Were You Hoping for Something? (3)
Whoosh!
In one breath, Beop Jeong shot forward more than ten jang, his feet striking the ground again and again without pause. He vaulted over mountains blocking his path in an instant and crossed rushing rivers in a single leap, driving himself onward and onward.
And behind him followed a group of monks dressed in Shaolin’s symbolic yellow robes.
Three Hundred Warrior Monks of Shaolin.
What in the world could fail to feel crushed beneath such a sight? It was a scene that seemed to embody Shaolin’s power itself.
But…
The faces of the monks trailing behind Beop Jeong were all pale and drained, utterly unlike the lofty reputation they carried. Their legs, kicking against the ground, shook as though they might buckle at any moment.
“A-abbot!”
Beop Gye, running right behind Beop Jeong, called out in a strained voice. But Beop Jeong did not even turn his head.
“Abbot! The disciples can’t keep this up any longer. We need to slow down!”
Only then did Beop Jeong’s head snap around. The emotion on his face was not concern, but blazing anger.
“We cannot slow down.”
“People will fall behind!”
“It doesn’t matter!”
At that cold, cutting voice, Beop Gye flinched before he realized it.
The way Beop Jeong had his lips clenched tight seemed to speak of his resolve for him.
“Leave behind whoever falls. They can rejoin us at the Yangtze later! Right now, the important thing is reaching the Yangtze as fast as possible!”
“But…”
“This is a matter of urgency!”
“But, Abbot! Even if we make it to the Yangtze, if the disciples are too exhausted to fight, won’t that all be for nothing?”
“Didn’t I tell you it doesn’t matter?” Beop Jeong said firmly. “If Namgung Se-ga weren’t there, that would be one thing. But as long as Namgung is there, we don’t need our full strength. It’s enough if we can overwhelm the Water Bandit Sect!”
“……Th-that may be true, but…”
“So stop wasting time and pick up the pace!”
“……Understood!”
Blue light burst from Beop Jeong’s eyes.
This can’t go on.
He had already made more than one mistake. If the situation got any worse here, there might really be no turning back. He could no longer stand by and watch Shaolin’s reputation crash into the mud under his generation.
In times of crisis, there was always opportunity.
The current situation was too disastrous to describe even as the worst of the worst, but if Shaolin arrived at the Yangtze in time, defeated the Water Bandit Sect, and rescued Namgung Se-ga, then they could reverse everything in one stroke.
That was why Beop Jeong could not afford to let this chance slip away. He absolutely could not.
Faster!
All they had to do was arrive before that Jang Il-so.
Military strength was always relative. It would be impossible for Shaolin alone to stand against the entire Saperyeon. But if their opponent was only the Water Bandit Sect?
There would be no need to wait for the Gong or the Peng families; joining forces with Namgung alone should be enough to suppress the Yangtze.
No, even if that proved difficult, they could at least evacuate Namgung Se-ga from that island without harm.
As for the rest, they could deal with it once the other sects joined them.
Right now, the most important thing was reaching the Yangtze before Maninbang did.
“Hurry! Immediately!”
“Yes!”
Shaolin, transformed into a yellow streak, raced toward the Yangtze and kept on racing.
* * *
“So, what I’m saying is…”
“……”
At the soft continuation of the sentence, the cheeks that had puffed up like buns twitched faintly before swelling again in indignation.
…He’s going to explode.
Even so, he’s in front of the sect leader. Surely not.
No, no. He really does look like he’s about to pop.
But the cheeks, which had been puffed up as if they might burst at any second, gradually subsided together with the veins throbbing in his temples.
I’ll endure it. I’ll endure it.
Ooooh.
You’ve grown up, Chung Myung…! This martial uncle is moved.
Hyun Jong, watching Chung Myung’s expression carefully, gave a low cough.
“So, this is unavoidable, is it not?”
“……”
“I’m not saying I want to go. It’s just that… cough. We’re still a righteous sect in name, and it wouldn’t do to refuse this kind of request…”
Chung Myung’s eyes slowly dropped to the table. A single letter resting on the tea table came into view.
“So…”
“Yes, yes.”
“You mean Uncle Tang… no, Lord Tang Gun-ak is…”
“That’s right.”
“Requesting support?”
“Exactly.”
Hyun Jong’s face brightened as he nodded.
“So the sect leader wants to go?”
“Cough. It’s not a matter of wanting to go or not. Had we not already agreed on this?”
“……”
“This is not a matter of profit, but of trust and obligation. We can’t help it, can we?”
Now Chung Myung’s eyes began to bulge with veins, too. Hyun Jong quietly turned his head and stared up at the distant ceiling. He was the sect leader, and Chung Myung was far, far younger than him, but at times like this, it was honestly frightening to look him in the face.
“Grrr…”
A groaning sound escaped Chung Myung’s mouth.
The situation was simple enough. Chung Myung had declared that he would absolutely not get involved in the Yangtze affair. Of course, Mount Hua’s position was decided by Hyun Jong, not Chung Myung, but as long as Chung Myung had a legitimate reason, even Hyun Jong could not simply overturn his will at random.
But now, a single letter from the Yangtze had handed Hyun Jong a reason that had not existed before.
“You need more manpower to evacuate the people in the Yangtze?”
“That’s right.”
Chung Myung scrubbed his face with both hands.
“Grrr, my mouth’s a curse! This damn mouth is a curse!”
And then he started smacking his own lips over and over with his hand. Baek Cheon watched him for a moment, then scratched lightly at his chin.
So it’s come to this.
Earlier, while discussing the Yangtze matter with Tang Gun-ak, Chung Myung had said something like this:
— Even if Wuhan can’t be helped, there’ll be people living around the Yangtze basin who’ll want to move to Sichuan if we support them properly.
Tang Gun-ak had reacted badly to the idea of abandoning the common people he had protected for so long and returning to Sichuan. So, as part of the agreement for the Tang Family’s withdrawal from the Yangtze, they had decided that any commoners in the Yangtze who requested relocation would be given land to settle on in Sichuan. Mount Hua would actively support that effort.
Tang Gun-ak had ultimately accepted Chung Myung’s proposal, and they were now in the middle of moving the Yangtze commoners to Sichuan.
But…
“No! How can you not have enough manpower? This is the Sichuan Tang Family! Huh? The Tang Family! What, is our family some neighborhood of relatives all living together or something? How can you be short on manpower?”
“Hasn’t the situation changed?”
“Ugh! Those damn Namgung bastards! They’re never any help! I should’ve wiped them out back then!”
Jo Gul whispered to Yoon Jong.
“When exactly is ‘back then’ supposed to be?”
“Probably when the Yangtze tragedy happened? No, but I’m impressed the Taoist brat can even say something like that. That’s just Chung Myung for you.”
If it had been any other time, Chung Myung would have shot Yoon Jong a glare for that, but right now he didn’t have the presence of mind.
The situation in the Yangtze was changing faster than he had expected. He had anticipated the Water Bandit Sect occupying Maehwado, but when he first drew up the plan, even Chung Myung hadn’t thought of “that lunatic’s” existence.
With an unexpected variable thrown in, matters had begun to move at least a full month faster than he had predicted.
In other words…
“Normally, we would’ve been able to relocate everyone who wanted to move over the course of about a month, but as you know, the situation in the Yangtze changed. With the schedule brought forward and the commoners themselves realizing how much worse things have become, more of them naturally want to go to Sichuan.”
“……”
“And it’s not as if we can say we bear no responsibility for this. Besides, this was done under the name of the Heavenly Alliance, not the Tang Family, wasn’t it? I’m the alliance leader in name if nothing else, so I can’t just throw the Heavenly Alliance’s work at Lord Tang and pretend it isn’t my problem…”
“Sect leader.”
“Hm?”
“……You just want to go help, don’t you?”
“Cough, cough.”
Hyun Jong gave a loud, embarrassed cough, his face reddening.
Honestly, this man changes the moment he hears the words common people.
He was hopeless. But…
That’s what makes him good.
Chung Myung liked that hopelessness in Hyun Jong. No—he respected it deeply. Being hopeless when you don’t know any better is foolishness, but being hopeless even when you do know better is something else entirely.
“So, at the very least, responding to the request for support is…”
“……”
Still wearing a sullen expression, Chung Myung’s impatience was met by Hyun Jong as he hurriedly added,
“We’re absolutely not saying we should go stir up anything in the Yangtze. All we need to do is quickly evacuate the commoners there, isn’t that right? Do you think Shaolin or the other sects racing toward the Yangtze will have the luxury to worry about that much?”
“……That bald guy doesn’t usually care about things like that anyway. He doesn’t have the brains for it.”
“……R-right. No brains.”
Yoon Jong quietly asked Baek Cheon,
“Does the sect leader even know what he’s saying right now?”
“Would he?”
“……”
Hyun Jong, who had unconsciously blurted out something that should never be said about a bald man, once again nudged Chung Myung with a careful tone.
“So before the damage grows any worse… shouldn’t we do something about this?”
Chung Myung let out a long sigh.
I didn’t see this coming.
This war had an even greater chance of spreading than he had thought. If so, then who would suffer the greatest losses in it?
Shaolin? The Water Bandit Sect? Namgung Se-ga? Or Maninbang?
Not a chance.
The ones who would suffer the most were the common people living around the Yangtze. The martial artists fighting there had their own purposes and threw themselves into this matter of their own will, so they had no right to complain if they died. But what crime had the ordinary people, living their quiet lives, committed to deserve being swept up in the flames of war?
That was why Hyun Jong was acting like this. To reduce, by even one, the number of tragic deaths that might otherwise occur.
“Chung Myung.”
“……”
“Chung Myung.”
“……”
“Chung Myung-aaah.”
“Agh! Fine, I get it, I get it!”
Chung Myung shouted in exasperation. Then he shot everyone a fierce glare.
“But on one condition! No matter what happens, we do not get involved in the war in the Yangtze! Absolutely not! Even if those bastards attack first, I’m running away, not fighting! I’m not doing that giant bald bastard any favors even if it kills me!”
“Yes, yes! Of course! This is only about rescuing the commoners! I have no intention of fighting either. Not even a little!”
“Tsk!”
Chung Myung cast a grumpy look over everyone before snapping his head away.
Idiots.
The moment they heard the commoners were in danger, their eyes changed at once. He had worn his mouth out telling them to think of themselves first, but apparently his words hadn’t even reached their ears.
But…
Yeah. That’s how Mount Hua should be.
Those words Hyun Jong had spoken to Beop Jeong had probably meant exactly that. For Mount Hua to be Mount Hua, it could not refuse this request.
“Alright.”
“Oh!”
“Let’s go. Go! We just need to hurry and evacuate the people!”
“Yes, yes!”
“Honestly, you people… What a mess…”
Before more groans could spill out of his mouth, Hyun Jong called out urgently,
“Hyun Young! Hyun Sang!”
“Yes, sect leader!”
“Prepare all the disciples! We depart for the Yangtze at once. Remember this well: the sooner we arrive, the more people we can save!”
“Yes, sect leader!”
The atmosphere in the hall turned hot and bright all at once.
And so… Mount Hua’s march to the Yangtze was decided.