Training – Jimin 4
As he would handle soldiers in the army, he gave her no time to catch her breath.
"Take the chamjeong stance."
Jimin's eyes flickered for a moment.
But without a word, she spread her feet and bent her knees.
Her back straightened, shoulders lowered, gaze fixed forward.
The soil of the mountain pressed up through the soles of her feet.
The wind brushed past her ears.
"I practiced this often when I was young."
She steadied her breathing as she spoke.
As the daughter of a martial household, the chamjeong stance was the most basic of fundamentals, etched into her body.
"Do it when you are old as well."
Soun's reply was even.
"Until it works."
It was a short sentence.
Her thighs slowly began to tighten.
The moment her shoulders started to rise with tension, Soun spoke.
"Lower your shoulders."
Jimin clenched her teeth and released the force.
"My breathing is growing short."
"Do not endure the breath. Let it flow."
"I have already set the posture."
"You are not set. You are enduring."
The words struck.
Enduring and standing were different.
Sweat formed on her brow.
Her thighs trembled.
Her toes dug into the dirt.
Time lengthened.
The sounds atop the mountain sharpened, then seemed to fade away.
"What meaning does this have?"
"While you endure, your qi scatters.
When you stand, it gathers."
"I do not know the difference."
"That is why we do it."
There was no further explanation.
Her breathing grew rough.
Her knees quivered almost imperceptibly.
Soun stepped closer and pressed lightly against her back with his fingertips.
"Your lower back is collapsing."
It was brief contact.
Jimin gritted her teeth and straightened again.
It was military training.
There was no encouragement.
No comfort.
No praise.
Only—until it works.
She began to understand with her body why the White Dragon Unit had become so solid.
Her legs trembled.
But she did not sink.
Soun drew a folded sheet of paper from his robe.
It was filled tightly with written oral formulas.
The brushstrokes were thin and precise.
Short sentences arranged at even intervals.
On another day, she would have admired the script itself.
"Hold this and read."
He placed the paper into her hands.
"Read it aloud while maintaining the stance."
Jimin lowered her eyes and scanned the text.
The lines traced breath and the flow of meridians.
The words were simple, yet carried rhythm.
"Read."
She began to recite in a low voice.
At first clearly, then woven together with her breath.
The chamjeong stance did not change.
Her knees remained bent, her back straight.
The paper trembled slightly in her hands.
Before long, her thighs began to shake again.
Soun lifted a thin stick he had picked up somewhere.
It was slender, no thicker than a finger.
Tap.
He struck her knee lightly.
"It is collapsing inward."
Tap.
He touched the side of her thigh.
"Release the tension."
Tap.
The stick brushed the side of her calf.
"Do not endure."
The blows were not strong.
But they were exact.
The corrections were brief.
If another man had done so, Jimin would certainly have been angered.
To touch a young woman's legs with a stick on a mountainside could easily be taken as rudeness.
But this was different.
Soun's eyes did not waver even once.
There was no calculation, no playfulness, no curiosity in his gaze.
He saw only posture and breath.
"Your eyes are wavering."
Still reciting, Jimin fixed her gaze again.
"Your weight is shifting to your toes."
She relaxed her toes.
"Your lower back is sinking."
She straightened once more.