First Disciple, Sagong Hui
Gate Sealed.
The official reason was an outbreak of plague.
In truth, fewer than twenty people had actually fallen ill, but each victim’s flesh rotted, pus burst forth, and they died writhing in agony.
Travelers to Mount Wudang ceased entirely, and Wudang Sect’s warriors did not descend for some time. Word of misfortune within the mountain spread, but inquiries yielded nothing concrete.
“No matter how high the order comes from, sending people straight into a plague zone… isn’t that too much?”
Lower-rank warriors ordinarily handled investigations, and fear of dying from plague was natural. Even Beggars Union informants shunned gathering intel on Wudang until the outbreak subsided. For a full month, the sect endured unprecedented hardship.
About a month passed.
It had been a month since Wudang Sect’s prison collapsed, and those who had never fallen ill finally descended.
Officially their mission was to publicize the sect’s internal situation far and wide, but in reality they had another task.
“Sir, the number of prisoners we locked up and the number of fiends we found—two are missing.”
For an entire month they scoured Mount Wudang, gathered the corpses of Celestial Blossom fiends, burned every trace of the plague to disinfect the mountain—and they discovered two fugitives.
“They were clearly mother and daughter! The mother was a peerless beauty, but the daughter’s face was covered in sores as if already stricken by Celestial Blossom!”
“We found the presumed husband’s body halfway down the mountain. He must have slipped and fallen while fleeing our warriors. His corpse was horribly twisted …”
“We traced the fugitives’ identities, but the papers were forged. The disciple who checked … sob … was murdered by those fiends’ hands!”
The Daoist masters of Wudang Sect were thrown into chaos.
If those two women—possibly infected—hid in some cave and reemerged, the plague could flare again and poison all of Hubei.
They had to be found.
After a month of fruitless searching inside the mountain, the elders finally turned their eyes outward.
“We must find those women. If plague-stricken fugitives escaped the mountain, Wudang Sect will never hold its head high in the Central Plains again.”
Seizing on the sect’s confusion, warriors set out to hunt the women’s trail. With only the faintest clues, they stumbled into the unexpected.
“Is this what you’re calling food?!”
One woman lay dead and buried on a sunlit slope, and her daughter—Sagong Hui—had been forced to cook for a youth younger than herself.
“You call the mountain’s wild greens worthless? How many piles of ash have we made already? At this rate the whole mountain will be blackened!”
“I-I’m sorry, Young Master!”
“Damn it, see for yourself! See how a proper dish is made!”
“Y-Yes …!”
Warriors glared as they searched for the woman. Sagong Hui stood in the kitchen beside the youth, sweat dampening her brow but a faint smile on her lips.
“Did you see it? Now it’s your turn. Move the chopsticks so the salt seeps through evenly. Channel heat through spiraling motions and stir-fry in the oil!”
“I’m sorry, Young Master. My inner strength is so meager I could not fully grasp your technique …”
“ARGH!!”
The youth shrieked and panted. His fists, swinging at empty air, bore the imprint of a martial king’s mastery, yet Sagong Hui looked on as if he were merely venting his frustration to the void.
“Ah, these greens taste good. As expected of the Young Master.”
“Damn it! Samgu, where are you?!”
The youth despaired.
“This girl has never so much as washed her hands before! We’re doomed!”
Chewing nervously.
“Senior, this way.”
A sharp- featured official in inspection robes, wearing a ‘Censor’ badge, pointed to the gate of Hubei Province. The weary adjutant beside him, exhausted from their long journey, indicated an inn just outside the walls.
“Drink.”
“We cannot. We must first pay respects to the Prefect of Hubei.”
“But we have no appointment. A quick rest won’t matter. What’s so urgent?”
“Because we are already very late.”
The Censor frowned and pointed at the masked warriors coming and going through the gate.
“If the Demonic Sect deliberately spread Celestial Blossom, this is treason against the state.”
“You always jump to extremes.”
“There is a saying: if you fail to prepare, you prepare to fail. … Hmm? Senior, look.”
The Censor watched Wudang Sect’s warriors propping lanterns along the road. They approached without masks and recoiled at the sight of the Censor and adjutant.
“In these times and you dare go unmasked?”
“Sir, they are searching for missing women.”
The Censor and adjutant studied the lanterns. The warriors backed away in alarm.
“Looks like the plague really did spread. We too must wear masks before entering the city.”
“They even say not to remove them for a moment. By the way, this disappearance case—doesn’t it sound intriguing?”
The Censor’s eyes gleamed as he gestured at the warriors’ lanterns.
“Missing mother and daughter—doesn’t that smell like a conspiracy?”
“I’ve gone days without properly washing. This stench is unbearable.”
“…… ”
Looking back on my life, it was nothing but drudgery.
As the discarded young master of House Baek, I survived on stagnant water infested with insects and day-old rice in a storage room worse than a servant’s quarters. If I didn’t do the menial work myself, I got nothing.
Even as a third-rate warrior’s disciple in the orthodox sect, I had to tend to my senior brothers while practicing martial arts.
I kowtowed to those younger than me but of higher rank, and in truth I was no more than a caretaker who knew a few techniques.
As a lackey in the Demonic Sect, homelessness and self-sufficiency were the norm.
Lackeys received no supplies under the pretext that passion alone sufficed, so I learned to provide food, clothing, and shelter for myself.
‘I refuse to live that way again!’
After regression, I ran away to live without so much as wetting my own hands.
And the youth who rescued me with his fishing hook—Samgu—I taught him martial arts in exchange for handling all household duties.
I told Sagong Hui—the future first female lackey—all that I had told Samgu, and she responded with a crisp retort.
“That’s labor exploitation, isn’t it? … Ouch!”
“You bitch! Since when did you learn manners from eating rice?!”
I did not take her on as a disciple.
I had hired Samgu as a servant. He provided food, clothing, and shelter; I provided martial prowess and inner strength. A transaction of mutual need.
Of course, alongside Samgu’s duties, Sagong Hui’s responsibilities included the night work. Though she was there for that purpose, I would not entirely abandon household chores.
She had to prepare my morning meal, set out wine when training ended, and at night entwine her body with my shadow in the moonlight.
‘Nothing but this body is of use! If only I could siphon qi as easily as enticing it… but not yet.’
My taking women was not mere lust.
Martial artists prize life energy; my signature art is Absorb Yin Nourish Yang.
My specialty is drawing a woman’s qi into my own. Not only during my time as Hyeolgwangsi but since my days as a Demonic Sect lackey, I mastered Absorb Yin Nourish Yang to drain countless women and survive amid righteous and demonic conflict.
Without that art I would have lost my head before ever becoming Hyeolgwangsi.
I vowed to live differently this time. I intended to claim countless women, and if I must take them anyway, why not fortify my inner strength with Absorb Yin Nourish Yang?
‘Then I should keep a woman brimming with yin qi by my side, cultivate my inner strength while she trains, and seize her energy each night.’
In exploiting Samgu, I learned: if you take on a servant, better to choose one you can absorb qi from daily, and if necessary, make her yours as insurance for the future.
“Raise them only to devour them… so the master trains the servant until she reaches his level and then the student becomes wife? Sick.”
Even Blood Cult leaders acknowledged this.
Some mad perverts raise disciples to be slain by them, hoping to be defeated—so I too raised a servant to consume her myself.
Watering crops only makes sense if you plan to harvest fruit; not as mere ornamentation.
‘But I cannot take her yet. She must reach at least First-Grade level in Taiji Divine Skill. Only then can I absorb yin qi without depleting vital energy!’
Chopping down a fruit tree to eat the fruit is foolish. You nurture it with yang qi and water until it bears more fruit—true eternal harvest.
Thus I demanded Sagong Hui master Taiji Divine Skill to First-Grade so I could absorb half her cultivation each day without weakening her.
Once she surpassed that threshold, I would reap her yin qi without killing her, ensuring she could feed me her energy for life.
In short, I expected three things of servant Sagong Hui.
First, household labor.
All chores I despised fell to her—fair payment for martial instruction. Teach Taiji Sword and even the Sect Leader of Wudang would come day and night to wait on her.
Second, the night work.
Sagong Hui was capable now. Taking a virgin was for qi absorption, but mouth or breast or other means would satisfy my appetite.
Third, Absorb Yin Nourish Yang.
After she reached First-Grade in Taiji Divine Skill, half her cultivate energy would be mine. If she accumulated ten qi points in a day, I’d seize five; the more she cultivated, the more my qi would grow infinitely.
Is this not true unity of yin and yang?
I chose Sagong Hui among countless women because Taiji Sword and Taiji Divine Skill blend yin and yang around the dantian most perfectly.
Yin and yang unite in Taiji’s cycle, energy explodes in communion: I gift her abundant yang and vital essence, and she offers me her yin qi.
Exchanging semen for inner energy seems unfair, but she must remember that it is by my teaching she reached First-Grade.
My master had said: abandon martial arts and be a farmer. So in this life I obeyed—an orchard owner.
Like the Peach Garden of the Queen Mother, which even immortals cannot taste, I would raise women to give me qi.
Just as bees gather honey from blossoms, I would cultivate women for Absorb Yin Nourish Yang.
For that, I chose Sagong Hui as my first female servant—but her talent was pitiful. She was worse at chores than the village beggar girl; soon I found myself providing for her.
“At this rate she’ll master Taiji Sword before learning kitchen work.”
If only half her Five Elements Sword Skill went into household training, how wonderful.
My heart ached watching Sagong Hui’s martial prowess grow each day. Then I remembered what Blood Cult Lord used to say.
I found myself missing Samgu so much tears blurred my vision. Not because I had to cook her dinner in the kitchen.
“Young Master! Please inspect my Five Elements Sword Array! I’ve finally mastered the form you taught!”
“After a month, stop perfecting your sword array and learn to stir-fry mushrooms!!”
With her five-star talent in martial arts, my servant wielded extraordinary skill, yet I could only swing my cleaver at innocent pork.