After Chohee left, I continued my walk slowly, taking my time with each step.
The disciples, who seemed to have grown up so quickly.
The youthful faces from the first day I began teaching were now hard to recall, as they had matured so much.
And as I thought about it, I couldn’t shake the heavy feeling that I hadn’t been able to truly understand the worries inside their hearts.
Was being a teacher simply about silently teaching swordsmanship?
That question was settling deeper in my mind.
Had I truly been a good teacher to my disciples?
I had always believed that the answer was in the Qingfeng Sword Technique.
A swordsmanship that had been honed through all the real battles I experienced.
The way of naturally and fluidly overpowering an opponent by following the flow—it seemed like the best choice to me.
But was it truly the best choice for each of my disciples?
Seorin was already stepping onto a dangerous path.
It was a road where her mind could easily become twisted, leading her in the wrong direction.
Sowol’s spear technique, Hwaran’s footwork, Chohee’s secret assassination skills, and Seorin’s overwhelming martial arts—they were all so far from the Qingfeng Sword Technique.
Each of them was following their own path, finding their own way based on their talents.
In fact, Sowol, Hwaran, and Chohee had completely left the boundaries of swordsmanship and were walking different paths altogether.
I didn’t even know when or how they had grown so much.
But thanks to today’s events, I could clearly see it now.
The path that suited each disciple might not be the one I had shown them.
I made my way to the deepest part of Mount Wudang.
As I walked, I found myself unknowingly heading there.
On the way, I passed by a few other Wudang disciples, but I had no desire to face them.
No, to be honest, there was never a time when I wanted to see their faces.
I deliberately chose a quiet path.
As long as I didn’t have to interact with them, that was enough.
It didn’t take long to reach my destination.
In the stillness of the night air, the deepest part of Wudang was even quieter.
The only sound was the soft rustling of the wind.
I stopped for a moment in front of the door, catching my breath and sensing any movement from inside.
At that moment, a calm and composed voice came from inside.
“Come in, Jin Un.”
I stopped abruptly.
The voice, as usual, was calm and composed, but it carried an air of knowing I would come, as if it had been anticipated.
I quietly pushed the door open and entered the room.
Even so, I couldn’t help but show a somewhat awkward expression as I spoke.
“Did you not sleep, Zhangmun Sa-hyeong?”
Zhangmun Sa-hyeong chuckled softly and nodded his head.
“Heh heh heh. When you get old, you don’t sleep as much.”
He leisurely took a sip of tea.
Then, turning his gaze toward me, he spoke.
“So, what brings you all the way to my place?”
I shrugged my shoulders slightly and replied.
“Well, I couldn’t sleep.”
“Ah, you rascal.”
Zhangmun Sa-hyeong scolded me playfully.
However, his gaze seemed to have seen through everything.
I hesitated for a moment before opening my mouth.
“It’s just… because of my disciples.”
I sighed and set my teacup down.
Before the warmth from the cup disappeared, I took another deep breath.
“Hah… It’s just that, disciples are never as easy as they seem.”
Zhangmun Sa-hyeong quietly watched me.
His eyes carried understanding and calmness.
I didn’t shy away from his gaze and continued.
“If they just learned what I taught them, that would be nice, but they always find their own paths. When I give them a sword, they throw it away; when I teach them swordsmanship, they learn other martial arts. What I tried to teach has been pushed aside.”
I shook my head and let out a small laugh.
“If this is the case, why would they even need a teacher?”
At my words, Zhangmun Sa-hyeong lightly laughed and set his teacup down.
“You worry about everything, don’t you? So, did you follow your teacher’s words without question?”
For a moment, I was at a loss for words.
Zhangmun Sa-hyeong smiled and raised his teacup again.
“The worries you’re having right now… they’re so familiar. I remember when your teacher used to say the same things about you. ‘If he had just followed my teachings, he would have become a great master by now. Why is this guy so stubborn?’ he’d say.”
I awkwardly laughed.
But as Zhangmun Sa-hyeong’s words continued, my expression gradually hardened.
“Jin Un, just as you found your path, your disciples are finding theirs as well. Throwing away the sword or learning other martial arts—these are just the paths they’ve chosen to improve themselves. But just because they’re not following the path you envisioned, doesn’t mean they’re wrong, does it?”
I couldn’t find the words to respond.
Zhangmun Sa-hyeong smiled and took another sip of tea.
“I understand why you’re anxious. You believe the path you’ve walked was definitely right, and that it’s the best method. But you see, a teacher is someone who shows the way, not someone who forces others to walk that path. Just because your disciples aren’t walking the path you want them to, doesn’t mean you’ve taught them wrongly.”
I let out a deep sigh.
My mind was in turmoil.
Could it really be that way?
But…
Zhangmun Sa-hyeong quietly watched me, then spoke again.
“Jin Un, just as you have mastered an excellent sword, your disciples will one day complete their own martial arts. You didn’t just sit in this position from the beginning, did you? It was because your teacher believed in you that you were able to reach this point.”
At his words, memories of my childhood suddenly came to mind.
In my foolish years, I held the sword and half-listened to my teacher’s lessons, letting them go in one ear and out the other.
In the end, I learned the sword my own way and found my own path.
And now, aren’t my disciples walking the same path?
Zhangmun Sa-hyeong chuckled softly and added his final words.
“Trust your disciples. Just as you grew into what you are now, your disciples will grow in their own way.”
I quietly inhaled.
Zhangmun Sa-hyeong’s words weren’t wrong.
In fact, they felt almost too obvious.
But…
“I understand, Sa-hyeong. But… it’s still not easy.”
I honestly admitted it.
I understood that I had to trust my disciples with my mind, but my heart couldn’t settle.
Zhangmun Sa-hyeong chuckled lightly and set his teacup down.
“It wouldn’t be easy. That just means you care about them.”
I said nothing and just stared at my teacup.
That’s when I felt a presence approaching.
I instinctively tensed my face.
Soon, I heard the sound of someone knocking on the door.
It was rhythmic and without hesitation.
I slowly stood up.
“The tea was delicious.”
After a brief greeting, I immediately went to open the door.
I passed by the man standing at the door without even giving him a glance.
From behind, Zhangmun Sa-hyeong’s voice called out to me.
“Don’t be so harsh. You’re not the only one living in the past. Don’t you think your disciple is old enough to understand now?”
I didn’t stop.
I pretended I hadn’t heard and continued walking.
Silence filled the room.
The person who had been watching Jin Un’s retreating figure cautiously opened his mouth. His voice was filled with hesitation.
“Do you think… Elder Jin Un still…?”
Zhangmun Sa-hyeong picked up his teacup, then slowly set it down with a bitter smile.
He traced the rim of the teacup with his finger, wearing an expression as if searching through an old memory.
“This old man is being greedy.”
He sighed as he gazed into the air.
It was a deep and heavy sigh.
“The Great Peng should have soared long ago. But here it is, still trapped in this narrow cage.”
A brief silence followed.
The wind gently blew, causing the leaves in the courtyard to rustle.
The person spoke carefully again.
“Do you really think so, Zhangmun Sa-hyeong?”
Zhangmun Sa-hyeong remained silent for a long while.
He raised his teacup again, but set it down without drinking.
“Jin Un is a free spirit. He’s always been that way. But…”
Zhangmun Sa-hyeong cast his gaze out the window.
It was as though the shadow of Jin Un leaving still lingered in his sight.
“A Great Peng that cannot fly on its own will eventually blame the cage. That is the most pitiful thing.”
Zhangmun Sa-hyeong picked up his teacup again and let out a small laugh.
“Anyway, what brings the House Law Elder all the way to this old man’s place? If it weren’t for something important, you wouldn’t have come this far.”
The House Law Elder answered without hesitation.
“A letter has come from the Martial Arts Alliance.”
Zhangmun Sa-hyeong rolled the teacup between his fingers and chuckled.
“Ah, how unfortunate. I wasn’t really eager to see it.”
Despite Zhangmun Sa-hyeong’s attitude, the House Law Elder continued without concern and proceeded with the matter.
“The Martial Arts Alliance is planning a major event.”
Zhangmun Sa-hyeong slowly unfolded the letter and began reading.
His eyes scanned the letter several times before he raised his teacup again.
He clicked his tongue softly and laughed.
“Hm, if things go well, Jin Un might even solve his problems.”
Zhangmun Sa-hyeong slowly folded the letter and set it down.
His gaze turned toward the direction where Jin Un had disappeared, beyond the courtyard.
“I wonder how Jin Un will handle this.”
He picked up his teacup again and chuckled softly.
The wind had grown even colder.