Why Is This Crawling Out Here? (4)
Beop Gye entered the abbot’s quarters with a face darkened by fury, and his gaze immediately went to Hyun Jong and Chung Myung, who were already disappearing into the distance.
“...Bangjang.”
At the strain in Beop Gye’s voice, as if he were barely holding back his resentment, Beop Jeong lifted his head a little and looked at him.
Beop Gye asked, “What do you intend to do?”
“What are you speaking of?”
“Mount Hua!”
Beop Jeong let out a faint sigh.
“For a monk, you are far too easily carried away by anger. You and I still have a long way to go.”
“But, Bangjang!”
“Lower your voice.”
At the stern rebuke, Beop Gye shut his mouth tight.
His anger kept rising inside him, yet he had no choice but to listen to the abbot. Partly because Beop Jeong was a monk, yes, but more than that, because he knew the most frustrated person in this whole matter was probably Beop Jeong himself.
“There is no need to be so angry.”
Beop Jeong smiled calmly and intoned the Buddha’s name.
“In the end, they will move exactly as we want them to.”
“...You think so?”
“They will have no choice.”
Beop Jeong gently stroked the Purple Jade Divine Sword laid out before him.
“A sacred treasure is not merely the symbol of a sect. It carries the history and spirit of that sect. Tell me—if another sect were holding Shaolin’s Green Jade Buddha Staff, what would you do?”
“One of those two sects would have to fall. There would be no other path.”
“Exactly.”
Beop Jeong nodded slowly.
“But didn’t they say something different?”
“Mount Hua now has staked everything on walking a path different from Shaolin’s.”
Beop Jeong’s voice lowered a little.
“So they had no choice but to put on a show. Especially Mount Hua—after the war with the Demonic Sect, they lost so much of their past. A sect cut off from its traditions always clings all the more desperately to them. They may speak boldly now, but by tomorrow they will come to me of their own accord.”
Beop Gye glanced toward the door for no good reason.
He did not doubt the abbot’s words. But he could not shake the strange unease gathering in his chest.
“And this is not a matter of satisfying Shaolin’s personal feelings. It is for the sake of the world alone. If those who call themselves righteous refuse to do what is needed for the world, how can they still be called righteous?”
Beop Jeong intoned the Buddha’s name again and took a sip of tea.
“Hyun Jong, Mount Hua’s sect leader, is not a man widely known, but I have heard he is both a gentleman and a true daoist. A man like that will not stand by while the world is thrown into chaos.”
“Will it really turn out that way?”
“When have I ever been wrong?”
Beop Gye hesitated before answering.
If this had been the past, he would have replied without a second thought.
But not now. Beop Jeong’s predictions about Mount Hua just kept failing to hold true.
Watching the lingering doubt on Beop Gye’s face, Beop Jeong smiled faintly.
Everyone makes mistakes.
What mattered was how one covered for them afterward.
It was true that Mount Hua had humiliated Shaolin badly. But if he could smooth this over properly and draw Mount Hua under Shaolin’s influence, that humiliation would cease to be humiliation at all.
And this was not merely a matter of face.
No matter what method they had used, the fact remained that Mount Hua had managed to melt the hearts of the Southern Barbarian Beast Palace.
That was something not only Shaolin, but no sect in the whole world, had ever done.
The trail of the Demonic Sect must never be lost.
To do that, he absolutely had to secure Mount Hua’s cooperation. Personal feelings could wait.
“A child who has lost his parents naturally misses them. Mount Hua is a sect that has lost too much. There is no way they can abandon the sacred treasure of Mount Hua, or the cherished sword of Great Mount Hua Sword that led Mount Hua to its greatest glory. Amitabha.”
“......”
“It would have been more certain if we could have recovered the yujin left behind by the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, but Great Mount Hua Sword also carries great meaning for Mount Hua. Just watch. They left here in high spirits, yes, but tonight they will not be able to sleep. By tomorrow morning, they will come here on their own.”
Seeing the relaxed confidence on Beop Jeong’s face, Beop Gye slowly nodded.
If Beop Jeong was that sure of himself, then this matter would end up following the course he had arranged after all.
It had to.
So then...
It should have.
The next morning.
“...They left?”
Beop Gye swore he had never seen that expression on Beop Jeong’s face before.
The always composed abbot was gaping blankly, his head tilted at an absurd angle as if his soul had been knocked clean out of him.
“...Yes.”
“N-no, what do you mean, they left? They left?”
Beop Gye shut his eyes tightly.
“When I went to check on them, the hall was already completely empty.”
“......”
Beop Jeong’s eyes shook as if an earthquake had struck inside them.
“N-no. Wait... wait. Amitabha. Amitabha!”
He seemed incapable of gathering his thoughts, so he kept chanting the Buddha’s name over and over. Then he asked,
“Where? Where did they go?”
“...Well, wouldn’t they have gone back to Mount Hua?”
“They just left like this, in this situation?”
Instead of answering, Beop Gye only stared at him with a dazed expression.
To be honest, this was the first time in his life he had seen the abbot ask such foolish questions one after another.
“The boy who was assigned to the hall said they left before the sun even rose.”
“......”
Beop Jeong’s head tilted even farther.
“They... left? No, that can’t be. Absolutely not. There’s no way they could do that. Just leave in this situation? In this situation?”
Beop Jeong sprang to his feet, truly looking shaken. Then he began pacing the room, chanting the Buddha’s name like a madman.
“Amitabha. Amitabha! Amitabha!”
Beop Gye watched him with a troubled look.
He’s kind of impressive in his own way.
Even while the ground seemed to be swaying beneath him, the way he struggled to keep his center—yes, he was still Shaolin’s abbot, after all...
“Amitabha. Amitabha! No! Damn it, Amitabha my ass! Amitabha my foot!”
“......”
No, not impressive.
Not at all.
Beop Jeong’s eyes flared with fire.
“No, what the hell are those Mount Hua lunatics thinking? If they just walk out of here, they’ll be making enemies of Shaolin, and the whole world will be thrown into misery! If they’re going to wash their hands of this, then who’s supposed to clean up the mess afterward?”
We are, of course.
What, you needed to ask?
Beop Gye swallowed the words threatening to burst from his mouth.
He had never done that in his life, but if he opened his mouth carelessly now, it felt like the abbot might grab the moktak on the tea table and crack his skull with it.
“No. Those insane Mount Hua bastards!”
“Please calm yourself, Bangjang. There are many ears listening.”
“And you think I’m in any state to calm down? Those hell-bound monsters! Mount Hua! Mount Hua Divine Dragon—Mount Hwa... ugh!”
“Bangjang! Get a hold of yourself! Bangjang!”
When Beop Jeong suddenly clutched the back of his neck and collapsed, Beop Gye rushed over in a panic.
Apparently, even strong martial arts could do nothing against blood pressure.
* * *
Baek Cheon frowned and turned his head. Then he cast his eyes back toward Songshan, which had already become much smaller in the distance.
“I think I just heard something.”
“Heard what?”
“Something like a scream...”
“Probably just the sound of an old raccoon falling flat on its face.”
“Huh?”
Baek Cheon turned back with a look that plainly asked what the hell that was supposed to mean, but Chung Myung only wore a glossy, satisfied smile.
The little bastards are treating Mount Hua like fools.
What?
The world?
That was their problem, not his.
Chung Myung no longer wanted Mount Hua’s disciples to be swallowed up by that meaningless thing called the world. He had already learned, painfully and thoroughly, that giving everything for the world brought nothing in return. Why the hell would he go out of his way to do good for those people?
“Hah. That feels good.”
Chung Myung lifted a gourd and chugged the liquor down in a long stream.
Watching him, Baek Cheon narrowed his eyes.
No. What in the world did he talk about with Shaolin’s abbot?
It was obvious something important had happened between them, but no matter how he pressed, Chung Myung refused to say what.
And Hyun Jong, who normally would have explained everything to the disciples with a smile...
Baek Cheon shot a sidelong glance toward Hyun Jong. He was trailing behind them at a slow, weary pace.
Hyun Jong, who should have been looking at them with warm, benevolent eyes, now looked more like... what was it...
Like someone who’d committed some terrible crime.
He kept glancing back toward Songshan with a frantic expression. Then, looking utterly lost, he muttered to himself over and over.
“I have to... recover it... recover it... The ancestors... if the ancestors find out about this... Amitabha. Amitabha! Oh, heavens, Amitabha!”
After a few more steps, Hyun Jong jolted again and turned back sharply. Then, as if seized by a fit, he suddenly started sprinting toward Songshan.
But he had not gone even a few paces before Hyun Young and Hyun Sang, who had been watching him, cut him off and dragged him back.
“Let go! Let go, you uncivilized brutes! Good heavens, do you know what kind of object that is?”
“Sect Leader. Let us go back to Mount Hua first and talk there.”
“Chung Myung expressly said we must not let the sect leader go to Shaolin. Please, follow us.”
“Oh dear... oh dear, no, that won’t do! Oh, you little devils. How am I supposed to face the ancestors if I die like this? Oooohhh!”
“......”
Watching the elders and sect leader make such a spectacle of themselves, Baek Cheon looked at Chung Myung with a strange expression.
“Chung Myung.”
“Hm?”
“Why is the sect leader acting like that?”
“How should I know? Probably because he left something important on Songshan.”
“Something important?”
“Heh heh heh. What important thing could there be? We already took all the important stuff.”
Chung Myung pointed ahead.
Rattle. Rattle. Rattle.
“......”
Behind Mount Hua’s disciples rolled four huge carts.
Each one was loaded to the brim with something, covered over by large cloths.
So all that is money, then?
To be exact, it was the money Mount Hua and Chung Myung had earned this time around.
What was even more chilling was that Mount Hua’s share filled only one cart—the remaining three were all Chung Myung’s earnings.
“Sasuk. This trip to Shaolin was pretty profitable.”
“...Indeed.”
“They say monks are generous, and look at them—handing everything over without a fight. Thanks for the meal. Heh heh heh.”
Baek Cheon squeezed his eyes shut.
You devil.
Shaolin’s one mistake had been this: they had dared to hold a martial arts tournament without realizing that Mount Hua was full of a bastard who would turn everything upside down.
And Shaolin would pay dearly for that mistake from this day on.
“In any case...”
Baek Cheon looked at Chung Myung with a more serious expression.
“You worked hard.”
“Hm?”
“This tournament would never have gone so well without you. You...”
“What are you on about?”
Chung Myung frowned.
“Don’t talk like a bunch of kids playing in a martial arts tournament accomplished something huge, Sasuk.”
“......”
Chung Myung’s reaction was as indifferent as ever.
“The martial arts of the Nine Great Sects are all orthodox, and the deeper they go, the stronger they become. A second-generation disciple doesn’t even qualify to represent the true strength of a sect. The real power of each sect lies in its elders and first-generation disciples. So...”
He shrugged.
“Even the Mount Hua Sect of Namgung, which did the worst in this tournament, is still stronger than Mount Hua. For now, anyway.”
Baek Cheon nodded quietly.
“Yes. That would be true.”
“There’s still a lot we need to do. We’ll have to grind ourselves to the bone. Then someday...”
As he spoke, Chung Myung lifted his head and looked into the distance. Then he murmured,
“Yeah. Someday.”
Baek Cheon did not bother asking what came after that.
He only smiled while looking at Chung Myung’s profile.
Yes.
Someday.
The day would come when Mount Hua stood proudly as the greatest sect in the world.
If it was with this wicked bastard beside them, then maybe even that was possible.
“Let’s go! Back to Mount Hua!”
“Yeah!”
The disciples of Mount Hua, having finished their long and exhausting mission, headed toward Shaanxi with the swagger of victors.