Four Ounces Deflects a Thousand Pounds (6)
Four Ounces Deflects a Thousand Pounds (6)
"Once again, I place myself in your capable hands."
"Ah, yes... please take good care of me, too."
Another few days slipped by. More and more, Hong Ye cast awkward glances my way. I pretended not to notice and devoted myself entirely to practicing Taijiquan.
Four ounces deflects a thousand pounds.
Commanding a vast force with a small one was no miracle. It meant seizing a single stream of energy, bending it, and twisting it until it became my own current.
A single small motion did not end as a small motion. Small motions set off chain reactions, building upon each other like a growing snowball, until they gave rise to a colossal flow that a mortal body could never withstand.
Whether you manipulated that flow, or whether you swallowed it whole.
Whether you could, with a force of mere ounces, fully command a force of a thousand pounds.
"Um...."
I heard Hong Ye's voice. When I turned my head, her face was as expressionless as ever, but her tone was hesitant.
"...Ah, never mind."
The conversation cut off. But it was a good sign.
Since that one trip to the marketplace, the emotional distance between us had closed quickly. Now, even when she demonstrated forms, she drew a little nearer. When she wanted to speak, she made a point of walking up to me. Just now, she had taken two steps closer than usual before parting her lips.
I stopped practicing my stance and looked directly at her.
Hong Ye couldn't meet my gaze. She fidgeted with her fingers, as innocent as a country girl newly aware of her own feelings.
".....What is it?"
She asked the moment our eyes met.
"Isn't there something you wish to say?"
At my question, she straightened her back with an awkward look, blinked, and glanced away. Then she swept her hair back, met my eyes again, and spoke.
"....I was just... curious if your stance practice was going well."
I nodded. It was going so well that I felt I would soon grasp the fundamentals of Taijiquan—not because I was a prodigy, but because the very contours of my life had been moving in accordance with Taijiquan's principles all along.
"I could even show you. It feels as though my progress has been smooth lately. I'm in a fine mood."
Hong Ye nodded at my words. Her expression kept twitching, but I could see her trying hard not to smile. I said to her,
"You may smile. After all, it is just the two of us here."
"Two... two...."
At those words, Hong Ye visibly panicked. Though it didn't fully show on her face, her blinking and the way she shook her head from side to side made it clear she was thoroughly flustered. She steadied her breathing for a moment, then placed a hand over her chest and closed her eyes.
Only after drawing a deep breath did she part her lips.
"Even so, here, we are master and disciple. I cannot engage in such frivolous behavior."
"Your smiling face is so beautiful—why do you keep your expression so rigid?"
Hong Ye turned her head. I saw her cheeks puff out slightly and then deflate. She seemed to be fighting desperately to keep the corners of her mouth from rising. She whipped her head back around as if performing a dramatic mask change, holding her expression blank. But I could see that her ears had flushed red.
I smiled as I watched her, and Hong Ye, growing self-conscious at my expression, touched her own ear and blushed even more deeply.
******
Four ounces deflects a thousand pounds.
If there was one thing as unfathomable as that single phrase the Grandmaster left behind, it was the human heart.
Hong Ye could not understand the Grandmaster, but she understood all too well what he meant when he said that martial arts were easier to comprehend than people.
Even as her feelings for Docheol slowly grew, she wrestled with a persistent anxiety because she could not read his heart.
[You may smile. After all, it is just the two of us here.]
Were those words sincere? Did he truly mean them?
[Your smiling face is so beautiful—why do you keep your expression so rigid?]
Were those words sincere? Did he not, in fact, find her displeasing because she was of Southern Barbarian blood? Was he saying such things only out of politeness because they were currently master and disciple? Would he laugh at her naivety and awkwardness elsewhere?
Her intuition told her he was not that kind of man.
But just as one can never feel at ease until they try the handle themselves—even after being told a door is locked—she could not easily open her heart, even as she trusted her intuition, and she was drawn to him all the same. Unable to glimpse his inner self, Hong Ye could not easily speak her mind.
"I have a question for Great Hero Docheol!"
Wandering aimlessly down the corridor, Hong Ye spun around in shock at the sound of the presumptuous junior martial sister's voice. On the other side of the wall, Docheol and her junior martial sister were deep in conversation, their eyes locked. The junior martial sister stared at Docheol with bright, feline eyes, and Docheol regarded her with a deeply amused gaze as he spoke.
"What is it that you are so curious about?"
"Does Great Hero like women of the Southern Barbarians?"
Hong Ye jumped in alarm and nearly rushed out to intervene, but at the same time, she found a part of herself burning with curiosity for the answer. Even as she felt she should scold this rude the junior martial sister, her feet refused to move, wondering what Docheol would say.
From her hidden vantage point, she saw Docheol smile, his face softly crinkling.
What could the meaning of that smile be?
Was it a smile of displeasure at being associated with Southern Barbarian people? Or was it the expression of someone carefully considering the question? Hong Ye's heart pounded. The frantic, thunderous rhythm startled even her.
With her eyes wide, Hong Ye clutched her chest. Docheol spoke.
"I do not understand what you are trying to imply. What is the intention behind Miss's question?"
The junior martial sister glanced around, then twisted a lock of her hair and put on a coquettish expression. Such a blatant gesture would have been more fitting in some pleasure house than in the Taiji Sect.
"It was mere curiosity. Hong Ye is my senior martial sister, and being of Southern Barbarian origin, is she not a bit... different in many ways? Her skin color, and... well, in various respects. So, I was simply curious whether Great Hero had perhaps taken a liking to Miss Hong Ye... and if so, what the reason might be."
The junior martial sister was carefully trying to draw an answer out of Docheol while gauging his reaction. The answer she wanted was one that would humiliate Hong Ye. Hong Ye found herself growing tense over such a worthless reply.
Right now, her body had gone as rigid as when she stood before the elders.
Part of her wanted to hear it, and part of her wanted to shut out Docheol's answer. As these contradictory feelings layered over one another, Hong Ye curled up, but she could not bring herself to cover her ears.
Several disciples standing in the distance were also feigning distraction while pricking up their ears to the exchange.
The junior martial sister smiled, her eyes glittering sharply.
Docheol simply watched her in silence for a moment, then parted his lips.
"What does her skin color have to do with anything?"
"Pardon?"
"I asked what her skin color has to do with anything."
"Ah, well, that is...."
The junior martial sister could not answer. She rolled her eyes, searching for an escape, and finally found a reply.
"I- I did not ask for any particular reason. It is just, you know, the skin color of the Southern Barbarians is rather conspicuous, is it not? I merely mentioned it as an example, wondering if that might have been a point of attraction."
"Is which part of her I felt attracted to such an important matter to you, Miss? Is Miss Hong Ye not your senior martial sister?"
"Oh, n-no, it is not important, but... I was simply curious...."
The junior martial sister began to fumble.
It was a question she had thrown out without much thought, assuming the elders' favor would shield her. But if anyone probed deeper, the junior martial sister's current behavior was deeply problematic. She had assumed Docheol, who was always so smooth, would simply let it pass. When he addressed it so firmly instead, the junior martial sister, too, seemed to grow uneasy.
Docheol looked around at the onlookers.
The sect disciples who had been whispering all stiffened up and, to a man, pretended to be busy elsewhere.
They found Docheol, who had the backing of the Zhuge Family, far more uncomfortable to deal with than Hong Ye.
Docheol thought the Taiji Sect, so plainly dominated by the logic of power, was truly bizarre. A group meant to control a greater force with a lesser one was instead being crushed by the greater force of the Zhuge Family, tiptoeing around in fear.
They were, in a word, perfect material for becoming dogs to power—
and would they not be so obedient if you kept them beneath you?
After sweeping his gaze around one more time, Docheol said nothing further and disappeared.
Only after Docheol had vanished did the junior martial sister lower her head, her face flushed bright red.
The sect disciples, as if nothing had just happened, subtly dispersed in different directions.
"Haa...."
And Hong Ye, who had been listening to the entire exchange from a distance, covered her mouth, unable to suppress the pounding of her heart.
[What does her skin color have to do with anything?]
This man. It had to be him.
[I asked what her skin color has to do with anything.]
If she were ever to marry someone, to tie a century-long bond of matrimony, it could only be this man.
Her family's standing, her own advancement—none of it mattered anymore.
She simply wanted Docheol to stand by her side and say these things to her.
That she was beautiful.
Just imagining Docheol saying those words, Hong Ye felt the corners of her lips curve upward.
And she felt her body flush with warmth.
Just as when she met a powerful master of the martial world, her whole body seemed to ring and tremble.
Hong Ye liked Docheol.
Her body was telling the truth.