The Reluctant Spar Review
As if air was slowly filling his lungs, Geum Jeokgeol gradually released his grip on Ryeon. But no color returned to his pale face. He stood there as if lost in a nightmare.
Taeheo Jin-in cleared his throat awkwardly and inserted himself between them. He didn't forget to signal the onlookers with his eyes. The members of both families snapped to attention and began dispersing the crowd. The difference was that the Danmok Clan folks wore slightly smug expressions, while the Geum family tried to mask their utter dejection.
"Ahem. Ryeon, are you all right? If you're not feeling well, we should call the physician right away..."
"No, no, I'm fine! I just got a bit drained after focusing so hard and relaxing. It was my first spar like this!"
Ryeon shot her arm up high, emphatically declaring her perfect condition. Taeheo Jin-in smiled.
"That's a relief, then. Both of you put on an excellent show, so shouldn't we award a prize or something, elders?"
But despite his attempt to lighten the mood, the heads of both families remained silent.
Ryeon glanced sideways. The Geum family head's face, looking far more ill than hers, was burned into her vision. And then her mother's face, gazing at him. There was no hostility in Wijicheong's eyes toward Geum Jeokgeol. If anything, it held the shared sorrow of those who had lost the same thing.
"Ugh...!"
Just then, Geum Jongha, standing beside her, let out a stifled groan and staggered. His leg, overexerted in the spar, had cramped up.
"Jongha!"
"Young master!"
Ryeon, closest to him, instinctively supported him. Geum Jongha's limbs trembled violently. The onlookers began to murmur at the sight.
* * *
Geum Jongha lay on the bed, too mortified that Ryeon stood fine while only his leg had cramped to even glance her way.
"Heh heh, it's just a brief cramp—no need to worry."
The summoned physician chuckled as he let some blood and packed up his things. Ryeon hoped he'd brew a decoction, apply moxibustion to Jongha's limbs, and stay longer, but he left without a hint of lingering.
As he departed the room, an excruciatingly awkward silence settled over the remaining group. The Geum father and son with lips clamped shut, Wijicheong with her quiet, subdued expression for some reason, Danmok Hyeon-u who glared at Geum Jeokgeol then switched to a worried look at her, Danmok Cheon-gi silently watching them with a pensive face. And Taeheo, who had unwittingly intruded on family matters, tried to excuse himself but stayed at Ryeon's pleading gaze.
But Ryeon soon regretted it.
"Well... now that this constructive spar has ended and Young Master Geum has no major injuries, how about we review the previous match?"
"......"
"......"
The atmosphere chilled twice over. As Geum Jongha's face flushed with fury, Ryeon pressed her forehead.
Taeheo looked around in bewilderment.
Aigoo, Daoist...
In Daoist sects, they could laugh it off post-spar and review together. They were gathered to become immortals, after all! But this was right in the heart of the secular world. Even Yeopun hadn't conceded immediately after sparring with her. Who would listen to a review in this situation without it spreading everywhere?
"...Hm, the Jin-in is right."
"Pardon?"
"What?"
"Ah, Father!"
But surprisingly, Geum Jeokgeol agreed. As Geum Jongha shot his father a betrayed look, it was Danmok Cheon-gi who spoke next.
"Bring writing materials. Since Young Master Geum's arm cramped, Ryeon, you can summarize our discussion."
This would trap her between the elders, reliving their pummeling of each other. Ryeon's mind spun faster than during the spar.
"Um... then, how about just Geum gongja and I do it together!"
"What?"
Danmok Cheon-gi's scar twitched up to his brow.
Ryeon stated firmly.
"Warriors of the murim don't casually share their martial arts with others."
"Your arts came from me, and his from the Geum family head—why not discuss that?"
"My respected parents and grandparents shaped my form, but I'll build my core myself."
At Ryeon's deliberate words, Geum Jeokgeol let out an ambiguous sound—laugh or sigh? Danmok Cheon-gi shook his head and led the adults away. But he left guards to secure the residence, peer servants to assist, and even Yeopun.
Since they were similar in age and had watched the spar, they could discuss together. Ryeon realized he'd left Yeopun, the Daoist, to prevent mishaps, but nodded without comment.
* * *
At the large table in the inner courtyard, the boy and girl sat facing each other at a distance.
"Is this really okay?"
Hwaryun beside Ryeon eyed the ink while glancing at Geum Jongha. The sharp boy seemed to have grasped the bad blood between the Geum and Danmok clans—how Ryeon's father had died.
Geum Jongha, fuming to the top of his head, whispered with his servant and missed Hwaryun's words.
Ryeon replied softly.
"It's too embarrassing to do it in front of all the adults."
"Mm."
Not quite what he meant... But Hwaryun said no more and took the inkstone from her hand, grinding it swiftly. When Ryeon reached to do it herself, he dodged almost sternly. In moments, the ink ground smoothly.
"Mm."
"Mm."
Meanwhile, Geum Jongha's expression as he reviewed the spar lost to a girl a head shorter was priceless. Admiration plain on his face one moment, forcing sternness the next, scowling as if angry—his face twisted every which way. You could've said his face cramped, not his arm.
"Honestly, I went easy because I let my guard down—if I'd gone all out from the start, I could've won!"
Geum Jongha blurted. Ryeon narrowed her eyes at him, and a small chuckle sounded. It was Yeopun, sitting primly beside them.
"Wh-what's so funny?"
Geum Jongha's face burned crimson at the laugh, his servant fidgeting anxiously.
"Well... you said you could've won."
A hint of the veteran loser's superiority showed on Yeopun's face. Geum Jongha averted his eyes and muttered deflatedly.
"Or... maybe Danmok Ryeon, you used some trick?!"
"What trick?"
Geum Jongha's mind raced.
"Uh, like getting advice from the adults via transmission..."
Even a sturdy ten-year-old's imagination had limits for tricks.
"Does that even make sense?"
Acting on transmitted advice mid-spar was tough even for experts, but Geum Jongha shook his head vehemently. He couldn't accept the situation.
"Yeah! That's gotta be it! No wonder you dodged so fast! Always badmouthing my father, and now cheating even in a spar?!"
"Y-young master..."
As his servant fretted, Ryeon tilted her head.
"Wanna go again?"
"Huh?"
"Let's spar again. No adults now."
"Th-that...!"
"Scared? Then forget it."
Ryeon picked up the brush. Geum Jongha shot to his feet.
"Come on!"
Yeopun, startled by his bravado, whispered to Ryeon.
"Young Lady Ryeon, isn't that a bit harsh...?"
He seemed sympathetic toward Geum Jongha—perhaps shared pain.
Ryeon pouted at Yeopun.
"Whose side are you on, Daoist Yeopun?"
"Yours, of course, Young Lady Ryeon. Shall I lend you my sword?"
"Hey! What're you whispering? Giving secret tips again?! Get out here!"
* * *
Geum Jongha sat quietly across from Ryeon, eyes puffy and tear-streaked, hair disheveled, face smudged with dried dirt.
"Shall we review?"
"......"
"Or spar once more?"
"N-no. Let's... review..."
He spoke hastily, startled.
"Uh, so in the third exchange..."
Geum Jongha trailed off, sneaking a peek at Ryeon.
"Second exchange?"
"Mm."
"Don't tell me from the first..."
"Explain from the start?"
"No... uh... yeah... okay..."