63.how good it would be if there were a way to live without greed,
"Yes, Hee-ya… I found myself thinking how good it would be if there were a way to live without greed, and to be free from the greed of others. If one lived here, perhaps that would be possible. That must be why powerless common folk wander, retreat into the mountains, some becoming bandits, others cultivating burnt fields. There, perhaps, they can be free from the winds of the world…"
"Shall we truly go into the mountains? I will inquire about a nearby stronghold."
"Yes… I truly wish to do so. A body received from one's parents is not something one can dispose of at will. And yet, if one must live, would Henan be safe? Going to Henan might bring hardship upon family and household… And if we do not go, what then…"
"I heard this before we departed. An official decree was proclaimed among the gathered court ministers—your estate in Henan has been granted a stipend of two thousand seok, and your title as Great General has been elevated. Could it be that those pursuing you are not the same faction?"
"They may not be of the same faction, but their motives will be the same. They will kill me, earn the Emperor's favor, and then leverage that favor to gain something. Politics should be a matter of give and take, adjusting the interests of different groups through dialogue and compromise. Yet His Majesty's attention is tilted toward survival rather than governance, and so all just laws collapse… Hee-ya, let us change direction. This does not seem the right path."
"Where shall I escort you?"
"Yes… I would like to spend my old age gazing upon a lake formed from melted snow on the high plateau of the snow-covered Tian Mountains. Perhaps leaving is the correct answer. Even this wandering through the rivers and lakes—perhaps it, too, is because of lingering desire within my heart. When we eat and rest with comrades and cast off greed, life is this abundant… We have lived foolishly."
The Great General's wistful gaze settled on Soun, swaying in the distance.
The boy seemed already drunk from a single cup.
The skin around his eyes was flushed, his focus blurred.
Shaking his head rapidly from side to side did not restore clarity.
"That boy truly must be drinking for the first time, ha ha."
They ate and talked until the night deepened, sharing the meat.
As the gathering slowly dispersed, Soun dragged his tired body toward the mountainside.
But there was no space.
In the mountains there was scarcely room to move.
His face, flushed red from the liquor, looked even more youthful.
Fifteen—the age when one sets one's resolve.
He searched here and there for an open clearing, rummaging about, but realizing it was futile, he changed his method.
He regarded the densely standing trees as enemies and drew his sword.
It was wholly different from swinging into empty space; the entire forest blocked his view.
Without assuming a formal stance, he imagined a form that could strike a single tree and pass through, murmured the incantation under his breath, and advanced.
He did not truly strike the tree, only feigned it and passed by.
Before another tree that blocked him closely, he thrust the sword in, recited the formula, and turned his body.
When he recited the formula, breath arose automatically.
As he turned and extended his leg, he nearly collided with the tree before him.
Stepping along a retreating path, he lifted his sword upward.
The blade cut into the tree.
The massive trunk was severed at its base, and the great body slowly collapsed sideways, sweeping its surroundings with a thunderous crash.
Thinking of the forest as people, breathing, imagining sword strikes, attacking and moving—he began to see a new boundary.
This resembled real combat more closely.
Just as in battle, when distance closes at unwanted moments and an enemy's blade flies from an unforeseen angle, branches jabbed toward his face.
His breathing grew ragged.
He calmed his mind and began again.
He regarded countless branches as enemy blades, dodging and parrying while advancing.
As his breathing stabilized and strength surged, his movements grew precise.
Rather than tracing fixed forms in sequence, he shaped his technique according to the situation before him, practicing fitting attacks and defenses.
It was after about one shi-chen that he realized this terrain was better for practice than flat ground.
A faint bluish aura rose again around Soun's body.
Power entered his sword intent.
There was no ear-splitting whistle of breaking air.
Instead, the blade grew lighter, sharper in angle, ravaging the trees between trunks like enemies.
Between breaths, an unknown force overflowed.
He focused his spirit, infused energy into the blade, and aligned Lee Hee's dominant sword form, the prefect's complete patterns and stances, and the breathing formula he chanted.
Different formulas, different movements—at some moment they were understood as one.
"It was one thing. It had always been one."
Sudden comprehension has the power to change a person.
Entrusting himself to the bluish energy gathering into his blade, he pushed forward toward the waist of an old larch that blocked his way, tracing a vast full circle like a great ocean wave.
There should have been a sharp crack and a rebound.
Instead, the semicircular strike released from his fingertips passed cleanly through.
"What—what is this?"
Drawing the blade inward and lifting it, he cut diagonally.
Again it passed through a tree.
But the diagonally cut trunk severed, its upper half sliding down and toppling.
Countless smaller branches struck other standing trees with a chaotic noise.
The first tree he had cut could not bear the weight of the adjacent trunk and finally fell completely.
It astonished even himself.
The energy raised from his dantian traveled through the large motion, up his arm, into the blade, and with that force he felled yet another massive tree.
Practice that once feigned dodging and striking enemies had turned into an act of felling whatever stood before him.
Soun did not stop.
Within a radius of some twenty jang, trees lay fallen.
The sentry on watch came running uphill.
He had heard the sound of trees crashing and rushed over.
And they saw it.
A small boy with a small sword cutting down trees decades old—an unbelievable sight.
"Scholar Yu… it's Scholar Yu."
One whispered softly.
It was not something requiring report, nor a dangerous situation, but one of them ran back down to inform those who would be curious below.
Only when the two men approached did Soun sense their presence and halt.
Their astonishment was immense.
"Was… was all this done by Scholar Yu?"
The dense woodland had become a plain.
The cut surfaces were smooth as a razor.
They had been severed in a single stroke.
"I have caused needless noise in the middle of the night. I apologize. That was not my intention. It simply… happened as I continued. I am sorry. You must have been startled while standing watch."
"No, no, Scholar Yu…"
The word "master" came to their minds.
A word dividing this side of the hill from the other.
A master.
One who stands in a different realm of martial attainment.
Not someone merely slightly faster, nor someone simply better at swordplay.
There could be many expressions—but the Soun they saw now was someone who had stepped into another realm.
"Wow, Scholar Yu! You held the feast here after all…"
"You could build a log house with this."
Soun turned and looked back.
So focused had he been, striking one cut at a time, that dozens—hundreds—of trees had fallen.
"Ha…"
He drew a long breath.
The sword was already sheathed.