Chapter 106
Chapter 106
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: uly
Chapter: 106
Chapter Title: After the Long Fight
-----------------------------------------------------------------
It was a long fight.
Wi Seong-cheon steadied his breathing and lifted his head. The stands were packed. The finals for the other brackets had already ended, and many students' faces were visible among the crowd.
Among them were plenty of faces Wi Seong-cheon recognized. Jeong Mi-ju and U Ha-yeon, Seo Baek.
Dang Hee-ran and Paeng Yeon-hwa, Bang Jun were there too, along with Dang Seona, Tae Hee-myeong, Hwangbo Seong-u, and others.
And Mu Yeon-jun was there as well.
"What in the world... is this...?"
One of the sect leaders from the Nine Great Righteous Sects muttered haltingly. No one had anticipated this outcome.
The hidden dragon of the Heavenly Flower Sect had defeated Shaolin's Little Buddha Statue. The shocking result left the spectators too stunned to cheer.
"In all my years... what kind of fight was that...!"
"Even street thugs fight with more decorum than that."
The renowned elders whispered among themselves. Rolling on the ground and grappling was something they considered utterly shameful for any righteous warrior.
To these dignified and esteemed elders, Wi Seong-cheon's style of rolling on the dirt, twisting, and breaking his opponent looked anything but proper.
In truth, their outrage stemmed from deference to the gaze of Abbot Myeongjin, Jin-woo's master and Shaolin's head.
"It was splendid."
But the abbot himself said exactly that.
He gazed down at Wi Seong-cheon and Jin-woo with deep, profound eyes. His disciple lay sprawled on the ground, both arms broken, neck choked until he lost consciousness. Abbot Myeongjin slowly rose to his feet.
"The hidden dragon of the Heavenly Flower Sect... That title feels almost too small for the boy."
"But that fight just now..."
"Did the boy resort to cowardly tactics?"
The abbot turned to those around him and asked. Everyone fell silent at his words.
"...In terms of pure skill, Jin-woo was superior."
The Arhat Hall Leader murmured. Deep regret colored his voice. But Abbot Myeongjin shook his head.
"Jin-woo failed to properly gauge his opponent's capabilities. Blinded by overconfidence, he couldn't even showcase his own true strength—that means his vision was narrower than the boy's. He lost the battle of wits, so defeat was inevitable. Jin-woo's loss came from his own shortcomings, and because the Heavenly Flower Sect's hidden dragon proved superior."
With that, Abbot Myeongjin clapped his hands together.
Clap!
The sharp sound of applause rang out clearly amid the crowd's shock and silence.
"The young lord has won."
"Yes."
Wi Ju-seok nodded slightly. U Chong-gwan glanced at the clan leader's expression and smirked.
"You don't seem satisfied."
"...No, it's not that. It's just... the feeling is a bit off."
Wi Ju-seok muttered as he scanned the surroundings. The applause, started by the abbot, was spreading like contagion. He could feel the emotions in the gazes directed their way shifting.
Those were gazes unfamiliar to Wi Ju-seok. They made him uneasy... and seeing Wi Seong-cheon gasping for breath filled him with pity.
Jin-woo was strong. His raw power surpassed Wi Seong-cheon's. The reversal had come because Wi Seong-cheon had dragged him into the flow he intended.
He had no choice but to acknowledge it. Wi Ju-seok took pride in his son's victory.
But.
'This is as far as it goes.'
Wi Ju-seok eyed his son with a bittersweet gaze. No one would dare ignore or doubt the Heavenly Flower Sect's hidden dragon now. The way people viewed the sect would change accordingly.
Back at the sect, things would get bothersome. Word would spread, and hordes would come begging to be taken as disciples. They'd brushed them off easily enough until now.
"You'll have your hands full, U Chong-gwan."
"Indeed."
U Chong-gwan shrugged. It fell to him to politely dissuade those seeking discipleship.
'The main tournament is out of the question.'
It wasn't just them bothering Wi Ju-seok.
His son's injuries were severe.
In his desperate flailing, Jin-woo's Bullet Finger Gong had punched several holes into Wi Seong-cheon's body.
On top of that, his right thumb dangled loosely, bent at an unnatural angle. The bones in his entire hand were surely cracked. Forcing a once-crushed hand like that was only natural to worsen it. And repeatedly cycling his energy had likely caused internal injuries as well.
Yet Wi Seong-cheon showed no sign of pain. He hadn't uttered a single groan throughout the fight. Even now, he stood as if nothing was wrong, staunching the wounds from the Bullet Finger Gong.
That calm composure unnerved many onlookers. Wi Ju-seok felt heartache. When Wi Seong-cheon was young, it was he who had trained him to endure and grow accustomed to pain.
'Too soon to declare him the Heavenly Dragon.'
Wi Seong-cheon glanced at the crowd and thought. He had won, but he still fell short of claiming a new title. Had he overwhelmed with orthodox techniques, it might have been fitting—but he hadn't.
'Not yet.'
His eyes met Jeong Mi-ju's. She stared at him in disbelief, hardly able to believe it. She recalled what Wi Seong-cheon had said a few days prior.
'I plan to claim a new title at a fitting occasion, so give me your loudest applause when the time comes.'
Was it now? Jeong Mi-ju watched his lips intently. If he declared himself the Heavenly Dragon, she would stand and clap with all her might. His victory had impressed her deeply.
Because she had never truly believed he would win.
Wi Seong-cheon noticed her bracing herself. A smirk escaped him. He considered jokingly claiming the Heavenly Dragon title but decided against it.
He knew he wasn't ready yet.
Instead, he raised his hand and waved slowly.
* * *
After the match ended, Jin-woo and Wi Seong-cheon were both taken to the medical ward—on good terms. Jin-woo, still unconscious, was carried on a stretcher, while Wi Seong-cheon walked on his own.
He didn't think it necessary, but the worried stares were so insistent he couldn't refuse.
Besides, his injuries were indeed severe.
His right hand was freshly wrapped in bandages. Ointment had been applied to the holes from the Bullet Finger Gong, then tightly bound.
He had also drunk a bitter decoction to treat his internal injuries. Even so, he hadn't caught his breath properly.
"Thank you."
The sudden words made Wi Seong-cheon bolt upright from his bed. The visitor was unexpected.
"Y-Yes?"
Wi Seong-cheon panicked.
It was Shaolin's abbot, Myeongjin.
"G-Greetings, Abbot."
"No need for formalities. I came unannounced, so I've failed in etiquette first."
Abbot Myeongjin gave a wry smile. Wi Seong-cheon hurriedly straightened himself. Watching him, the abbot shook his head.
"Relax. How are your injuries?"
"I... Yes. I'm fine."
Wi Seong-cheon subtly hid his bandaged right hand under the blanket. Abbot Myeongjin chuckled softly and approached. After a moment's hesitation, Wi Seong-cheon asked,
"...What do you mean by thank you? I'm too ignorant to grasp your intent."
"For not destroying Jin-woo."
The abbot fixed Wi Seong-cheon with a deep gaze. Wi Seong-cheon cleared his throat awkwardly.
"...There was no need. And as for showing mercy... Senior Jin-woo did so first."
In the decisive moment, Jin-woo had refrained from lethal strikes. That was Wi Seong-cheon's aim.
Jin-woo had said he fought to uphold Shaolin's honor. As long as he held to that, he would never stoop to Shaolin's shame. At close range, the Tathagata Divine Palm could easily become a killing blow if landed properly.
"That was part of your plan too."
Wi Seong-cheon smiled instead of replying.
"...Upholding Shaolin's honor. Fine words. But they bound the boy too tightly."
Abbot Myeongjin let out a long sigh.
"Please don't hold too much grudge against Jin-woo. Excessive expectations and attention can twist the heart. As his master, I should have corrected him, but his exceptional talent only amplified his flaws."
"Master."
The door creaked open. Neither Wi Seong-cheon nor the abbot were surprised. In walked Jin-woo, pale-faced, arms bandaged. He shook his head as he entered.
"There's no need for you to speak, Master."
"I'm merely confessing my failings."
"You have no failings, Master. It was I who clung to illusions and fell short."
Jin-woo spoke quietly. Abbot Myeongjin turned to him in astonishment. He hadn't expected such words from his prideful disciple.
"Master, would you give us the room?"
Jin-woo bowed his head. The abbot regarded him briefly, then chuckled and pressed his palms together.
"I worried defeat might crush you, but that was my needless fear."
Jin-woo smiled silently. The abbot nodded at his disciple's smile. It truly befitted the title of Little Buddha Statue. With a hearty laugh, Abbot Myeongjin passed Jin-woo and left the room.
"You look a mess, layman."
Jin-woo approached with a wry smile. Wi Seong-cheon blinked at him, then burst out laughing.
"You're one to talk, Senior."
"Thanks to you."
Jin-woo sat beside him, gazing at his heavily bandaged arms.
"Thanks to you, I won't be able to clasp hands or bow for a while."
"You don't need clasped hands or bows to pay respects to the Buddha."
"It's the heart that matters."
Jin-woo looked up.
"Outside, they're drawing lots for tomorrow's finals bracket."
"Ah, that explains why no one's visiting."
"Not entirely. Master cleared out the medical staff. Seems he wanted you to talk undisturbed."
Wi Seong-cheon had suspected as much. The healers' presences had vanished just before the abbot arrived.
"I'm content with the result."
Jin-woo said quietly.
"I was so fixated on upholding Shaolin's honor that I failed to see you clearly. That's on me. If anything, I'm grateful to you."
Wi Seong-cheon silently met his gaze. Jin-woo smiled faintly.
"Losing like this let me realize my notions were mere illusions. I lost, and you won. That's all. I couldn't uphold Shaolin's honor, but what can you do? It was my failing."
"If we fight again, I won't win so easily."
"Haha, no need to console me. I'm not that downcast. If anything, I feel refreshed."
Jin-woo laughed and shook his head. There was no lie in his words. He had lost before everyone.
"I truly am grateful to you, layman."
Jin-woo bowed his head slowly.
"Before losing consciousness... I desperately clung to awareness, thinking of something."
I can't lose here. Not again. For me, for Shaolin.
"But I blacked out anyway. In that moment... I realized how futile my stubbornness was. At first, I told you this."
There is no such thing as a light defeat in this world. Even an intentional one.
That's why I can't lose.
I don't want to lose anymore.
Especially not in a place like this.
"Losing in such a place made me see it. No one—no warrior—can win forever. Even the world's greatest face defeat time and again. To learn that simple truth from public humiliation... haha. Ironic, isn't it?"
Jin-woo said with a laugh.
"Shaolin was strong."
Wi Seong-cheon replied quietly.
"I felt that for sure. I won because you weren't used to my style of fighting. And because I led the flow. In raw power..."
"No, enough. There's nothing more to say."
Jin-woo shook his head.
"Shaolin's honor has suffered. And I couldn't restore it. That's all. Someday... it will be restored. It won't all fall to me, but thanks to you, I'll refine myself further."
With that, Jin-woo bowed once more.
"Thank you."
His gratitude held no lingering resentment. Wi Seong-cheon felt a touch of admiration for him.
"Fortunately, I'm not a complete fool. Not clever enough to grasp it instantly, though."
"Have you lost before?"
Wi Seong-cheon tilted his head. Jin-woo gave an embarrassed smile.
"It's not widely known. Earlier this year, on my way back alone from Mount Song to the Heavenly Academy... I was ambushed."
"Pardon?"
"It was sudden."
He had sent the other disciples ahead and left Mount Song later himself. No special reason.
They had traveled together from the Heavenly Academy, but no need to return the same way. Hardly any real freedom.
The ambush came en route back.
"I call it an ambush, but he was courteous. Just masked, so I couldn't identify him."
He had politely cupped his fists and said,
I apologize for not revealing my face or name.
If you're able and willing, won't you cross hands with me?
"Nothing unusual."
As fame grows, so do challengers seeking a match. Little Buddha Statue Jin-woo, pride of the Dragon-Phoenix. Countless had coveted the honor of toppling him.
Jin-woo had accepted with a smile. He didn't dislike such challenges. He never imagined defeat—and he lost.
"Perhaps that's when I started fixating on illusions..."
Jin-woo murmured. Wi Seong-cheon stared at him in surprise.
"But I've never heard rumors of your defeat."
"Exactly. Strange, isn't it? Even after felling me, he was courteous. Cupped his fists, praised me. Said it was truly Shaolin martial arts."
The smile faded from Jin-woo's face.
"I couldn't accept it. A private defeat known only to us—but I refused to acknowledge it."
"Any guess who he was?"
Jin-woo shook his head at the question.
"No idea. His arts were utterly unfamiliar and bizarre. But when I demanded his identity, he awkwardly gave his title."
Black Heaven Young Lord.
"I've never heard that title."
"I told him the same. Never heard of it."
Jin-woo smiled wryly as he rose.
"Then he said,"
It's not known yet.
"But someday, it will be."