The Namsan Sect — Training Upon Training (2)
A dialect slipped out.
In an instant, his momentum collapsed.
Jimin gave a short, crooked smile.
The fellow was a lay disciple of Huashan (華山).
Not a blood enemy of Cheonsan,
but the kind who never yielded to one another.
Huashan called Cheonsan bumpkins.
Cheonsan called Huashan rotten lot.
The name did not come from Cheonsan's location.
It referred to the temperament of its people—
blunt in worldly matters, stubborn to the core.
Dawn training began.
It was the hour when the energy of the earth was most distinct.
Soun had them assume the chamjeong stance.
After allowing their breath to settle, he continued with Baduanjin (八段錦).
The movements were like calisthenics everyone knew.
Nothing about them was difficult.
Yet in a single day, differences between people had grown clear.
Those who had gained insight had advanced far ahead.
Their bodies loosened with supple ease.
Their breathing deepened and grew firm.
Time gains no meaning simply by being long.
What matters is not duration, but the moment of attainment.
Only when one touches that instant does accumulation truly begin.
A single brief realization alters how the body moves
and even changes the direction of thought.
From there, Soun separated another group and had them practice energy cultivation.
Those who could manage it were gathered first and bound into a cultivation group.
What Soun did was remove and sort.
Distinguishing and selecting was his primary work.
He observed closely and picked out those whose study was ripening, one by one.
"What's your name?"
"Wang Pal."
"A good name. Step over here. Not there—continue from that spot instead."
"Thank you."
It was not Bidan.
Sogyo grumbled.
His own name was always spoken with a trace of mockery,
yet this ridiculous name, Wang Pal, was called good.
It sounded like discrimination.
Seeing someone who had stood beside him move up just one place was enough to irritate him.
Hearing that his name was praised made it worse.
Soun had chosen based on effort and progress.
He respected that alone.
But that was not how it sounded to Sogyo.
"With Baduanjin, cultivating energy takes too long…"
"Mutter, mutter…"
Perhaps his pride was twisted; Sogyo kept mumbling to himself.
"That method takes forever…"
He knew it himself.
He knew the training was painfully slow.
Soun passed without a word.
Jimin did not.
"Ten-year-old, then why didn't you go learn some fast-track demonic art somewhere else instead of coming here?"
She was particularly sharp toward Sogyo.
The words from her mouth were rough.
Profanity that did not suit her fine face.
It felt as if her beauty scraped itself away.
But Jimin was not a sheltered lady who weighed the harmony of face and speech.
She did not hide the tone she had picked up in the jianghu.
She did not hesitate to speak like a rogue.
She was strong.
A woman who did not remain neatly within boundaries.
"I misspoke."
When the morning session that opened Namsan ended,
Soun divided them again.
He sorted, moved, selected, and assigned further study.
That was the entirety of their day's training.
If fortune favored them, they could change positions.
Most would remain where they were.
Some were sent down the mountain to buy food.
They were to use the instruction fees collected the previous day.
Small tents were needed as well.
Including Daedo and Sodo, several were sent down.
Only then did Soun take a brief breath.