Is the Little Taoist Really a Daoist? (3)
The demonic qi gathered atop Hwang Mun-yak’s head as if it had a will of its own, massing there to prepare for battle.
This isn’t something I can just mess with recklessly.
It was a headache.
If he charged in carelessly and caused a collision inside the old man’s head, Hwang Mun-yak would be saying hello to the reaper in no time. No, maybe even now the grim reaper was standing behind Chung Myung, clicking his tongue.
And if he backed off like this?
That’s even worse.
The area beneath Hwang Mun-yak’s head had been purified to an absurd degree. But that was not necessarily good news. A body that had been cleansed would absorb demonic qi even faster.
It was like dropping ink into clear water; it spread in an instant.
Advance and die. Retreat and die.
Caught in a pincer no matter what he did, Chung Myung hesitated for a moment, unable to decide.
What do I do?
What the hell do I do?
If he followed his temper, he’d want to charge in right now, but the consequences of doing things his own way were far too obvious.
After agonizing over it, Chung Myung bit his lip hard.
So that’s how it is.
He couldn’t advance or retreat?
Then he didn’t have to do either.
He just had to make both impossible.
Chung Myung gathered his force to one side. When a rat was backed into a corner, it bit the cat; when a soldier had no route of escape, he fought to the death.
But what if there was a way out? The rat fled, and the soldier dropped his weapon and retreated.
Fine. I’ll give it somewhere to run.
Chung Myung opened a path.
There was nowhere left for the demonic qi to flee inside Hwang Mun-yak’s body. But one place—just one place—had a hole it could escape through.
Chung Myung’s own body.
As he funneled his inner force to one side and slowly pressed against the old man’s head, the demonic qi, just as expected, found the opening and surged out like a burst dam. Before long it spilled over through Chung Myung’s hand, which was still touching Hwang Mun-yak’s body. Since Chung Myung had sent all his force into Hwang Mun-yak, his own body was wide open, making it the perfect place for the demons to run to.
“Ugh…”
A groan escaped him before he could stop it.
A prickling numbness ran up his arm and spread through his entire body in an instant. With the hideous pain came blurred vision and a mind that began to drift away.
“Tch!”
Chung Myung pulled his inner force back from Hwang Mun-yak’s body. Then he sent it surging through his own body.
Kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa!
It sounded like a waterfall crashing inside him. The demonic qi, having run out of places to flee, began its fight to the death. But Chung Myung’s inner force, utterly merciless despite its purity, suppressed them like an occupying army.
Every part of his body had become a battlefield.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Explosions reverberated inside him. Each burst brought unbearable agony, tormenting Chung Myung without mercy. Yet he clenched his bloodshot eyes and bit down hard on his lip.
Was he really going to lose consciousness here?
Like hell I am.
The pride of the Plum Blossom Sword Saint would never allow it.
Chung Myung stood his ground and waited for the final detonation. His inner force swept over the last remnants of demonic qi still clinging to life.
Kwaaaaaaang!
The sound of the heavens splitting thundered out.
His vision turned white, and his consciousness receded into the distance. Slowly, Chung Myung closed his eyes. The inner force that had completely subdued the demonic qi began to race through his body, sounding a triumphant victory cry.
One circuit. Two circuits.
In the blink of an eye, it completed the Twelve Circulations, and only then, as if satisfied, did it return to his danjeon and coil there obediently.
Only after all of that was done did Chung Myung open his eyes.
“Gghhh… That nearly killed me.”
It was no joke—he really had come dangerously close to death.
Normally, demonic qi of that level was not something Chung Myung could handle. If he had made even the slightest mistake, either he or Hwang Mun-yak would have died.
That was seriously close. I’m never doing something like this again.
Chung Myung rubbed around the edge of his danjeon.
“But I feel like I got a little stronger somehow.”
There was no real reason for it, but his danjeon felt oddly swollen.
“...Though it’s probably no more than a rat’s tail.”
His inner force certainly practiced the old saying that even a little pepper can be spicy, but small was still small. How long would it take before he could fill it up like a great river? The thought alone made it seem hopelessly far away.
Chung Myung let out a sigh and turned his head to look at Hwang Mun-yak. Perhaps because the poison had vanished, color had returned to his face. He seemed to have recovered his health in an instant.
Well, of course.
It wasn’t just the poison that had been removed; he’d also undergone a full cleansing of the marrow and skin. It couldn’t be compared to a true transformation of the bones and flesh, but at the very least, his life had probably been extended by another ten years.
“Tsk.”
Since it felt like he’d done nothing but help someone else for nothing, Chung Myung clicked his tongue and walked over to Hwang Mun-yak.
“Uugh… nggh…”
It seemed he was regaining consciousness.
His eyelids trembled wildly, then slowly opened.
Hwang Mun-yak’s unfocused gaze drifted about for a moment before settling on Chung Myung.
Then, in a voice so weak it sounded as if he might die at any second, he spoke.
“Wh… who are you?”
Chung Myung smiled brightly.
“A hermit.”
“...”
“No, wait. A little hermit?”
“...”
Hwang Mun-yak muttered weakly, “I must have died and come to hell.”
“...”
What the hell, man?
＊ ＊ ＊
Once Hwang Mun-yak regained consciousness, the Eunha Merchant Guild was quickly put in order.
It turned out that Beon Ja-bok, who had tried to murder Hwang Mun-yak, had planned to kill Hwang Jong-ui next if his scheme succeeded, and then even the children after that. His idea was that if every bloodline in the Hwang family slowly died from the same illness, the world would assume the family had been cursed or afflicted by some strange disease, and suspicion would be avoided.
In fact, the plan had worked rather well. If Hwang Mun-yak had died suddenly, everyone would have been suspicious, but because he had languished for nearly a year, no one had imagined it could be murder.
And hadn’t the Tang Clan themselves officially certified that it wasn’t poison?
If Chung Myung had not appeared, the chief administrator’s plan would have seen the entire Hwang family die off and their fortune swallowed whole by the very man who had overseen them.
In the meantime, there was a tragic, tear-jerking story about how Chief Administrator Beon Ja-bok was the child of a merchant family that had once competed with Hwang Mun-yak, but that was none of Chung Myung’s concern.
“If you commit a crime, you get hit. Everybody has a story. So what?”
The only thing Chung Myung cared about was the source of the Danmasu. But even that had apparently been a secret manual discovered on a corpse deep in the mountains while on a business journey.
Chung Myung felt the fire go out of him.
Well, if the bastards from the Demonic Sect had done it, they wouldn’t have handled things this sloppily.
No—more than that, they wouldn’t have handled it this carefully and quietly. Weren’t those bastards the type to overturn everything first if something annoyed them?
In the end, though, the conclusion was simple: the culprit had been caught, Hwang Mun-yak’s illness had been cured, and they had even confirmed that the Demonic Sect was not involved. In other words, everything had turned out for the best.
Thanks to that, Chung Myung, the Eunha Merchant Guild’s benefactor, was treated as an honored guest.
A very honored guest.
“Hmm.”
Hwang Mun-yak sat down lightly.
“Father, you should still be careful with your movements. You’ve only just gotten out of bed.”
“It’s fine. I may indeed have lain in bed for a long time, but I feel more energetic now than I did before I collapsed.”
“Still…”
“There’s no need to worry.”
Hwang Jong-ui looked at Hwang Mun-yak with a dubious expression.
Which was understandable, because Hwang Mun-yak looked like a corpse pulled out of the river. He looked ready to topple over any second and head off to the afterlife, and yet he was claiming to be brimming with strength.
“More importantly,”
Hwang Mun-yak lifted his head and looked at Chung Myung.
“...You’re Little Daoist Chung Myung, yes?”
“Yep. Didn’t I meet you back then?”
“You seem to have changed somewhat since then.”
“Ah. I’ve been eating really well.”
Chung Myung scratched the back of his head with his plump hand.
Everyone watching him had their expressions twitch a little.
He’s twice the size he was.
Just how much did he eat in three days for his clothes to look ready to burst?
He’s so greasy he looks like the Buddha himself. If he’d gone into the Buddhist order, he would’ve been a great success. Why did he have to go to Daoism instead?
So that’s why the cook was screaming as if he were dying.
Watching Chung Myung, who had somehow doubled in size in just three days, everyone shook their heads.
Only Hwang Mun-yak kept a calm expression on his face, as if to show just how seasoned a merchant he really was.
“Then first, please accept my bow.”
Hwang Mun-yak dropped straight to the floor.
Startled, Hwang Jong-ui moved to stop him, but after a sharp glance from his father, he quietly stepped back.
Hwang Mun-yak had just forced Hwang Jong-ui back with nothing but his eyes before bowing his head again.
“Thanks to Little Daoist, I was saved from death. I have no way to repay this kindness.”
“Hey now. Get up, get up.”
What do you mean no way? There were too many ways—that was the problem.
At Chung Myung’s words, Hwang Mun-yak slowly straightened his back and smiled gently.
“I’ve heard everything from Jong-ui. If not for the Daoist, I would already be dead. Even beasts know to repay those who save them; if a human forgets kindness after being born human, he would be worse than a beast.”
Well, look at that. Good at talking, this one.
Right, right.
Hwang Mun-yak looked steadily at Chung Myung and said, “There may be no way in this world to repay a life-saving kindness, but I would like to do everything I can. If there is anything our benefactor desires, please speak to me without hesitation.”
“Ah. Anything I want?”
“Yes.”
“Haha. How could a Daoist ask for repayment after saving someone? If my sect hears about it, it’ll be a disaster.”
“Repaying kindness does not discriminate between people. If I were to dismiss this favor simply because it came from someone pursuing the Dao, the people of the world would mock me, Hwang. And I myself could not accept such a thing.”
“I appreciate the sentiment, but… my sect definitely won’t accept it either. I came here without their permission.”
“...Without your sect’s permission?”
“Yep. It was such an urgent matter that I didn’t have time to ask.”
Hwang Mun-yak looked at the young Daoist before him with touched eyes.
He had risked himself and even climbed over the walls of his sect to save him—how could he not be moved?
“To that extent!”
“Like I said, it was very urgent.”
Hwang Mun-yak was deeply moved, while Hwang Jong-ui narrowed his eyes.
He looked pretty relaxed to me.
But he didn’t dare open his mouth in front of his father.
After nodding repeatedly, Hwang Mun-yak spoke with a satisfied expression.
“I’ll take care of that issue myself. And Daoist, since I won’t be telling your sect, please tell me what it is you desire. I’ll do my utmost to…”
“Did you promise?”
At Chung Myung’s voice, which cut across his words, Hwang Mun-yak tilted his head slightly.
“Promise what?”
“That you won’t tell my sect.”
“Ah… of course. I’m still a merchant, after all; that sort of sense…”
Once again, before Hwang Mun-yak could finish speaking, Chung Myung took a book from his sleeve and opened it.
Hwang Mun-yak stared at the book, then asked with a puzzled face, “What’s that book?”
“Oh, nothing much. I’ve gotten old, so my memory’s a little fuzzy.”
Old?
You?
Chung Myung grinned and gave the book a little shake.
“So I wrote it down.”
“...Wrote what down?”
“You told me to say what I wanted.”
“I did.”
“So I wrote it down.”
Ah.
So that meant…
...all of that? Every single thing?
Chung Myung moistened a finger with his saliva and flipped the pages, his lips curling into a grin.
“All right, then. Shall we begin?”
“...”
“Right now?”
“...”
Hwang Mun-yak thought he had just made a very, very large mistake.