Chapter 80. Youngwoo's Training (3) – Refining Qi into Spirit
The Small Medicine no longer scattered.
In stillness, it deepened.
Youngwoo did not move.
His breath was long, his mind settled downward.
At some point, the Small Medicine grew heavier.
It was no longer a flow—it sank as a single mass.
It settled deep in the lower abdomen.
Youngwoo's awareness reached it.
He did not push.
He did not grasp.
He simply watched.
Time layered itself.
No—the time he had spent training formed strata, and upon them more layers accumulated.
Now he understood why it was called a hundred days.
Like the rings of an ancient tree, it built itself layer upon layer.
A day passed, then another.
Yet it did not change.
It became clearer.
A quiet warmth remained within.
It seemed as if he was not breathing, yet it did not cease.
At some moment, his breathing changed.
It was no longer inhalation and exhalation.
It was a breath that remained.
Embryonic breathing.
Youngwoo's body sank ever so slightly.
As though submerged in deep water, all sensation softened and pressed inward.
Within that depth, the mass changed.
Its condensation grew firmer.
And then—it began to take form.
At first, it was only a presence.
Something that seemed to exist, yet could not be seen.
With his eyes closed, Youngwoo observed it.
Gradually, it sharpened.
A shape formed.
It was the shape of a person.
His own form.
Very small.
Yet unmistakably there.
His breath did not waver.
That form sat quietly within him.
In the same posture.
With the same breath.
More time passed.
The deeper the stillness grew, the clearer the form became.
It was no longer vague.
It carried light.
Even within darkness, it stood distinct.
Then—it moved.
Slightly, yet undeniably.
Youngwoo's breath grew even softer.
His awareness did not shake.
The form grew within him.
Slowly, steadily.
Little by little.
At some point, the boundary between inside and outside thinned.
His body grew light.
It felt as if another existence had appeared.
Another presence, layered over him.
The form did not remain within his body.
It expanded outward.
And overlapped with his present self.
Then—
it stood.
Before him.
Even with his eyes closed, he could see it.
Even without opening them, he could feel it.
It was like a person.
It had breath.
It had presence.
Yet it was not flesh.
It was the Nourished Spirit.
Youngwoo's awareness rested quietly within it.
Unshaken.
At that moment, the air changed.
Something descended—
so faint it could not be sensed at first.
Then it scattered like light.
Like petals.
Invisible petals drifted downward.
They settled gently upon the still space.
Youngwoo did not move.
The Nourished Spirit stood.
Unshaken.
It remained there.
Completely.
Whole.
He said nothing.
He simply remained.
Anyone else would have awakened from this state,
run about proclaiming it, rejoicing loudly.
For Youngwoo, it was different.
This too was only a passing stage.
He had attained quickly,
but it was no more than a step all must pass.
So he continued.
Still, there was more to train.
With his master's guidance, he had completed one cycle of circulation,
and since then had not stopped for a single moment.
In truth, he did not even know what state he was in.
At times it was warm.
At times it was merely lukewarm.
What did that matter?
There were those who celebrated such things as attainment.
Yet what difference was there
between slight warmth and lying on a heated floor?
One day, his vision sharpened—
distant things appeared as though near.
Voices speaking ill of him far away
seemed to sound right beside him.
His master had warned him.
Do not fix your mind on such phenomena.
They may appear as signs of attainment,
but they are obstacles that hinder the path.
Become captivated by them,
and you will lose the way.
Youngwoo followed that teaching exactly.
Stubbornly.
Simply.
At dawn,
he licked his lips and crawled out of his tent.
"Ah…"
Then—
twenty-five of his comrades
were gathered before his tent.
"Hey… what are you all doing here?"
It was a question that missed the moment entirely.
So Cheolryong turned and jumped.
"He's out! He's out!"
Youngwoo asked again.
"What are you doing?"
"What do you mean—watching you train, of course."
"Who told you to watch? I do this every day."
So Cheolryong's eyes widened.
"You don't know?"
"Know what?"
"Something strange happened."
"Well, I'm always strange, aren't I?"
Only Youngwoo did not understand.
"Your tent—light burst out of it."
"What? I was just sitting there."
"Not that kind of burst—light poured out!"
"Maybe I forgot to dim the lamp."
"No, I'm telling you—something happened!"
Only then did Youngwoo look around.
Familiar faces surrounded him.
Ignoring the cold,
they had gathered there.
To guard him.
"Ah, come on… you didn't need to do this."
"There was a sign!"
"It's nothing. Tricks don't matter. What's the difference? Just like performers—it's only something to watch."
"No! You achieved it!"
Only then—
he remembered.
The moment when his insides had become transparent.
The sensation of rising lightly,
floating through the world.
He had thought it was only within his mind.
But—
it had manifested outward.
"You mean… it showed outside?"
"Yes. The whole field turned red."
"Then we won't need lamps anymore."
He smiled faintly.
"Well… it did feel a little strange."
Even then, he did not make much of it.
Not out of false modesty—
but because, deep down,
he truly believed himself to be nothing special.
And—
their conversations were always like this.
Either they failed to connect,
or they connected too well, repeating endlessly.
Gyeongtaek came rushing over.
"It was a miracle! Everyone saw it! The sky lit up!"
"It's meaningless. If you dwell on that, you'll never become a master. It's just a sign to train harder."
"No—you looked like a great sage descended. Try it again."
Gyeongtaek spread his hand toward the open field.
"I just came out to rest…"
He grabbed Youngwoo's arm.
"I'm sure something has changed."
"What could have changed?"