Why Don’t You People Know That? (3)
“Ugh… did I drink too much?”
Jo Gul lifted his head and stared up at the sky.
The night was so deep it was practically morning already.
The banquet hosted by the Beast Palace Lord had gone on until well past dawn. More precisely, it was the drinking contest between the Beast Palace Lord and Chung Myung that had gone on until dawn.
Who won?
How the hell am I supposed to know?
Left to deal with two men who had absolutely no intention of stopping, everyone else had already gone back to their lodgings. The Mount Hua disciples, too, had dragged their exhausted bodies to the quarters the Southern Barbarian Beast Palace had assigned them and decided to unload their baggage there first.
“Mngh. I hope nobody wakes us until lunch.”
Though, to be fair, they’d probably all drunk plenty themselves.
After washing his face at the well and shaking the water from it, Jo Gul staggered back to the quarters and pushed open the door.
Inside, Yoon Jong, already prepared for bed, was opening the window and looking outside.
“Aren’t you going to sleep, sahyung?”
“I suppose I should.”
Yoon Jong turned to look at Jo Gul with an easy answer.
“...Is something troubling you?”
“Troubling me, I mean…”
Yoon Jong gave a short laugh.
They were in Yunnan, inside the Southern Barbarian Beast Palace. Asking whether he had any worries was almost ridiculous.
Even if the Beast Palace Lord had welcomed them in a way that was nothing like what they had expected, this was still not a place where they could afford to let their guard down.
But Yoon Jong knew that wasn’t what Jo Gul was really asking.
“Gul.”
“Yes, sahyung.”
“I’m sorry. Because of this worthless idiot.”
“What are you saying, sahyung?” Jo Gul frowned. “It’s already over.”
“Only because things went well. One bad turn and I might have gotten everyone killed because of me.” Yoon Jong’s face hardened. “Even if things had gone wrong, Chung Myung would have found some way to handle it.”
“That’s the problem.”
“Huh?”
Yoon Jong shook his head.
“Chung Myung’s there, so somehow it’ll work out. I may have unconsciously thought that, too. I should be helping him, not becoming a burden. And in the end, I became one anyway, didn’t I?”
“Sahyung…”
“It was foolish. I won’t do something like that again. I’m sorry.”
“No, sahyung.”
Jo Gul sighed. No matter what he said, he knew he couldn’t wash away the weight in Yoon Jong’s heart, and that made his own chest feel heavy.
“But… why did you act like that? I’ve never seen you look so serious before.”
“Because…”
Yoon Jong closed his mouth.
He seemed to think about it deeply, then let out a long sigh.
“Do you know I was an orphan?”
“Yes, I heard.”
“Then do you know I used to be a beggar?”
“Huh?”
Jo Gul’s eyes widened slightly.
Yoon Jong watched him quietly before speaking in a calm voice.
“For as long as I can remember, I lived alone with my mother. I had no relatives, no acquaintances. After she died, I had no choice but to beg. I became a beggar.”
“...Sahyung.”
“I still remember it clearly. That winter day, when I was freezing to death on the street while no one helped me. What’s even more ridiculous is that back then, the hunger hurt more than the cold. When you go more than ten days without eating anything, you stop caring about what kind of person you are. I wanted to steal food even if I had to kill someone for it. If I hadn’t been a child, I would have become a bandit for sure.”
Jo Gul fell silent.
This was the first time he had heard Yoon Jong speak so openly about his past.
And it was also the first time he had heard such raw, unguarded words from someone who always tried so hard to uphold the duties of a Daoist as Mount Hua’s Great Disciple.
“If the elder who happened to pass by hadn’t saved me then, I would have died on that street. Mount Hua is my benefactor. Even with its difficult circumstances, it took in a dying beggar child and raised him.”
Yoon Jong quietly closed his eyes.
Whether he was remembering the past or gathering his thoughts, Jo Gul couldn’t tell. He only knew he didn’t want to interrupt that silence carelessly.
“Ever since then, whenever I see someone starving, it brings back old memories. Maybe because I know exactly how hard and painful it is… I can’t control myself. It felt like I was reliving that pain of having my insides clawed out.”
“I understand, sahyung.”
“You understand?”
“Yes, sahyung.”
“Would you have understood me if you had died?”
“...”
“Would you have been able to tell me from the underworld that it was still all right?”
“Sahyung.”
Yoon Jong said firmly, “It was the act of a complete fool. Helping people whose names I don’t even know is the Dao, yes—but so is protecting the safety of the people I do know, my fellow disciples and martial brothers. How could I think only that was the Dao? And then I went and sold off the sect’s sword as well.”
Deep regret stained Yoon Jong’s face. If things had gone wrong, he would not have been able to close his eyes even in death.
He bit down hard on his lip.
“Once we return to Mount Hua, I’ll beg Sect Leader for forgiveness. I don’t know whether I’ll be able to receive the Plum Blossom Sword again, but… even if I can’t, what excuse would I have?”
Jo Gul, who had been listening quietly to that desolate voice, waved a hand.
“Sahyung, I don’t know about the first part, but I’m pretty sure nobody’s going to curse you for selling the Plum Blossom Sword.”
“Why not?”
“Because the Plum Blossom Sword is Mount Hua’s sword, but it isn’t Mount Hua’s sacred treasure.”
“Hm?”
Jo Gul cleared his throat.
“If Chung Myung had heard it, he’d have said something like this:
‘What? A sacred treasure? Sacred treeeasure? If slapping plum blossoms on a sword makes it a sacred treasure, then slapping plum blossoms on clothes makes the clothes a sacred treasure too, huh? If you put plum blossoms on a wine bottle, does the alcohol become sacred too?’
Something like that.”
“...”
Jo Gul smiled at Yoon Jong.
“What matters isn’t some external trinket like that. What matters is how much sahyung thinks about Mount Hua, isn’t it?”
Yoon Jong gave a bitter smile.
It wasn’t because he truly accepted Jo Gul’s words. It was because he understood Jo Gul’s feelings—understood that Jo Gul was trying his best to put him at ease.
“Didn’t Chung Myung say it himself? What matters isn’t not making mistakes, but what you learn from them. Sahyung, did you learn?”
“...Yes. I did.”
“Then isn’t that enough?”
Yoon Jong let out a breath and quietly closed his eyes.
Are you all right? Open your eyes a little.
Elder.
Hyun Sang’s figure flashed in his mind as he had lifted Yoon Jong into his arms.
I’m sorry.
“Go to sleep. We have a lot to do. Just think about finding the Purple Wood Grass and returning to Mount Hua.”
“Yes. I should.”
Yoon Jong gave a light nod and headed for the bed.
He lay down, closed his eyes, and forced himself to welcome a sleep that refused to come when a low voice suddenly reached him.
“Sahyung.”
“Hm?”
“What you did may have been wrong.”
“...Yes.”
“Even so…”
“Hm?”
“I like that you’re that kind of person.”
“...”
“Go to sleep.”
The room fell quiet.
Yoon Jong raised a hand and wiped at the corner of his eyes, then shut them tightly.
It looked like he wouldn’t be falling asleep before morning after all.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
“...Is he alive?”
“Looks dead to me.”
“No, I think he might still be breathing.”
The Mount Hua disciples gathered around Chung Myung, who was sprawled face-down in front of the quarters, all of them wearing grave expressions.
Jo Gul poked Chung Myung with a stick he had picked up from somewhere.
“Dead?”
“He should be. If he ate that much and’s still alive, he wouldn’t be human.”
“Honestly, there has to be a limit to how much a person can fit in their stomach. Does it even make sense to drink all of it? I heard that was the liquor they’d set aside for a wedding banquet yesterday.”
“Drunkard.”
Jab. Jab-jab.
As Jo Gul kept prodding him, the face-down Chung Myung suddenly twitched.
“He’s alive!”
“We told him to realize the Dao, and instead he realized the Dao of drinking. In a very wrong direction.”
“So who won?”
Just then—
“Uuuuuugh…”
A hideous groan, the kind you’d expect to hear in hell, escaped Chung Myung’s mouth.
“I… I won…”
“Just go back to sleep. You were magnificent.”
“Yeah, yeah. If you won, you can die now.”
“Kehk! I’m not dead!”
With a long, drawn-out grunt, Chung Myung slowly pushed himself upright and sat on the wooden veranda.
“J-just give me a glass of cold water…”
“This sect is really going somewhere, huh? A martial uncle fetching water for his martial nephew?”
Baek Cheon handed him the cold water he’d prepared in advance. Chung Myung took it without a word, downed it in one go, then set the bowl aside and clutched his head.
“Ugh… my, my head…”
“...Wouldn’t it be better to just flush out the hangover with inner energy at that point? You did that before.”
“Then why drink at all? Just drink water!”
“Right, right. You said the same thing before.”
Baek Cheon let out a deep sigh.
Looking at the face of a man who was practically half-dead made it hard not to sigh.
And yet…
Still, this bastard did well.
The best way to build friendship with the Beast Palace was to get close to the Beast Palace Lord. And from the looks of it, the Beast Palace Lord’s standing here was absolute.
Whether Chung Myung had known what he was doing or had simply gotten drunk and cheerful without realizing it, it was clear enough that he had established real rapport with the Beast Palace Lord.
“Ahh, I’m dying.”
Just as Chung Myung shook his head a couple of times and looked up, one of the Beast Palace’s disciples came trotting toward them.
“You’re awake?”
His attitude was completely different from yesterday’s. The bow of his body carried a level of courtesy that was unmistakable.
Well, once the Beast Palace Lord had recognized them as guests, it was only natural for the disciples’ attitude to change as well.
“Yes.”
“The Palace Lord is looking for you.”
“What?”
Chung Myung glared.
“He’s already up? After drinking that much?”
At his reaction, the corners of Baek Cheon’s mouth twitched.
“Looks like you lost, Chung Myung.”
“...Th-this can’t be.”
“Loser.”
Baek Cheon laughed and followed the Beast Palace disciple out.
Life was full of surprises. Even seeing Chung Myung lose was enough to make him absurdly happy.
...No way.
For just an instant, Baek Cheon had basked in his delight, but sorrow quickly filled his eyes. In front of them, seated on the enormous chair covered in tiger hide, the Beast Palace Lord had looked every bit the spirited, imposing man he’d seemed to be yesterday—
No. Not imposing.
“Uuugh…”
How much did those two drink?
The Beast Palace Lord, who looked as though he could still hold up a collapsing sky with one hand, had been cut in half overnight.
His eyes were dark and sunken, his cheeks hollow, and he looked less like a martial lord than a man dying from some terrible disease.
In a voice that was cracking apart, he asked Chung Myung, “A-are you all right?”
“Haha! I’m perfectly fine. I could drink more today—”
“Ugh! More—!”
The Mount Hua disciples went pale and rushed toward Chung Myung. First, they clamped a hand over his mouth and shouted:
“Don’t you dare puke, you lunatic!”
“Where do you think you are, throwing up here? Swallow it back down!”
“A bucket! Get a bucket, now!”
The Beast Palace Lord burst into boisterous laughter at the sight.
“Exactly. There’s no way someone could eat that much and still be fine—wueeeaaaghhh!”
“Aaaah! Palace Lord! You can’t throw up again!”
“Here! Over here!”
It was utter pandemonium. One of the Beast Palace disciples, unable to endure it any longer, shouted out:
“If your stomach’s that upset, then use your inner force to settle the hangover!”
“What? You idiot! Then why the hell would you drink? You’d just drink water!”
At that, Baek Cheon, watching the mess unfold, smiled with satisfied warmth and asked, “...Am I imagining things, or have I heard that exact line somewhere before?”
“You’re imagining it, martial uncle. No way that happened.”
By then, after thrashing around for a while, Chung Myung and the Beast Palace Lord wiped at their mouths and looked up at each other.
“At this point…”
“A tie?”
The contest between the two men, who had been drinking like mad until dawn, had finally ended with the liquor running out. That meant the decision had to be made by how they looked the next day, but there wasn’t much difference between the two ruined states.
“...You’re amazing.”
“So are you.”
The Mount Hua disciples watched the two exhausted men give each other thumbs-up and smiled with quiet pride.
They’re having a great time.
Looks like there’s something only those two understand.
Disgusting.
And then they thought that the lives of the Beast Palace disciples probably weren’t all that happy either. If their palace lord was anything like this bastard, then he must have been putting them through hell. For some reason, a strange sense of kinship and pity welled up in them.
“But why did you call for us first thing in the morning?”
“Ah, right.”
The Beast Palace Lord shoved the bucket aside and spoke.
“That Purple Wood Grass thing you mentioned yesterday.”
“Yes.”
“Turns out one of the guys who overheard you already asked around with the merchants. I called because one of them who knows about it is coming here.”
“Wow. That was fast.”
“Hohoho. People from Yunnan are always quick and accurate.”
Watching the two of them snicker together, the Mount Hua disciples let out long sighs.
Anyone looking at them would think they’d known each other for twenty years.
Thankfully, before long, a merchant entered through the door and put an end to the two of them bonding any further.
“I greet the sun of Yunnan, the Palace Lord.”
“Cut the formalities and get to it! So, do you know about Purple Wood Grass?”
It was a fiery style of speech that didn’t even give the man time to introduce himself. The merchant seemed used to this sort of thing and got straight to the point without hesitation.
“What Central Plains folk call Purple Wood Grass is what we in Yunnan call Divine Spirit Grass.”
“What did you say?”
The Beast Palace Lord’s voice boomed.
“You said Divine Spirit Grass?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“You came looking for Divine Spirit Grass?”
The Beast Palace Lord’s eyes widened. The missing fire in his voice returned at once.
No, wait. What the hell was that supposed to be…?
“...Is it something impressive?” Chung Myung asked, feeling a bit uneasy. The reaction was way too intense, and the atmosphere didn’t feel good.
“...No. It’s not really that impressive.”
Well, of course.
Hadn’t they said it was something that had once been traded to the Central Plains? If it were really that amazing, there would’ve been no way it could have become a commerce item in the first place.
But the Beast Palace Lord still wore a troubled expression. Then he scratched his head hard with a large hand.
“Uugh. How do I put this…”
“Is there some kind of problem?”
At Chung Myung’s question, the Beast Palace Lord let out a deep sigh from his massive mouth.
“Even when things get tangled, they sure know how to get tangled. First of all, the Purple Wood Grass you mentioned—Divine Spirit Grass—definitely exists in Yunnan. But…”
He seemed about to say more, then shook his head.
“No. There’s no point in explaining it with words. Come with me. I’ll show you where the Divine Spirit Grass is myself.”
The Beast Palace Lord shot to his feet.
Looking at that huge body, confidence came naturally—
“Follow me—uup! Bucket! Bucket, quickly! Wueeeaaagh!”
...and just as naturally, it vanished.
It vanished all on its own.