The Eternal Flower Beggar King Chapter 104 – Training Attempt (Part One)

The Eternal Flower Beggar King Chapter 104 – Training Attempt (Part One)

Dawn.

He rose as he had vowed yesterday. He walked out to the yard barefoot. Cold earth met his soles. He loosened his body slowly. He swung his arms. He bent his waist. He woke his muscles. It felt lighter than yesterday.

He began to run.

One lap. Two laps. Three. His breath rose — but he did not stop. Four. Five. Six. Sweat ran down his forehead. Winter air turned his body to steam. Seven. Eight. Nine. His legs grew heavy — but he endured. Ten.

He stopped.

He went to the well, panting. He drew cold water with the well bucket. He splashed it on his face. The chill ran down his cheeks. It mixed with sweat and dripped below his chin. He splashed once more. His mind cleared.

"Today… is the real beginning."

He murmured and wiped his face. He shook the water from his hands. He crossed the yard toward the back room.

Back room — early morning.

He sat on the bed.

He took out the manual. He spread it across his knees. A faint ink scent rose from old paper. He pulled the lantern closer. The characters sharpened.

The Yongcheon point. The deepest spot on the sole. A warm ember rises from there.

He traced the characters with his finger. He read slowly.

Steady the breath. Gather all focus on the Yongcheon point. At first, nothing will be felt. Endure and wait — a faint warmth will sprout. That is the beginning of fire energy.

He closed his eyes.

He gathered his awareness at his sole. The left Yongcheon point. The hollow below the toes. He focused every nerve there.

He inhaled. Air entered through his nose. It filled his lungs. He exhaled slowly. Inhaled again. Exhaled. He steadied his breathing. He thought only of the Yongcheon point.

A warm ember. Rising fire energy. A faint warmth.

Nothing.

Only cold skin. His sole pressed the bed. Cool wood pushed against his heel. That was all.

He kept focusing.

He counted his breaths. One. Two. Three… ten. Back to one. Counting kept stray thoughts away. Yongcheon. Yongcheon. Yongcheon. He repeated it. He fixed his mind there.

Time passed.

How long had it been? Perhaps ten minutes. Still — nothing. No warmth. The cold only grew sharper. The more he focused, the more the chill stood out.

He waited longer.

He kept counting breaths. Twenty. Thirty. Forty… one hundred. He waited for anything. The faint warmth the manual described. The beginning of fire energy. Anything at all.

Nothing.

He opened his eyes.

Sunlight streamed through the window. Morning had fully arrived. The room was bright. The lantern seemed pointless now. How long had he sat there?

He looked down at his sole. No change. Just an ordinary sole.

He touched the Yongcheon point. Cold. No warmth at all.

"Was there… anything?"

He asked himself — but had no answer. While focusing, something had seemed to itch. Something faintly warm, perhaps. But it could have been delusion. Did I imagine it from trying too hard?

He shook his head.

"Of course not. But doing nothing would be worse."

He closed the manual. He stood. He straightened his clothes. He went to the shop. Time to open the door. Time to prepare for business.

Afternoon — a lull between customers.

Morning passed. Afternoon arrived.

Customers were sparse. Jinhwa sat at the counter. He rested briefly. A thought struck him.

What if… the Hwasan Sect simbeop could work too?

If Yeong Saeng Hwa Je Gong awakened fire energy — could that fire energy open the meridians? The manual said meridians were not used. But if fire energy itself arose — could other arts become possible?

He rose. He went to the back room.

He opened the drawer. He pulled out an old book. The simbeop manual Elder Cheongheo had given him when he left the Hwasan Sect. The cover was worn. Corners frayed. Dust had gathered. He brushed it off and opened it.

Focus your awareness on the dantian.

The first line caught his eye.

Inhale and gather the energy of heaven and earth. Exhale and store it in the dantian. When energy gathers, warmth will be felt. That is the seed of internal power.

He had read this sentence hundreds of times at the Hwasan Sect. He remembered clearly — a full year of following it, feeling nothing. Senior brothers had rejoiced after a single month. My dantian feels warm! Jinhwa had felt only emptiness.

But now he knew Yeong Saeng Hwa Je Gong. He had learned how fire energy worked. Perhaps — just perhaps.

He sat on the bed.

He closed his eyes. He focused on the dantian. Three chon below the navel. He inhaled deeply. He imagined gathering heaven-and-earth energy. Air entered his nose and filled his lungs. He pictured it descending to the dantian.

Ten minutes passed.

Nothing. The dantian was silent. No energy gathered.

Twenty minutes passed.

Still empty. Energy would not collect. It was exactly like the Hwasan Sect days.

He opened his eyes.

"As I thought… it doesn't work."

A sigh escaped. It was obvious. Without water meridians, the pathways were blocked. Blocked pathways meant no circulation. Reading Yeong Saeng Hwa Je Gong did not create water meridians.

This art did not break through meridians. It bypassed them. He knew that. He had tried anyway — out of lingering hope.

He closed the book.

"Right… it was never going to be easy."

He went back to the shop. A customer was entering.

Near evening.

He saw off the last customer. He went out to the rear yard. He carried the water jar toward the well.

He lowered the bucket. He drew water. The rope bit into his palm. His arm muscles pulled taut. The full bucket was heavy. He poured it into the jar. Water sloshed.

He gripped the bucket with both hands. He raised it to his chin. He walked the yard holding it high.

Water sloshed — but did not spill. He felt his muscles working in this posture. He circled the yard holding it. He raised and lowered the jar. He felt the strain build in his arms.

He set the jar down. He caught his breath. He reflected on what he had just done. Holding balance. Feeling the ground through his soles. Absorbing impact. A thoughtless routine — yet surprisingly complex.

A passage from the manual surfaced.

Experience creates the form. Habit determines the power.

Carrying water was experience. It was habit. But what did it have to do with martial arts? It was just carrying water.

"…Probably nothing."

He shook his head. He picked up the jar. He carried it inside the shop.

Sunset — rear yard.

The sun was tilting.

Jinhwa crouched in the rear yard and thought. Breathing exercises — failed. Hwasan Sect simbeop — failed. What was he supposed to do? He felt lost.

Maybe external training, at least…

In that instant, Cheolposam surfaced. The Iron Shirt method. Striking the body to temper skin and muscle. A famous Shaolin training regimen. Well known across the jianghu. At first, bruises turned blue-black. After a month, no more bruises. After two months, wooden clubs would snap.

A martial artist must be accustomed to pain. One must experience many training methods.

It hurts at first. But internal energy naturally gathers at the struck area. That is how it hardens.

Jinhwa picked up a fist-sized stone. The surface was rough. Its weight sat heavy in his hand.

He hesitated.

Then he struck his left forearm.

"Ngh…"

Pain.

A bone-deep shock spread through his arm. Skin-tearing pain followed. He clenched his teeth. He struck again.

Pain.

Three times. Four. Five. It only hurt. He could not absorb the shock — not like Shaolin monks with their internal energy. He had no internal energy. He was simply being hit.

He struck for roughly ten minutes.

His forearm throbbed. He touched it. It was swollen. Dark, reddish blood had spread beneath the skin. A bruise.

He dropped the stone. It hit the ground with a flat, hollow sound.

"This… doesn't work either."

A bitter smile. Without internal energy, the result was obvious. Martial artists protected and tempered their bodies with internal power. Jinhwa could not.

He rubbed his bruised forearm. He stood. The sun had fully set. Darkness was falling.

Night.

He lit the lantern for evening customers. He went to the back room. He brought the manual out to the counter and spread it open.

Something must have been missed. He needed to read again from the start.

He turned past Chapter One. He opened Chapter Two. The Theory of Point‑to‑Point Circulation. He had read it several times already. Then his finger stopped on one passage.

Fire energy does not circulate.

He reread it slowly.

Knowledge from the Hwasan Sect resurfaced. In ordinary arts, internal energy circulates along the meridians. It begins at the dantian. It travels the body. It returns to the dantian. This is the Small Heavenly Cycle. This is the Grand Heavenly Cycle.

During that circulation, internal energy seeps into muscle, bone, and skin. As water seeps into earth — energy seeps into the body. It strengthens the frame. That is why masters block blades bare-handed. That is why they shatter boulders with fists.

Cheolposam worked the same way. Strike the body — internal energy gathers there. It absorbs the impact. It tempers the area. A method possible only with circulation.

But Yeong Saeng Hwa Je Gong…

Fire energy does not circulate.

It was not circulation.

Point connects to point. Energy fills the body.

It was filling.

Jinhwa's eyes widened.

"So that's it…"

He touched his bruised forearm. Throbbing pain answered.

No circulation meant energy did not travel the body. If it did not travel, it did not seep into muscle, bone, or skin. If it did not seep in, the body was not strengthened.

"This art… cannot make the body strong."

That was why Cheolposam had failed. No internal energy circulating meant no shock absorption. He was simply being struck. No matter how long he struck himself — only bruises. Never hardening.

The Hwasan Sect simbeop failing was obvious too. Blocked meridians meant circulation was impossible. Yeong Saeng Hwa Je Gong did not break open those meridians — it went around them. An entirely different path from the start.

Another passage from the manual surfaced.

The body must be cultivated as well. Run. Jump. Lift. Throw. Each geun of muscle added holds one more fistful of fire energy.

Now he understood.

This art could not protect the body with internal energy. Wrapping oneself in protective aura — as ordinary fighters did — was impossible. Pure physical conditioning alone was the defense. That was why the manual had stressed body training so heavily.

"Then…"

He murmured and gazed out the window.

The moon hung in the sky. A near-full moon cast soft light between the clouds.

"No matter how strong I become… a blade will cut. A fist will land."

Saying it aloud made the weight real. That was the truth — for life. Even after forty years of Yeong Saeng Hwa Je Gong, internal energy would never shield his body.

"This art… will not protect me."

A bitter smile.

But there was no other choice. For a man without water meridians — learn this art, or abandon martial arts entirely. One or the other.

He took out his notebook.

He lifted his brush. He began writing. Writing made things stick.

Characteristics of Yeong Saeng Hwa Je Gong:

Ink seeped into the paper, becoming words.

First — fire energy does not circulate. It is emitted.

Second — therefore, the body cannot be strengthened by internal energy.

Third — circulation-based methods — Hwasan simbeop, Cheolposam — are useless.

Fourth — physical conditioning is possible only through pure bodily training.

Fifth — this art will not protect me. I must protect myself.

He finished the last line. He set down the brush.

What could not be done, he now knew. What could not work — he would stop doing. He would focus on what could. No need to cling to the Hwasan simbeop. No need to bruise himself with Cheolposam.

He turned to the next page.

Today's training record:

He began writing.

Day One. Yongcheon point focus — no change. No fire energy felt.

Hwasan Sect simbeop attempt — failure. No energy gathered in the dantian.

Cheolposam attempt — failure. Impossible without internal energy. Only bruised the forearm.

Realization: this art does not circulate. It will not protect the body.

Starting tomorrow: focus more on physical conditioning. Running. Iron‑ox posture. Water jar.

He closed the notebook.

Late night — the bed.

He sat on the bed again.

He had gained insight. He needed to try once more. This time — with a different mindset.

He closed his eyes. He focused on the Yongcheon point.

He steadied his breath. He gathered awareness at his sole. This time he did not expect circulation. He simply waited for fire energy to sprout there. An ember — pooling until it burst.

Ten minutes passed.

Still cold.

Twenty minutes passed.

Nothing.

He opened his eyes.

"As expected… it won't happen overnight."

He sighed — but did not despair. The manual had said it clearly. One year until the first ember. Today was only the first day.

He opened the notebook to the last page.

Tomorrow, I continue.

A short line. He closed the notebook.

He lay down on the bed.

He stared at the ceiling. He recalled today's attempts. Yongcheon focus. Hwasan simbeop. Cheolposam. All had failed. But he had gained understanding. He understood this art's nature a little more now.

He touched his bruised forearm. It throbbed. By tomorrow it would be darker still.

He gathered awareness at his sole. The Yongcheon point. Still cold. No warmth at all.

Moonlight came through the window.

"Do I feel… anything?"

He asked himself. No answer came.

The Yongcheon point remained cold.

That was all right. It was still the first day. The manual said one year. Fifty-one weeks remained. Tomorrow he would rise at dawn and run. He would do the iron-ox posture. He would lift the water jar. And at night — he would focus again on the Yongcheon point.

Someday he would feel it.

Someday.

Slowly. But surely.

He closed his eyes. He needed sleep for tomorrow. There was business to tend. There was training to do.

He slipped gently into sleep.