Master's Grace (2)
“Huff… huff…”
To the north of Luoyang lay Beom Mountain, also known as North Mang Mountain. This was the very North Mang Mountain associated with the phrase describing the land where the dead were buried. Renowned since ancient times as a scenic peak with excellent feng shui, it had become a vast cemetery for countless high officials, nobles, kings, emperors, and empresses. Over time, the name “North Mang Mountain” evolved into a euphemism for the place where people went to die.
Of course, setting that aside.
The reason Yi Jeon-hwi was climbing Mang Mountain right now was the ghost-like figure of Namgung So-min pursuing him from behind.
“M-Master… this is a bit much…”
“I told you to refrain from unnecessary questions or chatter during training.”
“But this is too far! Do you know how many geun these weights on my limbs are…?!”
Namgung So-min cut off Yi Jeon-hwi’s words with icy finality.
“Precisely five geun each. The second young master of the Yongmun family ought to endure at least that much. Don’t forget—you’re the only one left at home.”
“Th-That’s!”
“The instructors at Yongmun have already taught you the basics of the Dragon Great Sword Method. Once your stamina training is done, we’ll refine your sword forms. I wouldn’t recommend trying to run away.”
Namgung So-min’s voice was frigid. Every time Yi Jeon-hwi met those beast-like golden eyes, chills raced down his spine. Despair settled over him.
How did it come to this?
“If you understand, then run. The moment you fall behind me, one lap around Mang Mountain won’t be the end of it.”
“Uwaaaaaah!”
Yi Jeon-hwi’s scream echoed across North Mang Mountain.
Though three women were now handling Yi Jeon-hwi’s practical instruction, that didn’t mean Baek Su-gyeong had completely washed his hands of the boy. While the women taught him the ways of a warrior and a merchant, Baek Su-gyeong focused on scholarly arts.
Of course, he didn’t forget to meticulously record the women’s teaching methods and Yi Jeon-hwi’s grueling ordeals. Even this could serve as fodder for his novels.
“The protagonist for Nahangwonsin is already locked in with Monk Mu-won as the model… Perfect for something before heading to Tianshan. A prodigal son tale.”
His debut, Wudang Sword Hero, had kicked off with a regression story, so the follow-up—a pure martial arts tale without any regression—was the natural progression. Nahangwonsin, set in Shaolin, would feature a talented but lazy protagonist who, amid internal Shaolin strife, unites the sect to confront a crisis in the jianghu.
The prodigal son story would come after that.
“Great that the material’s stacking up steadily, but I worry if I’ll ever use it all…”
Getting tangled in every corner of the jianghu meant he was overflowing with usable ideas, settings, and scenarios. Not that it was ideal. He couldn’t capture the raw emotion of the moment in his writing right away.
Nor could he juggle multiple projects at once. He had to finish one before starting the next—splitting his focus would just burn him out. Baek Su-gyeong wrote quickly and concentrated fiercely, but even he had limits.
In his modern life, some authors churned out volume after volume with teams or factory-like operations, but that was their world, not his.
“Still, better to outline the basics now.”
Having a foundation saved time when writing. That’s why, even while penning Wudang Sword Hero, he’d jotted down notes for Nahangwonsin and the prodigal tale in his spare moments.
“Up to the creation of the Jinmu Thirteen Swords is done—now for the next part.”
Volume 8 featured Jin-un inventing the Jinmu Thirteen Swords and synthesizing Wudang’s heart methods with the Hyeoncheon Wugeuk Divine Art. But it wouldn’t end there: learning of Jin-un’s injuries and return to Wudang Mountain, the Cheon-geuk Divine Cult would deploy a new Demon Lord and full forces to raze the sect alongside the mountain.
Jin-un, who hadn’t yet unified his arts, would suffer a major setback. Having powered through crises effortlessly until volume 7, it was time for real hardship.
Though Baek Su-gyeong had no intention of dragging it out excessively.
“New martial arts demand trials. I always hated how wuxia webnovels glossed over the buildup—just ‘protagonist power’ and done. No wonder they felt so unsatisfying.”
Baek Su-gyeong had always been the type dismissed as a “no-fun old-timer” for nitpicking wuxia novels. Essential buildup got skipped with a handwave, making it hard to buy in. That led to bloated, boring slogs that self-destructed.
Now, readers lapped up that style. A strange feeling, indeed.
Still, endless drudgery was poison. The right mix of tension and release hooked readers best—and the current jianghu was no different.
“Not that it matters much.”
Hunched in his room, steadily filling the next volume of Wudang Sword Hero, was grueling work. Ideas overflowed in his mind, making transcription easy, but hours at the desk left his wrists aching inevitably.
That’s why he took breaks, strolling the annex grounds to rest his overworked hands.
As he walked by the pond, clearing his head in the chill wind, a sharp voice pierced like a awl from behind.
“Teacher Baek, what’re you muttering to yourself about?”
“Lady Gal.”
“It’s cold out. Wandering without martial arts? You’ll catch a cold. Don’t like Gang-geun tea, huh?”
Her words said one thing, but Gal Ye-ryeong still eyed him like some peerless master. Baek Su-gyeong remained blissfully oblivious.
Anyone with that keen insight into others’ hearts would be called a mind-reader.
“Haha…”
“Not funny. If you fell ill, the palace lord would empty his stores of rare herbs on you first.”
Baek Su-gyeong’s expression turned slightly grave at her words. He hadn’t considered that.
“Hmm, that does sound scary.”
“Lady So’s been force-feeding you Gang-geun tea nonstop, and you still wander like this? You really hate it, Teacher Baek?”
“Of course. I very much dislike Gang-geun tea.”
“Sigh. Worrying about you every time is a chore…”
“That’s because you take such good care of me, Lady Gal.”
Gal Ye-ryeong whipped her head away at his words.
“Hmph, sly fox of a man.”
“Fox? As in seductive spirit?”
“You pick up women and drop them—that makes you a spirit, alright. Honestly, if you hadn’t asked, I wouldn’t have bothered teaching that idiot second son of this house.”
Gal Ye-ryeong was brutally frank, spitting out her thoughts rather than bottling them. Among the three women following Baek Su-gyeong, she was the sharpest thorn.
Baek Su-gyeong chuckled.
“How’s the teaching going?”
“He’s not a total blockhead, but yeah—no talent. Never seen progress this slow.”
“I heard Lady Namgung’s handling the swordsmanship.”
“I’m on qi cultivation. You didn’t forget Haomen’s roots trace back to Shaolin, right?”
“Of course. Shaolin qi arts emphasize forging the body. Even if Young Master A-hwi advances slowly, steady practice will yield results.”
Gal Ye-ryeong clicked her tongue.
“Might as well teach you instead. Shame you missed your window for martial arts…”
“What’s to regret? No martial arts doesn’t hinder living.”
“Lady Namgung or I can’t stick to you forever. And Lady So goes without saying.”
Her worry stemmed from that. He was a man; they were women. Even with constant protection, gaps arose—like when he bathed. Highborn ladies like Namgung So-min or the prideful Gal Ye-ryeong wouldn’t play handmaid. So Ssaang-a lacked any such restraint, but still.
“Think the Dark Shadows’ assassins will come twice?”
“That they could is the problem. You’re too nonchalant, Teacher Baek. No vigilance even after that.”
That was the real issue. He’d adjusted somewhat after Xuchang, but Baek Su-gyeong fundamentally didn’t see himself as a target.
Dark Shadows’ assassins outclassed even elite Death Gate killers—five exchanges, and heads would roll. As Haomen’s Left Commander, Gal Ye-ryeong knew their terror better than most, given Haomen’s place among the Ten Evils.
Can’t lose Teacher Baek.
They had secret escorts, but none could match a Dark Shadows assassin evenly—just buy time, at best. Hence her unease.
If the Dark Shadows targeted Baek Su-gyeong again, vital for Ya Noe’s push into the light…
Civil war.
Oblivious to her inner turmoil, Baek Su-gyeong gazed at her steadily.
“That obvious?”
“Yeah. Are you unflappable, or am I oversensitive…?”
“Having you watch out for me is why I’m so carefree.”
He smiled. Gal Ye-ryeong turned away sharply.
“Don’t smile like that. It’s annoying.”
But her averted cheek flushed faintly.
Baek Su-gyeong grinned and kept walking. A step behind, Gal Ye-ryeong asked,
“So, when do you plan to start the next volume, Teacher Baek?”
“Chipping away at it. Wrists hurt, so slowly. First draft’s nearly done—volume 8 won’t be long.”
“Good to hear.”
Baek Su-gyeong shrugged with a smile. As they left the annex, snowflakes began to drift behind them.
Heralding December, great snowflakes tumbled over Luoyang’s streets.