A Spar with the Disciple
"By any chance, do you make artifacts and such?"
I asked casually, and Heukam Dosa shook his head.
"Martial artists like you must be really into that stuff. I dabbled in it briefly as a side gig back in the day, but I quit quick. Selling artifacts gets you tangled in all sorts of messy karma that comes back to bite you. Especially when they're soaked in thick bloodlust."
He spat it out like it left a bad taste, then dove back into his naming work. He scrawled bold hanja characters with his brush, flipping through a book for reference. He looked every bit the fortune-teller in a philosopher's hut.
This guy's a taoist master, but he's not just making prayer beads—he's naming stuff too. Does it all.
I slipped out of his room so I wouldn't disturb him. Didn't seem like there was anything more to squeeze out of him right now.
Jin Sawol was weeding the field out front. I rolled up my sleeves at the sight of her sweating under the blazing sun.
"Anything I can help with?"
She turned at my words, wiping the sweat streaming down her forehead with her arm.
"I'm good. You're busy solving Master Han's puzzle anyway."
What a self-reliant woman.
"Sometimes switching gears helps when you're stuck. I'm just a guest, but you've been treating me like royalty—food, bed, the works. Put me to work like a farmhand."
I pushed hard, and she relented on her stubbornness. Nothing builds rapport like sweating side by side.
"Fine, then help me pick these weeds."
While working the field, I stole glances at her. Soil dotted her face—it was damn alluring. She had that special aura you only get from a woman exerting herself. Men are wired to be drawn to healthy, vibrant women. The frail beauty type is a niche taste.
Her indigo jeogori top and light brown skirt suited her wholesome vibe perfectly.
The old styles have their charm.
A urge bubbled up to hike up that long skirt. But following my dick's whims would ruin everything, so I fiddled with her panties—tucked safely in my pocket—to stifle the impulse.
Thanks to my help, we finished quick. She whipped up some mung bean pancakes as a snack.
Doesn't post-work grub always taste like honey?
"You're no ordinary martial artist. Thanks."
"You seem pretty tough yourself, Miss Jin. Training martial arts under the Master, maybe?"
"Hmm... something like that?"
"I see. Dig in. Miss."
Like I'd noticed yesterday, her cooking was top-notch. Hard to compare to modern food with these rustic ingredients, but the clean flavors hit just right. And after farm work, that snack with market greens as a side? Perfection.
"That oily aroma's wafting into my room. Disciple, fetch me one too."
Heukam Dosa slid open the sliding door.
"What snack for a bookworm scholar? Nothing for you, Master."
She grumbled but still brought him pancakes with a side of liquor. That tsundere way of caring for her own was irresistible. My male possessiveness stirred.
She'd make a thrifty, devoted wife. Gotta have her.
Sturdy as a bowl of seolleongtang. Pretty too—no reason not to fuck her.
First come, first served, right?
"Thanks for the feast. First time for pancakes this good. Yesterday's drinks too—your cooking's excellent, Miss."
"Master's picky about his booze spread. But having someone besides the old man to cook for makes it more fun than usual."
She glanced at her master's room.
Her favor's shot up since yesterday.
Not ready for romance yet, though. Foundation's not solid enough.
"You said you're from Hubei, Young Hero Jong? Must be worlds apart from this backwater."
She cleared the table and tossed me a question.
"Yeah. Hubei's one of the Central Plains' big hubs. Famous for the Wudang Sect, a root of the martial world, but that's just the start—tons more to it. No mountains like Jangbaeksan, though."
"Hmph. This place is all harsh peaks. Night brings beasts that devour people. Keeps even the tax collectors away."
Taxes scarier than tigers, huh? Folks in this slash-and-burn village are probably refugees from poverty back home. Baekdu's crawling with herbs, so herbalists won't starve, but it's no paradise. Especially with all the spirit beasts lurking—docile ones exist, but the vicious ones are plentiful.
Take Jin Sawol right here: doomed by a spirit beast in the original story.
Not anymore, now that I'm here.
"How's life in the Central Plains?"
She opened up, peppering me with questions about the heartland. She looked just like any girl her age, full of curiosity. I unloaded a bundle of stories for her. Her rapt attention made it fun to talk.
"Whoa. Nothing like this village. Maybe I'll head to the Central Plains once Master passes."
"A woman wandering alone is dangerous. Even I ran into bandits coming here. Mountains crawl with the 72 Green Forest Strongholds, rivers with the 18 Yangtze Waterway Bandits. Killers everywhere who only know the blade. No mercy or righteousness—just skin men alive and rape pretty girls before selling them to brothels."
"Oh my. That bad?"
"Worse. Sneaky bastards hide yelling 'no jurisdiction' when officials show with ropes. Catch 'em and more pop up—it's a chronic issue from the martial world's ecosystem."
"Ecosystem?"
"Simple. Martial artists are wild savages who only know fighting. Starving ones turn bandit—what else? They shake down escort agencies passing mountains. Brutal part: green forest and escorts have a symbiotic deal."
"What?"
"Escorts pay tolls. Bandits take the cash, leave escorts alone. But if the empire wipes out bandits? Chaos. No thieves means no need for escorts. Agencies fold, escorts—martial artists—go bandit."
"Vicious cycle."
"Yup. Martial world's rotten core. What I saw was 30,000 miles from chivalrous romance. All tangled in power plays. Maybe Sword Ghost roamed with his blade to clean that filth... just my humble guess. Haha."
I rambled without thinking. She listened with interest, then flashed a mischievous grin.
"Fun stuff. But that rough world's not so bad. And I've learned from Master how to protect myself."
Confident as hell. As Heukam Dosa's disciple, she'd at least hold her own. Especially with that Mukhyeol Yeomju—proper use could let her escape even experts.
"Martial world's full of lifelong blade-for-hire types."
"Baekdu's got beasts treating grown men like snacks. If I were some frail housewife, I'd be tiger chow by now."
Her words sparked curiosity about her skills.
She's dead early in the original, so no showcase. Heukam Dosa's powers just mentioned, never shown.
That confidence means she's got the goods—or trusts that bracelet implicitly.
"You said no martial arts, but something else from the Master?"
"Yep! He taught me daosu. Minor stuff, but enough to guard my own body."
She patted her chest. One of the abilities from Extreme Sword Heavenly Line, but I hadn't seen it yet. Heukam Dosa's cloud-riding was probably daosu too.
Anyway, daosu piqued my interest.
"If it's not rude, could I see your skills?"
She lit up like she'd been waiting.
"Hehe, I was gonna ask! I wanna see a martial artist's techniques. Spar with me?"
I wanted daosu; she wanted wugong. Perfect match.
"Not into roughing up ladies, but as the Master's disciple, you're no ordinary woman."
"No spar experience, so I might not control my strength. But you're from the Central Plains... should be fine?"
Playful provocation. Her cute attitude killed any annoyance.
Unknown skills meant no full complacency. Extreme Sword has killer female experts—Xue Hualin, Mo Seyoung, Dan Yuha. No shock if she's one too.
Plus that bracelet—might be tough to beat.
My goal wasn't victory. It was winning her favor. Total humiliation would just make me pitiful, so play it balanced.
We headed to Biryubokpo. Sparring's no backyard brawl by the veggie patch. Only spot nearby was the waterfall.
"Rules?"
No rules, and things could escalate.
"No killing blows. Ends with surrender or back to the ground."
"Sounds good."
We faced off three zhang apart. She grinned at me.
"Fair warning: underestimate me 'cause I'm a girl, and you'll regret it."
"No complacency here."
"Great. Starts when the squirrel on that tree moves."
"Got it."
My words barely ended when the squirrel leaped to another branch.
Our spar began.