I Still Don't Know (4)
The head's chamber in the Zhuge Clan manor was as bleak as could be. With the family head's mood sunk to rock bottom, it was only natural.
"So this is why you called me down from Yungzhong Mountain. To show me the clan being humiliated."
"……I'm sorry."
"I admit Wudang's martial arts surpass ours. But losing to a lay disciple? What the hell is this?"
Zhuge Gyeom's rage was entirely justified. Zhuge Yeon, the vice head of the outer court trio who had planned this Wudang exchange, had nothing to say even if she grew ten mouths.
"Even our direct lineage lost to a lay disciple. Fine, that's not your fault. But you should've at least kept that lay disciple from being invited. Isn't spotting and handling things like that the outer court's job?"
"You're right."
"What the hell were you thinking planning this?"
Zhuge Yeon bit her lip. Truth be told, singling out Muk Hwi-yeong to send had been her unilateral decision. She'd assumed Zhuge Hyeon could crush him easily and planned to send him back with a broken arm or something.
Of course, Zhuge Gyeom had no idea about these behind-the-scenes details. It was something the outer court had handled independently. So his reaction, not grasping the full situation, wasn't unreasonable.
"Yeon-ah."
Zhuge Gyeom's voice suddenly softened. Zhuge Yeon trembled even more at the shift.
"Yes."
"You know how much humiliation our Zhuge Clan has endured for lacking martial prodigies, don't you?"
"Yes. I know."
"Escaping that perception is our top priority."
Zhuge Yeon saw this brief softening as her last chance. She hesitantly opened her mouth, gauging his mood.
"On that note, I've been thinking about how to deal with that arrogant lay disciple."
"Arrogant lay disciple? Yeah, he was."
Zhuge Gyeom's face soured as he recalled Muk Hwi-yeong. A named lay disciple was a laughable system—running around with core disciples but still just a lay disciple at heart. For one to beat their direct lineage was a massive insult to the Zhuge Clan.
"Actually……."
Zhuge Yeon explained what had happened, skipping her attempt to sabotage Wudang's business and focusing only on how Muk Hwi-yeong had messed with the Infinite Merchant Association backed by the Zhuge Clan.
Zhuge Gyeom's expression crumpled as he listened. Even if the Zhuge Clan was the weakest in martial might among the Five Great Clans, they weren't to be dismissed by some Wudang lay disciple.
"Is that story true?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"It seemed too trivial, and I thought the outer court could handle it quietly."
Zhuge Gyeom pondered seriously. It was hard to believe. How much effort had he poured into raising Zhuge Hyeon? From childhood, he'd fed him elixirs countless times and even hired top masters to teach him martial arts.
Yet some lay disciple with less than a year under his belt had surpassed him. Zhuge Gyeom suspected the guy was hiding his past, but he had to prepare for the possibility it was true.
Wudang and the Zhuge Clan were both in Hubei. They were already suppressed by Wudang's momentum—if such talent emerged there, they'd suffer for another generation.
"At least he's just a lay disciple. That's a relief."
"Pardon?"
"They wouldn't pick a fight with the Zhuge Clan over one lay disciple, right?"
Zhuge Gyeom counted himself lucky. If the talent was real, it was a miracle they hadn't taken him as a core disciple. What were Wudang's eyes made of?
The Zhuge Clan had no clue that Wudang had repeatedly tried to recruit Muk Hwi-yeong as a core disciple, only for him to refuse.
"He runs a merchant group?"
"Yes."
"Handle it yourself properly. Make sure no tails are left."
Zhuge Yeon bowed and backed out of the head's chamber. She let out a sigh of relief the moment she was out. She'd gotten through it unscathed today.
And now she had the clan's permission. That meant she could mobilize real manpower.
"Muk Hwi-yeong……."
She didn't know how things had gotten so tangled. But Zhuge Yeon firmly believed the cause lay with Muk Hwi-yeong, not her.
***
"Man, we basically got chased out."
"Doesn't that make you feel good, though?"
Cheonghwa and Muk Hwi-yeong chuckled as they chatted.
In truth, they hadn't even seen the Zhuge family head or outer head Zhuge Chan. A servant had simply relayed that the head seemed agitated, so they should quietly return to Wudang and expect a letter later.
"It was fun."
"Didn't expect you to win too. Honestly, I went along hoping you'd lose once."
"Come on, what kinda talk is that?"
Muk Hwi-yeong and Cheonghwa looked in high spirits. Winning against their opponents naturally felt great.
But what about me?
The thought struck Myeongseong, who stared at his palm. Calluses covered it. These hands had disciplined a peer from the Zhuge Clan.
Yet he couldn't revel like Muk Hwi-yeong or brush it off with Myeongil's poise.
Annoying. Why?.
It wasn't annoyance at Muk Hwi-yeong. He was an older martial brother, older than him, a weird merchant type—but not a bad guy. Myeongseong had been thrilled when his brother pulled off the upset win.
Not Myeongil either. He wasn't the type to annoy anyone. He just diligently handled his own business.
The master went without saying. He was the one Myeongseong respected most.
So where was this annoyance coming from, and where was it directed? The answer was simple: from himself, toward himself. He'd once only felt inferior to Myeongil, but now Muk Hwi-yeong too. And worse with Muk Hwi-yeong—a guy with just a few months of training had leaped far ahead.
But he knew. His job wasn't envying or resenting others—it was silently cultivating his martial arts. He hated himself for getting distracted. But he hated just watching himself grow ever more pathetic.
"……Haa."
"What's wrong?"
A sigh slipped out unbidden, and Cheonghwa turned to ask. Muk Hwi-yeong and Myeongil looked at Myeongseong too.
Myeongseong wondered if he should voice his thoughts.
"Um……."
"Yeah?"
Myeongseong hesitated. But saying it aloud felt stupid even to him. Worry flickered in Cheonghwa's eyes. What if spilling such a foolish thought disappointed him? The idea flashed through his mind.
"Never mind."
"Why? Something bothering you?"
"No. My feet hurt a bit on the way from Yangyang to Gyunhyeon, but it's fine now."
"I see. Just a bit left to Gyunhyeon, so hang in there."
Cheonghwa smiled. Myeongseong forced a smile back. Only then did Cheonghwa turn away, seemingly relieved. Myeongil, indifferent to others, had been gazing at a tree the whole time.
To the end, Myeongseong hoped Cheonghwa might notice the sadness behind his smile—then scolded himself for his weakness.
That's when Myeongseong noticed someone still watching him. Looking up sharply, he met Muk Hwi-yeong's gaze, deep with an insight beyond his years.
***
The moment we arrived at Wudang, we were swarmed by people. News traveled faster than a horse without legs, it seemed. Our crushing of the Zhuge Clan had already spread across all of Wudang Mountain.
"You beat the Zhuge Clan's later-generation disciples?"
"That's my juniors for you."
Myeongil stayed expressionless even as senior brothers ruffled his hair, while Myeongseong waved them off, insisting he hadn't done much.
Hmm.
Something felt off about Myeongseong. I knew his claim of sore feet was a lie.
He trained harder than anyone without complaint. No way walking from Yangyang to Gyunhyeon would faze him. And that final, shadowed gaze. Myeongseong clearly had worries.
"Um……."
As I moved toward Myeongseong, the crowd closed in, chattering at me.
"Hey, Hwi-yeong. You beat Zhuge Hyeon? He's no slouch."
"Impressive. You weren't that strong last time."
Most around me were from the Yichang trip. Others, wary of my lay disciple status, gossiped from afar.
"He really has talent. They say he started as a total newbie without even clan basics."
"No way that's true. How'd he beat Zhuge Hyeon then?"
I ignored the murmurs. Easier to take it as praise for my talent.
"Alright, everyone, back to your duties. We need to head to the Samcheong Hall."
Cheonghwa shooed them away with a straight face. Having known him longest, I could read it: he was holding back a grin. He was thrilled by the attention.
We followed Cheonghwa into the sect leader's chamber in Samcheong Hall. Sect Leader Cheong-ui was already waiting, standing to greet us.
"Ah, you've arrived. Wudang's treasures."
Cheong-ui didn't hide his delight.
"Sect Leader Senior Brother, you'll spoil them."
"Hoho. Praise the well-done kids. You did great. Myeongil, Myeongseong, Hwi-yeong."
Myeongil, unmoved by others' praise, finally showed a hint of shyness. He only responded to those he acknowledged.
"Word's already spreading like wildfire through the Beggars' Sect. Zhuge Clan's direct lineage lost to Wudang lay disciples. You've raised Wudang's name high."
"I see."
As the saying went, rumors spread through the Beggars' Sect. With beggars all over the Central Plains carrying the word, it was bound to be fast.
"As sect leader, I should reward such feats."
Cheong-ui handed each of us a jade box, as if expecting us.
"……Whoa, Sect Leader Senior Brother. You're too generous."
Cheonghwa recognized it from the box alone. We lay and named disciples had a hunch too. Opening them filled the room with a rich fragrance.
"Taecheongdan—Supreme Purity Pills."
We named disciples froze. We'd guessed elixirs, but Taecheongdan? If Shaolin had the Great Return Pill, Wudang had the Taecheongdan.
Handing them to kids like this. And I was a lay disciple.
"The ancestors refine them tirelessly for young futures like yours. Use them."
"True enough."
Cheonghwa beamed—two of his disciples getting Taecheongdan.
"I'll give them to you, but their pure spiritual energy is too potent for you to fully absorb. Consult your masters, pick an auspicious day, purify yourselves with baths, then take them."
"Yes, understood."
Only I replied. Myeongil and Myeongseong seemed dazed, missing it.
I was barely holding it together, the Taecheongdan's tickling scent overwhelming me.
Because the demonic qi in my body was violently rejecting the pill's pure spiritual energy.
"Urk—bleeech!"
I couldn't hold back and hurled a bellyful right there in the sect leader's chamber.
The warm atmosphere turned ice-cold in an instant.
If I'd known demonic qi and spiritual energy clashed so badly, I'd have prepared. What was common sense to martial artists wasn't for me. Proof I still wasn't one.
Yeah, I still don't really know what a martial artist is.