717.
Work, Teach, and Study Again
He worked, taught, and studied again.
What grew faster than the noodle house's success was the band of martial followers.
Even the way people gathered changed.
Before, the ones who came wanted to "try a match."
Their bravado came first.
They hunted for a name.
Faces that flipped at the word Hwa-gyeong.
But that kind of challenge almost vanished.
They came, tested the waters, measured what was possible, and stepped back.
Men who could not even clear the beginners here still strutted through the world as if they carried rare skill.
At that stage, the mountain-men screened them out first.
A few words at the gate and a few looks were enough.
If the intent showed, they did not let them in.
If the qi was thin, they sent them away.
Instead, a different sentence began to appear again and again.
"I want to learn."
Humble.
Careful.
Instead of "fight me," they bowed.
They were people who admitted their lack first.
The difference was plain.
At first it began with buying a nearby house to lodge the mountain-men.
They cleared a training yard and divided sleeping space.
After that, it swelled on its own, even without Park Seong-jin managing it.
As numbers grew, they built their own quarters.
They studied by day, slept by night, and lived together.
Rules formed without anyone ordering them.
Order took its place.
Here, an old, unwritten law of the mountain-men applied.
Do not accept everyone.
Look at the person before the skill.
If it does not fit, do not take them.
Do not explain why.
So those who remained were naturally sincere.
Their will to learn was clear.
They had the heart to endure.
That 열의 moved Park Seong-jin.
No one pushed him.
No one looked for shortcuts.
They stacked day upon day.
Watching that, he did not discriminate.
He did not divide monk and layman.
If he had to name it in Goryeo terms, it was closer to Seon-dothan Do-ga.
Its grain differed from the Taoism of the Central Plains.
There was no formality.
No gods to invoke.
It also differed from the "men of the Way" spoken of in Buddhism.
Study here did not separate from life.
It ran with nature, hardened the body, and—if the 나라 shifted—carried on to marching out in plain clothes.
Within that, Park Seong-jin's capacity widened on its own.
More than anything, the mere fact that a master of Hwa-gyeong was nearby became study.
Even without words, qi remained.
Even without explanation, direction appeared.
A man who could not complete even a single small circuit of qi came here and, before long, completed it.
He refined his qi in daily repetition, and then rose into mastery of inner work.
Not one or two.
It was a place worthy of being called a dragon's pool and a tiger's cave.
Qi gathered.
People gathered.
So after long 고민, Park Seong-jin made a decision.
He enclosed the place with a thin fence of willow.
So the inside could not be seen from outside.
He judged it undesirable for ordinary people to watch men fly and spread lightness techniques.
This world had to turn by this world's laws.
The line that must not be crossed was clear.
When the fence went up, a plaque was hung.
The characters were clean and unadorned.
〈No Entry for Outsiders〉
—＊
"There are many strange men in the world." — Lee Eun-yak
He arrived the day after the spring rain stopped.
Moisture clung to the willow fence.
From the earth rose a mix of raw soil-scent and grass.
One of the mountain-men sensed him first.
Not fast.
Not strong.
Yet strangely lingering.
When Park Seong-jin tilted his head, Lee Eun-yak was already standing outside the fence.
His appearance was odd.
A ragged hem of gray cloth.
A small medicine gourd at his waist.
No sword.
No staff.
Dirt stained his hands.
Dried plant sap clung under his nails.
His face looked old, yet his eyes were too clear.
Things that did not match sat inside one body.
That was why you looked again.
He did not knock.
He only stood and looked in.
"I was gathering herbs and took the wrong path."
That was what he said when the mountain-man questioned him.
His voice was low, without 힘.
It sounded like a sentence balanced on the border between lie and truth.
The mountain-man did not press further.
Their unwritten rule was simple.
Look at qi before words.
Or else, watch and wait.
That night, Park Seong-jin faced him in the annex.
Lee Eun-yak sat at the edge of the training ground.
He did not watch the Northern Dipper.
He did not form seals with his hands.
He held a blade of grass, tore it, and smelled it.
"A martial man?"
At Park's question, Lee shook his head.
"No. I know the scent a person has before death."
"Do I look like I will die soon."
"Nothing is eternal."
Park did not ask more.
There was no exaggeration in Lee's words.
So there was nothing to add.
Lee Eun-yak did not call himself a physician.
He always said this instead.
"I've never saved anyone. I've only delayed it."
It was not a sentence you could grasp at once.
His medicine was strange.
It did not "heal" wounds.
It did not erase pain.
It slowed the moment a person collapses in front of death.
Blood still flowed, but breath continued evenly.
Among the mountain-men, talk spread.
"He has no martial art."
"He does."
"Where."
A test happened by chance.
One mountain-man pressed a little qi, just enough to probe.
In that instant, Lee's hand moved.
Not fast.
But exact.
His fingertips brushed the elbow.
The qi scattered.
The mountain-man sank to the ground.
No injury.
No pain.
Only the will to use force had vanished.
"Did you kill his qi?"
"I only delayed it. The movement."
That night he sat across from Park Seong-jin.
Until the tea went cold, neither spoke.
Lee Eun-yak spoke first.
"I did not come searching for one who reached Hwa-gyeong."
"Then what did you come looking for."
"A person who has stopped."
Park did not deny it.
The word was accurate.
"People say that once you reach a realm, you must go farther."
"And so they break."
"How far have you come."
Lee Eun-yak smiled.
"I'm always on my way back."
"What should a stopped man do."
"Do not think that place is the end."
At that, Park looked back on his own realm.
Lee stayed three days, then left.
He left behind only his medicine gourd.
"There is already medicine here."
"What is it."
"People staying a long time."
He did not return.
Later, the mountain-men called him this.
"The one who delays."
Some come and remain.
Some only look and go.
From around that time, the visitors to the suburban annex did not cease.