Chapter 10

Why? How come?

“I said get behind him!”

“I’m sorry, Martial Uncle.”

“I told you to roll like mad until you got behind him!”

“…Yes.”

“Argh, you little bastard. You had him! So damned slow…”

“I’m sorry.”

Anyone could see that Cheongsang had lost.

Yet Jinmu was laying into Cheongu instead.

Why?

“You got hit because you rushed your last attack. If that had been a real sword, you’d be dead.”

Ah!

Only then did Cheongsang understand why Jinmu was scolding Cheongu.

What if he had been holding a real sword? Just as Jinmu said, Cheongu would have died. With a sword buried in the back of his neck.

“You’re not so much as getting a look at meat for two days!”

“What? But I put up a good fight against Senior Brother Cheongsang…”

Cheongu looked ready to cry.

“Shut up! You let a fish I’d already caught get away!”

Huh? A fish he’d already caught?

Cheongsang didn’t understand what that meant, but he was still reeling.

He had lost to Cheongu.

All the pride he had built up seemed to crumble.

“Hey, you.”

“Yes?”

Caught off guard, Cheongsang answered before he knew it.

“My apologies. Cheongu lost. I thought he’d win…”

If he had, Jinmu could certainly have lured one more of them into corruption.

“No, I was the one…”

Even his manner of speaking had grown respectful without his noticing, but Jinmu wasn’t listening anymore. He was dragging Cheongu into the woods by the ear.

“What did I tell you? That you’d be fucking dead.”

His voice sent a chill through the air…

“Martial Uncleee…”

Cheongsang stood rooted to the spot, watching them disappear into the woods.

Suddenly, a disbelieving chuckle escaped him.

What an eccentric. This martial uncle younger than himself…

---

This was strange.

Why did he keep coming?

Jinmu frowned as he looked out over Haegeomji.

Thud! Bang! Thunk!

The sound of stakes being driven into the ground.

It was the fifteenth day of the repairs at Haegeomji.

Jinmu had thought Cheongsang would never come back, but he had returned with Cheongu the very next day.

Hmm. The boy had won, so surely he had nothing to gain here.

Then the next day, and the day after that. Cheongsang kept coming.

What was going on?

And on top of that…

“Martial Uncle, I’ve driven in all ten wooden stands.”

He had even become polite.

This bastard hadn’t been like that before, had he? Had Wudang’s food gone bad lately? He must have eaten something rotten…

He would even sidle up and whisper confidentially.

“Shall I get some meat ready?”

“…”

“I hear pheasant is delicious.”

He even gave him a creepy wink… Well, it was a good development, but still.

Jinmu gave Cheongsang a sullen look. A change this willing didn’t sit well with him. The corruption was good, but it brought him no joy.

“Y-yes. Go on…”

“Yes, Martial Uncle. I’ll catch some right away.”

Cheongsang bowed respectfully and went over to his junior martial brothers.

“Cheongu.”

“Yes, Senior Brother.”

They said children grew up fighting. These two had become quite close over the past few days.

“Get a fire going so Martial Uncle won’t have to trouble himself. I’ll hurry back with some pheasants.”

“Yes. Good hunting, Senior Brother.”

Bowing to Jinmu once more, Cheongsang darted into the woods.

“Damn it. What is this?”

Jinmu was beginning to get the distinct feeling that something was going wrong.

“Hmm… Mm… Haaah…”

As Jinmu rested his chin on his hand and furrowed his brow, Cheongu tilted his head from where he was building the fire.

“Martial Uncle, is something troubling you?”

“No, nothing much… Hmm…”

Jinmu stared at Cheongu.

“What is it?”

“No, it’s just… Hmm…”

No matter how he looked at him, the boy was an idiot.

Slow to learn martial arts, and utterly clueless.

There was no way Cheongsang was coming here because of him.

“Martial Uncle, if something’s troubling you, please tell me.”

Cheongu smiled brightly, his eyes disappearing into the flesh of his cheeks.

Yes. Of course that couldn’t be it.

A little later, Cheongsang returned with his hands full of pheasants.

Two in each hand.

Four in all.

“My hunting skills are lacking, so this is all I could catch, Martial Uncle. They’re terribly quick.”

Cheongsang grinned as he held out the pheasants, his face and hands covered in glorious(?) wounds.

What was that saying about a man who learned to steal late in life not noticing the dawn? A few tastes of meat, and he seemed determined to wipe out the pheasants altogether.

Jinmu gaped, taken aback, while an excited Cheongu skewered the pheasants on branches and held them over the fire.

“W-wait, at least pluck them first…”

You ignorant fool!

Before he could stop him, the pheasants vanished into the roaring flames.

What good was getting a taste for meat if you didn’t know how to bloody eat it?

The pheasants, which should have roasted golden brown, turned pitch-black.

He’d ruined the flavor of that precious meat. Everyone knew the best part was the crisp skin.

Yet Cheongu and Cheongsang looked perfectly happy as they each held a charred pheasant and gazed at Jinmu.

They were waiting for him to eat first.

They might not know how to roast meat, but at least they had manners.

Haaah…

With a sigh, Jinmu picked out some of the inner flesh that hadn’t burned and took a bite. Instantly, the pair fell on their food like ravenous demons.

Have you two been starving?

“It’s d-delicious!”

That’s burnt.

“What an incredible flavor!”

I said it’s burnt.

Faces plastered with soot, Cheongsang and Cheongu beamed at each other.

Feeding them meat had been all well and good, but he regretted not teaching them how to eat it.

“To think we get to taste something like this, all thanks to you, Martial Uncle. Thank you so much.”

“He’s right. I feel stronger since I started eating meat. I don’t seem to tire as quickly during training, either.”

What was this? Flattery?

Of course it was far better than a diet of vegetables that left you hungry again in no time, but that was impossible.

A few days of eating meat couldn’t bring about such a sudden change. It had to be all in their heads.

“There seems to be a good reason Cheongu’s gotten stronger. To think he lifted that.”

At Cheongsang’s words, Cheongu proudly squared his shoulders.

Whatever they said, Jinmu could only sigh. Fuck, this pheasant tasted like absolute shit.

The sight of those two with blackened faces and hands, their lips glistening with grease, was putting him off his food altogether.

“Um, Martial Uncle.”

After happily devouring the awful pheasant and clearing away every trace without being told, Cheongsang addressed him in a coaxing tone.

“What?”

“Well, about that weakness in the Flowing Cloud Sword from last time.”

“…”

“It’s been harder to correct than I expected…”

So this was it.

The reason this bastard kept coming back.

No wonder he’d been buttering him up all this time.

Jinmu chuckled deviously to himself.

Of course. The dim-witted, sunny Cheongu might have spawned another underling, but he could hardly raise one himself.

Still, one must never be too generous with rewards.

A morsel at a time, whenever they grew hungry. Just enough to take the edge off.

“Ah, did I eat too much meat? My mouth feels so dry. Some water would be nice.”

“Martial Uncle, shall I fetch you some water?”

Just as Jinmu thought the idiot Cheongu was butting in without a clue yet again, Cheongsang was already running off into the distance.

Fortunately, underling number two had some sense.

---

“What? Again? He’s broken the precepts!”

Myeonggong’s roar rang through Jeongdong Palace.

“Yes. I’ve been watching, and far from repairing the wooden stands at Haegeomji, he’s openly holding meat feasts.”

At Jinhye’s words, Myeonggong nodded as though it were nothing unusual.

“He’s been eating meat again?”

“Yes, Master.”

That prohibition had already been temporarily lifted.

Regardless of Myeonggong’s uncomfortable expression, Jinhye gave a meaningful smile.

“I know the elders showed leniency out of concern for Martial Uncle Myeongjin. But instead of being grateful, he’s misbehaving again. We must make an example of him and cure him of these habits.”

“W-well, yes, but…”

The sect leader wanted Wudang to change.

The elders were already discussing revisions to the remaining Ten Precepts at their meetings. They were trying to move forward, little by little, toward changing Wudang.

Myeonggong understood how Jinhye felt, but couldn’t hold someone accountable for breaking a prohibition that had been temporarily lifted.

Of course, despite the announcement, the other disciples were still observing it.

“Lately, even Cheongsang has fallen under his influence. Whenever it’s time for individual training, he goes to Haegeomji.”

“Even Cheongsang?”

“Yes. Ever since he lost to Cheongu…”

“Hmm? Who lost to whom?”

Myeonggong’s eyes widened.

“Cheongsang lost to Cheongu.”

“…”

Whatever things had been like in the past, there weren’t many second-generation disciples now.

And Myeonggong was the master of Yeongeun Palace, responsible for Wudang’s precepts. No one knew the current disciples better.

“Isn’t Cheongsang one of the best among the second generation?”

“Yes. That’s what makes this so serious. Such a promising boy, taken in by that Jinmu’s wiles. I fear this behavior may have a harmful influence on the other disciples. He must be punished…”

Jinhye brought up Jinmu’s offenses again, but Myeonggong heard only one thing.

“Good heavens. The least capable of all the Cheong generation who’ve received Taoist names defeated Cheongsang?”

“Yes!”

“H-how did he win?”

At Myeonggong’s curious question, Jinhye eagerly launched into the tale, like a fish back in water.

“That’s another problem. Apparently he made shameless use of the Lazy Donkey Roll to attack Cheongsang on his sword-hand side.”

“What! The L-Lazy Donkey Roll?”

“Yes! Has he no shame? The Lazy Donkey Roll, of all things. He must be punished.”

For a time, Myeonggong was too astonished to speak.

The Lazy Donkey Roll resembled a donkey rolling on the ground, and every member of the orthodox faction considered it disgraceful.

But the weaknesses of the Flowing Cloud Sword…

It was vulnerable to low attacks, and switching between attack and defense on the sword-hand side was awkward.

That was why those who learned the Flowing Cloud Sword used other martial arts to cover its weaknesses.

Of course, the first-generation disciples would have no reason to know those weaknesses.

Before they could even notice any difficulty with the Flowing Cloud Sword, they had already learned other arts that compensated for it.

Yet how had Jinmu known?

It would have been impossible without deep reflection on martial arts and keen insight. He could never have thought of it unless he had considered how to defeat the art before learning it.

Remarkable. Is that boy changing Wudang of his own accord, without anyone telling him to?

The more Myeonggong heard, the more astonishing these eccentric exploits became.

Myeongjin’s disciple.

Everyone already knew his kind nature from the time he had spent tending his master as an acolyte.

Myeonggong had thought that was all there was to him. Yet wasn’t his progress truly astounding?

“That boy…”

Myeonggong stroked that chin beard and smacked appreciative lips.

“Shall I summon Jinmu to the Disciplinary Office at once?”

“Hmm…”

Both “That boy” and “Hmm” carried approval, but Jinhye failed to notice any of it.

“Master?”

“…”

Made thoroughly uncomfortable by Jinhye’s constant talk of punishment, Myeonggong hastily changed the subject.

“Ah! Where is my head? Come to think of it, wasn’t the Cheongyang Merchant Guild due today?”

“Ah, yes. I was about to head down to Haegeomji shortly.”

“Yes, good. The sect leader is taking a great interest in this. We must see that they lack nothing during their visit.”

“Understood, Master. But about Jinmu’s punishment…”

“…Well, now. Hmm.”

“Master?”

“Ho ho. Well, now.”

Without even acknowledging Jinhye’s words, Myeonggong slowly rose and walked out of Yeongeun Palace, repeating, “Well, now.”

“…”