Chapter 2

Ordinary person (凡夫) – A common person with no special abilities. A term used to refer to anyone. However, the eccentric standing behind me did not look like an ordinary person at all.

“Watch closely. This is how you swing a stick.”

The eccentric, who called himself an ordinary person, stretched out his long arm, picked up my stick that had fallen to the ground, and then proceeded to beat the large dog so fiercely that the phrase “beating a dog on a hot day” naturally came to mind.

He struck, poked, slashed, blocked, hit, and pressed with the stick, playing with it in all sorts of ways.

The astonishing thing was that the fierce dog couldn’t even mount a proper counterattack and was toyed with like a monkey in Buddha’s hand, whimpering and almost offering itself to be hit by the stick.

The large dog rolled around to avoid the stick, and before long, it couldn’t tell front from back and started wiggling its rear end toward the stick.

“With this much scolding, it won’t bite people for a while. Now, go home.”

Thwack!

“Yelp!!”

The eccentric loudly smacked the dog’s rear end with the stick, and the dog ran off as fast as a rabbit fleeing from a tiger, not even looking back.

What… did I just witness?

A large man chased away a dog with a stick. At first glance, it didn’t seem like a particularly remarkable sight. However, the stick technique the man displayed was something I had never seen in both my past and present lives—a sight so astonishing it left my mouth hanging open.

It was as if violence had been sublimated into art, resulting in the stick technique the large man used. It was so mystical that I couldn’t help but think, “If violence were elevated to art, wouldn’t it look like this?”

And from within me, a desire to learn that technique began to stir. After all, since I’m a cripple who will have to rely on a stick for the rest of my life, wouldn’t it be great to learn such a mystical stick technique?

“Uh, sir, thank you for saving me. But where did you learn that strange stick technique?”

“It’s not a strange stick technique; it’s a martial art called the Dog Chasing Stick Technique (打狗棒法). Do you want to learn it?”

Dog Chasing Stick Technique. Literally translated, it means “the technique of beating dogs.” Thinking back to how the sir was beating the dog earlier, it’s a very fitting name. There couldn’t be a more appropriate name.

But judging by the fact that it’s named “the technique of beating dogs,” it doesn’t seem like a high-level martial art. Is it a self-defense technique? Would a nearby martial arts school teach it?

“Yes! I want to learn it. Where can I go to learn it? Or did you create this technique yourself?”

“…A school? I created it? Keh-kehahahahaha!”

The sir laughed heartily, his large body shaking, and gently patted my head with his equally large hand.

In my dazed state, I finally got a good look at the sir’s face. His forehead was broad, his eyebrows long like brush strokes, his nose blunt, and his lips thick like a catfish’s. Frankly, he was a really ugly old man.

But there was something about the aura he exuded that made it hard to think of him as ugly. He was a strangely fascinating old man.

“Since you don’t know the Dog Chasing Stick Technique, you must not be from a martial family. Good. Meeting like this is fate, so I’ll teach you. But there’s a condition.”

“A condition?”

“Prepare a bundle of jerky and present it to me as a gesture of respect. That’s the condition.”

Jerky? The jerky I know? Not money, but jerky? It’s not difficult, but the condition is so simple that it’s suspicious.

“It’s etiquette for a disciple to present ten pieces of jerky when requesting teachings from a master.”

束脩之禮 (The Etiquette of the Jerky Bundle) – A ritual where a disciple presents a bundle of jerky when first meeting a master to request teachings. I’ve read about it in the classics.

But it’s usually just a formality, and most people just give money instead. This is the first time I’ve seen someone actually follow it.

“I’m staying in an abandoned house on the eastern outskirts of the village. If you decide to receive my teachings, prepare the offering and come find me.”

The large old man left those words and, just as he had appeared, walked away and disappeared. He seemed to be walking normally, but with light steps, he vanished before my eyes.

I rubbed my eyes and stared at the spot where the old man had been. I even pinched my thigh to see if I was dreaming, but it wasn’t a dream.

Though I was utterly bewildered, I could understand what had just happened to me. Even though I don’t know much about martial arts stories, I could tell.

This was a power-up event. A stroke of fate. Fate had come to me.

***

After parting with the old man, chaos ensued. My mother, having seen me rolling around everywhere, had a fit and declared a house arrest.

My father, being of the opinion that boys will be boys and might get hurt, is more lenient, but my mother is sensitive to my injuries.

Probably because she feels responsible for me being born a cripple. Though it’s not something she should feel responsible for at all.

As a child, I appreciate my mother’s care and kindness, but she’s so naively kind that we don’t quite match.

I guess it’s because I’m a twisted person. After all the pain she went through to have me, instead of a cute little baby, she got this guy. I can only feel sorry.

…But feeling sorry is one thing, and I still need to go out and learn the Dog Chasing Stick Technique. I’ll live as I please now and be filial later.

Normally, it would be time to have a hearty lunch, play, and then take a nap. But I sneaked out of the house with the bundle of jerky prepared by Jang Sam-i, without my parents knowing.

Limping, I slipped out through the back door and headed toward the abandoned house on the eastern outskirts of the village.

When I first found out I was a cripple, I was quite despairing, but humans are adaptable creatures, and now I’ve gotten the hang of walking with a stick.

If I push myself, I can even pick up some speed. Well, even at speed, it’s only as fast as a normal person walking briskly.

The abandoned house on the eastern outskirts. Though it’s called an abandoned house, it was once the residence of a wealthy man who left it for some reason, so it’s a somewhat livable place.

Of course, that’s only if you go in the morning. If you go at night, it’s just a haunted house.

Passing through the half-broken, creaky gate, I cautiously walked inside. The old man was there to greet me with a benevolent smile on his face.

“You really came. What if I were a bad person? Why would you come alone to such a remote place?”

It was more of an adult teasing a child than a genuine threat, so I responded casually.

“You just seemed like a good person. Don’t expect logical reasons from a kid my age.”

The old man laughed heartily at my words and then sat down cross-legged in front of me.

“Coming this far means you really want to learn martial arts, right? Bow once and present the offering to show your respect as a disciple.”

I scratched my head, recalling something I’d heard or read in the classics.

“Uh, usually when requesting to become a disciple, isn’t it supposed to be nine bows (九拜之禮) instead of just one?”

I asked about the nine bows not because I wanted to bow nine times, but because I was worried the old man might play word games and say he’d only teach me as much as I bowed.

In response to my question, the old man, as if he were already my master, taught me in a kind yet firm voice.

“The nine bows aren’t about bowing to the master nine times. It’s three bows to the founder, three to the master’s master, and finally three to the master.”

Oh, I see. I didn’t know that.

“…Then, even if we skip the founder and the master’s master, shouldn’t I bow three times to you, Master? Why only once?”

“Doesn’t your leg hurt? It’s tiring, so just bow once.”

It was a perfectly reasonable reason, but it was so unexpected that I asked in a dazed voice.

“Huh? Is that really okay? Didn’t you emphasize etiquette by asking for a bundle of jerky?”

“Was preparing the bundle of jerky difficult?”

“Huh? Not particularly.”

“Then do you think bowing three times with your bad leg wouldn’t be difficult or uncomfortable?”

“…Of course, it would be difficult and uncomfortable.”

After a few exchanges, I understood the master’s point. The master, noticing that I’d caught on, concluded the lesson in his characteristic kind yet firm voice.

“That’s how it is. Etiquette is important. But etiquette shouldn’t torment people.”

If I wanted to nitpick, I could have argued endlessly. But I didn’t feel like it.

“Please tell me your name. As a disciple, I should know my master’s name.”

“As I said before, I’m not someone worth naming. Just consider me a passing ordinary person.”

Ah, I see. Raising an eyebrow, I glanced at the master’s ugly face for a moment before standing straight and putting down my stick.

With the support gone, my crippled right leg trembled wildly, throwing off my balance.

What are you doing? Grab something immediately. Or just fall to the ground. My right leg screamed in protest, sending signals of pain.

Gritting my teeth and sweating, I ignored the signals from my body. I stepped forward with my good left leg and knelt.

Thud!

My right leg gave out halfway, and I ended up slamming my knee into the ground. But the posture was roughly complete.

I clasped my hands in front of me, bowed, and showed my respect as a disciple to the master.

“Sima Mantian (司馬瞞天) humbly requests teachings from the passing ordinary person.”