This Is My Role (3)
Beop Gye’s fury did not arise solely from personal feeling. As the monk who held the office of Shaolin’s disciplinary elder, this was a matter that went beyond private emotion.
“Now.”
More sharply than ever, he clipped the word out, putting steel into his voice. He had to drive the point into Hye Yeon’s head.
“Are you saying you intend to defy the abbot’s order now?”
Hye Yeon wore a faint smile that Beop Gye could not quite fathom.
“I do not know how I should answer that.”
“...What?”
“As a Buddhist, I simply act as my heart leads me. How can that be called defiance?”
Beop Gye’s face twisted at once.
“No matter how much of a Buddhist you call yourself, you are still a disciple of Shaolin. Do you truly not understand what it means to defy the abbot’s command, or what the consequences will be?”
“...”
This time, Hye Yeon did not answer either. Beop Gye said, his voice thick with anger, “That is insubordination.”
“...”
“And insubordination without just cause is punished by expulsion. Do you know what expulsion from Shaolin means?”
Hye Yeon nodded.
“Yes.”
“You know?”
“Yes, I do.”
Beop Gye narrowed his eyes.
“A disciple cast out of Shaolin is sentenced to Dangeun-chammaek.”
At the word, Hye Yeon’s face went slightly pale.
“His dantian is shattered, and the tendons and veins of his limbs are severed. He will never be able to use martial arts again. Even so, you intend to commit the crime of betraying your sect and accept that expulsion?”
There was not the slightest hint of mercy in his tone.
Hye Yeon looked up at the sky for a moment. Beop Jeong and Beop Gye were, in a way, the ones who had opened the path of life for him. To see such disappointment and rage from them was not easy to endure.
But...
If it is not right, then even that is only attachment.
When he lowered his head again, there was no hesitation left in Hye Yeon’s face. His eyes were calm and clear.
“If that is Shaolin’s law, and if that is the way I may repay the grace Shaolin has shown me, then I will follow it.”
“This foolish—”
Beop Gye’s face went deathly pale. He had never imagined Hye Yeon would give an answer like that.
Dangeun-chammaek.
The cruel punishment that severed the tendons of the hands and feet, shattered the dantian, and destroyed the meridians. Anyone who received it would never be able to use martial arts again.
No—worse than that.
A person who lost their inner power and could no longer use their hands and feet was less than an ordinary commoner. Who could bear becoming someone who could not even lift their own chopsticks?
“Have you lost your mind! What on earth are you thinking...!”
In the end, Beop Gye could not hold back and shouted, but Beop Jeong lifted a hand to stop him.
“Abbot!”
Even with Beop Gye’s urgent cry, Beop Jeong quietly shook his head and restrained him. Then he looked steadily at Hye Yeon. His gaze was cold. It made clear that he was restraining Beop Gye not out of any affection for Hye Yeon.
“I will ask you one thing, Hye Yeon.”
At Beop Jeong’s voice, Hye Yeon flinched slightly. But he quickly composed himself and nodded.
“Yes, Abbot.”
“What is your reason?”
“...”
Beop Jeong continued in that same frigid tone.
“You need only follow Shaolin. Then many things will be given to you. The post of Shaolin’s future abbot, the strongest man under heaven, and unrivaled glory—all of it would be prepared for you.”
“...”
“And yet you insist on defying my order and going as far as expulsion. Is your reason truly so great that you would throw away everything you have trained for?”
Coldness dripped from Beop Jeong’s eyes. It was not the sort of look one should give a disciple under his care. When had Hye Yeon ever received such eyes, such words, from him?
And yet, at that moment, a quiet smile appeared at the corner of Hye Yeon’s mouth. Strangely enough, Beop Jeong’s words seemed to settle the confusion in his heart.
As if answering a Zen riddle, he asked Beop Jeong in return, “What is that all worth?”
“...What did you say?”
“It is attachment, and emptiness.”
“...”
Beop Jeong’s face stiffened. It was as though he could not even imagine hearing such words from Hye Yeon.
“The abbot’s seat, the strongest man under heaven, unrivaled glory...”
Hye Yeon repeated the words softly, then shook his head.
“You asked for my reason?”
And he answered calmly.
“Because I am a Buddhist, not a martial artist.”
“...”
“Since you have said it so plainly, Abbot, I think I understand my own heart more clearly now. Abbot, why speak of glory? How can there be glory for one who walks the Buddhist path? The road a Buddhist must take is simply a road for all living beings. How could glory have any place there?”
For a moment, Beop Jeong only stared at him, as if struck speechless.
“What is the martial skill accumulated in this one body compared to that? Even if one possessed martial arts that could reach the heavens, it would still be nothing more than a crude trick if it could not save even one living soul.”
“You little—”
Beop Jeong’s hand began to tremble.
He could endure many things.
But what humiliation could be greater than being lectured by a disciple of Shaolin?
“I am a Buddhist before I am a martial artist. If there is no Buddhist path for me to walk there, then why would you drag me there? Even if my body sits in paradise, if my heart is in hell, how is that any different from hell itself?”
“...Hye Yeon.”
“If you insist on taking it back...”
Hye Yeon slowly nodded, his face serene and without even the shadow of delusion.
“Then take it back. Even if I am driven out of Shaolin, even if I lose my martial arts, this humble monk will not cease to be a Buddhist. Would that not be enough?”
With a bright little smile, Hye Yeon lowered both hands.
He was compliant, as though he had no intention of resisting at all.
At that, it was Beop Gye who was thrown into confusion.
Who was Hye Yeon?
He was a genius among geniuses, the hope of a thousand-year-old Shaolin. Everyone believed he would raise the current Shaolin to an entirely new height. He was Shaolin’s future.
And wasn’t it because of the expectation that his growth would benefit them that they had allowed Shaolin’s disciple to take that unorthodox excursion in the first place?
And now that same boy was saying he would leave Shaolin of his own accord. He was even willing to throw away the martial arts he had stacked up layer after layer within himself.
Why on earth?
It was something beyond his understanding.
Everyone in the world wanted to become a disciple of Shaolin. And yet the one who had once drawn everyone’s envy was now trying to kick away the very path he had been given.
“This foolish brat...”
A sorrowful voice slipped from Beop Gye’s mouth, the voice of a man who should have been the sternest of all. But unlike him, Beop Jeong’s eyes only grew colder and colder.
“Is that truly your wish?”
“It is, Abbot.”
He stared at Hye Yeon in silence.
If this had been any other time, he might have laughed off Hye Yeon’s stubbornness. But the timing was disastrous. To Beop Jeong, it looked no different from the disciple he had cherished turning his back on him and Shaolin in favor of Mount Hua.
“Mount Hua has clouded your eyes.”
“Mount Hua simply showed me my path.”
“I should never have sent you to Mount Hua.”
“I am truly grateful you did.”
“...To the very end.”
A blade-like killing intent appeared in Beop Jeong’s face.
The one who leads a sect must be endlessly gentle, but at times he must also be utterly cold. If he did not punish one who had committed betrayal before the abbot, Shaolin’s law itself would shake.
No.
Am I angry because this child has broken the law? Or am I simply unable to bear the wound to my pride?
For an instant, Beop Jeong desperately shook off the temptation that had come to him.
“Beop Gye.”
“...Yes.”
“Expel Hye Yeon.”
“A-Abbot!”
“Charge disciple Hye Yeon with the crime of betraying the sect and reclaim everything Shaolin has bestowed upon him. As Shaolin’s disciplinary elder, carry out the punishment.”
“A-Abbot!”
Unable to bear the thought of crippling Hye Yeon’s martial arts, Beop Gye desperately tried to salvage the situation.
“This is not Shaolin. This is Mount Hua! Abbot, if you must punish Hye Yeon—no, if you must punish the criminal, then at least bring him back to Shaolin first and...”
“Is there any place where discipline cannot be enforced?”
“...B-But—”
“Or what?”
Beop Jeong glared as if he meant to bore straight through Beop Gye with his eyes.
“Are you saying that when Shaolin carries out its law, it must look to Mount Hua for approval?”
“N-no, that is not what I mean. How could I dare harbor such vile thoughts?”
“Then execute it.”
“...”
“Now!”
Beop Gye clenched his eyes shut. If Beop Jeong was going to be this resolute, there was nothing he could do to turn things around.
How did things end up like this?
Everything had gone wrong. The timing of everything had been terrible.
You idiot... You should at least have run away! Why did you have to show up in front of the abbot on your own like this?
If only he had appeared after Beop Jeong’s anger had cooled, there might have been another path.
Beop Gye opened his tightly shut eyes. He could see Mount Hua’s disciples already swarming closer after realizing a commotion had broken out. Perhaps what the abbot wanted was to display Shaolin’s dignity before them. But...
If the price of that is Hye Yeon, then what we lose is far too great, Abbot.
Whatever the truth of it, he could not defy the abbot’s command. Beop Gye gritted his teeth and said to Hye Yeon, “The criminal will kneel.”
The moment he spoke, Hye Yeon’s knees struck the ground. Beop Gye forcibly dragged his unwilling feet forward and moved behind him.
“What’s he doing?”
“Why is Monk Hye Yeon like that?”
Mount Hua’s disciples muttered and frowned at the sight, but Hye Yeon was still a Shaolin disciple. They could not interfere in Shaolin’s affairs.
Even so, a few sharp-eyed ones sensed something was badly wrong and immediately sprinted toward the sect leader’s quarters.
“Carry it out.”
Beop Gye raised the edge of his palm. Blue energy gathered along the blade of his hand. This hand, sharper than a sword, would sever Hye Yeon’s muscles and cripple his dantian.
“Hye Yeon.”
Unable to bring himself to strike, Beop Gye tried one last time to persuade him.
“If you change your mind now, the abbot may still show you mercy.”
But all he could see was Hye Yeon’s unyielding back as he shook his head.
“Elder, do not hesitate.”
“...”
Beop Gye bit his lip hard.
“What did you see in Mount Hua that made you so foolish? What could Mount Hua’s teachings possibly have that Shaolin’s teachings do not? It’s nothing but wicked temptation.”
To that, Hye Yeon answered calmly, “I did not really learn anything from Mount Hua. They never tried to teach me. What could I learn from those who never tried to teach me?”
“Then why! Why are you doing this?”
“Because I simply realized it.”
“...Realized?”
“Yes.”
Hye Yeon, still kneeling, smiled gently.
“What it was that I could not find in Shaolin—benefiting others.”
“...”
“I have found that the path I sought lies here. Then why should I hesitate? If you truly care for me, Elder, then do not hesitate. That is the way to protect me.”
Beop Gye closed his eyes.
As a Shaolin elder, these were words he could never accept. And yet as one who walked the Buddhist path, he felt he could understand them.
I don’t know.
It was a sorrowful thing that Hye Yeon defied his words. And yet, as a Buddhist on his own path, to establish his own doctrine was nothing short of joyous. In that contradictory storm of feeling, Beop Gye’s heart burned black.
But...
I am a Shaolin elder.
There must be no hesitation.
“The criminal...”
Beop Gye bit his lip.
When he lifted his head for a moment, he saw Beop Jeong nod without a word.
“I will take back, in Shaolin’s name, everything Shaolin has given you.”
“Amita...”
The moment Hye Yeon’s prayer ended, Beop Gye’s hand, now wrapped in sharp qi, slashed down toward Hye Yeon’s ankle.
“Aaagh!”
“M-Monk!”
Mount Hua’s disciples all screamed at once.
They had never imagined such a thing would happen and dashed forward, pounding the ground in panic, but by then it was already too late for them to reach him.
“N-nooooo!”
The instant Beop Gye’s hand was about to sever Hye Yeon’s ankle tendons—
KRAAAANG!
With a deafening crash, Beop Gye clutched his own hand and staggered back several steps. The moment his hand was about to strike Hye Yeon’s ankle, sword qi shot in from somewhere and slapped his hand away.
“How dare you!”
This was a Shaolin affair. Who dared interfere in Shaolin’s business with force?
When the shocked and furious Beop Gye turned his head, what he saw was a figure walking toward them.
Plum Blossom Sword Hero.
Chung Myung was sheathing his drawn sword as he walked straight toward them.
“Who,” Chung Myung growled, “gave you bastards permission to pull this crap on Mount Hua?”
“...”
“Say something. You goddamn bastards.”
The rage he unleashed began to sweep across everything around them.