A Rolling Stone Gathers No Moss (5)
“Bring it here.”
“Yes, Sect Leader.”
Un Geom reached out and took the teacup.
Plum blossom tea, made from dried plum petals, was one of Hyun Jong’s specialties. The fact that he had brought it out meant he had quite a lot to say today.
“How did it go?”
At the question, Un Geom glanced at Un Am before answering, silently asking whether it was all right to speak in front of him. Hyun Jong lifted his teacup and gave a short reply.
“It’s fine.”
“Yes, then.”
Un Geom spoke.
“Just as Sect Leader ordered, I did not intervene. And as a result…”
“And as a result?”
“There are a few problems developing.”
“Hmm.”
Hyun Jong nodded quietly.
“If Elder Hyun Young hadn’t gone there, the atmosphere would have turned even more urgent. As Sect Leader said, there is a subtle tension between the second-generation and third-generation disciples.”
“I thought so.”
Hyun Jong let out a sigh.
This was the result of their own choice.
We rushed it too much.
The gap between the Un generation and the Baek generation was too wide, while the gap between the Baek generation and the Cheong generation was too narrow. As a result, Yu I-seol, the youngest of the Baek generation, was almost the same age as Yoon Jong, the oldest of the Cheong generation.
Given that it was customary to block entry for a while so some distance could form between generations, this was really just a problem waiting to happen.
It couldn’t be helped.
When they accepted the third-generation disciples, Mount Hua simply didn’t have the room to take in more pupils. At the same time, the sect’s finances were growing more and more desperate. It had been only proper to halt admissions.
Then someone suggested that instead of continuing to take disciples, they should receive support from their families. That was where the problem had begun.
For Mount Hua, which had to cling to even a shredded stalk of straw just to stay afloat, there had been no choice but to secure money however they could.
Even a noble sect on the verge of collapse had its standards, and Mount Hua had still, in its own way, chosen disciples carefully. But at that time, the children of sponsoring families had been accepted without question or hesitation.
Thanks to that, the Cheong generation had been judged somewhat lacking in martial talent.
“In the past, those Cheong generation kids would never have dared challenge the Baek generation. But the Cheong generation now is not the same as before, is it?”
“That’s right.”
Was there a center of gravity or not?
In the life of a single person, it might not amount to much, but between one group and another, it could make a tremendous difference.
When the Cheong generation was held together by the vague center of Yoon Jong and Jo Gul, they were little more than Mount Hua’s third-generation disciples. But the Cheong generation gathered around Chung Myung would never be satisfied with just that.
People with a twenty-year age gap didn’t usually see each other as rivals, but people ten years apart had no choice but to be aware of one another.
“It is my inadequacy.”
When Un Geom lowered his head, Hyun Jong firmly shook his own.
“This is not your fault.”
“Sect Leader…”
“I was the one who insisted on building Baekmae Hall. And that was everyone’s decision, was it not? This matter, from the moment we built Baekmae Hall and brought in the third-generation disciples so early, had already been foreseen.”
These were not mere words of comfort to Un Geom.
By creating Baekmae Hall, Mount Hua had gained much. But where there are gains, there are also losses.
If the inheritance had continued as it always had, through master and disciple, then no matter how small the age difference might be, no one would have dared treat an older generation carelessly.
But the current third-generation disciples had received nothing from the Baek generation. Their learning came from Un Geom, and their training from their peers. Naturally, that meant the distance from their seniors had widened.
That was the greatest weakness of Baekmae Hall.
Un Am stole a look at him and then spoke carefully.
“Sect Leader. What do you intend to do?”
Hyun Jong took another sip of plum blossom tea without answering immediately. As the gentle fragrance settled over him, his mind seemed to calm a little.
“What can I do?”
“But if things continue like this…”
“People are simply like that by nature. If we keep suppressing them and forcing them along, do you think the knots in their hearts will vanish? Sometimes it is not such a bad thing to let them collide a little. In the end, won’t the current carry them forward anyway?”
“Sect Leader, these are your disciples.”
“If one truly set one’s mind to it, one could even alter the direction of a river. But if you force a stream to run where it should not, it may look fine at first, yet problems will eventually arise.”
Hyun Jong smiled faintly.
“Un Geom.”
“Yes, Sect Leader.”
“Let’s trust our children.”
“…”
Un Geom looked at Hyun Jong with a deeply complicated expression. The doubt still lingering in his face was plain to see.
Then Hyun Jong said something that went in a slightly different direction from what Un Geom had expected.
“Baek Cheon is not the sort to overdo things.”
“Pardon?”
“Do you not think so?”
Un Geom’s face went blank.
No, Sect Leader, that’s not it!
Baek Cheon isn’t the problem, Sect Leader! The problem is that damn Chung Myung!
Only then did Un Geom realize there was a vast gap between how the elders saw Chung Myung and how he himself saw Chung Myung.
Un Geom, the leader of Baekmae Hall, knew the sight of Chung Myung whipping the third-generation disciples into shape. But Hyun Jong saw Chung Myung as nothing more than a pretty little dog that brought blessings back to Mount Hua.
“Baek Cheon still has a proper head on his shoulders, doesn’t he? Even if his pride gets hurt and he blows up for a moment, he’s not the kind to ruin the bond between a junior and his martial uncle. He’ll smooth things over appropriately, so don’t worry too much.”
What?
Who’s smoothing over whom?
Baek Cheon calming Chung Myung down?
This is a disaster.
No wonder the Sect Leader has been so calm!
But explaining it now was impossible. No matter how he put it, Hyun Jong would never believe him.
And, to be honest, Un Geom wasn’t even sure how he could explain Chung Myung himself. The unease he felt when looking at him was nothing more than a vague sensation. When it came time to explain it, how was he supposed to make anyone understand?
“...Yes. I understand, Sect Leader.”
In the end, Un Geom could only back down.
“Un Geom.”
“Yes, Sect Leader.”
“Hwajong Jihoe is not far off now.”
At the mention of Hwajong Jihoe, Un Geom’s face darkened at once.
To speak plainly, Mount Hua’s disciples no longer held the same hostility toward Zhongnan as they once had. The old feelings Mount Hua had toward Zhongnan had originally sprung from rivalry.
But rivalry, by nature, was something that existed only between those of similar standing, or at least those not too far apart. Now that the difference in stature between Mount Hua and Zhongnan was as vast as heaven and earth, there were hardly any left who burned with sincere competitive spirit toward Zhongnan.
Still, no matter how little sense of rivalry remained, who would want to watch disciples of their own sect be trampled helplessly by another?
At least because they were still children, the difference was only that severe. Once one reached the level of a fully matured first-generation disciple or an elder, the gap would grow twice as wide.
“We have solved many problems. But we have not yet solved the most important one. We are only at the beginning. If we are to restore Mount Hua’s former glory, you will have to do much more.”
“I will keep it in mind, Sect Leader.”
“Good. Both of you may go.”
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
After Un Geom and Un Am bowed and withdrew, Hyun Jong quietly rose to his feet.
He opened the window at the back of the room and looked out at Yeonhwabong, where the snow had almost completely melted.
On the plum trees, which had grown considerably, tiny buds had begun to form. By the time Hwajong Jihoe began, spring plum blossoms would likely be in full bloom across the mountain.
Plums… plum blossoms.
They had recovered Chilmaegeom.
But Hyun Jong knew all too well, deep in his bones, that restoring the glory of the past with Chilmaegeom alone was impossible.
If only we had Plum Blossom Sword Art.
Hyun Jong squeezed his eyes shut.
Yet he also knew that wishing for what was gone would not change anything. This was not the time to go searching for what no longer existed; it was the time to firmly strengthen what they already had.
And still, the lingering regret in some corner of his heart refused to fade.
“Ancestors, please watch over Mount Hua.”
He had no way of knowing that one of those ancestors was already inside Mount Hua.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Unfortunately, Hyun Jong made two mistakes.
Of course, one of them was evaluating Chung Myung a little too favorably.
But from Mount Hua’s perspective, that wasn’t really a problem. Chung Myung’s ultimate goal, after all, was to make Mount Hua stronger. The more favorably Hyun Jong thought of him, the wider Chung Myung’s range of action became.
It hadn’t been intentional, but thanks to Hyun Jong’s favorable view of him, Mount Hua was developing even faster.
However, the other mistake was more serious than he had realized…
It was the fact that, contrary to Hyun Jong’s belief, Baek Cheon was not all that gentle a person.
“Something to… eat…”
“…”
“We should probably eat something.”
“…”
Mount Hua’s third-generation disciples were huddled together in Baekmae Hall, each of them looking half-dead.
Chung Myung’s training wrung everything out of a person. No one knew how he managed it, but that damned ghost of a man could measure exactly how much strength the third-generation disciples had left and squeeze out every last drop of it.
So when training ended, they all ended up stiff and rigid, like scraps of cloth dried to a crisp under the sun.
And yet, strangely enough, the third-generation disciples did not complain much about the brutal training that went on day after day.
Of course, every time they trained they felt like their breath was being knocked out of them, like they were stepping right up to the threshold of the underworld and back, but human beings were creatures of adaptation, were they not?
That terrible training, repeated day after day and then for a week straight, had somehow become bearable. By now, they had advanced to the point where, even if they stepped to the gates of death, they could exchange a friendly greeting with the ferryman and come back.
- Iron grows stronger the more it is hammered, and people grow stronger the more they’re rolled around! Rolling stones gather no moss!
People don’t grow moss in the first place, you insane bastard.
Even worse, the third-generation disciples were proving Chung Myung’s words perfectly with their whole bodies. They could feel themselves changing day by day.
They were also beginning to understand what it meant for training to suit the body.
Only one thing remained a problem.
For the third-generation disciples, who had believed that if they just endured Chung Myung’s training, everything would be fine, a new bolt of lightning had just dropped on their heads.
“I feel like I’m gonna die.”
“That bastard… seriously, if he weren’t our martial uncle, I’d—”
“This is too much, isn’t it?”
The ones tormenting them now were none other than the Baek generation. In other words, the second-generation disciples.
That day, after Chung Myung had clashed with Baek Cheon, the second-generation disciples had begun to pressure the third-generation disciples with uncanny subtlety. They found fault with everything, clearly determined to make things difficult for them.
“Why the hell are those people acting like this?”
“You really have to ask?”
“Grrr…”
Everyone’s eyes turned at once toward a single place. The person sitting there was obvious.
“Huh?”
Chung Myung, who had caught the gazes of his martial brothers, tilted his head.
“Why are you all looking at me?”
“…”
“…”
This bastard definitely didn’t have a shred of conscience.