196. Shaolin (2)
“You're one hell of a mad bastard, layman.”
“A monk swearing? Well, you steal too, so I guess nothing's off-limits.”
“...I have no strength left to even respond.”
Gongjin was pale as a sheet.
It was because Pa Cheon had sucked his inner energy bone-dry.
'Yeah, figured as much.'
'You're joking, right?'
'Unbelievable.'
The Red Dragon bone I'd absorbed this time was the largest yet. When Hyeok Mun had attacked us earlier, I'd released it right away as natural qi, so it hadn't been stored.
Even so, purifying that much with Pa Cheon's energy would have been impossible with just Gongjin's qi. Thank goodness upgrading the Pa Cheon Sword had boosted the efficiency—otherwise, it would've been a pipe dream.
“Just three more times from here on out.”
“Absolutely, absolutely not.”
Gongjin shook his head vigorously.
“Do you know what it feels like to have your inner energy sucked out? It's like Buddha's grace, that sense of fullness, vanishing in real time. No way. Absolutely not.”
“The Divine Preceptor once said, 'Buddha resides within you.'”
“That's exactly why it'd kill me! I can't. No!”
This wouldn't do. If Gongjin kept stonewalling us, we had no leverage. Hell, if he decided to bolt, we couldn't even catch him.
'Gongjin’s already been convinced by Cheon Gi-ja.'
Time to play that angle.
“Hey, Gongjin.”
“What?”
“This is all to prevent worldly chaos. I teased you about stealing, but isn't that why you're collecting those items despite the scorn— to stop the chaos?”
“W-Well, yes?”
“Absorbing others' energy or pilfering their treasures—both invite finger-pointing. But we're both acting for the greater good, aren't we?”
“That's...”
“To avert worldly chaos, we need your strength, monk. You know that better than anyone.”
“Urgh.”
Gongjin finally nodded.
“If it's to prevent chaos in the world...”
“Wise choice, monk.”
'He's a monk clueless about the world. Easier than dealing with the juniors, even.'
With Gongjin's energy absorbed too, next up was Gong-a.
“What does Gong-a usually do?”
“Outside his duties at the Precepts Hall, he trains nonstop. Like he's doing penance or something—obsessively intense.”
“Penance, huh.”
“Word is, he suffered greatly from worldly affairs.”
Made sense.
His one and only blood kin.
The family duty he had to uphold.
Gong-a chose duty over kin, failed to protect her, and now drowned in guilt, regret, and profound sorrow.
'He doesn't even know Sa Wol's alive.'
Gong-a probably had no grand plan. He just fled to somewhere Sado Gwang could never find him, ending up at Shaolin.
Once tonsured in a Buddhist sect, worldly ties were severed—let alone events from the Divine Cult.
'The real issue is Sa Wol.'
Who knew how she'd react upon finding her lost brother? She seemed set on sticking with us for now, but people change.
Couldn't just gloss over it after coming this far.
If Sa Wol later asked, “Where's my brother?” and I said Shaolin?
All the goodwill I'd built would evaporate. Worse, trust would shatter.
No more blind faith—instead, suspicion and questions that could doom my survival.
In the end...
'Strike first.'
Better to throw the first punch—timeless truth, world over.
I turned to Gongjin.
“By any chance...”
Sa Wol sat alone in her room, quietly sipping tea.
'Bitter. Why do people even drink this?'
She'd never been one for tea. Trained relentlessly for missions, she'd never had time to brew it leisurely—hydration was all that mattered.
'But that woman...'
Sa Wol recalled Jin So-cheong.
She'd tried tea because of her.
Graceful, refined beauty. Pouring and sipping with elegant poise.
And those hands?
Unlike Sa Wol's callused, rough killers' hands, Jin's were pale, slender, soft—like exquisite jade fingers coined for her.
'Is that why they're together?'
He denied it. No relation, nothing like that.
But they stuck together too often for that.
'And that woman's gaze...'
Honestly, Sa Wol couldn't read her liege's eyes.
Mostly impassive, hard to meet straight-on.
But Jin's were different. Beneath the elegance, a sticky, desire-filled stare.
Disgustingly hidden in the liege's presence.
'Should I say something?'
Yet hesitation gripped her.
Fear her loyalty might be misunderstood.
Lest he see it as a woman's jealousy—
'What am I thinking?'
Sa Wol startled herself.
They were liege and vassal. She'd come on mission, nothing more.
'Just follow loyally. His fiancée is set anyway.'
The Sovereign and the liege.
Like heaven-ordained, perfectly matched.
Sa Wol thought.
'Right. I just can't stand her presuming to approach the Sovereign's fiancée.'
That was all.
Then—
Sensing presence, Sa Wol rose.
“Sa Wol. May I enter?”
“Yes, my liege.”
Sado Hwan opened the door and stepped in.
The very man she'd been pondering—Sa Wol felt oddly flustered.
Her liege, Sado Hwan, wore his usual impassive, dignified expression.
“Drinking tea?”
“Yes, young master.”
“Got a moment?”
“What kind of moment?”
“Moon's bright. Care for a stroll?”
Sa Wol's eyes widened. She nodded.
“I'll follow.”
Her ears burned strangely.
Sado Hwan led; Sa Wol trailed.
Jami Hall was a detached annex—few Shaolin monks about, sparse foot traffic.
But the garden was modestly, beautifully tended.
There, Sado Hwan halted.
He gazed silently at the moon for a long stretch, as if hesitating to speak.
'Some worry weighing on him?'
Her liege never faltered.
Yet here...
A voice echoed in Sa Wol's mind.
'Men grow weak before the women they harbor feelings for.'
Tak Horak's voice.
Couldn't even climb Shaolin with his demonic qi, yet it lingered vividly.
'Ridiculous thoughts again.'
Why recall that fool's words now?
Tak Horak, of all people!
Then—
“Sa Wol.”
Sado Hwan spoke. Sa Wol bowed her head, unable to meet his eyes.
“Your brother—Hwarang.”
“Pardon? ...Yes.”
Caught off-guard, Sa Wol blanked briefly before responding.
“He said if asked, he'd reveal Hwarang's whereabouts. Remember?”
“I do.”
“Then, may I ask why you haven't sought him?”
At her liege's words, Sa Wol felt—
ashamed.
'He's looking out for me like this, and I've harbored irreverent thoughts.'
Sa Wol answered.
“To repay your grace.”
“Grace.”
Sado Hwan met her eyes squarely.
“I'm of the Sado bloodline you despise so much—the family head, no less. Has that hatred faded?”
“It's not your fault, my liege.”
Sa Wol spoke from the heart.
“You saved my life, made me a master, gave me chances. Isn't repaying that what any person should do?”
She'd been blinded by vengeance, deluding herself with aimless waiting.
He'd given her real opportunity for revenge.
And Sado Hwan was remaking the entire Sado family.
The objects of her hatred burned away by his hand.
“I see. Is that all?”
But his follow-up stirred something in Sa Wol—an urge to speak.
She didn't know what.
Just that words welled from chest to throat.
'No, Sa Wol.'
She swallowed them. Whatever it was, she'd regret it—instinct screamed.
So Sa Wol said,
“...Yes. That's all.”
“I see.”
“Actually—.”
“To you—.”
Their words overlapped.
“Speak—.”
“You first—.”
Overlapped again.
“You first.”
Sado Hwan nodded at Sa Wol's words.
“I have something to tell you.”
“Please, speak.”
Tak Horak's voice echoed annoyingly; Sa Wol pushed it away to reply.
“Your brother is here at Shaolin.”
“...Pardon?”
“Your brother. Heir to Gwangmyeongseongga, master of Seonghwa—Hwarang.”
“That's...”
“Isn't it, Gong-a?”
Sado Hwan turned. Sa Wol followed his gaze—and spotted a monk.
'When did he...?'
He'd approached so silently even her Super Peak senses missed it.
Orange robes like any Shaolin monk.
“Hwarang... brother?”
Shaved head, robes or not—impossible to forget.
That face from her dreams.
“Who is this layman...”
Gong-a started to ask, then froze, staring piercingly.
“Hwa... Hwayeon?”
“Brother!”
Sa Wol.
No—Seong Hwa-yeon flung herself into Hwarang's arms.