Chapter 224
Chapter 224
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 224
Chapter Title: Plum Blossoms in Paradise
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Is the Pure Land like this?
The training ground—no, the entire world—was enveloped in a golden radiance.
"Amitabha."
The monks, led by Won-eum, unconsciously pressed their palms together and chanted the Buddha's name.
Crack!
A foreboding sound echoed through the air.
At the same moment, a long, thin trajectory slashed across the golden light.
An exceedingly faint trail.
Yet because it cut through the golden glow that blanketed the world, everyone could see it.
Thin, but strikingly clear.
"Could it be...?"
Before the uncertain murmur—whose it was, no one knew—could finish, the trajectory sharpened, cleaving the golden light in two.
Slash!
It was a small, subdued sound.
But the result it wrought was astonishing.
Whoosh!
The bisected golden light exploded in an instant, replaced by a spray of crimson.
"...!"
"He broke the precept against killing?!"
A few who assumed Won-ho was responsible stomped the ground to charge.
But they soon halted upon witnessing the scene before them.
The red was not blood.
It was...
"Flowers...?"
Vivid red plum blossoms.
In Shaolin's grounds, where only verdant trees stood, plum blossoms began to bloom and scatter.
The monks stared in a daze.
It was a miracle.
One of breathtaking, dreamlike beauty.
"Could this be Mount Hua Sect's Plum Blossom Sword Art? Is the young hero from Mount Hua?!"
Won-eum gasped in astonishment as he gazed at the plum blossoms painting the sky.
Thud.
The sound of knees hitting the ground rang out.
The monks, entranced by the blossoms filling the air, whipped their heads toward the training ground.
Their jaws dropped.
There, Won-ho and the Eighteen Arhats knelt on one knee, breathing raggedly.
And at the center of the training ground stood Cheonhwi, sword lowered in his grip, posture straight and unscathed.
As if nothing had happened.
"Impossible!"
Won-eum doubted his own eyes.
He couldn't believe it.
The Eighteen Arhats Formation was Shaolin's pride, an invincible array.
And yet, this outcome!
Won-eum rubbed his eyes with his hands.
Was it an illusion?
But no matter how many times he rubbed them open and shut, the scene remained unchanged.
"The Eighteen Arhats Formation broken so futilely..."
Won-eum trembled, unable to finish his words.
Though he had witnessed the result with his own eyes, his pride in Shaolin refused to utter the word "defeat."
But.
"To dismantle even the Eighteen Arhats Formation in the end—that bastard's no ordinary foe."
The words Won-eum couldn't voice rang out plainly, accompanied by a tongue-click from beside him.
Cheon-i-gae smirked deliberately loud enough for Won-eum to hear.
'Who would've thought I'd live to see lofty Shaolin so utterly flattened. Heh heh heh.'
He chuckled inwardly.
Shaolin had always maintained an aloof, transcendent air, no matter what transpired.
Seeing them so shocked was utterly amusing.
Then Dam-mokrin asked,
"Will Senior Brother be alright?"
"Pfft-haha! You're worrying about the wrong one here."
Unable to hold back at Dam-mokrin's concern, Cheon-i-gae burst into laughter.
Everyone present knew it.
Cheonhwi stood tall and proud, while the Eighteen Arhats knelt.
"The ones to worry about are them."
As Cheon-i-gae pointed at the Eighteen Arhats.
"Sorcery!"
Won-ho bellowed.
As if he couldn't accept the reality, he ground his teeth and shouted with eyes full of disbelief.
"Grr! If not sorcery, how could anyone break the Eighteen Arhats Formation...!"
"Sigh. Sorcery, my foot."
Cheonhwi cut him off.
"Tsk tsk. And if it were sorcery, shouldn't it have overwhelmed you even more? Especially against Shaolin's famed Eighteen Arhats Formation."
Won-ho trembled with rage.
He had no retort.
As Cheonhwi said, the Eighteen Arhats Formation was designed to counter both Buddhist and demonic arts, unleashing greater might against evil techniques.
"In my eyes, those three are problematic too."
Cheonhwi eyed the same clumsy trio as before and raised his sword high.
"But the biggest issue is you."
As he pointed his sword tip at Won-ho, the accused bit his lower lip hard.
Drip.
Blood trickled down his lip.
"Grit! Me, the problem?!"
"The one directing the linked formation should spot and correct flaws before anyone else. Yet you didn't even notice there were flaws—what does that make you?"
Cheonhwi lambasted him sharply.
"Alone, maybe excusable. But leading subordinates? Failing to grasp the group's weaknesses is the gravest sin of all. Didn't you know that?"
His face flushed red as a ripe apple, the prayer beads on his head glaringly prominent.
His kasaya billowed wildly.
"You little...!"
His eyes glaring at Cheonhwi burst a vessel.
His pupils turned bloodshot. As murderous intent began to rise from him.
"What do you think you're doing?!"
A thunderous roar struck him directly.
"Gah!"
Won-ho clutched his chest with his right hand and vomited dark blood.
And thanks to that, perhaps.
A senior monk appeared before the now somewhat relieved Won-ho.
Dressed in patched yellow robes and a red kasaya, he scanned the surroundings.
"...".
All held their breath.
This unassuming elder was Shaolin's abbot, Won-gyeon.
Won-gyeon looked at Won-ho and spoke in a low voice.
"What was that killing intent?"
Won-ho met his gaze with shaking eyes, then bowed his head deeply.
He knew his sin.
"I knew your temperament was hasty, but I never imagined you'd go this far within the temple grounds."
Won-gyeon said coldly.
"The Disciplinary Hall will handle your punishment separately for this."
"But that insolent fool started it...!"
Won-ho paled at "Disciplinary Hall" and tried to protest, but Won-gyeon's eyebrows shot up.
"Still haven't come to your senses!"
Won-ho flinched at the rebuke.
Won-gyeon gazed at him steadily, then murmured lowly.
"Spend a year in secluded meditation to reflect on your errors."
"...!"
Won-ho's eyes widened in shock at the unexpected verdict.
Not just him.
The Eighteen Arhats, who had been holding their breath, panicked and spoke up hastily.
"Abbot!"
"That's too harsh!"
They desperately tried to dissuade him.
And rightly so—Won-ho was the Arhat Hall Leader.
Sideline such a key figure for a year? It would be problematic even for Shaolin.
"Silence!"
Won-gyeon roared again, silencing them, then continued.
"Do you not know what you've done? Deploying the Eighteen Arhats Formation against someone neither unorthodox nor demonic, and even unleashing killing intent. How could we let that slide?"
As Won-gyeon's words continued, Won-ho and the monks bowed their heads lower.
It was irrefutably just.
"You're no different."
Won-gyeon's gaze swept the surroundings.
"Such an incident occurs, yet not one of you tried to stop it—you just watched."
The Shaolin monks shrank back.
Won-eum was no exception.
"How can you call yourselves Shaolin...?"
As Won-gyeon prepared another reprimand at the crestfallen monks.
"Is that such a grave sin?"
All eyes turned to the sudden, puzzled voice.
At the training ground's center, Cheonhwi—sword slung over his shoulder—looked at Won-gyeon.
"Senior Brother?"
"What mischief now...?"
Unlike the surprised Dam-mokrin, who never expected Cheonhwi to interject, Cheon-i-gae grinned with anticipation, finding the situation entertaining.
Meanwhile, Won-eum and the Shaolin monks stared blankly at Cheonhwi.
"Benefactor?"
"Why all of a sudden...?"
Cheonhwi stroked his chin and spoke.
"Is deploying the Eighteen Arhats Formation worth such reprimand? And aren't warriors allowed to emit killing intent?"
Won-gyeon regarded him and replied.
"You seem unfamiliar with Buddhist precepts, benefactor. We have the Ten Precepts that must be upheld. One is the precept against killing—no wanton slaying. Thus, we restrain our killing intent."
"That's odd."
Cheonhwi spoke with genuine curiosity.
Mount Hua, as a Daoist sect, forbade killing but tolerated it in the jianghu as a martial faction.
Yet Shaolin controlled even killing intent, not just killing.
"Hasn't Shaolin already slain countless demonic fiends?"
"Those are different. They were truly demonic hordes."
Won-gyeon narrowed his eyes.
"Letting them live would harm the common folk. We nipped it in the bud to prevent greater damage."
"So, it's fine to break the killing precept against demonic hordes?"
Won-gyeon nodded gently at Cheonhwi's seeming understanding.
"Indeed."
Cheonhwi smirked.
"What nonsense."
The monks, watching the exchange, bristled at the blatant mockery.
"How dare you speak such drivel!"
"That brat!"
But unlike them, Won-gyeon calmly faced Cheonhwi.
"What of it?"
"Demonic horde or not, killing is killing."
Cheonhwi said indifferently.
"If you're going to keep making excuses, why not leave the jianghu to other sects and become a proper temple?"
"Are you denying Shaolin's history?"
Won-gyeon's voice lowered.
"You're the ones denying history."
Cheonhwi half-lidded his eyes.
"Shaolin has the deepest history in the jianghu. You train martial arts for real combat, yet forbid killing intent unless against demonic hordes? What nonsense is that? How can you fight properly in real battles?"
Cheonhwi concluded, then added as if struck by a thought.
"Don't tell me you haven't properly deployed the Eighteen Arhats Formation until now because there were no rampaging demonic hordes?"
Seeing Won-ho and the Arhats fall silent, Cheonhwi clicked his tongue.
"No wonder the obvious flaws in the Eighteen Arhats Formation escaped you—it was flawed from the start. Without ever properly using or facing it, how would you know?"
Cheonhwi muttered to himself, sheathed his shoulder-slung sword, and wore a look of disappointment.
"I thought Shaolin was the jianghu's greatest sect, but it turns out you're just frogs in a well."
"Enough of your insolence!"
As the Eighteen Arhats, unable to endure longer, surged with fury to attack.
"Well said, benefactor."
Won-gyeon smiled softly.
"Yet Shaolin has upheld the Ten Precepts since ancient times, carrying our history thus. How could we change it? However."
Won-gyeon turned to Won-ho.
"I'll retract the secluded meditation."
"Really?!"
Won-ho and the Arhats gaped at him, and Won-gyeon continued.
"Express your gratitude to the young Daoist."
"Pardon?"
Cheonhwi blinked in confusion at the out-of-left-field remark.
"Ho ho, no need to be modest."
Won-gyeon smiled more warmly.
"You said those things to keep your juniors and the Arhats from punishment, didn't you?"
Cheonhwi was baffled.
What was this nonsense?
He'd only spoken up because Shaolin's overreaction to mere killing intent from such a grand sect was ridiculous.
Yet this interpretation?
Meanwhile, mistaking Cheonhwi's reaction for bashfulness, Won-gyeon chuckled softly.
"Ho ho, Mount Hua harbored a hidden dragon."
"Tch, you caught on quick."
"How could I not? Those exquisite plum blossoms could only bloom from Mount Hua."
"Well, yeah."
Cheonhwi nodded.
Who else could produce such blossoms?
Won-gyeon, watching the confident Cheonhwi, smiled with crinkled eyes.
His well-groomed white beard lifted slowly, and a low voice emerged.
"What is your Daoist name, young one?"
"Cheonhwi."
At the answer, Won-gyeon laughed heartily.
"Ho ho ho, I see. So you're the Plum Blossom Divine Hero who saved Shaanxi."
"Plum—Plum Blossom Divine Hero?!"
"That young Daoist?!"
The Shaolin monks gasped in shock.
The Plum Blossom Divine Hero—a title shaking the current jianghu!
Then Won-gyeon said quietly,
"Will you come with me a moment?"
"Why?"
Even at Cheonhwi's nonchalant reply, Won-gyeon looked even more pleased.
"I'd like a brief talk."