Chapter 226
Chapter 226
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 226
Chapter Title: Farewell to Shaolin
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"The food tastes even better today."
Cheonhwi tilted his liquor cup.
Was it because they were eating in Shaolin, where meat and alcohol were forbidden?
It seemed tastier than usual.
"I didn't expect you to join us, Junior Sister. Don't you hate doing this sort of thing?"
Cheonhwi looked at Dan Mok-rin with surprise.
She had been devouring the five-spiced cured meat with chopsticks faster than anyone, but at his gaze, her cheeks flushed slightly as she replied.
"The evening ritual meal wasn't enough."
"Hm, it was a small portion."
Cheonhwi nodded.
The tasteless grass was one thing, but why was the portion so pathetically small?
It hadn't even reached his stomach properly.
"I've heard Shaolin is frugal, but I didn't think they'd eat so little. How do they even train properly?"
Cheonhwi said, chewing his meat, as if he couldn't comprehend it.
"How about you? Don't you feel hungry during training?"
Cheonhwi turned his gaze to the man on the couch, but no answer came.
"What the hell have I done..."
Wonho sat on the couch, clutching his head with both hands, seemingly oblivious to Cheonhwi's question.
Was it because he had broken the precepts?
Wonho, emanating a gloomy aura from head to toe, had accidentally eaten a piece of five-spiced cured meat and had been muttering to himself ever since.
"Tch, he's still out of it."
It wasn't a good sight, seeing a sturdy middle-aged monk like that.
Dan Mok-rin felt it too and spoke up.
"Senior Brother. He's still a Shaolin monk, so forcing him to eat meat..."
"You want to let him go blabbing about us eating meat here?"
Dan Mok-rin immediately shut her mouth.
What they were doing was a grave blasphemy among blasphemies.
They were eating five-spiced cured meat and downing liquor right in the Shaolin temple grounds.
"Besides, that's his own fault."
"Pardon?"
At her puzzled question, Cheonhwi smirked and said.
"He could have spat it out easily when I shoved the meat in his mouth. But he chewed it up and swallowed."
Wonho flinched at the words.
It was true.
He could have just spat it out, but the incredible melting taste in his mouth had gotten the better of him...
'Ah, I have committed a grave sin.'
As he squeezed his eyes shut, Cheon Igae, who had been silently drinking, spoke up.
"Aw, come on. Is that really worth making such a deathly face? Everyone makes mistakes sometimes."
Cheon Igae looked at Wonho, who had been wallowing in despair for a while, with pitying eyes as he stood up.
His nose was red from being thoroughly drunk already. He picked up a teacup and plopped down next to Wonho.
"Just take this mistake as a lesson and don't repeat it next time, right?"
At Cheon Igae's sincere advice, Wonho slowly lifted his head and looked at him.
Then Cheon Igae handed him the teacup.
"So don't be so down. Have some tea and calm yourself first."
"...Amitabha. Thank you."
Wonho felt a bit calmer at the concerned tone and expression, just as he said. But the moment he gratefully accepted the comfort and downed the teacup...
"Pfft!"
Wonho spat out the tea he had put in his mouth.
Startled by the lingering liquor scent after swallowing half, he looked at Cheon Igae and said.
"Th-this isn't grain tea?!"
Cheon Igae burst into laughter.
"Kekeke, isn't grain wine tea too?"
"No, what the... Huh?"
Wonho, about to yell in anger, suddenly felt his head spinning.
His head throbbed.
But for some reason, it felt good.
It was a sensation he'd never felt before.
At the same time, his mood suddenly surged, and laughter leaked from his mouth involuntarily.
"Ha, haha."
Seeing Wonho giggling, Cheon Igae clutched his stomach and roared with laughter.
"He's drunk. Totally drunk."
"He looks like he could chug a whole barrel of liquor without batting an eye, but he's this weak to booze."
Cheonhwi looked incredulous at Wonho, who got smashed after not even finishing one cup. His gaze naturally shifted to Dan Mok-rin.
"That's about your level, isn't it?"
Dan Mok-rin gave an awkward smile.
It reminded her of that day when one cup made her black out and lose her memory.
"What?! You're saying the Eighteen Arhats Formation collapsed because of me?!"
Wonho shot to his feet and shouted.
"Argh! Nonsense! I worked so hard to deploy the Eighteen Arhats Formation!"
As he spoke, he circulated his internal energy, and a faint golden light enveloped his body.
Cheonhwi shook his head at the sight.
"Man, he's really hammered. Who'd think he's a Shaolin monk?"
It was then, as he watched Wonho rampage with half-glassy eyes and surging energy.
Wonho let out a lion's roar.
"If we clash again, I won't let the Eighteen Arhats Formation be broken...!"
Thud!
A dull sound rang out.
"Kuhk!"
Wonho groaned, his upper body snapping back as he sprawled on the couch in a 대 shape.
A teacup fell beside him.
Cheon Igae and Dan Mok-rin's gazes turned to Cheonhwi.
Cheonhwi lightly twirled his now-empty hand and smiled faintly.
"Now it's quiet."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Ugh, uuu."
Wonho struggled to raise his upper body.
"Kuk!"
He groaned in pain.
For some reason, his head felt like it would split open.
Especially his forehead.
He touched his forehead with his hand.
A large lump met his fingertips.
"Why is there a lump...?"
As he voiced his confusion.
"Awake?"
"Eh?!"
He jolted in surprise at Cheonhwi's face suddenly appearing before him.
"Wh-why is the young hero here...?"
"Why? This is my monk quarters."
"Your monk quarters?!"
Regaining his senses, he looked around.
It wasn't his usual quarters in the Arhat Hall.
'Why am I here?'
He retraced his memory.
'I came to apologize, and then...!'
Memories before collapsing flooded his mind like a tidal wave.
His face drained of color.
"What have I done..."
Recalling that he had eaten forbidden meat and even drunk alcohol, he glared at Cheonhwi, his eyebrows trembling.
Cheonhwi's lips curved thinly.
"Looks like you remember everything. I hoped you'd black out from the drunkenness."
"..."
"So, as my accomplice, let's get along."
At the word "accomplice," Wonho froze solid.
Knock knock—
"Anyone inside?"
A familiar voice came with the knocking.
"Come in."
As soon as Cheonhwi spoke, the door opened, and Woneum entered.
"Morning ritual time... Hm? Why is Junior Brother here?"
Woneum spotted Wonho and asked with a puzzled look.
"He came last night to express his gratitude, and we talked so long he ended up staying."
"Junior Brother did?"
Woneum's eyes widened.
It was hard to believe.
Wonho was highly skilled but had become arrogant lately.
Yet he came personally to bow his head in thanks?
'Well, he talked at length with the Abbot. Must have built a strong bond overnight.'
A smile played on Woneum's lips.
Cheonhwi was in a transcendent realm beyond his comprehension.
He had dismantled the Eighteen Arhats Formation, which even the Eight Divine Martial Masters would struggle against, and pinpointed its weaknesses.
'Perhaps close to the Eight Divine Martial Masters...'
As he thought back to yesterday's Cheonhwi, he shook his head.
It was unlikely.
The Eight Divine Martial Masters were otherworldly supreme experts.
For someone Cheonhwi's age to match them was nearly impossible.
But one thing was certain.
'In a few decades—no, a few years—it will be the young hero's era.'
He could picture it without seeing.
Looking warmly at Cheonhwi and Wonho alternately, he suddenly tilted his head.
"But what's with your forehead?"
The lump was impossible to hide on Wonho's freshly shaved bald head.
"That is..."
As Wonho panicked, Cheonhwi spoke.
"I told him to just go sleep, but he insisted he was fine, dozed off while holding out, and face-planted into the desk."
"No way..."
Wonho started to refute the absurd excuse but caught Cheonhwi's sly smile—as if saying, "Want to reveal the meat and booze?"—and hurriedly changed his words.
"...That's right."
"Haha. Must have been a lot to catch up on after so long, Junior Brother."
Wonho's face flushed red with embarrassment at Woneum's amused words.
"Oh, right. Let's hurry. Morning ritual time is approaching."
The three left Cheonhwi's quarters and entered the hall for the morning ritual. All eyes turned to them.
Everyone itched to talk about Cheonhwi's appearance and Wonho's company, but they exchanged glances and barely held their tongues.
Morning rituals required silence.
The three soon sat, and the meal proceeded quietly.
As Wonho began the ritual like usual, his brow furrowed.
'Was it always this tasteless?'
It was the vegetables he gratefully ate every day.
But now, chewing felt like torture.
'Compared to that five-spiced cured meat from yesterday, this is... Hic!'
Wonho jolted involuntarily.
As those around him looked in surprise, he quickly clasped his hands in apology.
Watching the silently eating monks, Wonho squeezed his eyes shut.
'What am I thinking right now.'
It was a forbidden thought.
'Demonic influence. I've been possessed by demons.'
As he berated himself.
Smooth—
Cheonhwi and Woneum stood.
Ignoring Wonho's odd state, they left the hall and headed to the training ground for the Shaolin Thirty-Six Forms.
"Elder?"
"And the young hero too..."
The martial monk trainees preparing swallowed hard upon spotting them.
Ignoring the stares, Woneum stepped onto the highest platform and moved his lips.
"Watch closely."
With that, he clenched his fist.
The fist, covered in calluses, clearly wasn't from half-hearted fist training.
At that moment, his internal energy surged.
Flutter—
His red kasaya robe fluttered slightly.
Then, as white energy gathered on his tightly gripped right fist at his waist.
Bang!
A massive fist shadow tore through the air in an instant and shot forward.
'Faster than I thought.'
Cheonhwi's eyes moved quickly.
In a flash, the fist shadow reached the end of the Shaolin Thirty-Six Forms and slammed into a bizarre large rock by the wall.
Crack!
A large fist imprint was etched into the rock.
Perfectly clear, even from afar!
"Amitabha."
The watching martial monks clasped hands involuntarily and chanted.
"Ah, so this is the true Hundred Paces Divine Fist."
It was rare for them to see Woneum's Hundred Paces Divine Fist properly, so they gazed in admiration and envy.
Meanwhile, Cheonhwi seriously stroked his chin.
'Shaolin martial arts are impressive. That power with such modest internal energy.'
Woneum's energy wasn't vast.
Yet it leaped such a distance with that destructive force.
'Even in the Divine Cult, few fist techniques use internal energy that efficiently.'
It wasn't just the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.
It would rank in the top five among all the fist techniques he knew.
Then Woneum asked Cheonhwi.
"What do you think?"
"No wonder it's called the world's greatest fist technique."
"Haha, indeed."
At Cheonhwi's praise, Woneum looked pleased, and Cheonhwi spoke.
"If possible, could I see other Shaolin techniques?"
"Other techniques?"
"After seeing something comparable to the Hundred Paces Divine Fist, I'm curious how amazing the others are."
Cheonhwi flicked his tongue like a snake.
He had come here to see Shaolin martial arts. It would be a shame to leave after just the Eighteen Arhats Formation and Hundred Paces Divine Fist.
Woneum smiled softly.
"It'd be hard for me to demonstrate more. But watching the other martial monks train here should be fine—enjoy."
It was a polite refusal.
Supreme arts like the Hundred Paces Divine Fist weren't trained in such places.
Disappointing, but unavoidable.
Cheonhwi understood.
No sect would reveal their true ultimate techniques to outsiders.
"Tch, alright."
Nodding, Cheonhwi looked around.
'Still, it's Shaolin, so it'll be different.'
The martial monks, who had been eavesdropping subtly, stiffened at his gaze, took deep breaths, and put more power into their movements.
For one purpose only.
To show Cheonhwi how great Shaolin martial arts were.
That's Mystic Void Fist, huh. Oh, even Praying Mantis Claw. Wow, and Iron Cloth Garment Technique too?
Unlike his initial disappointment, Cheonhwi quickly became engrossed in watching.
Even Shaolin's basic techniques had depths unmatched by other sects.
'Hm, I can watch all this and then leave.'
Time flew by, and five days passed.
During those five days in Shaolin, Cheonhwi's routine was steady and simple.
Ritual meals, watching martial arts, and late dinners with food brought by Cheon Igae.
On the seventh day since arriving, after finishing the morning ritual latest as usual, Cheonhwi said to Cheon Igae.
"Time to go."
Cheon Igae's face lit up.
"I'll get ready quick!"
He had grown bored of Shaolin and dashed excitedly to his quarters.
The group, packed quickly, headed to the mountain gate, where Woneum, Gongjin, and Gongmun awaited.
Woneum approached Cheonhwi.
"Leaving already?"
"No reason to stay longer."
"I see."
Woneum said regretfully.
"Then we'll meet again later."
"Maybe, if it happens."
"Haha, no worries. As fellow Nine Great Sects in the Murim Alliance, we'll cross paths someday."
"True enough."
After brief farewells with Gongmun and Gongjin, the group passed through the gate.
Watching their departing figures, Woneum clasped his hands.
"Amitabha. He comes like the wind and leaves like the wind."
With that, he turned.
"Come out now."
At his words, Wonho, who had been plastered against the wall behind, emerged.
"How could you not even say goodbye... And what's with that state?"
Woneum looked shocked as he examined him.
He was far more haggard than five days ago.
Pitiful to behold.
"It's nothing."
Wonho shook his head.
There was something, but how could he say?
He couldn't admit he lost sleep over the five-spiced cured meat and rice wine from five days ago.
'Sigh. Torment, pure torment.'
Gazing in the direction where Cheonhwi—who brought him this torment—had vanished, the smell and vision of the five-spiced cured meat crept back, forcing him to squeeze his eyes shut.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Long time no see."
Descending the mountain gate, Ko Sam, who had the carriage waiting, greeted them.
"Been well?"
"Thanks to you, Young Hero."
Ko Sam smiled brightly and said.
"Shall we go then?"
The three boarded the carriage.
As it was about to depart.
"Huff, huff! W-wait a moment!"
A familiar voice from behind made Cheonhwi and Cheon Igae whip around.
"Jingae?"
"Why's that guy here?"
Puzzled why Jingae, who should be at Plum Blossom Guest Inn, was here.
"Huff, huff! Elder! Young Hero!"
Jingae, running raggedly, spoke urgently without catching his breath.
"I-I've been waiting for you to come out of Shaolin."
"Why?"
"What's up?"
As Cheonhwi and Cheon Igae asked with puzzled looks, Jingae swallowed hard, eyes wide, and shouted.
"The All-Heaven Merchant Group has requested your help!"