A Self-Defeating Move

Flap, flap.

When the crows suddenly took flight, the late snow resting on the plum branches fell noisily.

Yun-seon, dozing against the beam, jumped at the noise and dropped the sword he had been holding. A sword was useless to him anyway—he knew no martial arts—but even failing to hold it properly embarrassed him, turning his face red.

“Tired, are you?”

Yun-seon could not fathom how his master had sat playing Go in the same spot for hours. Yul-cheon wore only a thin long robe despite the cold.

“Master, this game is lost.”

Though hopeless at martial arts, Yun-seon was confident in matters of thought. His master’s black stones had been cornered and lost since earlier.

“If it were you, what move would you make next?”

Despite his disciple’s rude tone, Yul-cheon showed no displeasure. Instead, he smiled kindly and asked.

“If you strike here, you can place both sides in atari¹. White cannot defend both, so one path will open for sure.”

Speaking hesitantly, guilt in his voice, Yun-seon slowly moved a black stone. Yul-cheon stroked his short beard lightly with his left hand as he gazed at the board.

“Yun-seon.”

“Yes, Master.”

Startled by his master’s unusually serious tone, Yun-seon tensed. The smile had vanished from Yul-cheon’s face.

“If there is no path to be found…”

Yul-cheon picked up the black stone Yun-seon had just placed.

“Then follow your opponent’s path.”

“But Master, that way you can never win.”

The spot Yul-cheon indicated had no way forward. He looked at his puzzled disciple, then gently held and stroked his hand.

“Just flow as the current does. Live true to your name.”

“Master?”

At that moment, Yun-seon realized something was terribly wrong. Why else would his master have called on him, a boy ignorant of martial arts, to keep watch for hours? Why else had he suddenly given the household servants leave at dawn?

“What on earth is happening, Master?”

Yul-cheon gazed intently at the face of the disciple more precious to him than his own life. This moment might be the last he would see him.

“I would have you run an errand for me.”

“Eh?”

Yul-cheon drew a book from his chest and placed it in Yun-seon’s hand. Palm-sized and slim, it could be hidden in his sleeve without much risk of discovery.

“Take this now to Dhuta Mountain. Later, there will be word from the Venerable Elder.”

Yun-seon felt a sudden unease at his master’s tone and behavior. To send a young disciple alone on a journey of 150 km was unlike him. Moreover, Yun-seon had never even met the Venerable Elder.

“Master, something is wrong, isn’t it?”

A dark shadow crossed Yul-cheon’s face. He smiled bitterly.

“No. It is an urgent matter I cannot attend to myself, and Jong-yeon is away. There is only you.”

“But if I leave, Master, you’ll be alone in this vast manor.”

Yul-cheon stroked his disciple’s head gently, a kind expression on his face.

“Your sahyung will soon return. Do not worry for me.”

Yun-seon could argue no further and only nodded. With his senior brother back, it would be many times more reassuring than himself staying.

Jong-yeon, his senior by ten years, was already a renowned chivalrous hero of the martial world. Each year he descended the mountain for several months, earning the name “Plum Blossom Virtuous Hero” for his many good deeds.

Yun-seon, by contrast, had never even trained the most basic inner cultivation. He knew better than anyone that he was useless should danger come to his master. Worse, his master might risk himself to protect him.

“Yes.”

A deep unease rose within him, but he could not defy his master’s will on the basis of mere feeling.

‘Surely no one would dare harm Sword God Kang Yul-cheon.’

Forcing his thoughts toward the hopeful, Yun-seon returned to his room. By the time he had packed lightly, the hour of the ox² had already passed.

Reluctant to leave Kang Family Manor, he walked slowly back to the main hall. Yul-cheon still sat exactly as before, eyes fixed on the Go board.

“I’ll be off now.”

Yun-seon forced out the words as he knelt in the courtyard. Thinking he would not see his master for a long time made his nose sting. He bowed twice and raised his head, but his master gave no reply.

“Master!”

Yun-seon called again loudly. Yet still Yul-cheon gave no answer, and disappointment filled him.

“Master! If it were me, I would have given up that game long ago.”

At last, Yul-cheon slowly raised his head and looked at him, but only smiled faintly and said nothing. Feeling hollow, Yun-seon gave a final bow and left Kang Family Manor. A chill wind blew at his back, slipping into his collar.

The path down alone felt endlessly long. He had walked nearly an hour yet had not cleared the mountainside. Dawn was near, but the forest darkness clung on.

Hooo-oooo.

A night bird gave its forlorn cry. Yun-seon shrugged nervously.

‘Why chase me out in the middle of the night?’

Frustration welled in him. The more he thought about it, the stranger his master’s behavior tonight seemed. The same man who never let him stroll outside the manor freely—why would he send him on such a grave errand?

‘Could it be…?’

At that thought, chills raced over Yun-seon’s body. He turned back and ran. Though dread gnawed at him, he had left because surely nothing could befall a supreme master like Yul-cheon. But…

‘Master is in danger. If he could handle it, he would never have sent me away.’

Tears brimmed in Yun-seon’s eyes. The faster he ran, the more they streamed back, sticking to his flushed cheeks. They must have stung, yet he felt no pain—only fear for his master’s safety filled his mind.

How long did he run? What had taken an hour to descend he tore back up in barely half the time. At last, the grand signboard of Kang Family Manor came into view.

“Mas—ter, ugh…”

Before he could finish the word, a large hand clamped over his mouth.

“Yun-seon, it’s me.”

At the familiar voice, his tense body slackened. It was Jong-yeon, his senior brother, who had descended the mountain a month earlier. When Yun-seon nodded quickly, Jong-yeon released his grip.

“Sahyung³!”

Overcome with joy, Yun-seon hugged Jong-yeon’s waist tightly. More than just a senior, he felt like blood kin; the relief was indescribable.

“Yun-seon, you must be quiet.”

With a grim face, Jong-yeon wrapped his arm around Yun-seon’s waist and leapt onto the roof. His lightness skill was so great he reached the highest eaves in just three steps.

“Gasp!”

Yun-seon gasped in shock. When Jong-yeon shot him a sharp glare, he quickly covered his mouth. Feeling his senior brother’s cold gaze for the first time, he realized the situation was more dire than he had thought.

“I never wished to go this far.”

He turned toward the sound and saw his master still seated at the Go board. The speaker circled slowly around him; only the hem of a blue robe was visible, the face obscured.

“It is but a commentary on the scripture. You have no reason to covet it.”

Yul-cheon spoke quietly but firmly.

“……”

The man in blue robes stood silently before Yul-cheon.

“Even if you possess it, you will never comprehend it.”

Before Yul-cheon even finished speaking, the man struck out with a palm. The move was so fast that even Jong-yeon, near the realm of masters, could not follow it.

Thwack!

The sound of the heavy blow snapped Yun-seon’s mind awake. His master seemed gravely hurt.

“Ma—”

“Shh.”

Jong-yeon covered Yun-seon’s mouth again and raised a finger to his lips. A master capable of such a strike would notice the slightest stir.

“How dare you!”

The man’s outstretched hand trembled violently, unable to withdraw—clearly he felt deeply insulted.

“You will never…”

Yul-cheon could not finish his words; the attack had twisted his energy channels beyond repair.

“Very well then—find it yourself.”

Steadying his voice, the man drew a fan and flicked it twice. With a sound like rushing wind, his robe swirled as he vanished beyond the hall.

Yun-seon tilted his head—why carry a fan in this cold?—but then an unpleasant buzzing grazed his ears. At first a nuisance, it grew stronger until nausea churned in his stomach.

“Focus strength in your dantian and imagine sending your energy to that point.”

As Yun-seon writhed, Jong-yeon grasped his wrist and whispered. Though ignorant of martial arts, Yun-seon grasped quickly and understood. With deep breaths and an image of energy moving, his nausea eased.

“Sahyung, has he gone?”

Yun-seon asked as quietly as he could. He longed to rush to his injured master.

“No.”

But Jong-yeon shook his head grimly. Then—

“Whiik!”

With a sharp whistle, dozens of black shadows poured into Kang Family Manor’s courtyard. Their cloaks spread as they leapt, resembling a swarm of butterflies.

‘Black Butterfly Shadows.’

Recognizing them, Jong-yeon shut his eyes rather than face the horror. Saving their master’s life was beyond hope; protecting his junior brother was now his sole burden.

Seeing Jong-yeon’s grim face, Yun-seon’s heart plummeted. He knew this was the last day he would ever be with his master and senior brother.

자충수(自充手), Self-Defeating Move:
A metaphor for actions that ultimately bring ruin upon oneself.