Six days after the patriarch's recovery, the pavilion where Ji-Hoon resided was thoroughly cleaned.
Embroidered cushions were placed, an ancient vase set beneath the window, and a low table adorned with a still-warm teapot.
At dusk, Kang Ji-Yoon, the young woman from the Kang family, came to visit him, accompanied by three elders.
The eldest, straight-backed with crossed hands, opened the conversation without ceremony:
— "The Doctor of the East Wind saved our father. We cannot ignore that."
Ji-Hoon slightly bowed his head, without smiling.
— "I didn't save anyone. I just emptied an overfilled bowl."
The old man laughed, a dry chuckle:
— "That's a humble way to describe a technique unknown throughout the South. We offer you… a position. Officially. Resident doctor of the Kang family."
---
Ji-Hoon remained silent.
Then he spoke, cutting a tea leaf with his fingers:
— "I never stay where I am watched. My knowledge doesn't like cages."
Ji-Yoon intervened calmly:
— "No chains. Just a roof, food, and access to our manual room… with some limits."
Ji-Hoon raised his head.
— "Limits interest me. Especially what they reveal."
The patriarch, present behind a screen, coughed.
And murmured in a deep voice:
— "I don't like mysteries… but I like useful men. You're free to leave anytime. But if you stay, I ask you to watch over our children."
Ji-Hoon nodded. And replied:
— "Then I'll stay. As long as no one asks who I am."
---
The next day, he was moved to a new pavilion — larger, more secluded.
A silent assistant was assigned to him, and every day, he was granted an hour of access to the family's small library.
The first time he entered it, he felt his heart beat like in an empty wooden-floored dojo.
Martial manuals, treatises on Ki circulation, cultivation journals from long-gone masters.
He didn't touch anything.
But his eyes devoured everything.
---
Mental strategy:
Each evening, in the Library of the Soul, Ji-Hoon reconstructed what he had seen:
Sword techniques: "Red Ivy Blade"
Breathing postures: "Breath of the Misty Turtle"
Martial herbology treatise: "Roots and Meridians, Volume I"
He didn't copy.
He translated.
He decomposed each teaching into body equations, energy models, behavioral formulas.
And each fragment became… a piece on the chessboard.
---
Passive observation:
In the following days, he began observing the Kang family members:
The third son, arrogant but slow
The second daughter, a fine blade but poorly mastered Ki
An old guard whose leg limped from a circulation mistake
He silently healed some.
Advised others, quietly.
And wherever he went…
he was feared a little more.
Not for his fists.
But because he saw everything and said little.
---
One night, as the ink of the sky drowned the inner courtyard, Ji-Hoon meditated near a dry cherry tree.
He smiled.
And noted a phrase in his memory:
"Every family has its manual. Every clan, its blindness. What I want is not their respect. It's their oblivion. To better read them."
---
🔚 End of Phase 2 — The Invisible Path
Ji-Hoon is now rooted in Murim.
He has a functional identity, a roof, a useful reputation, and increasing access to martial knowledge.
But he is only a guest…
And soon, the time will come when masks must multiply.
---
To be continued: