No, But Those Bastards? (2)
"Ugh."
Hyun Jong pressed a hand to his forehead as if trying to ease a headache right through his skull.
Then he shot to his feet, glaring daggers, and barked, "Can’t you keep your arms up straight?"
Chung Myung, who had quietly lowered his arms, lifted them back up in a flash.
Poor bastard was being punished to kneel in the corner of the inn with his arms held up over his head.
"You little punk! You couldn’t even endure a little while without causing trouble!"
"No, I’m telling you, those bastards started by badmouthing Mount Hua!"
"And that makes it all right, does it?"
"Tch."
"Uuuuuugh!"
As Hyun Jong clutched the back of his neck and looked ready to collapse, Hyun Sang hurried over and caught him.
"Are you all right, Sect Leader?"
"Ghk... I feel like my lifespan is shrinking."
Hyun Sang looked at him with obvious concern, but Hyun Young, watching from the side, was utterly unimpressed.
"You’ve probably gained plenty back since the sect got rich, so losing a little won’t kill you. More importantly, why are you starving the kid? If you’re going to punish him, at least let him eat. Chung Myung, come on, get up. Time to eat!"
Once again, Hyun Jong snapped, "I am punishing him, you know—!"
But he flinched and cut himself off.
Hyun Young was staring at him with bloodshot eyes.
Wasn’t that the face of a man who looked capable of biting someone’s head off?
"Sect Leader."
"...Y-yes?"
Hyun Jong answered stiffly at that ominous voice.
"Have you forgotten the days when the sect had no grain, and we had to go hunting wild animals with the kids and digging up roots together?"
"...No. Of course I haven’t forgotten."
"When Mount Hua, a sect that called itself one of the great orthodox sects, had nothing to eat and had to scrape up grass roots, do you know what I resolved?"
"W-well?"
Hyun Young clenched his teeth.
"I swore that once we made money and could actually live like people, I’d never let the kids go hungry, even if it killed me. Punishing them is one thing, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t let them miss a meal. Do you understand what I’m saying?"
"...Yes."
Only then did Hyun Young’s expression soften. He turned to Chung Myung with a bright smile.
"Chung Myung. Go eat. Now."
"Yep!"
Chung Myung sprang up and dashed toward the table loaded with meat. Watching that, Hyun Jong clutched his throbbing head.
What sin did I commit in my last life...?
Was that really a disciple? Was that really a member of the sect?
Heaving a deep sigh, he turned his head slightly and looked at Hyun Young and Chung Myung.
"Still... I suppose the hard years are being handled well..."
That was when it happened.
"Elder! Can we order more liquor?"
"Of course, of course! Eat whatever you like! If you’re going to eat, you should have the best!"
"Kyaaa! Kyaa!"
"That’s it! That’s my boy."
Hyun Jong squeezed his eyes shut.
If only he could cover his ears, he would have done that too. That, more than anything, was Hyun Jong’s misery.
Let’s just stop caring.
Watching this kind of thing could only cost him more of the lifespan he had so painstakingly extended.
With a hardened face, Hyun Jong looked at the people seated before him.
His gaze settled on one man.
Seeing the poor fellow with a black-and-blue swollen face and split lip, he felt so ashamed he could have cried.
"...I do apologize."
"N-no, it’s all right."
Jomal Saeng, who had been thoroughly beaten by Chung Myung, waved his hands awkwardly.
The man seated beside him, Mun Pyeong, gave a wry smile and spoke.
"Please don’t worry about it, Sect Leader. In the Jianghu, if you get caught badmouthing another sect, it’s hardly strange to lose your head over it. We’re grateful you let it end with this much."
"Grr... still..."
"My friend here will probably learn something from this as well. He’s always been too loose with his tongue, and I’d been thinking that one day he’d get a proper drubbing for it..."
Mun Pyeong glanced at Jomal Saeng.
The other man clearly had nothing to say in his defense, only puffing out his lips in silence.
"Tsk tsk."
Mun Pyeong clicked his tongue.
Yes, I did think something like this would happen sooner or later.
In the Jianghu, one had to be careful with one’s mouth above all else. Anyone who spoke carelessly was certain to bring disaster on themselves.
The only reason this had ended as it had was because Mount Hua, being a Daoist sect and all, still claimed to follow the orthodox path. If they had run into someone truly vicious, Jomal Saeng would have lost his head on the spot and had no chance to explain himself.
What was truly surprising, though...
Mun Pyeong’s gaze drifted over. Chung Myung was seated at the other table, drinking heartily and with obvious relish.
The Mount Hua Divine Dragon.
He’d heard the rumors, but he hadn’t expected him to be this much.
In fact, Jomal Saeng, sitting beside him, was not a weak man despite his loose tongue. Yet he had been beaten one-sidedly without even the chance to resist.
A sneak attack?
No way.
There was nothing uglier than a martial artist making excuses about a sneak attack. Anyone who survived the Jianghu had to be prepared at all times for ambushes and tricks.
Jomal Saeng wasn’t the sort of man who wouldn’t know that. Which meant he’d genuinely been beaten by skill alone.
Mount Hua’s strength is even greater than the rumors said.
Perhaps Mount Hua would stir up a storm at this coming martial competition.
And it isn’t just the Mount Hua Divine Dragon.
His eyes shifted to the disciples of Mount Hua sitting beside Chung Myung and ripping into the meat.
"Waiter! More meat here!"
"And dumplings!"
"Liquor! Mooore lii—"
When Baek Cheon shot them a sharp look, the Baek-generation disciple who had shouted for liquor shrank back with his head bowed low.
"There’s always one idiot who goes one step too far."
"...I’m sorry."
"Seriously, I—"
"..."
They were, quite literally, wolfing down food like ravenous beasts.
Mun Pyeong let out a dry laugh.
They’re a little different from the Mount Hua I imagined...
Mount Hua, in his mind, had seemed like a sect of sword masters with a slightly weaker Daoist temperament than Wudang but great pride in the sword. Yet the Mount Hua before his eyes now looked like...
"A bunch of bandits."
"Yes, bandi— no, you keep your mouth shut!"
Jomal Saeng, who had muttered that under his breath, shut up immediately at Mun Pyeong’s rebuke.
Though honestly, they really do look like bandits.
At least they wore well-made martial robes instead of animal skins, and their manners were more refined than actual bandits.
If you stripped their clothes off, they’d look exactly like a gang of raiders coming down from the hills to pillage a village.
Had it not been for the plum blossom-engraved swords hanging at their waists, Mun Pyeong would have doubted whether these people were really from Mount Hua.
"Ahem."
Coughing lightly, Mun Pyeong asked Hyun Jong, "Then are you on your way to participate in the Heavenly Martial Arts Tournament?"
"Yes, indeed. We sent the child ahead to place our meal order in advance, but to think something like this would happen in the meantime... I’m terribly ashamed."
Hyun Jong looked at a loss, and Mun Pyeong suppressed a smile.
This man is far more innocent than his position would suggest.
If he had been the Sect Leader of another sect, he would likely have demanded justice for the insult Jomal Saeng had thrown at Mount Hua the moment he heard the story.
And the Mount Hua Divine Dragon, who had punished him, would probably have been rewarded instead of reprimanded.
Yet here he was, wearing such a guilty expression.
A Sect Leader as pure as any Daoist, and...
Mun Pyeong’s gaze drifted back to the Mount Hua disciples, and he gave another dry chuckle.
a completely different breed of disciples. I wonder what kind of sect this will become.
He lowered himself a little further.
"Sect Leader, although it was our own fault, we feel terribly ashamed to have caused you such trouble. Let me apologize on this fellow’s behalf, and I beg you to accept it with a generous heart."
"People say even the king is cursed behind his back where he can’t hear it. How can that be a crime?"
"People may curse behind someone’s back, but isn’t it only natural to lose your head if you do it right in front of them?"
"Hmm."
Mun Pyeong smiled faintly.
"Among the loudmouthed fellows of the Jianghu, we’re sometimes called the Horse-Mouse Duo. We’re fairly quick when it comes to hearing news from the martial world, so to repay this debt, if we hear anything discreet about the Heavenly Martial Arts Tournament, we’ll be sure to pass it along."
"That would be most appreciated."
Mun Pyeong smiled again and cupped his fists.
"If you’ll excuse us, then we should be on our way."
"Weren’t you staying here?"
"No. We only stopped by briefly."
In truth, they had intended to stay here tonight, but after things had turned out like this, they no longer had the face to occupy seats at the table.
When Mun Pyeong gave Jomal Saeng a subtle look of complaint, the other man sighed and got to his feet.
"I truly am sorry again, Sect Leader. I was being foolish..."
"No, really, it’s fine."
"I will surely repay this kindness."
After bowing deeply, Jomal Saeng turned away with an awkward expression. Mun Pyeong also bowed and followed after him.
"Grrr..."
Once the situation was finally settled, Hyun Jong let out a long sigh and looked back at the elders.
"I worry."
"About what?"
"They’re already causing trouble here... will things truly stay quiet once they reach Songshan?"
At that, Hyun Young snorted.
"What’s wrong with causing a little trouble?"
"Hmm?"
Hyun Young’s expression turned slightly cold.
"If someone weak causes trouble, it’s trouble. If someone strong causes trouble, it becomes spirit and presence. Frankly, how many times have Shaolin and Wudang butted into other people’s business and turned everything to crap? Every time, what did the martial world say? They said it was spirit and righteousness, didn’t they?"
"Hmm."
"Leave them be. In the end, when we’re dead, this will be the Mount Hua they’ll have to lead. It’s not always best to force things into the mold we know."
"...You want me to leave that Chung Myung alone?"
At Hyun Jong’s words, Hyun Young glanced back over his shoulder.
"Agh!"
Chung Myung was mercilessly stabbing at Jo Gul with his chopsticks as the other tried to steal his meat.
"...Though maybe that one does need a little restraint."
"Ugh."
What a worry. What a headache.
But unlike Hyun Jong’s anxieties, Mount Hua’s journey went smoothly.
Of course Chung Myung caused a few absurd incidents here and there, but thanks to Baek Cheon’s now-habitual cleanup afterward and Hyun Young’s mediation, nothing truly serious happened.
Several days passed like that.
And at last, the disciples of Mount Hua arrived at the foot of Songshan.
"Oh!"
"Songshan!"
The disciples of Mount Hua all exclaimed in admiration as they looked at the mountain.
It might not have been the most famous mountain in the world, but in the Jianghu, Songshan was famous enough to be called the most renowned mountain of all.
The reason was simple.
Shaolin stood on this very mountain.
Thousand-Year Shaolin.
Named for its location on Shaoshi Peak of Songshan, this Buddhist sect had led the martial world with unshakable strength for ages.
Since they were finally visiting the Shaolin they had only ever heard about, it was only natural that everyone’s hearts were filled with excitement.
"Doesn’t the mountain feel like it has something special about it?"
"A mountain’s just a mountain. What’s so special about it?"
"No, but it feels very different from Mount Hua."
If Mount Hua was lofty and proud, Songshan was soft and gentle. One might even say it gave off a warm feeling, as though it embraced everything.
That alone was enough to make Mount Hua’s disciples feel that this was a completely different world.
And besides...
"Why are there so many people?"
"They don’t look like martial artists."
The road leading up to Shaoshi Peak was packed shoulder to shoulder with pilgrims and merchants setting up makeshift stalls, a true sea of people.
For disciples accustomed to Mount Hua’s ever-quiet and secluded slopes, this was practically another world.
Then Yoon Jong asked, sounding puzzled, "Elder. Is Songshan always this crowded with visitors?"
"Hmm, I’m not sure. This is my first time coming here myself."
The elders were no different. They, too, had spent their entire lives bound to Mount Hua.
Now that they were finally realizing just how great Shaolin’s standing was, they already felt a little intimidated.
That was when Chung Myung spoke up.
"It’s not usually this bad. Probably because people came to watch the tournament."
"Really?"
Yoon Jong turned to Chung Myung, who had answered him.
"How do you know something like that?"
"...Uh. I came here once when I was living as a beggar."
"What was there to eat up on a mountain?"
"I came for temple gruel."
"..."
Chung Myung looked at the crowd packed along the road and said indifferently, "Mount Hua probably used to be like this."
"Hmm."
That quiet, unassuming remark pierced deeply into the hearts of Mount Hua’s disciples.
Baek Cheon said in a calm voice, "Sect Leader."
"Yes?"
"Once this martial arts tournament is over, Mount Hua will be crowded with people too, won’t it?"
Hyun Jong smiled warmly.
"That is exactly how it should be."
"Yes. Then..."
Chung Myung stretched his arms wide.
"Let’s go see how amazing those so-called prestigious righteous sects really are."
The elders nodded.
And at the same time, one thought came to each of them.
Of course, even for them, this was the first time truly experiencing a prestigious orthodox sect firsthand.
But...
It’s probably the first time for them too.
Meaning, the first time dealing with someone like Chung Myung.
Thinking of that, the elders almost felt sorry for them instead.
"Let’s go!"
"Yes!"
The disciples of Mount Hua set off up Songshan with resolute determination in their eyes.
Shaolin, huh.
Chung Myung, bringing up the rear, curved his lips slightly.
The martial tournament you’re all imagining is already over.
This tournament would become a tournament for Mount Hua alone.
Because Chung Myung would make sure of it.