Plum Blossom Fragrance Filling the Air (6)
A grub is a pathetic, slow, filthy creature that stays at the bottom of the food chain, squished flat with a single step. And when it crawls, it even gets wrinkles—even the young ones. Heh. Why do I know so much about grubs? Because that goddamn grub was me.
If I'd at least become a pupa, I wouldn't have this many complaints. A pupa can break out of its cocoon and discover what it truly is. Sure, the result might be a shit fly or a beautiful butterfly. But at least a pupa knows what it's going to become.
I lived as a grub. A grub that couldn't see even an inch ahead. I spent 35 years like that—20 before regression, 15 after. And now this fool dares wrinkle up in front of me? Ah... so that's how Third Brother felt. Is that why he sliced open my chest with his sword back then? Even so, that was too much. To cut your little brother—your youngest brother—so deep that the bones showed, just for a bit of mischief!
The place where imagined dreams become reality. The one and only haven filled with hope. Namgung Family Estate. Heh. I endured that place for 35 years!
From one corner of the spectator stands, I glanced toward the old Daoist grandpa and said, “It’s just that I don’t know any other way.”
I don’t know normal methods like scolding, praising, or pumping someone up with courage to push forward. My belly got a hole punched through it. My chest bore a long sword gash. I took hundreds of headbutts a day. And not long ago, a single flick to the forehead nearly sent me to the afterlife. That’s how I learned. How a grub survives. How hard it is to become a pupa.
Not that I’m saying I’ll punch a hole in Yuhan’s gut or anything... The problem is whether Yuhan’s current state has even reached pupa after grub...
I half-closed my eyes and stared at him. If he’d metamorphosed from pupa into something, I’d be able to see it. Huh? Something was there. Something gloomy and pitch-black, wrapping around his entire body. It looked kinda like a pupa... but not quite. One thing was clear: he hadn’t achieved anything distinct yet. Whatever it was, at least he wasn’t a grub anymore. To grow pupa-like at such a young age? Not bad. Of course, I’m young too.
Now I’d check what was inside that thing. Slither. I stepped forward with a half-step, a variation of my normal one-step.
Yuhan looked flustered. But it vanished in an instant. He read my altered move and stepped forward exactly half a pace. Then he raised his sword high and brought it down straight and strong.
Luk Hap Geom Beop (Six Harmonies Sword Method). A fine sword art. So simple, yet perfect for mastering the basics—nothing better. The pity was, I knew one even simpler. Even more basic than Luk Hap.
‘Long live Samjae Geombeop! Long live this lord!’
From the half-step, I extended a full one-step. This one was different from before. The Golden Gang one-step. Yuhan dove in precisely to disrupt it again.
‘Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice? No way!’
Crack. Yuhan’s foot bounced back. In-se (Man Stance). Also called mid-level stance. Whirl. I swung at the unbalanced Yuhan’s waist. He swung back from his awkward posture.
Luk Hap is more complex than Samjae. East, West, South, North, Up, Down. Six directions total. But that’s what people who don’t truly know Luk Hap say. The term has two meanings: within the six harmonies and beyond the six harmonies. What most call Luk Hap is shorthand for within. But the other—beyond—rejects limits, encompassing the entire world and heavens. Just like Samjae’s heaven-earth-man, representing existence itself. No boundaries, no end, no completion. Like Yuhan’s movements now.
Swinging from that stance? Probably instinct. I’d repeated basic Samjae thousands, tens of thousands of times, so I was sure. Which meant...
‘Yuhan can’t predict what’s coming next.’
Slash. I didn’t dodge. I could have easily. I could have blocked too. But I stood still. Blood trickled from the shallow cut on my cheek.
“S-So... sorry...”
Yuhan’s eyes shook wildly at the sight of blood. In the middle of a spar, his head drooped. He stumbled back. His whole body trembled.
“What the hell? Why’s he acting up like that all of a sudden?”
“The one hit just stands there, but the attacker’s the one backing off?”
“Did he get poisoned or something?”
“No sign of that.”
“No way he’s shaking just from a little blood, right?”
The crowd, who’d been enjoying the match, went as cold as if doused with ice water. But this was the first match of the Sawangjeon they’d waited five years for. The heat returned quickly.
“What’s the referee doing?! Hurry up!”
“Disqualify him or whatever—make a call!”
“Get off the stage already!”
The Grand Elder was stumped by the sudden mess. At first, he’d thought, No way. He’d seen the Hwasan disciple’s kid falter at crucial moments multiple times. It kept happening. No way... or maybe. As the spar dragged slowly to this point, he was certain.
‘Tsk tsk. With such a weak heart...’
The boy might be a prodigy, but he lacked the basic virtue of a warrior: the right to wield a sword. More precisely, the mindset of a Murim fighter.
Soon, murmurs erupted not just from the crowd but the leaders too. More specific than the general complaints.
“Unqualified. To let a kid like that into Sawangjeon?”
No one in particular, but Hwasan’s Grand Elder Hae-mu’s face flushed purple—everyone knew who was meant.
“No pride? He’s gone too far.”
“That in Sawangjeon... He should’ve withdrawn in prelims if he had any conscience.”
The one who should rage—Hwasan’s sect leader Jaming—stayed silent. No more prayers. Head bowed, he berated himself. Unbecoming of a sect head, but he didn’t care.
‘It was all my greed.’
Maybe from accepting leadership. “Only you can uphold Hwasan now.” The boy’s heart was purer than any.
“Master, will you be happy if I learn this?” He’d thought it unavoidable. “For Hwasan.”
But he should’ve seen Hwasan’s future, not... “Master! I learned 24 Plum Blossom Forms today!” “Good job.” “Hehe.”
He’d known this day would come. And it had. The pure child trembled at blood on his sword. The boy turned to him—no smile, no clear eyes. Just terror.
“M-Mas... ter... I...” “What are you doing?! You okay?!” “Mas... ter...” “Healer! Call the healer! Tsk, useless fool!” “...”
He shouldn’t have averted his eyes then. Unqualified. As master, as sect leader. Couldn’t face Yuhan. If he’d met those eyes properly, would things be different? No—handing him the sword was the first mistake.
Too late for regret. He’d broken his promise to always be together. Bringing Yuhan to Sawangjeon was just more greed. He realized it now. Chest pain returned, defying the divine healer’s orders for rest. This pain was nothing compared to Yuhan’s—or his solitary suffering since that day. Yes, heaven’s punishment.
Cough! Jaming spat blood and collapsed. Clang.
Yuhan dropped his sword. Then, his nightly mutter: “I really can’t do it after all.”
He’d tried so hard, yet this. “This is our home from today.” “Wow! Grandpa! I get a house too?” “Hehe, call me Master now.” “Yes, Master! What’s our house called?” “‘Hwasanpa’. My favorite place—soon yours too.”
It was doomed from the start. “Yuhan, want to hold a sword? It’s okay to say no.” “Will it make you happy, Master?” “Y-Yes... for now...” “Then I’ll do it! Homes are for happy people.” “You’re Hwasan’s next leader. Act mature, be an example.” “...Yes, Master.” “How’s your sword progress?” “Learned 24 Plum Blossom today.” “Good. Don’t slack.” “Master, anything else...?” “Busy now. Come back later.” “...Yes.”
Effort after effort. But in the end... “How dare you harm my disciple!” “I... didn’t... mean... to...” “Yuhan! Apologize!” “Mas... ter... I...” “What are you doing?! You okay?!” “Mas... ter...” “Healer! Now! Tsk, useless!” “...”
Back to begging daily. That day was lucky—warm winter, extra dumplings from begging. So he dared hope. “Follow me?” “...Can I?” “If you want.” A family desire.
“It was never gonna work. I’m... I’m... I’m...”
“Referee! Do something! Proceed!”
“Woooooo!!!”
Jeers poured from the stands. Worst Sawangjeon ever. Leaders grumbled too. A normal referee might comply, but the Grand Elder stayed put. He knew the Youngest Young Master wouldn’t get cut by such a weak strike. He let it happen. There was a reason. Everything with that kid exceeded expectations.
He scanned the crowd. Complaints everywhere—except one spot. The Namgung section was quiet. Eyes full of anticipation. What stunt next? How will he shock us? But even Namgung’s vibe couldn’t flip the mood.
Unless... it could turn the worst into the most unforgettable.
Finally, Namgung Daeso’s mouth opened.
“Blah blah blah, so fucking noisy!”
“...”
“...”
“...”
Er... yeah. It got quiet. In one shot.