Episode 260: Memorization

“What’s this? I thought you were done with swordsmanship?”

“I can’t just throw away everything I’ve learned so far.”

Even though Tang Mujin had decided to explore paths beyond the sword, he couldn’t completely let go of it. Martial arts are like iron; if neglected, they rust and become useless. Tang Mujin intended to practice with the sword just enough to keep his skills from deteriorating. Who knows, with a bit of luck, he might even gain new insights and reach the next level.

However, it was undeniable that the time he spent with the sword had significantly decreased.

‘What should I do now?’

The first thing that came to mind was poison arts. In dangerous moments, it was always poison that saved Tang Mujin. Even the Three-Eyed Buddha had said that poison was Tang Mujin’s greatest weapon.

Among the many people in the Tang family, there was only one person with whom Tang Mujin could discuss poison: Mok Wana.

Tang Mujin sought out Mok Wana to ask about the poisons he had acquired from Nogunsan.

“Wana, remember the poisons and venomous insects we got from Nogunsan? The Bloodsucking Insect, was it? Where are they now?”

As if waiting for this question, a wide grin spread across Mok Wana’s face.

“Want to see? Follow me!”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Mok Wana, now visibly pregnant, took smaller steps than before, moving with a quick, shuffling gait. It was an oddly fitting sight, but she seemed to struggle a bit. Realizing they might never reach their destination at this pace, Tang Mujin scooped her up in his arms.

“What, you’re going to carry me like this?”

“Yeah, just tell me which way to go.”

“That way!”

Following the direction of Mok Wana’s pointing finger, Tang Mujin ran. The townspeople watched with amusement as he carried her, but neither Tang Mujin nor Mok Wana paid them any mind.

Finally, they arrived at a secluded forest on the outskirts of the city.

“Where is it?”

“Just a bit further that way.”

Mok Wana pointed to a small patch of grass, not even the size of a typical front yard garden. Yet, various poisonous plants that had once been cultivated by the master of Nogunsan were growing there.

Mok Wana wore a proud expression, eager to show off her work, and Tang Mujin did not disappoint her.

“Wow, when did you manage to do all this?”

“Not long after we got back from Nogunsan. I wasn’t that busy.”

“Must have been tough with the baby.”

“It wasn’t too bad until recently. I haven’t been out here in a couple of months.”

Due to Mok Wana’s somewhat lax care, the poisonous plants and grasses, which served as food for the Bloodsucking Insects, were slightly shorter and thinner than those at Nogunsan.

As Tang Mujin approached to examine the plants more closely, a few Bloodsucking Insects buzzed around them. While they posed no threat to Tang Mujin and Mok Wana, there was no guarantee they wouldn’t harm the baby inside her.

Tang Mujin took off his jacket and draped it over Mok Wana, then waved away the insects as he moved closer to the small garden.

“Considering the different climate and soil, it’s impressive you’ve grown them this well.”

“Honestly, I just planted the seeds and checked occasionally to make sure wild animals didn’t eat them.”

“That’s more than enough. But we should move them.”

“Why?”

“Someone passing by could get bitten by the Bloodsucking Insects.”

The risk of someone getting bitten was one thing, but the thought of outsiders discovering these poisonous plants was even more unsettling. It would be better to relocate them to a more discreet location, even if it required more effort.

“Where do you plan to move them?”

“Not sure yet. I’ll figure it out before winter ends.”

Several ideas came to mind. They could return to Nogunsan and cultivate the plants and insects in a secluded area, or they could try raising the insects and plants separately.

There were many things Tang Mujin wanted to try. He was eager to apply the knowledge of Southern Barbarian poison techniques he had learned from the master of Nogunsan.

Of course, the master likely hadn’t shared the most crucial information with Tang Mujin. But he had gained numerous leads, and there were countless things he could attempt. With enough time, the results could be extraordinary.

‘If necessary, I could even visit the Southern Barbarian lands.’

From what the master had said, the political situation in the Southern Barbarian’s Five Poison Sect seemed somewhat chaotic. If he played his cards right, he might find a place among one of the many factions. Just as the master had seen potential in Tang Mujin, other martial artists in different factions might not underestimate him either.

Tang Mujin glanced at Mok Wana’s belly.

’…But not right now.’

After returning to the Tang family estate with Mok Wana, Tang Mujin sought out traders who traveled long distances, asking them to procure rare poisonous and medicinal herbs.

The traders readily agreed to Tang Mujin’s request. After all, herbs and poisons didn’t take up much space, so it wouldn’t be difficult to acquire them during their travels.

However, with winter approaching, the traders couldn’t set out immediately. While local peddlers and cart-pullers traveled regardless of the season, those covering long distances avoided the harsh and dangerous winter journeys.

This meant that Tang Mujin couldn’t start cultivating the poisonous plants or insects with Mok Wana right away. Whether transplanting the plants or raising the insects, it would have to wait until after winter, when spring arrived.

Thus, after just two days, Tang Mujin found himself with free time once more.

’…What should I do now?’

There is a fundamental difference between poison arts and other martial arts. For other martial arts, all you need is a strong body and a weapon. You train endlessly, experience real combat, and gain insights to advance to the next level.

But poison arts are different. They constantly require new poisons, and mastering the use of these poisons is the essence of poison arts.

Even a master who can withstand powerful poisons can’t perform effective poison arts without the right poisons.

With no way to acquire new poisons, Tang Mujin had no means to train.

‘I’ve already tested the toxicity of all the herbs.’

There was one method left. He could train with Mok Wana, exchanging and absorbing each other’s internal poisons. But that was too risky. There was no telling what harm it might cause the baby.

Training with the sword wasn’t feasible, and neither was training in poison arts.

Tang Mujin sat on the porch, tossing twigs to pass the time. The only thing he could do now was look after Tang Ying in place of Dan Seol-young.

As Tang Mujin leisurely spent time with Tang Ying, Dan Seol-young came and sat beside him.

“What are you doing?”

“Not much. I don’t really have anything to do.”

Tang Mujin said, picking up a twig and tossing it. The twig, infused with internal energy, flew swiftly and straight, hitting the wall three paces away before falling.

Dan Seol-young suggested, “Why not practice with your sword?”

“I’ve decided to only practice a little at set times. Namgung Myung said that when you’re stuck, sometimes it’s helpful to step back and clear your mind.”

“What about poison arts?”

“I can’t train under the current conditions.”

Though Tang Mujin felt frustrated by the situation, Dan Seol-young seemed rather pleased.

“Well, it’s good for you to take a break. Spend some time with Ying and let her see her dad’s face.”

Tang Mujin chuckled and snapped another twig, tossing it. It flew even faster, striking the wall again.

Tang Ying watched with curiosity, then held out her chubby little hand to Tang Mujin.

“Daddy, me too!”

Tang Mujin obliged his daughter’s simple request.

He broke a twig into a smaller piece and handed it to Tang Ying, who mimicked him and tossed it.

But with the strength of a three-year-old, the twig barely flew a couple of steps before dropping to the ground.

“Haha!”

Tang Mujin laughed, and Tang Ying, pouting, crouched down to pick up a small pebble that fit snugly in her palm.

Determined to show her true skill, Tang Ying threw the pebble.

It flew a bit farther than the twig, but still not far enough to wipe the smile off Tang Mujin’s face.

Yet Tang Ying looked at him with wide eyes, expecting praise.

“How was that?”

Tang Mujin lifted her up with a grin.

“Who did you take after to be so strong already? You’re all grown up!”

Tang Ying giggled, delighted by the praise and the thrill of being lifted by her father.

But Dan Seol-young, watching from the side, wore a slightly bemused expression.

“Playing with twigs and pebbles when you finally have time to spend with your daughter? That’s not much of a game.”

“Why? What more do we need?”

“If you’re going to play, do it properly. Come on, follow me.”

Danseryeong led Dang Mujin to a small building next to the annex.

The building had been constructed while Dang Mujin was away. It wasn’t particularly large, and the door was barred, so he had never been inside. He hadn’t been particularly interested, either. He assumed it was just one of the many storage sheds that had sprung up as the Dang family estate expanded and more people took up residence.

His assumption seemed reasonable enough, given the pile of miscellaneous items, including wooden blocks, stacked beside the door.

“Come in.”

But when Danseryeong opened the door, the scene that unfolded was quite different from what he had expected. It wasn’t a storage shed; it was a workshop.

During a brief period in Luoyang, Danseryeong had worked under a carpenter. Later, through a twist of fate, he had crafted Namgung Myeong’s prosthetic hand in that very workshop.

The sight before them now was a perfect replica of that carpenter’s workshop.

Dang Mujin looked around slowly, taking it all in. “Wow, when did you put this together?”

“It doesn’t take long to build something like this. Not that I built it myself, mind you…”

Danseryeong approached a corner of the workshop, crouched down, and picked up a large block of wood.

Dang Mujin hurried over, surprised. “Let me take that for you.”

“No, it’s fine. Just step aside.”

“Are you sure? It looks heavy.”

“I’m the type who can’t stand still. Lately, whenever I try to move even a little, people stop me, and that’s more frustrating.”

True to his word, Danseryeong’s face was more animated than usual as he picked up a small knife and chisel.

He began to carve the block of paulownia wood, speaking as he worked. “After being away for so long, I finally get to spend time with my child. I want to make sure it’s memorable. When Yeong grows up, I want them to remember playing with their dad.”

Even as he spoke, his hands never stopped moving. He shaved the block down to about the thickness of a finger, then rounded the edges, shaping it into something like a flattened, round cake.

Though it seemed he might do more, Danseryeong set down his tools and tossed the wooden disc to Dang Mujin.

The disc flew gracefully through the air, landing neatly in Dang Mujin’s hand.

“Give it a throw.”

Dang Mujin tossed the disc back to Danseryeong. Despite not putting much force into it, the disc flew faster and more elegantly than expected, brushing past Danseryeong’s ear.

It wasn’t dangerous, but Danseryeong playfully grumbled, “Why’d you throw it so hard?”

“Sorry, I didn’t think it would fly that well.”

“Of course it flies well; that’s what it’s made for.”

Satisfied with Dang Mujin’s reaction, Danseryeong smiled contentedly. “Think Yeong will be able to throw it far?”

“From the annex porch, they could probably reach the garden wall.”

“Great. Just make sure Yeong doesn’t get hurt, and have fun together.”

Danseryeong placed the remaining wood blocks on the floor and began tidying up the tools.

Dang Mujin’s mind drifted back to a recent memory.

When he had thrown a stick with his inner strength, it had shot straight and fast like an arrow. But when Dangyeong had thrown it, it had wobbled in an arc before dropping to the ground.

Despite being heavier, a stone had flown farther than the stick.

What determined how far an object could be thrown with the same force?

The first thought was that lighter objects could be thrown farther, while heavier ones couldn’t. But that wasn’t always true. Hadn’t Dangyeong thrown a heavier stone farther than the stick?

‘Could it be the shape?’

But that wasn’t a definitive answer either. Arrows, shaped like sticks, flew much farther than stones.

Even if you used the strength of a bowstring to throw a stone, it wouldn’t fly as fast or as far as an arrow.

‘Maybe there’s an ideal shape, and each shape requires a different technique?’

It was an obvious thought, yet one Dang Mujin had never considered before.

As he stood there, Danseryeong, having finished tidying up, asked, “What are you doing?”

“Just a moment.”

Dang Mujin picked up the tools Danseryeong had put away and began carving another wooden disc.

He made discs similar to the first one, some thin, some thick, some with varying thicknesses.

He threw the wooden discs. Despite using the same force, they traveled different distances, at different speeds, and even followed different trajectories.

Next, he carved wooden boards into various shapes: triangles, squares, hexagons, octagons. Some were long on one side, others resembled thin sticks.

Danseryeong watched, understanding what Dang Mujin was doing, and didn’t rush him.

Dang Mujin threw the various wooden shapes. Again, the force required, the speed, and the results varied.

More intriguingly, even the same object yielded different results depending on how it was thrown.

Just as the power of a sword varied with the technique, so did the outcome of throwing the same object.

Dang Mujin recalled the art of Yudogong, a skill he had learned long ago at the Namgung family, only to forget over time.

Danseryeong’s expression grew serious.

Until now, Danseryeong had thought the uniqueness of a throwing weapon lay in its inherent special qualities.

The weapons Danseryeong crafted displayed the same power in anyone’s hands. The Heavenly King’s Needle and the Rainstorm Flower Needle were such examples.

The key was how much power could be imbued in the weapon.

But the disc in Dang Mujin’s hand was different.

A simple, elegant throwing weapon, its power varied with the user’s skill.

The disc Danseryeong had crafted opened up a world of possibilities for Dang Mujin.

‘This is deep. It might be more than just a simple trick.’

Dang Mujin, entranced, continued to toy with the disc.