question, Songhwa’s eyes widened.

“You must have yawned, right?”

“Pardon? Ah… yes, that’s right. I was tired, so I kept yawning… Yaaawn~.”

Songhwa pretended to yawn, dabbing at the corners of her eyes with her hand and smiling.

‘She’s trying hard.’

Hugong inwardly burst out laughing. But he didn’t show it and put on a displeased expression on the outside.

“Tsk tsk… a grown maiden yawning with her mouth wide open… Anyway, you’re just pretty, there’s nothing I like about you.”

“I’m sorry.”

Even so, Songhwa’s expression was bright, so Hugong clicked his tongue again.

Songhwa was relieved that her master showed his recent tone and attitude even after coming out of the winter formation, but her anxiety remained.

“Young master, are you alright?”

“Of course I’m alright. The formation was activated, and I just went to a snowfield.”

“Uh… so… but… are you alright?”

“What do you mean?”

“Could it be that your lost memory…”

“Are you asking if my memory has returned?”

“…Yes.”

“Well.”

Hugong tilted his head.

Just as Songhwa was looking at him anxiously, wondering what ‘well’ meant.

Hugong staggered, clutched his head, and thrashed about.

“Ugh, my head suddenly… Ugh… Songhwa.”

“Y-young master!”

Just as Songhwa was surprised and didn’t know what to do, Hugong straightened up as if nothing had happened and chuckled.

“Songhwa, what do you think? If my memory were to return, wouldn’t it be something like this?”

“Pardon?”

Songhwa stared blankly, as if she were dumbfounded. To put it into words, her face said, ‘Is this bastard even human?’

“What’s with that expression?”

“Haa… you scared me. Your prank went too far today. Really, I feel like my lifespan is being cut short.”

“I’m sorry.”

Chuckling, Hugong headed to his bedchamber.

One step, and then another.

The method was different, but Beomhang’s memories were now being transferred.

He had thought that if he were to absorb Beomhang’s memories, he would clutch his head and let out a groan, but it wasn’t so.

One step, and then another.

His body felt like it was floating.

With each step, it felt like he was walking on water. No, it wasn’t just a feeling. He saw an illusion of ripples forming every time his foot touched the ground.

“Good night, young master.”

“…”

He got into bed and lay down. He tried to answer Songhwa’s greeting, but for some reason, Hugong couldn’t open his mouth.

His body was so heavy.

His eyes were closing.

Hugong just looked at Songhwa once as a greeting and closed his eyes.

Had the bed turned into the sea?

Had the bed been moved to the sea?

His body was slowly sinking into the water.

Deeply.

I can still breathe, right?

***

At dawn, Hugong woke up early.

He hadn’t slept for many hours, but he felt as refreshed as if he had slept for several days.

His head was clear, and his body felt as light as a feather.

‘It’s done.’

Through the transfer of memories, his essence (精), energy (氣), and spirit (神) had united.

The separate soul and body had finally merged.

The new body, which had been out of sync, became one with his consciousness like a perfectly fitting garment. His high consciousness and deep, sublime enlightenment melted into the body, opening his dantian and creating a framework for his internal energy to settle in his eight extraordinary meridians.

Originally, cultivation arts were based on consciousness and enlightenment, which then affected the body. In that sense, this new body, which had become one with Hugong’s consciousness, had to have a different starting point.

And the start was the only problem; reaching his original level was just a matter of time. Hugong had already walked that path and achieved it.

Therefore, the beginning could be said to be the end.

At the earliest, five years.

At the latest, ten years. Within that time, he would be able to reach his original level. If he received the help of spiritual medicines, spiritual herbs, and spiritual creatures, the time would be much shorter.

In that respect, the Cheonhwa Library was the optimal place.

It was their spirit that was failing, not the wealth of the Cheonhwa Library.