Surviving as a Cripple in murim – Prologue

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Teottry
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Mancheon (瞞天) – To cover the sky, to deceive the heavens.

Sima Bu, the head of the current Sima family, rubbed his chin as he gazed at the darkened sky, thick with storm clouds obscuring the sun, even though it was midday. His expression was complex.

“Huh… Such a strange occurrence on such an auspicious day…”

If it were raining, he could dismiss it as a natural phenomenon, but there was no rain. Only dark clouds blanketed the entire sky, casting a gloom over the world.

Today was the day, after a long and arduous wait, that Sima Bu’s second child was to be born.

He had spared no expense in hiring a skilled midwife and physician to ensure the health of both mother and child, and had made all the necessary preparations. But now, with the heavens behaving so strangely, Sima Bu’s heart was filled with unease.

Pacing anxiously outside the room, his gaze fixed on the ominous sky, Sima Bu wondered if he should summon a Taoist priest and purchase a protective talisman. Just then, the loud cry of a newborn baby echoed from within the room.

“Waaaaah! Waaaaah! Waaah! Waaah!”

What a strong cry! It must be a boy.

As Sima Bu entered the room to see his child and his wife, who had endured much, the physician and midwife bowed their heads, their faces etched with concern.

“It seems both mother and baby are safe. Why the grave expressions?”

“The thing is… your second son… he was born with a clubfoot.”

So the strange sky was an ill omen after all.

The news that his child, who should have been born healthy and showered with a mother’s love, had a congenital disability, brought a wave of grief that Sima Bu forced himself to swallow.

He wanted to curse the heavens, but he knew his wife would be suffering the most. His kind and gentle wife would surely blame herself, believing she had done something wrong during her pregnancy to cause their child’s disability.

So, Sima Bu forced a cheerful smile as he lifted his son, wrapped in swaddling clothes.

“So what if he has a clubfoot? He’s still my precious child. My, isn’t he handsome?”

The baby was plump and round like a little rice cake. He fidgeted constantly, moving his fingers and mouth, and sniffing the air curiously.

Somehow, he seemed remarkably intelligent.

Perhaps this was what it meant to be a parent. How could a newborn seem intelligent? What kind of intelligence could a baby possess?

Holding his child, Sima Bu looked at the strange sky, still covered with dark clouds despite the midday sun.

Indeed, how could humans comprehend the will of heaven? No one knew whether today’s phenomenon was a good omen or a bad one. Nothing was yet determined.

“Mancheon.”

Sima Bu unconsciously muttered to himself as he looked up at the peculiar sky. He had decided on his child’s name.

“To deceive (瞞), Heaven (天). Mancheon (瞞天). Sima Mancheon (司馬瞞天).”

“Waaaaah! Waaah!”

Did he understand his name? A smile spread across Sima Bu’s face as he soothed his loudly crying child.

“There, there. Yes, I am your father, Mancheon.”

A strange child born on a strange day with a darkened sky. As a man, before even as a father, Sima Bu became curious about how this child would grow.

But Sima Bu would never know that due to a strange shift in the heavens’ energy, his son was a reincarnated soul carrying memories of a past life.

The reincarnated soul, named Sima Mancheon by a twist of fate, cried even louder due to a bodily function, and Sima Bu lovingly soothed and comforted him.

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10 YEARS LATER

The second son of the Sima family had a clubfoot. And a difficult personality.

“Yut – Gae. First, Gae to Jji-yut, then to Jji-mo. Then with Yut, turn to Mo-gae and take a piece. Since I took one, I throw again.”

While the child whose piece had been taken sulked, Sima Mancheon, his face alight with excitement, rubbed his palms together and picked up the four yut sticks.

With a flick of his wrist, he tossed them.

Clatter, clatter

The sticks danced with a pleasant sound, bouncing, colliding, and rolling across the floor, a dance that decided winners and losers, smiles and tears.

Do! Do! Do!

The child with only one piece left clutched the bag of candy he’d wagered, his grip tight with sweat, chanting in his heart. He’d even snuck out the candy his mother had hidden. If he lost here, it wouldn’t just end with a scolding.

If only sheer willpower could determine the outcome of the throw! But it was always the player’s hand and the heavens’ luck that decided.

“Mo.”

The heavens chose Sima Mancheon.

The child, shocked by the result, collapsed to the floor, his knees buckling. But when it came to yut, Sima Mancheon showed no mercy.

“Alright. Mo, so I go again.”

With a wicked grin, devoid of compassion, Sima Mancheon tossed the sticks again. This time, it was Gae. An ordinary throw. But it didn’t matter. The moment Mo appeared, the game was already over.

“From Mo-gae to Mo, and then Do, Gae, Geol, Yut, Mo.”

Sima Mancheon’s last piece passed the other child’s lone piece, poised just one space away from the finish line, and landed in the back Mo space. Now all of Mancheon’s pieces were in. The game was over.

“Let me see… the bet was that first place takes all the candy from second and third place. Hmm, I’m quite lucky today.”

He pretended to think, even though he remembered the terms perfectly. This was how Sima Mancheon toyed with his defeated opponents.

“I, I can’t give you this. M-Mancheon… we’re friends, right? Just this once… just this once…”

The child stammered, tears welling in his eyes. But Sima Mancheon had his two chubby-cheeked sidekicks ready for just such an occasion. He gestured with his chin.

“You shouldn’t have made the bet if you didn’t want to lose. Why make me out to be the bad guy?”

The chubby sidekicks, their hands like plump Doraemon fists, easily snatched the candy bag from the crying child’s grasp. When it came to taking things from those who resisted, they were already professionals.

“N-No! No! Stop it! Don’t take it!”

The child curled up, trying to protect his candy, but in the world of children’s squabbles, size mattered. The slight child was no match for the two little tanks and burst into tears, his candy lost.

“Unrok is crying, Mancheon. What do we do?”

Seeing Unrok’s tears, brought on by the loss of his candy and the premonition of future torment, the chubby sidekicks panicked and looked to Mancheon.

“Hey, you can lose sometimes. Why are you crying? I’ll give you the candy back. Don’t cry.”

He returned the candy bag to the child’s small hands, but the tears continued to flow. Finally, Mancheon resorted to drastic measures.

“Take some yakgwa out of my snack pouch.”

He took a yakgwa, a traditional Korean confection, from his luxurious silk pouch and offered it to the crying child.

“Here, here. Don’t cry. Eat this. It’s expensive and delicious.”

“*Hiccup… hiccup… Thank you… it’s delicious. Munch, munch… hiccup…”

The tears finally subsided, but the sight of Unrok happily munching on the yakgwa triggered a riot among the other children.

“Why did only Unrok get his back? Give me my candy back!”

“Me too! Give me a yakgwa!”

If he let this continue, it would turn into a full-blown tantrum. He hated the sound of crying children.

“Alright, alright, I have plenty. Share amongst yourselves. I’ll give you your candy back too.”

“Yay! Mancheon is the best!”

This was how it usually went when Sima Mancheon played with the neighborhood kids. He would introduce new and interesting games, let the children get used to them, and then wager snacks on the outcome.

Sometimes, to teach them a harsh lesson about the world, he would actually keep their winnings, but most of the time, like today, he would return the candy he won and even share the snacks he brought from home.

“But Mancheon, why do you take the candy if you’re just going to give it back?”

One of the chubby sidekicks, munching on a yakgwa, voiced his curiosity. Sima Mancheon smiled at the children clutching their returned candy bags.

“I don’t take it because I want the candy. I take it because it’s fun to take candy from a crying kid.”

They didn’t understand. What was fun about taking candy you didn’t even intend to eat?

Leaving the confused, bulky child behind, Sima Mancheon leaned on his Staff and limped home.

“That’s enough playing for today. I’m going home for a nap. You all shouldn’t play too late either. Go home when you’re done.”

Ten years had passed since he’d woken up in this martial arts world.

Born with a clubfoot in a world that valued martial prowess, he had initially been worried, but he was managing to enjoy his second life.