He had long been an ardent devotee of wuxia.
Though only twenty-one, he had already become such a seasoned veteran of wuxia—a ‘moo-teul-ttak’ (TL Note: A portmanteau of ‘wuxia’ and ‘old-timer,’ referring to someone with an encyclopedic, often pedantic, knowledge of wuxia lore)—that he could easily exasperate most authors in the genre.
[Nameless: How could the ‘Full Sky Floral Rain’ (Mantian Huayu) have originated from the Sichuan Tang Clan? Has this author never even read Jin Yong’s ‘The Legend of the Condor Heroes’ before attempting to write wuxia? Listen closely, writer, the ‘Full Sky Floral Rain’ was first mastered by Hong Qigong, the Nine-Fingered Divine Beggar and Chief of the Beggar’s Sect.]
[ㄴ Fresh Beef Seaweed Soup: This user is ‘Nameless’; are they an orphan?]
“Whenever I so kindly impart such crucial information, the author’s staunch defenders invariably erupt in a frenzy,” he muttered.
Consequently, on platforms dedicated to wuxia novels, he had established himself as a recognizable, if notorious, reader.
[– Aripa: Excuse me, Nameless-nim, if I may inquire, what is your venerable age? One might surmise you at least witnessed the Japanese colonial era.]
[ㄴ Nameless: Twenty… one… you insolent whelp…]
[ㄴ Aripa: .]
[ㄴ Gangjin Muryongjang: This concept just begs for a slap.]
Despite the numerous adversaries his eccentric persona created, this peculiar method was, in its own way, how he savored the world of wuxia.
Naturally, there was a profound reason behind his adoption of such an unusual persona.
While he hadn’t intended to continue this charade past his twenties, hadn’t it often been said that if you exasperated an author enough, they might just grant you transmigration into their story?
That very notion was the impetus behind his peculiar online behavior.
His deepest aspiration was to become a chivalrous hero (Hyupsa (TL Note: A Korean term for a knight-errant or martial hero in wuxia fiction)) in a wuxia world, and in his own unique fashion, he had been continuously “submitting his resume” for such a role.
Yet, despite years of these ‘applications,’ no author possessing the power to grant transmigration had appeared.
Regardless, while he had initially adopted the persona with that specific intention, it eventually became amusing to him as it drew attention, prompting him to persist.
Then, one day, he awoke to find an utterly unfamiliar ceiling above him.
This was no ordinary, plastered ceiling, such as one might expect in a conventional home.
Given the presence of stalactites, it was unmistakably a cave, yet, curiously, these formations were utterly frozen solid.
And it wasn’t merely the stalactites; the entire chamber was encased in a pristine, white layer of ice.
*Whoosh.*
A subtly fragrant aroma wafted through the cavern, and a chilling breeze seemed to flow inward from an unseen source.
“Huh?”
At first, he simply assumed he was caught in a dream.
For doesn’t a long-cherished desire, upon its sudden fulfillment, often feel indistinguishable from a vivid dream?
It was akin to the dazed disbelief of someone who, having yearned for a lottery win, finally clutches the winning ticket.
“This is real?”
Clichéd as it was, he instinctively pinched his cheek.
The pain, though present, was secondary to the startling sensation: his skin, which ought to have been coarse from years of labor, was now astonishingly soft, like an infant’s.
He tentatively moved towards the direction from which the cold breeze seemed to originate.
With no mirror or still pool of water nearby, he couldn’t discern his face, but the arms and legs he could see were undeniably not his.
Instead of the calloused skin of a laborer, his flesh had transformed into an unblemished, pristine complexion, as though he had undergone the legendary ‘Hwangoltaltae’ (TL Note: A wuxia concept of ‘bone-cleansing and marrow-transcending,’ referring to a complete physical transformation or rebirth) often described in martial arts novels.
“What in the world is happening?”
Utterly bewildered, he murmured to himself.
Though initially too disoriented to register it, he now realized his voice had also undergone a transformation.
It was the voice of a young boy, one whose vocal cords had yet to break.
Lowering his gaze to inspect his physique, he saw a diminutive form, undeniably that of a child.
A peculiar slight swelling in his chest prompted him to press it, and the sensation was distinctly unlike that of gynecomastia.
Having once been a ‘Turtle Chest Legionnaire’ (TL Note: A self-deprecating Korean slang term, ‘geobuk yubangdan,’ referring to men with gynecomastia or a noticeably protruding chest), he recognized the difference with absolute certainty.
“Hm?”
Involuntarily, he reached a hand between his thighs, and a shiver ran through him at the utter absence of what should have been there.
He was no longer *he*; he was *she*.
It was an utterly preposterous situation, yet given that she had already transmigrated into an entirely different world, a mere change in gender felt almost trivial in comparison.
While the circumstances remained utterly inscrutable, she decided to move nonetheless.
Without action, no answers would reveal themselves.
After a short while of walking, the cave’s exit came into view.
The exit opened slightly skyward, necessitating a climb up a jagged, protruding rock face.
As she finally stood at the mouth of the cave, a powerful gust of wind assailed her once more.
It was a wind so fierce it threatened to snatch her breath away, yet the breathtaking panorama before her made it impossible to avert her gaze.
Stretching before her was a mountain range of unparalleled majesty.
Turning her head left and right, she searched in vain for its end; the sheer grandeur and immense scale of the peaks seemed to stretch into infinity.
Where in all of Korea could such a place possibly exist?
Gazing upon the mountains, which appeared as if a celestial realm (Seongye (TL Note: A mythical realm of immortals or fairies in East Asian folklore)) had been transplanted directly onto the earth, she instinctively understood.
Her long-cherished dream had finally materialized.
She had been transported from a Republic of Korea where hope remained elusive, no matter how long one toiled, to the Central Plains, a land brimming with noble spirit and boundless potential.
Lost in contemplation of the magnificent mountain range, she instinctively prepared to step forward.
“Aaaah!”
The instant her foot met empty air, her body plummeted downwards.
Reacting instantly, she twisted her body, extended an arm, and managed to grasp a protruding ledge near the cave’s entrance.
“Insane!”
Beyond the cave mouth lay an absolutely sheer, precipitous cliff face.
Peering down, she saw only mist enshrouding the mid-section, obscuring the abyss below.
A sudden chill pierced her to the bone.
She immediately tensed her arms, preparing to haul herself back up.
Expecting a laborious struggle to support her entire body weight, she was astonished when she effortlessly vaulted back into the cave with a graceful, almost weightless landing.
The sensation of defying gravity as she ascended was an unexpected bonus.
This was undeniably a feeling she had never experienced in her previous life.
Could it be because she was now a denizen of the Central Plains, rather than a person from the Republic of Korea?
Had she still possessed her former body from Korea, climbing back up after dangling from such a cliff would have been an insurmountable task.
“So this is what it means to be a martial artist.”
She gazed at her small, pale palms with a sense of wonder, murmuring to herself.
“This is insane.”
A surge of exhilaration coursed through her.
Of course, even with the body of a martial artist, she couldn’t simply dash down a cliff whose bottom remained shrouded in mist.
She found herself instinctively able to discern the limits and capabilities of this new body.
It was as if she had inhabited this form for an eternity.
While further cultivation might change things, for now, descending that perilous cliff remained an impossible feat.
“Haaah.”
In the nameless mountains of the Central Plains, she drew a deep, cleansing breath.
The air, crisp and invigorating, cooled her very lungs—a purity utterly unlike anything she had ever experienced in Korea.
Merely inhaling the Central Plains’ air seemed to fill her with a man’s ‘Hoyeonjigi’ (TL Note: A Korean term for a vast, noble spirit or righteous indignation, often associated with Confucian scholars and warriors), yet, regrettably, such masculine vigor was now entirely superfluous to her.
But this moment of awe was fleeting.
Her mind, after all, had not transformed into that of a native Central Plains inhabitant, and thus the distinct anxieties of a modern person began to subtly surface.
If there truly was no other exit, how could she possibly descend that precipice?
Could she even survive and escape this cave in the first place?
And why had she abruptly become a woman?
“Sigh.”
A deep sigh immediately escaped her lips.
After all, a wuxia world was hardly likely to be a place solely brimming with dreams and hopes.
Life, it seemed, was a battlefield regardless of the realm one inhabited.
The immediate uncertainty of which novel she had transmigrated into was another significant source of unease.
If this particular novel happened to be the notoriously bleak “Drifting Warrior,” then her life would undoubtedly plunge into an even more hardcore level of difficulty than her previous existence in Korea.
Nevertheless, prioritizing survival, she resolved to postpone the daunting task of identifying the novel she now inhabited.
She began to slowly explore the cave’s interior.
A faint, unidentifiable light source emanated from the cave ceiling, making her exploration surprisingly manageable.
Venturing deeper into the cavern, she discovered a plaza-like area from which several passages branched off.
At the heart of this plaza stood a wooden cylinder, into which a rolled, dried piece of paper had been inserted.
She immediately approached the center, extracted the paper, and carefully unrolled it.
[Our So (Su) Clan’s pride, Rihwa (梨華 (TL Note: A traditional East Asian name, often meaning ‘pear blossom’ or ‘bright flower’)). You must be bewildered to awaken alone.]
So Rihwa, she mused.
It seemed this body’s name was indeed Sori Hwa. Sori Hwa continued to read the letter.
[To save you, this was the only recourse. You were born with the Nine Yin Severed Meridians, and the medical arts of our era deemed your condition incurable. With only ten years left to live at most, we had no choice but to feed you the Ten-Thousand-Year Ice Crystal, freezing your body itself. Perhaps in the future, a cure might be discovered.]
The letter was steeped in a parent’s desperate longing to save their daughter, even if it meant cryogenically preserving her, a child afflicted with the Nine Yin Physique.
[Should you awaken, you must first master the clan’s secret techniques contained within this cave. This is a formidable cave, protected by formations, making escape impossible without fully comprehending all the martial arts contained herein.]
No wonder, she thought.
It was clear this cave could not be exited empty-handed.
Her heart once again swelled with excitement.
According to this letter, there were martial arts techniques hidden within the cave!
[Even as I write this letter, with you frozen beside me, I already miss you dearly, my daughter. Please, survive. No matter what trials you face, I will be with you, so fear not and advance.]
The letter concluded there.
For Sori Hwa, who had been an orphan in her previous life, parental love was a rather unfamiliar concept, and strictly speaking, the letter wasn’t even addressed to her former self, yet it stirred a strange emotion within her.
Sori Hwa shook her head, dispelling the peculiar sentiment, and resumed her exploration of the cave.
With rooms branching out from the central plaza, she entered the nearest one first.
In the initial room, she found a tied-off sack, which, upon opening, revealed itself to be full of fragrant, bean-like pellets.
Sori Hwa hesitated for a moment, then picked up a pellet and chewed it.
Initially, it carried the scent of pine needles, then a taste of beans, before concluding with a lingering aroma reminiscent of Solomon’s Seal tea.
Chewing just one small pellet subtly alleviated her hunger, feeling much like receiving a high-dose injection of an anti-obesity drug.
As a seasoned wuxia expert, Sori Hwa immediately recognized what this was.
It was none other than Bigeokdan (TL Note: A type of martial arts sustenance pill in wuxia fiction, said to suppress hunger and provide energy for long periods), commonly consumed during martial arts training.
“So this is what Bigeokdan tastes like.”
Sori Hwa felt both satisfaction and relief.
She was thrilled to have experienced Bigeokdan from a wuxia novel, and simultaneously reassured that she wouldn’t starve to death.
Based on Sori Hwa’s knowledge, only one Bigeokdan pellet was needed per day, and the sack contained enough to last her at least ten years.
“Okay, no, this is the Central Plains, so I shouldn’t use English. Understood, understood.”
Lost in the intoxicating allure of wuxia, Sori Hwa wandered through the rooms.
The rooms varied in size and seemed to have different purposes.
Some areas featured stone bookshelves brimming with texts, likely serving as a repository for secret techniques, while others were vast, with wooden dummies at their centers, suggesting a training ground for martial arts.
The remaining rooms catered to basic living needs: a place to wash, or rather, to cleanse her body, and a place for bodily functions.
“Good.”
Sori Hwa clapped her hands.
The purpose of this cave was clear.
It was a secluded training ground (TL Note: ‘Pyeogwan-dong’ or ‘closed-door cultivation cave,’ a place for intense, uninterrupted martial arts training) exclusively for Sori Hwa.
While being thrust into a closed-door cultivation cave on her first day of transmigration felt a bit intense, upon reflection, it wasn’t a bad thing.
After all, wouldn’t venturing into the martial world untrained merely lead to being cut down by a third-rate bandit?
Given the existence of such a meticulously prepared space, the martial arts within must be extraordinary.
She imagined mastering all these techniques, emerging as an unparalleled expert, and embarking on a magnificent journey through the martial world.
Just thinking about it made her small chest swell with grand aspirations.
To have such a meticulously prepared space, tailored for one person, was truly astonishing.
Regardless of the novel or world she had transmigrated into, it was undoubtedly a stroke of immense luck for Sori Hwa.
She held this belief even when she realized the water droplets falling from the stalactites were ‘Gongcheong Seokyu’ (TL Note: A mythical elixir or spiritual liquid in wuxia, formed over centuries within caves, often possessing potent healing or cultivation properties), and even when she discerned that the secret techniques on the bookshelves contained profound, advanced principles.
…Yes, until then, everything had been utterly perfect.
****
However.
“Hey, you just used inner energy, didn’t you? Adding assault with a deadly weapon to your charges.”
“Don’t you know this is a demilitarized zone? Draw your sword.”
“Ah, it’s just a toy sword.”
After mastering the martial arts and barely descending the cliff…
“Did you hear about the audience numbers for ‘The Tales of the Jianghu Hero’ this time? They say it closed the theater with a final score of three thousand viewers.”
“In this day and age, who reads traditional wuxia? Honestly, these guys have no sense of what’s good anymore.”
The Central Plains she first encountered after descending the mountain…
“…Seriously, this is messed up.”
It was very different from the world Sori Hwa knew.
