Monkey Wine and the Drunken Buddha
The genius born of Shaolin, an unparalleled eccentric named Gabul. He had a most unique background.
Despite hailing from Shaolin, brimming with peerless inner cultivation methods, he walked only the path of external arts.
There was a reason for that.
Gabul was a lay disciple of Shaolin. Not being a formal disciple, he couldn't learn their supreme techniques, so he devoted himself to external arts instead. Of course, that was just the in-novel justification...
In reality, my maternal uncle had chosen it for a simple reason.
-A Shaolin master who pushes external arts to the limit, achieving the indestructible diamond body! How cool is that!
My maternal uncle had peculiar tastes. He had zero interest in sword prodigies or the Huashan Sect that most readers adored. Instead, he favored unique setups, and Gabul—the external arts specialist—was the result. There's always a reason why a book doesn't sell.
"Huff... huff!"
I was climbing the wild mountain near Cheonmu Academy to learn external arts from that very Gabul.
Why the sudden mountain climb? Gabul loved external arts as much as something else.
Alcohol.
He loved booze so much he even had the nickname Drunken Buddha.
That, too, was my uncle's taste.
-A drunken external arts master! Kyahaha~ So cool. Should I add Drunken Fist too?
With his much younger nephew right there, it was no wonder the novel didn't sell well.
Anyway, if he loved alcohol, shouldn't I hit up an inn? No, the reason for the mountain was different.
Ukikiki! To get monkey wine, Okgongju.
Okgongju was made when monkeys ate wild grapes and accidentally fermented them—a brew born of pure chance. Rare as hell, known only to those in the know.
The Drunken Buddha—no, Gabul—is a sucker for booze.
What would he do if I offered him a rare drink he'd never tasted, brewed by monkeys themselves? He'd drool rivers, teach me an external art technique, and beg for the Okgongju. No matter how eccentric, he wouldn't steal from a servant. This was the perfect plan.
"And this area's crawling with monkeys for generations."
Having set the world's details with my lore-obsessed uncle, I knew it all. The mountain was even called Sungseongsan, meaning Ape Mountain. As a kid, I'd been obsessed with monkeys at the zoo, so finding their brew was priority one.
We'd created Sungseongsan together, so I knew the exact spot. A regular person couldn't even approach the monkey woods.
There it is!
I found the forest thick with wild grapes, and sure enough, clever monkeys had brewed some booze. Had to be Okgongju. Hidden like a game's secret reward, perfectly preserved.
"Just one bottle, guys."
I slipped past the swarming monkeys toward the Okgongju, but uh-oh.
Keekeeek!
The already ill-tempered beasts charged me.
"Even monkeys gotta hit me? Fine, let's go all the way!"
Normally, I'd be too scared to come near, but my fate hung on that Okgongju.
I need it no matter what!
Beyond just saving my legs, building a strong skeletal foundation with external arts was ideal for learning advanced techniques later. No better option than learning from Gabul.
Thwack, pow!
Monkeys mobbed me, punching, clawing, even spitting. Miserable didn't cover it.
"Ow ow! It hurts! H-here, candy! Take the candy!"
I wasn't getting it bare-handed. I scattered prepped sweets, dispersing them.
Even then, after losing chunks of hair, I barely snagged two bottles of Okgongju.
"Got it!"
I tucked them away like holy nectar and hurried down. Monkeys were off my list for a while.
* * *
The booze-loving Gabul would sit under the locust tree after academy duties, drinking away.
Save for the head and vice heads, no one could touch him—he was that elite in skill and status, enjoying relative freedom.
Today, too, he lounged with his thick earlobes and shiny bald head, drunk as could be.
"Hello, sir?"
I seized the empty moment to boldly approach.
"An academy servant, eh? What brings you?"
I knew Gabul well. Not from personal ties, but because I'd shaped him in the novel with my uncle the creator—his personality, backstory, all of it.
Gabul's said to be unapproachable, but he doesn't care about status.
Having endured discrimination as a lowly lay disciple, he was surprisingly magnanimous. Despite his wild vibe, he was kind to servants and farmers.
"I hear you love alcohol a lot."
"Hahaha!"
Gabul burst out laughing, clutching his belly at my words.
"So you come all this way just to nag a monk about liking booze?"
As expected, no easy personality. To onlookers, a servant ribbing an academy advisor about drinking could seem rude.
Quick damage control needed.
"Do you know the king of alcohols?"
I pivoted fast. True drinkers never tire of booze talk—my uncle said so.
"Sichuan's Jiannanchun? Nah, the Maotai from the distant borders is supposed to be exquisite."
Timing's everything in baiting. I tossed the lure.
"Those are man-made—you can get 'em anytime."
"Then?"
"Only chance-brewed mountain nectar is supreme. Like Okgongju."
"Okgongju? That stuff monkeys accidentally ferment from wild grapes?!"
Gabul bit hard, smacking his lips. Just imagining it had him salivating uncontrollably.
No wonder—Okgongju spots were secret, and a Shaolin monk couldn't brawl monkeys for dignity's sake.
"Don't you want a taste?"
"Of course! But it's like plucking stars."
Before he finished, I whipped out a bottle and uncorked it.
Better than fancy words—let the aroma do the work for a drinker.
Sniff sniff!
True to Drunken Buddha, he sniffed like a hound dog. Hilarious.
"This scent! This unique aroma! It has to be Okgongju!"
Master of booze like external arts, he knew it by smell alone.
"Why would I lie to you, of all people?"
Mood perfect, I poured him a cup myself.
Drinkers go mad at the whiff. Success was over the last hill.
"Buddha must've guided us here, right? A toast."
"Well said!"
Pouring sealed it—he was thrilled beyond words.
Glug glug glug!
Like heavenly nectar, he slurped every drop.
"Kyah~ This tangy uniqueness! No mortal hand could brew such fragrance!"
He sprang up, ready to recite poetry on the spot.
"A true booze connoisseur. One cup enough?"
"Heh heh! You know the Way of Wine, layman."
Gabul and I were no longer strangers. Gifting booze makes best buds, right?
He plunked me beside him, downing more nonstop. Didn't even offer me a sip—sign he loved it.
"One more bottle here."
He polished it off quick; I marveled inwardly, pulling the last.
Now, how to ask...?
"Bringing Okgongju like this means you want something. Spill it."
His drunken eyes pierced me sharp as ever.
Then I truly grasped Gabul's prowess. No mere drunk—he was peak master, deep-minded. Even wasted, he stayed on point, keen.
No fooling this guy with cheap tricks.
I laid it all out.
"Servants bully and shun me. To protect myself, I want to learn your external arts, Master Gabul."
"Skip the flattery. Anyway... why external? Plenty of other instructors and inner arts experts."
"The bullies plan to beat me during academy break. With vacation soon, instructors and masters will leave—no week left. For quick results, external over inner arts."
"Hmm!"
Solid logic. Inner arts need years from childhood; external can work short-term sometimes. Even diamond body or ironcloth take time, but basics? With protagonist luck, doable.
"External's as vital as inner—harmony of both is key to true mastery."
Music to this external purist's ears.
"Clever flatterer."
Gabul grinned wide, then nodded.
"Can't just wipe my mouth and run after Okgongju. Fine. I'll teach quick-effect external arts. But!"
He snatched the last bottle.
"Can you bring more Okgongju now and then?"
Monkey hair-pulling flashed; I hesitated, then agreed readily.
"Of course!"
I clenched my fist in joy.
Yes! Dodged the leg-crippling worst-case.
Training under the world's top external master? Servant bullies were nothing. Hell, I might counter-revenge.
"Let me see."
Decision made, his hands octopus-waved over my body.
Swoosh, swoosh!
That fluidity startled me—
"Amitabha! With bones like these, how do you let servants pummel you?"
Protagonist perks kicked in right away, it seemed.