6: So I am immortal now!?

"A golden core." Chan nodded, fingers on top of Jisung's wrist, checking his meridians.

Jisung who thought the name golden core was for a sword came to know it wasn't the actual scenario. Golden core, as Chan explained when Minho went on with his usual silent mode, was typically formed after a cultivator successfully passes through the initial stages of cultivation.

Cultivators with a golden core generally have increased longevity and enhanced physical and mystical abilities. The golden core acts as the primary source of a cultivator's power. It stores and refines their spiritual energy, allowing them to perform powerful techniques and spells.

"Brother." Chan smiled at Jisung and Minho in reassurance.

"Exceptionally strong. You said you fought toe-to-toe?"

"Jisung's skill was considerable." Minho confirmed. If it wasn't for the fact that everything was turning upside down for Jisung, he would have celebrated and did a mini twerking at Minho's praise.  

"I have a golden core?" He looked between the brothers, then to his own chest. Like he could feel something by staring. Mostly, he just felt normal. "Wait, could I become an immortal?"

"Technically, you are one already," Chan said. "But only through continued cultivation does one take care of the golden core."

"How is this possible? Our world doesn't have immortals and monsters."

Chan considered him. "You mentioned you have been practising sword forms from a young age?"

"Yeah, me and my brother. But that was, like, a hobby. We did it for fun. Madam-- ah, my foster mom, she hired us a teacher who practised traditional sword fighting."

He considered how the man's nod of approval had made him feel good. In his early years, he had put in a lot of practice because he was a passionate, motivated learner, and possibly even a little prodigy.

There had never been any flying on swords or huge leaps or magic of any kind.

"I see." There was the tiniest bit of frown on the elder's face. "Well, my working theory is this; you have been practising traditional cultivation in a world with no spiritual energy. Your body adjusts appropriately to this world once you have crossed over.

Jisung nodded like he understood. He very specifically did not. "Right, anything else you want to tell me about my body that I don't know about? Any weird birthmarks? Am I carrying a child?"

At the concerned silence of the brothers he laughed.

"Oh, come on, it's kind of stupid. I am just a dude in Seoul studying business one day, and the next I am some kind of powerful immortal cultivator. I am allowed to be a little comical about it."

Chan smiled gently. "Master Jisung.."

"A child," said Minho. "Is that a real concern?"

It took him a moment to understand.

"What, pregnancy?" Jisung snorted. "Minho! Do I not look like a man to you?"

With bright red ears Minho replied, "You have told me a lot of absurd things about where you are from."

"Oh my god." Without being able to look at Minho's scrunched-up, ashamed face, Jisung fell flat with laughter. "Oh my god, Minho! It was a joke! I can't have kids! I mean, not like that, hahaha!"

Minho released a breath that, to most, would have been taken as an insult, but to Minho, it sounded more like the tiniest little exhale. Chan shook his head.

"Well, I am glad you two came here, in any case." Chan said, turning to a scroll by the table. "Master Jisung's situation has several possible causes that Uncle and I have narrowed down. Although neither of them works instantly..."

Immediately Jisung straightened, all ears. "Yeah? What do you think happened to me?"

"Records of such incidents are rare, and those that do exist usually involve individuals who left and later returned, often bearing tales of locations very dissimilar to our own. Frequently, they discuss various mystical items that fulfil desires."

Jisung stared somewhere past Chan. He wondered whether he'd been accidentally making wishes to any spiritual objects a few days ago, but could not recall doing any such thing. He didn't really spend time wishing, anyway. There was so much to do, in his regular life.

He'd been really struggling with school. He had also fallen behind on his rent since losing his cleaning job due to dozing off during a shift. Only through Hwang siblings picking up where he fell short did he even have an apartment. If anything, he'd wished he could just...

Jisung shook his head. "No, I don't recall any wish-granting objects. Or even making any wishes."

"That's fine. That was not the more likely option, in any case," Chan said. "As you've mentioned, these things do not happen in your reality. In ours, they might be rare, but..."

"What is the other option?" Minho asked.

Clearing his throat, Chan replied, "Ah. Well, there was a full moon the night Master  Jisung wandered into the Geumgangsan, yes?"

"Yeah," Jisung confirmed. "I mean, once I got here, there definitely was a moon."

"Some of the stories mention the full moon. Fated meeting."

"Ha, what?" Jisung blinked, glancing quickly at Minho who was definitely still staring at his brother. With a very blank face.

"It seems that sometimes certain events should take place, and some meetings should happen, despite everything," Chan continued, and didn't even sound like he was pulling this all out of his ass. "Under the moon, people who are fated to meet see each other for the first time. The universe arranges itself to do this."

Jisung snorted. "Wow. Okay. So that's all very good and even kind of romantic, but let's be real here; highly unlikely. What's the third option?"

The sect leader of Geumgangsan, Lee Chan, in all his grace and dignity, levelled him an exasperated look.

"There's no third option."

"Right. So it's either genie in a bottle or, like, the universe making sure I get laid."

"Fated meeting does not necessarily have to mean a romance," Chan said, then, weirdly, glanced at his brother. "It merely means that it is important for these people to meet. This often averts unnecessary suffering."

Jisung flashed back to his life in Seoul and felt a pang of guilt for it. What he had back then was nothing more than the consequences of his decisions.

"There was mention of a woman who could not have a child. Then, one day in the moonlight, she travelled to a location where she met her soulmate, who took her to a healer. When their son was born, they returned only to visit."

"He probably took her to a fertility clinic," Jisung said, and then, "No, wait, hold up! They went back and forth?"

"Indeed. It appears that every year on the day they first met, she could travel between the dimensions, even take her loved ones with her."

Jisung's brain felt like scrambled eggs. No way, this was so dumb. So ridiculous. Extremely funny, but also so stupid.

"So what you're telling me is.." he started. "I've been brought here by the universe, because it's important that I have tea with Minho or whatever, and now I have to spend a year here so we can test if this theory holds up?"

Chan looked like he was battling between amusement and compassion, and the compassion was winning only by a hair.

Minho wasn't even looking at him. The man's face was entirely blank as he stared somewhere through the window, so far off into the distance that his presence in the room was only physical. A queasy feeling went through Jisung.

"A fated meeting merely means a meeting that is fated to happen. It is an event beyond our control, and thus we should not base any conclusions about ourselves on it." Chan said gently.

Jisung thought about the bright moon that night. He'd thought it was a street lamp. So dumb.

"Besides the moonlight and the crossing of dimensions, there was one common point between the accounts in the texts. All of the people this happened to were better off afterward."

And while the words were kind and meant to be comforting, Jisung couldn't help the heaviness settling in his stomach.

"I'm...I'm really going to be spending a year here," his voice had turned weirdly small.

Chan nodded. "If there is another explanation, it is something to which our library does not hold an answer. And by all the details of this, it really does seem likely that..."

"..."

There was a deadline for an accounting course last night. The completed assignments were supposed to be downloaded to the server by 23:59. Jisung had already failed that course once—a month after being kicked out. He was going to fail yet again.

He wondered what kind of mess he would find in Seoul a year from now. Some aching, ugly part of him was relieved that it had been taken out of his hands, that it had been blown for him in a way that had nothing to do with his own bad decisions.

He wouldn't graduate, he realised now. He would not become a stupid business major, and the Hwang siblings would never forgive him.

"Ah, fuck." he sighed. He could feel the wetness in his eyes, but he refused to blink and let it overflow into tears. Turning away from Chan and Minho, he rubbed it onto the clean whiteness of his sleeves.

"Master Jisung." Chan started, and the awful edge of pity was enough for Jisung to force his mouth around the shape of a smile.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, no need to get all sad about this." He stated, managing to keep his voice stable. "It's a year, right? A year is a short time. No time at all, in fact. Plenty of things to do in the meanwhile."

He turned back to the brothers, both of whom were now searching his face for...something. Minho's mouth was a thin line, the gold in his eyes tinting dark. His hands were held behind his ramrod-straight back.

Jisung let out a laugh, and if it sounded a little weird even to his own ears, that was fine. "Ah, Minho, this is bad news for you, isn't it? You have to play house with me for a year."

After a momentary pause, Minho replied, "I do not mind." That, out of all things, got Jisung feeling a little choked up. A little better.

"Cool," he replied, and while the smile was a little wobbly now, it was at least genuine.

Jisung straightened, dusting his robes lightly as if it would remove the grass stains he had acquired during the sword fight. A year's worth of free lodging, sword fights, and no business school. He was unconcerned about how worried the Hwang siblings were too.

A year off from his shitty life in Seoul? Sounded like a dream to him.