The Mind Sword's Whisper
Would you believe it if the wind brushing against the tip of the Mind Sword sounded like a celestial maiden plucking her pipa?
"Ah..." Gok Yun, the Ghost-Eyed Blind Warrior, had never once regretted being born blind—until this very moment. He found himself resenting his useless eyes. Every question lay there, and so did every answer. The nature of power and motion, the interplay of hardness and softness, the way entanglement and glancing contact were decided—all of it was there. Perhaps even something that pierced through everything lay beyond it. Yet his Heaven-Penetrating Mind-Reading Eye and echolocation, which had never failed him before, proved far too dull to capture the sword's true form. The flash that split an instant never reached his lightless eyes, and the whisper of the trembling blade was crushed into a shapeless mess by dust and wind from ten jang away. Like trying to trace characters written on a river and set adrift, he could only grasp the faint, fading traces, and by the time he understood what they were, nothing remained.
First came the chaotic clamor of metal and wood striking the ground, echoing through the cavern. Then came the soft thuds of bodies slumping down, one after another. Only then did Gok Yun regain his senses. He turned his head and swept his awareness across the entire cavern. The sight was truly peculiar. In the vast space lay six hundred and twenty-three medical disciples, each having learned one move of martial arts—some sprawled, some seated, some collapsed on their knees. Yet not a single one bore any injury. They merely breathed quietly and evenly, as though asleep where they had fallen.
The only ones still standing were Gok Yun himself and one other on the altar platform. With a sigh, Gok Yun walked toward it. As he stepped onto the platform, he heard a faint, steady heartbeat. Looking down, he saw Sama Geon sitting calmly, performing tonap. Even the Martial Emperor had merely learned the technique.
Gok Yun was about to sigh again in pity when he felt a gaze and lifted his head. Yuyu was watching him.
"Five hundred and ninety-nine," Gok Yun said.
"So it is," Yuyu replied.
"I can only be grateful for your merciful treatment."
"It's nothing. I don't even know when they'll wake."
Yuyu sheathed her sword. Gok Yun, who had been straining to glean something even from the sound of the blade scraping the scabbard, finally could not hold back.
"Could you not show it to me as well?"
Yuyu kept her eyes on the hilt as she answered. "I understand your feelings, but it would be pointless. I only threw out the most tangled questions one could chase after. Dressed up in splendor, yet no different from a dagger lodged in the heart. If one forgets it quickly, perhaps it would be fine—but if one becomes entangled, it may take months to return."
"Even so, someone will surely attain enlightenment."
"Then that person was always meant to attain it."
"I would like to test whether I am such a person."
Beyond closed eyelids, Gok Yun's and Yuyu's gazes met. After a long moment of simply looking at each other, Yuyu suddenly lifted the corner of her mouth in a faint smile.
"Honestly, wasn't the castle lord's life worth more than a single towel?"
"Of course."
"Then this is the remainder of the payment. Simply keep wondering."
Leaving the dazed Gok Yun behind, Yuyu descended from the platform. After walking a short distance across the floor, the cart covered with a blanket drew near. Her steps gradually slowed, then stopped five paces away. The cart creaked. Yu Baek's legs swung over the edge one by one, his feet touched the ground, and bracing both arms on the cart, he pushed himself upright.
"Have you been well, Master?"
Though Yu Baek's legs trembled even as he leaned on the cart, his face was radiant with a smile. Yuyu stood quietly watching him before answering, a beat late.
"Yes."
"This unworthy disciple has caused you worry. I am sorry."
"It's fine."
Neither spoke again. The cavern held only the breathing of six hundred and twenty-six people and the crackle of torches. After a while, the cart Yu Baek leaned on slipped slightly, letting out a squeak. Yuyu reached out in a hurry, but before her hand could touch it, Yu Baek steadied the cart with his other hand. When he lifted his head, master and disciple's eyes met across a mere half-jang.
Yuyu fumbled for words several times before finally speaking. "Are you badly hurt?"
"Yes."
"Foolish boy."
"I'm sorry."
Having nothing more to add to that answer, Yuyu fell silent, and Yu Baek likewise said nothing. More time passed. Yuyu cleared her throat. When Yu Baek's gaze followed, she averted her eyes awkwardly and said, "Your exploits were quite spectacular."
"I am only ashamed."
"Ashamed, my foot. I was proud."
Surprised by the unexpected reply, Yu Baek could not answer at once. Instead, Yuyu continued.
"...I should have said this earlier, but I have never gone out into the martial world myself."
"Is that so?"
"Yes."
Yuyu cleared her throat again, buying time. Yu Baek simply watched. "So I did not know when or how one should enter the martial world, and in the end I only made things difficult for you. As your master, I was lacking. I am truly sorry."
"There is no need to apologize at all."
"Of course there is. I never taught you a single thing, yet you managed so well on your own."
Before Yu Baek could speak, Yuyu asked, "You were in Yueyang, I hear. Did you visit Yueyang Tower?"
"Yes."
"Then you have fought several times, made life-and-death decisions, and even seen Yueyang Tower."
Yu Baek quickly tallied his experiences and answered, "That is correct."
"I have only fought twice so far. As a martial artist I may not compare, but as someone of the martial world, you have already surpassed me—qing chu yu lan er qing yu lan."
Yuyu spoke with a smile, but Yu Baek, not understanding, asked, "What does that mean?"
"It is just something people say. Ah, right—you mentioned traveling with two young ladies. Where are they?"
Yu Baek thought for a moment, then replied, "I left them in Yueyang."
"I suppose I should meet them sometime as well."
Silence fell once more. Yet this silence carried no trace of tension—only a gentle calm, comfortable even without words. After a while, Yuyu spoke.
"This incident happened entirely because of me. I am sorry."
"It is not your fault. If I had not said unnecessary things, they would have brought me here peacefully."
Yuyu frowned. "You knew that and still did it?"
"I can only apologize."
Yuyu's sigh echoed loudly through the cavern. After a pause, she smiled again. Their eyes met, and her lips parted.
"Let us go together."
Her back grew distant, and after some time, it disappeared from view. Gok Yun, who had been watching quietly, turned his head and met Yu Baek's eyes.
"Why did you do that?" Gok Yun asked, his voice filled with questions.
Yu Baek answered, "Because I like my master."
Yet even after hearing the answer, the wrinkles on Gok Yun's face only deepened. "How does that lead to this?"
"Is it not human nature to want back what one gives?"
Even as he spoke, Yu Baek clawed at the bandages wrapped tightly around his legs. But with both body and mind exhausted, it was no easy task. The thick layers only lifted slightly before settling back into place.
"That... how does that lead to this?"
"The story is too long to explain everything... hup! Rather, could you help me remove these?"
"You will only have to redo them anyway. Why not lie down?"
"I cannot do that."
Yu Baek finally dragged one leg and began limping toward the weapons scattered on the floor. Gok Yun sighed and rose. Though not at the level to open a grand clinic, Gok Yun possessed considerable medical skill thanks to past connections. Yu Baek's condition was clearly poor; if he continued to strain himself, the wounds would surely fester. His master had gone to great lengths to ensure no lasting aftereffects—yet here he was, creating them himself. If that happened, Gok Yun would have no face to show either the master who would suffer an inner demon for some time, or the disciple's own master who had spared his life. He intended to force Yu Baek back down regardless.
Yet as Gok Yun approached, he stopped five jang away. The ability that had earned him the title Ghost-Eyed Blind Warrior was the Heaven-Penetrating Mind-Reading Eye. Though called an "eye," it was no ordinary eye—it awakened a miraculous sense that perceived soul and mind. Born with keen perception, his blindness had instead become a great boon for cultivating this art, allowing him to reach considerable heights at a young age. He often discerned what others, even with open eyes, could not. In this, he had always been confident. But today, for the first time, Gok Yun doubted his own gift.
"...Are you happy?"
"That ability of yours seems quite useful. Yes. I can say with certainty that today is the happiest day of my life since I was born."
As he spoke, Yu Baek diligently sliced at the bandages with the sword he had picked up. Gok Yun, having forgotten his original purpose, asked, "What makes you so happy?"
"I learned that my master likes me."
"Then have you not received back what you gave?"
"Not to that extent yet."
"Why is that?" Gok Yun asked.
Yu Baek stopped cutting and lifted his head, gazing beyond the bronze gate as he answered. "My master respected my will for my sake."
"Is that a problem?"
"I could disregard my master's will if it were for her sake. So I want her to become the same."
Watching that wistful gaze, Gok Yun clicked his tongue inwardly. Master and disciple alike—when the relationship between teacher and student was formed wrongly, life truly became a path of hardship.