Mount Hua Walks Its Own Path (5)
“A rumor travels a thousand miles without feet.”
Rumors were things no human strength could hold back. The news that the Heavenly Martial Alliance Tournament had ended with Shaolin taking the championship spread across the world in an instant.
Those who heard it first all nodded with conviction.
“Of course it was Shaolin! I knew it.”
But once they heard the rest of the story, they could only tilt their heads in confusion.
“Huh? You’re saying Mount Hua might as well have won? What’s that supposed to mean?”
And when they finally learned the full truth, every one of them gaped in stunned disbelief.
“What? They tossed away the championship with their own hands?”
It was a story too absurd to believe.
“Good heavens, Shaolin got utterly humiliated.”
“Just what kind of man is this Mount Hua Divine Dragon that he could pull something like that off?”
“Hah… Shaolin. Shaolin…”
People loved rumors.
What they loved even more were scandals—especially the kind where some high-and-mighty figure got made a fool of.
The rumor that Shaolin, which had stood for centuries as the towering mountain and northern pillar of the righteous world, had been disgraced, was spreading through the realm at a speed unlike any rumor before it.
And in the process, Mount Hua’s name was naturally being mentioned over and over again.
“But Mount Hua, huh. At any rate, doesn’t that mean Mount Hua reached the finals?”
“That’s not all. They say Mount Hua had the best overall showing in this tournament. If you’re only counting the younger generation, isn’t there no sect that can surpass Mount Hua?”
“Heh heh. This is the first time I’ve ever heard the name Mount Hua, and yet it was such a powerful sect?”
“In the past, Mount Hua was one of the Nine Great Sects. It was Hai Nan that took its place, after all. In any case, now that Mount Hua is reclaiming its former glory, there will be many interesting things ahead.”
“Wait! Wait! I can’t be the only one who knows this! I have to spread the word too!”
“Hey! Don’t run like that, you’ll get hurt!”
Those who heard the rumor rushed about to tell others what they’d learned. Thanks to that, the story of Mount Hua spread across the world with even more embellishment than before.
And Mount Hua Sect, the subject of that rumor, left the uncomfortable Shaolin Temple and was supposed to head for Shaanxi as quickly as possible…
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
“…they should have.”
At the sight before him, Hyun Sang’s beard trembled violently.
Is this really all right?
Of course, it wasn’t an ugly sight.
They hadn’t won the championship, but taking second place in the Heavenly Martial Alliance Tournament was still no small celebration. Had they ever dared hope for such a result when they first entered the competition?
Besides, that runner-up title was, in practical terms, little different from spitting out a sweet fruit they had nearly swallowed whole. If anything, it might have been a more valuable second place than first.
So…
I can understand the meat and the food.
Hyun Young cherished his disciples.
His tone might be a little sharp, but no one in Mount Hua doubted that he truly cared for them. So, of course, he would want to treat the exhausted disciples to something delicious.
That much was understandable. But…
“Um… Sect Leader.”
“Hmm?”
Hyun Jong, who was beside him, turned his head slightly. Hyun Sang spoke in a voice he tried hard to keep calm.
“I certainly think… a celebration banquet is perfectly appropriate.”
“Indeed.”
“And of course, a banquet can’t do without food.”
“So why the hesitation?”
“But…”
Hyun Sang opened his mouth, his voice quivering.
“But this is Shaolin, is it not? Is this really all right?”
Hyun Sang’s eyes were looking at a veritable feast of wine and meat.
He could understand the disciples greedily tearing into chunks of meat. They had done their best to sneak meat in all this time, but there had been limits to even that.
In any case, once they left here, there would be no reason to return to Shaolin, so they might as well eat meat now. Still…
A bonfire had been lit outside the hall, and above it sat a whole roasted pig.
…Isn’t this going too far?
Eating meat inside a temple already felt like a violation of human decency, but a whole roast pig? That seemed to cross not just Buddhist propriety, but a line a Daoist shouldn’t cross either…
No, well. Even that much I can let slide.
Meat was meat. What difference did it make whether they ate it already roasted or roasted it here and ate it now?
The problem was…
“Krrr! Have a drink, Martial Brother!”
“Good! Good! You have one too!”
“Jol! You worked hard getting all the way to Palgang!”
“Hehehehe! I’ll pour for you, Martial Uncle!”
Glug, glug, glug, glug.
“…….”
Glug, glug, glug, glug.
“Kaaah! This kills me!”
“How long has it been since we drank this much! Krrr!”
Hyun Sang’s beard trembled again.
Can this really be all right?
To be so openly drinking and eating meat inside the sacred grounds of Shaolin…
Wasn’t there supposed to be some standard for all things in the world?
A whole roast pig and hard liquor? Even if this is a mountain, this is Songshan.
Anyone who saw this would point at them and ask when the bandits had decided to set up shop on Songshan.
Feeling his insides twist, Hyun Sang carefully tried to persuade Hyun Jong.
“Sect Leader, I think this may be a bit…”
But before he could finish, Hyun Young cut in.
“Again. What old-fashioned nonsense are you trying to start now?”
“……”
“I’m just trying to feed the kids after all they’ve been through!”
“No, I mean… it’s not that the kids didn’t suffer…”
“Surely you’re not thinking of preserving Shaolin’s face at this point, are you? As if those bastards would be grateful for that.”
“Grrr…”
Hyun Sang knew it too.
If he thought about the things Chung Myung had done at the tournament, then Mount Hua and Shaolin were already a relationship beyond repair. Adding or removing one drinking party from that fact would change nothing.
Even so, seeing Hyun Sang look so troubled, Hyun Jong smiled faintly.
“Would it not be all right?”
“……Sect Leader.”
“Those children truly did their best. But that also means they endured the tournament without even having time to shake off the exhaustion built up from all the long training they had already gone through beforehand.”
Hyun Sang nodded.
Competing in a tournament was far harder than it looked. Even Hyun Sang, who hadn’t personally fought a single bout, felt as if his own body were melting from the deep fatigue; how much worse must it have been for those children?
“The road to Shaanxi is not short, is it? Before they leave, I want to let the children relax a little, even if only for a moment. Please, understand.”
“I was being short-sighted.”
When Hyun Sang bowed his head, Hyun Jong smiled and patted his shoulder.
“I know. A sect needs people like you who will speak plainly. But today, let us set such things aside.”
“Yes, Sect Leader.”
“Look. Why should propriety matter so much when you can see the children enjoying themselves like that?”
“That’s…”
With a slightly softened expression, Hyun Sang looked around.
He saw Chung Myung with a liquor bottle jammed straight into his mouth, his head tilted back as far as it could go.
“……”
Glug, glug, glug, glug, glug.
The liquor went down his throat in a flash. Chung Myung pulled the empty bottle from his mouth and immediately shoved another one in without hesitation.
Glug, glug, glug, glug.
“……”
Wouldn’t he die doing that?
“Chung Myung seems to be in very good spirits.”
Excuse me?
He looks like a complete sot to me.
Sect Leader?
“Hahaha. Heroes naturally enjoy their liquor.”
Huh?
Hero?
That thing?
Unable to fully agree with Hyun Young, Hyun Sang glanced at Chung Myung again. Normally, there should have been someone beside him nagging at him nonstop. There should have been—certainly should have been—but…
“Eheheheheheh!”
“……”
Unfortunately, today seemed to be the exception. Yoon Jong and Jo Gul, who would normally be the ones stopping Chung Myung, were instead stirring the pot even more and drinking themselves silly.
Yoon Jong too…?
Of all the disciples in Mount Hua, the one who strove most to uphold the duties of a Daoist was Yoon Jong, no matter what anyone said. As a martial artist, Baek Cheon might be held in higher regard, but as a Daoist who would carry Mount Hua’s Way forward, Yoon Jong was the more fitting vessel.
The usual Yoon Jong would have exercised moderation while the others drank, keeping an eye on everyone around him. But today, Yoon Jong had loosened his belt and was pouring liquor as if his life depended on it.
Jo Gul, naturally, was twice as excited as that and kept tossing back drink after drink…
“Hm?”
Yu I-seol had fallen asleep in a corner with her head buried in the table. And Dang Soso was grabbing hold of the sleeping girl and chattering nonsense the entire time.
“Heh heh…”
The only one who still seemed to have his senses was Baek Cheon, but even he didn’t look entirely sober. His face was flushed a deep red as he busily accepted cup after cup from his martial siblings.
“Heh… heh heh.”
At a loss for words before the complete mess, Hyun Sang let out a dry laugh. Then Hyun Jong spoke quietly.
“They must have all been very burdened.”
“Well…”
“How could those children not know that Mount Hua’s restoration rested on their shoulders?”
Hyun Sang fell silent.
Hyun Jong’s voice was a little bitter.
“All of them have only now, at last, set down a burden they had been carrying. That is why they can laugh and talk so freely. Only now. Only now.”
Hyun Jong looked at his disciples with a pained expression.
The thought that the children had suffered because those above them had failed to shoulder the burden properly made his heart deeply uneasy.
Then someone interrupted his thoughts.
“Sect Leader, you shouldn’t burden yourself alone too deeply either.”
“Hm?”
It was Hyun Young. He shook his head and said,
“Burdens are pain when you carry them, but once you set them down, they become something you can take pride in. If the children hadn’t truly borne heavy things, could they be that happy now?”
“Hmm.”
“Of course, we are guilty toward the children. But don’t call them pitiable because of that. That would only be insulting them. Aren’t they the proud children who achieved the best result in the Heavenly Martial Alliance Tournament?”
Hyun Jong nodded slowly.
“Yes. You’re right.”
He was proud.
More than proud.
Hyun Jong quietly wiped at the corners of his eyes. Watching those admirable youngsters made his eyes keep stinging for some reason.
Those admirable…
“Eheheheheheheh!”
At that moment, Chung Myung sprang to his feet and jammed the mouth of a gourd straight into Baek Sang’s mouth.
“Mmph! Mmph-mmph!”
“Drink! Drink! We’re eating and drinking until we drop today!”
“Mmmph!”
Baek Sang struggled in protest, but Chung Myung simply poured the liquor into his mouth with a cackling laugh, then went off hunting for his next victim.
And at last, one person fell into Chung Myung’s net.
“Martial Uncle?”
“……”
“Dongryong?”
“……”
Already bright red from liquor, Baek Cheon stared at Chung Myung with trembling eyes.
“N-no, wait. If I drink any more, I’ll di—”
But before he could finish, Chung Myung shoved a bottle into his mouth.
“It’s fine, it’s fine. You won’t die. You’re not dying that easily.”
“Grrrgh.”
Baek Cheon toppled backward, the bottle still jammed in his mouth.
In that instant, as if his senses had suddenly returned, Yu I-seol lifted her head and stared blankly at Chung Myung.
“Old man.”
Thud.
Then she buried her head back in the table and fell asleep as if dead.
This is a total wreck.
Hyun Sang smiled faintly.
How could anyone call this a banquet held by a Daoist sect? Even the Grand Pure One, who was said to have enjoyed his wine, would turn away if he saw this.
Even if the Sect Leader says something, we should probably keep it under control before it goes too far…
And then it happened.
Chung Myung, his face flushed red, was looking around when he suddenly froze.
“……”
“Heh heh. Sect Leader?”
“……”
“Elder?”
The devil—no, Chung Myung—began creeping over with a liquor bottle in each hand. The moment that bright smile spread across his face, Hyun Sang found himself squeezing his eyes shut without even meaning to.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
“Amitabha.”
A monk stood before a hall and softly intoned the Buddha’s name.
After hesitating for a few moments, he let out a deep sigh and knocked on the door with a heavy hand.
“Are you there?”
His voice was quiet.
Perhaps that was why there was no reply.
He sighed again, a little louder this time, and knocked more firmly.
“Are you there!”
But once again, no answer came back.
“Hm?”
The monk—Beop Gye—tilted his head and listened closely toward the inside.
Have they already left?
No, that couldn’t be right. He could clearly feel people’s presence in there.
After a moment’s thought, he gently pushed the door open. The latch must not have been locked, because the door gave a creak and slowly began to swing inward.
“Amitabha. I am Beop Gye of Shaolin. Is the Sect Leader presen—what, what is this?”
The moment Beop Gye peeked inside, he recoiled in horror.
Did a war break out in here?
The large hall was complete chaos. On the tables gathered in the center lay a battlefield of scattered dishes and empty liquor bottles, and on the floor were Mount Hua disciples sprawled as though they had just been raided.
Th-this wasn’t a real attack, was it?
Fortunately, judging by the rise and fall of their chests, they didn’t seem to be dead.
“T-this…?”
For a moment, Beop Gye stood dazedly taking in the scene, then his eyes flew wide open.
Only then did the situation inside become clear in a single glance.
“Liquor? And… meat?”
Come to think of it, was that thing left in the yard not the bones of a pig?
Beop Gye spotted the traces of a bonfire left in the courtyard and grabbed the back of his neck.
“J-just what kind of sect is this…!”
There was being brazen, and then there was this. What on earth were they thinking?
His face burning red, he was just about to shout in outrage when he quickly clamped a hand over his mouth.
—Do not, under any circumstances, collide with them. Absolutely not!
He barely managed to recall what Beop Jeong had told him before coming here.
For now, he decided, he should wake someone up first. Letting out a long sigh, he prepared to do just that.
Then—
Peeking up.
One of the bodies sprawled on the floor lifted its head slightly. Then it narrowed its eyes.
Is it in a bad mood?
But the fellow soon began rubbing his eyes furiously with his sleeve, as though he hadn’t fully woken up yet and couldn’t see properly.
So he drank a little, and now a martial artist can’t see because of a hangover?
What was the point of holding onto inner power if not to save it for something useful?
What made Beop Gye even more exasperated was that the one rubbing his eyes was that Chung Myung. The bastard who had beaten Hye Yeon senseless was in such a state?
Still half-lounging, Chung Myung tilted his head and asked in a hoarse voice,
“Uh…”
“……”
“Who’re you?”
Another sigh spilled from Beop Gye’s mouth.
“This monk is Beop Gye. Is the Sect Leader here?”
“Uh… the Sect Leader, that is…”
Chung Myung swung his head around for a moment, then reached out and pointed off to one side.
“He’s over there.”
“Hm?”
Following the direction of that finger, Beop Gye turned—and froze solid on the spot.
Hyun Jong, with his hair in disarray and his Daoist cap askew, was draped over the railing of the steps.
“……”
“Should I wake him?”
“……No. I’ll wait.”
“Yes, please do.”
Beop Gye kept reciting the Buddha’s name over and over in his heart.
Amitabha.
And to think they had lost to these people.
What on earth had become of Shaolin?
“Amitabha!”
Beop Gye’s mouth spilled out an irritated chant. At that moment, Chung Myung yawned languidly and asked,
“By the way… why are you here to see the Sect Leader?”
Beop Gye exhaled a long sigh before answering.
“I came to deliver the abbot’s words.”
Chung Myung’s eyes narrowed slightly.