A Disciple's Oath
"Ajussi, this stance is hard."
"Keep it up."
"Ajussi, this stance is hard."
"That means you're doing it right. Focus."
"Ajussi, this stance is hard. Isn't there something else?"
"There's no royal road to training! You think Shaolin, where all the world's martial arts originate, has some special method? They practice the horse stance from childhood too."
Back when I was imprisoned in Shaolin's Geumroe-ok, visitors could witness that sight. Over a hundred and eight young novices assuming the horse stance before the first cock crowed. No special treatment, even for the sect leader's disciples or the poison clan's direct heirs. The clan's warriors never skipped a day of horse stance practice. The pride of being the world's foremost in external arts came from that stubborn, unyielding path.
"The higher the martial art, the more solid the foundation must be for it to take root in your body. Especially yours—it's the Twin Phoenix Cooperative Dance. You can't run before you can walk."
"Ugh... Is it really that great a technique...?"
Cheon Sohyang tilted her head slightly. The child chattered endlessly throughout the full hour of horse stance without tiring. Not a single word failed to prod at me. Like this one.
"Hah! The Twin Phoenix Cooperative Dance is a peerless dual-wield art, unmatched in ancient or modern times. Who told you it was nothing special?"
"Oh, no, it's just... I saw in a book recently that our family art isn't even in the Hundred Great Martial Arts of the World... It was barely mentioned at the end of the appendix."
"Ho, what did it say?"
"It has flashy technique, but lacks power and speed, so it's fallen behind in martial arts history..."
"Hah."
I pictured Cheon Yomyeong from my memories. His sword flew faster than the wind, his blade heavier than Mount Tai. Just standing in his sword path conjured illusions of raging storms. And they called that lacking in power and speed?
"I don't know who wrote it, but they're utterly worthless."
"It was a book distributed by the Murim Alliance itself..."
"Hah, don't argue with your elders. If so, then this era's Murim Alliance is worthless. They critiqued without even tasting the true essence of the art..."
"Pfft, you sound just like Dad. Making me do horse stance all day..."
The child's lips puffed out like a trout's. Seeing that reminded me of something I'd overlooked. If I mishandled this and she lost interest in training, it'd be a great loss. That wouldn't do. As the old saying goes, you don't just use the whip with a horse—give the kid a goal.
"Alright, here's the deal. If you hold the horse stance perfectly for a full hour, I'll teach you other moves."
"For real?"
"Of course."
I nodded, chuckling inwardly. A full hour of proper horse stance? She was far from it. Lacking both strength and aptitude. It'd take at least six months of effort.
"Real promise? You'll teach me other moves?"
"Why doubt it? Does only the Cheon family know the weight of promises? I, Jang Cheon, have never spoken two words in my life!"
And the next day, Cheon Sohyang gritted her teeth and endured a full hour.
I doubted my own eyes.
"As promised, the Twin Phoenix Cooperative Dance. I've witnessed your ancestral founder's art firsthand, so I won't expect much. Show me what you've learned."
"Just like this? Whoosh, shoo?"
"Who taught you to move like that? When turning the sword, use your arm, not your shoulder..."
"Huh? I learned from a book by myself. With our family's situation, who could we afford to hire, Ajussi?"
I was wrong. It wasn't that she lacked a good master.
She'd had no master at all.
She'd begged a passing market warrior for the horse stance. I wondered if even three-year-old Cheon Yomyeong had such talent.
The next day, she appeared utterly dejected. Feeding me on tiptoes, no energy at all. She chewed mechanically—then a small crunch. A meatball in the rice.
"...What's this?"
"Th-the Cheon family... twentieth-generation head Cheon Sohyang... humbly begs forgiveness from Ajussi."
"Child, know when to joke and when not. Discern heaven from earth before acting so brazenly."
"I'm... serious. No lie. I asked Mom, but she didn't know..."
"Ancient history. I've been abandoned here so long I can't even recall how many years—how could it be properly passed down? Foolish girl."
"Still... I don't think Ajussi would lie. You're not that kind of person..."
She sobbed, prostrating. Tears soaked the words, fragile and pure. From beneath that tiny bowed head came a whimper.
"This girl... when the day comes that Ajussi is freed... as head of the Cheon family, I will... take... responsibility."
"Is that so."
"...Yes. I'll die by your hand."
The trembling child peeked at my reaction. I wanted to bite my lip, pound my chest in frustration, but sternly steadied my voice.
"Do you grasp the weight of those words?"
"Though young, this isn't the vow of a child—it's the head of the Cheon family sp-speaking..."
"Hah! Don't treat your life so lightly!"
She jerked her head up at my roar, tear-streaked face plain to see.
"Does a clan head dangle their neck so casually? What do your family laws teach? Is a clan right if its head values life cheaply?"
"I-I'm sorry..."
"Hah! Don't apologize lightly either. Your actions are the clan's, your life the clan's life!"
I softened my tone slightly.
"Your life doesn't burden you alone. Don't the Jang and Park tenant families depend on your house?"
"Yes..."
"What happens to them if you die rashly? Head isn't a solo role. Ponder your actions to leave no regrets."
She bowed deeply again, then stood and brushed her knees.
"Tsk, look—your white robes are filthy. Lady Cheon will have a hard time cleaning them."
"Th-thank you for the lesson... I always learn so much from Ajussi."
"Enough. I learned it in my youth too—consider it passed down."
"Ajussi too? Really?"
"Yes. I got scolded plenty as a kid. Some lessons were so harsh I cried."
"Who scolded Ajussi so strictly?"
"Who else but my fath—"
I couldn't continue. Her innocent gaze pierced my heart; I couldn't meet it.
That pure expression cut sharper than Cheon Yomyeong's ultimate technique. Dangerous.
"...Go train. Don't think this fuss excuses skipping practice."
"Yes, Ajussi!"
Unlike my weary voice, she bounded up eagerly, assuming her stance. She unfolded the Twin Phoenix Cooperative Dance, picture-perfect.
Watching, my chest ached. I couldn't forgive myself most of all.
For even briefly imagining her roaming the jianghu—in white robes, embarking proudly on her first journey. Seeing Dongting Lake's shores and Jangan's grandeur, befriending scholars and heroes, building unforgettable memories, smiling happily as she shared those tales.
It hurt unbearably.