As darkness settled over the Jin Clan compound, Tae-Won sat cross-legged on the guest quarters' bed, his eyes closed. The ambient Qi here was indeed far richer than in the slums—he could feel it seeping into his meridians even without active cultivation.
"Three hours of meditation has pushed me to 20% Body Refinement I," he murmured to himself. "Not bad for one evening."
He opened his eyes and glanced at the window. The moon hung high—perfect timing for his excursion. The street children would be waiting at the abandoned temple, and Min-Ji's knowledge of the Jin Clan's patrol schedules wouldn't last forever.
Tae-Won frowned as a new thought occurred to him. "System, I have a concern."
[System active. Awaiting inquiry.]
"The Jin Clan disciples and especially the patrolmen are at Foundation Establishment—two full realms above my cultivation. They should be able to sense my Qi signature without difficulty, correct?"
[Affirmative. Foundation Establishment cultivators can detect Qi signatures within 100 meters under normal conditions.]
Tae-Won clicked his tongue. "That's problematic. Is there a way to remove or mask my energy signature? Otherwise, I'll be caught the moment I leave this room."
The System was silent for a moment longer than usual.
[Initializing Meridian Destruction Protocol...]
"What? No! That's not what I meant!" Tae-Won hissed in alarm. "I don't want to destroy my meridians! I meant, is there a way to temporarily hide my Qi signature?"
[Protocol canceled. Apologies for the misunderstanding.]
Tae-Won exhaled in relief. "So is there another way to conceal my presence from their senses?"
[Analysis complete. Your Qi signature will completely disappear the minute the user dies.]
Tae-Won's imperial composure slipped. "Are you joking with me right now?"
[Affirmative. Humor subroutine engaged.]
"I didn't realize you had a sense of humor," Tae-Won muttered. "But seriously, what can I actually do about this problem?"
[Initializing feature: Qi Signature Cloaking. Activation complete.]
Tae-Won felt a subtle shift in his body, as if his Qi had suddenly withdrawn deeper into his core, becoming impossible to detect from the outside.
"My thanks," he said, surprised. "I didn't know you had a feature like this. Does that mean you can also increase my cultivation speed directly?"
[Negative. My primary purpose is to guide you in this world and to prevent your premature death. I can provide aid but cannot directly enhance your cultivation. You must earn progress through legitimate effort and resources.]
Tae-Won nodded, a faint smile on his lips. "Fair enough. In my previous life, I never trusted those who sought shortcuts to power anyway."
He moved silently to the window, testing his concealed Qi by passing near the door where a guard was stationed. The guard showed no reaction.
"Perfect," Tae-Won whispered. "Now let's see what information my little network has gathered."
With the grace that once carried him through imperial court intrigues, Tae-Won slipped out the window and into the shadow-drenched gardens of the Jin Clan compound.
Tae-Won slipped through the Jin Clan compound under the cover of darkness, his movements precise and deliberate. The guest quarters were minimally guarded—a calculated insult, perhaps, suggesting he wasn't worth the effort of proper surveillance. Their underestimation would serve him well.
He had spent the remainder of the day after meeting Elder Jin in careful observation, mapping patrol patterns and guard rotations. The eastern wall, as he'd suspected, offered the most promising escape route. A large oak tree grew near enough to provide cover from casual observers, and the wall itself featured subtle imperfections—handholds for someone with his experience in siege warfare.
"System," he whispered as he crouched in the shadow of the tree. "Status."
[Current Realm: Body Refinement Stage 1]
[Cultivation Progress: 20.1%]
[Qi reserves: 72% of maximum capacity]
[Physical condition: 78% recovered from previous injuries]
Better, though still pathetically weak. Just a few hours in the Qi-rich environment of the Jin compound had accelerated his recovery substantially. He'd need to make the most of his time here.
With practiced efficiency, Tae-Won scaled the wall, each movement calculated to minimize noise and visibility. At the top, he paused, scanning for patrolling guards. Two figures in blue robes walked the perimeter fifty paces to the north, their backs turned to him. Perfect.
He dropped silently to the other side, landing in a crouch that distributed his weight evenly—a technique perfected during countless infiltration missions in his previous life. The streets beyond the compound were nearly empty at this hour, with only the occasional drunk or night worker hurrying along the paved roads.
Navigating by memory, Tae-Won made his way back toward the slums. The transition from the Jin Clan's district to the city's poorer quarters was stark—paved roads giving way to muddy paths, solid buildings replaced by ramshackle structures, clean air surrendering to the stench of poverty and desperation.
The abandoned temple sat on the edge of the slum district, near the slow-moving river that served as both water source and sewage disposal for the area's residents. Once an impressive structure dedicated to some forgotten deity, it now stood partially collapsed, its ornate decorations long since stripped for materials or food money.
As Tae-Won approached, he noticed small, flickering movements in the shadows—watchful eyes tracking his progress. The children had posted lookouts. Smart.
"It's me," he called softly, keeping his voice low enough to avoid attracting unwanted attention but loud enough for nearby ears to catch.
A small figure dropped from the crumbling temple roof, landing with surprising grace. Ho-Jin grinned up at him, relief evident in his young face.
"You made it, sir! We were starting to worry."
"I said I would come," Tae-Won replied, stepping into the relative shelter of the temple's remaining walls. "I keep my word."
Inside, the main hall had been transformed into a makeshift hideout. Tattered blankets formed sleeping pallets along the walls, while a small fire burned in what had once been the altar area, carefully screened to prevent the light from being visible outside.
Twenty-three children looked up at his entrance, their faces a mixture of hope, wariness, and curiosity. More than the thirteen he'd met earlier—the rest of Ho-Jin's group had joined them as promised.
"Our savior returns!" a small voice called out, prompting several excited whispers.
Tae-Won scowled. "What did I say about that title?"
The children exchanged glances, some looking abashed, others suppressing smiles.
Min-Ji stepped forward, her scarred face solemn. "We didn't expect you to escape the Jin Clan compound. How did you manage it?"
"The same way I'll return before dawn," Tae-Won answered, moving to warm his hands by the fire. "Their security is designed to keep people out, not in. Especially guests they underestimate."
The children gathered around him, their earlier bashfulness forgotten in their eagerness for news. Tae-Won studied them more carefully now, assessing their potential as assets. They ranged from perhaps five to seventeen years old, with Min-Ji and a tall, wiry boy appearing to be the eldest. Despite their ragged appearance and obvious malnutrition, there was a resilience in their eyes that reminded him of the frontier battalions he'd once commanded—those who had learned to survive against all odds.
"Tell us everything," Ho-Jin urged, settling cross-legged at Tae-Won's feet. "What happened with Elder Jin? Are you joining the clan? Did they try to kill you?"
Tae-Won held up a hand, stemming the flood of questions. "First, report. What have you learned since we separated? Any sign that the Jin Clan is searching the slums for me or for you?"
Min-Ji shook her head. "No systematic searches, but the patrols have been more frequent in the eastern quadrant—near your old shack. They're asking questions, offering coins for information."
"Anyone take the bait?"
"Old Man Choi," a thin boy with a missing front tooth offered. "But he's senile—told them you flew away on a giant turtle."
Tae-Won raised an eyebrow, and the children giggled.
"No credible information has leaked," Min-Ji confirmed. "The slum folk don't trust the Jin Clan enough to cooperate, coins or no coins."
"Good." Tae-Won nodded, satisfied with their initial report. "Now listen carefully. I've been offered a position as an Outer Disciple in the Jin Clan."
Gasps and murmurs swept through the gathered children.
"Are you going to accept?" Ho-Jin asked, his voice tinged with worry.
"No." Tae-Won's voice was firm. "But I have three days as their guest to observe and learn. I intend to make the most of it."
He outlined his plan—days spent in the compound gathering information and cultivation resources, nights coordinating with the children to establish a network in the slums. By the end of the three days, he would need to be ready to refuse Elder Jin's offer without immediately being hunted down and eliminated.
"But why refuse?" the tall, wiry boy asked. "Joining the Jin Clan would mean food, shelter, training—everything we lack here."
"And what would it mean for the rest of you?" Tae-Won countered. "Would the Jin Clan extend their generosity to two dozen slum children? Or would they expect me to abandon you as the price of my advancement?"
The boy fell silent, and several of the younger children shuffled closer to Tae-Won, as if seeking reassurance that he wouldn't leave them behind.
It was manipulative, appealing to their fear of abandonment—but also true. The Jin Clan would never accept these children as part of any deal. Their offer was for him alone, based on his potential value as an asset.
Min-Ji's eyes narrowed with concern. "What happens when you reject their offer? I doubt they'll take it kindly."
Tae-Won nodded grimly. "That's exactly the problem. What I speculate is that they'll send cultivators to deal with me—and possibly you as well. That's why you need to be prepared to leave this location immediately after I make my decision."
The children exchanged worried glances.
"They'll really come after us?" a small girl asked, her voice quavering.
"They probably won't send their regular forces," Tae-Won explained, "but rather the patrol men we've seen in the slums. I'm still not strong enough to fight them either, but that's why we need this backup plan."
"Where would we go?" Ho-Jin asked.
"I'm working on that," Tae-Won replied. "Which brings me to my next point. Have any of you heard more about the Heavenly Cloud Martial Academy?"
Li-Na, the small girl with intelligent eyes, leaned forward eagerly. "My father told me they hold examinations twice a year that anyone can attempt. The next one is only a month away."
"I have greater ambitions than becoming a Jin Clan lapdog," Tae-Won continued. "And those ambitions require allies, intelligence, and resources beyond what any single clan can provide."
He didn't elaborate on those ambitions—not yet. These children knew nothing of his past life, his true identity, or his ultimate goals. They didn't need to know that the frail boy they followed had once commanded armies and conquered nations, had slain gods and refused godhood.
For now, they simply needed to believe he could offer them more than the desperate, day-to-day survival they'd known. And that was an easy promise to make—because it was true.
"Tomorrow," he said, changing the subject, "I'll need information. The Jin Clan has a library for their disciples. While I'm there, I'll look for cultivation techniques, maps, political information—anything that might be useful."
"We can help," Min-Ji offered eagerly. "We know people who work in the compound—kitchen staff, cleaners. They might be able to tell you which sections of the library hold what you're looking for."
Tae-Won nodded, impressed by her initiative. "Good. Also, I need to know more about the city's power structure. The Five Great Sects, the Twelve Noble Families—who they are, their territories, their strengths and weaknesses."
"Li-Na knows things," Ho-Jin said, pointing to a small girl with intelligent eyes. "Her father was a scribe before he died. She can read and write."
The girl nodded solemnly. "I remember some of what my father taught me about Murim's great powers. The Heavenly Cloud Martial Academy is closest to us—just beyond the northern districts. They say they accept students based on talent, not background."
"So I've heard," Tae-Won said, his interest piqued. "Tell me more about them. And about the Five Great Sects."
Li-Na's eyes lit up at the chance to share her knowledge. "The Heavenly Cloud Martial Academy was founded three hundred years ago by the Divine Wind Immortal. Unlike the clans and sects that only accept disciples from noble lineages or through strict sponsorship, the Academy holds open examinations twice a year. Anyone can attempt the trials, regardless of background."
"And do slum children ever pass these trials?" Tae-Won asked, already guessing the answer.
Li-Na's expression dimmed. "Rarely. The physical trials require a level of cultivation difficult to achieve without proper resources and training. And the entrance fee alone costs more than most slum families see in a year."
"Of course," Tae-Won muttered. "The illusion of meritocracy to maintain the existing power structure. Classic."
"But it's still the best chance for someone from the slums," Min-Ji interjected. "Better than the sects or clans that won't even let us through their gates."
Tae-Won filed this information away. The Academy could be a potential path forward—if he could find a way to cover the entrance fee and prepare adequately for the trials.
"And the Five Great Sects?" he prompted, returning to his original question.
Li-Na straightened, clearly pleased to continue her role as informant. "The Five Great Sects are the most powerful cultivation organizations in the Empire. They control vast territories and answer to no one but the Imperial Family itself—and some say even the Emperor must treat them with respect."
She counted them off on her slender fingers. "The Azure Sky Sect controls the eastern territories, including the coastal provinces. They specialize in sword techniques and lightning-based Qi cultivation. The Earthbound Temple dominates the western mountains and focuses on body-strengthening arts and earth-element cultivation. The Crimson Flame Pavilion rules the southern deserts with their fire-based arts. The Midnight Lotus Society controls the northern forests and excels in stealth and poison techniques."
"And the fifth?" Tae-Won prompted when she paused.
Li-Na's voice dropped to a near whisper. "The Immortal Ice Palace. They dwell in the far north, beyond the Frost Peaks. Their cultivation methods are said to be the most difficult but also the most powerful. They rarely interact with the outside world, but when they do..."
"The world shakes," finished an older boy solemnly.
Tae-Won absorbed this information, mentally mapping the political landscape. Five major powers, territorially distributed, each with specialized cultivation methods. Below them, the Twelve Noble Families, including the Jin Clan. And below those, smaller sects, merchant guilds, and commoners.
A feudal structure, essentially, with cultivation ability determining one's place in the hierarchy. Not unlike Latvaria before his rise to power, though the specifics differed.
"And the other Noble Families?" he asked. "Who are the Jin Clan's allies and rivals?"
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
This prompted a detailed discussion among several of the children, with Li-Na and Min-Ji providing most of the information. The Jin Clan, it seemed, was closely allied with the Song Family and the Wei Consortium, forming a political bloc within the city's governance structure. Their main rivals were the Zhao Clan and the Han Family, who controlled neighboring districts and competed for resources and imperial favor.
As the night deepened, Tae-Won continued his questioning, extracting every scrap of information the children possessed about Murim City and its power dynamics. Much of it was fragmentary, some clearly distorted by rumor and childish misunderstanding, but it provided a starting framework for his plans.
"It's getting late," he finally said, noting the drooping eyelids of the younger children. "I need to return to the compound before dawn. Tomorrow night, I'll bring food and, if possible, some basic cultivation manuals."
"You're really coming back?" a small girl asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.
"I said I would, didn't I?" Tae-Won replied, slightly irritated by the question.
"Adults always say things," she mumbled. "Doesn't mean they do them."
Something about her resigned cynicism struck an unexpected chord in Tae-Won. These children had learned harsh lessons about trust and betrayal, about the worthlessness of promises from those with power over them.
In that moment, he recognized a potential that went beyond mere tools for his ambition. These children, if properly molded, could become something far more valuable—true disciples, loyal not from fear or tradition but from genuine gratitude and respect.
"I am not 'adults,'" he said, his voice softer than intended. "When I make a promise, I keep it. Remember that."
The sincerity in his own voice surprised him. Was he growing soft in this new life? Or was it simply that he recognized the strategic value of absolutely loyal followers?
Either way, the result was the same—the children's faces brightened with renewed hope, and even Min-Ji's skeptical expression softened slightly.
"Before I go," Tae-Won said, "I promised to teach you some techniques. We haven't much time tonight, but I can show you the first step toward strengthening your bodies."
He led them through a basic breathing exercise—one of the foundational techniques he'd mastered in his previous life. It was simple enough that even the youngest children could follow along, yet effective at circulating Qi through the body's pathways.
"Practice this whenever you can," he instructed as he prepared to leave. "Morning and night at minimum. It won't make you cultivators overnight, but it will strengthen your lungs, improve your stamina, and begin to awaken your awareness of Qi."
Ho-Jin nodded seriously. "We'll practice every day, sir. And we'll gather more information for when you return tomorrow night."
With final instructions to maintain secrecy and avoid the Jin Clan patrols, Tae-Won slipped back into the night, retracing his path to the compound. His mind buzzed with plans and possibilities based on the information he'd gathered.
The Heavenly Cloud Martial Academy interested him particularly. An institution that at least claimed to value talent over background could provide opportunities that the more traditional sects would deny someone of his apparent status. And if their trials truly tested innate ability rather than prior training, his experiences from his past life might give him an edge despite his current weak cultivation.
By the time he scaled the eastern wall and dropped silently back into the Jin Clan compound, the first hints of dawn were brightening the sky. He made his way to the guest quarters without incident, slipping inside his room just as the morning bell began to toll.
"System," he murmured, settling onto the meditation mat. "Status update."
[Current Realm: Body Refinement Stage 1]
[Cultivation Progress: 20.3%]
[Qi reserves: 70% of maximum capacity]
[Physical condition: 81% recovered from previous injuries]
The night's exertions had consumed some of his energy, but the brief training session with the children had also honed his control slightly. Not a significant improvement, but progress nonetheless.
Tae-Won closed his eyes, beginning the meditation technique he'd practiced religiously in his past life. The compound's Qi-rich environment made the process smoother, energy flowing more readily into his meridians.
A soft knock at his door interrupted his concentration.
"Young guest," a polite voice called. "Breakfast will be served in the main hall shortly. Patrol Leader Jin Hwan instructed me to guide you there."
Tae-Won opened his eyes, suppressing a flicker of annoyance. "Enter."
The door slid open to reveal a young disciple in blue robes—a boy perhaps fifteen or sixteen, with a round face and eager expression.
"I'm Liu Feng," the boy said, bowing slightly. "Elder Jin assigned me to assist you during your stay."
An escort. Or more accurately, a watchdog. Elder Jin clearly wanted him monitored, though the choice of a young, seemingly guileless disciple suggested a desire for subtlety.
"Very well, Liu Feng," Tae-Won said, rising gracefully to his feet. "Lead the way."
As they walked through the compound, Liu Feng kept up a steady stream of chatter, pointing out various buildings and training areas with the enthusiasm of an official tour guide. Tae-Won listened with half an ear, more interested in the disciples they passed—their techniques, their equipment, the deference shown to those with higher status.
The compound was fully alive now, with disciples of various ages training in courtyards, servants hurrying about their duties, and blue-robed instructors supervising exercises with stern expressions. The hierarchy was immediately apparent—Outer Disciples in simple blue robes, Inner Disciples with silver trim, Core Disciples with multiple silver lines denoting their rank.
The communal dining hall was a large, open pavilion near the center of the compound. Long tables filled the space, with disciples seated according to their status—the highest-ranking nearest to the raised platform at the front, the lowest by the entrance.
"Guest disciples eat here," Liu Feng said, gesturing to a small table set apart from the others. "The food is the same as what Outer Disciples receive."
"How generous," Tae-Won remarked dryly, taking the indicated seat.
Breakfast was simple but nutritious—rice porridge with preserved vegetables, steamed buns, and a bitter tea that Tae-Won recognized as having Qi-enhancing properties. After days of scavenging in the slums, the meal seemed almost decadent.
As he ate, Tae-Won observed the interactions around him. The discipline was evident—disciples ate quickly and efficiently, with minimal conversation. Instructors circulated among the tables, occasionally stopping to correct a posture or deliver a brief admonishment.
"What's the schedule for today?" he asked Liu Feng, who hovered attentively nearby.
"Morning is typically dedicated to physical training," the boy replied. "Afternoon is for cultivation techniques and theory. As a guest, you're welcome to observe most of the Outer Disciple training sessions. There's also the library, which guests may use with supervision."
"The library," Tae-Won repeated, unable to hide his interest. "I'd like to visit it after breakfast."
Liu Feng nodded eagerly. "Of course! I can take you there directly."
The Jin Clan library occupied a two-story building near the western side of the compound. Unlike the ostentatious Hall of Azure Flames, the library was austere in design, with few decorations beyond the clan emblem above the entrance.
Inside, the air was cool and dry, heavy with the scent of paper and ink. Rows of shelves filled with scrolls, bound manuscripts, and the occasional printed book stretched from floor to ceiling. A few disciples sat at reading tables, deep in study of various texts.
An elderly woman with sharp eyes and a severely pinned bun of white hair presided over a desk near the entrance. She looked up as they approached, her gaze immediately fixing on Tae-Won with undisguised suspicion.
"This is our guest," Liu Feng explained, bowing respectfully to the librarian. "Elder Jin has granted him access to the Outer Disciple sections."
The woman's eyes narrowed further. "A guest from where, exactly? He doesn't look like the usual type Elder Jin entertains."
Before Liu Feng could respond, Tae-Won stepped forward, offering a shallow bow that acknowledged her position without suggesting deference.
"I am Tae-Won," he said, carefully modulating his voice to sound respectful without being servile. "Elder Jin has kindly offered me the opportunity to learn more about the Jin Clan's illustrious history and cultivation paths."
The librarian's expression remained skeptical. "Hmm. The Outer Disciple sections only, boy. Try to access the restricted areas, and you'll be expelled immediately. Am I clear?"
"Perfectly," Tae-Won replied, hiding his irritation at her condescending tone.
"You may browse freely within the appropriate sections," she continued, gesturing to the left side of the main floor. "Liu Feng will remain with you at all times."
As Liu Feng led him toward the indicated area, Tae-Won considered his approach. With the young disciple watching his every move, he would need to be careful about which texts he requested.
The Outer Disciple section contained basic cultivation manuals, histories of the Jin Clan, and introductory texts on Qi theory—nothing that would immediately advance his goals, but potentially useful for establishing a foundation in this world's cultivation methods.
"I'm interested in learning more about the cultivation system of this world," Tae-Won said to Liu Feng, deliberately phrasing his request to seem like that of an eager student rather than a strategic information-gatherer. "The Six Realms, the different paths, how one progresses from one stage to the next."
Liu Feng brightened, clearly pleased to be asked about something he knew well. "The basic texts are here," he said, leading Tae-Won to a shelf of thin, well-worn manuscripts. "These are what all new disciples study in their first year."
Tae-Won selected several volumes, carrying them to a nearby reading table. As he began to peruse the texts, absorbing information about meridians, Qi circulation, and the fundamental theory behind the Body Refinement realm, a thought occurred to him.
"I've heard mention of the Heavenly Cloud Martial Academy," he said casually, glancing up at Liu Feng. "As well as the Five Great Sects and the other Noble Families. Coming from... elsewhere, I'm not familiar with these institutions. Is there something here that might explain them?"
Liu Feng looked uncertain. "The political structure of Murim isn't typically part of initial Outer Disciple studies..."
"Yet surely understanding the Jin Clan's place in the broader world would help me appreciate its significance," Tae-Won countered smoothly. "Elder Jin mentioned that he wished me to learn about the clan's position and history."
This appeal to Elder Jin's authority had the desired effect. Liu Feng nodded and moved toward another section of shelves.
"This general introduction to Murim's power structure might be helpful," he said, selecting a thick volume bound in blue leather. "It's a bit outdated—compiled about thirty years ago—but the major institutions haven't changed significantly."
"Thank you," Tae-Won said, accepting the book with carefully controlled eagerness. "This is exactly the kind of context I need."
As Liu Feng returned to his post nearby, Tae-Won opened the volume, quickly scanning its contents. The book provided a comprehensive overview of Murim's political landscape, with sections devoted to the Imperial Family, the Five Great Sects, the Twelve Noble Families, and various lesser powers.
He absorbed the information rapidly, his imperial education allowing him to process and retain details with exceptional efficiency. The text confirmed much of what Li-Na had told him about the Five Great Sects, while adding specifics about their founding, territories, and known cultivation techniques.
The section on the Twelve Noble Families was particularly illuminating. Each family controlled significant territory, maintained private armies of cultivators, and specialized in particular industries or skills. The Jin Clan, for instance, was known for metallurgy and weapon-crafting, with their Azure Flame techniques particularly suited to forge work.
After an hour of intensive study, Tae-Won closed the political text and returned to the cultivation manuals. These contained detailed instructions for basic Qi circulation techniques, breathing exercises to enhance energy absorption, and physical postures to strengthen the body's meridians.
Most were variations of techniques he'd already mastered in his previous life, though the terminology and specific visualizations differed. The underlying principles remained the same—energy flowed along established pathways, gradually strengthening the body and expanding one's capacity to hold and direct energy, now Qi.
As midday approached, Tae-Won found himself growing restless. The information was useful but limited by the restrictions placed on him as a guest. The truly valuable techniques—those that might accelerate his cultivation beyond the typical pace—would be in the restricted sections, accessible only to Inner or Core Disciples.
He needed more—and for that, he would need the librarian's cooperation.
Rising from his seat, Tae-Won approached the elderly woman's desk, Liu Feng trailing anxiously behind him.
"Honored Librarian," he began, his tone respectful but not obsequious. "I've found these texts most illuminating, but I have questions about Murim's broader power structure that they don't fully address."
The woman looked up from her ledger, her expression guarded. "Such as?"
Tae-Won swallowed his pride, allowing a hint of youthful enthusiasm to color his voice—a calculated performance meant to appeal to a teacher's instinct to instruct.
"I've heard of the Heavenly Cloud Martial Academy, as well as the other Eleven Noble Families and the Five Great Sects," he said, carefully controlling his frustration at having to play the role of an ignorant supplicant. "The text provides basic information, but I'm curious about how these institutions interact with each other. The alliances, the rivalries, the balance of power."
The librarian studied him for a long moment, her sharp eyes seeming to pierce through his facade. Just as Tae-Won began to fear he'd overplayed his hand, her expression softened almost imperceptibly.
"You're from the slums, aren't you, boy?" she asked, her voice lower now, though no less stern.
Tae-Won considered lying but decided against it. This woman had likely served the Jin Clan for decades—she would recognize deception.
"Yes," he acknowledged with a slight nod. "The Eastern Slums."
"Hmm." She set down her brush, folding her hands atop her ledger. "And now you find yourself in the Jin Clan compound, invited by Elder Jin himself. Quite a leap."
"Fortune favors the prepared," Tae-Won replied, meeting her gaze steadily.
The hint of a smile touched her thin lips. "Does it now? And what exactly are you preparing for, young man from the slums?"
It was a test—Tae-Won recognized the subtle probing behind her seemingly casual question. His answer would determine how much information she was willing to share.
He thought of the children waiting in the abandoned temple, of the vast gulf between his current state and his ultimate ambitions, of the intricate power structure he was only beginning to understand.
"I'm preparing to survive," he said finally, allowing a calculated vulnerability to show in his expression. "And perhaps, eventually, to find my place in this world."
The librarian regarded him for another long moment before giving a curt nod.
"A honest answer, at least," she said. "Very well. What specifically do you wish to know about these institutions?"
Tae-Won suppressed a triumphant smile. "The Heavenly Cloud Martial Academy interests me particularly. I've heard they accept students based on talent rather than background. Is this true, or merely a pleasant fiction?"
The librarian leaned back in her chair, her posture relaxing slightly. "The Academy does indeed hold open examinations twice yearly. Anyone may attempt the trials, regardless of birth or background." She paused, her eyes narrowing slightly. "But don't mistake this for true equality, boy. The entrance fee alone is beyond the means of most commoners, and the physical trials require a level of cultivation difficult to achieve without proper resources and training."
"Yet some from humble origins do succeed?" Tae-Won pressed.
"Some," she acknowledged. "Perhaps one or two each year, from among thousands who attempt the trials. Those with truly exceptional talent or determination." Her gaze sharpened. "Is that your ambition, then? To join the Academy?"
Tae-Won shrugged noncommittally. "I'm exploring all possibilities."
"A prudent approach," she said, sounding faintly approving. "The Academy is indeed one potential path for someone of your... circumstances. Their combat training is considered among the finest in the Empire, though their cultivation methods lack the specialization of the great sects."
"And what of the Jin Clan's relationship with these other powers?" Tae-Won asked, steering the conversation toward the political information he sought. "The text mentions alliances with the Song Family and the Wei Consortium. Are these stable, or subject to the shifting winds of opportunity?"
The librarian's eyebrows rose slightly. "You don't ask simple questions, do you?" She glanced at Liu Feng, who stood nearby trying to appear as if he wasn't listening intently. "The political landscape of Murim is complex and ever-changing, though certain relationships have remained consistent for generations."
She rose from her desk, moving to a nearby shelf and selecting a slim volume bound in red leather. "This contains the official history of the Jin Clan's diplomatic relations over the past century. It's not restricted, though few Outer Disciples bother to read it."
As she handed him the book, she lowered her voice slightly. "The true answer to your question, however, is that all alliances in Murim are ultimately subject to self-interest. The Jin Clan, like all powers, will sacrifice any relationship if the benefit is great enough."
There was something in her tone—a hint of old bitterness, perhaps—that suggested personal experience with such political calculations.
"Thank you, Honored Librarian," Tae-Won said, accepting the volume with a respectful nod. "Your insights are invaluable."
"You may call me Madam Liu," she replied, returning to her desk. "And be warned, boy—knowledge is indeed power, but power attracts attention. Not all attention is welcome, especially for one in your position."
Tae-Won recognized the warning for what it was—not a threat, but genuine caution from someone who had observed the clan's internal politics for longer than he had been alive.
"I'll keep that in mind, Madam Liu," he said, bowing slightly before returning to his reading table.
As he opened the new volume, he reflected on this unexpected development. The librarian could be a valuable resource—someone with access to information and, potentially, a perspective less aligned with the clan's official positions than might be expected.
Cultivating her as an asset would require careful handling, but the potential benefits were significant. Especially if he decided against joining the Jin Clan, having a contact within their walls could prove invaluable.
For now, though, he would focus on extracting every useful piece of information from the texts before him. Knowledge was indeed power—and in this new world, with his cultivation reset to virtually nothing, information might be his most potent weapon.
As the afternoon wore on, Tae-Won immersed himself in Murim's political history, building a mental map of alliances, enmities, and historical grievances. Behind the formal language and diplomatic accounts, patterns emerged—cycles of cooperation and betrayal, the constant jockeying for position among the Noble Families, the careful deference all showed to the Five Great Sects.
It was, in many ways, similar to the political landscape of Latvaria before his rise to power—a rigid hierarchy maintained through tradition and force, with talent and merit acknowledged only when it served the interests of those already in power.
And like Latvaria, it was a system ripe for disruption by someone with the vision and will to challenge its fundamental assumptions.
By the time the library's closing bell rang, Tae-Won had filled his mind with names, dates, techniques, and theories—the raw materials from which he would craft his path forward in this world.
As he rose to return the books to their shelves, Madam Liu approached his table.
"You read quickly for one supposedly raised in the slums," she observed, her tone neutral but her eyes sharp with assessment.
"I had a good teacher," Tae-Won replied truthfully, thinking of the imperial tutors who had drilled him in languages, mathematics, and military strategy from the moment he could speak.
"Indeed." She gathered the volumes he had finished, her movements brisk and efficient. "You may return tomorrow if you wish to continue your studies. I can recommend some additional texts that might address your... unique situation."
The offer was delivered casually, but Tae-Won recognized its significance. Madam Liu was offering to guide his research, perhaps even to provide access to materials not typically available to guests or Outer Disciples.
"I would appreciate that greatly," he said, inclining his head in genuine gratitude.
As he and Liu Feng left the library, the young disciple turned to him with undisguised curiosity.
"You've impressed Madam Liu," he said, sounding slightly awed. "She rarely offers personal recommendations to anyone below Inner Disciple rank."
"Knowledge is its own reward," Tae-Won replied, hiding his satisfaction behind a philosophical platitude.
Liu Feng led him to the dining hall for the evening meal, chattering about the afternoon training he had missed while in the library. Tae-Won listened with half an ear, his mind already racing ahead to the night's excursion back to the abandoned temple.
The first day of his three-day grace period had been productive beyond his expectations. He had gained access to basic cultivation manuals, begun mapping the political landscape of Murim, and potentially cultivated an asset within the Jin Clan's walls.
Tonight, he would share some of this information with the children, beginning their transformation from street rats into a disciplined intelligence network. Tomorrow, he would return to the library to deepen his understanding of this world's cultivation systems and political dynamics.
And by the third day, he would need to be ready to refuse Elder Jin's offer without immediately signing his own death warrant.
As he ate his evening meal—considerably more substantial than breakfast, with rice, vegetables, and small portions of meat—Tae-Won felt a familiar sensation stirring within him. Not the hollow hunger of this new body, but the deeper hunger that had driven Edward Reinhart to conquer Latvaria, to challenge gods, to reshape a world in his image.
Ambition. Purpose. The inexorable drive to rise above his circumstances, to achieve greatness regardless of the obstacles placed in his path.
In this new world, with its rigid hierarchies and mystical arts, the challenges were different but the principle remained the same: power flowed to those with the vision to seize it and the will to hold it.