Episode 10: Breathing Techniques

“Heading out so late, are you?”

“It’s too hot to walk during the day lately.”

Not long after Dang Mujin found Gwai, the two of them left Seongdo.

Normally, they wouldn’t dare walk the roads at such a late hour, fearing wild animals. But this time was different. A martial arts master was right by his side.

Dang Mujin didn’t know exactly how powerful a master at the peak of martial arts could be. But he had never heard of the greatest martial artist being eaten by a tiger or a master being killed by wolves. Gwai must have had some confidence to venture out at night.

Once they left Seongdo, the human presence quickly faded away.

The chirping of insects and the cooing of doves filled the air, loud enough to hurt the ears.

The night sky was a sea of stars, threatening to spill over. Dark clouds occasionally obscured the starlight, only to retreat again.

Dang Mujin alternated his gaze between the sky and the ground as he walked.

Suddenly, he thought of his father.

When he asked if he could follow Gwai on this journey, his father had surprisingly agreed without hesitation.

“Go ahead. Take care.”

“Aren’t you short-handed?”

“What’s more important than that? This is your only chance to leave.”

Once a healer settles in a village, they can’t leave. There’s never a time when everyone in a village is healthy.

Just as you think of leaving, you remember you need to treat Mr. Jang in the neighboring village. And when you try again, you recall you need to deliver medicine to Mr. Song in the upper village.

You see the faces of patients who might recover if you just treat them one more time. If you leave now, you imagine them suffering. But once you heal them, new patients appear, waiting for the healer.

And so, a young man in his twenties becomes forty, then fifty, and eventually reaches sixty.

By the time it feels too late to leave, you pass the practice on to your child, who ages in the same place.

That’s the life of a healer. Dang Mujin’s father lived that way, and so did his grandfather.

Dang Mujin realized his father must have had many days when he wanted to leave.

It’s only natural. Every man wants to see the world, to witness the landscapes he’s only heard about in stories.

How many regrets must his father have swallowed to nod so readily when his son said he wanted to follow Gwai?

His nose tingled with emotion. Dang Mujin pressed his eyes with his fingers and spoke up.

“But, sir, if I follow you around, won’t I miss out on being a blacksmith?”

“There’s a forge in every town. Renting one for a day is no problem for someone like me. And there’s something I should mention.”

“Yes?”

“Could you drop the ‘sir’ thing? Every time you call me that, it feels weird. Like I’m some eighty-year-old man.”

“Is that so?”

But there wasn’t a suitable title. Calling him by name felt too informal, and using a nickname seemed odd, especially since it wasn’t a particularly grand one.

Then it dawned on Dang Mujin.

‘Ah, he wants me to call him Master.’

It seemed inevitable. Dang Mujin feigned ignorance and asked again.

“Then what should I call you? Ma—”

“Call me brother.”

An unexpected, cheeky suggestion. Dang Mujin squinted at him.

Gwai’s gaze was turned slightly away, so his face was hidden.

“Brother? You want me to call you brother? Really?”

”…Yes.”

“I could do that, but the age difference is more than double. What would people think if I called you brother?”

“Well, do you have a better title? You don’t, do you?”

Dang Mujin pondered. There really wasn’t a suitable title. ‘Sir’ was out, ‘brother’ was out, and ‘master’ didn’t quite fit either.

Then a phrase crossed his mind.

“Old man?”

Gwai clamped his mouth shut.

The two walked in silence.

The initial excitement and joy of walking at night faded quickly.

By the time the eastern sky began to lighten, Dang Mujin’s legs were starting to ache.

“We’ve walked quite a bit. Shouldn’t we take a break?”

“Let’s do that. There’s something we need to do.”

“Something we need to do?”

“I promised to teach you martial arts, didn’t I? We should at least get started.”

Dang Mujin’s heart raced. He thought he should quickly find a branch to practice swordsmanship.

But Gwai had something else in mind.

“Sit down and cross your legs.”

“Cross my legs?”

“Yes. The beginning of martial arts is to calm your breath and feel your energy.”

Dang Mujin sat as instructed, crossing his legs. His posture was awkward due to his lack of flexibility, but Gwai didn’t comment on it.

“What do I do next?”

“Take a deep breath, slowly and deeply. Then exhale gently.”

Inhale—exhale. Inhale—exhale.

After a few breaths, Dang Mujin looked at Gwai.

“And then?”

“And then what? Keep going until I tell you to stop.”

It felt like something was off, but he wasn’t in a position to argue. Dang Mujin continued the slow breathing.

The eastern sky, once dim, brightened completely, and the sun began to rise over the horizon.

Of course, nothing changed. He didn’t feel stronger, nor did his body feel lighter.

Instead, his mind filled with random thoughts.

Dang Mujin’s understanding of martial arts came mostly from memories of kids at the Cheongseong sect’s Seongdo branch, who boasted about how tough and tiring sword training was. They never mentioned breathing exercises.

The breathing that began around dawn continued past breakfast and into the late morning. It was almost lunchtime.

Dang Mujin, unsure if this was right, glanced back. Gwai was lying on a rock, dozing off.

Finally, Dang Mujin couldn’t hold back and called out to Gwai.

“Uh, old man.”

“What?”

Gwai’s voice, waking from sleep, wasn’t pleasant. It seemed he didn’t like being called ‘old man.’

But until a better title was found, that’s what he would be called.

“I’m not doubting you, but having spent my life near the Cheongseong sect’s branch, I’ve heard some things.”

“What are you curious about?”

“When I was young, the kids at the branch said they started swinging wooden swords as soon as they joined. I never heard about breathing exercises.”

Gwai chuckled.

“That’s because of practical reasons.”

“Practical reasons?”

“Try sitting kids under ten and making them breathe like this for a few hours. They’d get restless and run off in less than an hour. If you repeat that for a few days, they’d start skipping practice.”

“That makes sense.”

“If the kids don’t come to practice, do you think their parents would pay the tuition?”

“Oh.”

Dang Mujin immediately understood.

When giving medicine to children, you add twice as much licorice and, if possible, give them a small treat. That way, they won’t be afraid to come to the healer.

When dealing with children, removing their reluctance is the priority. It seems martial arts training isn’t much different.

“First, you let them play with swords. After a few months, if they show promise, you teach them the real techniques. The main sects take in those ready to learn properly, so they start with the real techniques. But smaller sects or branches teach them later.”

“Then how much longer do I need to keep breathing like this?”

Gwai stretched and looked at the sky.

“Now that you understand how to breathe, let’s start in earnest. Today’s goal is to feel your energy.”

“I haven’t felt anything yet…”

“Of course not. I’ll guide your internal energy, so focus on the sensation.”

Gwai sat behind Dang Mujin, placing his hands on his lower back. After a moment, a peculiar sensation arose around the Kyungmun and Daemak points.

A cool, tingling feeling, not strong but distinct.

“Do you feel something?”

“Uh… yes.”

“That’s your energy. Today’s goal is to remember that sensation.”

Gwai, the master of energy manipulation, gently guided Dang Mujin’s internal energy.

Dang Mujin closed his eyes and focused on his inner senses.

The path of the energy wasn’t complicated. He had seen it in medical books and had countless needles inserted in those spots during acupuncture training.

“Kyungmun, Daemak, Ochu, Yudo, Georyo, Hwando.”

Dang Mujin murmured softly. Behind him, Gwai chuckled with satisfaction.

“Teaching a healer has its perks. Normally, you’d have to teach them where the points are first. Since we’re at it, let’s expand the range a bit.”

Dang Mujin didn’t respond, just concentrated.

Gwai gradually expanded the range of energy he guided. Down to the Pungsi point, up to Ilwol, Cheopgeun, and Yeonaek. The energy smoothly traveled from the armpits to the hips.

“For a while, it’ll feel tingly whenever you move your energy. It’s the sensation of the impurities blocking your meridians being cleared away, so there’s no helping it.”

As Jin Gi Do In continued, Tang Moo-jin felt a peculiar sensation.

It wasn’t as distinct as the energy that the strange force pulled at him with, but there was another faint energy circulating within him. The path this energy took mirrored the meridians he had learned about while studying medicine.

So where did this accumulated energy within him come from? Tang Moo-jin inhaled slowly and deliberately.

A thread-thin, faint energy entered through his nose, passing through the Jingming point in the nasal cavity, up to the Tongtian point in the head, and then slowly descending to the Jueyin point near the lungs.

It was a fragile energy, like the mist of a spring morning, ready to disperse at any moment.

Yet, because it was so faint, even Tang Moo-jin’s limited skill could manage it. Like a child gently grasping a small feather with tiny hands, Tang Moo-jin carefully guided the faint energy.

He nudged the energy that had paused at the Jueyin point. He knew all the meridians within his body. Even without seeing them, he understood where to direct the energy.

The small energy he had drawn in moved from the Jueyin point to the Riyue point. Soon, the energy he was guiding met with the energy led by the strange force. The energy moved by the strange force enveloped the one Tang Moo-jin had drawn in, gently.

The strange force, focused on Jin Gi Do In, couldn’t miss this sensation. With a chuckle of disbelief, it burst into laughter.

“I’ve picked up a lunatic, haven’t I? I told you to feel the energy moving through the Gallbladder Meridian, and here you are, drawing in energy through Tona?”

Tang Moo-jin remained silent and still, concentrating on the energy. The strange force slowly withdrew its hand from Tang Moo-jin’s back.

Unaware that the hand had left his back, Tang Moo-jin continued to focus intently on the energy.

No, it couldn’t even be called energy manipulation. It was a feeble internal force, not even capable of completing a small circulation. With his extremely limited experience, Tang Moo-jin simply tugged and pulled at the energy, trying to manage it.

Unlike the strange force, which could easily guide larger energies, Tang Moo-jin struggled to control it fully. But he had no intention of giving up.

After much effort, Tang Moo-jin managed to move the small energy from the Dai Mai to the Wuchu point. A distance of less than half a handspan. Yet, his entire body was drenched in sweat as he opened his eyes.

The sun had already dipped to meet the horizon. The sky, clouds, earth, and forest were ablaze with red. It felt like he had started before noon, but it was already evening.

The strange force sat with its back to the sunset, watching Tang Moo-jin. With a sly grin, it asked, “Did you enjoy that?”

Countless thoughts swirled in his mind. There were so many things he wanted to say, so many questions he wanted to ask.

But Tang Moo-jin gathered all those thoughts and simply replied, “Yes.”

And with a grin that mirrored the strange force’s, he smiled.