Chapter 381. Youngwoo Focuses on Cultivation 3
From the main temple not far away came the sound of a bell.
In a temple, even a bell had to be understood properly.
He had to know what that particular sound meant.
Otherwise he might miss mealtime.
Or overlook something important in the schedule he needed for cultivation.
Youngwoo found even that troublesome.
Dawn had come, and morning service had probably already ended.
The call for the morning meal came from a smaller bell.
Even from a distance, its sound was so clear it almost seemed within reach.
Another day has passed.
Youngwoo remained seated without moving.
Before long, pale morning light began to seep through the paper doors.
He had been sitting for a long time, yet it felt as though the hours had passed between one breath and the next.
Time was relative anyway.
There was nothing wrong with letting an instant pass without anything happening.
The body sat.
Breath came and went.
The mind traced something deep within.
That alone was enough to fill the time.
A bell sounded again from somewhere below.
The same bell.
This time, for some reason, it sounded like someone impatiently urging along something that simply would not cooperate.
Not long afterward, the novice came running.
"Sir."
"What is it?"
"It is time for the morning meal."
"I'm not hungry."
The novice hesitated, then spoke carefully.
"You skipped supper yesterday as well. The wonju is worried."
Youngwoo narrowed his eyes.
"What sort of temple meddles this much in other people's affairs? Isn't leaving a man alone whether he eats or not supposed to be a virtue?"
"But still…"
"If I need food, I'll find something myself."
The novice bowed his head.
"I shall tell him so."
"Please do."
When the winter sun had climbed higher, Youngwoo went out into the courtyard and practiced with his sword.
He swung the short cavalry hwando this way and that, but without much enthusiasm.
That was no longer what mattered most.
He simply could not sit all day, so from time to time he inserted periods of walking meditation and sword practice between his sessions.
Even without consciously wrapping the blade in internal power, fine strands of pale energy leaked from its surface like threads.
This was what they called geomsa—sword threads.
Geomsa (劍絲): threadlike strands of energy extending from a sword, appearing before sword qi spreads into a broader blade-light or cutting wind; a fine, sharp manifestation of concentrated sword energy.
The sword threads gathered together, thickening until they became silver sword qi that stretched outward from the blade.
When Youngwoo focused a little more, a powerful current formed around the sword qi, long and rounded like a sheath of invisible force.
Sword gang.
Youngwoo sprang lightly into the air and landed on the snow.
The instant his toes touched the ground, the hwando swept horizontally in a long arc.
Snow rose everywhere around him, nearly a jang into the air.
Snow piled across the courtyard.
Snow resting on the ends of branches.
Even the fine powder lying quietly along the edges of the yard seemed to lift all at once.
Then it drifted slowly back down.
It was an illusion as though space itself had moved.
All the white light that made up the world seemed to surge upward into the air, only to return gently to its place.
No one saw it.
Youngwoo stopped the form, sheathed the hwando, and sat down on the wooden porch.
It was a bitterly cold morning, his breath spreading white before his face.
As he sat there quietly, the novice returned to check the fire.
The boy stirred through the furnace, gathered the surviving embers, and added fresh wood.
The dry logs caught with soft popping sounds.
The novice rubbed his hands together as he stood.
"Brr. It's cold, sir."
"I'm not some old man. How many years apart can we possibly be?"
"You are still an honored guest. I put fresh wood in. It should last the day. You're not cold, are you?"
"Thanks to you."
The novice hesitated at the doorway.
"Will you skip lunch as well?"
"I'll see."
The boy asked no more and withdrew.
Still seated on the porch, Youngwoo entered meditation again.
Cold and sunlight shared the same space.
The air was sharp enough to sting his ears, yet the sunlight entering beneath the eaves was clear and bright.
The cold and light touched him together, sharpening his awareness.
With a single breath, the cold retreated.
Qi completed one full circuit through his body and raised warmth from within.
The warm current began in his lower abdomen, passed through his waist, climbed along his spine, and spread evenly into his shoulders, arms, fingertips, and toes.
The cold air remained unchanged.
His body simply became quietly warm within it.
Time passed without measure.
With each long breath, the shadow of the sun shifted another section across the ground.
When the sun reached its highest point, the novice came again.
Even at midday, the winter sun hung low enough to offer little warmth.
"Lunch."
Youngwoo opened his eyes.
"What? Already? Do you people do nothing but eat around here?"
In the army, he had spent his days waiting for mealtimes.
At the temple, time seemed to pass even faster.
He briefly wondered whether he ought to make some sort of clock, then looked around the courtyard instead.
"I brought it here."
"Hm. Leave it there."
"Yes. But you have to eat this one."
"All right."
Youngwoo waited until the novice had gone, then looked at the meal.
Rice balls.
Beans were mixed into the rice, and there was a faintly savory fragrance, perhaps from sesame oil.
Still seated on the porch, Youngwoo bit into one of them.
A few bites and it was gone.
He had survived another day.
He went back into the courtyard and practiced his sword again.
It was not good to sit immediately after eating.
Lying down was no better.
He slowly walked a circuit of the yard, then looked at the footprints he had left in the snow.
They formed a narrow line connecting the inside and outside of the little hall.
Following them, he found a small well.
This was not a region especially rich in water, yet clear water filled the well almost close enough to reach by hand.
Since the opportunity was there, Youngwoo crouched beside it, washed his hands, and splashed water over his face.
The cold bit into his skin.
The moment the water touched his face, it felt as though even his soul had been chilled clean.
Youngwoo flinched without meaning to.
At that exact moment, the snow piled around him seemed to flinch as well.
Snow slid from the eaves and branches in a sudden rush.
White powder scattered through the air before settling quietly again.
When his qi moved, the space around him moved with it.