The Wudang Sect, which pursues the philosophy of Taiji, has Taijiquan and Taiji Sword.
The Jeomchang Sect, which follows the principle of Yin and Yang, has the Four Seasons Sword Technique and the Silver Moon Splitting Light Sword.
The Cheongseong Sect, which follows the principle of the Eight Trigrams, has the Azure Cloud Scarlet River Sword and the Four Zenith Blades.
Each of the orthodox sects in the martial world embodies the principles they pursue through their martial arts.
By manifesting these principles through their techniques, they physically embody the "Dao" their sect follows.
Then, how did the Hwasan Sect, which pursues the Six Harmonies, come to be represented by the plum blossom?
Was it simply because there were many plum blossoms on Mount Hwa?
This was the first philosophical question Muhwi had pondered after beginning his training in Hwasan's martial arts.
"The Six Harmony Sword encompasses the thirty-six directions. It lays the foundation to extend the sword in any direction among those thirty-six and to defend from them as well."
"That's why so much time is spent repeating the Six Harmony Sword training at Chunmaegwan."
As Muhwi calmly explained, Baekyu's gaze grew increasingly intrigued.
'They said Muhwi had changed, and they weren't wrong.'
He could hardly believe this was the same timid child who used to stammer in front of him.
"While practicing each direction, a thought occurred to me. What if every stance of the Six Harmony Sword was executed simultaneously, in all directions?"
Baekyu nodded, waiting quietly for what came next.
"Blooming. If seen from above, it would look like a flower in bloom."
The swordsman at the center wielding the Six Harmony Sword was like the calyx of a flower.
The swords extending outward in all directions became the petals.
"You are correct."
Baekyu looked at Muhwi with a proud, beaming smile.
He had only posed a simple question about the Six Harmony Sword, yet Muhwi had already reflected deeply and arrived at a thoughtful answer.
"There are many flowers on Mount Hwa, not just plum blossoms. Reflecting on why it had to be the plum blossom will be a meaningful study for you."
Baekyu didn't offer the answer outright.
The act of pondering is what cultivates growth in a martial artist.
He believed Muhwi would be able to find the answer on his own. Seeing Muhwi now reminded him of Hyunjo in his second-generation disciple days.
That radiant talent.
A brilliance he thought he would never see again now shone through Hyunjo's disciple.
'Hyunjo... Were you the only one who saw this child's potential before anyone else?'
Baekyu reached out and gently grasped Muhwi's hand.
Rough and calloused, with scars across the skin—it was clear how much time and effort he had devoted to the sword.
"Lately, people say you seem different, like someone who's found a clear goal."
"It's nothing grand. I simply want to continue what Master set out to do. To fill the place he left behind."
"Huh..."
Baekyu didn't reply, only stroking his beard with a quiet laugh.
He knew Hyunjo had been trying to create a new martial art. But inventing a new sword style was no simple task.
'It'll be difficult.'
No matter how much effort Muhwi poured into it, Baekyu thought he likely wouldn't see the result before his own death.
Still, more than the outcome, Baekyu was glad Muhwi had taken on Hyunjo's will.
"And this 'place he left behind'—are you referring to Hwasan's greatest sword?"
"Yes. I don't intend to yield it to anyone."
The elders, Baekyu included, had assumed the next Hwasan First Sword would come from the Samhwa trio.
But seeing Muhwi's unwavering eyes made him think perhaps they had been mistaken.
'The more plum blossoms that survive the winter and bloom anew, the better.'
He had only meant to hear the resolve of a second-generation disciple—but now, the one he had worried about the most had shown himself to be truly reliable.
For Baekyu, the future of Hwasan, once a vague concern, now became something to look forward to.
"So, you've clearly set your path forward."
"Isn't it a disciple's duty to succeed their master and even surpass them?"
At Muhwi's bold response, Baekyu let out a rare, hearty laugh.
"Hahaha! Then Hyunjo would surely be proud."
As the laughter faded, a warm smile remained on Baekyu's face.
After exchanging a few more words, Muhwi said he would stay to read more manuals, and Baekyu left Maeseogak alone.
Though it was night, the cold moonlight fell on the plum blossoms, making them appear so pale they were almost blue.
"How beautiful."
Baekyu paused his steps and took in the sight of the blossoms.
'Hyunjo…'
The most radiant plum blossom of Hwasan had fallen, but beside it remained a small flower bud.
One that might, perhaps, bloom even more brilliantly than the last.
'My task is to protect that bud you left behind and help it bloom. Isn't that right, Hyunjo?'
Scent of Plum Blossoms in the Snow (雪中梅香).
Though the chill of snow in winter is said to be biting, the fragrance of the plum blossom that endures it and blooms must be all the richer.
Just like the crimson plum blossoms of Hongrim.
Taking in the deep scent of the blossoms, Baekyu walked with a light step for the first time in a while.
Muhwi was hanging from the branch of a plum tree, shirtless.
"Hoo!"
His breath came rough and heavy, and his face and upper body were flushed red, like the surrounding plum blossoms in full bloom.
Every time he bent and stretched his arms while hanging from the branch, the muscles in his arms and back twisted and writhed.
Weights strapped to his arms and legs clinked rhythmically with every movement, adding a steady beat to his training.
"Haa..."
Muhwi exhaled in rhythm, his entire body screaming from exertion.
His body was still far from refined—just average, really—but of course, he wasn't one to leave it that way. He was relentlessly pushing it to its limits.
Even the most godlike martial arts or immense internal energy were useless without a vessel—a body—strong enough to contain and express them.
Muhwi was repeating cycles of rest and training, even cutting back on sleep to bring his physique up to at least a proper foundation.
It was brutal and grueling, but the faint sense of growth he felt with each passing day became his driving force.
As a result, despite only two months having passed since he began, his body was undergoing a dramatic transformation.
His waist stood firm and upright, while his back and shoulders were broad and chiseled. He'd even needed a new uniform to match his changed frame.
'It's stupidly intense, but you can't deny it works.'
Two months was hardly enough time to see such visible gains through physical training alone.
But the reason Muhwi could reshape his body in such a short time wasn't just his obsessive dedication. He was following the training methods of a particular master.
The Iron Mountain Fist King (Cheolsan Gwonwang, 鐵山拳王).
In the martial world, he was known as the man with the heaviest fists under the heavens. But to Muhwi, he was just an old lunatic obsessed with muscles.
While other masters meditated or practiced thousands of strikes seeking enlightenment, the Iron Mountain Fist King focused solely on his physique.
— "Hey, junior. No matter how good your swordplay is, that scrawny body of yours won't cut it. Look at these solid muscles. I've recently refined a new training method..."
Muhwi had heard his endless rants about muscles over drinks after a duel in his past life—and never expected to actually put them to use.
'It works better than I expected. Creepy how effective it is.'
With some refinement, it could even be applied to other disciples' training.
His muscles were already screaming in protest, but Muhwi grit his teeth and pushed for one more repetition. His arms trembled violently.
"Ggh!"
Every time his body shifted, a few plum petals fluttered down from the branches.
The ground beneath the tree was damp, as if it had rained—but it was sweat from Muhwi's training that had soaked the earth.
"Big brother!"
While Muhwi was engrossed in his training, Muhwa skipped lightly into the yard of Mo-ok like a rabbit.
She looked at Muhwi's shirtless, muscular body with wide eyes and swallowed.
His muscles weren't excessive—just enough to outline a rough, powerful form. And there, across his chest, a large, vivid scar twisted with every breath.
Scars usually made people wince, but this one seemed to suit him, standing boldly atop those sharply defined muscles.
Momentarily mesmerized, Muhwa quickly turned her head away and shouted:
"Big brother! Put your robe on!"
"What are you yelling about? Who interrupted whose training, huh? You're the one who should close your eyes."
Wiping the sweat from his face with his forearm, Muhwi threw his robe loosely over his shoulders. Muhwa pouted and bit her lip but said nothing further.
She knew by now that arguing with him never worked.
"Big brother, let's have a meal together today. You rarely eat at the dining hall, right?"
"You came all the way here just to ask me to eat?"
"Of course not! There's something I want to tell you over food. It'll surprise you, I promise."
Smiling brightly, Muhwa held out her hand, and Muhwi casually dropped something into it.
She looked down and saw a flint.
"Big brother?"
"You learned how to light a fire at Chunmaegwan, right? I'll be back in a bit, so go start one."
As Muhwi disappeared into the woods, Muhwa blinked, wide-eyed.
"Huh?"
Muhwa stared blankly at the rabbit meat roasting before her, the fat dripping down with a sizzle.
"So this is why you never came to the dining hall..."
"Tch. If the food were good, I'd eat there."
Muhwi had been appalled when he first saw the meals at Hwasan Sect.
Mostly greens, with the occasional meat boiled to the point of being dry, drained of all fat, and seasoned with barely anything—it was bland and unpleasant.
He understood that, as an orthodox sect, they aimed for a more ascetic, "immortal's diet." But there was no way he was going to force that down.
From who-knows-where, Muhwi pulled out some jerky, tore it into bits, and spread it evenly over the rabbit meat. The surface fat held it in place as it sizzled over the fire.
"Why'd you do that with the jerky?"
"Like this, the salt from the jerky makes the meat taste better."
"Waaah."
Muhwi, of course, knew this from his past life, but for Muhwa—who had grown up entirely within the Hwasan Sect—it was all simply fascinating.
Once the rabbit meat was nicely cooked, Muhwi handed one of the two portions to Muhwa.
"Don't tell the other disciples. If you do, I'll focus my training on only you for the next month."
"Ugh..."
Muhwa gave him a glare full of dismay.
Aside from his early morning training, Muhwi often stayed at the training ground to help guide the martial arts of the junior disciples.
That was originally the responsibility of the senior first-generation disciples.
Not all disciples in Hwasan had individual masters, so the first-generation disciples would take turns guiding the masterless second-generation ones.
However, after the bloody events in Xianshui, their numbers had dwindled, and those who remained were swamped with duties trying to restore the sect.
As a result, regardless of whether they had a master or not, the second-generation disciples were starving for proper martial guidance.
Seeing this issue, Muhwi had begun setting aside time to train them personally.
The only catch was—his method was always through sparring. Getting smacked a few times with a wooden sword was par for the course. Muhwi's philosophy was that pain helped correct mistakes faster and led to real growth.
Muhwa, who had confidently challenged him recently and ended up with a thorough beating, puffed out her cheeks in frustration.
"Big brother, I am the youngest of the second generation... can't you be a little nicer to me? The bruises on my thighs and waist haven't even faded yet."
"I am being nice. I only hit you once when I could've hit you three times."
"Ugh. Never mind."
Muhwa sighed deeply, then—perhaps to vent her frustration—opened her mouth wide and took a big bite of the rabbit meat. Watching her, Muhwi asked:
"So, what is it you wanted to say?"
"Oh, right!"
Wiping her grease-slick lips, Muhwa spoke in an excited tone.
"Big brother! We're going down the mountain!"
At those words, Muhwi's previously indifferent gaze sharpened instantly.
"Hooh... really?"
It was the most interesting thing he'd heard in a long while.
Seeing his suddenly animated reaction, Muhwa chewed on her meat curiously.
"Big brother, did you want to leave the mountain that badly?"
< Small flower buds still remained. > End
< I want to smash it all to pieces. >