WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Oblivious

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◈ Murim in my Hometown ◈

Chapter 39: Hope

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Ever since returning from Choi Estate, I devoted myself to training day and night. I had told the Hao clan in advance that I would not be taking on any requests for a while.

I had escorted Yehyang for two days and received a precious spirit herb. Geuk Hwan had clearly noticed that I was training my internal energy, but he did not ask a thing.

It was obvious why they had gone out of their way to pay me with a spirit herb when silver would have sufficed.

They meant that if I maintained a good relationship with the Hao clan, I could continue obtaining spirit herbs.

That would make it difficult to refuse the Hao clan's requests in the future. Now that I had stepped into internal-energy training, it could not be helped.

Having one more way to obtain spirit herbs besides the Black Market was not a bad thing at all.

That was not the problem right now.

I did not know when Do Hoengil would return.

If I wanted to learn the Latter Eighteen Forms of the Heavenly Steel Saber Method, I needed to train diligently and make progress.

I woke before dawn and spent about an hour practicing how to circulate energy and regulate the breath, reviewing the Internal Energy Method's qi-circulation pathway.

Then I went out to the yard, drew my long saber, and slowly performed the First Eighteen Forms of the Heavenly Steel Saber Method while channeling internal energy into them.

Like drawing silk threads from a cocoon, I drew the thinnest possible strand of internal energy from my dantian.

That way, even if my qi and blood became tangled, my blood vessels would suffer less damage.

Do Hoengil had warned me several times, so even while working to circulate energy and regulate the breath, I focused on drawing out internal energy as thinly as possible.

Rushing headlong was the quickest path to qi deviation.

Since the Internal Energy Method was optimized for the Heavenly Steel Saber Method, simply following its circulation pathway naturally channeled internal energy into the forms.

The forms empowered by internal energy were sharper, faster, and stronger.

They did not have any greater destructive power yet, but in a real fight where life and death could be decided by the slightest difference, that was enough to serve as a hidden trump card.

The problem was that channeling internal energy into the forms consumed it as well.

Whenever I checked my dantian after spending two to four hours immersed in training, I was dumbfounded.

I had not fought a fierce battle. I had merely practiced, yet even if it was only a tiny amount, my internal energy had been depleted.

They said efficiency improved as the density of internal energy increased, so endless training was still the only answer.

Once the sun stood high in the sky, the sunlight became fiercely piercing. I went into the mountain behind my house and drew my long saber again in a small clearing deep in the empty forest.

I finished training around the time the sun slanted down toward the western mountains, then descended.

The moment I got home, I took out the wooden box hidden in the wall cabinet. Inside were twenty pills Old Physician Sang had made by processing Sun-Seeking Ginseng Herb.

They might not compare to Tianshan Snow Ginseng, but they were more than enough to replenish my depleted internal energy.

Once I had eaten all of these, where would I get more spirit herbs? Should I search the nearby mountains?

Only now did I understand a little why all the Nine Great Sects were tucked away deep in famous mountains.

I cut one pill into five pieces, put one piece in my mouth, and wrapped the rest in oiled paper again.

As I waited cross-legged, a cool energy spread through my stomach like mist. I raised my internal energy and gathered the spirit herb's natural qi around my dantian.

Once again, the natural qi did not enter my dantian easily.

Like moisture thickening into droplets and falling, it slowly seeped into my dantian bit by bit.

Fortunately, one-fifth of a pill was more than enough to replenish the internal energy I had spent training over the last seven days.

Next time, I would replenish it after ten days.

I finished the process of circulating energy and regulating the breath, then stood. My body felt light. My internal energy had fully recovered.

Instead, hunger surged up from my stomach.

I washed with water drawn from the well and left the house.

There were a fair number of guests scattered about Pungcheon Inn in the late afternoon. The only ones among them who even exchanged greetings with me were Gusam, the cook, and the innkeeper.

Recently, though, one more person had been added.

One of the two farmers who came by almost every afternoon to eat the cheapest bowl of thin noodles raised a hand when he saw me. His name was Pungchil.

“Hey, you're here?”

“Are you having dinner?”

“Dinner should be eaten at home. I had my midday meal here earlier, then stopped by again for a moment while working. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“To me?”

Pungchil was a middle-aged farmer, darkly tanned and smelling of sweat.

At first, he could not even meet my eyes. He would only eat thin noodles with his companion before leaving. Since martial artists were the sort to draw a sword over making eye contact, avoiding me was only natural.

After seeing Gusam and me trade jokes without reserve, he had gradually become someone I could at least exchange greetings with.

I did not want to speak casually to a farmer old enough to be my father, so I spoke politely.

If he had been a martial artist, that would have been out of the question.

If you lowered your head around them, martial artists took you for a pushover and trampled all over you without end.

Even if they called me rude, I would have protected my pride with a stiff, half-polite tone.

Pungchil spoke comfortably, but he was always cautious around me.

Whether he spoke formally or casually, the fact that I carried a saber did not change.

Pungchil was a simple, honest person who had lived diligently his whole life without ever staining his hands with another person's blood.

Talking with him made me feel as though I had truly returned to my hometown and met an old neighbor.

For some reason, I was glad to see him, and my heart felt at ease. I could almost touch something like futile hope.

That although I was an irredeemable murderer, perhaps it was not completely too late.

That if I only put down my saber, perhaps I could live an ordinary life again.

That I could work hard and sweat all day, then end my day in an inn like this, sharing a drink with harmless neighbors like Pungchil.

Pungchil spoke with an easy expression.

“My youngest learned some Fist-and-Kick Techniques from Young Hero Gu here...”

“Young Hero Gu?”

Who was he talking about? I turned in the direction of Pungchil's gaze and saw Gusam wiping a table with a strangely proud look on his face.

“...You? What the hell have you been doing lately?”

Gusam proudly squared his shoulders.

“You know what they say, don't you? Even if the tree wants to stay still, the wind won't leave it alone. Once I started spending time with the neighborhood kids, people naturally began following me around, calling me Young Hero Gu. Well, my fists are a little fierce, you know. I've never seen a brat who didn't cry after getting hit with a rapid barrage of No Credit and Facial Paralysis forms.”

“Tsk, tsk. You've got a serious case of hot air in your head.”

Pungchil smiled and explained the situation.

“A relative from another town stopped by our home for a while and saw it. They suddenly told us that a martial academy in their village was recruiting young disciples. So... could you take a look at him? I am not asking you to teach him martial arts. Just see whether he has any potential.”

I thought it over for a moment, then shook my head.

“You should reconsider. Becoming a martial artist... is no life for a person.”

“Being a farmer isn't much of a life either. Huuuu.”

Pungchil let out a deep sigh.

It was heavy with the hardship and exhaustion of a life so poor that it permitted nothing beyond survival.

“I've been playing in the dirt since before I could walk. And now, with fifty just around the corner, I'm still covered in dirt like this. No matter how much I farm, after rent, taxes, and repaying what I borrowed to eat during bad harvests, I am always left empty-handed...”

Pungchil said that he had lost his land in his previous hometown and wandered until he eventually drifted all the way to Seochon.

He had somehow settled down here, but the soil was poor, so the harvests were never much.

He worried so much that if they kept living by digging at the earth like this, one bad harvest might suddenly bring a string of funerals to the family, leaving him unable to sleep at night.

Even when the whole family pulled together, it was hard enough just to survive. Yet his youngest son kept abandoning his work and running off.

No matter how much he scolded him, the boy said he was sick to death of farming and would not listen.

He had always worn a sullen, listless face, dragging himself through life as though he were already dead. But after meeting Gusam's group, he had changed completely.

“He practices martial arts every day without rest. It was the first time I had ever seen him work so hard at anything. I thought he was just lazy, but I suppose I was wrong... A few days ago, he boldly declared that he would enter a martial academy, succeed for all to see, and give the family a comfortable life. Honestly...”

A pleased smile spread across Pungchil's face, as though he was proud of his son.

“My child wants to try something. I wonder if stopping him is really right. It does not seem like I could stop him even if I tried. Forcing him to stay would not solve anything, and he would only resent me for the rest of his life. Still, if he enters a martial academy, he should be able to make a living somehow, shouldn't he?”

It was not an unreasonable request. With him asking so earnestly, I did not feel right refusing.

“When is the entrance examination?”

“Ten days from now. It is called Azure Cloud Martial Academy. Apparently, it is fairly well regarded around there. Have you heard of it?”

“No. I don't know if I'll be any help, but it wouldn't be difficult to take a look.”

“You will? Thank you.”

Pungchil's deeply tanned face brightened.

* * *

Pungchil had two sons and a daughter.

He had originally had seven children, but they had died from illness, starvation, drowning, and wolf attacks. Only three remained.

The one who had set his heart on entering Azure Cloud Martial Academy and walking the path of a martial artist was his youngest son.

His name was Pung Obok. He was only twelve years old.

He was a little shorter and smaller than Gusam, who was the same age, but his body had been toughened by farmwork, plowing fields and moving stones.

After sparring with him under my guidance, I learned that, like a farmer's son, he had been born with strength. The force behind his fists and kicks was as heavy as that of an average grown man.

Of course, martial arts were not done with strength alone.

You also needed courage and cleverness. Most important of all was your field of vision.

You had to see the whole picture and grasp your opponent's intentions to lead a fight to victory.

Pung Obok's field of vision was narrow.

Without properly watching his blind spots, he reacted only to what was right before his eyes and desperately charged in.

That was why he was easily fooled by simple feints and panicked at even insignificant techniques, flailing his hands and feet.

The same was true beyond fighting.

If you could not see broadly and only allowed yourself to be swept along by each situation, you would be carried away in a frantic current regardless of your own will.

You would be driven into a corner again and again, tossed about according to other people's wishes, and eventually come face-to-face with the self that had passed the point of no return. Then it would be over.

It was not that Pung Obok had no talent for martial arts.

By my cold assessment, he was not as good as Gusam, but he was somewhat better than Bang Hojin, the eldest son of the fabric shop.

I had intended to say a few encouraging words and leave it at that, but I could not.

Whatever Gusam had told him, Pung Obok's eyes blazed with such reverence and respect as he looked up at me that it made me embarrassed.

I could not simply leave.

I taught him a few simple Seizing Techniques for grabbing an opponent's arms and legs and throwing them down.

Pung Obok fell over spectacularly, then sprang right back up and took his stance again. He was dripping with sweat and covered head to toe in dust, but he kept trying without rest, his eyes shining brightly.

“Oh my, Obok really got himself caught today.”

“How does he keep getting knocked down without lasting even a moment?”

“Why don't you try it, Brother? Let's see how long you last.”

“If he had worked this diligently at farming, we'd have been a thousand-seok household long ago.”

“Where have you and I been all this time, then? If farming could be done just by being diligent, where would there be poor people in this world?”

Pung Obok's family had gathered on the porch without anyone noticing. They watched the sparring match and chatted merrily.

They had spent generations looking only at the land without ever finding hope, but now smiles finally bloomed across their faces.

They were all strangely excited, as though they had been promised a bountiful harvest.

Gloom and despair spread easily to the people around you. Hope did too.

Pung Obok was a twelve-year-old boy who had run off to the mountains and rivers because he hated the stifling work of farming.

The youngest child who had worried his parents by refusing to grow up even when his backside was spanked until it burned was now the Pung family's only hope.

Had I been infected by that hope too?

He was still young. Once he entered the martial academy, trained, and gained experience, his field of vision would surely broaden.

Without realizing it, I had changed my mind.

* * *

Under the blazing midsummer sun, everything ripened day by day toward autumn. Grain in the fields and all kinds of fruit on the trees.

I too became increasingly accustomed to channeling internal energy into my forms.

Even after practicing saber techniques for eight hours a day, there had been no problems yet.

My qi and blood were calm, and when I examined my body while working to circulate energy and regulate the breath, my blood vessels and internal-energy pathways were stable.

Gaining confidence, I slightly increased the amount of internal energy I channeled. From the thickness of one silk thread to three.

It consumed a little more internal energy, but there was no great change in the power of the forms.

In the meantime, Pung Obok passed the examination and became a disciple at the rural martial academy.

Pungchil was so happy that he ordered alcohol instead of thin noodles at the inn for the first time. I bought the side dishes to celebrate. Young Hero Gu also got a drink beside us.

I had good news as well.

As usual, I had finished training and was washing when I sensed someone approaching from beyond the wall.

I strapped on my long saber and went to the front gate. It was a servant employed by Geuk Hwan.

“The higher-ups are looking for you.”

“What is it? I said I wouldn't be taking on requests for a while.”

“I was told to inform you that the results have come in regarding the matter you requested before.”

My mind instantly cleared.

There was only one matter I had asked the Hao clan to investigate.

I had known this day would come eventually. The day I would receive an answer...

I wanted to rush over immediately and see what the Hao clan had found. But I could not take a single step.

The anxiety I had buried deep in an unseen corner of my heart crept around my ankles and tightened around my throat.

If Soso noona, Uncle, and Auntie were no longer in this world...

Fear turned my stomach, and one side of my chest went cold.

“Would you prefer to come tomorrow?”

“...Let's go.”

I barely pulled myself together and followed the servant to Simhyang Pavilion. Geuk Hwan was waiting for me in one of the other annexes.

He was not alone.

Footnotes:

A thousand-seok household refers to a prosperous landowning family, measured by a large annual grain yield.

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