Hong Geolgae was restless, unable to sit still.
His philosophy was that meals should be earned through begging, but it made no sense to beg from the two companions he was traveling with.
In the end, Hong Geolgae compromised with reality.
Determined to at least earn his keep, he would occasionally disappear to gather ingredients. He returned with small fruits, a few bird eggs, and even a small pheasant.
Each time Hong Geolgae brought back ingredients, Gwaeui would silently glance at Dang Mujin.
Calmly, yet with a hint of unease.
“Why do you keep looking at me like that?”
“No reason, really.”
“It’s not me who’s strange, it’s him. How does he catch a pheasant with his bare hands?”
“Is it too much to hope you could be a bit strange too?”
“I once heard from a wise monk that excessive greed leads to the Black Hell. You should be careful.”
“Oh, what a valuable piece of advice. Thanks to you, my afterlife will be peaceful. Haven’t you heard that disrespecting elders leads to the Ice Hell?”
“I may not know about respect, but I can certainly attack…”
The two bantered as they prepared dinner, with Hong Geolgae watching. He knew how to gather ingredients but wasn’t skilled in cooking.
The three of them combined the food they received from Jueul Village with the ingredients Hong Geolgae brought, managing a decent meal even in the desolate mountains.
After they finished eating, Hong Geolgae asked, “So, where are we headed?”
At that moment, Gwaeui jumped up and clapped his hands.
“Amazing! Hong Geolgae, you’re a genius!”
“What?”
Hong Geolgae looked bewildered, and Gwaeui turned to Dang Mujin with a teasing tone.
“This Tang family guy has been following me without asking once, and you ask as soon as you join us. Brilliant. Truly sharp.”
Dang Mujin realized he had been following Gwaeui without knowing their destination.
He had been so fascinated by the new breathing technique he learned that he focused on it whenever he had the chance, leaving no room for other thoughts.
Besides, his goal was to learn from Gwaeui, not to reach a specific destination.
He thought he just needed to follow Gwaeui, and he wasn’t wrong.
“I simply trusted the master completely. No questions needed.”
“Of course, you did.”
“Anyway, where are we going?”
“To Henan. Specifically, Luoyang.”
“Luoyang?”
Henan was far away. They had to pass through Sichuan, Chongqing, and Hubei to get there.
He had suspected they were leaving Sichuan as they kept heading east, and it turned out he was right.
“Why are we going to Luoyang?”
“There are many reasons. People to meet, personal matters. It’s good for you too. There’s no better place than Luoyang to showcase your talents and learn.”
Gwaeui rambled on about Luoyang and Henan, calling Luoyang the heart of the Central Plains, where one could encounter all the great sects and families.
But the most important thing wasn’t how wonderful Henan and Luoyang were.
“How are we getting to Henan?”
Sichuan was known for its high and rugged mountains.
The mountains surrounding Sichuan were so daunting that people said entering Sichuan was harder than climbing to the heavens.
“We’ll walk to Chongqing and then take a boat.”
The boat would be on the Yangtze River.
Taking a boat on the Yangtze was one of the few ways to enter and leave Sichuan, and the most common method. Over eight out of ten merchants traveling to and from Sichuan and Chongqing used the Yangtze.
The Yangtze was the lifeblood of the Central Plains. It stretched over ten thousand li, and its fertile banks were home to many cities.
Simply following the Yangtze would allow one to visit most of the renowned places in the Central Plains.
Dang Mujin was excited at the thought of seeing the famous Three Gorges, and Hong Geolgae seemed to be anticipating something as well.
“Master, can I accompany you until we board the boat?”
“Is there somewhere you want to go?”
“I heard my master’s hometown is Chongqing.”
“Really? I thought the old man was from Jueul Village.”
“I heard he moved to Jueul Village when he was young.”
Gwaeui frowned at Hong Geolgae, as if something was bothering him.
After a brief moment of contemplation, Gwaeui nodded.
“Well, there’s no reason not to. We have to go to Chongqing to catch the boat anyway. Let’s travel together for now.”
As the conversation wrapped up, Dang Mujin raised his hand.
“What now? Do you have a place you want to visit too?”
“Not exactly, but I’d like to learn swordsmanship.”
“I figured it was about time. Go make three wooden swords.”
Gwaeui tossed a short dagger to Dang Mujin.
It wasn’t meant for woodworking, but Dang Mujin didn’t mind.
He headed into the forest and returned with a thick piece of deadwood. It was a bit thin to make three swords, but it would do for one.
As Dang Mujin sat down and placed the wood on the ground, Hong Geolgae asked, “Should I get more wood?”
“No, it’s fine.”
“Need a hand? Making three will take a while.”
Gwaeui chimed in from the side.
“You can just watch. It won’t take long.”
Hong Geolgae sat next to Gwaeui, ready to help if the work dragged on.
But Dang Mujin’s way of making wooden swords was unlike any other.
A typical person would follow a process.
First, trim the branches, shape the wood, and carve the edges to form the sword. Even if done in one go, it would take a considerable amount of time.
Dang Mujin’s method was different. He stood the wood upright and split it as if chopping firewood. It seemed reckless, like a child ruining the material in eagerness.
’…It’s ruined. That piece is a goner.’
Hong Geolgae got up and went back into the forest.
He returned with another dry piece of wood, not taking long enough for a cup of tea.
But when he came back, he couldn’t believe his eyes.
Two well-crafted wooden swords lay beside Dang Mujin.
”…What?”
Gwaeui chuckled.
“I told you it wouldn’t take long. Just sit back and watch. That kid’s better at forging and carving than acupuncture.”
Hong Geolgae, curious about what had happened, watched Dang Mujin’s hands intently.
Dang Mujin held the long piece of wood in his left hand and casually sliced it with his right.
His movements were lazy, yet each touch of the dagger revealed the shape of a wooden sword.
Hong Geolgae couldn’t believe his eyes.
Dang Mujin’s hand movements resembled peeling fruit more than carving a sword. Effortless and smooth.
No, it wasn’t even like peeling fruit. It was as if he was shelling peas, revealing the peas inside.
Unless someone had hidden a finished sword inside the wood, it was impossible to make a sword like that.
Whether Hong Geolgae believed it or not, the third sword was completed in the blink of an eye.
Dang Mujin tossed a sword to Hong Geolgae, who examined it with skeptical eyes.
There was nothing wrong with it. It was a clean, sturdy wooden sword. Even the handle was smooth, without a single splinter.
‘How can freshly carved wood be like this?’
Feeling as if he’d seen a ghost, Hong Geolgae looked around. He was the only one who found the situation strange.
Gwaeui swung the wooden sword a few times, then smiled.
“Good. It’s usable. Let’s begin. The sword technique I’m going to teach you is called the Heart-Piercing Sword.”
Dang Mujin raised his hand.
“Isn’t that name a bit plain?”
“A name loses its charm if it’s too long. The shorter and simpler, the better. Besides, the Heart-Piercing Sword is the essence of swordsmanship.”
Gwaeui thrust the wooden sword to chest height. The movement was extremely simple.
“A sword that pierces the heart. Ultimately, the goal of all sword techniques is to strike the opponent’s vital points. Whether a dragon flies from the sword’s tip or it seems to split into five, those are all unnecessary embellishments.”
This time, Hong Geolgae raised his hand.
“Am I learning too?”
“I didn’t give you a sword for nothing. But if you don’t want to, you can opt out.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to. I’m just curious.”
Who could refuse such an opportunity? The martial prowess Gwaeui displayed against the Twin Killers of Zayang was extraordinary. It made the skills Hong Geolgae learned from Ma Jeonga seem trivial.
Whether it was Gwaeui’s personal strength or the power of the Heart-Piercing Sword, he couldn’t tell.
One thing was certain: opportunities like this didn’t come around often. Martial artists were notoriously stingy with their teachings.
“First, I’ll demonstrate the basic forms of the Jasim Sword Technique. Watch closely and memorize the movements.”
The master began to showcase the forms. His pace was deliberately slow, meant for teaching rather than impressing.
The problem was that his movements flowed seamlessly, making it impossible for Dang Mujin to discern how many forms there actually were.
After a brief demonstration, the master tapped the ground with the tip of his wooden sword and spoke.
“Did you catch all that?”
“Am I supposed to just swing the sword in the order you showed?”
The master gave him a look that screamed, “What a novel idea!” Sensing the impending mockery, Dang Mujin quickly defended himself.
“I know nothing about martial arts. Isn’t it natural to be curious?”
“Even if you don’t know, there’s such a thing as common sense…! But, fine. It’s possible you wouldn’t know.”
The master, with a hint of sarcasm, continued his explanation.
“Think about it. If someone just repeats the same moves in order, do you think anyone would bother dying for them?”
“Then how should it be done?”
“You need to master each form thoroughly and be able to use the right one at the right moment. The sequence doesn’t matter.”
The master resumed his sword movements.
This time, the movements were entirely different, yet they remained fluid and concise. Dang Mujin thought he caught glimpses of the forms from the first demonstration.
He realized the master was changing the order of the forms.
“Of course, mastering the forms isn’t as easy as it sounds. Each form requires a specific flow of internal energy, and even the smallest difference in muscle movement can create a huge gap. There’s a world of difference between a sword wielded with understanding and one that merely mimics the form. Watch this.”
The master slashed twice in quick succession. They looked similar, but even Dang Mujin could tell there was something different about each strike.
The master continued his demonstration while speaking.
“Do you remember what I asked you when I brought you here?”
Dang Mujin nodded. It was a vivid memory, one that still lingered in his mind.
“Your limbs are intact, so that’s good. How much medicine have you studied? Have you read any medical texts?”
“If you have the intelligence to understand and memorize the Treatise on Cold Damage, learning martial arts shouldn’t be a problem.”
“It was about the Treatise on Cold Damage. You emphasized the importance of a sharp mind.”
“Exactly. In the end, what’s important is enlightenment. A sharp mind can grasp it from the thinnest thread, while a dull one might not notice even if it sits on their shoulder. So, how does one achieve enlightenment?”
Dang Mujin shrugged. It wasn’t a question he could answer, having never held a real sword before.
“There are two well-known methods. One is to seclude yourself in the mountains and practice endlessly. The other is to find a worthy opponent and clash swords. In my experience, the latter is far more effective. People think best when they’re desperate and under pressure.”
The master continued to wield his sword. The movements seemed to repeat, but the connections between them changed constantly.
Finally, the master lowered his wooden sword gently. Despite the intense movements, he wasn’t sweating, nor was his breathing uneven.
“By now, you should have figured out what I’m going to have you do.”
”…I have no idea.”
The master pointed his wooden sword at Dang Mujin and Hong Geolgae.
“Every evening from now on, fight until one of you passes out. One of you will end up sleeping on the floor, unconscious.”