Oh God, Mount Hua Has Fallen (3)
Hyeon Jong, the current sect leader of Mount Hua, looked at Unam with a strangely unreadable expression.
“You’re saying he climbed all the way up here alone?”
“Yes, Sect Leader.”
“And then he fainted in Okcheon-won?”
“Yes. From the look of him, his clothes were in such rags that I doubt he’d even been eating properly. If he really came up Mount Hua alone, it would only make sense that he collapsed from exhaustion.”
“I suppose so.”
Hyeon Jong gave a faint, ambiguous smile.
Mount Hua’s steep, brutal paths were hard enough for grown men. If a child’s body had climbed here alone, the strain would have been beyond words.
“Where is the child now?”
“We moved him to Snow Plum Hall. Just in case, I called for Unjin to check his pulse, but he says there’s nothing seriously wrong beyond his depleted strength.”
“That’s a relief.”
Hyeon Jong nodded quietly.
Whatever his circumstances, anyone who entered Mount Hua could be considered Mount Hua’s guest. It was not something he wanted to happen to such a person—that they should come to harm inside the sect.
“For a child to climb Mount Hua alone is a strange thing. Did he say why he came?”
“I intended to ask after having him pay respects at Okcheon-won, but he fainted before I could learn anything.”
“I see.”
“But there is something else…”
“Hmm?”
Unam frowned slightly and explained what had happened earlier.
After hearing the whole story, Hyeon Jong tilted his head.
“Sold off this?”
“Yes.”
“The child said that?”
“He did. I considered brushing it off, but it struck me as odd.”
“Hmm.”
Hyeon Jong slowly stroked his beard.
“Perhaps I misheard him. But Sect Leader, that wasn’t the only strange thing. Before I even spoke, that child asked me whether I was a Mount Hua priest. Doesn’t that mean he came here already knowing this was Mount Hua?”
“It does.”
“Could he possibly have some ulterior motive…”
Hyeon Jong burst into a hearty laugh.
“Are you worried?”
“No, it’s just…”
“What’s so strange about him knowing this is Mount Hua? This was once a Taoist sect that made its name throughout the world. It wouldn’t be strange at all for someone to remember it.”
“Yes.”
“And he may simply be the descendant of someone who once descended the mountain.”
“Ah…”
Unam nodded.
As the sect declined, many people left Mount Hua. In truth, those who stayed behind and vowed to share Mount Hua’s fate were the minority. If that child was descended from one of them, then naturally he would know that Mount Hua still stood here.
“You only need to worry when there’s something worth stealing. What could he possibly be scheming for in a place like this?”
“…”
A trace of sorrow flickered across Unam’s face. But Hyeon Jong did not notice it. He only gave a self-mocking murmur.
“Sold off, huh.”
Hyeon Jong smiled faintly.
“Yes… I see. He may really be the descendant of someone who once descended the mountain. That would mean he knows what Okcheon-won used to be like. How embarrassing for the child.”
“Sect Leader…”
“Enough. If it’s true that we sold things off, then there’s no point being ashamed of it.”
Unam swallowed dryly.
I’d better leave out the second part.
He was rather curious what expression the Sect Leader would make if he knew the child had not simply said “sold off,” but had actually muttered, “They sold this off, those lunatics.”
But there was no way he could say that out loud.
“Understood. Bring him to me once he wakes.”
“Yes, Sect Leader.”
Hyeon Jong fell into deep thought.
Sold off, huh.
It felt like someone had rubbed salt into an old wound.
The ancestors will never forgive me.
No matter how much it had been done as a means to save Mount Hua, he had sold off the ancestral tablets of Okcheon-won—things that were, in a sense, the very history of Mount Hua itself. What face could he possibly use to stand before the ancestors?
It was something he had tried hard not to think about, and yet…
Hyeon Jong’s expression darkened a little more.
I just hope Mount Hua’s name does not end with my generation.
He did not even dare dream of ruling the world once more. If only Mount Hua did not collapse under his watch, that alone would be enough to leave him without regrets.
But even that small wish had become harder to hold onto with each passing day.
Unam, who had been cautiously watching Hyeon Jong’s face, quietly rose and bowed.
“I will take my leave.”
“Mm.”
Just as he was about to ask permission and leave, Unam suddenly turned back and asked, “Sect Leader…”
“Yes?”
“If that child were to wish to enter the sect, what would you do?”
“Enter the sect…”
Mount Hua was not accepting new disciples at the moment. But if someone had ties to the past, things might be different.
“We are not taking in new disciples.”
“Understood.”
After nodding and seeing Unam off, Hyeon Jong tilted his head slightly and spoke again.
“Wait a moment.”
“Yes, Sect Leader.”
“What was that child’s name again?”
“Cheong Myung. He said his name was Cheong Myung.”
“Cheong Myung…”
Hyeon Jong’s expression changed subtly.
“I see. You may go.”
“Yes.”
Once Unam had completely left, Hyeon Jong spoke quietly to himself.
“Cheong Myung…”
The child who had come to Mount Hua at a time like this bore the same name as the past Sword Prime’s taoist title.
“How strange.”
It was certainly strange.
“If only that one had lived…”
If only Cheong Myung, the Plum Blossom Sword Saint who had once stood among the three greatest swordsmen of the world, had survived that bloodbath, Mount Hua’s fate would have been very different from what it was now. It was a meaningless assumption, and yet Hyeon Jong could not bring himself to let it go.
“Boundless Heavenly Venerable.”
Only Hyeon Jong’s solitary taoist name echoed mournfully through the hall.
“Those damn bastards.”
Cheong Myung spat out a curse.
“Nothing else to sell, so they sold off a sacred relic? A sacred relic?”
Heat surged up inside him.
There were things that could be sold even if it meant starving to death, and things that could not.
No matter how much the Amhyangbaekmaehwa looked like a worthless ornament, and no matter how all the people who should have explained the true value of the White Plum Blossom to the younger generation had long since died… even so!
Even if Mount Hua had to go under, they should have at least—
“No, it’s still better than the sect collapsing.”
If the ancestors had seen Cheong Myung now, they would have barked at him. What was so important about a thing outside the body? No matter how meaningful an object might be, a Taoist should not cling to material things.
He knew that. He knew it, damn it!
“Grrrgh…”
Cheong Myung groaned and looked down. The wide-open view below him seemed to cool the fire in his chest a little.
In the past, whenever he had something suffocating on his mind, he would come up Yeonhwabong and look out over Mount Hua. Seeing the peaks jutting up like swords and the endless mountain ranges beyond them always made his spirit rise with a natural grandeur.
But now…
“Grrrrgh.”
Grand spirit, my ass. It only made him want to turn over the place all over again.
Every glimpse of Mount Hua’s halls below only made him feel like his insides were rotting away.
“The disciples are fewer.”
More precisely, it was not merely fewer—it was practically ruined.
“And they sold off anything worth money.”
If Okcheon-won was in that state, the rest was obvious even without looking. The only place left to touch at the very end was Okcheon-won.
After seeing the pitiful state of Okcheon-won, he could understand why everything else had fallen into such disrepair. They probably hadn’t had the money to fix anything. If they were desperate enough for cash, they’d even rip out the bluestone from the training yard and sell it.
“...Fine. Whatever else, fine! I get it!”
But!
Why the hell was the martial arts in such a state?
Cheong Myung started rolling across the ground.
Rolling off a sheer cliff was not something a sane person would do, but at the moment, he had no room to think about sanity.
He felt like he’d die from anger before he ever died from falling off the cliff.
“An old man, and he’s not even as good as a third-generation disciple?”
He was talking about Unam.
Normally, Cheong Myung should not have been able to gauge Unam’s martial level. No matter how, in his past life, Cheong Myung had reached the supreme level that earned him a place among the three greatest swordsmen in the world, he was now little more than a blank-faced scholar.
And yet Cheong Myung could see Unam’s level clearly.
Because Cheong Myung was that strong in the first place?
Not a chance.
It was because Unam was far too weak now. If he were transported back to the era when Cheong Myung was active, Unam would probably not even have been granted a taoist title. He’d have ended up as a student studying doctrine instead of martial arts.
At the very least, for someone who looked old enough to be a second-generation disciple, he had a cultivation level not even fit for a third-generation disciple.
“...What the hell am I supposed to do with this?”
He had no clue where he was supposed to begin. It was almost better to start from the ground up. Then he could ignore everything else and just do whatever he wanted.
But this was Mount Hua, wasn’t it?
Should I just tell them I’m that Cheong Myung?
They’d just curse him out.
If he wasn’t beaten and thrown out, he should count himself lucky.
Put the roles reversed, Cheong Myung wouldn’t believe it either.
And even if they did believe him—fine, suppose they were absurdly rational and understood the stories he told, his knowledge of martial arts, and accepted that he was the Cheong Myung from the past.
That still wouldn’t be a good thing.
I don’t have the strength right now to protect my own knowledge.
Cheong Myung was like a treasure rolling around on the ground. He possessed enough knowledge to revive an entire sect, yet he had no power to protect himself.
Cheong Myung knew it well.
His senior brothers had all been impeccable Taoists, but not every priest of Mount Hua was pure and kind. Even Cheong Myung himself was about as far from goodness as you could get without crossing an entire loop around Zhongyuan.
What if one of them got ugly ideas and subdued Cheong Myung?
They’d strip him of everything he knew and bury him somewhere, ending his second life full of resentment.
That won’t happen.
Which meant…
“So I have to rebuild Mount Hua without revealing that I’m Cheong Myung.”
At least until he recovered enough power to protect himself.
“...Honestly, fighting the Demonic Sect again would be easier.”
He let out an absurd laugh at the sheer difficulty of it all.
He had to teach martial arts if he wanted to save Mount Hua, but he could never let them find out he knew martial arts. What kind of nonsense was that?
If he had any temper left, he’d have thrown it all aside and walked away.
But…
With a heavy sigh, Cheong Myung turned and looked down. Mount Hua’s shape, half-hidden beneath the clouds, came into view.
“...If I’d known it would come to this, I would’ve stopped causing trouble for once.”
He owed Mount Hua a debt.
The reason he had been able to strut around as if he were one of the three greatest swordsmen of the world was because of everything Mount Hua had given him.
But he had never given anything back. He’d only given them the honor of having slain the Heavenly Demon. And because of that, Mount Hua had fallen—had come to the brink of destruction.
How could he possibly turn his back on Mount Hua now?
As a human being, he simply could not.
“Oh, senior brother…”
Cheong Myung lifted his head. In the clear blue sky above, it almost looked as if his elder brother from the sect were smiling down at him.
And yet, it is Mount Hua.
“...Hngh.”
Cheong Myung shook his head hard and stood up.
Just to avoid being beaten to death by his senior brother when he reached the afterlife, he had to somehow make this collapsing Mount Hua fit to be called a sect again.
“Damn it, what do you mean there’s something impossible?”
Back when he’d first learned martial arts at Mount Hua, who had ever thought he would become Mount Hua’s number one expert? Everyone had just been glad if he didn’t go around causing trouble!
He was Cheong Myung, the one who had endured those merciless stares and still become Mount Hua’s strongest! Challenging the impossible was practically his specialty. So, since things had come to this…
“I’m going to make the greatest sect under heaven!”
Cheong Myung’s eyes blazed.
And at that very moment, everyone at Mount Hua shuddered for some unknown reason.