Chapter 2
Chapter 2
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Spring Comes to Mount Hua Too (2)
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The spring on Mount Hua, renowned for its blade-sharp ridges, was fragrant. The rich plum blossom scent carried on the wind. Right now, plum blossoms were blooming all at once across Mount Hua.
Dam-ho walked through the fragrance of plum blossoms. It seemed as though petals settled on his shoulders with every step.
Dam-ho paused for a moment and looked around.
Plum trees filled every direction. The blossoms unfurled in splendid displays, each vying for attention.
Dam-ho reached out his hand. As if by magic, a plum petal drifted on the wind and landed in his palm. He gazed at it for a long while.
Mount Hua's spring was the height of plum blossom season. That was why people thought of plum blossoms when they heard of the Mount Hua Sect. Perhaps because of this, the sect's martial arts often incorporated plum blossoms.
The Plum Blossom Fist and Twenty-Four Forms Plum Blossom Sword were prime examples.
Because of this, there was a preconception that Mount Hua Sect techniques were light and flashy. In fact, many of the sect's martial arts fit that description.
The wind blew again, carrying away the plum petal from Dam-ho's palm. He reached out to catch it. But the petal slipped softly between his fingers.
Dam-ho clenched his fist tight.
To him, the Mount Hua Sect's martial arts were like those plum blossoms. Seemingly graspable, yet always slipping away.
Dam-ho shook his head and resumed walking.
After walking for some time, he arrived at Taepyeong Palace.
In Mount Hua's knife-edge terrain, Taepyeong Palace occupied the broadest flat expanse.
Modeled after the Thirty-Six Heavens of the Celestial Realm, Taepyeong Palace was enormous. The sect's major and minor events took place here, and it was where Mount Hua Sect disciples trained their martial arts.
In the training grounds, many people were practicing. Their appearances varied widely, as did their ages.
The youngest looked about twelve, the oldest in their mid-twenties.
"Hah! Hah!"
Sweat poured ceaselessly from their faces as they shouted their kiais.
Those displaying the Crouching Tiger Fist—the foundation of Mount Hua Sect martial arts—were the lay disciples. An instructor bellowed at them.
"When you throw a punch, put your full power into it. Use every muscle in your body, like a tiger bursting from its lair."
"Yes!"
At his tiger-like roar, the practicing disciples responded in unison.
"Shift from Crouching Tiger Emerges from the Cave to Great Tiger Emerges into the World."
"Yes!"
With their reply, the lay disciples' forms changed. A fierce, ferocious momentum erupted, like a tiger charging from its den into the world.
Dam-ho stopped for a moment to watch their training.
The instructor guiding the lay disciples was Jin-gyeong, a first-generation disciple of the Mount Hua Sect and master of the Plum Blossom Fist.
He was usually cheerful, but when teaching martial arts, he became a cold-blooded demon without pity or tears. For this reason, the lay disciples called him the Poison-Heart Asura—a nickname they uttered with reluctance.
In the midst of instructing the lay disciples, Jin-gyeong suddenly waved toward Dam-ho.
"Junior Brother Cheon-gyeong."
The icy aura from moments ago vanished, replaced by a friendly smile. Dam-ho shook his head slightly in response.
Cheon-gyeong was the Daoist name he had received in the Mount Hua Sect.
Three years after receiving it, it still felt unfamiliar. Like wearing someone else's clothes, it was uncomfortable.
But Dam-ho hid his inner thoughts and approached Jin-gyeong.
"What brings you here? Come to see your senior brother?"
"I was on my way to Yeongbo Palace."
"Yeongbo Palace?"
A glint appeared in Jin-gyeong's eyes.
Yeongbo Palace housed the books compiling the Mount Hua Sect's martial arts. As one of the sect's most vital places, it was heavily guarded, and access was strictly controlled.
Lay disciples were naturally forbidden entry, and even among inner sect disciples, only first-generation disciples and above could enter.
Though he was like Jin-gyeong's youngest brother, Dam-ho was also a first-generation disciple of the Mount Hua Sect. Entry was permitted. But in truth, Yeongbo Palace held few worthwhile martial arts manuals. Most were Daoist scriptures related to the Dao.
The sect's true ultimate techniques could not be learned from books. The experiences and insights that no few lines of text could convey were passed only through direct instruction.
The Mount Hua Sect—one of the Nine Great Sects—had once greatly declined because it lost its previous generation's masters all at once, those who could impart their personal insights.
Now, it was gradually regaining its former glory, but it still fell far short of its peak. There simply weren't enough true masters to provide proper guidance.
Above all, Master Hyeon-so—the Daoist who had taken Dam-ho as a disciple—did not practice martial arts, for some reason. He was the only scholarly Daoist on Mount Hua.
When he announced taking Dam-ho as a disciple, everyone had opposed it for that very reason.
What Mount Hua needed now were powerful warriors. A scholarly Daoist who studied scriptures couldn't properly teach martial arts to a disciple.
Nor did the other elders have the spare attention for Master Hyeon-so's disciple. Moreover, Dam-ho had a fatal weakness when it came to learning martial arts.
Master Hyeon-so had accepted Dam-ho as a disciple despite the opposition. Thanks to his status as a Mount Hua elder, Dam-ho became a first-generation inner sect disciple. But this also became a major obstacle to learning martial arts, as the opposing elders were reluctant to teach him.
"You're really diligent. Keep at it like this, and someday you'll surely break through your limits."
Jin-gyeong's gaze unconsciously drifted to Dam-ho's left leg.
A fatal weakness for a martial artist. A fact known to all disciples of the Mount Hua Sect.
Though he said this, Jin-gyeong didn't truly believe Dam-ho could overcome it. The sect's martial arts were not lenient enough for a lame leg.
Dam-ho read the pity in Jin-gyeong's eyes. But he bowed his head as if unperturbed.
"I'll head to Yeongbo Palace now."
"Alright, take care."
Dam-ho passed Jin-gyeong and headed toward the back of Taepyeong Palace.
"That cripple is a first-generation disciple of the Mount Hua Sect?"
"Can he even perform martial arts properly with a body like that?"
The lay disciples whispered as they watched his retreating figure.
"Who dares chatter during training?"
At Jin-gyeong's stern command, the lay disciples clamped their mouths shut like clams. But their words had already reached Dam-ho's ears.
Even so, Dam-ho did not stop walking. He had heard such talk countless times, felt such gazes often. His resolve was not so fragile as to waver from this.
Passing Taepyeong Palace, he arrived at Yeongbo Palace.
It appeared ordinary from outside, but the entrance held intricate mechanisms. Without the guarding warriors disarming them, no one could approach.
The master of Yeongbo Palace was Master Hyeon-mu, Master Hyeon-so's senior brother and one of the Mount Hua Sect elders. The guards were first- and second-generation disciples trained by Master Hyeon-mu.
Jong-gyeong, a first-generation disciple, recognized Dam-ho.
"You're here again today."
"Senior Brother."
"Heading into Yeongbo Palace?"
"Yes!"
"You're persistent. Go on in."
"Thank you."
Dam-ho bowed in greeting and entered Yeongbo Palace. Jong-gyeong personally disarmed the mechanisms.
Inside Yeongbo Palace, bookshelves lined the space, filled with books. Not only Mount Hua Sect martial arts manuals but also a wide variety of general works.
Though fully enclosed, a subtle light filtered in from somewhere, enough to read by.
Dam-ho's fingers trailed over the books on the shelves. Though Yeongbo Palace collected all the sect's martial arts books, their number was surprisingly small. Many had been lost in a great calamity decades ago.
He had visited countless times. He could now recall the position of every book with his eyes closed.
Click!
Dam-ho's finger caught on a worn book. Without hesitation, he pulled it out.
Bamboo Leaf Hand.
That was written on the tattered cover.
Bamboo Leaf Hand was one of the Mount Hua Sect's most basic hand techniques, alongside Crouching Tiger Fist and Six Harmonies Fist. It was mainly taught to lay disciples. It was not a technique for a first-generation disciple like Dam-ho to learn. Yet he could not tear his eyes from the Bamboo Leaf Hand manual.
Bamboo Leaf Hand consisted of three forms.
Bamboo Leaf Cuts the Air.
Flying Leaf Travels a Thousand Li.
Leaf Thrust Pierces the Sun.
Despite their grandiose names, each was simple and efficient.
Dam-ho fixed his gaze on the manual and executed the Bamboo Leaf Hand forms with his free hand.
Whoosh!
Thrust, strike, deflect, pull—the fluid sequence flowed without pause. The air in Yeongbo Palace rippled with his movements.
Even in the narrow space between shelves, Dam-ho performed Bamboo Leaf Hand freely. After completing the forms from start to finish, he stared at the manual again, lost in thought.
'Bamboo Leaf Hand is certainly swift. But it lacks weight, so it can't unleash proper power until reaching a high realm.'
Of course, at mastery, Bamboo Leaf Hand could rival a hammer blow. In the past, Mount Hua Daoists had split boulders with it alone.
But those were tales of old. Now, Mount Hua Sect disciples treated Bamboo Leaf Hand as a cursory study, not delving deeply.
If only Dam-ho's leg were sound, he wouldn't obsess over it. Bamboo Leaf Hand was one of the few Mount Hua techniques that didn't require separate footwork.
For Dam-ho, unable to properly learn kicking or stepping techniques, it was the most suitable option.
Dam-ho obsessively probed the forms and principles etched in his mind. Even in the dim light, his eyes gleamed fiercely.
This was a much tempered gaze. When he first arrived at Mount Hua, his eyes had brimmed with venomous malice. So intense that even the sect elders shook their heads.
Five years had passed, and Dam-ho had grown. His gaze had become incomparably calmer. People thought he had softened greatly.
But they were mistaken. Dam-ho had not softened. He had merely gained the patience to conceal his gaze.
Dam-ho sensed the beast lurking within him.
A endlessly savage, cruel beast breathed in sync with him. It waited only for the day Dam-ho would unleash it.
Suppressing the beast inside, Dam-ho pulled out another book.
Crouching Tiger Fist.
This was the fist art the lay disciples were practicing in Taepyeong Palace's training grounds. One of the Mount Hua Sect's foundational techniques, like Bamboo Leaf Hand, its forms were simple yet immensely powerful.
Dam-ho held the manual in one hand and executed Crouching Tiger Fist with the other.
Boom!
Air burst from the punch, bereft of inner energy.
Fast, concise, and carrying substantial weight.
Crouching Tiger Fist was one of the techniques that began with the Mount Hua Sect. In ancient times, when the sect first settled Mount Hua, it existed and shared its history.
But as time passed, countless ultimate arts surpassing Crouching Tiger Fist's power were created.
In the end, like Bamboo Leaf Hand, Crouching Tiger Fist devolved into a basic art for lay disciples. Everyone saw it as a stepping stone to higher techniques, not worth deep study—even the elders.
But Dam-ho delved into Crouching Tiger Fist obsessively. The deeper his attainment, the more a question arose.
'The Carefree Heart Technique doesn't suit learning Crouching Tiger Fist.'
The Carefree Heart Technique was the basic inner cultivation method paired with Bamboo Leaf Hand, Crouching Tiger Fist, and Six Harmonies Fist. Lay disciples had to master it first before starting those arts.
The Carefree Heart Technique was certainly an excellent inner method. Stable and accommodating for transitioning to other orthodox techniques.
Thus, it suited novices with low attainment, but mismatched with Crouching Tiger Fist or Bamboo Leaf Hand.
'Why?'
Everyone followed the natural progression: Carefree Heart Technique, then Bamboo Leaf Hand and Crouching Tiger Fist. But Dam-ho harbored doubts.
These recent questions snowballed with time.
Dam-ho lost track of time, immersing himself in Crouching Tiger Fist.
Though doubts filled his mind, his hands moved with razor sharpness as he executed it.
Thus, Dam-ho's time flowed endlessly onward.