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It started when Cheong Myeong was fifteen years old.
It was a clear day, without a single cloud and the sun's rays shining brightly. A young man knelt in front of the mound of earth where a stone was embedded in the top, like a humble marker for the grave that no one else will visit, next to the small hut in which only two people had lived. The calloused hands that had been brought together to express a prayer for the deceased's future life were covered in scratches and dirt.
“Now I will head there. We'll see each other someday,” Cheong Myeong said goodbye, standing up after who knows how long, dragging his numb legs back to the hut to look for the only valuable belongings he still had, a change of clothes, meager funds, and a precious wooden sword that they had carved themselves.
When the door of the hut closed behind him, Cheong Myeong didn’t look back, nor did he wave his hand in farewell.
The best thing he could do for whoever would be left behind was to quickly reach Hwasan, be accepted as a disciple and return proudly wearing the plum blossom embroidered over his heart.
It was a long, long walk to the rugged temple.
“Hey, do you know which direction Hwasan is?”
"Of course. If you continue down that path…”
Cheong Myeong turned his head, following the civilian's hand pointing to the frequently used and perfectly safe road.
“Ah… Isn't there a road where the bandits could attack me?”
"Excuse me?"
“Yes, something a little darker and hillier.”
The man was perplexed.
“Kid, why would you want a road with bandits? Keep going there and you will reach your destination safely.”
“No…” Cheong Myeong sighed. “I'm running out of money, if I could just beat up some bandits and take their things, I would have enough money to get to Hwasan by sleeping in the best inns.”
“Look…” The man rummaged through the space in the sleeves of his robe, pulling out a few coins that he quickly handed to Cheong Myeong. “It isn’t much, but try not to get into trouble. You are still young, value your life a little more.”
Cheong Myeong looked at the insignificant amount that couldn’t buy a single steamed bun and thanked the man in a flat voice, leaving to find someone else to ask. Unfortunately, the heavens seemed to side with the bandits, so he had to content himself with catching fish the size of his fingers in the lake.
“I'm starving…” He muttered to himself, skewering several fish on the campfire. “It isn’t the same to eat in a restaurant. Grandpa, if only you could continue to support me…”
Wiping away a tear, Cheong Myeong chewed on the fish skewer.
“Phew, finally!”
The imposing gates of Hwasan stood before Cheong Myeong, a little cracked here and there, but still standing.
“It's been difficult, but I'm here.”
Even when he had almost been assaulted by a pair of beggar children, one of the few fights in which he had suffered damage due to the unexpected stone throwing while he was taking a nap lying on the sturdy branch of a tree.
Crazy children.
However, he had come this far.
“It's a little different. After all, the ravings of an old man cannot be trusted.”
Cheong Myeong's grandfather had spoken with a beaming smile of pride for hours and hours about the stories of the greatness of the Hwasan Sect and the techniques that Hwasan's own disciple had taught them. How many times had the same story been told from father to son for some generations until the facts were completely changed? Even if adults liked to exaggerate, this was a bit much.
“Looks like a beggar's hut!” Cheong Myeong put his hands on the head, losing all hope. “I might as well bring all the disciples to live around my house…”
No, he hadn't started yet so he shouldn't give up so soon...
Cheong Myeong had promised, in front of his dying grandfather, that he would be a proper Hwasan disciple and would stand out even among the sect's own members with the techniques teached by the Plum Blossom Sword Sovereign to his ancestor that had been passed down, not from anyone else.
So what is this?
It seems that Hwasan is in ruins and no one can make plum blossoms.
No, what does it matter to be the best of a ruined sect?
Cheong Myeong grumbled.
Aigoo.
It seems that he will have to grow this sect to accommodate the great Cheong Myeong-nim.
Jo Geol woke up in the middle of the night, eyes still closed, staggering to the door of his room to go out to relieve himself.
Then the ground moved and he stumbled.
“Ugh… What did I put there?”
Looking down, his toe had caught on a leg, and his body had landed on the soft fabric of a quilt.
Why the hell is anyone there!?
“Hiick!”.
The person turned around, revealing the familiar messy hair and pink eyes that looked at him sleepily.
“Sahyeong, what are you doing walking on others? That isn’t the appropriate behavior for a Taoist…”
“Cheong Myeong-ah, what are you doing sleeping on the floor?”
“Well, even I wasn't going to wake you up in the morning and get you out of your bed.”
"You were waiting for me?" Jo Geol smiled awkwardly. “If you wanted to go out and play together, you could have woken me up.”
“No, I just wanted to sleep here. The room is warmer with more people in it,” Cheong Myeong waved his hand, standing up. “Now that you're awake, I'll take the bed.”
“Hey, that's my bed!”
“Sahyeong will sleep down.”
“You come to my room and steal my bed…”
Jo Geol shed tears of injustice. Then he remembered the reason why he had woken up in the first place, so he gave up with a sigh and walked back to the door lazily. Cheong Myeong stuck his head out from under the covers, spying on Jo Geol.
“Sahyeong, don't tell me you're planning to leave because you're upset…”
By puffing out his cheeks like that, Cheong Myeong really looked like a child who didn't know how to express his emotions properly, rather than the demon who beat them to match their growth standards during training.
“I'll be back quickly.”
"... Alright."
Cheong Myeong yawned, rolling in the bed to turn his back to the door, pretending to fall asleep. However, Jo Geol knew that Cheong Myeong snored loudly when he slept, so even when Jo Geol assured him that he would be back, his sajae stayed awake until they both settled under the covers. When dawn broke, Cheong Myeong walked on his sahyeong to leave the room as revenge.
Jo Geol thought the floor was colder than sleeping on the bed in his empty room, but if it was one of the few things Cheong Myeong asked for, he decided to listen to it obediently.
Baek Cheon stepped forward, swinging the sword diagonally as he twisted his body, drawing the blade's edge back towards himself before slashing through the air in front of him again, spinning around with his dark hair waving behind him, and the pure white silk tied to his forehead fluttered in the air along with the movement.
The butterfly knot bounced up and down like a little animal's ears, drawing attention to the ends of silk that oscillated tantalizingly in the air. With a tug, the knot came undone, slipping from Baek Cheon's hair, who tried to catch it in his hands before it was stolen in broad daylight.
Cheong Myeong moved his hand away faster, taking several steps back in a second and winding the lasso in his hand with a technique that spoke of experience.
“Today it's magnolia flowers, huh. Sasuk has good taste.”
“Give that back, thief!”
“Why would I return it? It’s mine now, Sasuk.”
“It's mine, mine !”
Cheong Myeong laughed happily, running across the main training ground with Baek Cheon hot on his heels. People who watched them running back and forth learned that Cheong Myeong slowed down in some turns to give the feeling of being within reach, urging his sasuk to continue chasing his back with the hope to catch him and managing to irritate him even more.
“He has fallen again…” Yoon Jong wiped the sweat from his face with a helpless smile. “There are two children, two of them.”
Jo Geol wiped the water from his mouth, handing a half-full canteen to Yoon Jong.
"Thanks."
“Looks like these guys are having fun, sahyeong.”
“At least it's better than scolding us for training.”
At that moment, Cheong Myeong turned his body, facing an unsuspecting Baek Cheon to jump towards him, stepping on his shoulder with his heel and then on his back as he landed on the ground, with Cheong Myeong escaping scot-free while Baek Cheon stood up with his face red of anger.
“I think only one of them is having fun.”
Yoon Jong looked away, coughing into his fist to hide his laughter. “You should give up and just hand him the lasso.”
At that moment, Baek Cheon shook the dust with exaggerated gestures, straightening his back to finally exclaim, “Do you want it? Keep it, I'll never wear one again!”
The third-class disciples turned their heads and the second-class disciples gasped, letting out comments of disbelief.
Cheong Myeong was the most horrified.
"What? Sasuk, what did you say?” Scratching his ear absentmindedly, Cheong Myeong blinked at Baek Cheon with wide eyes. “No, how can it be a Sasuk if it doesn't wear one of these…?”
“I’m a person, not a thing!” replied. “And not all the disciples of second class wear one.”
Cheong Myeong extended the hand holding the silk, letting it unwrap so that the ends fluttered with the wind.
“Sasuk, think about it. No, don't think about it, you'll wear it even if you don't want to!”
Baek Cheon crossed his arms.
“There's no way you're going to force me to wear it, even if it's you. In fact, you are the most insistent on removing it, so don't complain now!”
“Sasuk is unfair. Silly Dongryong, he's an adult who can't stand a joke... Boring.”
The last word seemed to agitate Baek Cheon more than the insults thrown back and forth that had become a well-practiced routine. Without showing it, the older disappeared with an apparently annoyed huff.
The next day, Cheong Myeong sneaked into Baek Cheon's room, holding one of the strips of silk he had stolen over the past year. He now had a generous count of more than three digits adorning a hidden box in his closet, arranged by the design on them, and there were certainly favorites. The one in his hand was special because it was plum in color, with white flowers embroidered on it, a complete contrast to the usual choice of white canvas and colorful decoration.
Cheong Myeong decided to start by putting one of his favorites back on Baek Cheon's forehead while he was still sleeping, tying the cord tightly enough that it couldn't come loose again...
Instead, he found Baek Cheon tying a butterfly knot on the ribbon on his head, comparing the length of the two ends and correcting the millimeter difference with a concentrated expression.
“Eh… I guess it's not necessary,” Cheong Myeong lowered the hands that were holding the cloth like a weapon, putting on a good-humored face.
Baek Cheon frowned. “I'm a little worried about what you were going to do, but I'll pretend nothing happened, just give me that lasso back.”
Cheong Myeong obediently handed over the lasso, then regretted it, moving his hand away when Baek Cheon was about to take it.
"With a condition!" He raised a finger of his other hand, hiding the one holding the ribbon. “Sasuk has to wear this one, and if he wants me to keep returning them, he has to wear the ones I chose…”
“If you like them so much, you can use them yourself, I wouldn't mind as long as you return them…” Baek Cheon undid the ribbon he was wearing, leaving it on the nightstand to begin tying the one that Cheong Myeong returned to him. “No one will make fun of you for imitating your Sasuk. I think it is an excellent example of filial piety between disciples of the same sect…”
“But I don't want to use them… It just catches my attention when Sasuk uses it. I see the ends wave in the air, and before I know it, my hand reaches out to pull it…”
Cheong Myeong slammed a fist against his chest with his eyebrows wrinkled, as if he was going through a difficult situation.
Baek Cheon sighed.
"Forget it."
"Grandpa…"
Cheong Myeong looked at the sky, then turned his gaze to the children who fought loudly behind him, making a fuss even though they were covered in bandages from head to toe.
“I think I’ll be fine.”
Although he was afraid, for a moment.
The blood of the disciples he had played with in his sect had splattered onto the pure snow.
Even though he was strong and obviously talented, he realized that protecting something was terribly difficult, much more so than simply defeating your opponent. If he wanted to protect them from the entire world that seemed to chase them with hunter's eyes, Cheong Myeong would have to become incomparably strong, not like the parody of a training he started so he could spar with the children and have fun.
Being 'good' was not enough.
Cheong Myeong would be the strongest in the world.
He would protect Hwasan with his own hands.
“Cheong Myeong-ah! Look at this thug, he's fine enough to kick his sahyeong! Clearly he should get back to training…”
"No, i’m sorry, sahyeong!"
Although he could also count with an extra pair of hands to help him.