Let's Have a Spar
Cheong's eyes narrowed. "As far as I know, there's only one person in the world who barges into someone else's guest room without permission?"
"As expected! So that Sword Flower bitch came by!"
"No. You. I'm talking about you."
What bothered her more was the comment about it being a common trick. What the hell? Was tearing women's clothes some kind of widespread prank now?
"I did it. I was trying to put on clothes with a dagger, but it wasn't working out."
"Why would you do something like that?"
"Right? Why would anyone do this..."
If the dagger hadn't been quite so sharp, it wouldn't have been this much of a hassle. But it was the Azure Blade, after all. True to its reputation as a famous sword, the moment even the slightest weight touched the fabric against the blade, it would slide right through with a soft shrrk.
In the end, she had to carefully maintain an angle where no force pressed the cloth against the edge, then gently scrape and pull the fabric with just the tip of the blade. But because the tip was so incredibly sharp, nine times out of ten it would pierce straight through the material, reach the hilt, and graze the back of her hand. And when she pulled it out, the cut would widen even more because the blade kept slicing as it withdrew.
With the mindset of "I'm just throwing away one set of clothes," she practiced all night long. Somehow, she had finally succeeded in getting dressed like this.
"But what the hell? How did you know when I'd be coming and ask me to buy you clothes?"
Then Dang Nan-a suddenly shrieked.
"Cheong! You can't go out like that! If you move even a little, everyone will see your skin!"
"...What? Of course I'm not going out like this. What exactly do you take me for?"
"But you walk around the Goddess Sect completely naked! You have that kind of exhibitionist hobby. Even when you sleep. Ah! Don't misunderstand, okay? Baekhap walks around with her chest completely exposed all the time too, right? I can understand it completely. Yeah. It's nice to look at! I actually like it! I approve! Thank you!"
"What are you even talking about? And when did I ever walk around naked at the Goddess Sect? I was definitely wearing clothes. These are the ones my master personally made for me."
"Yeah. Yeah. That's right. Sure. You're absolutely correct, Cheong. If you say so, then that's how it is."
"This is getting on my nerves..."
"Ah! Still, I'll be back soon, so you absolutely cannot go out like that, got it?"
"Hey!"
Dang Nan-a finished thoroughly irritating her and then sprinted away, disappearing in an instant.
Hemp and ramie were the cheapest fabrics in the Central Plains. Because the threads were thick and rough, the texture against the skin could hardly be called pleasant, but they had the advantage of being incredibly tough and durable.
For reference, hemp was woven from cannabis plants. In any case, hemp clothing was extremely difficult to maintain. Once it got dirty, the stains never came out, and once it wrinkled, the creases stayed like folded iron and refused to smooth out.
So the people of the Central Plains came up with a clever solution. Hard to maintain? Then just don't maintain it! Stains won't come out? Then don't try to get them out!
That's why hemp clothes were typically just worn until they fell apart and then thrown away. They were basically work clothes. People didn't even bother washing them properly—just swished them around in water and let them dry. After a few years, they'd turn pitch black with wrinkles everywhere. If you saw people in old paintings wearing shabby clothes, they were almost certainly wearing hemp.
Therefore, Cheong felt much more at ease taking a blade to this kind of disposable ramie martial arts uniform. On top of that, the fabric itself was tough and rough, so it caught the tip of the sword nicely, making it much easier to put on while holding a dagger.
And so, with remarkable improvement, Cheong succeeded in putting on a uniform without any holes in just half a shichen—one hour.
Considering that last night she hadn't slept a wink and had spent the entire time grunting and mangling one uniform, only managing to successfully wear it twice, this was quite an achievement.
Cheong puffed up with pride. Hah, it's nothing! With her nose in the air, the next thing she had to do was eat breakfast.
Fortunately, breakfast consisted of dumplings, vegetables, and soup, which made things a bit easier. For the dumplings, she could just prop them up with the dagger and pop them into her mouth. The vegetables tangled together, so when she stabbed them, she could lift them in one big clump. As for the soup—well, if she could lift wobbly pieces of meat with terrible center of gravity using a dagger, a solid bowl was nothing.
A normal person would have their arm shaking from the weight, but Cheong possessed monstrous strength that let her eat while holding not just a bowl, but even a large serving dish with her fingers.
Even so, the fact that she was struggling was obvious. After watching for a while, Dang Nan-a finally spoke up.
"Can't you at least eat comfortably?"
"If I take out eating and getting dressed, all I have left is training. And if I avoid it just because it's hard, I'll never be able to do it. I'll get used to it eventually."
It was hard to argue against such sound logic. Instead, the listener just felt a little wronged. For example, if a friend said something like: Hey, why are you dozing off with a book open? You're going to sleep at night anyway, so isn't it better to at least read one line of the sages' words? There was no rebuttal, but it would still be annoying. Like you're one to talk about reading books.
Similarly, Dang Nan-a's expression soured. Since when had Cheong been so devoted to training that she was making a fuss about it from breakfast onward? But even if Dang Nan-a was dissatisfied, there wasn't much she could do about it. If she sulked and went back like yesterday, after thinking it over, it seemed like only that Peng Clan girl would benefit. That's why she'd launched a surprise attack at the crack of dawn.
After finishing breakfast, Cheong settled into the training ground, slowly practicing the forms she knew to warm up her body. Chatting with a bored Dang Nan-a who sat with her chin in her hands was an added bonus.
"Ah, right. Nan-a, do you know Lady Seol I-ri?"
"Hm? You mean the Ice Flower? I know of her, sure. But I don't think anyone who knows her is actually close to her. Why do you ask?"
"Hmm? Just because. I saw her once before, and she's really beautiful. You know that teardrop mole under her eye? She has such a graceful, refined face, but that little dot makes it... wow."
"What the hell? You're looking at a beauty right in front of you and praising another beauty? Here, look at this. What do you call this?"
"I highly doubt you're calling that a 'flower stand.'"
"Why not? I'm the Understanding Poison Flower, aren't I? Since I'm holding up the flower, it's a flower stand."
While Cheong and Dang Nan-a were exchanging such pointless chatter, Namgung Sinjae—who always arrived first and had never once missed a session—showed up.
"Sword friend? Hmm. Are you perhaps in mourning? Please accept my condolences."
"What? Why are you suddenly turning this into a funeral?"
"You were wearing mourning clothes, so I wondered. Hmm, are you truly that destitute? Since we're sword friends who share even our blades, something like clothing—"
"I'm not wearing this because I can't afford clothes, okay? It's an extension of yesterday's training. Um, but I'll gratefully accept your concern."
"What a training method. Its usefulness is questionable. Well then, shall we test whether it has any effect or not?"
"Sounds good! I'll go first this time!"
Cheong charged forward without hesitation. Since her goal was to pursue soft, flowing attacks, simply defending wouldn't help much.
Cheong swung her tightly folded arm outward in a wide arc. Namgung Sinjae's sword moved to block the path, but at that moment, Cheong's wrist twisted slightly so that the flat of the blade, not the edge, brushed against his. At the same time, she pushed forward with her left hand supporting the flat of her wooden sword.
"Excellent!"
The moment he shouted, an opening appeared! Cheong's eyes flashed as she executed a technique.
Moon Maiden Sword, First Form—Graceful Play. Like an innocent child frolicking with a monkey, light and lively. Wait, was it supposed to be lively? A child and a monkey seemed more frantic and dangerous—
"Ugh."
In that instant, all strength drained from her body and her breath caught in her throat. The next thing she knew, her cheek was scraping against the fine dirt of the training ground.
"Hah, hahk, hu, heup, huuu." Cheong desperately gasped for air. Getting her solar plexus solidly struck by the tip of a wooden sword meant she had to roll around on the ground, superhuman durability or not.
"Hmm, sword friend. It seems you became too immersed in softness just now. It would have been better to execute it as is. That ended up being neither one thing nor the other."
"Ugh. Why does it feel like... huuuu... your strikes are getting crueler..."
"Look at this sword friend acting all dramatic. You're fine, so stop lying there and get up already."
Well, it wasn't like her bones or muscles were damaged enough to leave lasting effects. Cheong grabbed the hand Namgung Sinjae offered and pulled herself up. Her breathing had returned, but every inhale and exhale made her entire torso feel stiff and sore.
"Still, that first move was quite good. The technique of flowing from hard power into soft and pushing outward is truly masterful—almost a lifesaving secret technique."
"Hmm. So the training had an effect?"
"Well, we'll find out if we keep going. Now, sword friend, do we have time to stand around? A swordsman's life is short, and even now the sun is setting."
It felt a bit strange to say the sun was setting in the late morning, but technically it wasn't wrong.
And so, twenty bouts, twenty losses. This time it was a complete defeat. However, Namgung Sinjae's assessment was different.
"It certainly seems that strange training of yours is having an effect. I should get myself a sharp dagger as well—no, a proper swordsman walking the path of righteousness cannot carry a dagger. I'll have to use a longsword."
"I lost every single match though?"
"That's because even I can no longer afford to go easy on you."
"Has my sword strength improved that much? Enough to compete with you?"
"Not quite. It's just that I can't hold back anymore. Your external arts are so outstanding that while your sword strength is still insignificant compared to your realm, it's no longer something that can be taken lightly."
"Did you really have to say 'insignificant'..."
When Cheong grumbled, Namgung Sinjae smiled gently and gave his diagnosis.
"You tried too hard to mix softness into your forms, which created large openings. Other than that, the principle of softness has already begun to permeate your swings. Your stance is clearly different from yesterday, so I can only conclude that the training was effective."
For starters, the sound of wooden swords clashing had noticeably decreased, which meant she had grown quite familiar with the principle of transforming hardness into softness.
After that, Paeng Daesan arrived with Paeng Cho-ryeo, and Cheong once again diligently rolled around on the ground. Still, her win rate against the two of them had increased slightly, so it seemed the training really was working.
Then, just before lunch, they headed to the bathhouse to wash off the sweat and dirt.
"Tsk tsk, what a shabby sight."
"Ah, Uncle. You're here again?"
In the same spot as yesterday, Cheon Yuhak was sprawled out, this time having even laid down a mat under the shade.
"How was the training? Tough, wasn't it?"
"Ugh, don't even get me started. It took me three shichen just to eat breakfast."
Cheong complained with a groan. Cheon Yuhak let out a shameless cackle.
"That's because the work fingers do is that delicate. Don't you have five fingers on each hand? How easy do you think it is to replace all that with just one sharp blade?"
"It would be difficult..."
"Looking at those mourning clothes, I thought it would be easier than with cotton, so I prepared accordingly. But seeing that your clothes are still intact, you must have given up? Heh heh, then let me teach you a few more tricks—"
"No, I did it with the blade."
"Tsk. Kid, you shouldn't lie to your elders."
"I'm not lying."
"Hmm? Really? Can you swear on your master's name?"
"Yes. I ruined about five sets, but somehow I managed to stitch them together and wear them."
"......"
Cheon Yuhak was momentarily at a loss for words. The method he had taught her wasn't supposed to actually succeed. After all, hadn't he given her the Azure Blade, a treasured weapon famous for its sharpness? Of course, Cheon Yuhak himself could perform all sorts of tasks while holding the Azure Blade after the same training. But when he had learned from his own master, he had started with a carving knife that barely had an edge—something so small it was embarrassing to even call it a dagger. Only after growing familiar with that did he gradually increase the sharpness and length. Besides, the Azure Blade was exceptionally sharp. Since Cheon Yuhak hadn't stolen it yet during his own training period, the difficulty was even higher than the highest level he had practiced himself.