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Chapter 9
‘Even if Father didn’t trust me, he trusted my wife.’
The only reason he’d been able to show what he was capable of was because of his father’s full support. They say a father-in-law’s love for his daughter-in-law often borders on overreach, and this was proof.
Crunch!
Yu-jin took a bite of the roasted rabbit and couldn’t help but be surprised by the crisp texture and the savory, slightly nutty flavor without the sweetness. She hadn’t expected much when Mujin, who had never really cooked before, said he’d prepared the meal. But this… this was shockingly good. So good, in fact, that it could fetch a decent price if sold.
“Dad, this is amazing! The best ever!”
“Oh, yeah? Eat up, Mi-joo.”
“You too, Dad! Eat lots!”
“What about you, Tae-jin? Not bad for your dad’s cooking, right?”
“Yeah.”
He wasn’t exactly a foodie, but even by his standards, this was among the top meals he’d ever had. When he heard Dad was cooking, he had half a mind to skip dinner altogether.
“When did you learn to cook?”
“A man who’s loved must know how to cook. That’s what Confucius, Mencius, and Xunzi all said.”
“Really?”
“…Probably.”
Whether Confucius, who was often considered one of the worst husbands in history, had actually said that didn’t matter. Honestly, Mujin had no idea what was in the Four Books and Three Classics or the Five Relationships. He’d never even read them.
“Look forward to more. It’s not that I can’t cook—when I do, I go all in.”
“Daddy, are you a chef?”
“Call me the ‘head homemaker’ instead.”
“Head homemaker?”
“That’s right.”
Whether it made sense or not.
Those old sages who said a real man shouldn’t step into the kitchen out of fear it might affect his masculinity, Mujin cleanly ignored all of them. If it meant being loved by his wife, he was more than happy to do whatever it took. From now on, the number one priority in life was a happy home.
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for this family.”
“Pfffft~! What about martial arts?”
“You just don’t know—your dad’s martial arts are the best in the world. So don’t be shy. Walk proud.”
“But you got kicked out.”
“Ahem. I didn’t get kicked out—I stepped down willingly. So now I have more time to play with you guys.”
Tae-jin wished his dad held a cool, respectable title. But even at just three years old, he knew that ship had sailed. Watching his little sister beam happily beside him just made his young heart feel a bit... stifled.
“Don’t tease Daddy. He belongs to Mommy.”
“That’s right. I’m yours, dear.”
Before being a “cool dad” to his son and daughter, Mujin decided that tonight, he’d be the best husband to Yu-jin. If everything kept going this smoothly, he didn’t mind where things might lead.
“I wanna sleep with Daddy tonight!”
“…Hmph.”
“You don’t want to?”
“…Of course I do.”
The “smooth progression” could wait.
****
The firewood of Songho Sect never seemed to run out.
Piled up like mountains every day, no matter how much was used, there was always more. That was all thanks to Mujin’s overly enthusiastic efforts. The workload for the clan’s live-in workers had dropped significantly.
Ever since Mu-ho became heir to the Songho Sect, he found his older brother’s actions puzzling. Every morning, his brother would head into the mountains to gather firewood, behavior that felt completely out of character. Was he trying to atone for past mistakes? Trying to set a good example for the household?
But days turned into weeks, and then nearly a month, and still, he hadn’t stopped. Curious, Mu-ho kept an eye on the wood his brother brought back. It wasn’t ordinary at all. With each passing day, the firewood looked cleaner, straighter, cut with near-perfect precision.
‘He’s slicing it so cleanly along the grain.’
They say a master woodcutter only has to touch an axe to the tree for it to fall apart on its own, this was close.
His brother’s skill had clearly improved, and with it, Mu-ho’s curiosity.
Just how was he doing it?
Now that he thought about it, he never even took an axe with him. Just a carrying frame on his back, and still, he’d return with perfectly chopped wood.
So the next morning, Mu-ho secretly followed him. Keeping a distance, he tracked his brother’s trail.
Turns out, the place he gathered wood from wasn’t just far, it was very far. No matter how long he walked, the trail continued. He thought he’d arrived, but Mujin was still climbing into the deeper hills.
‘Still going?’
The pursuit wasn’t hard. His brother left behind plenty of traces. Even without advanced tracking skills, it was easy to follow. But as time passed, Mu-ho started to feel something strange. Even when he picked up the pace, he couldn’t catch sight of his brother.
‘What the...?’
This wasn’t normal.
Even with martial arts training, climbing unfamiliar mountain paths would take a toll on stamina. But Mujin was scaling the slopes quickly and effortlessly. Was he always this fit? Mu-ho distinctly remembered him struggling to perform even a hundred downward slashes with a sword.
‘Maybe it’s been too long since I last saw him train.’
He had no resentment toward his brother, but he was confident he had the upper hand in martial arts. Still, no matter how far he walked, he couldn’t catch up. A creeping feeling of unease began to take hold.
‘Where the hell is he even cutting this wood?’
Was it really necessary to go this far?
‘Man, he really came a long way.’
After climbing for a full hour, Mu-ho finally spotted his brother. He ducked behind the bushes to watch.
…Huh?
Instead of chopping wood, Mujin was sitting in the shade, taking a break. Considering how fast he’d climbed, it made sense. But even after quite a while, he showed no signs of moving.
‘That’s a lot of wood.’
Judging by the amount stacked on his back frame, it would take an entire day for even a skilled woodcutter to finish.
Half an hour passed. Still, Mujin was resting. No matter how he looked at it, none of this made sense.
‘How long’s he gonna sit there?’
As the clan’s heir, Mu-ho didn’t want to waste his time. He’d skipped his training to come out here, and his patience was running thin.
Was there really a point in watching him chop wood?
‘I should head back.’
Still, he was satisfied that his brother wasn’t getting into any trouble. Their family ties had been improving. His brother was greeting their parents regularly now. Maybe he’d been hoping for too much, and it was time to let that go.
“Ahh, that was a good rest. Time to really get started.”
Just as Mu-ho turned to leave, he froze. Mujin, who had been resting this whole time, finally stood up.
‘Wouldn’t make sense to come all the way here and leave without seeing it through.’
Mu-ho took a breath and steadied his mind. He still had no idea how his brother was splitting so much wood without even carrying an axe. Was he doing it with his bare hands? The mystery deepened.
“It’s hot. Maybe I’ll rest a bit more.”
And just like that, Mujin sat right back down in the shade like nothing happened. Mu-ho nearly choked on his own breath. This was… ridiculous. Completely unexpected.
Still, he figured his brother would get up and start chopping soon.
But time ticked on, endlessly.
‘He’s seriously not doing anything?’
Regret began to creep up on him like a slow fog. He’d never been called impatient, but this pointless waiting was seriously getting on his nerves.
‘I’m going home.’
He had finally made up his mind.
“Guess it’s time to get serious.”
Just as Mu-ho was preparing to leave, his brother Mujin stood up and began stretching. It looked like he was really about to begin. Now that he noticed, his brother’s body seemed different than before.
‘Was he always that well-built?’
The subtle muscular definition peeking out from beneath his clothes was extraordinary. But more than the muscle itself, what stood out was the balance of his physique. For a martial artist, physical balance is everything.
When the body is unbalanced, every movement requires constant correction, making it nearly impossible to execute techniques flawlessly. That’s why martial artists devote themselves to preserving a perfect equilibrium in their bodies.
And yet, true physical symmetry is rare. The closer one gets to perfect balance, the more effortlessly they can move, but actual perfection? That doesn’t exist.
“Ugh, suddenly I’m exhausted. Maybe I should rest a little longer. Overdid it yesterday, I guess.”
Just when Mu-ho felt an urge to observe more closely, he had to swallow his breath again. It was like Mujin would lie down the moment Mu-ho moved. Was he doing this on purpose?
‘No way…’
He had silenced his presence, hiding completely beyond the range of human perception. His brother shouldn’t be able to detect him at all.
It had to be a coincidence.
And yet, despite knowing that, Mu-ho found his brother oddly irritating today.
‘Forget it. I’m out.’
He no longer wanted to indulge his brother’s meaningless behavior. As expected, the moment he made that decision, his brother stood up again.
‘He’s just gonna lie down again, isn’t he?’
He turned, deciding not to bother anymore.
Swack! DU-DU-DU-DU-DU!
A chilling sensation swept across his back, followed by a tremendous boom that shook the forest.
Whip!
Spinning around, Mu-ho looked completely dumbfounded.
The massive tree that had been shading his brother collapsed to the ground. A tree so wide and sturdy that it would’ve taken hundreds of axe swings to bring it down, and yet, Mujin wasn’t even holding a weapon.
Mu-ho was frozen in disbelief, like a ghost had screamed in his ear.
‘One strike…?’
How was that even possible?
Maybe if he’d used internal energy to unleash a sword intent, but barehanded? That wasn’t something one could pull off casually. Even then, it should’ve taken dozens of blows.
And yet, his brother had done the impossible.
How?
None of it made sense.
Mu-ho found himself rooted in place, convincing himself he had to keep watching.
“What a perfect day to chop some wood.”
Mujin walked over to the fallen tree and began lopping off branches.
Whip! Whip!
With a few flicks of his hand, the limbs sliced off cleanly. He didn’t waste even the smallest twigs, instead, he gathered them into a neat pile. The thick trunk now stood bare and gleaming.
Standing at the end of the log, Mujin raised his hand.
Then brought it down.
So simple.
Swack. DEENG-GANG!
The fallen tree, easily five spans wide, split clean through again, smoothly and effortlessly. This wasn’t the same casual chopping motion he used earlier. This was something refined, lethal, almost mystical. And it wasn’t like the wood had rotted or was weakened.
Gasp.
Mu-ho stood slack-jawed.
He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His brother had merely struck with his hand, and yet full-length logs were forming as if by magic.
That thick, long, dense tree was being sliced like tofu.
And then, what followed was even more astonishing.
Mujin began measuring and splitting the logs with the precision of a ruler. Each piece of firewood landed perfectly into the stack on his back frame. It was like watching a divine performance. Even someone trying their hardest wouldn’t manage such perfection.
Thunk!
The entire tree had been chopped in less than a moment. Not even a full minute. Mu-ho was so stunned he couldn’t speak.
Was this a dream? Or was the man standing before him really his brother? Nothing about this matched the world he knew.
Wait—
Mujin, having just finished, was now looking directly at him.
And it was no coincidence.
Was he about to chop him next?
Sighhh…
Mu-ho let out a long, hollow breath. There was no way his brother would smile like that if he wasn’t already aware of him.
Rustle.
He pushed through the undergrowth and stepped into the clearing.
“…How long have you known?”
“From the beginning.”
“You knew and didn’t say anything? Why?”
“You were hilarious to watch.”
Mu-ho felt a spike of anger rise, but let it go for now. More important was understanding what was happening. His brother wasn’t the man he used to be. People grow after hardship, sure—but this? This wasn’t just growth. It was a transformation.
“How’d you know I was there?”
“Who else would trail behind me from the crack of dawn? Brought back memories. You were pretty cute back then.”
When they were younger, Mu-ho had always followed his brother around. No matter where he went, he would cling to him, crying if he disappeared for even a moment. He remembered how he had to buy candy and toys just to calm him down.
‘It’s not like we’re that far apart in age…!’
Mu-ho felt a lump rise in his throat at being treated like a child, but he kept it in. Showing it would feel like conceding.
“…And what the hell was that just now?”
“What? Chopping firewood.”
“How?!”
“Like this.”
Whip! DEENG-GANG!
With just a flick of the wrist, the tree split again, perfectly aligned with the grain. Mu-ho shivered from head to toe. It wasn’t just some neat trick. It was a mastery—sword intent manifesting without a sword.
But was it even fair to call it sword intent? A strange force rippled around Mujin’s hand.
“You’ve got sharp instincts. I didn’t think you’d notice so quickly.”
“You didn’t even use internal energy.”
“You need to use inner strength to chop firewood? Just follow the flow.”
“You make it sound so easy.”
“Of course it’s not.”
Follow the flow.
Sounds simple enough. But could you always perceive that flow so clearly? Could anyone truly sense the exact alignment of energy and strike with perfect precision?
If it were really that easy, the world would be overflowing with master swordsmen striding through the martial world like legends.
Even people, and objects, possess different flows depending on the time, place, and circumstance.
---The End Of The Chapter---
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