Cultivator: Jongchil 12 - The Golden Spring
I woke up from my nap to find Han Kangwoo sitting on the veranda, sipping tea. I sat up and bowed my head.
"You've arrived, Master."
"Biryubokpo waterfall is better for a nap, but this isn't bad either. Sleep well?"
"My apologies."
"No need. Since this land had no owner, anyone has the right to build a hermitage and sleep here."
He handed me a warm teacup. It was barley tea inside. My tongue was dry from just waking up—perfect timing. I quenched my throat with the warm barley tea.
"No hesitation on your face. Looks like you've grasped a clue. Ah, did that Pig-Nose Taoist tell you something?"
I watched Han Kangwoo's expression carefully before speaking cautiously. Would admitting it score me negative points? After a brief moment of worry, I nodded. Han Kangwoo and Heukam Dosa were close friends, so he probably wouldn't reprimand me harshly for getting a hint from him.
"He gave me the key to solving the puzzle."
"I see. Well, that's your ability too. That friend of mine seems as interested in you as I am—don't worry about it. Pig-Nose Taoist or not, he's no evildoer."
"I know."
I poured the remaining tea into my mouth and looked up. Han Kangwoo downed the rest of his barley tea as well. His eyes held a wistful glow, as if reminiscing about the past. Was he looking at my eyes? Or at his own reflection in them?
"Wandering the Central Plains and returning here... so many things have happened. Time is truly fleeting," Han Kangwoo murmured, gazing at the clouds hanging over the distant Jangbaeksan peaks. The scenery of the cloud-draped ridgeline was magnificent. I wondered if the clouds Heukam Dosa rode were out there somewhere. That thought made me question if Heukam Dosa was actually an immortal.
As Han Kangwoo's close friend, using all sorts of odd techniques— it wouldn't be strange if he were an immortal. Plus, he can read the weather.
Like Han Kangwoo, who could ascend to immortality anytime he wanted, Heukam Dosa might be at that level too. Meeting him in person showed just how extraordinary he was.
"So, what's your answer?"
Han Kangwoo slowly turned his head toward me, finally asking for my response. Without hesitation, I stood and moved to a corner of the hermitage. His gaze followed me.
"The golden spring. Isn't that it right there?"
I pointed downward as I spoke. My finger indicated a breathtaking vista below the cliff: a fantastical scene where golden kerria flowers bloomed in full splendor. Just looking at it, I could almost smell the sweet fragrance wafting up. The golden kerria, like molten gold ornaments, were planted at precise intervals, forming a single character.
春
Following the golden trails of the kerria flowers revealed the character. It was a small garden artificially arranged by someone. I turned to Han Kangwoo triumphantly.
"A literally shining golden spring. This must be the golden spring you spoke of, Sword Ghost."
The answer to the riddle was crystal clear: the character for spring (chun), written in literal gold.
Han Kangwoo, arms crossed, chuckled at my declaration. He picked up his empty teacup and stood. As he walked slowly toward me, his face brimmed with irrepressible delight. He sat beside me and set the cup down.
"Beautiful, isn't it? My own little paradise. I put so much effort into it that the kerria never wilt, no matter the season. Even if the whole world freezes in winter, this spot stays spring."
His expression turned to that of an artist proud of his creation. It was probably how I looked when bragging about my novels. I fully understood his mood.
"Wandering heroes of the martial world are said to cultivate their heroic spirit by admiring nature's wonders. Whether that's true or not, knowing how to enjoy elegance is a good thing—especially for those pursuing the martial way. Do you know why?"
"I'm not sure."
I knew the explanation from the original story where Han Kangwoo told Gong Woosun, but I yielded the floor to him. This was the right moment.
"Because perfecting the martial arts is an excruciating process. Potters whose works endure through history smash their child-like ceramics hundreds, thousands of times before blazing kilns. Scholars stay up nights revising to craft soul-stirring prose. Master smiths forging legendary blades hammer through bodily agony. Tempering my body is no different."
Han Kangwoo paused to steady his breath. His gaze shifted to the kerria garden he'd made.
"Pain breaks humans. It breeds inner demons, which seize the mind. If heart demons claim you and you lose your path, you're done as both warrior and man. Overcoming it is no easy feat. Geniuses who overestimate their talent fall to qi deviation and meet tragic ends for this reason."
A sweet floral scent tickled my nose. Strength filled Han Kangwoo's voice. The garden's fragrance seemed to spread everywhere. It wasn't an illusion—he was surely exerting his power.
"That's why martial artists must always have a guiding principle to avoid losing themselves: leisure. To endure self-flagellation, you must know rest and practice it. So never lose your leisure. Those who trek from distant Central Plains to here have the grit to climb thousand-foot cliffs, but no spare moment to glance at the scenery... not even to behold the beautiful garden right before them."
I listened quietly to Han Kangwoo. Finishing his speech, he turned to me with a gentle expression.
"I leave it to you, my first disciple."
I performed the disciple's bow to Han Kangwoo. The fateful encounter was complete.
"Thank you, Master. Please speak plainly to me now. I will do my utmost to carry on your legacy."
*-*-*
Han Kangwoo's training began the very next day. Our training ground was Biryubokpo waterfall. Nothing around here beat it. The cool mist from the cascading water naturally cooled the summer heat.
Before starting, Han Kangwoo pulled a small hourglass from his bosom. He flipped it and tucked it away. At that instant, a faint dizziness hit my head. Simultaneously, the surroundings blurred. It felt like we'd entered a glass dome.
I realized something strange was happening centered on this small space at Biryubokpo—or more precisely, on Han Kangwoo.
His immortal playtime begins.
It was a special power only those at the pinnacle of ascension could use: slowing time in this area. Time around Biryubokpo flowed far slower than outside. In the original story, Gong Woosun achieved massive growth in a short time thanks to this ability. That's why I'd left Danyuha in Hobuk—because of Han Kangwoo's power. If the training dragged on too long, forcing Danyuha into long solitude, I'd have brought her along somehow.
"Before we begin, I want to test your skills. Attack me however you like, any way you want."
Han Kangwoo stood defenseless before me. I nodded and raised my fist.
No matter how hard I try, I won't even scratch him.
Han Kangwoo was one of the strongest in the Extreme Sword Immortal world. A nobody like me couldn't harm him.
"Here I go then."
I assumed a proper straight punch stance and channeled mana. It flowed from my heart, circulating through my body. Mana and internal energy were similar yet different. But their outward auras were so alike that anyone unaware of mana couldn't distinguish them.
"A curious power."
Yet Han Kangwoo spotted the difference instantly. As expected of the world's pinnacle. He didn't pry further. At his level, did the type of power even matter? His attitude toward the unknown was utterly transcendent, like a true immortal beyond worldly concerns.
I closed in and swung my fist. A straightforward stance, straightforward power accumulation, straightforward straight punch. Too honest, yet brimming with honest force.
Perfect!
My focus peaked; it was my most flawless straight punch ever. Even I shivered thrusting it out.
Han Kangwoo didn't dodge. If he had even a chick-tear's worth of intent to evade, I'd never land it. Fortunately, he didn't. I didn't slow my punch even in this surreal situation of pummeling my master—since it was obvious I couldn't hurt him anyway.
My fist pierced Han Kangwoo's abdomen.
What the—!?
No foreign sensation on my knuckles.
Shifting Shadows!
Han Kangwoo hadn't moved—at least, not to my eyes. Of course, what I saw wasn't full truth. But for someone with my exceptional dynamic vision to be fooled until my fist pierced the afterimage was humiliating. Good thing it was Han Kangwoo. I couldn't track his movement at all. It was like he'd cast an illusion. Real illusion? Or speed-based evasion? Confusion hit me.
Han Kangwoo was right beside where I'd punched—about half a chi (roughly 15cm) from his original spot.
Feels similar to Master Kim Minyoung.
Still, I knew who'd win if they fought: Han Kangwoo, no contest. That tiny motion revealed the Pacific Ocean gulf between us.
"Solid fundamentals. Looks like you had a good master before me."
Han Kangwoo indirectly praised Master Kim Minyoung. Without replying, I chained another punch, redirecting momentum from right to left fist—another straight punch. It missed, naturally. I still couldn't see how his body moved. It transcended my perception.
Spin with the punch, then low kick!
I aimed for an opening with punch-kick combo, but no dice. For nearly half a shichen, I flailed at him like a punching bag. This was less sparring, more grueling labor. My stamina depleted multiple times, forcing rest-attack cycles. Yet I couldn't land a hit; it felt like striking illusions. Given our skill gap, it was expected.
Time for my ultimate move!
I finally unleashed my trump card: Time Pause, the bullshit skill that stops time. It drained most of my stamina, but date palm fruit restored it quick.
Can't dodge this for real, right?
I struck the frozen Han Kangwoo properly. My fist, drained of color, targeted his halted body. Then, his body moved again.
Insane! Moving inside Time Pause!?
Thinking about it, he wielded immortal power to slow time. He might have a superior version of my ability.
I wasn't the only shocked one. Amazement crossed Han Kangwoo's face.
"You manipulated time. Impressive. To have time-based powers... You're no genius I've met before, but..."
He smiled faintly and continued.
"You're definitely strong. I guarantee it."