Why Is That Man Here? (2)
The sky was clear, not a single cloud in sight.
A gentle smile touched Baek Cheon’s face.
“This is nice.”
“It really is.”
Yoon Jong and Jo Gul, lying beside him, wore the satisfied expressions of cats with full bellies as they gazed up at the sky.
An unblemished blue expanse. Cool wind drifting across their faces. And, carried on that wind, the faint fragrance of plum blossoms.
Everything was perfect.
“So this is why they say it’s a pain to leave home,” Jo Gul muttered. “I couldn’t even think about looking up at the sky until we got back to Mount Hua.”
“Yes, exactly. Not until we returned to Mount Hua did I realize how much I’d missed this.”
Of course, that was mostly because of Chung Myung, but still.
In any case, after such a long journey, simply coming back to Mount Hua and allowing themselves to rest like this felt unbearably pleasant.
But Yoon Jong went and ruined the mood.
“...It would have been perfect if the Sect Leader hadn’t collapsed and gone to bed.”
“...”
At once, a synchronized sigh escaped all three of them.
After hearing a full explanation about the Heavenly Alliance, Hyun Jong had quite literally lain down and refused to get up.
Let’s just leave out the part where Chung Myung said, “Why are you acting like that when I brought back such good news?” and nearly got whacked with a cane...
“If the wall hadn’t collapsed, it wouldn’t have looked so pitiful,” Baek Cheon said.
“...Right. He should at least have switched rooms.”
Watching him lie down in a room where the wall had caved in and the wind blew straight through made them feel like tears might spill out of their eyes. Baek Cheon and Yoon Jong had hurriedly brought cloth and temporarily blocked the opening, but still.
“Was it really something to collapse over, though?” Jo Gul tilted his head, unable to understand. Baek Cheon let out a long breath.
“He’s already got enough trouble with Mount Hua alone. Now you expect him to take on even more?”
“Mount Hua’s trouble is because of Chung Myung, though.”
“There’s a Chung Myung in the alliance too.”
“...I hadn’t considered that.”
Baek Cheon shook his head.
“And even if he had wanted to go to Xi'an, there’s a difference between walking there with your own two feet and getting swept there by a typhoon.”
“...I understand.”
And besides, the real problem was that Hyun Jong hadn’t even wanted to go to Xi'an in the first place.
“Anyway, uh...”
Clunk!
“Now that we’re back at Mount Hua, make sure you internalize what you saw and felt on this trip. And the sword training you neglected all this time should start again—”
“Grrrrrrr!”
Clunk! Clunk!
Baek Cheon frowned and pushed himself up.
“The speed’s dropping because the cart is shaking! Can’t you run properly?”
“Grrr... S-sasuk, this thing is way too heavy!”
“What kind of cart is made out of a block of iron...?”
The place they’d been lying on was the same iron cart Chung Myung had used for the entire journey. The three who had gotten to their feet looked at the Mount Hua disciples pulling it.
“I can see your feet, you know? Your feet! Feet!”
“I dragged this all the way to Sichuan and back!”
At those merciless words, the Mount Hua disciples hauling the cart drenched in sweat ground their teeth in secret.
We didn’t ask for this!
Why are you taking it out on us just because Chung Myung beat you up!
In the center of the training ground, other disciples lay sprawled with their tongues hanging out. They were the ones who had already taken a turn pulling the cart. Flat on the ground, gasping for breath, some of them looked as though they’d simply fainted.
Then Jo Gul’s cheerful voice rang out.
“I’ve done it myself, so I know this is seriously a great training method. We can’t let me have all the fun, right?”
“You little bastard—”
“Hm?”
“Ah, n-no, nothing.”
Swallowing their outrage, the disciples grabbed the cart and pulled with all their might once more.
Baek Cheon looked down at them, his eyes glinting faintly.
Sasuk must have suffered a lot.
The fact that they could still shout while dragging that heavy cart at full speed meant their basic stamina had improved far more than before he’d left for Sichuan.
“Not like a wet rag—no matter how much you wring it out, if you keep squeezing, another drop still comes out.”
That was probably exactly how Chung Myung felt when he bullied them.
I hate that I understand this.
Baek Cheon clicked his tongue and barked, “Run faster! Faster! Keep running until you can’t feel your legs, then run some more!”
“Grrrrrr!”
“Aaaaaah!”
The Mount Hua disciples foamed at the mouth as they dragged the cart and sprinted at breakneck speed.
And a moment later—
“Aaagh!”
“I can’t... I can’t pull anymore...”
One by one, the disciples hauling the cart toppled over, and at last it came to a stop.
Baek Cheon clicked his tongue and climbed down from the cart.
“All of you, attention!”
“Attention!”
The exhausted disciples groaned as they forced themselves upright. Then, somehow, they managed to line up and focus on Baek Cheon.
“Do you like your swords?”
“Yes, Senior Brother!”
“They’re the best, Sasuk!”
At the mention of swords, everyone straightened their backs. Even then, their eyes kept slipping down toward the Ten Thousand Year Cold Iron swords hanging at their waists.
To think I’d receive something like this.
Never mind everything else, this really is the best.
A sword forged from Ten Thousand Year Cold Iron was the sort of divine weapon that even in Wudang, famed for its wealth and standing, only elder-level figures might ever hope to touch. For such swords to be handed to ordinary disciples was an unprecedented thing.
“The value of these swords is greater than you think. Never forget the grace of the sect and the Sect Leader who bestowed them upon you.”
“Yes, Sasuk!”
Every face was lit with excitement.
Watching them, Baek Cheon smiled in satisfaction.
“However, there is one small problem...”
“...Yes?”
“Those swords.”
He flicked his chin toward the Ten Thousand Year Cold Iron swords.
“They’re expensive.”
“...”
At that, the disciples startled and looked down at their swords. Then, as if finally understanding, they nodded heavily.
Well, of course they’re expensive.
Ridiculously expensive. It’s Ten Thousand Year Cold Iron.
Seeing that they understood, Baek Cheon nodded emphatically.
“Exactly. Yes. They’re very expensive. But think about it. From now on, you’ll be taking those swords out into the jianghu, and what happens if one of them gets taken from you?”
“...We’re finished.”
“No, no. Don’t think about it so simply. Think about what happens the moment you come back after losing one.”
“...”
For a moment, the Mount Hua disciples fell silent, then their faces drained of color.
The idea alone was so horrifying that they shuddered.
Forget Chung Myung. This isn’t about him.
Hyun Young Elder will kill us.
That was an unbearable future.
“Do you understand what I mean?”
“...Yes.”
It was a reply from the heart. Baek Cheon nodded.
“There’s an old saying in the jianghu: treasure has its rightful owner. Even if you happen to acquire some treasure by luck, if you don’t have the strength to protect it, then it was never really yours. In other words...”
Baek Cheon swept the disciples with a cold look.
“If you want to use those swords, you need to become swordsmen worthy of them.”
The disciples’ eyes sharpened. It was an entirely proper argument, the kind they had forgotten in their excitement.
“So stop whining and work hard. You have to prove that you deserve to be the rightful owners of those swords. Understood?”
“Yes!”
“Good. Next group.”
“...”
Several people drooped their heads helplessly and trudged toward the cart.
Then Yoon Jong asked Baek Cheon, “By the way, Sasuk.”
“Hm?”
“Where did Baek Sang Sasuk go? I haven’t seen him for a while.”
“Ah, Baek Sang? I sent him to Hwayeom for a bit.”
“What? Hwayeom? Why all of a sudden?”
“We’re short-handed.”
“Pardon?”
Baek Cheon gestured toward the iron cart.
“This.”
“...”
“There are too many kids for just one cart, so I asked him to have a few more made. While he was at it, I also had him arrange for carts that can be pulled up the mountain.”
“...”
“Hahaha. The kids’ lower bodies are going to get very, very solid.”
Yoon Jong looked at Baek Cheon with trembling eyes.
Sasuk.
How far are you planning to go?
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
“How’s your body feeling?”
“I’m used to it now.”
Un Geom smiled faintly and handed Chung Myung a cup of tea.
Only his left hand was usable, but the motion of brewing and pouring the tea looked surprisingly practiced.
“It doesn’t bother you?” Chung Myung asked.
Un Geom answered with a calm smile.
“If one thinks about it, everything in this world is inconvenient.”
“...”
“People cannot fly like birds or swim like fish. We cannot run like horses, nor climb trees like monkeys. Is that not all inconvenient?”
Chung Myung nodded as if in agreement.
“It’s the same here. Some people can use both arms, while I simply have to use one now. The inconvenience has grown a little, yes, but it is only a small change.”
Un Geom’s voice carried a quiet depth.
“To follow the Dao and walk the path of martial arts means recognizing such differences and doing one’s utmost in whatever situation one faces. What great problem is there in being a little more inconvenienced than before? One simply has to try a little harder.”
In truth, Chung Myung had never much liked speeches like that.
Though he had spent his entire life as a Taoist, there were times when words about the Dao felt like chasing clouds.
But he had never once thought of talking back to Chung Mun, despite the fact that Chung Mun had been someone he could never have beaten in a fight, and the reason he respected Un Geom was because they both put such cloud-chasing words into practice with their own bodies.
Chung Myung looked at Un Geom’s left forearm. In the short time since, it had already become more solid and sturdy. Even hidden beneath his sleeve, the change was obvious.
“Give me that.”
“Yes.”
Chung Myung handed over the Ten Thousand Year Cold Iron sword he’d brought. He had carried it here for Un Geom.
Un Geom slowly drew the sword with one hand and gazed at its white blade.
“A fine sword.”
A smile appeared at his lips.
“A very fine sword. Sharp and strong.”
Then he looked at Chung Myung quietly.
“Chung Myung.”
“Yes, Hall Leader.”
“You really are doing well.”
“...”
Chung Myung closed his mouth.
It was because the look Un Geom gave him stirred something strange inside him.
“This sword isn’t for you, is it? It’s for the children of Mount Hua who can’t keep up with you. Isn’t that right?”
Chung Myung scratched the back of his head, a little embarrassed.
“Well, it’s not that grand.”
But Un Geom smiled as though he could see straight through him.
“Doesn’t it feel frustrating, being able to race ahead alone while still having to lead the children?”
“...Hmm.”
Chung Myung thought for a moment with a faintly odd expression, then looked Un Geom straight in the eye.
He had plenty of excuses he could have tossed out, but he didn’t feel like doing that now.
“Honestly? At first, it was insanely frustrating.”
Chung Myung turned his head and looked toward the window. He couldn’t see it from here, but by now Baek Cheon and the other senior disciples were probably training the Mount Hua disciples, or maybe focusing on their own practice.
“But these days it’s fine. The Sasuk and Senior Brothers are all working hard, so...”
“Is that so?”
“Yeah. These days, there are even times when I can’t handle it.”
“...That certainly sounds like an extraordinary thing to say.”
Un Geom laughed lightly, speaking as if teasing him.
There had been so many things he hadn’t seen when he lived only for the sword. It was only after he had come back from the edge of death and set everything aside that they had begun to come into view.
“Chung Myung.”
“Yes, Hall Leader.”
“Then there’s no need to rush, is there?”
“...”
“We’ve returned to Mount Hua, so rest a little. A horse that keeps running without pause will eventually collapse. And once that happens, it can no longer run as it once did.”
Chung Myung stared at Un Geom for a moment, then gave a quiet nod.
“I will.”
“Good.”
Seeing Un Geom look at him with such warm satisfaction, Chung Myung scratched his head, a little awkward.
He feels more like the adult here.
And age-wise, it wasn’t even close. Was this why Sect Brother had always told him to grow up?
“How’s your left-hand sword going?”
“I haven’t started yet.”
“Hm? Why not?”
Un Geom answered calmly.
“Just as you said, I taught the children their foundations and helped build their lower bodies strong. But wouldn’t it be strange if I spent all my time teaching them and then only practiced swordsmanship myself?”
“Ah...”
“So first, I am rebuilding my own body as well. Until my roots are truly firm. In fact, now that I can already see some results, I was just about to begin.”
Un Geom looked at Chung Myung and said,
“How about it? Will you help me a little?”
“If you do it with me, it’ll be rough on you.”
“Hahaha. I spent all this time tormenting the children, so I should be tormented in return.”
“If you’re ready for that, I can help all you want!”
“Good. Then let me receive instruction from my grand-disciple.”
“I’m just helping you out. It’s not like I’m teaching you anything grand.”
“Same thing, you little brat.”
Un Geom laughed and messed up Chung Myung’s hair with his remaining hand.
And that day, from the training ground behind Baekmae Hall, the sound of swords cutting through the wind never ceased, not even as dawn deepened.