Song Mountain and the Ink Society (3)
"I am Mu-won."
"Baek Su-gyeong."
He was young. Early twenties, perhaps. His shaved head gleamed like polished marble, and the vivid red precept mark on his forehead proclaimed him a disciple who had received the commandments. The scarcity of those marks meant his standing within Shaolin was still low.
The young monk's face was full of awkwardness.
"I never imagined Elder Seonsa would speak of me in such high terms."
A future Great Buddha, no less. Baek Su-gyeong eyed Mu-won. Did he truly hold you in such regard?
"Baekmi Seonsa's disciple. But in truth, you're a direct disciple of the Abbot... a nominal one?"
A nominal disciple was one whose name was merely entered on the rolls. There had to be meaning behind Baekmi Seonsa taking Mu-won as a nominal disciple.
Mu-won nodded awkwardly at Baek Su-gyeong's words.
"A dual identity, then."
"I'm sick of seeing our own fight and bicker. Yet they demand I shoulder Shaolin's burdens. What meaning is there in being master of Saja Seonbang when they scorn even my teacher?"
Baek Su-gyeong regarded him steadily.
"Then why not step up yourself, Great Monk Mu-won?"
"Me?"
"Starting from Saja Seonbang, you could unite the Guardian Monks. As Baekmi Seonsa's successor, gaining the esteem of the Law Lineage would be straightforward."
"You want me to unite the Guardians...?"
Mu-won didn't rebel outright. One always heard words to the end. He'd been stubborn before Baekmi Seonsa, but deep down, he knew better. The problem was finding the way forward. His teacher, Baekmi Seonsa, had never given a straight answer, only koan-like riddles.
Baek Su-gyeong spoke.
"You said you're weary of the infighting. Then your task is simple, Great Monk Mu-won."
"Simple...?"
"Only you hold a status that can bridge both the Law Realm and the Guardians."
"Ah...!"
Mu-won looked as if he'd been struck on the head with a hammer.
A Guardian Monk who trained in martial arts, yet with a scholarly monk like Baekmi Seonsa as his master. Martial monks and scholarly monks—the two opposing factions, and he belonged to both. That was Mu-won.
"If you're tired of the Guardians and Law Realm clashing, then unite them. That's your duty."
"Can I even do it?"
"When asked if you were a peerless talent, the Abbot answered."
Baek Su-gyeong smiled.
"That Great Monk Mu-won would become a Great Buddha. It's not too late. Besides, with the Ink Society—known externally as the Mingwang Society—at odds with Shaolin, you as the focal point could rally the temple."
"Amitabha...."
A Buddhist invocation he hadn't uttered in years. Mu-won pressed his palms together and bowed his head.
Baek Su-gyeong looked at him and said,
"Don't run from reality, Great Monk. That's all I have to say."
It was a single phrase that shattered the anguish that had tormented Mu-won for so long.
After meeting Mu-won, Baek Su-gyeong returned to the Guest Reception Hall.
Shaolin's internal affairs were no longer his concern. Nor should they be. What good could come from an ordinary scholar meddling deeply in murim matters?
So he thought.
But Namgung So-min's words shattered that notion.
"O-gong Seonsa?"
"Yes. He wishes to receive a lesson from you..."
"Lady Namgung, isn't there some misunderstanding?"
It was absurd. What lesson could a man without proper martial training offer? To a monk, no less, and a layman at that? Did this even make sense?
As Baek Su-gyeong's face paled in half-panic, O-gong Seonsa's voice rang in his ears.
"Amitabha. Don't scold Lady Namgung too harshly, Teacher Su-gyeong."
"O-oh, O-gong Seonsa."
A towering monk with a majestic frame entered the hall, offering a half-palm salute—a Shaolin custom unique to them, originating from the Second Patriarch Huike severing his arm to attain the Dao. Baek Su-gyeong returned it with palms pressed together.
"Baek Su-gyeong."
"I am O-gong. Forgive my unannounced visit, but might you grace this monk with a lesson?"
"I know no martial arts..."
"Hmm. Beop-sang said you're a peerless master who embeds profound principles in writing."
Where did this misunderstanding even start? Baek Su-gyeong's face turned ashen.
"Me?"
"Who else could distill Wudang's martial essence into such simple words? Wudang techniques, transmitted through countless texts over ages—yet you summed their pinnacle in 'yielding overcomes strength.'"
O-gong Seonsa meant it as praise.
To Baek Su-gyeong, it was pure mortification. Phrases like "yielding overcomes strength" were crafted to highlight Wudang's distinctiveness from sects like Huashan, Qingcheng, or Kongtong—words fitting for a sect pursuing Taiji and Wuji.
O-gong Seonsa, oblivious to Baek Su-gyeong's inner turmoil, continued his praise.
"No one in Wudang's Daoist tradition could clarify Taiji, Wuji, and the principles between so lucidly. Yielding is the foundation of Wudang martial arts."
"Ha, haha..."
"Calling weapons extensions of the body is easy, but distilling martial principles so succinctly? Not simple at all. That's why I seek your guidance."
Compressing martial profundities into a single line was no easy feat. If it were, the world would teem with transcendent masters beyond peak experts. But it wasn't, so the number of true masters remained constant.
Baek Su-gyeong had done what no one else could: novel ideas, ruthless compression.
I'm screwed...
His forced smile looked awkward.
O-gong Seonsa chuckled heartily.
"Seeing no aura from you, Teacher, it seems you've far surpassed this monk's realm—returned to innocence, perhaps."
"Ha, haha..."
Baek Su-gyeong broke into a cold sweat. Return to True Nature—the realm where ultimate martial prowess appeared utterly ordinary. It wasn't a delusion; the thought flashed unbidden.
It's not like that, Seonsa. Really, it's not.
"Might you spare time for this humble request...?"
"Uncle O-gong, are you here?!"
Before Baek Su-gyeong could reply, an urgent voice cut in. O-gong Seonsa narrowed his eyes at the middle-aged man who'd flung open the door.
"Little Neung, what's the matter?"
"It's Beop-neung, Uncle!"
He corrected his dharma name, but O-gong Seonsa seemed uninterested. Turning from Baek Su-gyeong, he asked,
"What is it? Running to the Guest Hall like this."
"The Ink Society sent someone."
"What?!"
O-gong Seonsa's eyes sharpened instantly. His simple, honest face—ill-matching his massive build—twisted as if beholding a demon.
The Ink Society. The Mingwang Society rogues who'd stormed out of Shaolin on their own. Why return now?
"Who came?"
"Baek-ri-sa, that bastard."
"Tongcheon Jae-gyo? That one?"
A nickname flaunting arrogance: "Heaven-Piercing Talent, Unrivaled."
Namgung So-min whispered to Baek Su-gyeong,
"He commands the Mingwang Society's forces..."
"Why of all people."
Baek Su-gyeong realized things were going disastrously awry. He'd thought resolving Mu-won's issue would let him leave.
O-gong Seonsa's gaze axed into Beop-neung.
"Why'd that worm slither to our mountain gate? If he has business, settle it in the jianghu—with fists!"
Thick hostility laced O-gong Seonsa's voice. "Settle with fists in the jianghu"? Not words from a Buddhist warrior.
Baek Su-gyeong sensed the rift between Mingwang Society and Shaolin ran deeper than imagined.
"U-Uncle, please, hear him out..."
"Ahem. So, what'd the bastard say?"
Beop-neung told O-gong Seonsa,
"He... wants to see Teacher Su-gyeong."
"What?"
"Pardon?"
Baek Su-gyeong gaped at Beop-neung in disbelief.
"He wants to see me? That's what Baek-ri-sa said?"
"...Yes."
Two mallet blows to the head couldn't dizzy him more. Clutching his forehead, a hollow laugh escaped Baek Su-gyeong.
Just my luck. Can't even head home without every mess piling up.
This is gonna drive me insane.
He gritted his teeth and stood.
"I'll meet him."
"Teacher Su-gyeong...?"
O-gong Seonsa, Beop-neung, and Namgung So-min flinched. Baek Su-gyeong's expression blazed as if facing a mortal foe.
"Let's go."
"A-alright."
Overwhelmed by the aura from a mere scholar? Namgung So-min recalled O-gong Seonsa's words.
A peerless master embedding martial truths in prose... Is Teacher truly?
The gap between his Murim Alliance display and this aura was vast, but O-gong Seonsa's assertion left no room for doubt. Swayed unwittingly, Namgung So-min fell into the misunderstanding.
She followed Baek Su-gyeong out of the hall.
Even if so...
Her duty remained unchanged.
Layer upon layer of misconception piled up.
Less was known about Baek Su-gyeong than expected. He lived in Wuan, wrote a novel about Wudang, worked at an escort bureau in Luoyang before that. Even the Luoyang Yongmun Escort Bureau detail cost Haomen a premium.
Why did this scholar have so many secrets? The Mingwang Society had sunk hundreds of gold nyang into intel, plus extra for Haomen informants.
Baek-ri-sa was truly curious what Baek Su-gyeong was.
Impossible to read. Even sending an informant trained by Haomen Lord himself.
Ya-noe, Haomen Lord. Known to rule the jianghu's shadows alongside Ya-hwang Am-hyang Hyeol-heun of Am-musa.
Such interest in a mere scholar was bizarre. The tale of an Am-musa assassin infiltrating Murim Alliance to kidnap him—and failing—was infamous. Even unorthodox sects watched him. No ordinary man.
Can't be just some scribbler.
A scholar in white robes descended the mountain gate, gliding like a bird. Face matching the intel portrait. Trailed by Shaolin Guardians exuding menace, Beop-neung, and O-gong Seonsa—like a divine general with arhats in tow.
"Tongcheon Jae-gyo, you scum!"
O-gong Seonsa bellowed first upon reaching the gate.
"What more to steal, skulking at our gate again? Not enough from the last decade?!"
"Haha, O-gong Seonsa. Water under the bridge, no?"
Baek-ri-sa grinned slyly; O-gong flushed crimson, composure shattered, staff poised to hurl.
Beop-neung restrained him.
"U-Uncle! You promised not to!"
"Let go! Little Neung! Stay calm with that slippery eel here?!"
"Uncle, please!!"
As they tussled, Baek Su-gyeong stepped forward; Namgung So-min shadowed him instinctively, Jin-myeong at her side.
Flanked by them, Baek Su-gyeong looked down at Baek-ri-sa.
"I heard you came to see me."
"You're Teacher Su-gyeong?"
A burly man in black spoke first. Baek Su-gyeong chuckled at the gruffness.
"Poor manners for someone seeking an audience. Is that why you're a precept-breaker?"
Baek-ri-sa interjected defensively,
"Haha, you know of us. Regrettably, he's not with the Society."
"Then so be it. You're Baek-ri-sa?"
"Tongcheon Jae-gyo Baek-ri-sa, commander of Mingwang Society forces, at your service."
"Baek Su-gyeong."
Their gazes locked. Namgung So-min and Jin-myeong tensed, hands on sword hilts.
Baek Su-gyeong eyed Baek-ri-sa.
"State your business."
"Mediate between our Society and Shaolin. You, Teacher Su-gyeong."
What nonsense is this?
Baek Su-gyeong's face twisted as if stung by a scorpion.