The Water Knows the Answer
The water knew the answer.
In Dang Nan-a’s opinion, it was an incredibly cowardly tactic. If you wanted to win over your new sister-in-law’s heart, you were supposed to boldly act cute, build intimacy through aegyo, and butter her up with rare and precious gifts. To pull out something like martial arts so shamelessly? And since Dang Nan-a had already witnessed Cheong’s monstrous strength in wielding a person as a weapon, she felt it even more strongly.
Hmph. If you have strength, then I have poison. All I have to do is make Sister lose all affection for you in one fell swoop.
Whether Dang Nan-a was plotting such a horrifying scheme or not, Cheong was thoroughly enjoying her training for the first time in a while.
Paeng Cho-ryo, strictly speaking, belonged to the previous generation of seasoned martial artists. The line between the later-generation prodigies and the previous generation was rather ambiguous. It was a phenomenon that originally arose from the strict seniority system of prestigious sects. Once a later-generation prodigy settled into a position within their own faction, they would pass the title down to the next generation. This usually happened around the time their peers started taking on responsibilities within their families.
Therefore, the oldest among the current later-generation prodigies was Taoist Changbin (women’s feelings specialist, zero dating experience, unmarried, thirty years old), and Paeng Cho-ryo, who was soon to turn thirty-seven, was technically one generation above them—a senior who mingled with the heroes of the previous rank.
With the experience of a senior from the previous generation, a higher realm at the early stage of Transcendent, and superior pure technique, almost every moment became an extension of a new path of the blade.
Cheong’s greatsword drew a perfect full moon. Paeng Cho-ryo met it with an identical greatsword held at an angle, one hand supporting the flat of the blade. A spine-chilling scraping sound rang out as the two blades ground against each other, sending sparks flying in a cascade.
The tip of Cheong’s greatsword struck the ground. Paeng Cho-ryo’s blade instantly changed direction and stabbed straight forward. Cheong dropped low as if kneeling, letting it pass over her head. And now—!
Cheong twisted the hilt with all her might, attempting a terrifying upward slash. But as if to mock the attempt, Paeng Cho-ryo’s kick struck the flat of the blade, sending the weapon flying and twisting Cheong’s waist.
“An opening!”
Paeng Cho-ryo’s fist shot toward Cheong’s wide-open side. It carried enough force to shatter boulders. Right before impact, the fist extended a finger and poked her side.
Cheong leaped up with a “Kyaha—”—a half-formed laugh—and collapsed in a fit of giggles.
“Look at you. Ticklish? That’s not like you at all.”
“Khh, what can I do? It tickles.”
“I’m surprised. I didn’t expect that. You actually have a delicate side.”
“……?”
Cheong tilted her head. Of course, hearing herself described as “womanly” usually made her freak out, but being told outright that she wasn’t one felt strangely off-putting. More than that—Isn’t my evaluation a bit too generous? Why?
She seriously reflected on herself. The conclusion came quickly.
I’m always honest and sincere, aren’t I?
It must just be how friendship works in the Central Plains. Come to think of it, whether here or back there, once people got close they’d roast each other and laugh about it.
“That upward slash just now was a bad move. Every weapon has its strengths and weaknesses, so the development of martial arts focuses on maximizing those strengths. A greatsword must obey its nature and flow from above to below to display its true power.”
“So I thought it might work as a surprise move……”
“Well. Since you’re also skilled in close combat, it would have been better to drop the sword and throw dirt in my eyes. Forcing the blade’s direction twisted your arm, so the path became too honest and the power weakened. One kick opened your entire body. You would have died once there, right?”
Unlike the Namgung family’s Lord Mo, Paeng Cho-ryo did not pursue only the greatsword. In fact, according to her, the greatsword was a weapon unsuited to the current era. Setting aside its inconvenience to carry, its size meant it required both hands, putting it at a disadvantage compared to shorter weapons that left one hand free for hand techniques or palm strikes. Its advantages were long reach and overwhelming destructive power, but as martial arts advanced and those gaps were filled with internal energy, the unique merits of the greatsword were gradually disappearing.
When asked why she still insisted on using it, Paeng Cho-ryo’s answer was simple.
‘Because it is the foundation of my family. If you can just switch it for something more convenient, then it was never your foundation to begin with.’
Though for someone who said that, the Paeng family brat didn’t even use a greatsword.
“People often say the blade follows its nature while the sword defies heaven. That’s because the essence of the two weapons is different. The greatsword flows from above to below. It must strike the ground without stopping, flow like water, and rise again into the clouds. Wielding it with brute force is not everything.”
“Ohh.”
It sounded familiar. A verse suddenly came to mind.
Cheong lifted her greatsword again.
“Let’s try it once more.”
“Good. Come.”
Cheong flew forward using the weightless flight of the Wolnyeo Sword Art and let her greatsword drop straight down. The blade, falling in a thick arc, suddenly shook as it clashed with Paeng Cho-ryo’s, bouncing sideways. At that moment, a sunset-colored blade qi surged forth, tracing the shape of falling leaves. Four metallic clangs rang out from a single collision.
Paeng Cho-ryo leaped back with a whoosh.
“Oh. What was that? What blade technique was that just now?”
“Uh. It’s the Wolnyeo Sword Art.”
Among the latter three forms, there were sword techniques that didn’t work well with a sword, so she had tried adapting them to the greatsword.
“Hmm. The Wolnyeo Sword Art, you say. It is quite an ancient sword style. In those days, the distinction between sword and blade wasn’t so clear. They simply called it a ‘blade.’”
Suddenly, a girl appeared in her vision.
She wore clothes dyed in indigo and her hair was disheveled, yet her feminine lines were clearly visible. The girl danced with a blade, but what she held was not a sword—it was merely a tree branch.
The girl looked at Cheong, gave a faint smile, and began to dance. Eight sword forms overlapped into one fluid motion. She danced with such joy and overflowing delight that clear, bell-like laughter rang out.
What the girl held was a delicate, flexible branch that bent and swayed with every movement. At the same time, it was a splendid wooden sword that stretched straight out. And simultaneously, it was the thick trunk of a massive tree covered in countless twigs. They were all tree branches, yet their shapes, sizes, and weights were all different.
Straight and short. Curved and long. Hard. Flexible and swaying. Large. Twig-covered. Brittle and precarious. Sharp at the tip……
Then suddenly the surroundings grew dark, and the girl became transparent, revealing herself to be a constellation made of connected stars.
Stars shining so brightly they hurt the eyes. Still so far away. Yet reachable with a mere stretch of the hand.
Suddenly, a translucent rectangular window appeared before her eyes.
Wolnyeo Sword Art resonates with the Dao of the Blade.
The boundary between self and weapon grows faint.
Just as Cheong reached out to touch the ominous glowing text, someone poked her in the side.
When she turned her head, the girl in blue clothes was looking at her and shaking her head.
“Hmm?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Huh?”
Cheong looked around. The Tang family training ground was still the same. What was that? A hallucination?
She looked down at the greatsword in her hand. Then she examined it closely, swung it around with a whoosh, and tapped various parts of the blade with her finger, listening to the clear ringing sounds.
Only then did Cheong truly understand the greatsword. She instinctively grasped its length, weight, center of balance, and tendencies without needing numbers. Her heart raced with the desire to draw out the countless lines, points, and shapes that could extend from it.
“Let’s do it again. I saw something.”
The sparring that followed was more intense than ever before. Unlike the one-sided instructional matches until now, Cheong was now meeting her with equal skill.
Paeng Cho-ryo summarized Cheong’s condition for her.
“Congratulations. You’ve stepped into the beginning stage of Unity of Body and Blade.”
“Unity of Body and Blade?”
“I don’t know why you couldn’t form Sword Gang even though you were on the verge of this realization. Normally, only after a person understands their own body, understands the weapon, and treats the weapon as part of their body can they finally learn to pour their spirit into the blade.”
“Ah, I know that one! My master said the same thing. That’s Unity of Sword and Body!”
Cheong said this with a completely clueless expression. Thanks to that, Paeng Cho-ryo burst out laughing.
Seomun Su-rin had already shown her what Unity of Sword and Body looked like. A person holding a sword, yet the person was nowhere to be seen. Of course, they weren’t literally invisible. It was as if the master was hiding behind that thin blade, or rather, the sword’s presence was so overwhelming that one couldn’t even pay attention to the master holding it. Just looking at it made one’s heart tighten and senses twist—it was a bizarre sight.
“I’m not sure, but if we keep going, won’t I get it?”
“My goodness. I didn’t expect this from you. You really are a born martial artist, aren’t you?”
“Just what exactly are you seeing…….”
Paeng Cho-ryo was letting out a hearty laugh when—
“Sister! Seomun whatever-your-name-is! Aigoo, look at all that sweat. Aren’t you hot?”
With a sweet voice, Dang Nan-a came trotting into the training ground carrying a large tray.
“Training is good and all, but why don’t you have something refreshing? I prepared some snacks.”
“Ooh. Refreshing drinks. And snacks.”
Cheong’s face lit up as she plopped straight down onto the ground. If Seomun Su-rin had seen this, she would have immediately launched a nuclear fist barrage, but the person beside her was Paeng Cho-ryo. Paeng Cho-ryo also sat down companionably beside her, so there was no one to point out this pitiful scene.
“Here, this is for you, Sister. This is for Seomun whatever.”
Paeng Cho-ryo set down the portions from the tray one by one. Unlike Paeng Cho-ryo’s neatly arranged plate, a haphazard pile of something was dumped in front of Cheong.
“Hey, don’t discriminate with food.”
“You got more, didn’t you?”
“I accept this righteous discrimination.”
Cheong immediately changed her tune. Decoration didn’t matter. What mattered was taste and quantity.
Cheong immediately lifted the large bowl. The finely crushed ice made a pleasant clinking sound as it shook. Just as she was about to drink, she heard a loud gulp and lowered the bowl.
Dang Nan-a was staring at her intently.
“What? Thirsty?”
“No no no, what are you talking about. Here, drink up. It’s yuzu honey tea with rock sugar. Sweet, sour, cool, and delicious. I didn’t put anything else in it.”
“Oh! Yuzu honey tea.”
Cheong’s face brightened as she gulped down the yuzu honey tea. Her whole body was already drenched in sweat, so every sip felt like it was being eagerly absorbed.
“Kya. This is good.”
Cheong set down the half-empty cold tea and immediately reached for the snacks. At that moment, Dang Nan-a asked with an expectant look.
“How is it?”
“Hm? It’s delicious? Cool and refreshing.”
“And? Don’t you feel anything else?”
Cheong tilted her head. Did it have some secret ingredient?
She set the snack down for a moment, took a big swig of the cold tea, and rolled it around in her mouth with the ice. Sweet, tangy, and something slightly spicy.
“Gulp. I got it. Cinnamon, right? It’s not as good as Uncle Changja’s, but my tongue is pretty accurate too.”
“Huh?”
“Ah, never mind. Is it cinnamon? The aftertaste feels a bit spicy.”
“Huh?”
Dang Nan-a looked at Cheong in confusion. Then she suddenly turned to Paeng Cho-ryo in shock.
“Ah. Thank you, Nan-a. It tastes great.”
Paeng Cho-ryo lifted her bowl and responded with a smile.
Dang Nan-a giggled.
“Hehe, it’s nothing…… Huh?”
Then her expression when she looked back at Cheong was full of suspicion. She looked somewhat dazed—no, she looked like Senior Hosoin when he was practicing medicine. It had looked plausible when he did it, so why did it keep looking like she was wearing platform shoes? Their basic intelligence levels were completely different, weren’t they?
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Hm? What do you mean?”
“This is weird. Give it here.”
Dang Nan-a snatched Cheong’s cold tea and gulped it down. And a moment later.
Suddenly, with a pained “Ugh!” she clutched her stomach and started sneezing violently.
“You, you tricked me—etchu! Heh, ugh, etchu! Ugh. Ahh, my stomach—etchu!”
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“My stomach hurts—ah, etchu! Etchu! Etchu!”
This time it was three sneezes in a row. As anyone who has tried it knows, consecutive sneezes are incredibly painful. Sure enough, her eyes turned red with tears and snot started streaming from her nose.
Whether she was the Sichuan Beauty or not, with her face twisted and tears and snot flowing freely, there was no avoiding looking hideous. It was simply the limit of human physiology.
“My, stomach, ugh, eu, aeu, etchu!”
Dang Nan-a clutched her stomach, stood up, and staggered away in an awkward, uncomfortable posture.
“Did she eat something bad?”
Cheong muttered as she finished off the cold tea.
This was really well-made. She’d have to ask for another one later.
In the already darkening surroundings, the sound of sneezing continued, growing fainter and fainter.