A Graceful Descent and Overwhelming Senses
When Cheong first soared into the arena at the Hidden Dragon Tournament, the spectators merely traced the lines of her body or peered curiously at what lay beneath her veil. Among the true masters, however, gasps of admiration erupted. After all, while swift and lofty movement techniques easily conveyed valor, achieving an elegant, gentle, and demure appearance was exceedingly difficult.
When the leisurely, anti-gravitational flight of the Moon Maiden Mountain Step revealed itself, even those who prided themselves as experts failed a hundredfold to suppress their exclamations, letting out involuntary cries of “Heh!” And when Cheong lightly descended on her toes without the slightest tremor, immediately assuming a graceful and stable center, their restraint collapsed a thousandfold; they could only shower her with praise: “Magnificent!”
All except the Mt. Hua Sect’s leader, Yu Geuk-geom, the True Man Chae Geon. Unlucky fellow, he thought. Meeting a formidable opponent in the very first match of the main tournament meant the Wudang Sect’s progress might end prematurely. Then, as the two seemed to exchange words and Cheong lightly pushed off the ground first, his insides twisted. A martial artist might not know another’s level, but they always knew their own. It was obvious the Goddess Sect disciple had yielded the initiative, while that fellow Hwan-yuk had failed to recognize his opponent and offered it instead. And listening to Yu Ha, the True Man, blabbering beside him only doubled his irritation.
“I saw it clearly from the start. That child is destined to lead the future of the Murim. How could I possibly withhold bestowing her a title?”
Yu Ha, the True Man, kept chattering shamelessly beside him. Anyone listening would think the Goddess Sect disciple was actually a Mt. Hua disciple. In truth, he was merely boasting of his own discernment, and the listeners wore expressions that clearly wished he would stop.
From the perspective of the masters evaluating the bout, they would praise Cheong’s remarkable self-control and wit. Normally, a youth with outstanding skill would be desperate to display their talent. Yet she remained composed, observing her opponent and even mimicking his subtleties—revealing not a desire to show off, but an eagerness to learn. And what of the decisive move that ended the match after ten exchanges? They had flowed against each other with softness until, in an instant, she severed his pulse with speed and power. Even if the Wudang disciple’s attainment had been two stages higher, the outcome would have been the same. Moreover, it was not a technique from any particular art but pure improvisation, carrying the sharpness of a veteran forged in real combat.
Cheong herself felt the same satisfaction. The vertical jin-gak step had been executed by pouring all her strength into generating downward speed from above, while the hand-blade strike was merely an application of Seomun Su-rin’s Nuclear Noogie. Though it strayed somewhat from the softness she had aimed to cultivate in Kaifeng, she had seized victory through her own judgment rather than a memorized form, and that filled her with pride.
Hwan-yuk, too, accepted the result. He had given his all, and upon reflection, there had been no way to block that eleventh move with the martial arts he possessed. Had he thrown himself flat like an iron board and rolled away, perhaps—but the Wudang principle of receiving an attack to return it had fallen short. Yet aside from the participants and the masters, the spectators understood nothing. It had been a contest of softness against softness, not power against power, so the exchanges had not been swift. Thus, while Hwan-yuk moved busily, unleashing his flashy Taiji Sword in relentless offense, Cheong appeared to be on the defensive, barely managing to parry. Because she had been watching with her eyes and clumsily imitating softness without properly executing sword forms, those lacking discernment saw only a girl who could not fight properly and was merely flaunting her fluttering figure.
Then, in a single moment, her hand-blade delivered a noogie—thwack. Yes, a noogie! The referee immediately blew the whistle, ending the match and declaring the veiled maiden the victor. From the audience’s perspective, it was absurd, infuriating, and utterly incomprehensible. As expected, boos rained down upon the arena: “Boo! What was that! What kind of match was that!” “What is this! Are you toying with the outcome?” “Just because she’s a woman, you went easy! Fight properly!” “Where’s the man or woman in a martial match, you bastard!” “I bet twenty taels on the righteous faction side!”
Cheong’s extremely low odds were another major reason for the backlash. People had bet heavily on Hwan-yuk, expecting a meager 1.07-times return. A few who had chased the long odds enjoyed an 11.7-times windfall, but since they had bet for fun, it merely turned pocket change into slightly larger pocket change. Incidentally, the betting operators had taken roughly one-tenth of all the lost wagers, while Cheon Yuhak alone had devoured about seventy percent of the remainder.
Because of this, the uproar showed no sign of dying down; instead, the spectators grew increasingly united in their condemnation. “Silence! Be quiet!” Even when the host shouted with inner force, his voice booming, it was to no avail. It seemed a riot might break out at any moment. Throughout the entire walk from the arena, passing beneath the wooden planks into the ship’s corridors, the jeers continued to reach Cheong’s superhuman hearing.
“I am deeply ashamed that matters have come to this. It is only because these common folk lack the eye to discern true martial arts. Please do not be too angered, young lady.”
Upon returning to the waiting room, an elderly Murim Alliance warrior offered comfort and continued, “I shall urgently request an explanation of the match from the elders. The commotion will soon subside.”
Cheong shook her head. There was still the rest of the tournament schedule ahead. Afterward, there was that assembly of the righteous factions her master had mentioned. It would be embarrassing to delay the proceedings over mere audience complaints. Besides, requesting commentary after such a trivial first match was unnecessary.
“It is quite all right. It was only the first match. Once the tournament progresses, they will realize they failed to recognize true skill. This matter will resolve itself naturally. There is no need to trouble the elders on my account.”
“Indeed. I am grateful for your magnanimity, young lady.”
Yu Seon-yeop, the Single Sword Gentleman and head of the Murim Grand Tournament organizing committee, offered a respectful salute, genuinely impressed. Her martial achievement was remarkable enough, but her composure and mature demeanor at such a young age were even more admirable. The Alliance Lord had granted the entire Mucheon Pavilion to a mere girl, and now that he had met her in person, he could see she would surely become a great pillar of the righteous faction in the future.
Cheong, not knowing who he was, simply assumed he was some tournament staff member. In truth, Yu Seon-yeop was the Murim Alliance’s chief steward in ordinary times. After thoroughly enchanting him with her Seomun Su-rin-style beauty walk, Cheong returned to the Goddess Sect seating area, where Seomun Su-rin’s face was tinged with faint anger.
“Haa. This is precisely why I disliked emerging into the world after so long. Disciple, look. This is the world’s regard for female martial artists. Had you been a man, those wretches would never have dared utter such ignorant words.”
“Aiya, don’t worry about it. Even after I win the entire tournament, do you think they’ll keep saying the same things?”
“Are you not angry, disciple?”
“Not really. What can those who cannot even land a single hit do by running their mouths? By the time we reach the finals, they’ll have changed their tune completely and be spouting something else anyway.”
At that, Seomun Su-rin clicked her tongue. “The girl’s tongue is as sharp as ever.”
“Hehe.”
“That was not a compliment. A girl with nothing but a kind heart—what use is that?”
Then Cheong cautiously broached the subject. “By the way, is there any need for me to stay here any longer? Master, you said you were going to that assembly of the righteous factions, did you not?”
“It would be better to observe your potential future opponents. Why? Do you have something to do?”
“I have an urgent matter to consult my second master about. It concerns his martial arts.”
“Then it cannot be helped. There are no other events you need to participate in anyway. I was thinking of bringing you to the banquet to receive greetings, but I suppose that must be postponed.”
It was not Cheong who would go around offering greetings. At Seomun Su-rin’s level, it was the sect leaders of the Nine Great Sects and the family heads of the great clans who would come to pay their respects.
“Hehe, I’m sorry.”
Seomun Su-rin smiled and replied, “Sorry for what? Given your standing, there is no need to set aside a day just for greetings. If you must urgently consult someone regarding martial arts, what could be more important than that?”
---
She had managed to leave the Kaifeng area, but… now where should she go? Finding her master in this vast city of Kaifeng seemed hopeless. Still, she had heard him muttering about selling medicinal pills, so she planned to head to the market and inquire about any suspicious medicine vendors. Fortunately, she did not have to go far before she heard a familiar voice.
“What’s this? Where are you off to?”
“Oh! I was just looking for you, Master. How did we run into each other so perfectly?”
“Perfectly? I had soaked your Cheongja Sword in tracking incense. How else would I have found you?”
“Tracking incense?”
“Slowly. I can only teach you once you’ve mastered the basics, so don’t rush. So, you were looking for me? Why?”
“It’s about the Awakening Divine Art.”
“How is it? Impressive, right?”
“That’s not it. It’s just… too much. I mean, the stimulation is too strong.”
Cheon Yuhak snorted. “I wondered what the fuss was about. Of course the stimulation is strong when all your senses awaken at once.”
“Even so, I should at least be able to live normally. Look at this. I can’t keep wrapping myself up like this every single day.”
Cheong rolled up her sleeve to show the tightly wrapped arm guards. Cheon Yuhak snorted again.
“A girl who wants to dull the blade because the sword is too sharp. Hey, you fool. Would a chef ruin his blade just because he’s afraid of how sharp it is?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“When a chef uses a sharp knife, he gets cut here and there at first while getting used to it. So why are you wrapping up your awakened body like that?”
“Because the stimulation is too—”
“You dense girl. Are you planning to wrap yourself up for the rest of your life? If so, why bother awakening your senses in the first place? Of course it will be uncomfortable at first, but you must gradually grow accustomed to it.”
It was simply a command to endure. Of course, Cheon Yuhak himself had not achieved such a sudden breakthrough through a single medicinal bath; his senses had gradually sharpened over time, allowing him to adapt without difficulty. Thus, he could not even begin to understand Cheong’s current state after suddenly reaching an eighth-stage achievement. Moreover, he knew nothing of the Maiden Joy Art. In his mind, he simply assumed that because her achievement had risen too abruptly, her skin was merely chafing and painful.
Still, the nature of sensation was such that repeated exposure to the same stimulus led to familiarity. Therefore, he told her to endure and grow used to it.
“The Awakening Divine Art has already reached the eighth stage. There is no turning back now. And do you know what it means for your entire body’s senses to become sharp? It is like having eyes in every direction.”
Once she perfectly mastered reading the flow of air through her skin, she would be able to vividly map a certain radius around her without using her eyes.
“Wow, really?”
Cheong, ever gullible, brightened at his words. Now that he had taken her as a disciple, Cheon Yuhak had no reason to exaggerate or hide any drawbacks.
“Well, there is the minor inconvenience of having to choose your clothing carefully.”
The less breathable the clothing, the less effective the technique became. Tight sleeves and hems that blocked the flow, or wearing layered clothes, rendered it meaningless. Conversely, the more exposed skin, the wider the range she could perceive. Thus, wearing breathable garments or, if that was impossible, choosing thin silk like gauze that could respond sensitively to even the smallest currents was another option.
“That is also why Divine Thieves focus on their trade when the cold wind blows. There is no need to go around stealing on a cold day, after all.”
“Hmm. According to that explanation, it seems rather embarrassing for a woman……”
Cheon Yuhak nodded. “Now that I think about it, there are aspects disadvantageous to women, but it is not so embarrassing as to require na-sam. Well, you could go with a low-cut chest.”
Na-sam referred to loosely woven silk that was nearly transparent unless examined very closely. If woven even more loosely, it was called sa-sam, and if looser still, it became myeon-sa—the very veil Cheong wore.
“Ugh. A low-cut chest is a bit……”
In any case, what Cheon Yuhak wished to convey as her master was clear: it was the Awakening Divine Art she had chosen. Endure it. Though, when Cheong thought about it, she did not recall ever choosing it herself.