Nostalgia (1)

The uninvited guests who had appeared at the Crimson Ring Sect withdrew in as orderly a fashion as they had arrived. Eleven days had passed since Sannyeo had luckily found a cave and whiled away the time inside. Spotting the martial artists filing out of the main gate in neat formation, Sannyeo slipped into the Crimson Ring Sect compound before they could even clear ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the village.

"Ah, you're back. I missed this place."

Sannyeo had grumbled about the word "back," but at this very moment, she was genuinely glad to be at the Crimson Ring Sect, and it truly felt like a homecoming.

Even martial artists loathed sleeping rough. For Sannyeo, whose hands were still bound, camping out had been one ordeal after another. Seon-go, who had been sitting on the wooden floor reading a book, looked up as Sannyeo suddenly flew in and spoke.

"Ah, you've come? I was just about to call for you."

"I've been keeping watch. Waiting to see when those bastards would leave. But where did those fellows come from? Their uniforms and their martial arts both seemed a bit unfamiliar."

At Sannyeo's question, Seon-go shrugged. If Sannyeo couldn't recognize their martial arts, there was no way Seon-go would know either.

"Who knows? I only heard that they came temporarily after receiving word from the Zhuge Family side, and they never said which group they belonged to."

"There's no way the Zhuge Family has that many men trained like that. It's strange. Even when they left, they walked out in perfect formation, step by step. Like soldiers."

"Couldn't they be some small or mid-sized sect we've never heard of, with strict discipline, drilled as precisely as a blade?"

Sannyeo tilted her head at those words. Seon-go seemed to have fallen deeper into thought, mulling over her own speculation. The way she held her brush upright against her chin and sank into contemplation made her look like a scholar consumed by academic passion. Sannyeo asked.

"What are you thinking about so hard? Are you that curious about who those sect fellows are?"

"Hm? No. I'm not particularly curious. It's not like knowing would change anything."

Seon-go shook her head stubbornly. But Sannyeo could tell that Seon-go was harboring some worry. Seon-go, who had spent much time alone in her room, was surprisingly expressive with her emotions.

"Still, you've definitely got the look of someone thinking hard about something."

"Ah, well...."

When Sannyeo pressed her, Seon-go hesitated and fidgeted with her brush, rolling it between her fingers. Sannyeo walked slowly across the courtyard, giving her time to think. Her footsteps, jeobeok-jeobeok, echoed like the ticking of a clock's second hand.

"...After watching them train, I started wondering if I ought to learn some martial arts too."

Seon-go stretched her hand into the air, repeatedly clenching and unclenching her fingers. Sannyeo felt that Seon-go's question was somewhat unexpected.

"That's unexpected. I thought you'd had your fill of martial arts."

Sannyeo tried not to let her gaze drift toward Seon-go's legs as she spoke. But at those words, Seon-go subtly covered her ankle and smiled bitterly. The reason she, the sect leader's daughter, had never properly learned martial arts—the sect leader was mostly to blame.

"That man is gone now. And my husband is going to become someone who commands the world under heaven. What would people say if his wife didn't know how to do anything? I'd like to learn at least a little, so people will say, 'Ah, even the wife of the greatest under heaven knows how to use martial arts!'"

"...You're painting quite the grand picture, aren't you?"

Sannyeo's eyes went round as she spoke. Half of it was a teasing tone, but half of her was genuinely surprised. Because it meant she seriously believed in Docheol's absurd and grandiose dream. Seon-go nodded and said.

"Of course. My husband fought against the Murim Alliance and won, so naturally I believe in him."

Sannyeo wore a subtle expression at Seon-go's words. After gazing at Seon-go for a moment, Sannyeo nodded and said.

"There's still a long way to go, but there's nothing wrong with sending your faith from now."

Seon-go flushed at Sannyeo's words. She, who had been smiling as bright and innocent as a child, cautiously glanced around before speaking.

"Um, Sannyeo-ssi. So about that... do you think you could teach me martial arts?"

Sannyeo looked even more surprised at Seon-go's proposal. She opened her eyes wide like ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a mountain bird and tilted her head.

"Martial arts? I could teach you, but you won't be able to use it properly. Because you can't walk."

This time, Sannyeo resolutely lowered her gaze. As she stared pointedly at her legs, Seon-go stroked her own ankle and said.

"But in tales of heroic exploits, they say there are people who subdue opponents even while seated."

Sannyeo shook her head and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠answered immediately.

"That's only possible if your opponent is at least two tiers below you. Even against someone a tier below you rather than near your own level, you couldn't win while seated. And what you're mistaken about is—those people already have their fundamentals built, so they can spar even in extremely unstable stances. If you learn martial arts in an unstable posture, you can't build your basics, and someone without solid basics can't raise their level."

"That may be true, but...."

Seon-go's expression grew dejected. Seeing her sitting there gloomily, staring at the desk, Sannyeo didn't feel good about it either. After all, she too had been a sect leader's daughter once, someone who had learned martial arts before.

Even if only traces of that training remained now, she understood the importance of the lower body better than anyone.

But even Sannyeo wasn't someone who could do everything. A person who couldn't walk couldn't move, and if they couldn't move, they couldn't seize an advantageous position, nor could they maintain balance. How could such a person learn martial arts?

"Give it up, Seon-go. Alright? If an opponent simply creates distance, you can't do anything. Because you can't move. I could teach you some simple self-defense techniques, but serious martial arts training won't be of much help to you."

Seon-go raised her head. When she suddenly looked at her, Sannyeo subtly averted her eyes. No matter how much she'd meant it as advice to help her let go, she inwardly wondered if she'd been too harsh. Sannyeo looked elsewhere as she spoke.

"...I'm not demeaning you, but...."

"So if I just need to be able to move while seated, that would do, right?"

Sannyeo turned her face back at Seon-go's question. Seon-go's eyes were sparkling, and she was simply waiting for her to answer "yes."

In truth, there were many reasons the lower body was important beyond just movement, but Sannyeo had grown a little curious about what Seon-go was thinking.

*********

"What's this grave?"

On the way back, I discovered a grave standing by the roadside. It was the grave of a nameless man, untended and overgrown with weeds. An old man passing by at that moment answered my question.

"A man the Crimson Ring Sect Leader killed."

"The Crimson Ring Sect Leader did?"

The only ones I'd killed were members of the Crimson Ring Sect. There was no way the village would have buried those bastards so nicely, so—someone killed before I arrived?

"What happened to him?"

"I heard he fell in love with the sect leader's daughter and was found out, and got killed for it."

"Ah, what a shame. If it had been me, I would've just sent him far away."

To kill a man just for harboring feelings, without him even taking any action—that sect leader bastard truly wasn't human. It was genuinely a relief that I'd rescued Seon-go from the hands of such a beast. The old man nodded at my words and said.

"That's what I'm saying. The current sect leader is a real good man, they say. Just had bad luck."

It was truly a pitiable thing. If he'd met me, he could have lived on, studying in some distant province without dying—but he'd met that foul-tempered sect leader and met such a miserable end. I bought a bottle of liquor from the village and poured it over the grave as I spoke.

"Rest in peace. You met a bad man and died for it."

I tucked away the remaining liquor to wet my throat on the way back.

"Now this is what they call a triumphant return."

I'd grasped the profound principle of Taijiquan, acquired one more beautiful woman, and in the distant future I could even aim for collaboration with the Taiji Sect. On top of that, I had a bottle of liquor in one hand and the weather was fine—if this wasn't a triumphant return, what was it?

I took a swig of liquor, using the farmers working in the fields as my drinking snack. One of the farmers recognized me and waved.

"Aigo, Sect Leader! It's been a while!"

"Keep up the hard work! Nothing unusual happening?"

"Aigo, well, nothing unusual. Some men came swarming in all of a sudden last time, and today they all vanished. From what I hear, they were all disciples of yours, Sect Leader—to already have disciples like that, you're truly remarkable!"

"You flatter me. Well then, work hard."

They weren't my disciples and I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠didn't even know their faces, but since they were praising me, I decided to accept it. From the explanation, it seemed the fellows sent by the Zhuge Family had already vacated the sect. I'd meant to ask what group they belonged to if I met them, so it was a bit of a shame.

"Haap! Hat!"

As I approached the sect compound, a woman's spirited shouts rang out.

"Yaap! Yat!"

The resonant voice was unfamiliar in its pitch, making me ponder for a moment, but it was unmistakably Seon-go.

"Your stance is wrong. You need to do it like this."

"Yap! Hat!"

Sannyeo's voice followed right after. I couldn't help but tilt my head. Judging by the sounds, the two of them were doing martial arts training or some kind of exercise—but Seon-go?

In the courtyard?

I was curious.

I couldn't contain my curiosity.

Instead of calling out that I'd arrived, I flung the door open.

"Now then, next!"

"Haat...! Ah, you! You're back?"

And what I saw before me.

Seon-go, seated in a chair with wheels, throwing punches at the air, and Sannyeo wearing a strangely delighted expression.

...What the hell?