The Lazy One Awakens
* * *
Seomun Hwan was sprawled lazily across his favorite napping platform again today.
Normally, the moment his head touched the surface he would drift off into sweet slumber, but today sleep refused to come.
He had too many worries on his mind.
“This is troublesome. Really troublesome.”
It had already been five days since his visit to the Black Dragon Gang’s stronghold.
Just in case, he had scattered his crows across Hubei, but no further suspicious movements had been detected.
That was fortunate, yet a new problem had arisen.
While observing through the crows, he had uncovered several unsettling movements.
Taken individually they seemed completely unrelated, but in Seomun Hwan’s eyes they formed a meticulously woven web of connections.
Could this be tied to those people?
Or was it the work of yet another group?
“This is exactly why being too smart is exhausting.”
If it were the Phantom Demon of his previous life, he could protect the Seomun Clan even if the sky itself came crashing down.
But with this frail body of Seomun Hwan, the things he could do were far too limited.
That was why he had no choice but to borrow the name of that Wudang brat and deceive them.
“If only I had inner qi, this would be simple.”
The martial prowess of the Phantom Demon from his past life could pierce the heavens and shake the earth.
Seomun Hwan still possessed every last bit of that enlightenment.
There was no need to swing a sword or step onto the battlefield to accumulate experience.
The only thing required to regain his former power was inner qi.
Unfortunately, gathering inner qi was an incredibly tedious process that demanded a vast amount of time.
Since his family ran a wealthy merchant house, he could consume spiritual medicines, but…
“The Hwanma Divine Art cannot accumulate qi through mere spiritual herbs.”
The internal cultivation method he had created himself in his previous life operated on an entirely different principle from ordinary martial arts.
Its concept was different. Its underlying logic existed on another dimension entirely.
Unfortunately, it had one clear drawback: because its operating mechanism was so unique, ordinary spiritual medicines were useless for accumulating qi.
“Which means the only option is to diligently practice the mental method.”
Even a thousand pearls are worthless unless they are strung together.
But the effort and time required would be enormous.
Even with the enlightenment from his previous life, he would need to stare at a wall for at least ten years or more just to build up his qi.
“Ugh! I’d rather die than do that! No way!”
He thrashed around on the platform like a child throwing a tantrum.
If getting up early in the morning was already torture, how could he possibly devote decades of his life to training?
“I don’t want to do anything. I want to do absolutely nothing, and I want to do it intensely.”
After lazing about on the platform for quite some time, Deokheum finally appeared.
“Young Master, isn’t it about time you got up? The sun is already high in the sky. You said you would start waking earlier these days, yet here you still are, lying around like this?”
“Deokheum. Don’t misunderstand. I’m lying here pondering the fundamental principles of the universe.”
“…Of course you are, Young Master.”
It was then that a heavy rumble echoed from one corner of the clan’s residence.
Thud!
At the sound that shook the ground, Seomun Hwan rolled over and asked,
“What on earth is that noise? I’ve been hearing it for days now.”
“Ah, that sound? It’s Second Young Master training.”
“Training?”
“Yes. Tomorrow, the guest cultivator, Master Hyungeom, returns to Wudang. So I hear Second Young Master plans to demonstrate everything he’s learned in front of him.”
“So that’s why he’s working so hard?”
Second brother Seomun Jang-cheon had become a secular disciple of Wudang.
It wasn’t due to any special connection; the clan simply donated a large sum to Wudang every year, so they had accepted him as a disciple.
From Wudang’s perspective, a secular disciple carried little burden compared to a named inner disciple.
Still, they had to maintain appearances, so they occasionally sent a high-level expert to offer guidance.
To Seomun Hwan it seemed like a trivial matter, but it appeared Seomun Jang-cheon wanted to leave a strong impression on Master Hyungeom.
That was why he had thrown himself into training day and night.
“Everyone’s working so diligently.”
He was about to flop back down and try to sleep again when a thought suddenly occurred to him.
“It wouldn’t be bad if Second Brother got stronger.”
The winds blowing through Hubei were far from calm.
They had gotten through this incident without major trouble, but there was no telling how long their luck would last.
The family needed someone reliable to protect it.
But did that someone have to be him?
“If I can raise him to the Transcendent realm, he should be able to guard the house on his own.”
Reaching the Transcendent realm—one step above the Superlative—would place him at the level of an elder or even a sect leader within the Nine Sects and One Gang.
For a mere merchant family, not even one of the Five Great Noble Families, producing such a powerhouse was normally unimaginable.
Yet Seomun Hwan spoke of it as if it were nothing.
“What’s the point of having brothers if not to help each other out?”
Finally, Seomun Hwan hauled his heavy backside up from the platform.
* * *
The clan leader’s second son, Seomun Jang-cheon, stood in the small training ground behind the residence.
A long sword rested in his grip, and beads of sweat glistened on his forehead.
He was practicing a new technique from the Taiji Flowing Cloud Sword that Master Hyungeom of Wudang had taught him.
“Haaap!”
Swish! Swish!
The sword moved smoothly, drawing elegant arcs, yet something felt off.
There was flow, but no principle behind it.
Again. And again. He repeated the form dozens of times, but there was no progress.
Eventually, Seomun Jang-cheon lowered his sword and let out a deep sigh.
“As expected… this realm is still beyond my reach.”
In Hubei he was considered quite talented and had even been called a genius, but no one knew his limits better than he did.
The world of martial artists was vast, and there were countless geniuses far superior to him.
Master Hyungeom had encouraged him, saying, “You are fully capable of mastering this,” but those words only weighed heavier on his shoulders.
“This won’t do. I can’t show the master anything worthwhile tomorrow.”
He had known Wudang would send someone.
The clan donated a considerable amount each year, so they usually sent an instructor once every two years.
But he had never imagined that the visitor would be Master Hyungeom himself.
Wasn’t Master Hyungeom a true martial artist renowned throughout the murim for his bright personality, burning sense of justice, and outstanding martial prowess?
When Seomun Jang-cheon had first taken up the sword, he had heard stories of how Master Hyungeom had wiped out a band of bandits and saved countless lives.
He was a genuine hero the young Jang-cheon had idolized since childhood.
And now that hero had come to evaluate his swordsmanship.
How could he not be excited?
He desperately wanted to leave a good impression on Master Hyungeom.
“At this rate, I’ll only show him a pathetic sight tomorrow.”
His passion far outstripped what his body could deliver.
Seomun Jang-cheon lamented his inadequate talent.
The thought of appearing as nothing more than an incompetent rich boy’s son in the eyes of the master he admired made his fingertips turn cold.
At that moment, a familiar, languid voice reached his ears.
“Brother. So this is where you were.”
When he turned around, he saw his youngest brother, Seomun Hwan, slowly walking across the training ground.
A piece of rock candy was stuck in his mouth.
“Is that you, Hwan? What brings you here?”
Seomun Jang-cheon was puzzled. His youngest brother usually never came anywhere near the training grounds.
“The crows were making such a racket that they woke me up.”
“Crows?”
Come to think of it, there had been an unusual number of crows around lately.
Even the laziest servant who wouldn’t wake no matter how hard you shook him found the birds’ cawing too noisy?
Seomun Hwan sucked on his rock candy as he plopped down on a nearby chair.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like? I’m training, obviously.”
“Working hard from the crack of dawn, huh?”
“Crack of dawn? It’s almost time for lunch!”
“Is it?”
“Hah!”
Jang-cheon almost snapped back but held his tongue.
Conversations with his youngest brother always went like this.
He had tried many times to correct the lazy boy’s habits, but every attempt had failed.
That was largely because their mother doted on her youngest son excessively.
“Just endure it. Endure.”
Right now he didn’t even have time to waste on pointless chatter with Hwan.
Hadn’t he planned to skip meals and devote every second until tomorrow to training?
He raised his sword again, but Seomun Hwan spoke up.
“Mind if I watch?”
“Do as you please. It’s not like you came here to train anyway.”
“As expected of you, Brother. You really understand me.”
Seomun Jang-cheon decided to ignore him completely and began swinging his sword in earnest.
Swish! Swish!
Some time passed.
When the now-breathless Seomun Jang-cheon paused to rest, Seomun Hwan casually opened his mouth.
“That’s the Taiji Flowing Cloud Sword, right? The new form Master Hyungeom taught you this time.”
“Yes.”
It seemed the donations from the Seomun Clan had been more generous than expected.
Teaching such an advanced sword technique to a mere secular disciple was proof of that.
Perhaps they truly held Seomun Jang-cheon’s talent in high regard.
“Haven’t you already memorized all the forms? So why have you been repeating the exact same movements over and over?”
At those words, Seomun Jang-cheon frowned and replied,
“Memorizing the forms perfectly and comprehending the principle contained within them are two entirely different matters. That’s why I must swing the sword diligently until I grasp its true meaning…”
At that moment, Seomun Hwan slowly spoke.
“Taiji is slow, and clouds are fast.”
Seomun Jang-cheon blinked.
There was something profound hidden behind his youngest brother’s indifferent gaze.
“What?”
Seomun Hwan continued while yawning.
“You keep focusing only on the flexibility of Taiji, so your sword is moving too slowly. Clouds may seem to drift gently, but in reality they move quickly. And without wind, they don’t scatter.”
“Clouds?”
“Yeah. The sword art is literally called Taiji Flowing Cloud Sword. So you need to incorporate not just Taiji, but the flowing clouds into your blade as well.”
Something flashed through Seomun Jang-cheon’s mind.
“Wind?!”
Seomun Hwan remained silent for a moment, giving his brother time to organize his thoughts.
Once he judged the timing was right, he spoke again.
“If the sword is the cloud, then the qi is the wind. You must entrust the cloud to the wind. Trying to hold onto it desperately will only hinder you.”
As Seomun Hwan casually waved his hand through the air, the surrounding atmosphere rippled as if pushed aside by an invisible force.
Like an unseen sword had truly moved, several fallen leaves swirled up and scattered.
It was a familiar form.
The very Taiji Flowing Cloud Sword that Seomun Jang-cheon had been practicing so desperately was being recreated before his eyes.
“Just release the tension and let the flow of the sword carry the qi naturally.”
“……”
Seomun Jang-cheon seemed to have grasped something instinctively. He slowly raised his sword once more.
The Taiji Flowing Cloud Sword unfolded again.
Swish!
It looked like the same movement, yet something was fundamentally different.
The moment he relaxed the grip in his hand, qi flowed freely to the tip of the blade.
The sword moved with far greater fluidity.
Whoooosh!
An elegant trajectory that had been impossible before now bloomed at the sword’s edge.
It was as if the sword itself had become a cloud riding the wind—free and impossibly smooth.
When he finished the form, Seomun Jang-cheon’s eyes sparkled with brilliance.
“So this was it!!”
This was the true essence of the Taiji Flowing Cloud Sword.
Fearing he might lose the sensation, he immediately began swinging the sword again with renewed fervor.
Watching him, Seomun Hwan gave a small chuckle and said,
“Yaaawn! I’m going back to sleep. You keep training, Brother.”
With a casual wave, Seomun Hwan strolled away leisurely.
Lost in a state of profound focus, Seomun Jang-cheon didn’t even notice his brother leaving as he continued swinging his sword.
His talent is better than I expected.
The title of Hubei’s greatest prodigy wasn’t entirely empty praise.
If he had been born into a martial clan instead of a merchant family, or if he had joined one of the Nine Sects and One Gang as a proper disciple, he would have progressed much further by now.
It was a little late, but if Hwan guided him properly, he could grow strong very quickly.
If he made a good impression on Master Hyungeom tomorrow, there might even be some benefits from Wudang.
“Anyway, that’s enough for today. Grow strong quickly and become a pillar of the Seomun Clan.”
Inside Seomun Hwan’s head, a detailed plan was already forming on how to systematically strengthen his second brother step by step.
But even he could not have predicted what would happen next.
The following day, in the afternoon.
Summoned abruptly by his father, he was dragged into a room where an elderly Taoist with a magnificent white beard was waiting.
“So it’s you. The one who grasped the essence of Wudang’s secret technique at a single glance.”
It was none other than Master Hyungeom, who was supposed to have left that very day.
His eyes shimmered with intense expectation.
This feels like it’s going to be a huge hassle.