Training
“If your feet tangle and you fall, remember that spot as your grave and keep practicing.”
“Yes, sir!”
Gu-sam, now feeling the full force of the footwork’s power, was practically glowing with excitement as he soaked up the lesson with fierce enthusiasm.
“Don’t bend your waist so much. And don’t put your weight on the front foot. If you do, you’ll be slow to withdraw. Why are you staring at the ground? No matter how hard it gets, keep your eyes forward. Your center of gravity should always stay in the middle of your body, and you need to keep your balance. That way, you can lunge in and pull out fast in any direction—front, back, left, or right.”
Once he’d gotten the posture more or less right, I showed him how to turn by using the front and back feet as pivots.
“Wow, that’s amazing. What’s this footwork called?”
“It doesn’t have a name. Most decent experts move like this.”
I hadn’t learned it from anyone; I’d picked it up by rolling around in real fights. If I had to give it a name, maybe Eight Directions Steps would do.
It wasn’t some grand secret art, but once it was fully ingrained in the body, there wasn’t much that could match it in actual combat.
Whether you used your fists or carried a blade, if your feet were quick, you could move one or two beats ahead of your opponent.
In real fights, where life and death could turn on half a beat, that was almost a lifesaving trump card.
“If you can truly use footwork to close and open the distance between you and your opponent however you want, you won’t lose.”
“Yes, sir!”
Gu-sam answered brightly and kept hammering away at the steps.
He’d already learned the basic form. All that was left was practice. If he wanted his feet to move like water in a real fight, without freezing up when death was on the line, he’d have to repeat it over and over until it was second nature.
The movement was simple, with no flashy flourishes at all, and it should have been boring. Yet Gu-sam kept his body moving without rest, sweat streaming down him in beads.
He never even asked how long he had to keep going.
As I sat on the veranda drinking cold tea and watching him, I couldn’t help feeling a little strange.
Since leaving home, the only times I’d ever shared what I had with anyone were with a few young beggars and a handful of wandering drifters whose words I could mostly understand. Even then, it had only been wine or food.
The martial arts I’d learned, the hidden tricks I kept tucked away—they were all concealed with absolute care.
That was how everyone lived. They were criminals, after all, people I’d only happened to share a pot with for a little while. Once the job was done—or even before it was done—they might stab you in the back without warning. Being cautious was only sensible.
It was a peaceful afternoon. The sunlight was warm, and the breeze drifting down from the mountain was gentle and cool.
By the time the blue sky had turned red with sunset, Gu-sam still hadn’t stopped.
“The sun’s going down. Aren’t you heading back to the inn? You’ve got dinner service to handle.”
Only then did Gu-sam come to his senses. He yelped and bolted into the room.
He came back out carrying the empty bamboo lunchbox wrapped in cloth, along with the water bottle, and hurriedly bowed.
“Uh, s— no, sir, I mean, Great Hero, can I come again tomorrow?”
“Come at the same time to deliver food. And settle up properly with the innkeeper using the money I gave you earlier. If I catch you stealing food, you won’t be eating here anymore.”
“Yes! Don’t worry. The master’ll be happy too—he’ll say he’s got a regular customer now.”
Gu-sam quickened his steps, then turned back at the gate and bowed deeply.
“Great Hero, thank you!”
“Yeah. Get going.”
After sending him off, I closed the gate. The courtyard, sunk into silence, felt strangely chilly. Just as I was about to go inside, I paused.
Footprints, trampled countless times into the dirt.
I looked at them for a moment, then went back out with my long saber and drew it against the sunset.
Staring up at the blood-red sky beyond the wall, I slowly took my stance and began to move through the Nameless Saber Technique while stepping in rhythm with the footwork.
The eighteen forms flowed on, each breath rising and falling in a cycle of release and gathering.
The saber’s motions, sweeping in all directions, could be a raging wave smashing against a cliff or a cloud drifting unhurriedly through the sky.
For all that it was an utterly practical and brutal style, the more I used it, the broader and deeper the martial principles hidden inside it became.
I still couldn’t understand all of it, but it felt like drawing water from an inexhaustible well to make a shallow stream.
It was obvious I could one day build a great river from it, but for now, a stream was the limit of what I could achieve.
The sunset sank into darkness, and somewhere, the moon rose.
Whoosh!
Across the blade that was cutting through the dark, a fleeting moonlit bloom appeared and vanished like a night flower opening and closing in an instant.
*
Whether he practiced at the inn or not, Gu-sam’s footwork improved by the day. Even so, he still couldn’t lay a hand on me.
“Haaah, why won’t this work?”
Exhausted and collapsed, he sighed in frustration with a hollow expression.
“Because your move is too obvious.”
“The move? Ah, the feints and real attacks! Right? That’s what you mean, right?”
“If you just collect every scrap you’ve heard from somewhere, you could make a secret manual in no time.”
“I’ll try again!”
On the ninth day of daily food deliveries and footwork drills, Gu-sam’s hand finally touched my shirt.
“Huff, huff... now... we’re learning... fist techniques?”
After charging in like a madman for two full ji without stopping, he’d barely passed the test and was now sprawled on the ground.
Even as he gasped for air, Gu-sam smiled with pride. His face was smeared with sweat and dirt, but it was lit up with the satisfaction of having done it and the joy of a dream coming true.
It wasn’t a result won entirely through his own skill. At that rate, it looked like he’d never get there even after years, so I’d deliberately slowed down at the end and let him catch me.
Still, it was true that Gu-sam’s movements were much sharper than before. He hadn’t lost his footing even at the end.
“Get up. It’s time for fist techniques.”
“Yes... ngh...”
Using your fists was simple.
From the basic Eight Directions Steps stance, with the left foot one step forward, you twist your upper body slightly to the right and raise both hands.
The left hand points forward in line with the left foot, while the right hand rests naturally beneath the chin.
From there, you move in step with the footwork, avoiding or blocking attacks while driving your fist into the opening.
It was just as simple as the footwork, so it was easy to learn, but actually using it well still came down to endless repetition.
Gu-sam stirred up dust as he moved around furiously in all directions, throwing punches, then stopped and looked back at me.
“Great Hero, what kind of boxing is this?”
“It doesn’t have a name.”
“Huh? Not even the boxing? My goodness, what sort of thing doesn’t have a name?”
It was a strangely piercing question. But I didn’t particularly want to give it one now.
“Instead of worrying about that, train.”
“Yes, sir!”
A few days later, when Gu-sam came with a food delivery, there were more bruises on his face.
“That bastard at the fabric shop picked a fight with me, so I went at him.”
“You win?”
“Nope. But I landed a few hits. Hehe.”
Rubbing gently at his swollen eyelid, Gu-sam looked disappointed, but his expression wasn’t bad. His eyes were alive.
Until now, his days had been bleak ones of getting beaten up one-sidedly. Now they were bright, hopeful days, each one making him stronger than the last and filling his chest with a racing kind of expectation.
From what I heard, even after returning to the inn, he was sacrificing sleep to practice the footwork and fist techniques.
The day when he’d knock down that old enemy and let out all the frustration he’d bottled up for so long wasn’t far off.
Gu-sam kept moving steadily toward the glorious moment when he’d rule the alleyways of Seochon.
After we finished eating, we went out to the courtyard and faced each other.
“Show me a kick.”
“Like this?”
Gu-sam awkwardly lifted his foot high into the air. It looked clumsy beyond belief.
“You’re not even fully grown yet—why are your joints so stiff? Even a drunkard kicking at a barking dog would get his leg higher than that.”
“Hehe, really? I’ve been too busy making a living...”
“Let’s stretch your legs first.”
“Huh? My legs? Ah, Great Hero, if I think about it, I probably don’t really need kicking techniques after all—ahhhhhh!!”
When he tried to run, I pinned Gu-sam against the wall and pressed him down from above until his legs split open.
Fortunately, his bones still hadn’t hardened completely, and after a few tries his legs finally opened all the way.
After half a day of instruction, even his kicks started to look decent.
Once he’d learned footwork, fist strikes, and kicking, Gu-sam was so puffed up with pride he looked as if he’d just stumbled upon some peerless divine art.
“Wow, I feel like I could beat up even a bandit with a sword.”
“You can’t.”
“Then what do you do when you’re fighting someone with a sword?”
“You’d better have something in your hand too. A long blade, if possible.”
“What if I don’t have anything?”
“Then you run.”
Gu-sam blinked, rendered speechless by advice that was so brutally realistic it was almost disappointing.
“Great Hero, I once heard from a customer... that in Kaifeng there’s a sect called the Iron Blood Gate, and they’re famous for fist and kicking arts. Their sect leader supposedly smashed the Shaolin abbot’s palm staff with his bare hands and even broke swords and sabers.”
“He probably wore iron gauntlets. Made from hundred-year steel or cold iron.”
“That exists?”
“It does. Rumors are just rumors. Don’t believe anything unless you’ve seen it yourself. Train.”
“Yes, sir!”
Gu-sam diligently worked the Eight Directions Steps while pouring out punches and kicks.
After several days of correcting his posture and drilling simple but effective combinations, we finally started sparring.
“Come on.”
Gu-sam took his stance, his small fists clenched tight, face stiff with tension.
“Here I come.”
At my nod, he kicked off the ground and rushed forward, extending his left arm in a stabbing motion.
I tilted my body slightly to avoid it, and at once his right fist came flying in. Even though he’d only been at it a short while, the punch had some bite to it.
I let it slide past, and Gu-sam stepped through with his footwork, twisting his body to close the distance in an instant.
It was a reckless, almost audacious move. Maybe because this was footwork sparring, he trusted I wouldn’t counterattack, and his guard was sloppy.
I reached for the opening one beat faster. When I tapped his forehead, Gu-sam jerked and hurriedly retreated.
All that effort hadn’t been wasted, though, because his feet didn’t tangle and send him down.
Rubbing his forehead, Gu-sam moved carefully to the sides. Then he raised both hands to face height, taking a proper defensive posture before charging again.
This time, instead of dodging, I blocked the punch with my hand.
Even when repeated attacks failed, Gu-sam didn’t give up. He gritted his teeth and kept going.
His fighting spirit was good, but his motions were too big and his field of vision too narrow. He was so focused on landing hits that he couldn’t control his own movement, and instead got dragged along wherever I moved.
When I brushed aside a thrusting straight punch that had come in too deep, Gu-sam lost his balance for an instant and lurched. As I threw my own fist forward, he panicked and crossed both arms to block it.
“Ow!”
After I flicked him on the forehead with a knuckle and made him flinch, I hooked his leg and knocked him over.
Gu-sam sprang back up, brushing the dust off himself and huffing in irritation.
“Who kicks someone’s leg out like that out of nowhere? That’s cheating!”
“Are you going to say that in a real fight too? If you went through all that trouble stretching your legs, you should use them.”
Infuriated, Gu-sam started charging around with those ridiculous comments about Shifting Shapes and Swapping Positions, using his footwork to dart wildly in all directions.
His face shone with sweat, and his breathing had turned rough. He looked a little worn out, but his eyes burned brighter than ever.
We sparred at length, blocking punches, slipping kicks, probing for openings, and toppling each other in turn.
As the exchange went on, I found myself growing a little amused, and before I knew it, a faint smile had crept to my lips.
This kid really did have talent.
He had grit too—he never stayed down no matter how many times he fell, always getting back up—and his determination to keep driving toward his goal was worth watching.
I liked that, so I kept making time for him rather than ending it after a day or two. But that was as far as the teaching went.
Even this much, if he polished it for a month or two, would make him hard to beat among the neighborhood brats.
Starting the next day, I let Gu-sam practice on his own while I went about my own business.
After eating slowly and drinking tea, I went outside, corrected his posture for a moment, then cut bamboo in the grove and brought it back.
Sitting on the veranda, I split the bamboo with a short saber, folded a long leaf at an angle, and pinned it in place.
I was lousy at this sort of thing, and the first few tries were complete failures.
I finally held up a windmill I’d barely managed to finish and blew on it. For whatever reason, it wouldn’t turn properly.
After scratching my head and thinking for a long while, and failing a few more times, I finally managed to complete one.
When the pinwheel spun briskly and brightly, Gu-sam wiped the sweat from his brow and came running over.
“Wow, you made that, Great Hero?”
“Can’t you tell by looking?”
“Can I have one too?”
“If you win.”
“Really?”
“Have you spent your whole life getting fooled?”
“Nope.”
Gu-sam said it with total seriousness. I looked at him for a moment, then snorted a laugh.
Well, this was the kind of world where you might get beaten, but you didn’t get to live by being fooled.
Once talent was joined with effort, results came quickly.
Exactly seven days after that, Gu-sam finally achieved the accomplishment of a lifetime.