Shaolin Temple (1)
If Gong-a had beaten Gongjin until his eyes were black and blue, then it was Gongjin's own damn fault.
Even staking the honor of the Sado family on it.
[Why the hell are you staking the Sado family honor?]
'Because I'm the family head, for now.'
[You're just the shell of one.]
'Same difference.'
[I'll kill you.]
'Try it if you can.'
[Annoying bastard.]
Anyway.
Gong-a must be quite the character. Gongjin was so skilled in lightness skills that he later became the Shadowless Divine Thrower. Even at the Tang Clan event, drunk as he was, he'd managed to sneak past Paeng Yu-gun's senses and get caught only after pinching him.
[That's why bloodlines are so scary.]
'True. He's Sa-wol's brother, after all.'
According to the official author setting, Sa-wol was the only one with talent rivaling Yi Se-ryeong. If that talent was genetic, then her brother Gong-a wouldn't be ordinary either.
– Understood. Guiding Dao King first takes priority.
Gongjin nodded at my telepathic message.
I'd already played the sound of the puppet insect for him before. I made a habit of letting key connections hear it whenever the chance arose. Yeonju and the others had been puzzled by the weird noise, but they bought it when I said it was just a check-up. Gongjin was no different.
"We'll escort you to Zimi Hall."
"Not Zhike Hall?"
Zhike Hall was the usual place for receiving guests at Shaolin. Guiding him elsewhere was unusual. And sure enough.
"The Martial Alliance has visitors."
"From the Alliance?"
My back prickled at the mention of the Martial Alliance.
The Alliance was right in Shaolin's front yard, so they could drop by easily enough.
Who, though?
Meng Wixue. Or Sado Gwang.
"Who from the Alliance?"
"The Strategist has come."
The Strategist.
Simply put, the mastermind who devised strategies and tactics.
The Martial Alliance's Strategist would be Je Gal Sung, head of the Je Gal family. Father to Je Gal Hye, the All-Seeing Phenomenon.
'Of course. The Alliance Lord wouldn't come himself.'
That was a relief, at least.
As long as it wasn't Meng Wixue.
'Sado Gwang wouldn't reveal my true identity as a Divine Cult member yet—not with his personality.'
He always waited for the perfect moment to drop the bomb all at once. He hadn't even fully settled into 'Muguang's' body yet and was in secluded cultivation besides. Even the Alliance Strategist couldn't know the secret.
"Dao King benefactor. The Martial Alliance Strategist wishes to speak with you."
Paeng Yu-gun let out a dry chuckle at Gongjin's hesitant words.
"Heh. Did that Je Gal bastard send us to Zimi Hall? Did he single me out, saying 'Make sure to send that Dao King guy to Zimi Hall'?"
"How did you know?"
"I'm tight with that Je Gal punk. He's messing with me on purpose. Probably expects me to storm in fuming. Sword Dragon. What should we do?"
I wondered why he was asking me all of a sudden, but I took it as a sign of respect.
Still.
"Elder, please head to Zhike Hall. We'll go to Zimi Hall. They're probably discussing something important at the Alliance level, right?"
– Probably about the Blood Cult.
The Strategist couldn't just leave the Alliance on a whim. It was a position burdened with sorting endless murim intelligence and deciding courses of action. Even as head of the Je Gal family, he lived at the Alliance. If he'd come all the way to Shaolin, it had to be Blood Cult-related.
"Right. That sounds good. Sorry to take a good opportunity from you."
– It'll be fine. No need to go as a witness.
"What are you saying? I hate getting dragged into complicated adult talk."
– Seems like there are matters I shouldn't hear yet. Call me once it's sorted, and I'll gladly come.
"You cheeky punk."
– Using telepathy while talking, no less. Well, with your qi control, it's only natural.
I bowed my head slightly in thanks.
Speaking and sending telepathy simultaneously was like drawing with one hand while writing with the other—tricky for most. But with the puppet insect handling the telepathy and my practice chatting with Pa Cheon internally, it was no big deal for me.
Paeng Yu-gun smiled.
"Then you, Panda Eyes monk—since you seem close with Sword Dragon, go to Zimi Hall with him. Guide me to Zhike Hall."
"As you wish."
Then Paeng So-so spoke up.
"Grandpa. I'll just head down to the village."
"Huh? Why?"
"Everything's great, but... isn't there any meat dish, Monk Woongmyo?"
Gongjin tilted his head at Paeng So-so's question, as if it were the dumbest thing.
"Man needs meat to build strength. And I have to train these Cloud Leopard silks too."
I could bet my fortune it wasn't about the silks—she just wanted meat.
"True enough. Still, Shaolin isn't a place you visit anytime. Even as a Paeng, it's a rare chance."
But Paeng So-so insisted it was fine.
Suits me perfect.
With Paeng Yu-gun gone, then Paeng So-so and her silks scattered, I'd have fewer uncontrolled elements.
Dealing with Gongjin, and later Gong-a, would be much smoother.
"See you later then. So-so, go check on things below."
"Yes, Elder."
"Yup!"
We split into three groups.
Following Gongjin's lead through the Shaolin grounds—or rather, skirting the outer edges beyond the mountain gate. It truly felt like Shaolin. The atmosphere overwhelmed you.
Faint incense scents, sturdy buildings that had weathered centuries with quiet grace, and monks everywhere pressing palms together with gentle smiles.
Something about it eased the mind, for sure.
We arrived at Zimi Hall after a long walk—a secluded annex of sorts.
I dismissed everyone but Gongjin for a private talk.
He blinked wide at my subordinates obeying without question, and even Jin So-cheong and her crew listening to me—but he just shook his head, accepting it. I could guess his thoughts. Probably figured I'd strong-armed (?) him the same way.
"How've you been?"
"As you see. Good until the day before yesterday, shit since yesterday."
Up close, his eyes really did look like a raccoon's—bruised black. One eye worse than the other. A rock-solid Shaolin monk with shiners.
"How'd your eyes get like that? Gong-a do it?"
"Long story. Tried swiping something from Senior Brother Gong-a and got caught. Turns out it was something he treasured."
"Why not change your dharma name from Gongjin to 'Klepto'? Stealing from your senior brother."
"I have principles. Wouldn't touch ordinary stuff. I only go after valuables that could shake the world. And that thing screamed precious."
That piqued my interest too.
What treasure would Gong-a have?
'The Holy Fire, maybe?'
Sado Gwang's diary clearly noted Gong-a fleeing the Divine Cult with the Holy Fire.
In Murim Returner, it was only mentioned, and by Gong-a's appearance, Sa-wol was long dead—no details.
It might be a real artifact, and Gongjin could've seen it.
[You don't need the Holy Fire right now, do you?]
'True, but... what if Sado Gwang's right and it works on meridian blockages?'
[Maybe.]
'Why so lukewarm? This concerns your body.'
[It does, but don't push too hard. Things flow naturally.]
After evolving with the Reinforcement Stone, had he gained enlightenment? Or was he holding back in Shaolin, the murim's North Star? Felt passive.
'Got it. I'll be careful.'
Time for the main topic.
"Where's the treasure you gathered? You said you hid it well."
"Well..."
Gongjin hesitated awkwardly. Bad vibe.
"Well?"
"All confiscated."
"Confiscated? The treasures? By who?"
"Senior Brother Gong-a. He's from the Disciplinary Hall."
"...Ah."
Disciplinary Hall—like Shaolin's student council, enforcing rules. Caught stealing from them? Brutal payback.
"He didn't call it theft, though. Just scolded me for a monk hoarding personal wealth."
Black eyes were lenient. By Shaolin precepts, it'd be six months minimum facing a wall in repentance cave. Gongjin must be close to Gong-a. Connections rule wuxia.
"You know where the seized treasures are?"
"Who do you think I am? I—"
"A thief."
"...Thief—no, Gongjin. Ugh. Anyway, probably in the Disciplinary Hall basement vault."
"Can you steal them back?"
"Could, but then my collection methods get exposed."
"Collecting? You mean thieving."
"Call it safekeeping for dangerous items. Ahem."
Whatever. He wasn't Murim Returner's Gongjin anymore. I could let it slide—
Like hell.
He'd greedily hoarded what was promised to me, and now it was gone.
[Claim you're Ma Ui's heir and fetch some spirit herbs instead?]
'Shaolin won't buy that. "Ma Ui? Who's that?" types.'
Shaolin held unmatched prestige and legitimacy over all sects.
They'd say "unknown origin, can't hand it over." Or force Gongjin to confess theft—excommunication, not repentance. Getting expelled from Shaolin? He'd be ruined.
[We break in ourselves? Time Wheel Jade for speed, Blink Jade to skip spaces. With me, formations won't affect us.]
Storm Shaolin, basically.
'Insane.'
Exactly.
So we'd do it.
Only a true possessor pulls off mad plans.
[You're rubbing off on me, but... yeah, best option.]
Not mindless intrusion, though. Use Gongjin for planning, check the Demonless Traces Wall, meet Gong-a.
But first.
"Gongjin."
"Yeah?"
"Hold still."
I thrust Pa Cheon at him.
Battery recharge time.