A Good Person Is One Who Feeds You Well! (3)
Lord Seol Cheonsang of the North Sea Ice Palace walked down a corridor with his subordinates in tow, the snowstorm surging in around them.
Even as the cold wind slashed at him again and again, he never once blinked. Men of the North Sea did not bend to the cold.
“Palace Lord.”
At the old, weathered voice coming from behind him, Seol Cheonsang stopped.
“It may be presumptuous of me to ask, but I simply cannot understand. Why are you treating those people as honored guests?”
It was a cautious question, but Seol Cheonsang’s brow furrowed deeply.
“There’s no real reason.”
His voice was icily flat.
“Their intentions for coming here are obvious. Aren’t they just here to see how the Ice Palace is being run?”
“All the more reason, then…”
“How foolish.”
Seol Cheonsang frowned and looked back at the elder.
“Who do you think sent them?”
“...Well...”
“Obviously Shaolin.”
At the name, the faces of the elders stiffened.
“It’s not that Shaolin lacks the power to leave the Ice Palace alone. What they need is justification.”
Shaolin no longer held the same sway it once had.
If this had been the old days, when the Central Plains rose like wildfire at their orders, even the Ice Palace would never have dared drive away Shaolin’s surveillance in the North Sea.
But things were different now.
With their standing weakened, there was no sect foolish enough to travel all the way to this remote northern wasteland on Shaolin’s command. That meant Shaolin would have to face the North Sea on its own. And that would never be easy, not even for Shaolin.
And even if they won, if they came all this way alone and suffered heavy losses, Shaolin would lose its influence over the Central Plains entirely.
“If we lay a hand on them, we hand them the justification.”
“Justification, you say…”
“Mount Hua Divine Dragon. And Shaolin’s Hye Yeon.”
In that instant, Seol Cheonsang’s eyes gleamed sharply.
“If two of the younger generation who represent the Orthodox Sects were to die here in the North Sea at the same time, then even the great sects that like to sit on their fat asses would have trouble staying out of North Sea affairs.”
“...So Shaolin sent them here knowing that? And Shaolin’s Hye Yeon—I heard he’s a prized genius whom the abbot dotes on. People say he’s the kind of talent that appears only once in a hundred years.”
“Yes. A hundred years. A long time, if nothing else.”
Seol Cheonsang muttered under his breath in a low voice, almost to himself. Then he turned back to the elder and said flatly, “But to a sect like Shaolin, one genius is only one genius. What matters more is Shaolin’s position.”
“Hmm.”
The elders shivered.
If that were true, then Shaolin’s abbot had sent his most cherished disciple into a place where he might be maimed or killed?
How cold-blooded. How terrifying.
They said that a poisonous heart was essential for anyone who ruled the world, but to think it was to this extent…
“If we harm them, Shaolin gains the perfect justification, and they’ll come pressuring the Ice Palace.”
“But Palace Lord, surely pressure from the Central Plains isn’t such a problem?”
At that, Seol Cheonsang turned and fixed the elder with a piercing stare. The man who had spoken flinched immediately and lowered his head.
Seol Cheonsang, his face twisted with irritation and undisguised disdain, let out a sigh.
“I’m not afraid of the Central Plains. And I’m certainly not afraid of Shaolin. The problem is that if we fight them now, we gain nothing. If we can’t expand into the Central Plains right away, then even if we win, all we’ll do is suffer losses.”
“That is true.”
“The best victory is the one won without fighting. If we treat those bastards well and send them back, Shaolin will lose the excuse to march on the Ice Palace.”
“Ahh.”
The elders behind him nodded repeatedly in admiration.
“As expected of Palace Lord!”
“How could they possibly grasp your insight and foresight?”
“The Ice Palace’s thousand years of glory are close at hand.”
At the torrent of praise, Seol Cheonsang smiled with satisfaction. But inside, he felt nothing of the sort.
Idiots.
They couldn’t even consider something this simple, yet they still had the nerve to ask all these pointless questions.
In order to seize control of the Ice Palace quickly, he had surrounded himself with people who would offer unquestioning loyalty rather than ability.
And as a result, every one of these so-called elders was useless except for flattery.
Seol Cheonsang suppressed his annoyance and asked, “What are those men doing?”
“Once we gave them wine and food, they started eating and drinking to their hearts’ content, none the wiser.”
“Without suspicion?”
“Yes. They didn’t seem the least bit on guard.”
“...Were they really that stupid?”
The smile faded from Seol Cheonsang’s face. In its place came cold contempt and disdain.
“I was a little tense since even Beast Palace Lord Maeng So introduced them himself, but it seems they’re nothing more than some pampered idiots who grew up in warm and comfortable surroundings.”
People who lived on barren land were always alert. But those fools apparently weren’t capable of that.
Then one of the elders standing guard behind him wore a strange expression and hesitated. Seol Cheonsang immediately noticed the change.
“You’ve got something to say?”
“Palace Lord…”
The elder swallowed dryly, his face awkward.
“It’s just... something feels different.”
Seol Cheonsang’s brow twitched.
Different?
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not that they seem nervous, it’s more like... I mean...”
His stammering irritation finally started to itch at Seol Cheonsang’s nerves, and he frowned.
“Say it properly. What are you trying to say!”
“...I think you should see it for yourself.”
“Hm?”
In the end, he never got a proper explanation. Seol Cheonsang glared at the man who had spoken, but gave no further rebuke and resumed walking.
I’ll see when I get there.
They were headed there anyway.
And a short while later.
The moment Seol Cheonsang entered the banquet hall, his eyes widened as if he had witnessed something he could not believe.
What...?
This was the North Sea Ice Palace.
The North Sea. Yes, the North Sea—an unforgiving land far, far away from the Central Plains.
Anyone who entered territory ruled by the Ice Palace was supposed to feel overawed.
It had nothing to do with courage. Anyone, faced with unfamiliar nature and culture, was bound to shrink a little.
That was why every outsider who had visited the North Sea Ice Palace until now had, without exception, shown roughly the same reaction.
And yet…
What in the world are those people doing?
The scene before him was unlike anything he had ever seen in his life.
Gulp! Gulp! Gulp!
The one seated in the center was gripping a huge wine jar with both hands and swigging from it like a man dying of thirst.
Watching his adam’s apple bob up and down with vigor was enough to make Seol Cheonsang’s own throat feel dry.
“Kraaaaaaah!”
The man slammed the jar down and wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand before letting out a laugh so hearty it seemed to shake the room.
“This liquor is deadly!”
The one seated at the center, cackling to himself with obvious satisfaction, was, of course, Chung Myung.
His eyes were practically sparkling as he stared at the jar.
It seemed to be liquor so strong that it could barely be found even in the Central Plains, and he looked utterly delighted by it. He kept smacking his lips before grabbing a slab of meat and tearing into it with refreshing enthusiasm.
“Meat! It’s meat!”
Chop chop chop chop chop.
He reduced the meat to shreds in an instant, then reached for another piece.
Snatch!
But someone else quickly stole away the meat he had been aiming for.
“Oh, really?”
Chung Myung’s eyes glittered menacingly as he glared at Jo Gul, who had snatched the meat away.
“You’re putting your hands on my meat? No respect for your elders and betters?”
“Chung Myung. You’re the one below me.”
“Ah, right.”
Jo Gul, who had been a little wary of Chung Myung at first, soon tore into the meat like a starving animal and burst into tears of gratitude.
“Juicy meat...! Not dried jerky, but actual meat! Hngh! It melts in your mouth, it really melts!”
“Eat a little quieter. Quietly!”
Even as Jo Gul was being scolded, Yoon Jong was busily moving his chopsticks without pause.
Even Baek Cheon, who was usually the first to point out when his juniors had lost all self-control, said not a single word as he shoved food into his mouth with wild abandon. And Yu I-seol and Dang Soso, seated to one side, kept their gazes fixed on the table as they swept food into themselves with almost violent speed.
“Rice! Rice!”
“Damn, this is so good…”
Jo Gul was practically in love with the meat, his expression blissful.
“We finally get to eat proper food all the way out here!”
“...We brought grain with us, but we never even got to cook rice.”
“That devil kept pushing us to hurry up and leave, so what choice did we have but chew on raw rice!”
During the journey to the North Sea, they had been too busy moving to eat proper meals, and once they arrived at the village, they were too occupied treating the wounded to settle down and cook in earnest.
And it wasn’t as if Daoists could casually add more to the porridge they had made to distribute to impoverished patients.
As a result, the Mount Hua disciples were finally eating a proper meal for the first time in nearly a month.
For those who had once torn into meat three times a day at Mount Hua and instead survived on raw rice and dried jerky, how hard must it have been? And now, at last, real food was laid before them. It would have been stranger if they had been able to see anything else.
Except for one person.
Nibble.
Only one person was not managing a proper meal. A spoon moved listlessly across the plate, scraping back and forth before finally settling weakly on the table.
“...M-monk...”
Only after they finally had room to look around did the Mount Hua disciples turn to Hye Yeon with faces full of pity.
Apparently determined to properly entertain their guests, the Ice Palace had set before them a table with nothing but meat.
Stir-fried meat, boiled meat, fried meat, roasted meat...
For the Mount Hua disciples, it was a feast. For Hye Yeon, however, it was merely something he could look at but not touch.
Hye Yeon stared at the table with the saddest eyes in the world before eventually picking up the stir-fried vegetables that had been placed there for the sake of variety and nibbling on them.
“...Should I ask them to make something else?”
“Amitabha...”
With moist eyes, Hye Yeon looked at Yoon Jong before shaking his head weakly.
“I... I am fine.”
“He says he’s fine! Eat!”
“Yes!”
The meal, which had turned into a battlefield again, resumed with renewed intensity. Hye Yeon stared blankly at the Mount Hua disciples, lost in dazed amazement.
Just once more. Please ask just once more...
Was it so hard to push a little harder? To be that merciless?
But Hye Yeon wasn’t the only one left stunned.
Lord Seol Cheonsang of the North Sea Ice Palace was, quite literally, looking on in utter bewilderment at the Mount Hua disciples.
Mount Hua Sect was a Daoist sect, wasn’t it?
However little information the North Sea had on the Central Plains, there was no way even the most basic facts could be that wrong.
What kind of Daoist gulps down wine like that, and tears into meat like some starving beast?
And what about that monk, who kept staring at the wine jar?
Only then did he understand why the elder had said he needed to see this with his own eyes. This was… a sight that simply could not be explained in words.
“Khh! I feel alive again.”
After stuffing so much meat into himself that even the cooks were exhausted, Chung Myung patted his bloated stomach and seized the wine jar again.
“...After eating that much, you can still drink?”
“Dong-ryong, Dong-ryong. There’s a stomach for food and a stomach for alcohol. You don’t even know something that simple? Tsk tsk tsk.”
Chung Myung grinned and lowered his head, which he had been holding back in satisfaction.
“Oh?”
Only then did he notice Seol Cheonsang standing by the door. Chung Myung’s face brightened as he sprang to his feet.
“Palace Lord, you’re here!”
“...”
“Khh! Thank you. I never thought you’d welcome us this warmly!”
“...I-is that so?”
Sweat beaded on Seol Cheonsang’s forehead.
He didn’t even know how long it had been since he last sweat in the North Sea.
Is he... a little lacking?
The relationship between the Central Plains and the North Sea was still far from friendly. No matter that they had come on Maeng So’s recommendation, this was still, in the end, enemy territory to them.
And yet this bastard was acting as if it were his own home?
“Want a drink?”
“...”
“This stuff’s good. Really amazing.”
At that shamelessness, Seol Cheonsang found himself at a loss for words. He gave an awkward smile and replied, “I’m glad you like it.”
Then he quietly took a breath and steadied himself. Only when he crossed over and sat in the chair across from the Mount Hua disciples did his mind begin to settle.
“Yes. It looks like you’ve had enough to eat, so now let’s talk.”
With a smiling face, he asked, “What brings you to the North Sea?”
At the question, Chung Myung’s lips curled into a sly grin.