Chapter 8. Dream Awakening (8)

Chapter 8. Dream Awakening (8)

"R-really? Are you serious? You won't act like a fool anymore?"

"Yes. That's what I'm saying," replied Woo-Moon, his tone turning grumpy without him realizing it. He was more than a bit irritated that he could not get back into the dream anymore.

"Wahhhhhhhhhh!" Dae-Woong suddenly burst into an uncontrollable sob completely unbefitting of his size and age.

"Wh-what? Dad, what's the matter? Why are you crying!" Woo-Moon was taken aback.

With his menacing face streaked with tears, Dae-Woong replied, "Hearing that my son will no longer be a fool and will finally act normal, I'm just so happy...I can't hold back my tears."

"What? Why are you crying over something so silly? Didn't you always tell me that a real man should only cry three times in his life?"

Despite his words, Woo-Moon felt the weight of his father's emotions heavy on his heart. He felt his nose prickling and tears starting to form in his eyes. He regretted his early irritation.

'Perhaps I really was a fool to be so entranced by that landscape painting that I was oblivious to the feelings of my parents. I wasn't even a filial son...'

It was only at this moment that this huge realization dawned on him.

Meanwhile, the people at the inn were watching Dae-Woong sobbing like a child, and they were chuckling to themselves.

With a choked voice, Woo-Moon shouted, "What are you guys looking at? Have you never seen someone cry before?"

***

A young boy stood before Woo-Moon. He was a quiet child. Though the room was full of boisterous laughter and chatter, he was alone in the corner and did not utter a single word.

'He's... just like my younger self.'

While Woo-Moon was engrossed in his thoughts, someone stealthily approached him from the side and remarked, "He was such a good boy. Isn't he adorable?"

The individual was none other than the old Daoist who had drawn the landscape painting and left when Woo-Moon was younger.

Just before Woo-Moon could respond, the scene before him rapidly changed.

They were now in a gloomy room. The boy was lying in bed with his eyes closed, while the old Daoist sat by his bedside.

"I'm sorry, child. It seems I failed to keep my promise. Sigh... Is the Solar Physique really an insurmountable obstacle?" the old man murmured to himself as he stared at the boy in bed.

Woo-Moon was watching the scene when the old Daoist suddenly disappeared and appeared next to him once more.

"My desire to correct a mortal's Solar Physique ultimately delayed my transcendence."

Then images flashed by, showing season after season, year after year, failure after failure as the old Daoist tried to cure this terrible condition. Ten years, fifty years, a hundred years, two hundred years... he persistently labored, but his efforts bore no fruit.

The Solar Physique was a condition of those born with extremely strong Yang energy. The imbalance of Yang and Yin in their bodies led to fragility and ultimately caused their heart meridians to burn out by the age of twenty.

It was a condition so rare that only one individual was born with it every hundred years or so. Thus, many were not even aware of this condition, physicians included.

Time continued to flow. And after many years of labor, all he had to show for it was his memories of watching five children with this condition meet their demise. It was only much later that he finally managed to create what he thought was an appropriate cultivation technique.

Then, a little while after that, he met young Song Woo-Moon.

'That's me?'

Woo-Moon was now watching a younger version of himself staring blankly at the landscape painting. Suddenly, his consciousness was pulled into his younger self.

He saw the Celestial Sect's Forbidden Divine Art filling his body and correcting the Absolute Yang energy imbalance.

The Forbidden Divine Art sought infinite harmony, while the Gentle Celestial Sword sought the power of a sword that could pierce through all things in existence.

The next task was to clean the inn. He first swept the dust off the floor with a broom and then carefully mopped every corner with a wet rag.

Of course, tasks aside, he had not forgotten to take down the landscape painting—well, the blank canvas that used to be the landscape painting—and carefully put it away in his room.

"What in the world were you doing? Why is everything so dirty?" Woo-Moon muttered to himself as he diligently mopped the floor.

Just then, he felt a presence next to him.

"Huh? Oh, Mom—uh, Mother!"

His frail mother, Baek Jin-Jin, was watching him as she leaned against the wall. A faint smile was etched on her face.

Woo-Moon wiped off the beads of sweat on his forehead and rushed toward his mother.

"Why did you come all the way out here? It's still early, and the morning air is cold. Please go back in, Mother."

His tone and way of address towards her had drastically changed.

Jin-Jin stared at her son's face with a gratified expression.

"To see you working in your father's stead the moment the sun rose and speaking in a way that fits your age.... It makes me so happy! Thank you, Woo-Moon, thank you."

Jin-Jin then lifted a hand and gently caressed Woo-Moon's cheek. Her hand was warm, but Woo-Moon could feel another kind of warmth even more—a warmth that radiated from within her.

He placed his hand on hers. Despite his mother's young age, her delicate hand had faint wrinkles and felt bony. Feeling his mother's hand, Woo-Moon felt a piercing ache in his chest.

"Now, quickly get back in, or Father will be worried."

"Alright. Help your mother a bit."

Her body was so light that it was heartbreaking. Even as he supported her, he could barely feel any weight.

According to what he had heard, his mother used to cough a lot, but was mostly in good health when both his parents had just gotten married. However, as time passed, her health had gradually worsened, and after bearing two children, she had become as frail as she was now. Her declining health had also changed her personality, and he had heard that she used to be much tougher and livelier when she was in good health.

He was about to leave after lying Jin-Jin down on the bed, but the latter reached out and tightly grabbed his hand. She said, "I'm so happy that you have come around. Seeing you before, as a mother, I... I..."

Jin-Jin could not finish her sentence as tears welled up in her eyes.

'I'm really such a bad person. I'm the worst, most ungrateful child ever.'

Woo-Moon held back his tears and left the room. His father, Dae-Woong, had coincidentally woken up just then, and he followed Woo-Moon out.

"Woo-Moon! Huh? You actually woke up early?"

When Woo-Moon was in his dreamy state, he always woke up only when the sun was hanging high in the sky. As such, Dae-Woong was glad that he could see his son awake at such an early time.

Woo-Moon turned his head to avoid having his father see his red eyes. He called out, "Father."

"Hmm? What did you call me just now?"

Suddenly, Dae-Woong's expression shifted.

"You.... Did you just call me 'Father'?"

It was surprising enough that his son had woken up so early, but he had changed the way he addressed Dae-Woong from “dad” and “pops” to “father.”

"I'll help with the inn from now on. Please give me all the hard tasks you can think of."

That was the final blow.