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Chapter 13
Mu-ho didn’t particularly feel like meeting any women right now. Ever since five years ago, he had redefined his swordsmanship and carved out a new level of mastery. Even so, he hadn’t come close to reaching the level of his older brother. He couldn’t keep living in his shadow like this.
‘I can’t be getting beat up even when I’m old!’
At the very least, he had to match him, no, he had to be able to block him somehow. Right now, he was desperate. Every time he got hit, it felt new and more painful.
People said pain builds strength and character, but at this rate, he felt like he’d be crippled before he ever got stronger.
“Ah, I seem to have interrupted. Go ahead and continue.”
“Take care, Elder.”
Elder Kang exited the training hall and stepped into the inner court. He watched the ever-growing talents of the sect’s successors with pride, but he hadn’t lost his competitive spirit. He had to prove with his sword that age was nothing but a number.
‘I won’t be treated like some washed-up old man left to rot in the backroom.’
After his match with the young sect leader, he’d gained a new insight and elevated his swordsmanship by more than a step. Since that day, he had forsaken rest and meals to temper his blade. One day, the world would know: the old warrior had not faded.
“Granduncle, where are you headed?”
“You’re still the same, I see.”
“I have to be. That’s the only way the sect stays safe.”
“Even so, as a descendant of the Sword Clan, forgetting the sword would be a mistake.”
It was Mujin, returning from his errands with a backload full of firewood.
Elder Kang gazed at him calmly. But deep down, a hint of dissatisfaction lingered in his expression.
Huh?
He’d heard Mujin had been chopping wood since five years ago.
That had been his declaration to step down from inheriting the sect and live a humble life. Elder Kang had expected it to last a week, maybe a month at best. A resolution broken in three days—that’s what he’d hoped for. But now, five years had passed, and the sect had a surplus of firewood.
‘Why is there so much of it?’
Saying he brought a load full of it would be an understatement. The pile was so massive, one had to tilt their head back just to take it all in.
A single log might not weigh much, but stacked like that? It had to be at least 480 kilograms. Even ten grown men would feel the weight.
‘He’s not even straining?’
For the first time, Elder Kang took a closer look at Mujin, whom he had often dismissed in passing. This firewood wasn’t from the nearby mountain. The wood type was different. He must’ve gotten it from a mountain farther away. That meant more distance, more effort. And yet, after carrying that weight all the way back to the sect, not a single bead of sweat—his skin was smooth and dry.
“Isn’t that heavy?”
“Doesn’t everyone carry this much? You could lift it too, Granduncle.”
“...True.”
He probably could, if asked to.
But not him.
Mujin was naturally lazy and unmotivated. He’d never trained seriously either. And yet, he answered so nonchalantly, it rubbed Elder Kang the wrong way.
He wasn’t some born genius, either.
Even so, for the sake of the sect’s future, Mujin had willingly given up his position and stepped away from the frontlines. Elder Kang hadn’t said anything all this time because he knew how difficult that decision was. Ironically, his doing nothing had actually helped the sect.
“Still, you’re the Sect Leader’s eldest son. At a time when you should be setting an example, doing menial chores like this—how is that appropriate?”
“If I don’t do them, someone else in the sect will have to. That’d be a waste of manpower. I’m quite satisfied with my role. The side income’s pretty nice, too.”
He was genuinely satisfied with his job. The ease and confidence radiating from Mujin left a bitter taste in Elder Kang’s mouth.
This wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go. Somehow, it kept veering off course. Honestly, things were fine as they were.
Even the Sect Leader hadn’t asked for more. He’d told Elder Kang that he’d handed things off to his brother after long deliberation.
Mujin picking up the sword again and involving himself in sect affairs wouldn’t help Mu-ho at all. No matter the reason, Mujin was the eldest son—the original heir. If he re-entered the picture, he could end up acting in ways that went against Mu-ho’s wishes.
‘Still, it bugs me how easy he’s got it.’
And he finally realized why.
Everyone else was living busy lives. Led by Mo-Hu, they were all pushing themselves to help the sect flourish. But Mujin alone seemed relaxed. Time passed him by as he leisurely enjoyed the present.
A young man acting like he’d already attained enlightenment, of course that would get under the skin of a veteran like Elder Kang. Even he, despite his age, was still discovering new techniques and never skipped training.
What right did a brat have to slack off like this already?!
And yet… he had to admit it.
“You do seem to have plenty of free time.”
“...”
“Your younger brother spends every waking hour training with single-minded intensity. And you, as his older brother—how can you speak like that?”
“So what, are you saying I should start training again? Participate in the sect’s major events? If you want me to, I will. It’s not like I can’t.”
Trying to provoke him out of spite, Elder Kang was met with an unexpected eagerness. He was momentarily at a loss for words.
“Uh… well, there’s no need to be that enthusiastic about it.”
“Glad to hear that. Honestly, if you’d said I had to, I’d have been seriously annoyed.”
“Annoyed?! We’re talking about the sect’s important matters!”
“So should I do it, then?”
“That’s not what I meant…!”
When Mujin said he’d take part in sect affairs, Elder Kang immediately regretted his words. This wasn’t how the conversation was supposed to go. And yet, Mujin was leading it completely.
There was a reason Elder Kang felt so powerless. Mujin’s absence alone was a kind of help.
Even if Mujin lacked ability, his wife more than made up for it. She had contributed immensely to the sect, especially in managing all external affairs and financial responsibilities. Thanks to her, the sect’s finances were stronger than ever.
‘Still, I can’t figure it out.’
Baek Yu-jin, Mujin’s wife, who had taken up the role of Chief Steward, was a talent wasted on being born a woman2. She was indispensable to the sect. And yet, Elder Kang still couldn’t understand why such an incredible woman had chosen to marry Mujin.
Despite all the damage he had caused the sect, this remained one of the main reasons they let him be.
‘Even so… he’s got it way too easy.’
Youth, once gone, never returns.
And if you don’t live that time well, you’re bound to regret it as you grow older.
Even if Mujin had matured compared to the past, he was still a descendant of the Sword Clan. He ought to set an example for others, yet being a woodcutter just didn’t quite suit that role.
“Do you know the Young Dragon Tournament is coming up soon?”
“Oh, really?”
“Tae-jin is participating this time. And yet you’re this indifferent?”
“Isn’t that just a kids’ tournament?”
“Ahem! It’s a tournament hosted by the Namgung Clan.”
“Ah, is that so.”
To Mujin, whether it was the Namgung Clan or the Shaolin Sect, none of it mattered.
If Elder Kang hadn’t brought it up, he wouldn’t even have known about the Young Dragon Tournament.
To him, it was just some scrappy event where a bunch of snot-nosed kids went at it.
The tournament did impose an age limit, between ten and sixteen, to level the playing field, but still, they were just kids. Kids grew at unpredictable paces. Just because someone was ahead now didn’t guarantee they’d stay ahead in the future.
“Just makes them cocky.”
A kid who excelled too early could easily get a swelled head and start slacking in training.
It was better to wait until they were more developed, then throw them into real battles to gain practical experience.
Not that he was in a position to object anyway.
Back in the day, he would’ve raised a fuss demanding to participate.
And in fact, he had.
Back then, he hadn’t even made it past the first preliminary round.
He’d been eliminated early, then drowned his sorrows in alcohol.
All he remembered now was the drinking binge that followed.
He didn’t try to recall the rest; whatever was worth remembering would resurface on its own.
“Tae-jin will be a pillar of the sect someday. You should be guiding him properly.”
“At that age, as long as they eat well and run around, they grow like weeds! Look at me.”
‘He shouldn’t take after you.’
What a dangerous thing to say.
‘Just don’t be like him.’
Mujin flexed his biceps with a grin.
Elder Kang felt a vein throb in his forehead.
Mujin’s carefree attitude made the elder’s irritation stack like a tower.
But at the same time, he felt something strange.
Back in the day, Mujin had avoided him like the plague.
If their eyes even met, the kid would immediately flee.
But now?
Not only was he not avoiding him, he was standing there grinning like a fool.
‘Is this brat making fun of me?!’
But when he studied his expression, it wasn’t that.
Mujin wasn’t mocking him, in fact, he didn’t seem all that interested in him at all.
And that somehow felt worse.
He started wondering if he was the one being ridiculous, grabbing a passing woodcutter to make a fuss over nothing.
‘Well… he’s not wrong, either.’
Tae-jin, Mujin’s son, was indeed a bright hope for the sect’s future.
Elder Kang secretly hoped the boy would shine in the tournament.
Compared to others his age, he already displayed remarkable talent.
‘As expected of Lady Baek.’
If Mujin were to interfere, it might actually do more harm than good.
Things were fine the way they were, with Chief Steward Baek managing things quietly in the background.
For a brief second, Elder Kang nearly made a blunder that could have ruined everything.
For the record, he desperately hoped Tae-jin didn’t take after his father.
Not now. Not ever.
The past version of Mujin had been a disaster, and the present one was a loafer.
How someone like Tae-jin could’ve come from someone like him was beyond comprehension.
So much for sayings like “Like father, like son,” or “Blood is thicker than water.”
“It’s already midday. Care to have lunch together?”
“No need.”
“Alright, then I’ll be off.”
“Ahem.”
He hadn’t actually planned on going.
But being invited and then so swiftly dismissed left Elder Kang standing dumbfounded.
He was the one who declined, and yet he was the one feeling insulted.
He didn’t know when the conversation had gone off the rails, but it had derailed hard.
And now it had become something he could no longer handle.
‘So now he’s just going to bulldoze through with shamelessness?’
But calling him a freeloader didn’t quite fit either.
The firewood Mujin brought was stacked neatly, like a small mountain.
He’d more than earned his meals.
Calling him a slacker would be an insult to woodcutters.
‘…He’s completely unfazed!’
As Elder Kang silently watched Mujin walk away, he tilted his head.
He expected him to at least wobble under the load—but no.
His posture was straight, not a trace of imbalance.
Even the stack of firewood on his back was perfectly aligned. That just made it more infuriating.
Mujin didn’t look back, but a smile was slowly spreading across his face.
‘Was Granduncle always this amusing?’
He hadn’t known.
Back then, he thought Elder Kang was scary, grumpy, and overbearing.
He nitpicked everything Mujin did and was so rigid that no one dared defy him.
Truthfully, he had been the scariest person in the entire sect.
But now?
Sure, he was still stern—but he was kind of… adorable.
Maybe that’s why teasing him was so fun.
‘Next time, let’s share a drink.’
I’ll send you off with a cup of soju.
Whether that would be a ticket to heaven—or hell—well… who could say?
---The End Of The Chapter---
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