Chapter 4
The true spirit of Kunlun.
He was the senior disciple of the sect leader, now serving as one of Kunlun’s elders.
Ordinarily, he should have succeeded as sect leader himself.
But rather than valuing martial prowess alone, the sect had chosen the one most capable of guiding others.
Thus, his junior brother had ascended as sect leader instead.
“It’s been a while, and you still look the same.”
“Thank you, Master Daoist. You seem as refined as ever yourself.”
After exchanging greetings with Sowol, Jinhyeon turned to meet Cheongun’s gaze.
“Nice to meet you. I am Jinhyeon.”
“Greetings, Master. My name is Cheongun.”
A polite child indeed — and his eyes told a story of their own.
‘This boy is no ordinary child.’
His stance was perfectly still, unwavering.
His eyes — calm to the point of emotionless — left a strong impression.
A child so composed… becomes extraordinary by that very calm.
“Introduce yourself, Jo-ya.”
“…Hey. I’m Joohyuk-jo.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Cheongun.”
Cheongun’s greeting was the same — firm, emotionless, and formal.
At first, it was impressive.
Now, it was unforgettable.
Clearly, this was not a child unaware of social boundaries.
He understood when and how to behave, and exactly what kind of situation he was in.
‘There’s a danjeon.’
Joohyuk-jo also possessed one — he’d formed it about a year ago.
But knowing the nature of Cheonui Sim-gong, Kunlun’s core cultivation method,
made that difference far more profound.
“Go ahead and get acquainted,” said Jinhyeon before leaving with Cheongjin and Sowol for a private talk.
Meanwhile, Cheongun turned and quietly exited the hall.
“Hey! Where are you going?”
“Come with me.”
The tone was different this time —
still emotionless, but stripped of courtesy.
Joohyuk-jo hesitated, then followed.
Their destination: the training yard.
“What’s this? You wanna spar or something?”
Joohyuk-jo was Jinhyeon’s only disciple, accepted despite his vow never to take one.
He believed his talent second to none.
To him, this was absurd.
That a boy from a family of merchants — ‘money bugs’ — dared to call him out?
“What’s wrong? You can’t feel any passion, money bug?”
At that insult, Cheongun simply stared.
“Crushing insects can be satisfying.”
“Such impiety for a Daoist.”
“So what? It’s just us here anyway.”
…Five years old, yet that arrogance.
‘The future of Kunlun looks bleak.’
Still, knowing Jinhyeon’s wisdom, it was clear why he took the boy in —
brilliance worth the trouble.
He must have hoped to temper that arrogance himself.
But people don’t change easily.
Step, step.
Cheongun walked over to the wooden weapon rack, picked up a practice sword, and threw it toward Joohyuk-jo.
It rolled once, stopping right at the boy’s feet.
Then Cheongun returned to stand before him.
“…You started this first.”
“Pick it up.”
Apparently, the insult was already forgotten.
Heh. Children.
A danjeon means nothing without control.
Especially at this age — they could barely swing a sword.
But arrogance, left unchecked, would only rot.
“I’ll let you make the first move.”
“How dare a money bug—!”
The stance was solid — a sign of good teaching.
But still… too raw.
The balance was off, emotion overpowering discipline.
Thwack.
One move was all it took.
“…Huh?”
The wooden sword slipped from Joohyuk-jo’s grip, falling to the floor.
He hadn’t even seen the strike.
Nothing fancy — just fast, efficient, and final.
He lunged to grab his sword again—
Crack!
Cheongun’s sword struck his hand.
“Ah!”
“May I pick it up?”
“What?”
“If you wish to hold your sword again, ask for permission.”
“You’re… insane—”
Crack.
This time the sword struck his neck.
Not hard — but enough to make breathing difficult.
‘Strange. He’s not even fast… yet I can’t dodge.’
“Kh—! Keuk!”
“Seems you’re not ready after all.”
Hmm.
His gaze was still insolent — seeing me like a pest, isn’t he?
‘Then, each offense deserves its own punishment.’
“For the head that conceived impious thoughts.”
Thwack!
“For the mouth that dared speak them.”
Thwack!
“For the feet that stepped forward with arrogance.”
Thud!
“And for the hands that reached for the sword without leave.”
Crack!
Each strike landed clean and measured.
The boy, wincing from the pain, collapsed in tears.
Still, Cheongun didn’t stop watching him.
‘A child, yes. But lessons must take root early.’
He had controlled his strength —
the boy’s hand only slightly fractured, nothing more.
“Uwaaah!!”
Even his crying was loud — a child with spirit.
Cheongun stood calmly, watching without pity.
The guards stood by — loyal to Cheongeumjang.
No one interfered.
Jinhyeon, Cheongjin, and Sowol must have heard the cries,
but none came running.
Because they knew — this was justice, not cruelty.
“Sa… Master! Waaah!”
He cried for his teacher — no one answered.
At first, he cried from pain.
Then from humiliation.
Then from disbelief that no one would save him.
But as silence lingered… the tears slowly stopped.
Step, step.
Cheongun walked closer.
“D-Don’t come near me!”
Thwack.
The wooden blade tapped his crown.
“Still, that gaze of yours displeases me.”
“You— damn—!”
Thwack.
“Again.”
“How dare you—!”
Thwack.
The sound of wooden strikes echoed — steady, rhythmic, merciless.
Meanwhile, inside—
“Master Jinhyeon.”
“My apologies. He’s still young — lacking spiritual discipline.”
“No, no. Children learn this way.”
“That’s right. They grow by clashing.”
“I’m grateful for your understanding.”
They paused briefly at the sound of thwack, thwack echoing from afar,
then resumed their talk as if nothing had happened.
When they finally stepped outside—
They froze.
“…Hm?”
“…What?”
“…Oh?”
Before them, an unexpected sight.
Joohyuk-jo sat defeated and bruised, while Cheongun stood calmly, unscathed.
“It seems the conversation was reversed.”
Jinhyeon could only give a wry smile.
“Children grow in strange ways. This will do him good.”
Indeed, Joohyuk-jo had always been troublesome.
But perhaps now, a little humility had been beaten into him.
“Frustration or envy — both can fuel growth.”
“Master!”
Johyuk-jo’s cry cut through the silence as the adults approached.
When Cheongun turned his gaze toward them, Joohyuk-jo finally noticed their presence.
The elders checked their respective pupils.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Then why did this happen?”
Cheongun looked at his father.
A silent stare — you already know why.
Jinhyeon understood.
“I will ensure my disciple learns discipline henceforth.”
“It’s fine. They’re still young.”
“Yes, young indeed.”
Their words polite — their meaning sharp.
Had he been older, it wouldn’t have been forgiven.
“Master… my hand—”
“Silence.”
“But—”
“I said silence!!”
It was the first time Joohyuk-jo had ever heard his master raise his voice.
He bowed his head at once.
“Forgive our shameful display. We’ll take our leave.”
“We understand. Take care.”
“I’ll stay with my son, so please don’t see us out.”
Sowol’s warm smile carried both sincerity and dismissal.
Jinhyeon could only bow and depart.
“You have disappointed me.”
“Master…”
“Could you have faced a demon cultist and called yourself righteous today?”
“But this is different—”
“No. Power makes no difference. We, too, owe our peace to Cheongeumjang’s wealth.”
Still far from enlightenment —
but at least humbled.
‘He’s been given the perfect stimulus. Now to ensure it becomes growth, not vengeance.’
“Your path is long, child.”
“…Yes, Master.”
When Kunlun’s guests had left, Cheongjin called his son aside with Sowol.
“My son.”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever wielded a sword before?”
“Yes.”
A surprising answer — he’d only just been given one.
“When?”
“Just now.”
“…I see.”
He was speechless — rare for the elder.
“Very well. Let’s eat.”
“Yes, Father.”
After Cheongun left, Sowol spoke quietly.
“Our son trains every dawn.”
“Trains?”
“Yes. I think he’s noticed the black elixir in the study — he must know what it’s for.”
“…I see. My father will hear of this today — he’ll give his orders.”
“He’ll be pleased, won’t he?”
“Of course. That’s the kind of man he is.”
And indeed — when Cheongin, the patriarch, heard the story,
he burst into thunderous laughter.
“Hahaha!!”
So loud it echoed beyond the manor walls.
Before dawn, he set out with two guards —
a rare journey for him, a man who seldom left his estate.
“It’s been a while since my last outing.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Too long spent drinking tea on the rooftop, I’d say.”
He was determined to gather the finest treasures.
As he prepared to leave—
“Grandfather.”
“Oh?”
It was Cheongun, waiting at the gate.
“How did you know I’d be leaving?”
“I was at the training yard this early.”
Ah, yes — that report.
“Won’t take long.”
“Be safe, Grandfather.”
The old man smiled at the boy’s concern.
‘For his sake, I’ll bring back every rare elixir I can find.’
Taechungdan? Jahasindan? Daehwandan?
Whatever the price, he would obtain them all.
