WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Oblivious
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◈ Murim in my Hometown ◈
Chapter 43: Firewood
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“...When my master took me in, killing my parents was both impulsive and thoroughly calculated.”
The sunset faded, and dusk settled in. As the room grew dark, I took out a fire starter and lit the lamp.
The darkness retreated a few steps, but Do Hoengil’s face did not brighten at all.
“Even as the sect fell apart and its disciples fled into the secular world one by one, I could not do the same. The enemy who killed my parents stood before me, so I had no choice but to grit my teeth and train in martial arts. My master used my hands to fulfill his will. I killed those he wanted dead. The man was Munhwi’s martial granduncle.”
“...Did you avenge your parents?”
“I did.”
For someone who had repaid such a blood-soaked grudge, Do Hoengil was remarkably calm. I felt as though I understood how he must have felt.
“It was not enough. What do you think revenge is?”
Was there any need to ask something so obvious?
“Isn’t it paying back anyone who harms me or my family, with interest?”
If you stopped a hundred people on the road and asked them, every one of them would nod. It was common sense.
All the stories written about revenge were the same. The only difference was whether they cut off heads or slit open bellies and pulled out intestines.
Do Hoengil shook his head.
“Revenge is not taken against a person. It is taken against fate.”
“Is that why you do not accept disciples? To take revenge by ending your sect’s lineage?”
He had clearly said that before. Revenge.
“My master wanted the Sword Branch’s grudge to endure even after his death. It was as though he wished to become a vengeful ghost and cling to the sect. Only when the Sword Branch, Saber Branch, and Cheongsan Sect have all vanished will that foolish ghost’s lingering resentment fade away as well. Along with the fate forced upon me as the Sword Branch’s Direct Successor.”
Something did not add up.
“Then there is no reason for you to have a life-and-death duel with me. Cheongsan Sect has already fallen.”
“This is the closing of a sect with more than a hundred years of history. Though I entered it against my will, I have held a sword for fifty-five years. I cannot accept it ending so pointlessly.”
Do Hoengil placed the sword that had rested beside him on the table.
“I mastered the Immortal Radiance Evening Sword, gained insight into the Jade Spring Sword Method, and delved deeply into the Saber Branch’s martial arts, but I never reached the Cheongsan Art. I tried every method and made every effort, yet all of it was in vain. Now, only one thing remains.”
Do Hoengil stared directly at me, a cold gleam in his eyes. Like an arrow just before it was released at its target.
“A life-and-death duel with a worthy rival who has inherited the Saber Branch’s true teachings. That is the final end I have prepared for Cheongsan Sect.”
With that, Do Hoengil emptied his teacup and rose. I remained seated and watched him leave.
The front gate closed, and his presence faded into the distance. In the silence, I stared at the center of the table where Do Hoengil had placed his sword.
I could not look away for a long time, as though an invisible challenge letter lay there.
Do Hoengil came again the next morning to correct my posture and techniques for the Latter Eighteen Forms.
After teaching me for two more days, he suddenly drew his sword.
I thought he meant to spar, but instead he took an opening stance and performed an exquisitely refined sword art. Then he demonstrated another supreme art, as obscure and profound as the Latter Eighteen Forms.
“These are the Jade Spring Sword Method and the Immortal Radiance Evening Sword. Etch them into your mind. They may become your masters as well.”
“Can you really pass on the Sword Branch’s supreme arts so freely?”
“I know the entire Heavenly Steel Saber Method. Is it not only fair that you know the Sword Branch’s finest arts as well?”
Do Hoengil slung his bundle over his shoulder and put on his Bamboo rain hat.
“Winter is coming soon. Where are you going now?”
“Since it is winter, I am heading somewhere I can rest easy. We will meet again next year.”
Just as he had appeared, Do Hoengil vanished without a trace.
* * *
It was fully autumn now. White frost formed in the mornings and evenings, and the temperature dropped sharply. A blanket alone was no longer enough at night.
When I went to light the brazier, I found that I had no firewood. The storage room was empty.
It was time to start preparing for winter.
First, I needed to fill the storage room to bursting with dry firewood.
There were trees everywhere if I climbed the back mountain, but not just anyone could swing an axe properly.
Using an axe relied on different muscles from saber or sword techniques. If I took it lightly, I could easily strain myself or get hurt.
Cutting trees, carrying them home, splitting them, and drying them could not be done in a day or two.
It might serve as a way to train my body if done properly, but I was too busy practicing the Heavenly Steel Saber Method.
Fortunately, my coin pouch was heavy.
On my way back from the Black Market last time, I had wiped out a band of robbers and gained seven horses. I still had plenty of the silver I received after handing them over to the Hao clan.
After practicing my saber art and briefly circulating energy and regulating my breath, I stopped by Pungcheon Inn in the afternoon.
Lunch had passed, but dinner was not yet near, so Pungchil was the only one there. As usual, he had come for a bowl of thin noodles.
“You are here.”
Pungchil welcomed me with a bright smile.
“Where is the person who always comes with you?”
“Who? Jang Cheok? Went to the next village for day labor. I plan to join tomorrow. What’s the point of staying idle at home? I need to earn at least a little money.”
The harvest was over, and barley planting was still far away. It would have been fine to rest for a while, but farmers were people who needed something in their hands to feel at ease.
Even in the dead of winter, when the whole world froze over, they would find work somehow and keep themselves busy.
Seeing Pungchil smile so proudly, I thought he was going to boast about his youngest son again.
After entering the martial academy in a distant town, Pung Obok had sent news to his family once a month through people traveling back and forth.
No one could read or write, so there were no letters. Messages simply passed from mouth to mouth.
Pung Obok was said to be receiving the academy master’s special expectations and affection because of his sturdy body, strengthened through farm work, and his great passion for martial arts.
I thought it would be more of the same today, but I was completely wrong.
“This time, that brat Obok sent money home. It is not much, but he is already earning his keep. I wondered when he would ever grow up, yet he has grown so much already. Heh, really...”
He had only been at the martial academy for a few months. Was he already earning money?
After asking, I learned that once his daily training ended, he worked as a waiter at a tavern introduced by the academy master from evening until night.
Something about it bothered me, but Pungchil was so happy that I did not want to spoil it with unnecessary words.
There were kind people in this world, like the owner of Pungcheon Inn. The master of Azure Cloud Martial Academy was probably a rare good person as well.
Even though his youngest son had sent money home, Pungchil still ordered only one bowl of thin noodles.
“I am late in doing it, but once I save a little more money, I plan to send my eldest son to a village school. If he can at least finish the Thousand Character Classic, perhaps he can take one of the lesser government examinations, even if he cannot pass the major one. If he passes, they say he can work for the government and receive a salary. He will never have to starve for the rest of his life. And I have many things to prepare if I am to marry off my younger daughter before she misses her proper age...”
Perhaps having a source of income made it easier for him to breathe. Pungchil, who had lived with his eyes fixed on the ground, had begun dreaming about his family’s future.
Pung Obok, struggling far from home, must have had a heavy burden on his shoulders.
“Do you know where I can buy firewood in Seochon?”
“Firewood? There are plenty of places that sell it. This is the right season. Some farmers split firewood to sell for a little extra money. Don’t buy from a shop. It’s cheaper at a street stall. Go past the end of this busy street...”
Following Pungchil’s directions, I found several stalls selling piles of firewood.
Even though the wood all came from the same mountain, not every piece was the same. The lengths and thicknesses varied, as did their dryness.
Only one stack suited me. The pieces were a good size, and they had clearly been left in the sun for several days.
“How much for all of this?”
“Where do you live?”
Once I told him where I lived, the young woodcutter made an offer before we even began haggling.
“I will give you all of it for one hundred copper coins, if I deliver it to your house.”
It seemed a little expensive, but there was too much firewood for me to carry alone. It was better to leave it to the woodcutter than hire a porter separately.
“Fine. Let us go.”
As I stepped closer and paid him in coins, I caught a strangely unpleasant, sweet smell from his body.
“What is it?”
“...Nothing.”
The woodcutter tied the bundled firewood together with rope and carried it across both shoulders.
I led the way, and the woodcutter followed behind.
Riding the winter wind from behind us, that sickeningly sweet smell kept reaching my nose.
I never expected to smell it again in Seochon.
Feeling unsettled, I wondered whether my nose was mistaken.
No. Once you smelled it even once, you could never forget it. No herb gave off such an alien scent.
Opium.
The smell of burning opium was that distinctive.
Opium was regarded as something close to a cure-all.
It lowered blazing fevers, stopped coughs, eased diarrhea, and made any pain vanish as though it had been washed away. Even people screaming after having their arms or legs cut off became quiet after taking opium.
In exchange, it was horrifyingly addictive. Once the effects faded, users suffered terrible withdrawal symptoms.
That was why anyone who touched opium even once kept seeking it. They would not eat or sleep, only smoke opium, until they became gaunt wrecks and wasted away to death.
At first, I had considered keeping it for emergencies. But after seeing how an opium addict ended up, I never touched it.
The woodcutter’s face looked healthy.
His eyes were steady, and even with a mountain of firewood on his shoulders, he followed without wavering.
He probably had not been using opium for long.
Back home, I stacked the firewood in the storage room. The room was larger than it looked, and there was still space left. I ordered more firewood on the spot.
The woodcutter roughly estimated how much more would be needed to fill the room, then nodded.
“It will take about seven days to be safe. My mother is ill, so I cannot stay away from home for too long.”
“Is your mother very sick?”
The woodcutter sighed, his face dark.
“She has had a chronic illness for a long time. The physician says there is no hope. Is it not a child’s duty to at least lessen a parent’s pain?”
I finally understood why he reeked of opium without seeming affected by it.
He was not using it himself. He was using it to make his mother’s final journey less painful.
Opium was difficult to obtain and quite expensive. I wondered whether selling firewood would be enough to pay for it.
The firewood was handled. Now it was time to buy travel rations and jerky.
I had slowly eaten everything I brought back when I returned home.
Most people traveling long distances stopped at an inn for a meal, no matter how shabby the place was.
Few people wanted to eat tasteless, dry travel rations and foul-smelling, tough jerky.
There were plenty of places to eat in Seochon. There were inns, taverns, and even pleasure houses.
I had no plans to leave my hometown anymore, but perhaps because I had lived as a wandering martial artist for so long, I could only feel at ease with plenty of travel rations and jerky in my bundle.
There was nothing better when I did not feel like going to an inn for a meal.
Unfortunately, Pungcheon Inn did not sell travel rations or jerky.
“Well... nobody asks for them. The other inns are probably the same.”
As Gusam said, I visited several other inns, but they all shook their heads for the same reason.
The few places that had stock kept travel rations so old that bugs had eaten half of them, while the jerky was so dried out that I had no desire to put it in my mouth.
Since they did not sell well, there were no shops that specialized in them either.
After asking around, I eventually made my way to Wandering Swordsman Inn in an alley on the outskirts.
It was where Dang Seyeong, while fleeing the pursuit-and-execution squad, had hired three swordsmen.
When I entered, martial artists who lived like mayflies with no tomorrow licked their lips and watched me with threatening eyes.
They were looking for an easy mark to cheat. I was ready to give them a sound beating if they tried anything, but after sizing me up for a moment, they all looked away and returned to their business.
Most of the customers were martial artists, so as expected, Wandering Swordsman Inn had proper travel rations and jerky.
“We carry three grades: low, middle, and high. Which would you like to see?”
“Let us start with the middle grade.”
The low grade only existed to make people wonder how anyone could eat such a thing, so there was no point looking at it.
There was little difference between middle and high-grade travel rations, but the jerky had a great difference in quality.
The middle grade was tolerable, while the high grade had less of a gamey smell, perhaps because it used spices.
Since I intended to eat them now and then while training this winter, I bought four gwan each of middle-grade travel rations and high-grade jerky.
“That will be half a tael of silver altogether.”
The innkeeper rubbed his palms together with a shrewd smile.
“...That is damn expensive.”
“It is because the jerky is high grade.”
“Is the meat used for jerky not the toughest cuts from cattle and pigs?”
“You can tell from the smell that there is no gamey odor at all. And the meat is so tender. That is because we soak it thoroughly in our inn’s special seasoning, made with clear rice wine and expensive spices.”
After paying, I placed the travel rations and jerky, wrapped in oiled paper, into my bundle.
I turned to leave before someone started trouble, then stopped.
A face that did not belong in Wandering Swordsman Inn was looking around the room. There was not even a blade on the person’s back or waist.
It was the young woodcutter who had sold me firewood yesterday.
As though he had found the person he was looking for, the woodcutter hesitantly headed for a table near the back door.
He sat across from a sharp-eyed middle-aged person, glanced around, and took a coin pouch from his clothes. After checking the money, the person handed him something wrapped in paper.
The woodcutter checked its contents and nodded.
Once the transaction was over, the middle-aged person disappeared through the back door. The woodcutter put the item into his clothes and stood up as well.
As he walked warily past the wandering martial artists watching him darkly, his eyes met mine.
He froze with a start, then looked away as though he did not know me and hurriedly left the inn.
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