Chapter 95: An Unparalleled Opportunity
Among the elders gathered deep within Mount Zhongnan, the murmuring was intense.
The reason was a single proclamation sent by a Secular Disciple.
In truth, today’s eting had been convened precisely to discuss that matter.
After a short while, once the Sect Master arrived, the elders’ council imdiately began.
“The situation is grave.”
The one who voiced concern the mont proceedings began was the Pavilion Lord responsible for managing believers at Mount Zhongnan.
In fact, Mount Zhongnan did not maintain a separate missionary organization.
Daoism was a religion deeply rooted in the ideological foundation of the Central Plains’ people, so there was no real need for active proselytization.
Moreover, the Zhongnan Sect itself had begun as Daoists gathering on Mount Zhongnan—renowned for its favorable terrain and pure spiritual energy—to cultivate. From the outset, there had been no concept of missionary work.
Even so, having established itself as a major lineage within Central Plains Daoism, pilgrims seeking blessings visited Mount Zhongnan daily to pray for their wishes.
That was why, even amid the Great Famine sweeping the land, Mount Zhongnan remained well supplied with food.
As such, there had been no need to establish a dedicated institution to oversee missionary activities.
Accordingly, when matters concerning believers occasionally arose at Mount Zhongnan, they were handled by the Pavilion Lord who received pilgrims.
Perhaps for that reason, the one who regarded the present situation as most serious was that very Pavilion Lord.
“What exactly do you an is grave?”
At the Sect Master’s question, the Pavilion Lord held out the proclamation that the elders had been passing around.
However, the docunt he presented was not the Bright Cult martial artist recruitnt notice that had recently beco a topic of conversation among those of the martial world.
The Sect Master read the proclamation, titled **‘Support Program for Bright Cult Believers,’** with an indifferent air—then his eyes widened.
Seeing this, the Pavilion Lord asked,
“Now do you understand why I say it is serious?”
“Do you believe this is truly feasible?”
At the Sect Master’s question, neither the Pavilion Lord—who had first raised the issue—nor any of the elders could give an answer.
It was sothing no one had ever attempted before.
Neither Daoism nor Buddhism, nor even the countless heretical sects that had risen and fallen, had ever claid responsibility for the livelihoods of their believers.
“Hm… associations, you say. Will this truly function as intended?”
“Whether it functions or not is a secondary matter. The imdiate issue is how terrifying the rate of expansion is.”
“Just how severe is it, that you keep calling it grave?”
“Do you recall my earlier report that roughly twenty percent of the physicians in Sichuan had beco Bright Cult believers?”
“I rember. You reported that obscure physicians who were struggling to make ends et joined after seeing the Bright Cult distribute food freely to its believers.”
“That is correct. Previously, only such people joined. But according to the report that ca in today, nearly half of all physicians in Sichuan have joined the Bright Cult.”
At the Pavilion Lord’s words, the Sect Master’s eyes widened.
“How could that have happened?”
“Because of the proclamation you are holding. Unlimited supply of high-quality dicinal herbs.”
In truth, it would not be truly unlimited. No matter how rugged and mountainous Guizhou was, dicinal herbs could not pour forth endlessly.
Even so, physicians were drawn to those words because, in reality, vast quantities of high-quality dicinal ingredients had begun flowing out from physicians who had already joined the Bright Cult.
Originally, among the dicinal materials produced in Guizhou, mid-grade goods were sold by rchants from Guangdong and Guangxi to places like Hainan, Joseon, Wa, or Annam.
As for top-grade goods, they were sold to wealthy buyers in regions such as Anhui, Zhejiang, and Hebei.
As a result, only low-grade dicinal herbs ever reached Sichuan. That fact was precisely why Sichuan physicians were renowned in the Central Plains for their skill.
To treat patients effectively with inferior ingredients, each physician had to be exceptionally capable.
However, that entire ecosystem had been overturned at its foundation.
Top-grade dicinal materials from Guizhou had begun to be supplied directly to Sichuan physicians.
And at unimaginably low prices.
That was because the goods passed directly from the producers—the herb gatherers—to the physicians, without going through the hands of interdiate rchants, which ordinarily numbered at least five or six stages, sotis well over ten.
Even if they lacked fa, they were still physicians.
And dicines produced from the finest herbs could hardly be ineffective. On top of that, the prices were cheap.
This was because the Sichuan Physicians’ Association, created by the Bright Cult, had capped the distribution price of dicinal materials at a fixed level.
The reasoning—that it made no sense to charge impoverished believers high prices—had carried the day.
Naturally, the greed of the Central Plains’ people did not simply vanish. So physicians argued that it would be acceptable to charge non-believers a bit more, and indeed, they did so.
However, because they had to be mindful of the association, the difference was limited to about twenty percent.
In other words, if believers were charged ten nyang, non-believers were charged twelve.
As long as it stayed at that level, the association turned a blind eye. As this practice took root, rumors even spread that believers received discounts.
The rumor reversed cause and effect, but since the substance was not far from the truth, the association raised no objection.
This was also because the Guardian Division of the Bright Cult, which possessed auditing authority over the associations, remained silent.
At first, the ripple effect was not that great.
People assud that even if cheap dicine worked, how effective could it really be?
Even so, the Sichuan Physicians’ Association did not mind much. Most of its production was purchased by the dicinal materials associations of Cheonghae and Xinjiang.
In Cheonghae and Xinjiang—regions chronically plagued by shortages of physicians and dicinal materials—the dicines produced by the Sichuan Physicians’ Association were inevitably welcod.
As word gradually spread, the number of dicinal rchants seeking out the Sichuan Physicians’ Association increased dramatically.
Now it had reached the point where people would pay a premium just to buy dicinal products produced by the association.
And this had not taken long.
It had all happened in rely a few months.
“Then the reason physicians joined the Bright Cult in such numbers is…?”
“To receive top-grade dicinal herbs from Guizhou, there is no other way.”
“Hm…”
As the Sect Master let out a low hum, the Pavilion Lord spoke again.
“We must open Mount Zhongnan as well and allow dicinal herbs to be gathered. Those herbs should be supplied to the families of our Secular Disciples who run dical halls or pharmacies. If we continue to stand by and do nothing, I fear the footsteps of the pilgrims will cease, Sect Master.”
“Is it really that serious?”
“This month alone, the number of pilgrims is only one-third of last month’s. And last month was itself only one-third of the month before that.”
It was a sharper decline than expected.
Seeing the unease in the elders’ eyes, the Sect Master had no choice but to nod.
“Then… do so.”
At the Zhongnan Sect Master’s answer, color returned to the elders’ faces.
---
Conversations similar to Zhongnan’s were taking place here and there, but in one place, a slightly different discussion was unfolding.
It was about the proclamation for recruiting martial artists.
“It seems others aren’t paying it much attention, but this ti the Bright Cult seems to have struck at the core of the issue.”
At Jegal Giyeon’s words, the Jegal Clan Head nodded.
“Yes. In tis like these, taking responsibility for livelihoods is no small matter.”
What the two were discussing was not the Bright Cult’s support program for its believers.
When recruiting martial artists, the Bright Cult had added a condition: if a child passed the preliminary examination, their family could, if they wished, co live within the main stronghold.
In such cases, it was clearly stated that the Bright Cult would take responsibility for the food of those family mbers living inside the stronghold.
It was an age in which, if one did not starve to death, people would sell not only themselves but even their children into slavery.
For those with nothing and no power, such desperate struggles were the only way to survive in that cruel era.
In such circumstances, if one child passed the Bright Cult’s martial artist examination, the livelihood of the entire family would be secured.
The proclamation had been posted in Xinjiang, Cheonghae, Guizhou, and Sichuan, but people also flocked in from neighboring Gansu, Shaanxi, Hunan, Hubei, and Guangxi.
It was cruel, but to survive, people took their children by the hand and stread toward Xinjiang.
Among them were even cases where adults well past thirty applied instead of children.
This was despite the proclamation clearly stating that only children under ten were eligible.
That was how desperate the tis were—there was nothing people would not attempt to survive.
Jegal Giyeon raised the issue of this indiscriminate wave of applicants.
“The problem will be the quality of those being recruited.”
“Indeed. The Bright Cult’s martial artists of the past were those who crossed mountains of death and rivers of hell. But those who undergo training aid at ensuring a ten-out-of-ten survival rate…”
Jegal Giyeon imdiately grasped the Clan Head’s concern.
In truth, even within the Jegal Clan, the number who died during training reached as high as three out of ten.
That was how dangerous cultivating internal martial arts was.
And yet the survival rate of training in the Demonic Cult—renowned for its harsh demonic arts—was ten out of ten?
To achieve such a survival rate, the difficulty of training would have to be drastically lowered. Martial artists born that way could not possibly be the sa as before.
“That’s good news for us.”
“The problem is ti. It will take decades before they erge and occupy the core of the Bright Cult.”
Sensing that the Clan Head had so sche in mind, Jegal Giyeon asked,
“So you have a stratagem to produce results without waiting that long?”
“If they’re gathering riffraff like this, wouldn’t the conditions be perfect for infiltrating spies?”
At the Clan Head’s answer, Jegal Giyeon’s eyes lit up.
“Spies!”
“As you know, the Bright Cult was nearly impossible to infiltrate with spies. But…”
“Not anymore. Since it’s an open recruitnt, there’s now room for us to squeeze in.”
At Jegal Giyeon’s words, the Clan Head nodded.
“I’ve already sent a few with faint ties from the collateral branches. Even if they’re exposed and die, there’s nothing to regret. If they succeed, there’s nothing better.”
They were still family, no matter how faint the ties. Hearing the Clan Head speak of their possible deaths without regret, Jegal Giyeon simply nodded.
“Excellent.”
The smiles hanging at the corners of their lips were unsettling for precisely that reason.
---
The village ford leaning against the foothills of the Heavenly Mountains, where the Bright Cult’s main stronghold stood, was a place where retired martial artists of the Bright Cult spent their later years.
They could have remained inside the stronghold until death, but those who did not wish to bow their heads to young superiors under the law of Might Makes Right even in old age chose to co out and live there.
The Bright Cult took responsibility for their livelihoods, considering it a kind of leave.
In fact, those living in this village—called the “Mountain Foot Village”—had not infrequently shed blood for the Bright Cult in tis of crisis.
When the Maekbaek War thirty years ago turned unfavorable for the Bright Cult, nearly all of the village’s residents had rushed into the war.
They called it earning their keep, but the Bright Cult simply regarded them as family.
As such, the people of the Mountain Foot Village were no different from those living inside the stronghold.
They were just as rough and coarse as Bright Cult martial artists. However, the law of Might Makes Right did not apply within the village.
One could not swagger just because their martial arts were strong, nor lecture others just because they were older. Do that, and you would be ostracized.
Simply mingling together and peacefully enjoying the twilight of their remaining years—that was the villagers’ sole concern.
And yet—
“Hey. Gi-chil. Set up a table over there. The kids are asking for food.”
“Ah! Brother Jang Pyeong. It’s already packed here too.”
“So what, you’re just going to turn them away? Let the Vice Cult Leader hear about it—he’ll say he’s disappointed.”
“Damn it. Who cares if he’s disappointed? I’m just afraid my head’ll fly off if that twisted temper of his explodes.”
Muttering to himself, Gi-chil was shouted at by Jang Pyeong.
“What did you say?”
“N-no! I ant I’ll hurry and make space.”
“Good. Hurry.”
Jang Pyeong wasn’t unaware of Gi-chil’s complaints. Still… he was afraid. No one knew what would happen if the Vice Cult Leader’s temper truly erupted.
Amid their hurried movents, it was not hard to spot the children.
And the parents beside them, gripping their children’s hands tightly, their faces filled with anxiety.
Looking over them as he descended into the village, my gaze sank low.
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