Surviving as a Cripple in Murim – Chapter 58

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Teottry
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Chirp~! Chirp, chirp~! Tweet-tweet~!!

He slowly opened his eyes at the sound of sparrows chirping, awakening from a strange dream.

He had simply gone to the bathroom in the middle of the night,

and had ended up becoming the disciple of a beautiful, age-regressing martial arts master and having his precious partner, Taegu-zzang, confiscated for “bad habits.” It was a bizarre dream.

He chuckled, amused by the absurdity of it all, and sat up, stretching his stiff limbs, sore from sleeping on the floor.

On the bed, he saw his little blonde master sleeping soundly, Taegu-zzang clutched in her small, white hand.

He had given up his bed, seeing that she was a child, and, technically, his senior in the sect, his master.

The sunlight, glinting off her golden hair, and the sound of her steady breathing, brought the memories flooding back.

It hadn’t been a dream.

He had been utterly defeated by Wang Meiyang last night, and had Taegu-zzang confiscated for being too reliant on it, hindering his growth.

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Mancheon sat in the inn’s common area, staring at his empty right hand, and sighed deeply.

When he was younger, he had relied so heavily on his staff that he could barely walk without it.

However, after learning martial arts, his improved balance and the internal energy flowing through his body meant he was no longer completely dependent on it.

He had even regained some mobility in his leg after learning the Immovable Heart Method and Esoteric Buddhist external martial arts techniques. While still inconvenient, he could now move relatively quickly even without his staff.

But that was purely physical. Mentally, it was a different story.

It was like training wheels on a bicycle.

Even if you knew you could ride without them, actually removing them was a different matter entirely.

He had been using a staff since he first learned to walk.

No, he was born a cripple. He had learned to walk with a staff.

To him, his staff wasn’t just a piece of wood.

It was a leg, a hand, a partner, a support.

It had been with him when he scaled the high walls of his master’s estate on that cold winter night, when he risked his life to stop his precious disciple’s rampage, when he steeled his resolve to protect his younger sister, and when he fought against fifty assassins to protect a proud sword dancer.

It had been with him through every important moment, every hardship, in his life.

‘Hey, Taegu-zzang, you’re fired. Kicked out of the party.’

The words he had uttered so carelessly last night now echoed in his mind, a painful reminder of his thoughtlessness.

…It had simply been there for him, a constant presence, and yet he had compared it to other, flashier techniques.

“Innkeeper… bring me a bottle of baijiu. The strong stuff.”

The innkeeper was momentarily taken aback by the request for alcohol before even ordering a meal, but a customer was a customer, so he nodded.

“Certainly. And what would you like to eat with it?”

Mancheon shook his head.

“Nothing… I already have… something to eat…”

He didn’t need any snacks. His grief, his memories, were the only sustenance he needed.

The innkeeper, his gaze filled with pity, brought him the baijiu. Mancheon poured the clear liquid into a cup,

and downed it in a single gulp.

He savored the memories, the bittersweet nostalgia.

He looked at his trembling right hand, now empty. He had drunk to forget, but the memories wouldn’t fade.

He sighed, a melancholic ballad escaping his lips.

He poured himself another drink, trying to fill the void. He shook his head, his voice rising in a mournful song.

Longing for his partner, Mancheon sang.

‘Bakamitai (Like a fool)’

‘Dame da ne-! Dame yo-! Dame na no yo-!!’ (It’s no good, no good, no good at all!!)

‘Anata ga suki de! Suki! Suki de-!!’ (Because I love you! I love you so much!!)

Happy memories, like balloons, floated up, up, up.

‘Hee-hee~ Taegu-zzang~ You’re mine now!,’ ‘Ta-gu- Taegu! Tata-gu!!’ – He remembered the day he had “captured” Taegu-zzang with a monster ball.

‘Dore dake tsuyoi osake o nonde mo.’ (No matter how strong the alcohol,)

‘Wasurenai omoide ga.’ (The memories won’t fade.)

‘Bakamitai….’ (Like a fool…)

“Y-Young Master Sima, is something troubling you?”

Mancheon stopped his mournful singing and turned at the soft, gentle voice, his melodramatic performance interrupted.

“Drinking alcohol on an empty stomach is not good for your health, regardless of the reason.”

Xiaoshao, her clothes slightly damp from her morning training, stood before him, her face etched with concern.

He had simply been passing the time, having woken up early, but it seemed he had inadvertently worried her.

“It’s nothing. Thank you for your concern.”

It was nothing, really. Just a slightly expensive piece of wood being temporarily confiscated.

But seeing him like this, so unlike his usual cheerful, confident self, Xiaoshao couldn’t simply dismiss it.

She felt a tightness in her chest, a strange ache.

“You need your strength to overcome any hardship.”

She unconsciously reached out and placed a hand on his head, gently stroking his hair.

“I’ll have some porridge prepared for you. You should eat something first.”

Mancheon’s eyes widened at the unexpected warmth of her touch, his empty stomach and melancholic mood momentarily forgotten.

Perhaps it was the combination of the alcohol and the comforting atmosphere, but he leaned into her touch, seeking comfort, like a child.

“Wahhh! I’m baby Mancheon! Big Sister Nangong, feed me!”

“Wh-what?! Y-Young Master Sima, please! I’m… I’m sweaty from training…!!”

Xiaoshao’s cheeks flushed crimson, embarrassed at the thought of him smelling her sweat, but Mancheon only buried his face deeper into her chest.

Contrary to her worries, she smelled sweet, her scent pleasant and comforting. He wanted to stay like this forever.

But… the moment was short-lived. Having overindulged in the comfort of her embrace, Mancheon, now regressed to a childlike state, suddenly uttered the words he shouldn’t have said.

“Wahhh… not enough milk… where’s Yeonhwa? Older Brother is hungry…”

The warmth in Xiaoshao’s beautiful grey eyes vanished, replaced by a chilling coldness.

“Oof?!”

In a flash, a fist, moving faster than thought, faster than even Xiaoshao could register, connected with Mancheon’s jaw, knocking him unconscious.

She hadn’t punched him because he had commented on her breast size.

She hadn’t even been aware of throwing the punch, and was now staring at Mancheon, slumped unconscious in her arms, her face a mask of confusion.

But one thing… one thing remained clear.

A shadow fell over Xiaoshao’s face as she looked down at Mancheon.

‘Where’s Yeonhwa?’

The name of another woman, uttered by Mancheon, had sparked an unpleasant, unsettling feeling within her. She remembered that with unsettling clarity.

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He was receiving martial arts instruction from Xiaoshao in a private onsen bath within the inn.

“Your biggest weakness, Young Master Sima, is your inefficient use of qi.”

After he had been punched and knocked unconscious, Xiaoshao had kindly carried him back to his room, where she had encountered Wang Meiyang and learned of the situation. She had then offered to help him with his training.

“Teacher, I’ve never had any difficulty using qi in my techniques. I don’t understand what you mean.”

He raised his hand like a diligent student, eager to learn from someone more skilled than himself.

“That is because the staff technique you primarily use is exceptionally efficient.”

Her answer was unexpected. She explained:

While circulating qi within the body and releasing it externally were similar, they were also fundamentally different.

While he was skilled at circulating qi within his body, he was surprisingly inefficient at releasing it externally.

And the reason for this, ironically, was the efficiency of the Dog Beating Staff Technique.

The Dog Beating Staff Technique emphasized swift, fluid movements, overwhelming the opponent with a barrage of attacks, making it incredibly efficient in terms of internal energy expenditure.

As a result, he had never felt the need to refine his external qi control, as he could chain techniques together without straining his internal energy reserves.

He looked at his empty right hand.

‘You really were my training wheels…’

But… he couldn’t rely on it anymore. He had to learn to stand on his own two feet, to grow.

He clenched his fist and looked at Xiaoshao, bowing respectfully.

“Please, Sister Nangong, teach me how to control my external qi.”

This wasn’t the time to worry about learning the Boundless Azure Sky Sword Technique or the King’s Sword. He needed to focus on self-improvement, on addressing his weaknesses.

He straightened his back, his trembling right leg firmly planted on the ground.

He was eighteen. It was time to take off the training wheels.

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Btw he took a bath with her… 😳