Life Was Never Fair to Begin With (4)
"What exactly are you comparing me to? My personality?"
"The fact that there wasn’t a shred of talent in him is very similar."
"You little—"
Chung Myung grinned and shrugged.
"He was timid by nature, and he had no talent for the sword."
"…."
"Mount Hua is that kind of place. It’s full of guys who spend all day trying to show off their strength. So he got pushed around a lot by his more boisterous senior brothers. Not exactly bullying, but still."
"Wasn’t that less because of Mount Hua and more because that senior brother of his was just an asshole?"
"You son of a—"
"Huh?"
"…No, never mind."
Baek Sang tilted his head, not understanding why it felt like Chung Myung had started to twitch with anger.
"Anyway."
Chung Myung cleared his throat again and went on.
"Being short on talent means exactly that. Even if you put in the same amount of time, everyone else keeps moving ahead while you’re the one left behind. That bastard probably felt that too."
Baek Sang slowly nodded.
That was exactly how he felt right now.
It wasn’t quite resentment. But the lingering sense of regret and emptiness was impossible to shake.
"He was born with a frail body, and while other people learned things through their bodies, he had to understand everything only with his head. A normal person would have given up a dozen times over. So what do you think he did?"
"…He worked at it? Worked himself to death and overcame it?"
"No."
Chung Myung shook his head.
"He just held on."
"…."
"A hundred days. A thousand days. Ten thousand days. For all those endless years, he simply did what he had to do and endured in silence. Then, when decades had passed, no one could look down on him anymore. By then, he had become one of the most important people in that sect."
Baek Sang frowned.
"Even though he wasn’t strong?"
"Why does he have to be strong?"
Chung Myung tilted his head.
"Of course, I’m not telling you to give up on getting stronger, Sajil. But strength isn’t what proves a person’s worth. Is Elder Hyun Young someone Mount Hua can do without?"
"Of course not."
"Right. Of course not. Then why do you think that about yourself?"
"…I…."
Baek Sang bit his lower lip lightly.
Watching him, Chung Myung’s eyes turned faintly strange.
"Want me to tell you something nice? Since everyone’s talent is different, if you keep working steadily, Sajil, maybe one day you’ll overtake those who look gifted now. You’re a late bloomer."
"Really?"
"No."
"You little shit?"
Baek Sang began to tremble, but Chung Myung only shrugged at the reaction.
"I told you. Something nice. It might be true, and it might not be true. Does that really matter?"
"…."
"Everyone in the Jianghu wants to become the strongest in the world. So are the lives of those who don’t become the strongest in the world worthless?"
Chung Myung shook his head.
"No, they’re not."
He looked up at the night sky.
Right?
His senior brother, Cheong Jin, had once said something like that.
- Senior brother. I can’t become as strong as you. I’m weaker than not only you, but the other senior brothers too. But just because I’m not strong doesn’t mean I’m not important to Mount Hua. I’ll become someone Mount Hua needs more than anyone else.
- What did you say? I can’t hear you over all that weakling squeaking.
- You son of a….
Ah, that was the wrong memory.
Chung Myung snorted.
Still, Cheong Jin had gone on to prove his words.
He plunged into Mount Hua’s martial arts so deeply that, in terms of understanding them, he reached a level that even Chung Myung had to acknowledge.
Of course, he failed to express that understanding through his body, but in all of Mount Hua’s history, there had probably never been a chief librarian greater than Cheong Jin.
If Chung Myung could return to the past and save just one of Mount Hua’s senior brothers, he would choose Cheong Jin without hesitation.
Huh?
The sect leader?
Uh….
Well, that old man wasn’t exactly useful….
- Hey, you…!
Ah, don’t come out!
Chung Myung shook his head.
Before the final battle in the Hundred Thousand Great Mountains, Cheong Jin went missing in battle and never returned to Mount Hua.
If Cheong Jin had lived, Mount Hua would have become something entirely different from what it was now.
"A person’s goals are bound to change as they live."
"…."
"What’s your goal, Sajil? To become the strongest in the world? Or to become the strongest in Mount Hua?"
As if he understood what Chung Myung meant, Baek Sang let out a low sigh.
"But, Chung Myung."
"Yeah?"
"That’s not something you can say, is it? You’re on the path to completely achieving your own goal. Can you really understand my heart when you’ve never failed?"
"No, Sajil."
"…Huh?"
"I…."
Chung Myung lifted his head and looked at the sky.
"I have never once achieved my goal."
Staring quietly at the moon, Chung Myung closed his eyes.
Even now, he still dreamed sometimes.
Dreams of cutting off Cheon Ma’s head in the Hundred Thousand Great Mountains and returning to Mount Hua with his senior brothers.
Sometimes he’d mock the sect leader and get hit for it. Sometimes he’d beat down the junior disciples when they all banded together and tried to rebel.
Then they’d throw a grand drinking party.
Laugh.
Shout.
That was all.
Just that would have been enough.
Just that.
The strongest in the world?
The strongest in history?
What a joke.
What he had desperately wanted was to return to Mount Hua and live out his life as a malko who didn’t even know what Taoism was, then die there. Together with the senior brothers he had spent his whole life with.
That was the only reason he had thrown himself into that hellish war.
But that goal had never been fulfilled.
What remained here now was only a phantom with breath still clinging to him, unable to accomplish what he had to accomplish.
"So what?"
"…Huh?"
"You couldn’t do what you wanted. You couldn’t do what you were supposed to do. So what? Does that mean you just throw your hands up, give up on everything, and lie down?"
Baek Sang fell silent.
This wasn’t Chung Myung speaking to him. It was Chung Myung speaking to himself.
It was hard to understand, but he could still feel it.
"People keep living anyway."
"…."
If something has fallen apart, you build it again.
If something has failed, you try again.
And if there are things you still can’t achieve, things that keep stabbing at your heart, then you just carry them and keep living.
That was life.
Chung Myung stared at the sky with downcast eyes. Pressed by the mood around him, Baek Sang couldn’t bring himself to speak.
Why does it feel so heavy?
There was nothing in Chung Myung’s life that should have carried this kind of weight. And yet Baek Sang was feeling a strange ache he couldn’t explain.
Honestly, he still didn’t really understand what was being said. But he knew better than anyone that the way he felt right now wasn’t something a few words from a junior brother could untangle.
Still.
Strangely enough, I feel a little better.
Was it because of the alcohol that had started to rise in him a little while ago?
Or was it….
"Chung Myung."
"Yeah?"
Baek Sang looked at him blankly for a moment before speaking.
"Let me ask you one thing."
"What?"
"Am I someone Mount Hua needs, the way you’re building it?"
Chung Myung blinked at Baek Sang, then tilted his head.
"Do we really have to go that far?"
"…You little shit?"
What, did this bastard have to turn people’s insides over even in a moment like this?
He could have just said yes!
"Sajil."
"Yeah?"
"A family, fellow disciples, whatever—if it’s only because someone’s useful, that’s not family. That’s not even comradeship."
"…."
"Even if Sajil were useless as hell, it wouldn’t matter. As long as you’re carrying Mount Hua’s name, you’ll always be my Sajil."
"…."
"Isn’t that enough?"
Baek Sang gave a hollow laugh.
I wasn’t expecting that answer.
He had wanted to hear that he was needed.
But… even if he’d received that shallow answer, it would only have brought a moment’s comfort.
"Yeah. That’s enough."
Baek Sang took another swallow of liquor.
His chest burned.
But at the same time, he felt strangely lighter.
Caught in that impossible contradiction, he shot a sidelong glance at Chung Myung.
What a strange bastard.
Sometimes he was a thug unlike anything else in the world, and other times he showed a depth that no one could even begin to measure.
Impossible to grasp. Impossible to pin down.
That was why Baek Sang didn’t like Chung Myung.
People couldn’t easily like those who were too different from themselves.
And yet, strangely, the Chung Myung in front of him right now didn’t seem that hateful at all.
"Chung Myung."
"Yeah?"
"Will Mount Hua grow strong?"
"Of course."
"Then will there be a place for me in the Mount Hua you make?"
"There you go again, saying something dumb."
Chung Myung snorted softly.
"You’re the one who’ll make Mount Hua strong, Sajil. You’re the one who has to create that place."
"…I see."
My place.
Baek Sang nodded slowly.
"Yeah, I understand."
Chung Myung glanced at him.
There was a resolve in his face now. The hesitation that had been there a moment ago had vanished completely.
A smile touched Chung Myung’s lips.
"Another bottle?"
"No."
Baek Sang shook his head.
"Even if you don’t care, I don’t have the confidence to drink two bottles of hard liquor and not get caught. The sun’ll be coming up soon anyway, so I should get back in."
"What a shame."
"I’m not telling you to come with me. Finish your drink and get back before they catch you."
"You won’t tell on me?"
"I’m not that lacking in loyalty, punk."
Baek Sang brushed himself off and stood up. Then he started trudging back toward the direction where Shaolin was.
Just as Chung Myung was taking a new bottle from his bundle and pulling out the cork, Baek Sang turned back.
"Chung Myung."
"Yeah?"
Baek Sang was looking back from a distance.
"Thanks."
"…."
"You damned junior brother."
He laughed, waved, then spun around and kicked into motion with his lightness skill, racing off.
Watching that retreating figure in silence, Chung Myung flopped onto his back and stared up at the sky.
"…Aigoo. Sect Leader."
There’s so much to do.
"How did you ever manage all this back in the day?"
- If it hadn’t been for you, it wouldn’t have been hard at all, you brat!
"Even the way you say it sounds like you’re complaining."
I’m already regretting it a little, you know. I should’ve listened a little better.
Chung Myung smiled quietly.
"Still, it was good, wasn’t it?"
It was fun, wasn’t it?
Back then, I mean.
Chung Myung closed his eyes quietly.
The Mount Hua of now made him unbearably proud.
A sect leader who was nothing but kindhearted, and elders who always put the disciples first.
Strict, but good-hearted Un Generation seniors; second-generation and third-generation disciples who were a little lacking, but good people.
It was good.
He treasured this version of Mount Hua more than anything.
Only….
"Senior brother. Me, you know."
Sometimes I miss you so much.
Back then.
That time that could never come back.
"Don’t call me weak. Don’t scold me for being an old man who’s out of line, either. You still have your junior brothers with you, after all."
And there.
I should have been there too.
"I know. Sect Leader, I know. I’m the one who has to do it. I’m the one who has to raise Mount Hua again. That way, you and the junior brothers won’t be sad. That kind of thing is always my job, isn’t it? Doing what you and the junior brothers can’t do. That’s my role."
Chung Myung reached out and picked up the bottle of liquor.
"But sometimes…."
He took a mouthful and closed his eyes. The fierce scent of alcohol spread across his tongue.
"Sometimes I just want to be spoiled. So, you know. Please understand. Am I not a person too?"
Even now, when he closed his eyes, they came back to him.
The sect leader shouting at him in exasperation before him.
Cheong Jin, trying to hold that sect leader back while failing miserably to suppress his laughter.
Chung Gong muttering to himself in a corner.
And….
The junior brothers chattering away like they weren’t even Daoist priests at all.
Even if he drank alone beneath the moon, the alcohol never really took hold. Only his longing grew deeper.
Until even the moon hid its face and the sun rose far in the distance, Chung Myung sat there in silence, looking up at the sky, drinking.