Chapter 106: The Ladybug Climbing the Cliff
The three of them had been visiting local magistrates and officials. Given the high rank of a magistrate, they had expected it would be difficult to even secure a meeting, let alone persuade them.
Contrary to their expectations, the magistrates agreed to meet them as soon as they heard the purpose of their visit. They even promised to verify the achievements of the people from Nogun Village without any fuss.
Up to this point, they thought it might just be a stroke of luck. After all, confirming the mountain paths and cloud bridges of Nogun Mountain wasn’t a particularly challenging or dangerous task for the officials.
What surprised them was the magistrates’ unexpected enthusiasm.
They had only met with three magistrates, yet two of them were willing to not only verify the villagers’ achievements but also report them. This was the opposite of what they had anticipated.
After some subtle probing, they received a candid explanation from one of the magistrates.
“Rumors of corruption have been circulating about that particular official. We just needed the right opportunity to act.”
“So, you’re stepping in out of a sense of justice?”
The young magistrate chuckled.
“It’s a matter of justice, yes, but also of profit and loss.”
“Profit and loss?”
“If we can vacate that official’s position, I can recommend someone from my circle to fill it. It would increase my influence.”
”…Is it alright to share this with us?”
“It’s not a secret, and those who need to know already do. Besides, you don’t seem like the type to spread it around.”
Tang Mujin finally understood the magistrate’s motives.
Though not a martial artist, the magistrate shared the same ambition to rise higher, using influence and wealth instead of martial prowess.
As they wrapped up their business, Tang Mujin turned to Pyo Chung.
“Are you heading back now?”
“I suppose I should. But I won’t be returning to Nogun Mountain right away.”
Tang Mujin had no intention of urging Pyo Chung to return to Nogun Mountain. In fact, he didn’t think Pyo Chung needed to return at all.
Pyo Chung had spent thirty years in the mountains, a life he never intended. Surely, he deserved to live his own life now.
“Where will you go?”
“I need to conclude my first journey in the martial world. Though I’m old now, I’m still a novice in the martial arts.”
Pyo Chung smiled, imagining the faces of the Wudang sect members and his master, who must be impossibly old by now.
The Wudang sect likely believed Pyo Chung was dead. They would be shocked to see him return. Tang Mujin and Namgung Myung shared a laugh at the thought.
“Then, I suppose this is where we part ways. You’ve been a great help.”
“I won’t forget this. I hope we meet again someday.”
As Tang Mujin prepared to bid farewell, his eyes fell on the three swords Pyo Chung carried.
They were well-cared for but had seen too much use. The hilts and guards were worn, and the scabbards were cracked, as if they might break at any moment. It seemed a miracle they had survived the battle with the Taeui Sword Sect leader.
The blades were so diligently polished that they had become shorter and thinner than typical swords.
“What will you do with those swords?”
“Well, I don’t plan to sell them. I suppose I’ll return them to the Wudang sect, though I’m not sure anyone will want them.”
They were in no condition to be used even for practice. Most likely, they would be melted down and repurposed.
Tang Mujin gazed at the swords for a long time before making a suggestion to Pyo Chung.
“Would you entrust those swords to me?”
“Hmm? What do you plan to do with them?”
“It’s a joyous occasion, marking the end of your long journey in the martial world. Wouldn’t it be fitting to bring a gift back to your sect? Don’t you think?”
Even as Tang Mujin headed to a nearby forge, Pyo Chung couldn’t quite grasp his intentions.
A few days later, a man who seemed out of place arrived at Wudang Mountain.
He was quite old, with a scruffy beard and the appearance of a ragged wanderer. Yet, his eyes were clear.
The elderly wanderer made his way toward the gates of the Wudang sect.
There was no rule barring wanderers from entering Wudang.
This was a testament to Wudang’s inclusivity and confidence. They believed that mere wanderers or rogues couldn’t cause trouble within their domain.
However, this was only true if the visitor left their weapons at the Sword Relinquishing Pool.
All outsiders were required to leave their weapons there, with the only exception being Wudang’s own disciples.
It was an audacious rule, but Wudang had built a reputation strong enough to enforce it despite their relatively short history.
Yet, the old wanderer attempted to enter the gates without leaving his sword at the pool. Young Wudang disciples called out to him.
“Hey!”
At the sharp call, the old wanderer turned to face the young disciples.
”…What is it?”
“How dare you ignore the Sword Relinquishing Pool and not leave your weapon!”
The young disciples drew their swords without hesitation.
They were in the prime of their youth, brimming with confidence in their skills. They were eager for any opportunity to demonstrate their martial prowess.
The fact that the wanderer had bypassed the pool without relinquishing his sword provided them with a convenient excuse.
One of the young disciples charged forward. He had no intention of killing or seriously injuring the wanderer. He merely wanted to showcase the disparity in their skills and assert his strength.
His only concern was that the wanderer might be too intimidated to fight back.
But instead of retreating, the old wanderer drew his sword.
The swordplay he displayed was the Five Elements Sword technique. Though not the highest level of martial arts, the depth of Wudang’s teachings in his sword was far greater than that of the young disciple.
”…!”
This time, the wanderer struck first. His movements were gentle, indicating he had no intention of causing harm.
The young disciple attempted to defend with his own sword technique, but the wanderer’s blade slipped through effortlessly, slicing the disciple’s sword in two. The young disciples’ eyes widened. That white sword was a divine weapon.
The disciple, whose sword was suddenly destroyed, leapt back in shock. His eyes were filled with confusion.
“Who are you? Where did you learn Wudang’s sword techniques?”
The wanderer calmly sheathed his sword and replied.
“I am Pyo Chung. And where else would I learn Wudang’s sword techniques but on Wudang Mountain?”
”…Pyo Chung? You learned on Wudang Mountain?”
It was a name they had never heard before. They hadn’t even heard of a Pyo lineage within the Wudang sect.
Pyo Chung smiled through his bushy beard.
“What is your name?”
“Hyunhak… is my name.”
The young disciple, subdued by the wanderer’s calm demeanor, revealed his name.
Pyo Chung saw in the young man’s confident yet awkward stance a reflection of his younger self. A novice in the martial world, easily swayed into making irreversible mistakes.
“I have a request.”
”…What is it?”
“Please summon my master, Elder Yeongheo.”
Pyo Chung made his request and leaned against a nearby tree.
The young disciples had no idea what to make of the situation.
Elder Yeongheo was an old master who hadn’t taken a disciple in decades, and there was no record of a Wudang disciple taking in a wanderer as a student.
However, the fact that the wanderer had demonstrated Wudang’s sword techniques was undeniable. The disciples hesitated, then retreated to fetch Elder Yeongheo.
When Elder Yeongheo arrived and saw Pyo Chung, he spoke with certainty.
“You… Jungseon. Is that you, Jungseon?”
“Please call me Pyo Chung now, Master.”
“To me, you will always be Jungseon. Do you know how long I’ve waited for you? There were so many things I wanted to teach you.”
“I’m sorry, Master.”
“No, it’s enough that you’ve returned. Where have you been? I thought you were surely dead.”
“I was on a cliff.”
“A cliff, you say.”
Elder Yeongheo didn’t know what cliff his disciple referred to.
But just by looking at him, he could tell that his disciple had led a life of hardship.
Elder Yeongheo gently embraced Pyo Chung.
“You’ve been through a lot. Now, rest here on Wudang Mountain. There are many stories I want to share with you, and many I want to hear.”
Pyo Chung shook his head.
“No, I must return.”
“Return? Where do you plan to go?”
Pyo Chung only smiled, offering no clear answer.
“Master.”
“Yes, Jungseon.”
“Did you know that a ladybug will keep climbing upward if there’s something beneath its feet?”
“Yes, I know.”
Elder Yeongheo nodded.
He, too, had been a child once and had played with ladybugs.
Placing a ladybug on a stick and spinning it to make the ladybug climb endlessly was a game every child played.
“It seems my place is not on Wudang Mountain but on a steep cliff. No matter how much I think about it, I can’t shake the thought of returning to the people on that cliff.”
“Who is on that cliff that you feel this way?”
“There are people who rely on me. I’ve decided to stay by their side until the end. I will spend the rest of my life with them, so I won’t be able to see you again after today.”
”…It seems you’ve made up your mind.”
For a master who had waited so long for his disciple, it was a deeply saddening revelation.
Yet a master must always be prepared to let their disciple go, even if it happens unintentionally. There are no exceptions to this rule.
The conversation came to a halt. Elder Yeongheo couldn’t hide his sense of regret.
Pyochung looked at his master, whom he hadn’t seen in a long time, and smiled. The crow’s feet at the corners of Pyochung’s eyes were deeper than those of his master.
Pyochung mused to himself. If he had returned to the Wudang sect in time, perhaps he would have trained a few disciples of his own by now.
He grasped the middle of the scabbard and lifted the sword horizontally, offering it to his master.
“Master, I have something for you.”
“What is this sword?”
“It’s a gift I brought back after completing my first journey in the martial world. A gift for you, and for our Wudang sect.”
“How thoughtful of you.”
Elder Yeongheo accepted the sword with care.
He didn’t have high expectations, but he appreciated the gesture from his disciple.
Slowly, Elder Yeongheo drew the sword.
Before the blade was even halfway out of its sheath, he was captivated by its beauty.
Having spent a lifetime with swords, he had never encountered one with such an aura.
The sword was as hard as if it could cut through steel, yet as fluid as a fish swimming through water. The octagonal blade seemed sharp enough to slice through air itself.
It was a sword that evoked a sense of longing and melancholy, yet it was also stubborn and resolute.
Engraved near the base of the blade were three names: Jungseon, Junggok, and Junghyeon.
Below the names were three animals: a ladybug, a mantis, and a boar.
Elder Yeongheo struggled to calm his racing heart.
This sword was beyond what he could handle.
In fact, there was nothing in the entire Wudang sect that could compare. The history of Wudang was too short for such a masterpiece.
With a trembling voice, Elder Yeongheo asked, “Jungseon, what is the name of this sword?”
Tang Mujin had not named the sword.
Since it was forged from the melted blades of the Three Swords of Nogun, it was only fitting that the name should come from them. Of course, Pyochung was the only one left of the three.
Pyochung gazed at the blade. Its surface shimmered with a strange pattern, one that some might call waves, others clouds.
But Pyochung saw a pine tree in that pattern.
A pine tree growing on the cliffs of Nogun Mountain.
A tree that silently held the iron stakes, overlooking the cloud bridge, where the remains of Tanglang and Sanjeo were buried.
Pyochung murmured, “Songmun Sword…”
No, he shook his head. Something was missing.
This sword was forged from three blades that should have returned to Wudang long ago.
Though newly made, it was as ancient as the deep regrets of the three masters.
It was a sword for those who missed their time to return, a sword that wove together countless lives swept away by the world’s storms.
And now, it had finally returned, destined to protect Wudang for years to come.
Thus, Pyochung added a single character that embodied the passage of time.
“No, it’s the Songmun Ancient Sword.”