That’s Something We’ll Have to Wait and See (2)
Chung Myung said dismissively, “That sounds nice and all, but if you strip it down, you’re just telling Mount Hua to bow its head to Shaolin and come crawling in. And in return, you’ll toss us the title of Gupailbang. That’s what this is, right?”
“……”
Beop Jeong’s expression stiffened by a hair.
It was such a brazen thing to say that even he, a man who rarely let his inner thoughts show, couldn’t fully hide his surprise.
Leaving everything else aside, it was not the kind of thing a third-generation disciple of one sect should dare to say in front of the sect leaders.
“Shaolin hasn’t changed at all,” Chung Myung said.
“……What do you mean by that?”
At Beop Jeong’s question, Chung Myung only snorted instead of answering.
Harmony? A title?
Fine, whatever.
He knew perfectly well that Shaolin probably hadn’t meant anything so openly rotten by it. But that was precisely the problem.
These bastards actually think they’re the ones who naturally get to lead the world.
That was the arrogance Shaolin wore simply because it was Shaolin.
“If you’re done, get lost.”
Beop Jeong’s face hardened.
“Amitabha. Since we came as guests, I intended to be patient, but those are not words a mere third-generation disciple is allowed to say. This monk is currently in discussion with your sect leader—”
“That’s not correct.”
It was Hyun Jong who cut him off.
Beop Jeong looked at him, slightly startled. Hyun Jong was smiling with a face unlike any he had shown before.
“Anyone of Mount Hua’s ranks may represent Mount Hua. That child’s will is my will, and it is also Mount Hua’s will.”
“……Sect Leader.”
Beop Jeong fell silent for a moment, at a loss for words. Then Chung Myung spoke in a cold voice.
“Shaolin has always led the world, hasn’t it? Fifty years ago. And a hundred years ago, too.”
At the mention of a hundred years ago, Beop Jeong’s face turned icy.
“So what did Shaolin do when Mount Hua was collapsing and falling apart? That same Shaolin that said it was grateful for Mount Hua’s spirit a hundred years ago?”
“……Amitabha.”
“Go back.”
A heavy pressure began to roll off Chung Myung’s body.
“Only those who fulfill their own duties and show sincerity are qualified to speak of harmony. Shaolin doesn’t have that qualification.”
“Young Daoist!”
“What your Abbot is trying to protect isn’t harmony in the world. It’s a peaceful Jianghu where Shaolin’s position never wobbles. Well, I’m not saying that’s wrong. If he’s the Abbot of Shaolin, of course he should act that way. But.”
A chill gleamed in Chung Myung’s eyes.
“I’m not interested in harmony that only exists in words. I don’t need any more experience being used however others please, then tossed aside like an old shoe.”
Beop Jeong’s expression vanished as he looked at Chung Myung.
“So Mount Hua won’t think of the world at all?”
“Yeah.”
“……What in the world……”
“What did the world ever do for Mount Hua, which sacrificed everything for it?”
“……”
“I guess you thought that if you threw us a decent title now, we’d come running back like obedient dogs. Sorry, but that was a bit too innocent of you.”
“Do you know what happens to challengers who fail to rise to the Gupailbang?”
“They get attacked.”
Chung Myung snorted.
“And so what? When Mount Hua was getting beaten to a pulp by Zhongnan, did even one sect step up to stop it?”
“That was—”
“Listen carefully.”
Then, with a chilling set to the corners of his mouth, he snapped, “When Mount Hua fell, the Nine Sects did nothing to help. When Mount Hua clawed its way back to strength, the Nine Sects didn’t lift a finger. So when Mount Hua rises again and soars over the world, we won’t need the Nine Sects’ help either.”
“……”
“If you think Mount Hua will be tempted by that moldy old name, Gupailbang, then let me correct you. Mount Hua is just Mount Hua. That alone is enough.”
His cold, clear eyes pressed down on Beop Jeong.
These dogshit bastards.
He had heard lines like that countless times.
“Because Mount Hua exists, Jianghu still stands.”
“Because of Mount Hua, countless lives were saved.”
Spirit.
Yes, spirit.
That wretched spirit was exactly what had left Mount Hua in such a state.
While his martial brothers and junior disciples died one after another at the summit of the Hundred Thousand Great Mountains, these bastards preserved their own strength and left behind hope for the future.
One hundred years later, Shaolin was still Shaolin, and the Nine Sects were still the Nine Sects, but Mount Hua alone had fallen so far it nearly vanished without even leaving its name behind.
And now what?
Harmony?
Chung Myung’s hand trembled.
If it were up to him, he would rush at Beop Jeong this instant and tear that precious mouth apart.
Even after a hundred years, these people still believed they could handle Mount Hua however they pleased.
Back then, they had known and still endured it.
Because if no one stepped forward to lead, Jianghu really would have been on the verge of ruin.
Even if the sacrifice was enormous, even if the aftereffects were devastating, it was still a hundred times better than letting Jianghu fall under the Demonic Sect.
—I don’t expect to be thanked. I’m only doing what must be done, Chung Myung. Of course profit matters, too. But if you let profit blind you and ignore what must be done, can you still hold your head up before your disciples?
My martial brother was wrong.
And as the price, Mount Hua’s sages truly could no longer lift their heads before their disciples.
While the ones who had committed that hypocrisy were still living comfortably and loudly.
Karma and retribution?
The net of heaven may be vast, but it lets nothing escape?
Nonsense.
Heaven does nothing to help. It is people who must create karma and retribution; it is people who must punish the guilty.
Chung Myung did not wait for karma.
If there was someone who had wronged Mount Hua, he would punish them himself. If there was someone who had shown Mount Hua grace, he would repay it himself.
If heaven would not do it, then he would do it with his own hands.
That was how Chung Myung protected Mount Hua.
“Young Daoist, do you understand what consequences your words might bring?”
“Is that a threat?”
Beop Jeong let out a deep sigh. His face looked tired for an instant.
“This is not how you treat someone who came with goodwill.”
“Goodwill?”
Chung Myung snorted.
“Abbot.”
“……”
Chung Myung’s voice growled like a wounded wolf.
“If you wanted to speak of even the bare minimum of goodwill, then you should have apologized instead of offering a proposal.”
“……”
“Sure, you can feel wronged. It wasn’t the Abbot who directly committed the mistake. But if you’re going to feel aggrieved about that, then you should also give up whatever benefits you’re enjoying now in Shaolin’s name. You get to enjoy the glory won from Shaolin’s deeds while pretending you have nothing to do with the wrongdoing—that’s really Shaolin’s way?”
Beop Jeong’s beard twitched.
It wasn’t something he had never considered.
But he had thought Chung Myung would not bring it up. Pointing out another’s faults was something only the powerful could do. He had assumed Mount Hua still lacked the strength to cross swords with Shaolin and stand against it.
But this young Daoist bared his teeth at him. And those teeth were frighteningly sharp.
“Go back.”
“……”
“Mount Hua has no intention of joining the order Shaolin is trying to reshape. Mount Hua will establish its own order.”
“Mount Hua doesn’t have the strength for that.”
“That’s something we’ll have to see.”
Chung Myung’s expression returned to its usual bored, indifferent look. He glanced at Hye Yeon, who sat beside Beop Jeong, and said, “And tomorrow will be where we prove it.”
Beop Jeong’s face, which had been trembling with restrained anger, flushed faintly. He snapped his head toward Hyun Jong.
“Sect Leader, are this child’s insolent words truly Mount Hua’s position?”
Hyun Jong smiled as though the question were rather difficult for him.
“Would that even be possible? They are immature, emotional words, spoken without looking to the end of things.”
“Then—”
Just as Beop Jeong was about to speak again, Hyun Jong continued in a quiet voice.
“And yet, is there anything wrong in what this child said?”
“……”
That gentle, measured tone left Beop Jeong with nothing to say.
“Of course I would like to stop him. If all I had to do was bow once and pretend none of this ever happened, then there would be so much to gain—so why wouldn’t I want to do things the way the Abbot wishes?”
Hyun Jong smiled softly.
“But, Abbot. You are the head of Shaolin, and I am likewise the head of Mount Hua. As Mount Hua’s sect leader, how could I tell a young disciple to suppress what is right and choose profit instead?”
“……”
“Mount Hua is simply Mount Hua. Whether it enters the Gupailbang or not, it remains Mount Hua. What does some title matter so much? Mount Hua will only walk Mount Hua’s path.”
Beop Jeong closed his trembling eyes tightly.
He could not speak with them.
I never expected them to be this infuriating.
He had thought at the very least they understood pragmatism, understood the grand picture. Instead, they were clinging to some petty old grievance and kicking away the hand Shaolin had extended.
“……I understand the Sect Leader’s intent well.”
Beop Jeong stood without lingering any longer. Hye Yeon, who had been quietly listening to the entire exchange, also rose after him.
Beop Jeong turned sharply and said, “There’s no need to see us out. We’ll have another chance to speak after the finals are over.”
“Abbot.”
“Then.”
And he left the room without another word.
But unlike Beop Jeong, Hye Yeon did not move. He only stood there, staring at Chung Myung.
Chung Myung lifted his head and met that gaze.
“What?”
“……Layman.”
At last, Hye Yeon spoke in his soft, careful manner, but his gaze was rather cold.
“I will not say that the layman is wrong. Everyone has their own intent, and each intent may be discussed. However.”
Hye Yeon folded his hands and bowed slightly.
“In conveying one’s intent, courtesy and consideration are necessary. And just now, the layman showed neither.”
“……So?”
“It is said that rudeness comes from arrogance. So tomorrow, I intend to press down on the layman’s arrogance a little.”
“Oh?”
Was that a challenge? A declaration that he was going to beat Chung Myung like a dog tomorrow?
Chung Myung stared at Hye Yeon.
The face that usually lowered itself shyly, unable to meet anyone’s eyes, now held a fury he could not hide. There was even unmistakable hostility in his gaze.
For Chung Myung, Mount Hua was everything. Likewise, for Hye Yeon, Shaolin must be a place of immense importance.
And now the precious Abbot of that Shaolin had been humiliated by a fresh-faced third-generation disciple from Mount Hua. It was easy enough to imagine what that sight had stirred in Hye Yeon.
Chung Myung snorted.
“Go ahead, then.”
“Amitabha!”
Hye Yeon chanted the Buddha’s name in a firm tone, then bit his lip lightly.
After that, he turned on his heel.
“You’d better come prepared.”
With those words, Hye Yeon was about to leave the room when Chung Myung called after him in a cold voice.
“Hey.”
Hye Yeon looked back.
“Remember that line.”
“Which line?”
“The one about pressing down my arrogance.”
“……”
“I’ll give you the exact same thing back.”
He left at last, his lips pressed tightly together.
The two men left alone in the room silently faced each other.
“……Hm.”
Chung Myung glanced at Hyun Jong, then scratched his head.
“Sect Leader, I—”
“It is fine.”
“No, it’s just that I got too heated.”
“Did I not say it is fine?”
Hyun Jong stopped Chung Myung, who was belatedly trying to apologize with an embarrassed face, and smiled warmly.
“Chung Myung.”
“Yes, Sect Leader.”
“When I watched Mount Hua fall into ruin, I felt one thing with painful clarity. Do you know what that was?”
“……I’m not sure.”
“That if you wish to uphold an ideal, you must have power. Spirit without strength carries no meaning.”
Chung Myung nodded silently.
Hyun Jong then asked him gravely, “Can you prove that power? Can you make our intent known to all under heaven, and see it through?”
Chung Myung’s lips curled in a grin.
“That’s my specialty.”
His face was utterly confident. Hyun Jong merely laughed quietly.
“Good. Then that is enough. Let us show them. Let us show the world that Mount Hua no longer needs anyone’s help.”
“Yes!”
Watching Chung Myung nod with such unwavering resolve, Hyun Jong gently closed his eyes.
Chung Myung.
Where did this child’s sorrow come from?
Where did this child’s rage come from?
The more he learned of him, the less he understood him.
Someday, you’ll tell me.
Someday would come when Chung Myung would speak of the sorrow he kept buried inside.
When that day came,
the deep fragrance of Mount Hua’s plum blossoms would surely fill the air.
Carrying a faint smile and a distant sorrow.
---