Chapter 4
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 4
Chapter Title: The Process of Creating the Yangsan-hyung Legend
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“Oaei!”
I wanted to snap at him that he was just slacking off, but sadly, with a baby’s tongue, this babble was the best I could do.
“What? Slacker? You learned a great word from Senior Brother Uihyeon, huh?”
Oh, you actually understood that?
“Gwaaaang!”
Then try understanding this.
As he tried to lift me away from the water’s edge while holding me, I wriggled wildly in his arms, desperately reaching toward the water.
“Hey, there’s a water ghost down there that eats kids. A baby like you gets dragged away the moment you get close to the water.”
Ah, shut your damn mouth! Water ghost, my ass. You think I’d believe some half-baked ghost story?
Finally surrendering to my desperate resistance, Uiseong hugged me tightly with a weary expression and let my hand reach the water.
The water was so cold it made my fingertips tingle. And it was incredibly clear and transparent.
As I splashed my hand, the petals floating on the surface were pushed toward the center of the pond.
Once I’d had my fill of water play, Uiseong carried me back to the tree he’d been leaning against, looking utterly exhausted.
“Such a tiny thing, but so damn stubborn…”
“Oaei.”
“Kid, that’s a really, really bad word, so don’t use it. Got it?”
What’re you on about? I snorted dismissively, my face saying it didn’t faze me one bit, and Uiseong narrowed his eyes cautiously.
“You’re not some martial arts master who’s regressed to infancy, are you?”
Sigh, go write a novel. Go on. Title: [Life as a Martial Arts Master Starting from Babyhood]?
As I stared at him blankly, Uiseong shrugged and kept rambling.
“It’s not slacking—if I skip training, there’s always a reason, you know. What can I do? Training is boring as hell. When you can master it after one or two swings, but they make you do it hundreds of times—how am I supposed to not get sick of it?”
That’s exactly what we call slacking.
Whether I made a pathetic face or not, he continued with a deeply immersed expression.
“I’m a total genius, you see.”
“Pfft.”
“You just laughed at me, didn’t you?”
Offended by my burst of laughter, Uiseong ruffled my hair, then carefully set me down on the ground and picked up the sword that had been lying under the tree.
“Haa, seeing is believing.”
With a sigh, he drew the sword from its sheath, took a stance, closed his eyes briefly, and then opened them.
The drowsy look in his eyes from moments ago sharpened into something fierce and solid.
Before I could fully marvel at the change, his arm moved, and the tip of his sword sliced gracefully through the air like a fish swimming.
Where the sword passed, red plum blossoms bloomed.
One petal, two petals, then they swirled uncontrollably.
The plum blossoms formed from sword qi sliced through the real petals.
The vibrant flurry of petals overwhelming the sky was incomparably more vivid than the pathetic plum blossoms I’d seen in the training hall.
The refined sharpness hidden within the splendor.
‘This is the true sword of Mount Hua…’
Elegant plum blossoms continued to bloom profusely from the graceful blade tip.
The area was filled so completely that I couldn’t tell if the plum petals were sword qi or real.
Lost in the breathtaking sight, I found myself clapping without realizing it.
Screw Wudang Sect. Screw Taiji Sword. Mount Hua Sect is the best.
* * *
The baby boy gaped up at the traces of plum blossoms, clapping soundlessly.
Looking down at Biyeon, a faint smile crept onto Uiseong’s lips.
Those sparkling eyes suggested this baby of Mount Hua had just fallen head over heels for Mount Hua’s sword.
“Pretty cool, huh?”
Biyeon nodded vigorously. See? I told you I’m a genius, kid. Uiseong chuckled.
Sheathing the sword, Uiseong squatted down, stroked Biyeon’s head, and whispered.
“Grow up quick. I’ll teach you the Plum Blossom Swordsmanship.”
Having a disciple like this kid might make his boring daily life a bit more fun.
Unlike Uihyeon, one of the most diligent among the third-generation disciples, Uiseong had been born with exceptional talent and felt no real need or interest in training.
That’s why he slacked off during training sessions.
Beyond the boredom, the expectations from his seniors and the jealous glares from his fellow disciples of the same generation were a hassle.
Stretching his stiff back as he stood, Uiseong looked up at the sky blanketed in blooming plum blossoms.
‘At least I properly entered as a third-generation disciple.’
Thinking of someone who endured all sorts of envy and jealousy due to their unconventional entry path, Uiseong shook his head.
Then, as he glanced down at his feet, he froze in shock.
Huh? Where’d the kid go?
Looking around frantically, he spotted Biyeon crawling energetically toward the water again and shouted.
“Hey, kid! You really don’t let me take my eyes off you!”
“Biyeon!”
Before Uiseong could react, someone else was already rushing toward Biyeon.
We’re screwed. Cold sweat beaded on Uiseong’s forehead.
Uihyeon snatched Biyeon up just before he reached the water, cradling him, then turned to Uiseong with a chilling expression and strode over.
“Didn’t. I. Specifically. Tell you. Not to. Set the baby. Down. And not to. Take your eyes. Off him?”
“Ow! Ow! Senior Brother, let go and let’s talk! Aigoo, Senior Brother’s grabbing his junior!”
Uihyeon enunciated each word icily while yanking Uiseong’s ear hard, and Uiseong wailed in agony, pleading.
“Kyahaha!”
Y-You damn brat! Instead of stopping it, you’re laughing at your future master’s suffering?
Hearing Biyeon’s clear laughter from Uihyeon’s arms, Uiseong fumed.
He’d already drunk a full bowl of kimchi soup.
* * *
What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you think baby toys?
Pacifiers and rattles, obviously.
Ah, of course, this isn’t my modern world, so I know I can’t expect those two.
But surely there’s something similar.
So why the hell do I have a wooden sword in my hand…?
A rattle substitute? Is it natural in the wuxia world to give a baby who can’t even walk a wooden sword instead of a rattle?
It was about the size of a slightly large jackknife, light enough for a baby to hold in one hand, with a blunt tip so it wouldn’t hurt even if swung wrong, but what Elder Mujin had placed in my hand was definitely a wooden sword.
“Elder…? What’s this for a baby not even a year old…?”
“We need to leave behind at least one legend of a swordsman who swung a sword before taking his first steps, don’t we?”
Even he seemed embarrassed after saying it, clearing his throat awkwardly, but I glared up at him with cold eyes.
This old man’s turning me into a legend generator?
Stunned by the wooden sword gift for a moment, I immediately brought it to my mouth.
My gums were itchy from teething, making me want to chew on something constantly.
“Biyeon, no. That’s not for eating.”
As Uihyeon slyly took the wooden sword from my hand, I stretched out my arms and kicked my legs wildly. Give it back—it’s perfect for teething!
Just before I let out a mighty wail, Uihyeon reluctantly handed the wooden sword back with a resigned look.
As soon as I got it back and put it in my mouth, Elder Mujin tried to teach me that it’s for swinging, not biting. But I gnawed away in a trance.
Once the gum itch subsided, I finally took it out of my mouth.
Uihyeon quickly snatched the saliva-slick wooden sword and wiped it clean with a cloth.
The moment he handed it back, instead of my mouth, I swung it through the air.
Shuu, shu-shuuk. That’s not a sound from my mouth.
“Yes, Biyeon! Leave behind the legend of swinging a sword before walking!”
Elder Mujin clapped in encouragement. To meet his expectations, I half-heartedly swung my arm a few times and dropped the sword.
Even that moved Elder Mujin deeply; he scooped me up effortlessly in one arm and left the room.
Then he grabbed every elder he saw, bragging that our kid swung a sword before even taking a step.
“Plum blossoms! As members of Mount Hua Sect, we must bloom plum blossoms!”
“Right, Biyeon! Shall we learn the 24 Plum Blossom Sword Techniques?”
Just from being paraded around the elders’ quarters in Elder Mujin’s arms, I’d somehow become a once-in-a-century genius, and the rumors were spreading.
These old men were now trying to teach me Plum Blossom Swordsmanship.
Just the first form, please. Just one.
I’d learn it eventually once my name was officially on Mount Hua Sect’s roster, but not now.
“Plum Blossom Swordsmanship for a kid who can’t even walk? Get your heads on straight—you’re all nearing seventy!”
The Sect Leader’s bellow made the elders scatter sheepishly. Taking me from Elder Mujin, the Sect Leader smiled gently and hugged me.
“Swinging a sword already—impressive.”
What even is a baby’s life? Swing a random stick, and you get praised.
Anyway, the wooden sword became a pretty good teether and toy for me.
In a world without smartphones, with nothing to do but lie around or crawl, having this was something.
Sucking on it gave a woody taste(?) that was oddly addictive, and swinging it didn’t rattle like a rattle but made a whooshing wind sound.
As I lay there swinging the sword idly, a fly buzzing erratically caught my eye.
Jumong shot flies with arrows as a child, right? Then I’ll catch a fly with my sword and make a legend.
I swung diligently at the fly, but it annoyingly dodged the sword’s path every time.
My competitive spirit flared; I sat up and focused on smacking it.
But the fly was no pushover. It was a bitter battle that showed I was far from becoming a mythical figure like Jumong.
Fuming, I resorted to my final move: hurling the wooden sword at the fly with all my might.
It flew higher than I expected, soaring through the air toward the door.
And perfectly on cue, the door slid open with a rattle.
Uiseong effortlessly caught the incoming wooden sword and wagged it at me as he looked down.
“You’re not from the Sacheon Tang Clan throwing hidden weapons, kid. In real combat, dropping your sword means death.”