The End Is Another Beginning (2)
"All right, all right! Hurry up and place your bets! Once the match starts, you won’t be able to anymore! This is your last chance!"
Wi Lip-san shouted at the top of his lungs, practically bellowing himself hoarse.
It was the only way anyone could have heard him over the din. The crowd that had gathered was already shouting over one another in front of the stall, each one waving money in the air.
"No, no! I’m trying to place a bet, so why won’t you take my money? I’m betting on Jong Seo-han!"
"I’ll put down five hundred nyang on Baek Cheon!"
"Move it! I’ll bet five hundred nyang on Jong Seo-han!"
"Who the hell thinks he can squeeze into this with five hundred nyang? Get lost! Hey, listen—I’ll put down a thousand nyang on Jong Seo-han! A thousand!"
"Fifty nyang! Fifty!"
"What’s with fifty nyang? Go buy some sweets with that!"
"Shut up, you rich bastards! I have every right to place a bet too! Just because you’ve got money doesn’t mean you get to look down on gambling!"
"Hey! Where do I get a ticket?!"
People rushed in like lunatics, each one shaking the money in their hand.
"So-haeng, hurry up and collect the money and hand out the tickets! Don’t forget to stamp them!"
"Yes, Father!"
"And just in case, write down the names and identifying details of everyone placing bets! They might try to steal the tickets."
"Yes!"
Wi So-haeng and the lay disciples of Hwayeong Gate took the money from the surging crowd and recorded the amounts and personal details in the ledger. They were all sweating bullets from the chaos.
"Hurry! Hurry, please! At this rate the match is going to start!"
"You bastard, who said you could cut in line? Should I stick a sword in your gut or what?"
"I told you, stop shoving! Stop shoving!"
The excited gamblers screamed and cursed at one another, turning the place into complete bedlam.
And through that chaotic mess, one person watched with obvious satisfaction.
"Well?"
"......"
Hyun Young, who had brought Baek Sang along to look over the stall, smiled brightly.
"This is how you make money. What do you think?"
Unlike Hyun Young, who looked utterly pleased with himself, Baek Sang couldn’t shake a strange sense of unease.
Is this really okay?
Was it all right to make money like this in a Daoist sect? In a Daoist sect of all places?
"Um... Elder."
"Hm?"
"I-is this really all right? I mean, Mount Hua is still a Daoist sect, and in a Daoist sect..."
"Does a Daoist live without eating?"
"Pardon?"
Hyun Young answered flatly.
"If you bury yourself on a mountain and spend your days cultivating the Dao, no money is just going to fall from the sky. From now on, you’re the one who has to feed a bunch of useless mouths that can do nothing but swing swords. If you start picking and choosing between easy work, noble work, and the work you feel like doing, before long you’ll be chewing on tree bark to survive."
"......"
There was a bitter truth in those words, drawn straight from experience.
"Money is money, no matter how you earn it! As long as you aren’t hurting people or doing anything illegal, it’s better to make every last coin you can!"
Baek Sang broke out in a cold sweat as he looked at Hyun Young’s fierce eyes.
The Elder seems a lot more changed than I thought.
No doubt it’s because of that guy.
"So you’re saying even the Dao needs money before it can be cultivated."
"Of course. Why do you think Shaolin is the greatest sect under heaven?"
"Because of its martial arts..."
"Because it’s rich!"
"......"
Hyun Young said it with bloodshot eyes.
"Other places have to send experts out as escorts or take on requests just to earn a little money, right? But Shaolin just has to keep its gates open, and money piles up in the donation boxes. That means they can train without worrying about a thing! Of course they’re strong! Damn it, I’m so jealous I could die!"
"......"
"So we have to earn money! Remember that! How much money you bring in determines how much stronger Mount Hua can become! Don’t ever think your job is something small or easy!"
"I-I’ll keep that in mind!"
Overwhelmed by the force of his words, Baek Sang nodded before he quite knew it, and thought that the Finance Hall might be a little different from what he had imagined.
Just then—
Whoosh!
Thump!
A thick bundle of paper came flying in from somewhere and landed on the stall.
"Huh?"
Wi Lip-san’s eyes widened to the point of tearing as he reflexively looked at what had arrived.
The paper was packed with numbers and stamped with a large seal.
A-a receipt?
And all of that was one bundle?
Then just how much is this worth?
Still too stunned to check, Wi Lip-san heard a familiar voice cut clearly through the noise.
"Ten thousand nyang on Baek Cheon of Mount Hua."
The surrounding area fell silent in an instant.
Every gaze turned at once toward the source of the voice.
Wi Lip-san cried out in surprise.
"Do-Daoist Chung Myung!"
Chung Myung walked out from the crowd with a grin on his face.
"I can place a bet, right?"
Wi Lip-san’s mind spun furiously.
"O-of course. But where in the world did you get that much money...?"
"I happen to have quite a lot of money."
At his brazen answer, Wi Lip-san’s mouth dropped open.
And he wasn’t the only one. The people crowding around the stall, and even Baek Sang watching from behind, were all shocked speechless.
"T-that crazy bastard!"
A Daoist betting?
No—well, of course it wasn’t like they could criticize that, not when Mount Hua was the one running a gambling den right now...
Still, we’re hiding behind the name of Hwayeong Gate and doing this.
And here he was, gambling while wearing robes embroidered with Mount Hua’s plum blossoms?
"That deranged lunatic! Elder, let me handle him—!"
"Hahahahaha. Ten thousand nyang? Do you know how much the commission on that is? As expected of our Chung Myung! He knows how to make the pot bigger. What a cute little rascal!"
"......"
Elder?
Has something been put on his eyes?
Cute little rascal?
"Sh-shouldn’t we stop him?"
"Why?"
"Why? Everyone can see..."
As Baek Sang hesitated, Hyun Young snorted.
"Shaolin’s running a gambling den, so why can’t a Daoist place a bet?"
"......"
"Besides, look over there."
"Hm?"
Baek Sang turned to where Hyun Young was pointing.
People had crowded around the betting stall and were shouting at the sight of the receipt bundle.
"I-is that real?"
"Pardon?"
"I’m asking if that’s really an authentic receipt!"
Before Wi Lip-san could answer, someone suddenly shoved forward, snatched up the bundle, and started checking it before anyone could stop him.
"T-this is a receipt from Continental Exchange! It’s real, I tell you!"
"And who are you?"
"I make my living in the exchange business! I work for Northern Huabei Exchange!"
"Oh, now that you mention it, I think I’ve seen that guy at Northern Huabei Exchange before!"
That brief exchange settled everything.
Once it was confirmed that the ten-thousand-nyang receipt placed on Baek Cheon was genuine, everyone’s eyes began to blaze madly. It was like full-blown mania.
Ten thousand nyang!
The scale of the betting immediately multiplied several times over. The gamblers, already calculating the amount they could win if their side prevailed, had their eyes turn wild.
Ten thousand nyang on Baek Cheon of Mount Hua?
His opponent is Jong Seo-han of the Southern Edge Sect! Baek Cheon’s more famous, sure, but Jong Seo-han isn’t some nobody either. You can’t say Baek Cheon’s guaranteed to win.
The Southern Edge Sect is still one of the sects competing for the title of greatest sword sect under heaven. It’s possible.
At last, the crowd erupted.
Even those who had been merely watching from the sidelines foamed at the mouth and rushed toward the stall. Those who had already placed bets came back with even more money in hand.
"Aaaah! Shut up and take my money!"
"One hundred nyang! Another hundred!"
"What the hell is the multiplier on this? Check it right now!"
Hyun Young watched the scene with a deeply satisfied smile.
Yes, yes. Pour it all in already.
The larger the pool, the bigger the commission. If things went well, today’s business might earn enough to cover several months of Mount Hua’s operating expenses.
"That’s how you grow the pot. If you ever want to lead the Finance Hall, you’d better watch carefully and learn from what Chung Myung is doing."
"......"
Baek Sang was once again reminded why Hyun Young doted on Chung Myung so much.
In the meantime, the betting pool began to be brought under control. The match was about to start.
"Th-that’s all we can take!"
"Please, take my money too!"
"Why stop here?"
"We have to stop before the match starts! There’s always the next round, so please understand this time!"
"It hasn’t even started yet!"
"What, this man’s only gambled once or twice? You’ve got to take it until the swords come out!"
"Take just this! Come on, just this!"
Wi Lip-san wiped the sweat from his brow and stole a careful glance at Chung Myung. When Chung Myung smiled benevolently and nodded, Wi Lip-san nodded back as well.
"Then we’ll only take bets from the people here!"
One more round of chaos rolled through the crowd, and somehow the betting pool was finally sorted out.
Wiping his brow, Wi Lip-san went up to Chung Myung and whispered, "Thanks to you, the pool grew huge. Thank you."
Chung Myung casually turned his head. By now, Hyun Young was watching him with obvious satisfaction.
Chung Myung grinned.
"No need to thank me. We’re all just helping each other out."
Hwayeong Gate was the one operating the stall, but in truth it was Mount Hua that had set the whole thing in motion. Mount Hua would take its commission and split the rest with Shaolin. The larger the pool, the more money Mount Hua would earn.
No wonder Hyun Young was so pleased.
"But Daoist Chung Myung, are you really sure about this? If you lose, all that money goes down the drain, doesn’t it?"
"Lose?"
Chung Myung gave a snort of laughter.
"My martial uncle Baek Cheon?"
"Of course I’m not looking down on Baek Cheon. But a contest is a contest—you never know the result until it’s over."
"That’s true. When the two sides are about the same."
"......Pardon?"
"Just because a tiger has a cold and is dripping snot doesn’t mean it loses to a rabbit."
"It’s that much...?"
"And besides, even if he does lose, it’s fine. I’ll just sell off my martial uncle to recover my money!"
Wi Lip-san shook his head as he looked at the gleam in Chung Myung’s eyes.
"But where in the world did you get all that money? Don’t tell me...?"
"Ah. I was rich to begin with."
"......Pardon?"
To be precise, the senior martial brother of the sect leader had been the rich one.
But so what? He wasn’t the kind of petty person who’d have a problem with this earnest junior disciple spending a little money, was he? Our senior martial brother!
Right, senior martial brother?
...I’ll deal with you later.
See? He’s happy about it.
Chung Myung snickered and looked toward the ring.
"All right. Now it’s time for my martial uncle to earn me some money."
Up on the platform, Jong Seo-han glared at Baek Cheon and snarled, "I’ll twist that mouth of yours right off. Don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because you’re the senior brother’s younger brother."
At that absurd claim, Baek Cheon let out a dry laugh.
Go easy on him because of whose younger brother?
"You were together with him for so long, and you still don’t understand my brother."
"...What did you say?"
"That man isn’t someone who goes easy on people just because they’re connected by blood. If anything, blood gives him even more reason to be merciless."
That was Jin Geum-ryong.
Of course, that didn’t make him wrong. It simply meant he wasn’t suited to Baek Cheon.
My family is Mount Hua.
Baek Cheon lowered his gaze and looked at Jong Seo-han. Then he said quietly, "Enough talk. Swordsmen prove themselves with their swords."
Jong Seo-han shut his mouth tightly.
He couldn’t agree with Baek Cheon as a person, but he had no choice but to agree with that. He was a swordsman too.
Jong Seo-han flicked his sword lightly and took his starting stance.
When Baek Cheon saw the path of that blade, he gripped his sword hilt tightly.
The Snow Flower Twelve Sword?
He had already seen it several times.
The sword technique Jin Geum-ryong, and the Southern Edge Sect’s second-generation disciples, had used to crush Mount Hua’s Baek generation.
And it was also the sword art Chung Myung completely wrecked.
Even so, he couldn’t dismiss it. He wasn’t Chung Myung.
Baek Cheon took a low breath.
Three years ago, he had been completely unable to resist the Snow Flower Twelve Sword Jin Geum-ryong had unleashed, and had suffered a one-sided defeat.
No—calling it a defeat was almost too kind. More accurately, he had been one-sidedly and thoroughly beaten to a pulp.
So now he had to prove it.
How much stronger Mount Hua had become.
And how much stronger I’ve become!
By surpassing that Snow Flower Twelve Sword!
"Taaaat!"
With a shout, Jong Seo-han charged forward, and at the tip of his sword, pure white flowerbuds began to bloom and sway.
Indeed.
It wasn’t a fully unfolded sword art, but the difference was obvious.
The flower blooming from Jong Seo-han’s sword was far more vivid and sharper than the one Jin Geum-ryong had once shown.
The softly unfurling white petals rushed toward Baek Cheon with the wind.
It was dazzlingly beautiful.
It was a sword technique so breathtakingly lovely it could blind the eye. In the past, he would have been helpless in the face of it, dazzled into stillness.
But now...
...What is this?
Baek Cheon frowned before he realized it.
It was splendid and beautiful. What he saw was a sequence of sword moves so sharp it raised gooseflesh.
And yet, he felt an inexplicable emptiness from Jong Seo-han’s sword.
Red sword energy burst up instantly from Baek Cheon’s blade.
Swishhhhh!
As Baek Cheon casually swung his sword, there was a sound like silk being torn, and the petals flying toward him were ripped to shreds at once.
"Th-this is...!"
Jong Seo-han, already charging forward, was so shocked that he recoiled a step without meaning to.
Baek Cheon looked at him with a severe expression and shook his head.
"It’s hollow."
"Y-you bastard?"
"Now I understand what Chung Myung meant. People focus on the beautiful blossom of the plum, but what makes the plum blossom bloom is the sturdy roots that dig deep into the earth."
Mount Hua had endured grueling, relentless training to build those roots. And that process would continue, still and always.
Not for the sake of visible brilliance, but for the weight that supported that brilliance.
Southern Edge was not like that.
They merely decorated the blossoms that bloomed, making them brighter and prettier.
And in doing so, they didn’t even realize that the tree itself was withering to nothing.
— Southern Edge is finished.
That terrifying bastard.
At last, Baek Cheon understood what Chung Myung had meant with that short remark, and slowly let the tension leave his shoulders.
Then he put more strength into the lower body that was planted firmly against the ground, so as never to make the same mistake as those men.
"I’ll show you."
"......"
"I don’t know if you’ll understand just by looking, though."
Baek Cheon’s sword slowly slashed through the air.
Mount Hua’s plum blossoms bloom, fall, and bloom again.
The reason plum blossoms can fall and then bloom again is because the plum tree exists.
What they should pursue is not the flower that dazzles the eye, but the tree that makes that flower bloom.
Life itself.
Red petals bloomed from the tip of Baek Cheon’s sword as it pointed at Jong Seo-han.
One blossom. Then another.
The petals that bloomed without pause spread and spread again, until the entire arena was filled with red plum blossoms.
Overwhelming, scarlet sword energy surged in waves.
T-this is?
Jong Seo-han’s eyes flew wide open.
It was similar.
Undeniably similar to the sword art he had unleashed, the Snow Flower Twelve Sword.
But it was different.
He couldn’t have put it into words, but something was clearly different. There was something in that sword that did not exist in his own.
What exactly is different?
Jong Seo-han clenched his teeth and lashed out with his sword.
The white petals blooming from the tip of his blade collided with the red plum blossoms closing in on him.
But his white flowers could not withstand Mount Hua’s plum blossoms.
The white petals that struck the plum blossoms melted away like snow exposed to a warm spring sun.
"N-no way! Damn it!"
Jong Seo-han seized his sword and let out a feral scream, then threw himself into the forest of plum blossoms.