Hwa-yeon Hall
Master led me to Hwa-yeon Hall.
In front of the main building stood a training ground so large it rivaled the hall itself.
Children in white training robes embroidered with plum blossoms at the chest and sleeves clustered together, each of them holding a wooden sword.
“This is Hwa-yeon Hall. I came with you today to show you the way, but from tomorrow on, you’ll have to find it on your own. Will you be all right?”
“Of course. Once training is over, I’ll try going back by myself as well.”
“Mm, I’m sure you’ll do fine. You don’t have to be exceptional, but you mustn’t neglect your effort. Even when your master isn’t watching at Hwa-yeon Hall, you must still work hard.”
“This unworthy disciple will always strive onward.”
Master lightly rubbed the top of my head as if I were endearing.
There he goes, patting me again.
Still, I had been a twenty-eight-year-old man in my previous life.
It was embarrassing to admit, but being treated like a child wasn’t all that unpleasant.
Maybe it was because, between my past and present lives, I’d rarely been treated like one.
A faint, ticklish feeling spread through me.
While I was still speaking with my master, the instructor standing atop the platform noticed us.
He lifted himself lightly into the air and reached us in a single breath.
“Senior Brother Yoo. What brings you here?”
“I’ve come to leave my newly taken disciple in your care.”
Master gave my back a light tap with his palm. As if on cue, I blurted out a formal greeting to the martial instructor.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Yoo Sung-woon. I humbly ask for your strict guidance and instruction.”
“I heard that Senior Brother had taken in a disciple, but…”
The instructor gave my greeting only a sidelong glance before turning back to his conversation with Master.
“Did I hear correctly that he grasped Falling Blossom Sword Art?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve brought in a remarkable disciple. Still, wouldn’t it have been better to wait until after his dantian was formed?”
“The Sect Leader also judged that the child’s aptitude wasn’t poor, so I decided it would be fine. The boy himself was eager as well.”
The Sect Leader’s name carried great weight within the Mount Hua Sect.
Not merely because of his position as Sect Leader.
Even after the divine art he had mastered was lost in actual combat, he had still risen to the rank of one of the Ten Great Masters of the martial world through effort alone.
For that reason, the disciples of Mount Hua respected him not only as Sect Leader, but as a martial artist as well.
With an irrefutable name brought into the discussion, the instructor changed his mind too.
“If the Sect Leader judged him that way, then I suppose so… Still, just in case, I’ll ease him into basic training gradually for the next few days.”
“Good. I appreciate it.”
Master lightly patted the instructor’s shoulder and then left Hwa-yeon Hall.
By then, when I turned my gaze back toward the training ground, the children were all staring this way.
Apparently, adult conversations were the sort of thing that drew a child’s attention.
The instructor watched Master’s back until it disappeared from sight, then spoke to me.
“My name is Gwon Do-ik. You should technically call me Uncle Martial, but here at Hwa-yeon Hall, just call me Instructor Gwon.”
“Understood, Instructor Gwon.”
“From now on, you’ll train here at Hwa-yeon Hall and temper your body so you can learn the Mount Hua arts. How do you feel? You may answer honestly.”
“I’m nervous.”
Instructor Gwon looked at me with a hint of confusion.
“Nervous?”
“I’m not nervous because of the martial arts. I’m simply happy to learn them. That’s why I’m nervous.”
He heard my answer and slowly nodded.
“Remember that feeling well. When the work grows hard, if you recall that state of mind, you’ll be able to swing your sword one more time than you otherwise could.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Good. Follow me.”
I trailed after Instructor Gwon into the training grounds.
The young disciples of Mount Hua, as well as the second-generation disciples teaching the third-generation ones together with Instructor Gwon, all sent me sharp, curious looks.
That training fanatic… he’s not here, I see.
It wasn’t surprising that she wasn’t here.
Ha Seo-hwa had always preferred training alone to training with others.
Instructor Gwon stood before the third-generation disciples and drew their attention with a clearing of his throat.
“Introduce yourselves.”
I gave a slight nod with my eyes closed, then opened my mouth.
“My name is Yoo Sung-woon. I look forward to training with all of you.”
“Good. You’ll probably want to exchange names with your senior brothers, but we’ve lost a bit of time. Sorry, but save the introductions until after training. Go stand at the far left.”
“Yes, sir.”
I went to the back and adjusted my grip on the wooden sword.
Instructor Gwon climbed onto the platform and served as the demonstration model for the first martial form.
The third-generation disciples then copied his movements a breath later.
The other second-generation disciples moved among them, correcting the stances of the third-generation disciples as they trained to match Instructor Gwon’s motions.
“Sung-woon, was it? You’re doing well for someone who’s here for the first time.”
“That’s only because the masters and instructors have guided me so well.”
“Hmhm, you’ve got a pretty sharp tongue on you. I heard about your entrance test. The sect has high expectations for you, so work hard.”
“I will!”
The martial arts taught in Hwa-yeon Hall weren’t any different from what I had practiced the day before.
They were all Mount Hua’s fundamentals.
From now on, I’d have to roll around with my senior brothers and sisters here for a full year.
Training at Hwa-yeon Hall was divided into half-shichen blocks.
For half a shichen, we practiced basic forms; for another half, we trained stances to strengthen the body; and during whatever time remained until noon, we sparred.
Even disciples who spent a year at Hwa-yeon Hall grew sick of the stance training that came after basic forms.
Among them, there were often third-generation disciples whose stamina was too lacking to keep up with the training, though…
“Is the stance work too hard? You should still be able to hold on longer.”
“I can hold on!”
“Good. Keep it up.”
The instructors at Hwa-yeon Hall were all the kind of men who had become experts at grinding people down to the edge of ruin.
The sounds of disciples straightening their stances under the instructors’ gaze and groaning from the strain echoed all around me.
I, too, had a body that had not yet fully matured, and sweat poured off me like rain, but I gritted my teeth and endured.
If I was diligent, this body would become one well suited for martial arts.
“Yoo Sung-woon. You were lying in a sickbed until a few days ago, so you should rest for now. Let’s slowly raise the intensity over time.”
“I’m fine, Disciple. I’d like to keep going.”
“...You would? Very well, then. But if it feels excessive, rest immediately. A martial artist’s body is his greatest wealth.”
“Thank you for your concern.”
While holding the stance, I had nothing to do, so I glanced around.
All the third-generation disciples are gathered here.
For now, they were only waving wooden swords and fists through the air, but in the future they would grow into martial artists bearing the Mount Hua name.
If I built deeper bonds with them and occasionally offered advice from the side, they would become far stronger than they had been before my regression.
And if I also became close with the talents who would one day become the elite Plum Blossom Swordsmen of Mount Hua, so much the better.
They did not stand out now, but soon they would blossom into their talents.
Those who had the talent to achieve greatness, but would eventually fall behind because they relied too much on talent and neglected effort.
Those who might be considered dull or mediocre, but who could still become strong if only they did not neglect their training.
I had deep ties with all of them from my previous life as the Sect Leader’s disciple.
So I knew their talents, their efforts, and their attitudes toward martial arts inside and out.
My own strength mattered, but so did the strength of the sect.
Unless one had a thousand hands like a Buddha, no single person could do the work of a thousand.
When the Blood Sky Demon Sect invaded Hwaum County, the ones who had drawn their swords to the very end to protect the sect and the people of Hwaum County were…
These young martial artists here, after all.
As I thought about how to approach them first, I ended up taking my rest about one geun earlier than everyone else.
After finishing the leg-burning training that made my thighs tremble, I realized sweat was streaming down my jawline like rain.
Even resting normally felt awkward, so I practiced Plum Blossom Qi Gong.
Once the stance training ended, Instructor Gwon shouted, “Rest for one jeok while circulating Plum Blossom Qi Gong!”
At his words, the third-generation disciples all sat in meditation and used their breathing to soothe their weary bodies.
They might have been tired enough to grumble, but smiles still hung at the corners of their mouths.
As soon as the third-generation disciples finished their breathing exercises, they sat in a wide circle along the edges of the training ground, as if they had been waiting for it.
Every one of them looked full of anticipation.
To be honest, children liked sparring or watching others spar far more than they liked waving wooden swords or fists through empty air, or grinding through boring stance work.
After a year, they could stop coming to Hwa-yeon Hall if they wanted, but the reason the third-generation disciples kept coming so faithfully was because of this.
It was the sparring time before noon that everyone had been waiting for.
“From now on, we’ll begin sparring. The disciples who signed up yesterday should step forward, and anyone who wishes to challenge them may come out. If no one challenges them, the instructor will assign an opponent at random. The disciples I call should come to the center.”
Instructor Gwon calmly swept his gaze over the disciples seated around the ring before speaking again.
“Seo Jin-ah. Come out.”
At his call, the female disciple stepped onto the platform with her wooden sword in hand.
One after another, the disciples who wanted to spar with her followed after.
As I watched the sparring that began moments later, someone plopped down heavily beside me.
“You’re Yoo Sung-woon, right? Nice to meet you. You entered eight days ago?”
A broad-faced male disciple addressed me with easy familiarity. I had to remember the names of many young disciples all over again, but this one I recognized immediately.
“Senior Brother Jung Nam-jung?”
Jung Nam-jung, having his name called, asked me in surprise, “Did I ever tell you my name?”
“Ah… I overheard the senior brothers talking earlier. Sorry if that was rude.”
“No, no! I was going to tell you anyway, so there’s nothing to apologize for.”
He flashed a warm, easygoing smile.
Jung Nam-jung, and Seo Jin-ah sparring right now on the training platform.
Those two had been especially close to me before my regression.
The Plum Blossom Swordsmen of the future.
Among the third-generation disciples, they stood out in particular.
“Is your first training session at Hwa-yeon Hall uncomfortable at all?”
“The instructors have been considerate in many ways, so it hasn’t been hard.”
“That’s a relief. Once training’s over, I’ll introduce you to the other senior brothers and sisters. Since it’s been a month since a new disciple joined, the others are curious about you too.”
“Thank you, Senior Brother.”
Jung Nam-jung and Seo Jin-ah had the highest seniority among the third-generation disciples. They were both twelve years old, making them the oldest as well.
Maybe that was why they had long since taken on the role of the elder siblings who kept the children in order.
More than that, they were both so easygoing and unsharp-edged that no one disliked them, whether above or below them in rank.
“Sparring finished. Seo Jin-ah wins!”
Just then, the sparring came to an end.
Seo Jin-ah slung her wooden sword over her shoulder and climbed down from the platform, then walked straight over to us without the slightest hesitation.
“Jung Nam-jung. Stop picking on the kid.”
“Picking on him? I’m being considerate.”
Jung Nam-jung was sitting to my left, so Seo Jin-ah sat down on my right.
“What were you doing?”
“I was going to tell my junior brother about Mount Hua Sect, but you interrupted me.”
“Interrupted you? It’d be much easier to understand if we explained it together. ...You’re called Sung-woon, right? Am I right?”
“That’s right. Senior Sister is Seo Jin-ah, yes?”
“How did you know?”
“I heard Instructor Gwon call your name earlier.”
Seo Jin-ah grinned broadly and asked me all kinds of things.
What I had done before joining Mount Hua Sect, where I had come from, and how I had passed Mount Hua’s entrance trial were the main questions.
I spent the time answering every question carefully. In the process, I learned that the two of them were quite interested in my entrance story.
Apparently, the fact that I had climbed Mount Hua in rough weather to enter the sect struck them as rather unusual.
It wasn’t until I’d finally loosened up a little that we reached the last sparring match. Instructor Gwon looked toward one section of the disciples seated in a ring and said, “Jo Gyeong-hun, come out.”
“Yes, sir!”
One of the male disciples who had been gathering in a group on one side answered energetically.
Watching his back as he strode boldly into the center of the platform, Jung Nam-jung explained his background to me.
“Sung-woon. He’s a disciple who entered a month before you did.”
“Up until you arrived, he was the youngest among the third-generation disciples.”
A month.
It was the time when he had only just formed his dantian and made some progress in his basic forms.
It was also the sort of period when the awareness of becoming a martial artist starts to swell with baseless confidence, so it made sense that he had signed up for sparring.
And now he’s about to get thoroughly crushed.
The senior brothers who had trained for months and years were much stronger than he was.
The third-generation disciples learn humility here by getting thoroughly beaten before they even have time to celebrate becoming martial artists.
“No one?”
Perhaps because of that, no one stepped forward to face Jo Gyeong-hun.
It felt a little like bullying a younger junior for no reason, and there wasn’t much to gain from the sparring anyway.
Jo Gyeong-hun wore a smug expression, clearly thinking that even the senior brothers were reluctant to spar with him because he was so skilled.
Seo Jin-ah glanced at Jung Nam-jung.
“You going?”
“I’m thinking about it. I haven’t sparred today because I was talking with you.”
The moment Jung Nam-jung finished speaking, Instructor Gwon continued.
“In that case, I’ll select someone at random from among the disciples who did not sign up for sparring—”
I suddenly raised my hand.
“I’ll do it.”