We Have Returned (3)
The memorial rites continued for three days.
For Ogeom, who had personally gone out to recover the remains, and for the other Mount Hua disciples who had welcomed the elder’s bones back home, the ceremony carried profound meaning.
But however deep the remorse swelling in their hearts, it could never compare to that of the Hyun generation.
Drip.
The charred, gray ash at the tip of the incense fell away. Hyun Jong watched the incense for a long moment, then lifted his gaze to the altar.
“There was a time when I….”
The other disciples had already returned to their quarters after the rites. Only Hyun Young and Hyun Sang remained there now.
“There was even a time when I resented them.”
Hyun Jong’s voice was thick with remorse.
“No… to be honest, I resented them countless times. There were times when the burden I carried was so heavy that I couldn’t endure it without resenting these men.”
“Jangmunin….”
Hyun Sang looked at Hyun Jong’s back with a pained expression. His figure before the altar seemed terribly lonely.
“But now that I’ve gathered the elder’s remains like this….”
Hyun Jong closed his eyes.
“I finally understand how selfish those resentful thoughts of mine were. I should never have resented them.”
Protecting a Mount Hua that was crumbling away had not been easy either. Anyone who knew Hyun Jong’s life could only understand the weight he had carried all this time.
Yet no matter how hard it had been, how could he resent those who had willingly thrown away even their lives to protect Mount Hua?
“They would understand.”
“….”
Hyun Young came closer and spoke quietly, lightly patting Hyun Jong’s shoulder.
“What kind of parent would truly curse and rage at their own child simply for being disappointing? They’d understand. And they’d praise you for doing well.”
“Would they…?”
“Yes. So straighten your shoulders. The elder generation did splendidly, yes, but we worked hard too. If they could see Mount Hua now, I’m sure they’d be satisfied.”
At Hyun Young’s words, Hyun Jong gave a small nod.
“I know that the ancestors protected Mount Hua.”
Then he lit a fresh incense stick and placed it in the burner, letting out a soft sigh.
“What sustained me through all those difficult years was the conviction that if I ever died and met the ancestors, I had to be able to say with pride that I had done my utmost.”
Fatigue and sorrow filled Hyun Jong’s eyes as they slowly closed.
“Now that I think about it, the spirit of Mount Hua that they preserved by sacrificing their lives… it was that spirit that carried me forward.”
When he finished speaking, he slowly rose. As he stood straight, the elders lined up half a step behind him.
Hyun Jong bowed first in silence, and the elders followed with solemn reverence.
Having paid their respects to the ancestors, they stepped back without a sound.
Even after leaving the Ancestral Hall, Hyun Jong could not bring himself to move right away.
“Shall I close it?”
“No.”
At Hyun Sang’s question, he shook his head.
“The ancestors returned to Mount Hua after a hundred years. They’ll want to look around a little longer, so keep the doors to the Ancestral Hall open for the next ten days.”
“Yes. I will do so.”
The scent of incense drifting from the Ancestral Hall brushed past his nose.
Until now, he had only thought of it as a place where the ancestral tablets were kept. But after everything that had happened, when he looked at the hall again, it felt as though the young hearts of the past lived within each worn tablet.
“Don’t worry.”
Hyun Jong smiled faintly.
“Mount Hua’s future is growing beautifully even as we speak. We’ll pass on everything you gave us to those who come after, so please watch over us in peace.”
Only after filling his eyes with the tablets of the ancestors did Hyun Jong turn away.
One day, he too would take one of those places. All he could hope for was to become a man who would not be ashamed to stand there beside the forebears who had gone before him.
“Let’s go.”
“Yes, Jangmunin.”
Hyun Jong began walking with a faint smile. Warm sunlight poured over his head.
“Hup, ta!”
Thud. Thud.
Chung Myung was already patting the top of a newly raised mound with both hands. Then he brushed the dirt from his palms carelessly and flopped down beside it.
Looking down, he could take in Mount Hua’s landscape at a glance.
“Ha… you brat. You should be honored. I even dug your grave with my own two hands, you little bastard. Back in the day, that would’ve been unthinkable! You know that?”
Whether Cheong Jin could hear this or not, it was impossible to say whether he’d curse or be grateful. Given the man’s personality, the chances of getting a nice response were practically zero.
“I really have become a saint. Making a grave for some bastard who died alone, of all things….”
Even as he grumbled, Chung Myung’s hands never really rested. Though he had sat there as if he were taking a break, his hands kept busily moving over the mound, shaving down bumps and filling in hollows.
Only after checking again and again that there were no uneven spots left did he finally nod in satisfaction.
Behind the grave, a large plum tree had grown enough to spread its branches over the mound.
It wasn’t actually a place blessed with generous sunlight, nor was the ground level and neat enough to look particularly fine. To be honest, it was a lousy burial spot.
In winter, the wind would cut like a blade, and frost would gather there every night.
“How is it? Do you like it?”
Still, Chung Myung never doubted for a second that Cheong Jin would like this place. Because this was the best spot for overlooking Mount Hua Sect.
If it were that bastard Cheong Jin, he would have definitely chosen this place for himself.
And more than anything….
- The sunset seen from Mount Hua is really magnificent, isn’t it? When I die, I’d like to die while watching this view.
That must have been when he said it here.
Chung Myung pulled a wine flask from his robe, popped the cork, and took a refreshing gulp.
“Kaaah!”
He wiped the wet corner of his mouth and looked back at the grave.
“What?”
Even though no one was there, Chung Myung spoke as if he were holding a conversation.
“A blanket? What blanket, you bastard! What kind of Daoist is trying to live in luxury! I made you a grave for dying alone—wasn’t that enough? You want me to cover you with grass too? Damn it!”
After glaring for a moment, Chung Myung finally snorted and began slowly pouring the wine over the yellow earth.
“At least have a drink. I can’t give you a grass blanket, but I can give you booze.”
Glug, glug, glug.
The wine splashed over the dirt, deepening the color of the mound even more. Watching that quietly, Chung Myung leaned against the grave and lay back with a flop.
“…Still, you know, you were lucky. The others didn’t even get to come back….”
The gentle sunlight that lit the world cast a shadow. As the plum tree’s shade covered his face, Chung Myung closed his eyes quietly.
“Don’t worry, you bastard.”
The low voice echoed softly.
“I’m not the same as I used to be anymore either. If you’ve died once, you should grow up at least a little. Well… maybe to you I still look like I haven’t grown up at all.”
Opening his eyes, Chung Myung looked up at the blue sky and muttered slowly.
“...Now I finally understand what you meant back then.”
The sky was so blue it hurt to look at it.
“The living have the burden of the living.”
He pushed himself up and silently gazed down at Mount Hua’s scenery. He could see the disciples moving about, and the pavilions that had changed from before. He tilted the wine flask in his hand and moistened his throat.
No matter how much you cling to the dead and cry or go mad, nothing changes.
The only thing the one left behind—the one who could not go with them—could do was one thing. To make sure their deaths were not meaningless.
“If Mount Hua doesn’t stand properly… your death and my martial brother’s death will both just be a waste.”
He couldn’t allow that.
To fulfill the wish they had held until the very last moment—that was the mission left to Chung Myung.
“Honestly….”
Chung Myung frowned slightly and clicked his tongue.
“You guys have always been a bunch of trouble, from way back. ‘Martial Uncle! Martial Uncle! The Zhongnan bastards are bullying us!’ ‘Martial Uncle! Kill the Heavenly Demon for us!’ ‘Martial Uncle! Please revive Mount Hua!’ ‘Martial Uncle! Martial Uncle! Martial Uncle!’ …You all wanted way too much, you damn idiots.”
- I never did that.
“No, you old bastard! You were the worst of all!”
After jabbing a finger at the sky, Chung Myung let out a long sigh. It almost felt as though he could hear the voices of the disciples chattering in his ear.
“...Cheong Jin.”
Chung Myung murmured quietly. His honest feelings spilled out with the words.
“I still don’t know why I’m the only one who came back alone.”
A clear stream of wine poured from the white flask into Chung Myung’s mouth.
The harsh scent of liquor spread everywhere, but strangely enough, he couldn’t taste much of it today.
Chung Myung, who had been about to say something, shut his mouth. His hardened lips seemed to hold the words back.
It was only after a while that his closed mouth slowly opened again.
“Don’t worry.”
The tips of his fingers, brushing the mound, were stained with the color of earth.
“...I’ll make Mount Hua the way it used to be, no matter what. I’ll never let your death become a pointless one.”
So when all of this was over, then….
Yes. Then….
“I….”
“Chung Myungaaaaa!”
Crack.
At the sudden cry, Chung Myung’s hand jerked and dug into the dirt of the grave.
“Where are you! Chung Myungaaaaaa!”
“Martial Brooooootheeeeer!”
“Chung Myungaaaaaaaa!”
“Damn it, you—!”
Chung Myung’s cheeks twitched violently as he ground his teeth.
Those brats never left a person alone for even a second! Seriously!
“What is it?”
Chung Myung shot to his feet and shouted, and Ogeom, who had been searching for him, all turned their heads at once and looked this way.
“Why are you up there?”
“What’s it to you? Why are you yelling for me like this?”
“The Sect Leader told us to bring you!”
“...Huh?”
At Yoon Jong’s words, Chung Myung tilted his head, and Dang Soso urged him on.
“Hurry and come down, Martial Brother!”
“It’s almost time to eat anyway. Come on, let’s go eat.”
“....”
Just as Chung Myung was about to roar again, he ended up bursting into a laugh instead.
“This is how I live, Cheong Jin.”
At this age, hanging around with these bright-faced brats.
“Tch.”
He poured the rest of the wine over the grave. The pungent smell of liquor quickly spread all around. Chung Myung muttered,
“I’m busy. Even if I’m right next to you, I can’t come often.”
There was no answer. But it felt as though it had already been heard.
“Still….”
There are days like that.
Days when, for no reason at all, the faces you miss keep floating before your eyes.
“On days like that, I’ll come by for a visit, so don’t go calling me heartless. I’m a busy man! Ahem!”
Chung Myung stuck his stomach out toward the grave and grinned.
“So….”
Then he slowly closed his eyes. A clear smile spread across his usually sharp face.
“Rest in peace, martial brother.”
With those words, Chung Myung slowly turned away.
His feet seemed reluctant to move….
“Hey, come on already! Why are you dragging your feet like that?!”
Damn it, seriously!
“I’m coming! I’m coming, you bastards! I said I’m coming!”
In the end, after shouting back, Chung Myung scowled miserably.
“Ugh, what a pain in the ass. They really never let a person rest for even a second, do they? Damn it!”
Cursing loudly, Chung Myung ran down the hill.
At the top of the hill he left behind, only a small grave mound remained alone.
For now it was still covered in dirt and looked rather plain, but soon green grass would grow over it. When autumn came, it would be buried under fallen leaves, and when winter arrived, it would turn white beneath fresh snow.
As days passed and seasons came and went, it would naturally blend into Mount Hua’s scenery.
And when many years had gone by….
Even if a time came when wind had eroded it and rain had packed it down so thoroughly that no one would know there had ever been a mound there, the spirit of Mount Hua would still watch over Mount Hua from that place forever.