Bok Taejin didn't have much of a martial arts foundation.
Watching the villagers pound meat, all he could perceive was a sense of powerful, overflowing physical beauty.
Im Beomhyeon kept shouting nearby—complaining one moment that someone was swinging their pestle with too much force, then that someone else's stance was wrong, then that someone else should lift the pestle a little more to the left and strike a bit more to the right when it came down...
Jeong Daehu was the first one among the meat-pounders to put down his pestle and walk over.
After wiping the sweat from his face with a cloth that was tucked into his waistband, he pointed to a pot of meat that had just finished cooking.
"Beomhyeon, why don't you come pound this batch a bit?"
Bok Taejin had a phrase pop into his head: You do it if you're so good at it.
