WeTried Translations

Translator: ZERO_SUGAR

Editor: Abstract

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Chapter 8: Invitation (1)

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Invitation (1)

Jang Po-kwae dropped from the treetop back to the ground and stared at Mumu with a somewhat stiff expression.

He too had listened to the constables talking the whole way to the place of exile. They said Yu Yeop-kyung's adopted son was strong as an ox.

But the boy was only seventeen. Strong as an ox or not, Jang Po-kwae had assumed it still fell within the range of an ordinary person. Never once had he imagined the boy could leap to that height on the strength of a purely conditioned body.

'And from a standing position, no less...'

He had jumped. No running start at all. How far outside common sense was that? In a slightly subdued voice, Jang Po-kwae asked him a question.

"How did you do that?"

"I just did a standing high jump with everything I had."

"No. That's not what I mean..."

"You can do it if you train your abdomen, your calves, and the soleus that forms the triceps surae behind the shins."

'...And what in the world is the soleus?'

Martial artists were well versed in the human body too. But that knowledge concerned the blood pressure points and chi inside it. Of course they understood, in a basic way, which muscles formed where, yet this boy Mumu seemed to know the finer muscles by name.

'Training... right, fine.'

But you could do this just by training? Was that really possible? His head a tangle, Jang Po-kwae carefully pointed at Mumu's shin.

"Mumu. Would it be alright if I touched your leg for a moment?"

"...That's unpleasant."

"Haah. I only want to check how much you've trained your muscles, that's all."

Don't look at me with those suspicious eyes. Mumu stared back at him for a moment, then spoke.

"Touching would be a bit much, but shall I show you instead?"

And without a second thought, he rolled up his loose trousers. At once an astonishing set of finely conditioned muscles surged into view, rippling.

"Whoaaa."

"Mumu. Look at those legs."

"Are those even muscles?"

"How do you train to build muscles like that?"

The constables around him let out cries of amazement. Jang Po-kwae was at a loss for words as well. He had thought the boy was well trained, but this was beyond common sense.

'This child... did he train himself this far entirely alone?'

As far as Jang Po-kwae knew, the boy had lived without ever leaving the place of exile since he was an infant. He had been taught by Yu Yeop-kyung, and Yu Yeop-kyung was a scholar. There was no chance a scholar who taught the Confucian way of the young master so versed in human musculature that he had instructed the boy to train like this.

'If this much is possible by his own efforts alone...'

The look in Jang Po-kwae's eyes changed. A martial talent gifted enough to condition his body to this degree, even if he was a little late to begin cultivating internal energy, looked to have real promise in martial arts. Since leaving the martial world to become an official, he had not felt this kind of hunger in a long while. After some deliberation, Jang Po-kwae looked at Mumu, wore a kind smile, and spoke.

"Mumu. Do you know the saying, Non-transmission to the Unworthy?"

"Yes. My father taught it to me. Isn't it 'Non-transmission to the Unworthy, let no skill outstrip virtue'?"

"That's right. It means you must not pass talent to someone who lacks character, and you must not let skill or knowledge run ahead of virtue."

"Correct."

"In this old man's eyes, our Mumu is deeply devoted to his father and seems pure of heart."

At the praise Mumu scratched his head, feeling oddly awkward. Having grown up alone in the mountains with only his father, he did indeed have a great deal of innocence about him.

"From what I heard earlier, you seem quite interested in martial arts."

"......"

"This old man decided long ago that he would not take as a disciple anyone lacking in temperament and virtue. But our Mumu does not seem to be that sort. So I would like to teach you martial arts, Mumu. Become my disciple and..."

"Thank you for the offer. But I'm fine now."

"Yes, my disciple... what?"

Fine?

He had naturally assumed the boy would want to become his disciple. Yet here he was refusing with that bone-dry face, even waving him off. For a moment Jang Po-kwae felt enormously embarrassed. He had extended the offer with the constables right there watching, so how could the boy turn it down in an instant?

Jang Po-kwae knit his brow and asked.

"You don't want to learn martial arts?"

"No. I was just curious, that's all."

"Curious?"

"Yes. But I think training my own body would just be more fun."

A snort escaped Jang Po-kwae at that. The boy was laboring under some misconception. He thought martial arts was little more than exercise to condition the body. True, martial arts was a kind of study that disciplined body and mind, but at its root it had been devised as an efficient method for protecting oneself from enemies while subduing and killing them. It seemed he had to make that clear.

"Mumu. There's something you're misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding?"

"Yes. Martial arts does not simply end at disciplining body and mind."

At that, Mumu tilted his head and asked.

"Then what is it?"

Thinking he had hooked the boy, Jang Po-kwae rose from his seat and went on.

"Martial arts, you could say, is training to grow stronger."

"To grow stronger?"

"That's right. For instance, like this..."

Sreung!

Jang Po-kwae drew the sword at his waist, then continued.

"Training the sword and swinging it developed for the sake of facing enemies efficiently, and that is how countless sword arts and sword styles came to be."

With those words he swung the sword and showed off a few movements. Boys that age lived and died by what looked cool, did they not? If he showed an Advanced sword style technique here,

Seuk!

Jang Po-kwae settled into his opening stance and unveiled the most dazzling technique he knew.

Footnotes:

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