So What Am I Supposed to Do? (3)
“Bangjang!”
The Shaolin elder Beop Gye looked at Beop Jeong with a rigid expression.
“What is it?”
“...Shouldn’t we bring Hye Yeon back?”
Without a word, Beop Jeong lifted his teacup to his lips. The scent of grain wafting from the tea gently brushed his nose.
“Bring him back, hmm. Yes, that wouldn’t be bad.”
“How can you be so calm? Hye Yeon is a talent who should be leading Shaolin. And that child went not just into the mortal world, but all the way to that Mount Hua...!”
“And what exactly should we say when we go bring him back?”
“...Pardon?”
Beop Jeong smiled and looked at Beop Gye.
“Should we say that the path of Buddha does not exist where you are?”
“That is...”
Beop Gye fell silent as though he had lost his words. Beop Jeong spoke gently.
“Buddha is the law present everywhere in the world. Buddha is not found only in those rotting scriptures or in lofty Buddhist halls. Wherever people live, there is Buddha. Is that not Shaolin’s teaching?”
It was an argument with no opening to refute. After a low hum of thought, Beop Gye answered,
“...Yes.”
“Hye Yeon was taught by Shaolin. How, then, could Shaolin deny its own teaching?”
“...But, Bangjang.”
Beop Jeong shook his head.
“That would be attachment.”
“...”
Then, with a light clasp of his hands, he continued.
“Hye Yeon is not a child anyone can simply teach. The Venerable One attained self-sovereign independence without anyone’s instruction, and Bodhidharma created his own Buddhist law. If Hye Yeon is truly such a talent, then he will surely find his own Buddhist law there as well.”
“...In Mount Hua?”
“Yes. Mount Hua.”
Beop Jeong’s eyes glinted coldly.
“Do not look down on Mount Hua. In a short time, it achieved what no place under heaven had managed. Whatever feelings we may have toward them, we must acknowledge that Mount Hua is an excellent sect.”
Beop Gye let out a sigh and nodded.
“Do not worry so much. Mount Hua’s teachings will never harm Hye Yeon. Martial arts are, after all, something that cannot be attained without effort. Mount Hua’s uprightness will awaken many things in Hye Yeon.”
“I failed to understand the deeper intent of Bangjang’s words.”
“Hoho.”
Beop Jeong smiled faintly.
I do wonder.
What kind of shape Hye Yeon would return in after meeting and exchanging with Chung Myung.
At the thought, Beop Jeong already seemed bright with anticipation.
By now, they’re probably comparing their martial arts and pushing one another toward even greater heights.
There was no denying that Chung Myung was a fine martial artist as well.
“Amitabha.”
Beop Jeong quietly chanted the Buddha’s name.
Come back stronger.
Stronger.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
“Wahahahahahahaha! Drink! Drink!”
“Hwayeongmun is a huge success now! They said we got hundreds of new disciples today alone!”
“Look at all this money! Good heavens!”
Hye Yeon squeezed his eyes shut.
This is a den of demons.
Before his eyes, something he had never once imagined in his life was taking place.
The disciples of Mount Hua and the disciples of Hwayeongmun, regardless of rank or status, had all become a complete mess as they poured drink after drink.
What on earth is this...?
Hye Yeon, who had been taught under Shaolin’s strict discipline that self-restraint was the shortest road to the path of Buddha, was utterly shocked by what he was seeing.
Is this how all other sects are?
No, surely not.
As far as he knew, even places like Wudang, which were like Daoist temples, and sects with a strong secular bent like Zhongnan or the Five Great Families were supposed to keep their own strict rules.
The sight of second-generation and third-generation disciples, secular disciples, and even elders all in one place, hair ties undone, celebrating wildly, was probably something you could only ever see here in the whole world.
“Amitabha. Amitabha. Amitabha.”
His heart was pounding so hard he could barely hold himself together. Hye Yeon kept chanting the Buddha’s name again and again, desperately trying to steady his chest.
“Krrr! Have a drink!”
“Sasuk! You have to take mine too!”
“Oh my, Sect Leader! Congratulations!”
But no matter how many times he chanted, his mind refused to settle.
Do the people living in the mortal world really find this natural?
For Hye Yeon, who had spent his entire life in Shaolin, it was a scene he simply could not understand.
Then someone suddenly called out to him from behind.
“What are you doing!”
“Yes?”
“Take a drink!”
“...”
Hye Yeon blinked like a startled calf at Chung Myung, who had come up to him without him noticing and was now holding out a cup.
“Benefactor. I am a monk.”
“So?”
“I, I can’t drink alcohol.”
“What are you talking about? The monks I know all drink.”
“Pardon? Who?”
Chung Myung snorted.
Who do you think? Your own forefathers, that’s who.
Things were a complete disaster between them now, but back when Chung Myung was still the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, the relationship between Shaolin and Mount Hua wasn’t nearly so bad.
Of course, from Shaolin’s point of view, Mount Hua’s explosive growth had been a little unsettling. But they had Wudang standing in front of them to keep Mount Hua in check, and Mount Hua itself had its hands full beating up those Wudang bastards and hammering the Zhongnan bastards, so there was no reason for them to become hostile toward Shaolin.
If a little more time had passed without the rise of the Demonic Sect, the story might have been different. But that was a future that never came to be, so it hardly mattered.
In any case.
- Come on, take a cup, Daoist.
- Is it really okay for a monk to be drinking?
- Hah. Hearing that from a Daoist while he’s chugging straight from the bottle is pretty funny.
- Mount Hua can drink.
- If a Daoist can do it, why can’t a monk? Don’t be like that and take a cup.
- You’re a bald fraud.
The Shaolin monks drank, too, in their own way.
Of course, because the precepts were so strict, those of lower generation would never even dare touch alcohol, but once their generation rank got high enough, the backlash seemed to turn them surprisingly indulgent. That was just how those Shaolin bastards were.
“Anyway, take the cup.”
“Amitabha. This humble monk is fine.”
“Tsk tsk. What a fool.”
“...Pardon?”
Chung Myung looked Hye Yeon straight in the eye and said,
“You came down from Shaolin on your own because you wanted to find something in other people’s lives, didn’t you?”
“That is correct.”
“See?”
Chung Myung jerked his chin at the surroundings.
Everyone was passing cups back and forth, flushed red with drink.
“This is the life you wanted to see.”
“...”
“Life doesn’t change just because you watch it. It only means something when you throw yourself into it. You came here because you wanted to know a path that wasn’t in Buddhist scripture or Shaolin’s teachings. So are you really just going to stand there and watch from the side?”
Chung Myung filled the cup and held it out to Hye Yeon.
“Drink it.”
“Benefactor, I...”
“I don’t know where Buddha’s law is, but what you’re trying to find will be here.”
Hye Yeon quietly looked at the cup Chung Myung held out. Then he nodded and took it with both hands.
I...
The precepts are immensely important.
But sometimes, perhaps there is something more important than the precepts.
So long as he did not lose himself, what was a single cup of wine compared to plain grain drink?
Hye Yeon lifted the cup to his lips in a motion that looked almost reverent.
Then, eyes tightly shut, he emptied the cup in one go.
Gulp.
“...Hmm?”
Hye Yeon opened his eyes wide and stared at the cup. His face looked slightly dazed.
“How is it? Pretty intense, right?”
“...No, it’s only sweet.”
“Huh?”
Hye Yeon tilted his head and said,
“It tastes like honey water.”
“...”
Chung Myung stared at him blankly, then checked the bottle in his hand.
This is white liquor.
Of all alcohol, white liquor was famous for being one of the strongest.
And this guy, drinking for the first time in his life, was saying what? Sweet?
“Ain’t it strong?”
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
“...Take another cup.”
Chung Myung poured more into Hye Yeon’s cup. Hye Yeon tilted his head, then downed it again in one smooth gulp.
“Kha!”
“How is it?”
“This is amazing. It feels refreshing in my throat, yet sweet on my tongue, and fiery in my stomach! Isn’t it like feeling the seven desires with nothing more than a cup of water?”
“...”
Hye Yeon’s eyes fixed on the bottle in Chung Myung’s hand.
“Buddha’s law is not in the scriptures. I think I understand what that means now. If I had not tried this drink, I never would have known something like this existed in the world, would I? They say what one sees and hears cannot match what one does, and what one does cannot match what one enjoys!”
“...You really do have a refined way of saying you can hold your liquor.”
Chung Myung snickered, completely dumbfounded.
No wonder Shaolin would be horrified. For something like this to come out of that rigid temple, and for the culprit to be Hye Yeon of all people...
“Quit spouting nonsense and take another cup. Thanks to you, things have gone much smoother.”
“Thank you, Benefactor. You too, please take a cup from me.”
“Hoho. A monk who knows the dao of drinking? You’re going places.”
Once Chung Myung and Hye Yeon started passing drinks back and forth, the Mount Hua disciples watching from the side began to drift closer one by one.
The first to step forward was none other than Jo Gul.
“Monk! Monk, do you remember me?”
When Hye Yeon recognized Jo Gul’s face, he made an apologetic hand gesture.
“Of course. Jo Gul Daoist.”
“Haha! I knew it! Then you should take my drink too!”
When Hye Yeon took the drink Jo Gul offered and tossed it back in one shot, another bottle suddenly poked its way forward.
“Ah!”
“Take it.”
“Yu I-seol Daoist!”
Hye Yeon’s eyes brightened as he looked at Yu I-seol.
How deeply her sword had impressed him. Even now, the blade that had passed across his chest remained firmly etched into his mind.
“I’ll give you one too.”
Hye Yeon took Yu I-seol’s bottle and tipped it into her cup. Yu I-seol stared at the filled cup, then silently drank it all down.
In no time at all, the emptied cup was set back on the table with a sharp tap.
“Next time, I win.”
“I’ll always be looking forward to it.”
Many others came up to Hye Yeon as well, casually offering cups and accepting drinks in return. To them, too, Hye Yeon was a deeply fascinating person—someone they wanted to get close to.
Hye Yeon’s face gradually began to flush red.
This time, the redness wasn’t from embarrassment, but from drink.
“Krrr! Our monk can really hold his liquor!”
“Keep drinking! Keep it going!”
“Wow. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen anyone drink as well as Chung Myung.”
“Here, have another cup!”
“The alcohol’s going down! Down! Down!”
“You don’t pour out your drink with your inner power. If you waste alcohol you paid good money for, you’ll be punished!”
The Mount Hua disciples laughed and fed Hye Yeon more and more alcohol. And Hye Yeon, not knowing any better, happily accepted and drank every last bit.
Baek Cheon, watching the situation from a step back, glanced sideways at Chung Myung, who had somehow drifted farther behind them, and said,
“Shouldn’t we stop them?”
“Why?”
“...Aren’t things going to get bad if this keeps up?”
Chung Myung smiled wickedly.
“Let them be. Kids are supposed to get close over a drink. You need to see each other at your worst sometimes before affection can grow, right?”
“...”
Baek Cheon shook his head.
And the disaster he had feared came to pass in less than the time it took to burn one stick of incense.
“Heeheehee! I feel great!”
“...”
Hye Yeon, his upper robe half undone and his bald head flushed bright red, swayed drunkenly from side to side.
“Oh my! Our monk sure knows how to have fun!”
“One more! One more!”
And the Mount Hua disciples who had been feeding him drink, now equally drunk themselves, gathered around him and laughed their heads off, half out of their minds.
Baek Cheon clicked his tongue sourly at the sight.
Since when is this what it looks like when Shaolin and Mount Hua hang out together?
This was supposed to be a place where Shangsung Fort and Mount Hua Fort were deepening their friendship!
If there had been a pig hanging in the back, it would have been impossible to deny it.
“Chung Myung, I think we really should stop— Chung Myung?”
Baek Cheon turned his head, looking for Chung Myung, who had vanished from beside him at some point.
“...”
Chung Myung was shoving a bottle into the mouth of Wi Lip-san, the leader of Hwayeong Gate.
Worse, Hyun Young was at his side, cackling with laughter.
“...”
Chung Myung, who had just been snickering at the sight of Wi Lip-san tipping backward with the bottle still in hand, stuffed a bottle into his own mouth and started guzzling like a beast.
At that sight, Baek Cheon smiled in contentment.
I don’t even know anymore.
Whatever happens, happens.
“Give me some booze too!”
Even Baek Cheon, who had finally let go of the last thread of restraint, rushed toward the others.
The drinking party that had begun as Hye Yeon’s welcome feast turned out to be far more raucous—and far more enjoyable—than anyone expected, continuing deep into the night.
If Beop Jeong had seen this scene, he would have spat foam and fallen over backward on the spot. But fortunately or unfortunately, all the way up there on distant Song Mountain, he had no way of knowing any of it.
What a pity.