I Don't Want To
Disciple. No man who laughs too easily is ever sound of mind. To dare translate my master's sword qi into clumsy words would be nothing less than a desecration of its supreme beauty. After all, a sword is merely a sharpened stick, its only conceivable use to thrust and to cut—yet in my master's hand, it was never so limited. When birds needed chasing, it rang like a bell to raise a clamor; when sweeping fallen leaves from the yard, it proved finer than the broom I held. If snow piled upon the roof, a single tap of the pillar sent it tumbling down; if the hearth fire died, a thrust would kindle it anew. It had countless uses, but the one that most astonished me in childhood was watching her wield the sword as though it were a brush.
Whenever she wished to teach me something, she would first swing it once. Ordinarily such a gesture would be meant to demonstrate what I must do, yet when my master did it, the meaning was different. It was not merely showing me with her body and blade what I ought to perform; in a single stroke she conveyed what I was doing wrong, what I must do instead, how I must do it, and why. Only now do I realize it was the art of inscribing the heart upon the sword in empty air—that was precisely Simjeukgeom, the Heart-Sword.
When she spoke to me with the blade inside that house, it was the gentle explanation of a cherished disciple, filled only with affection. Yet today I saw that my master was not entirely indifferent; she could feel irritation toward the people of Yueyang who had taken her beloved disciple. Thus even when she spoke again with the sword, a touch of ill temper entered, turning it into something like debate. Still, when it came to discussing martial arts with a sword, no one in the world could match her. Just as the strategists of Wu had their arguments dismantled in a single stroke by Zhuge Liang's greater principle, whenever the others tried to defend themselves they fell at once into self-contradiction. In the end they could only admit that her words were correct. For a martial artist to acknowledge that their own enlightenment was mistaken is, at best, a new realization; at worst, it is the birth of an inner demon.
I had heard tales of masters expressing their inner state through sword dance, and of two masters debating martial theory day and night until one broke and suffered heart demons. But I had never heard of both happening at once. It seemed my master was the first to truly cut the heart with the Heart-Sword. A proud feat, yet the truth was that I, who had watched with wide eyes and open ears, stood in no different position from the others. I had already guessed what would come; closing my eyes then would have been enough. But I deliberately did not. After all, everything I had done until now had been for the sake of seeing my master grow irritated, had it not?
While I delightedly engraved the words her sword flung at me, the beliefs I had held scattered one by one, and questions I knew I could never pursue without being lost sank deep into my mind. Fortunately, my talent included the ability to deceive myself into believing or disbelieving something as needed. Without it, how could I imitate another's heart so convincingly and then return to my own? So even when I realized I was wrong, it was enough to believe the falsehood for as long as necessary. After a deep breath I gathered my shaken heart, swept the inner demon aside, and opened my eyes to the sound of light footsteps. It was my master.
Lying down to receive her would have been discourteous, so I forced my aching body upright and stepped down from the cart. She stood there, gazing at me with that same inscrutable—though now, perhaps, slightly more readable—expressionless face. My lips curved of their own accord.
"Have you been well all this time, Master?"
"I refuse."
For an instant I could not trust my ears. Why? The atmosphere had been good until just now. Had she truly been struck by some heart demon? Was the true master of Wugeuk Castle, the Great Martial Emperor or whoever he was, threatening to kill her if she followed him because of a heart demon? I unconsciously raised my qi to scan Yu Baek, wondering whether some spell I did not know had been cast upon him, but felt nothing at all. Baek only smiled broadly while receiving my qi. My head began to ache.
"Hmm..."
I withdrew my qi, swallowed, and pondered the reason for that answer. It did not take long to think of one possibility.
"I'm sorry. There may have been room for misunderstanding."
Now that I thought about it, the farce until today had also begun with accumulated small misunderstandings. I had nearly repeated the same mistake. I truly was a person lacking both eloquence and perception. Still, now that I was aware of the fact, it was somewhat better. At least I could correct it immediately.
"I did not mean for you to return home. How could I shamelessly suggest such a thing when I am the one who ruined your journey into the martial world? I only meant that, since you are badly injured, I would accompany you to wherever you wish to go."
Yu Baek smiled as before and shook his head.
"I refuse."
"..."
I calmly turned my thoughts again. What reason could Yu Baek have for not wanting to travel together? If I accompanied him, we would first return to Yueyang together. Then we would meet the two young ladies who remained in Yueyang, and then... When my thoughts reached that point, a sigh escaped me. I truly was a deficient person.
Suppose I were in Yu Baek's position. He had finally entered the martial world and was walking a flowery path of a harem, like the protagonist of some ridiculous wuxia novel—why would he not be disgusted if some meddlesome adult insisted on tagging along? It would be better to watch from behind until the day he returned in glory, helping only when something truly serious occurred, as today. Having considered the matter from his perspective, I said,
"I will not interfere with your martial journey. I only wish to accompany you as far as Yueyang, introduce you to those young ladies, and show my face from time to time when the occasion arises."
"I refuse."
Then what was I supposed to do? Once more I searched for any remaining room for misunderstanding. What reason could there be for not being able to introduce me to the group upon returning to Yueyang? Was he ashamed of me? Perhaps that was possible. A youth's heart was truly difficult for an adult to understand, so I decided not to press further. I asked,
"Baek-ah."
"Yes."
"What must I do for you to come with me?"
"I will not go."
Baek spoke slowly, as though chewing each word, while still smiling.
"I do not wish to go of my own accord. If you insist on taking me, then ignore my wishes and drag me along. You are capable of that, are you not?"
Baek's words struck the cavern wall, echoed several times, and scattered. I spent a long while searching for any possibility that his words stemmed from misunderstanding or that I had misunderstood them. Yet no matter how I considered it, the meaning of the exchange was clear. Yu Baek wanted to be rid of me as quickly as possible. I swallowed once and blinked. My heart seemed to have settled somewhat.
"Then let us talk here for a moment."
"Yes."
This time he did not refuse. I asked,
"What was your reason for coming to stab me that night?"
"I do not wish to say."
I looked up. There was no open sky, only a low ceiling that made my chest feel even more stifled. Still gazing at the ceiling, I asked,
"What must I do for you to tell me?"
"I do not know myself. Well..."
Baek paused briefly before continuing.
"If you were to imprison and threaten me, I might speak someday."
I squeezed my eyes shut. After suppressing my turbulent emotions a little, I realized there was still an unresolved misunderstanding. Turning my head with a heavy sigh, I rubbed my dry face with both palms, then lifted my gaze to meet Baek's.
"Baek-ah."
"Yes."
"You may not believe me, but I have never once tried to imprison you."
"Is that so?"
"It is."
I met Baek's eyes. He continued to smile with that unreadable expression.
"If you had said you wished to go to the village, I would have taken you. If you had wanted to leave the mountain and enter the martial world, I would have chosen the right time and sent you off. I apologize once more. Since I have never set foot in the martial world myself, I could not guess your feelings."
"I already knew that."
"You did... what?"
I lowered the hand that had been rubbing my eyes and looked up. Baek answered,
"I knew it long ago. If you had truly intended to raise me in confinement, you would have hidden the outside world from me from the beginning. Would you have brought me storybooks to read when I was bored, or told me tales of the world beyond each time? I did misunderstand, but not so foolishly as that."
I stared blankly for a moment, then asked the question that suddenly occurred to me.
"Then why did you run away?"
"I do not wish to say."
"...If I imprison and threaten you, will you tell me someday?"
"Perhaps I will."
"Baek-ah."
From far away came the faint sound of someone drawing breath. I narrowed my eyes and asked,
"Do you wish to anger me?"
"No."
Baek was still smiling. If anything, the corners of his mouth seemed to have risen higher.
"There was a time when I did, but not now."
I simply walked the long road. There was no longer any need to run, so I did not, yet I had no appetite when I tried to eat, and when I lay down to sleep the smiling face of that wretched boy rose in my mind and set my insides boiling, so rest was worse than none. The rain kept starting and stopping; whether because the air was already damp or not, my wet clothes refused to dry even on the second day. I passed many mountain ranges and encountered bandits twice, but my wretched appearance made them unafraid despite the sword at my waist. As always, I killed those who had learned martial arts and released the others after suppressing their will. Yet even that now seemed a ridiculous act. It had all begun when I started talking about being a responsible adult because of some thunder-brained brat, but now that the brat had grown enough to sever ties with me, would it not be enough to simply shut myself away in the mountains and pretend I did not exist?
When my thoughts reached that point, the legs that had walked without rest for twenty hours suddenly stopped. The road I now walked was, upon reflection, the road to Wuhan. But what reason did I have to go to Wuhan now? I had already met my disciple, and he had said he would not return. Whatever tightly hidden plan he might have, I had no obligation to see Jegal Ji again. There was a chance Teacher Cheon might become entangled in Jegal Ji's affairs, but since Teacher Cheon was the sort who only ever spoke to scratch at people's hearts without revealing his own thoughts, there was no particular obligation to worry about him. If that were all, I would have trusted that he would look after his own life and headed straight for Kunlun Mountain—yet I could not be certain whether the same Teacher Cheon who had joked about killing or not killing would properly protect Cho Yak simply because she was a fellow member of the Demon Cult.
"...In any case, no man who laughs too easily is ever sound of mind."
In the end, grumbling to myself, I could not turn my feet away and continued toward Wuhan. After a few more steps I remembered that I had to stop by Hangzhou and write a book for that fellow Cho. In any case, no man who laughs too easily...