This Isn't How It's Supposed to Go (1)
The instant my toe tapped down on a branch, my body shot naturally toward the next tree.
This was basically squirrel territory.
No, calling it "squirrel" might actually be underselling it a little.
Yeah — this was exactly the lightfoot technique you'd see in any wuxia novel. Wasn't this that famous Dengping Dushui — the Stepping-on-Duckweed-over-Water technique? All right, I was crossing branches instead of water, but honestly, wasn't it pretty much the same thing?
"Hoo... hooo."
I was supposed to be maintaining some gravitas, but the corners of my mouth kept twitching upward.
More importantly, when did this mountain ever end? I was pretty sure I'd come down a good distance by now, but no matter how high I leaped to survey the way ahead, the mist hung so thick that I couldn't gauge a thing.
Then—
Sshaaaaa─!
The roar of rushing water struck both my ears, and I came to a light stop on a branch, whipping my head around. That, without a doubt, was a waterfall. My heart lifted, and I veered toward the sound.
A moment later—
"Whoa."
The breathtaking sight unfolding before me stole my breath away. A sheer cliff wall vanishing into pale mist. A wild torrent of water crashing down from its edge. And beneath it all, a dense cloud of spray blooming upward through the air.
"Th-this is..."
This was straight out of a xianxia story!
"Ugh!!"
The excitement surged up all over again. Someone watching might have called me a giggling fool, but what could I do? I was actually standing in a world I'd only ever imagined my whole life!
"Well, since I've conveniently found a waterfall..."
I smiled as I walked forward.
"Might as well train under it for a while."
I shook loose my tightly bound hair, tossed even my tattered clothes carelessly onto a rock, and strode straight into the crashing water.
"Gwah, that's cold!!"
The moment my feet broke the surface, a bone-piercing chill wrenched a cry right out of me. What kind of waterfall was this — it was practically ice water.
But in that very instant, something inside my body stirred. A warm current came smoldering up from my lower abdomen — my dantian — and began pushing back against the cold.
"Hm...?"
Then the chill stopped feeling painful at all and started feeling positively exhilarating — like something flushing every blood vessel in my body wide open.
"Ah!"
So that's what this was! It was like overcoming that whole... what was it called again, the Cold Poison Physique?
No, wait. No it wasn't. I don't have the Cold Poison Physique.
Regardless, I settled into my stance, closed my eyes tight, and folded myself into a full lotus position. Focusing on the sensation of the waterfall striking the crown of my head, I kept driving my energy down into my dantian.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
In again, and out again.
Only the roar of the water and the sound of my own breath echoed between the cliff walls.
A good while later—
Splish, splash!
I scrambled back up onto the rock, shaking the water from my soaked hair. My body felt inexplicably refreshed. This was less like training and more like... well, like stepping out of a sauna with every ache and stiffness washed clean away?
Not that I had time to savor the moment. I wanted to get down the mountain fast and meet an actual martial artist, preferably yesterday. So thinking, I threw my clothes back on and started down the mountain path once more.
My footsteps felt feather-light. Even when the descent gave way to another climb, my body floated up the slope without the slightest strain. Had that slapdash waterfall training actually done some good after all?
Either way — that wasn't what mattered right now.
"How much farther is this going to go, seriously."
The mountain showed no sign of ending. The sun had been high overhead not long ago, but at some point the tree shadows had stretched out long across the ground.
I walked on and on, and when the new sun rose into the sky—
"Ha!"
Only then did the forest-choked view finally open wide, and the feeling beneath my feet changed. Not soft fallen leaves, but firm, packed earth. It was a groomed dirt road, worn smooth by countless human footsteps.
My heart pounded.
"Finally..."
Finally, off the mountain! If I just followed this road, a village or a town was bound to appear, right? Honestly, at this point I'd take anything — I just wanted something, anything, to show up.
"Oh wait, hold on. Hold on."
What was I supposed to do first when I got there? Head to an inn for a plate of dumplings and a cup of rice wine? Or march straight to the nearest sect and throw down a challenge for a friendly sparring match?
"Hmm."
Those worries evaporated in less than a second. And with a grin spreading across my face, I stepped forward.
"The Murim starts and ends at the inn, obviously."
I was strolling along, grinning ear to ear, when—
Dududududu.
The ground rumbled faintly.
"...?"
Thinking it just might be what I hoped, I stopped and crouched down. I pressed my ear to the dirt, and sure enough — hoofbeats. And not just one horse; at least two were moving.
"A cart, probably."
The weight behind the sound suggested it was coming loaded with rice straw or something similar.
"I'll just hitch a ride on the back, then."
It was a scene I'd seen a hundred times in wuxia novels — the protagonist hopping onto a passing cart at the edge of town, riding it straight into the story. The road still looked a fair distance off, so I'd sit right here and wait.
Though with the state I was in, would it even be okay? I looked like a beggar — and not even a very good one, the kind of wretch real beggars wouldn't bother with. Then again, it wasn't like I was unbearable to look at. Weren't all those martial artists fresh out of secluded training always supposed to look roughly this disheveled anyway?
A long while later, the hoofbeats drew steadily closer.
"Heh heh heh, here it comes, here it comes."
Leaning slightly forward with anticipation, I stared down the far end of the road.
And then—
"...Huh?"
At the impossible sight before my eyes, my mind went blank for a moment. The straw-laden cart was nowhere to be found — instead, some glittering, gold-leafed carriage was barreling straight toward me.
"Why on earth is something like that in the Murim?"
I muttered without meaning to. And that coachman, above all — a pale-faced man with his hair slicked back neatly, dressed in a black tuxedo with a bowtie to match. That was clothing that could not, under any circumstances, exist in the Murim.
The man passed right by my frozen form, glancing at me the way one might glance at a bug.
"..."
Tension crept into my body on its own. Just moments ago I'd been grinning to myself about hitching a ride, but now that I'd actually come face to face with it, something felt unmistakably wrong.
Still, I couldn't just let it pass. This was the first human contact I'd made since coming down the mountain — and given how starved I was right now, I couldn't afford to brush off something suspicious. I had to ask about something, at the very least.
With that decided, I kicked off the ground.
Pat!
My body lifted, and I settled lightly onto the roof of the moving carriage. The landing was perfect — so quiet you wouldn't have heard a sound.
The problem was that the coachman, apparently noticing nothing at all, just kept driving.
But now that I was up here... what exactly was I supposed to ask? Where is this? What's the deal with this carriage? Is there a village or town nearby? And on top of that, this was my first conversation with anyone here — how was I even supposed to talk?
"Ugh, whatever."
I scratched the back of my head, then gave the coachman's shoulder a light tap.
"E-excuse me, there."
"Heek!?"
"WAAAH!!"
He must have been startled out of his mind — the coachman shrieked, staggered, and hauled hard on the reins.
Hiihihihihiing!!
Screeeech!!
The carriage lurched and clattered to a sudden halt. Not that I was about to fall off or anything.
The coachman looked back, the reins still clenched tight in his fists. His hands and jaw trembled violently, and his face had gone deathly pale.
I suppose anyone would be startled to hear a voice suddenly pipe up from the roof while they were minding their own business driving. I felt a little bad, honestly.
"I have some questions. Where exactly is this place — and what in the world is this carriage—"
"Hoo... hooo..."
Still apparently unable to process the situation, the coachman only exhaled a trembling breath through a face that had left its soul entirely behind.
"Hello there?"
"AAAAAH!!"
At my second call, the coachman let out another scream and leapt straight down to the ground. His reaction was so abrupt that even I was thrown off balance.
"Y-y-y-YOU!! Wh-who are you!!"
The coachman staggered back a few steps, jabbed a finger at me, and shouted.
"Me? Uh... I'm..."
The moment I tried to say it, my words caught in my throat.
"..."
Come to think of it — I don't even have a name yet, do I? Getting so wrapped up in training my martial arts that I forgot the single most basic thing. Penalty: a thousand squats later.
"WHO ARE YOU?!!"
"Uh, um, that's..."
Should I give my real name? No, that'd be weird. This is the Murim — introducing myself with my original name would be its own kind of ridiculous. Then what would be good?
"Jincheon? Tsk, too common."
The kind of name anyone who'd read even a little wuxia had seen at least once.
"Cheonhwi is... ha, this one's a bit iffy too."
Then what about adding a surname — Dokgocheon?
"No."
It felt like I was desperately trying too hard to look cool. I hated it. Cheonsoun had a nice, gentle, warm sort of image... but anyone with the character for "cloud" in their name died young in pretty much every story, didn't they?
"Hmm..."
Stroking my chin, I turned the problem over and over. A name like this deserved real care — slap one together now and regret it later, and there'd be no fixing it.
"Why are you grinning like a creep all of a sudden!!"
"Hm? Me?"
My mind snapped back to attention.
"There's no one else here but you!!"
"Ah."
The name could wait; I could mull that over at my leisure later. Right now there was something more urgent.
"Forget it. Like I said, I have questions."
With that, I hopped lightly down from the roof of the carriage.
"Eucha—!"
In the very instant of my landing—
"Vincio."
⟨ BINDING ⟩
From inside the carriage came a short, elegant woman's voice. At the same moment, a round light bloomed pure white from the ground where I'd landed — and out of that light, slender stalks erupted, wrapping themselves around my arms, my legs, even the back of my neck in a heartbeat.
"Huh?"
I tried to twist free of them, but my body didn't budge an inch. Held rigid in place exactly where I stood, I could only stare blankly down at the strange light coiled around me.
"...What is this?"
Stepping-on-Duckweed-over-Water (Dengping Dushui): A lightfoot technique that lightens the body enough to move nimbly across the tiniest blades of grass or floating duckweed on the water's surface.
Cold Poison Physique (Handokjiche): A constitution born with an extreme excess of yin-cold energy, leaving body temperature and circulation abnormally frigid — one in which the cold poison gradually erodes the body as time passes.