If You’re Going to Do It, Do It Properly! (4)
“Is everything loaded?”
“Yeah.”
“And all the preparations are finished?”
“Of course.”
Chung Myung looked over the wooden crates stacked neatly on the cart and felt a flicker of surprise all over again.
They actually know how to do things without being ordered anymore.
In the past, they had been no better than freshly hatched grubs, but now they were handling the preparations on their own, crisp and efficient.
Chung Myung decided that, since relentless nagging and abuse had clearly been effective, he ought to keep up the harassment even harder from now on.
Then something unfamiliar caught his eye.
“But what are those bundles on top of the crates?”
“Food.”
“Huh?”
As if he had been waiting for that exact question, Baek Cheon’s eyes lit up.
“The Tang Family Lord prepared separate rations for the road home! I nearly cried! Unlike certain people, he’s so thoughtful and warm.”
“Why would that old man do something so useless—”
“Old man? You little—! How dare you talk about my father like that!”
Dang Soso kicked at Chung Myung’s leg, but he dodged lightly and frowned.
“Tch. If you keep giving kids stuff like this, they’ll grow up with no grit!”
“Then what, should Venerable Hye Yeon have grown some world-class grit by eating grass on the road here? You bastard! He didn’t have grit; he looked half-dead! A person who used to shine like that—how badly do you have to starve him before he starts fading away like that?”
“But his head still shines.”
“Wow... you’re a rotten bastard.”
Somewhere off to the side, someone seemed to be sniffling, but no one dared look in that direction.
“Anyway, then everything’s ready.”
Chung Myung turned sharply and said, “All right, let’s get going.”
As they stepped out through the main gate, the Tang Family household spilled out in a bustling wave to see the rare guests off.
Well, that much was fine, but...
Pwoooooo!
“...Why are they mixed in there?”
“Now I can’t tell if this is the Tang Family or the Beast Palace.”
The problem was that even the beasts dragged along by the Beast Palace Lord were lined up beside the people, seeing off Mount Hua’s disciples.
“Hahahahaha!”
Lord of the Southern Barbarian Beast Palace Maeng So strode up to the Mount Hua disciples, who had even brought the cart out to the gate one last time. With obvious interest, he looked the cart over and asked, “Hmm. You’re pulling that thing yourself?”
“...Yes, sir.”
When the disciples nodded, the Beast Palace Lord reached out and lightly lifted the cart.
“Ho. That’s not bad training. It might work well for our palace’s disciples too.”
The Mount Hua disciples’ faces turned faintly pale.
They really hoped that wasn’t the sort of thing they’d end up copying.
Then Chung Myung shrugged and asked, “When are you heading back?”
“You’re leaving now; what point is there in me lingering too long? I should be making my way back soon as well. But there are still some matters of trade with the Tang Family that haven’t been settled, so I’ll probably need to stay another day.”
“Don’t get greedy and make sure to compromise with each other. It’s better when everyone walks away happy.”
“Hahahaha. I’ll keep that in mind.”
It seemed the Beast Palace intended to use this opportunity to expand its trade with Sichuan a little more. In fact, the matters under discussion now weren’t about the existing tea trade, but about other goods entirely.
And the merchants actually handling that trade would still be the Sahae Merchant Guild and the other Mount Hua-affiliated caravans, of course.
“Tsk. Still a shame. If you visited the Beast Palace too, plenty of people would welcome you.”
“I’d love to go, but as you know, I’m busy. I’ve seen the Palace Lord, so that’s enough for now.”
“Good. Then next time, you must come. Promise me.”
“Yes, I promise.”
At Chung Myung’s answer, the Beast Palace Lord flashed a broad, refreshing grin.
“The cubs of the Ink-Scaled Blood Python that you saved before have grown quite a bit.”
“Enough to soak in liquor?”
“...No. Just forget I said anything.”
The Beast Palace Lord backed away with a worn-out expression.
Then Tang Gun-ak stepped forward and gave his farewell.
“It will be a long road. Take care.”
“Yes. Don’t worry about us. Even if we look like this, everyone’s bodies are strong.”
“So they do seem.”
At that moment, Dang Soso trotted out and bowed deeply to Tang Gun-ak.
“Father! I’ll return as an even stronger martial artist!”
At her loud, spirited declaration, Tang Gun-ak looked at his daughter for a moment before speaking.
“Soso.”
“Yes!”
“Just keep your body healthy.”
Dang Soso couldn’t answer at once. She chewed lightly on her lip, then lowered her head again.
“...I will. I promise.”
“Good.”
A gentle smile touched Tang Gun-ak’s lips.
The household maids and women, who had all been unable to look away from Dang Soso’s changed appearance, still stared at her.
But Tang Gun-ak no longer cared about how his daughter’s appearance had changed. He only wanted her to live healthy and happy as she was.
His gaze shifted to Chung Myung.
“I’ll have the matters we discussed moved along as quickly as possible. If anything else needs to be discussed, I’ll send a letter through the caravans, so I ask that you reply without delay.”
“No need to be so formal. I’m sure you’ll handle it well enough.”
“A sect has its own standing to consider.”
“Right. Then I’ll tell the Sect Leader about it.”
“That would be good as well.”
“All right, then.”
Now that the farewells had been exchanged enough, Chung Myung glanced around and opened his mouth.
“Then we’ll—”
And then.
Fwoooosh!
A streak of white lightning burst out from among the crowd, wrapped itself around Chung Myung’s leg, and in the blink of an eye settled on his shoulder.
“...What the hell?”
“Baek Ah?”
Jo Gul blinked.
“Is it trying to go with them?”
“...After being that scared? What a weird little thing.”
Everyone stared in fascination at the marten perched on Chung Myung’s shoulder.
But Chung Myung, for some reason, looked distinctly displeased. He even tried to peel it off his shoulder.
“What. You’re not getting down?”
Baek Ah clung to his shoulder with all its strength.
“Why? It likes you so much. Just take it with you,” Baek Cheon said.
Chung Myung frowned. “This thing’s name is Baekjeon.”
Huh?
Ah, right. That had been the marten’s original name. Everyone had been calling it Baek Ah, so they’d forgotten.
“...What’s wrong with that?”
“I don’t like it.”
“Huh?”
With the same sour look on his face, Chung Myung tapped the marten’s head a few times.
“This little white thing doesn’t even earn its food. It’s pretty to look at, sure, but it’s a complete idiot when it comes to doing anything. Seriously, it’s just a useless little fool who needs way too much looking after.”
“...You bastard?”
Veins popped on Baek Cheon’s forehead. But Chung Myung only shrugged.
“Why are you getting mad, Sasuk?”
“Grrrgh.”
He scratched under Baek Ah’s chin and went on, “Honestly, only I’d bother feeding something like this. If it had been at Zhongnan, they’d have sold it off somewhere by now. No, wait—maybe it would’ve run away before that?”
“Ah, stop saying that!”
“Fluhmblrrghh.”
Even the marten was mocking Baek Cheon now. Since he couldn’t possibly have a fit in front of the Tang Family, Baek Cheon could only clutch at his thigh in silent agony.
Chung Myung clicked his tongue and grabbed Baek Ah by the scruff, lifting it up. At that moment, the Beast Palace Lord, who had approached, burst into laughter.
“Looks like the little one likes you. Take it with you.”
“Me? It looks like a rare beast to me.”
“The Beast Palace lives with beasts. We don’t keep them as servants. If the little fellow wants to go, then there’s no stopping it.”
He scratched his head with that pot-lid-sized hand of his.
“Besides, hmm... to be honest, that one is actually more help not being in the palace. Its temper’s so savage, and it bullies the weaker beasts all the time. It gives me quite the headache.”
“Weaker beasts?”
“That tiger over there is the perfect example.”
Chung Myung whipped his head around.
The tiger the size of a small house, the one he had slept on like a cushion, was looking sidelong at Baek Ah with its tail tucked in.
“...What kind of tiger can’t even act like one...?”
“Size isn’t what matters. A rare beast is a rare beast. So take it, will you? It’s absolute chaos every night.”
The Beast Palace Lord shook his head repeatedly. Hearing this, Baek Cheon and the others nodded over and over as well.
“The human version of Chung Myung.”
“Just like its owner, that marten.”
“Exactly the same.”
Chung Myung alone tilted his head and scratched Baek Ah’s chin.
“Weird. It seems awfully tame to me.”
“Yeah, tame.”
“It’ll even smack a tiger under the jaw. It really is tame.”
Everything in the world was relative.
“Tch.”
Chung Myung clicked his tongue softly and lifted Baek Ah to eye level, meeting its gaze.
“Find your own damn meals, got it?”
The marten nodded so violently it looked like its neck might snap.
Then it immediately darted in and pressed itself against Chung Myung’s cheek, rubbing its soft little face over him.
“Ah, that tickles. Get off!”
After pushing Baek Ah away, Chung Myung looked at Tang Gun-ak and said, “Then we’re really going now.”
“Yes. Be careful on the road.”
“Let’s go!”
The Mount Hua disciples began pulling the heavy cart forward. Everyone found the sight strange, but not nearly as shocking as before. The Sichuan Tang Family had now reached the point where anything Mount Hua did was simply taken in stride.
“Please travel safely!”
“We’ll see you again!”
“Long live Mount Hua!”
Enthusiastic farewells followed them.
“Hm.”
Chung Myung smiled faintly.
For now, it was barely more than a perfunctory display, but someday, those cheers would be heartfelt.
After he had fully left the gate, he suddenly stopped walking.
“Hold up.”
“Huh?”
“Wait a second.”
He turned back and met Tang Gun-ak’s eyes, still watching from inside the gate.
“Tang Family Lord!”
Chung Myung, who had looked ready to leave, suddenly shouted loudly, and Tang Gun-ak tilted his head in confusion.
“What is it?”
As everyone’s attention shifted toward him, Chung Myung flashed a grin.
“You’ve given us good swords, and you’ve fed us well. It’d be rude to leave after all this hospitality without giving something back, so I’ll leave you a present.”
“...Huh? A present?”
At the word, everyone stared at him intently. A present, in a situation like this?
And then it happened.
Swish.
The Dark Fragrance Plum Blossom Sword hanging at Chung Myung’s waist was slowly drawn free.
“Oh!”
“...My word.”
This was none other than the Sichuan Tang Family.
Even if they had never seen it up close, there were plenty who could recognize the value of a sword like this.
Holding the blade, Chung Myung slowly let the Dark Fragrance Plum Blossom Sword hang down. The plum blossom pattern engraved into the blade caught the sunlight and revealed itself in crisp, brilliant detail.
“...A sword of that caliber...”
“It’s beautiful.”
Everyone in the Tang Family could not take their eyes off the Dark Fragrance Plum Blossom Sword.
Chung Myung waited quietly until every gaze had gathered on the blade.
There had been a lot of opposition, huh.
Which meant that there were still those who doubted Tang Gun-ak’s choice. And still those who did not trust Mount Hua.
But he couldn’t blame them. Mount Hua was still only a sect that had just begun to stretch its limbs. It would take time before its strength was recognized everywhere.
Still, if they wanted to accomplish more in the future, Tang Gun-ak needed a little more backing.
Words alone won’t do.
Not when there was no comparison to seeing it with your own eyes.
Swish.
Chung Myung’s sword began to move slowly. The blade that had hung downward traced a lazy half-circle, then pointed up toward the sky.
The sight seared itself into the eyes of everyone watching.
And then...
The thin blade began to tremble softly.
It was as supple as a soft sword, and yet it contained power no soft sword could hope to match. The sword Dang Jo-pyeong had infused with his soul perfectly embodied Chung Myung’s will, as if it had been traveling with him from the very beginning.
“As proof that Mount Hua and the Sichuan Tang Family have become friends, I’m leaving behind a single plum blossom. So long as this plum blossom does not fall, the relationship between our two sects will not be broken.”
Bloom.
At the tip of the sword, where the early morning sunlight shone, a single plum blossom began to form with startling clarity.
One crimson blossom, so vivid it drew gasps all on its own.
Then another.
Everyone in the Tang Family stood there with their mouths open, staring at the spectacle.
The broad road stretching beyond the Tang Family’s gate.
In that otherwise barren place, plum blossoms bloomed and scattered on the wind, and then another cluster of flowers opened in their wake. The blossoms kept blooming, one after another, until in an instant the road had become a gorgeous forest of plum flowers.
“Good heavens...”
Those with lower martial cultivation shivered at the wondrous sight.
Those who had confidence in their own skill, on the other hand, clenched their teeth at the precision of the blossoming plum flowers.
How can sword technique be that precise...
Isn’t he several times stronger than he was at the martial arts tournament?
Just then, a long gust of wind blew through.
The plum blossoms Chung Myung had brought forth rose together, pointing toward the heavens. Then, at last, they began to drift down slowly.
It was like a rain of flowers falling across the entire sky—mancheonhwayu.
The fallen petals swept forward in waves, then coiled around the enormous pillars supporting the Tang Family gate and circled them.
Scratch-scratch.
Scritch.
A small rustling sound, like something being tickled, rang out. Then the petals spiraling around the pillar surged upward once more and vanished at last.
“Oh...”
The people who had been watching as if spellbound looked after the fading petals with reluctant regret.
But in that moment—
“W-what’s that!”
One of those who had been looking at the pillars cried out in shock.
By then, dozens of plum blossom patterns had been engraved into the Tang Family’s pillars. Each one was vivid and intricate, as if carved by a master artisan with all his heart and soul poured into the work.
Swish.
Chung Myung sheathed his sword lightly and smiled broadly as he waved to the Tang Family household.
“See you again!”
“Waaaaaah!”
“Mount Hua Divine Dragon!”
This time the cheers that rose up were slightly different from before—genuine, heartfelt, and thunderous.
Smiling as he waved back, Chung Myung met Tang Gun-ak’s eyes once more before turning away without hesitation.
Baek Cheon asked quietly, “You said one blossom?”
“I thought it would be tacky if I stopped there.”
“You really are impossible.”
Baek Cheon let out a snort of laughter, then shouted, “Let’s go!”
“Yes!”
The Mount Hua disciples pulled the heavy cart onward.
“They’re leaving.”
“So they are.”
Before long, Dang Jo-pyeong, who was standing beside Tang Gun-ak, gazed wistfully at the receding Mount Hua disciples.
“Not long from now, Mount Hua’s plum blossoms will shake the jianghu once again.”
“They already are.”
“Yes. They should be.”
Dang Jo-pyeong quietly watched Chung Myung’s back, then turned away.
“Come on, then. We can’t afford to fall behind either.”
“Yes, Great-Uncle.”
But even after replying, Tang Gun-ak did not turn away for a while.
The relationship will not be broken until the plum blossom falls.
He savored the words to himself, then let out a soft laugh.
“Will the day ever come when the plum blossom carved into those pillars falls?”
In any case.
What an amusing fellow.
Truly.