WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: HidingTurtle

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◈ Raised by a Ruthless Swordsman ◈

Chapter 12: Swordsman

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At noon, the streets overflowed with every kind of sound.

Beside me, cartwheels rolled over the dirt road, rattling whenever they struck stones, while calls to customers rang out endlessly from the stalls lining the street.

In the mountains, all I heard at dawn were mountain birds, leaves rustling in the wind, and insects chirping.

After soaking my ears in that silence for ten years, these sounds felt remarkably lively.

So this was what it meant for people to live gathered together.

As I looked around and turned a corner, I spotted a crowd gathered in a circle beside the road.

When I drew closer, I saw an open space at its center. A shabbily dressed man was squatting there, holding a short stick. A small tin can and a piece of cloth lay scattered by his feet.

Beside him sat a small monkey, one foot tied with a cord. It had dark brown fur, a black face, and eyes that rolled constantly in their sockets.

When the man tapped the stick twice, the monkey sprang upright on its hind legs. It straightened its back like a person and neatly clasped its hands together, as if it had learned how to bow somewhere.

“Oh!”

Light exclamations escaped the onlookers.

The man slowly spun the stick once. The monkey turned in a circle, then covered both cheeks with its hands and tilted its head at the end.

It was quite adorable. Laughter broke out from the crowd.

After showing several more tricks, the man tapped the little can with the end of his stick.

At the sound, the monkey hurried over, lifted the can with both hands, and made a circuit before the gathered people.

Whenever it stopped before someone, they dropped one or two coins into the can. With every clink, the monkey bobbed its head as though answering.

“Goodness, where did he find such a creature?”

An elderly person standing behind me stroked their beard and remarked.

I was amazed that an animal could be trained like that.

When the monkey passed before me, I untied my money pouch as well, took out three coins, and dropped them into the can. I liked the clink.

Once the can had gone around, the man bent at the waist and bowed. A little applause rose from either side.

There were so many things to see in the world.

Leaving that sight behind, I returned to the main road. After walking a little farther, another commotion rose from one side of the street.

“You little bastards! Hey!”

Turning toward the harsh shout, I saw a beggar who had been squatting beneath an eave awkwardly get to their feet.

Their body was skin and bones, their clothes were worn through in places, and their white hair was matted to one side, as though it had not been combed for days.

Two snot-nosed boys were scampering away with several coins in their hands. An empty bowl that had been at the beggar’s feet rolled crookedly to the side.

The beggar made a show of taking two steps after them, then lowered their hand and stopped.

“Damn little brats…”

Muttering under their breath, the beggar returned to their spot and dropped down heavily. They remained sitting there for a while before eventually pulling the bowl back to their feet.

A few passersby glanced over, then continued on as though it were nothing unusual.

Since entering the city yesterday, I had seen people like that in many places.

Jang Sam had said there had been too much rain this summer, leaving the crops poor. Was that why there were so many people begging?

Those with strength gathered in groups, hid in the mountains, and turned to banditry. Those without it seemed to drift into the city and hold out bowls beneath the eaves.

The same bad harvest had split people into two paths.

But what about fish? The sea would not suffer a bad harvest simply because it rained.

I thought of Mother and Father. Had they gone out on their fishing boat at dawn today as well? Were they cleaning fish beneath the fish-market awnings?

I hoped they were living well without trouble.

After leaving the main road, I spotted the faded cloth hanging from the eaves of the inn where I was staying.

Crossing the threshold, I found the place packed with people. Steam billowed from the kitchen, and the noise of conversation filled the room.

Abok, hurrying busily between the tables, recognized me. He set down the stack of empty bowls in his hands and rushed over.

“You’re back, sir. So, how did it go?”

He seemed eager to hear about the escort agency. Rather than answer, I unfolded the clothes tucked beneath my arm with one hand. The emblem of the Faithful Escort Agency had been neatly embroidered over the left breast of the rough hemp garment.

Abok’s eyes widened.

“Wow...! You really passed? Isn’t that an escort warrior’s uniform?”

His voice rose so high that several guests at a nearby table glanced over.

His reaction made me feel a little awkward, yet strangely proud.

“Our guest has become a...”

“Waiter! Another jug of wine over here!”

Someone at a distant table raised a hand and shouted. Abok flinched and turned his head, then looked back at me with a broad smile.

“I truly want to congratulate you, but as you can see, it’s mealtime and I’m terribly busy. Please find a seat first. What would you like to eat?”

I considered asking for a recommendation, but I did not want to take up his time while he was busy, so I chose one of the dishes Abok had mentioned yesterday.

“I’ll have the Dongpo-style braised pork.”

“Yes! I’ll bring it right out!”

Abok stole another glance at the emblem before hurrying off toward the kitchen.

I sat in an empty corner, placed the clothes from beneath my arm on my lap, and untied my sword, propping it beside the table.

Looking around, the inn was so crowded at mealtime that there was hardly room to set foot inside. Both my first and second meals here had been delicious, so it made sense. Munhwi had chosen a good place.

Come to think of it, where was Munhwi by now? He had said he was returning to his hometown because of some business. Things had worked out well for me because of him, so I hoped he reached home without trouble too.

Before long, my food arrived.

Thick slices of meat were laid neatly across a long plate. It appeared to have been braised for a long time in dark soy sauce, its surface a deep reddish-black and gleaming with fat.

When I put a piece in my mouth, it was savory, with a gentle sweetness settling at the end. It was very good.

I put another piece, one with a thick layer of fat, into my mouth. It was rich enough to leave grease on my lips, yet it was not greasy.

Half a bowl of rice disappeared in no time.

Even while I ate, Abok kept scurrying through the inn. He cleared empty bowls, poured wine, and threaded his way between guests.

I had meant to casually ask what Wudang was, but seeing him like that, it seemed I would not be able to have a leisurely conversation with him for some time.

Still, with business going so well, it would be a serious problem if those people returned.

Around the time I had nearly cleared the table, Abok came over to settle the bill. As I handed him the coins, I casually asked him something.

“Those people from yesterday haven’t come back, have they?”

“You mean the Black Snake Gang? Thankfully, they haven’t been seen again.”

Abok smiled in relief before heading off to clear the empty bowls at the next table.

Once the table had been cleared, I leaned back in my chair.

It was a relief to hear that the Black Snake Gang had not returned, yet for some reason, my back did not feel any lighter.

For ten years in the mountains, every moment I was awake, I had swung a sword until I was sick of it.

I came down from the mountain thinking I did not want to spend even one more two-hour period in that yard. Yet only a few days had passed, and my hands already itched to wield a sword again.

Perhaps it was because I had crossed swords with Escort Captain Ma.

The calluses on my palms suddenly felt thicker than usual. Feeling sorry to trouble him, I stopped Abok again as he passed by.

“Is there an empty clearing nearby where people don’t usually go?”

Abok rolled his eyes as he thought for a moment, then pointed beyond the inn.

“If you leave by the East Gate and walk for about the time it takes to eat a meal, there’s a small peak. There’s a flat clearing around its middle where children sometimes go to play. People are busy at noon, so it will probably be almost empty.”

I nodded my thanks and rose from my seat.

Going up to my room, I neatly folded the escort warrior’s uniform and set it aside. I secured only the escort token and money pouch inside my clothes, then belted my sword at my waist.

After locking the room, I returned to the main road.

I walked east along the main road for quite some time. The people and stalls grew sparser, and more of the cloth banners hanging from the eaves had faded. The street gradually narrowed, and before long, the eastern city gate came into view.

Two soldiers stood beside the road, glancing at several sheets of paper posted to one side. Drawing closer, I saw rough sketches of men’s faces on a few of the papers.

One had a vicious face marked with a scar, while another had one crooked eye.

A soldier compared the papers to my face once, then looked away as though there was nothing to note.

They appeared to be portraits of people wanted by the authorities.

The soldier’s eyes briefly paused on the sword at my waist, but when I took out my escort token and showed it, that was the end of it.

The soldier jerked their chin, clearing the way.

After passing through the gate tunnel, my view opened up. The scenery outside the East Gate was different again from what I had seen outside the South Gate when I entered the city.

The road was narrower, and on either side stretched empty rice paddies where the harvest had ended, along with brown grasslands extending into the distance. Far away, at the end of the road, a small bluish-green peak rose up.

I headed toward it. After walking for about the time it took to eat a meal, the road gradually changed from bare earth to a narrow trail through the grass.

Up close, the peak was not very high. It was too small to call a mountain, but too steep to call a hill.

After following the path uphill for some time, I finally found a flat space between the trees. No one seemed to have visited for a while, and the only traces of footsteps were old ones. The peak was quiet at noon, save for the occasional birdcall.

For a moment, the yard in the mountains overlapped with what I saw before me. A small dirt yard that would be full with ten adults seated around it. Even the broad flat rock at its center.

It felt strange to be standing in a place so similar to that yard again, though there was no flat rock here.

I removed the sheath from my sword and gently set it down in the grass. Standing with my feet shoulder-width apart, I lightly gripped the sword by its hilt.

I drew in one long breath, then slowly let it out.

I took the opening stance I had practiced every day for ten years.

I let the tip of the sword hang diagonally downward and shifted my weight onto my back leg.

Then I slowly raised the sword tip.

First form. The sword tip softly traced an arc, closing a round circle in the empty air. My wrist naturally twisted, and at the end of the circle, the sword tip slanted down past the place where someone’s shoulder would be.

Second form. It continued directly from the end of the first. My foot slid half a step forward, and the sword again drew a larger circle as it flowed toward an opponent’s side.

With a short twist of the wrist at the end, the sword tip curved inward along the arc and cut briefly across the place where someone’s wrist would be before withdrawing.

Third form, fourth form, fifth form.

Each form moved differently, but their foundation was the same. Soft circles and arcs. A flow that did not break, continuing into the next circle.

And where those circles finally closed, there was always a wrist, throat, or side.

Even while seeming to receive and redirect an attack, the sword tip would curve in like a snake at some moment and seek out the enemy’s flesh.

Some forms drew broad circles, while others traced only a short, small arc. Sometimes I stepped forward, and at other times I retreated half a step.

Hyeonam had always stressed cutting precisely and driving the blade in where it needed to go. If my posture was wrong in the slightest, I had corrected it hundreds of times.

Form followed form without pause. Sword and feet repeatedly drew arcs over the dirt.

By the time all twelve forms had run their course and come to an end, the sword tip had returned to the position of the opening stance, angled downward. My feet stood neatly in the same place as before.

I returned to the beginning and performed them once more. Then again, faster. Then faster still.

The gaps between forms gradually narrowed. At some point, the boundary between one form and the next blurred, until they felt like a single unbroken flow.

Before I knew it, I had forgotten the sound of my feet on the dirt and the grass brushing against me. I forgot the warm noon sunlight and the chill wind of early winter.

Only my sword and my breathing remained.

I did not know how much time had passed. My shoulders had warmed, and sweat ran down my back.

At last, I finished the final form and slowly lowered my sword. I wiped the blade once on my clothes and returned it to its sheath.

My clothes clung to my back with sweat, but I felt light enough to fly.

On my way down the peak, I looked back once. Tangled marks made by my feet and sword tip remained on the dirt.

It felt as though something that had been piling up in my head since yesterday had scattered there with them.

The truth that my sword and I could no longer be separated cooled with the sweat on my back. Ten years had completely turned me from a fisherman into a swordsman.

At last, I accepted that truth.

The wind cooled the sweat running down my spine.

* * *

I descended the peak with lighter steps.

As I walked down the narrow trail, the noon sunlight had already begun to slant to one side. Long shadows stretched over the empty fields.

After walking a little farther, the East Gate appeared before me again.

Just as before, two soldiers stood beside the road, inspecting those who came and went. When I briefly showed my escort token, one soldier jerked their chin and cleared the way.

Passing through the gate tunnel, I began to hear the sounds of people again. I went past the street where people and stalls had thinned out, heading toward the inner main road.

I had walked for some time and was just about to enter the main road when I noticed someone squatting beneath an eave by the roadside.

Their tangled hair and worn clothes did not look much different from the other beggars I had seen at noon. An empty bowl lay at their feet as well.

Yet my eyes kept returning to them.

What was different?

I narrowed my eyes.

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