If You Lose to Those Bastards, You’re Dead. (5)
The day of the Hwajong Jihoe had finally dawned.
Hyun Jong stood quietly, looking at the second-generation and third-generation disciples lined up before him.
They looked solemn.
That the children’s faces were so stiff with tension pained him deeply. The disciples standing before him understood exactly what it meant to shoulder such a burden and step out into the Hwajong Jihoe.
It hurt.
He did not know when things had changed so much, but this burden had originally been one that should have been borne by the Sect Leader and the elders of the sect. Yet at some point after the Hwajong Jihoe had become fixed in place, the task of proving a sect’s strength and making its name resound had been handed over to children.
Even the second-generation disciples were too young to bear such a weight.
As for the third-generation disciples, there was nothing more to say.
And yet, to see them step forward without a single complaint beneath that crushing burden filled him with endless gratitude—and, because of that, even greater guilt.
"Sect Leader."
Hyun Young gave him a subtle look, and Hyun Jong lifted his head slightly.
He had fallen so deep into sentiment that he had kept the children standing there far too long.
Hyun Jong cleared his throat softly to break the mood, then spoke in a gentle voice.
"You all look nervous."
He slowly looked over the children and shook his head.
"There is no need to be so stiff. Winning or losing does not matter. Simply use this Hwajong Jihoe as your foundation for the future."
Meeting everyone’s eyes, Hyun Jong spoke as though making a vow.
"Whatever result you bring back, you will still be Mount Hua’s proud disciples. Remember only that."
It was a clumsy speech.
It did not stir the spirits of those about to enter the matches, nor did it fill them with the resolve to carry Mount Hua’s honor on their backs.
And yet those words gently loosened the hearts of the disciples, who had been standing there under such a heavy burden.
When everyone’s expressions had softened a little, Hyun Jong nodded.
"I will be watching. Go on."
With that, Hyun Jong turned and walked away first. Hyun Young quickly hurried to his side.
"Will you not go with them?"
"Though it is only a martial contest, those who compete and those who watch cannot go together. They will have things to say among themselves. Let the children be alone for a while."
"Yes, Sect Leader."
At Hyun Young’s signal, the other elders of Mount Hua and the Un generation hurried after Hyun Jong.
As the remaining second-generation and third-generation disciples let out slow breaths to calm themselves, one person stepped forward.
Baek Cheon.
He stood before everyone with a determined face.
"Today, we fight Zhongnan."
Baek Cheon’s gaze briefly drifted toward Chung Myung before returning to its place.
"As the Sect Leader said, it is not shameful to lose. What is shameful is failing to give your all. When you go into battle, remember that you are disciples of Mount Hua, and carry that pride with you."
"Yes, Sasuk!"
"Let’s go!"
Baek Cheon led the second-generation disciples toward the martial arena with a hardened expression. On the faces of those following him, a firm determination was clearly visible. Even Yu I-seol, walking at the very back, showed a solemnity unlike her usual self.
"Ahem."
When the second-generation disciples had moved farther away, Yoon Jong quietly stepped forward.
Immediately, the third-generation disciples welcomed him with enthusiasm.
"Well? Is Great Sasuk going to say something too?"
"Come on, just one line, one line. If this keeps up, we’ll be here till dawn."
"Ha. They say titles really do drive people crazy."
Those bastards…
"You punks better start treating me at least half as well as you do Baek Cheon Sasuk!"
"We get it, so hurry up. My legs are killing me."
"If that’s how it’s going to be, then each of you say a few words. Jo Gul Sasuk, go stand in the back first. Let’s not waste time."
"Ugh."
Yoon Jong let out a deep sigh.
They used to be such good kids.
How had they ended up like this?
Yoon Jong turned his head and looked at the root of all this evil.
Even though the grand event of the Hwajong Jihoe lay right before them, Chung Myung was sprawled out like a man who wanted to die from sheer annoyance, and that sight came into view.
"Chung Myung."
"Yeah?"
"Do you have nothing to say?"
Chung Myung snorted.
"What, like I’m doing some huge damn thing here."
He casually turned his head and looked toward the martial arena.
"Let’s hurry up and finish so we can eat. Come on."
Before he knew it, the corners of Yoon Jong’s mouth had lifted.
"Alright, you brat."
One thing, at least, he could be certain of.
This bastard was a complete pain in the ass most of the time, but at moments like this, there was no one more reassuring.
"Let’s go!"
Yoon Jong took the lead and guided everyone toward the martial arena.
Chung Myung followed behind, his eyes quietly gleaming.
* * *
The Hwajong Jihoe had originally been created as an event for exchange between Mount Hua and Zhongnan.
Of course, Mount Hua had its own intentions, and Zhongnan had theirs, but at least on the surface, the purpose was simply exchange through martial contests.
That was why the Hwajong Jihoe did not receive outside visitors.
Until now, only the disciples of Mount Hua and Zhongnan had gathered here to fight each other for victory.
And this year’s Hwajong Jihoe, naturally, was no different.
That was what everyone thought, right up until they reached the martial arena.
Murmur, murmur.
"…"
Hyun Jong’s eyes widened as he stared at the training ground.
Once you passed through Mount Hua’s main gate, the main training field lay immediately ahead. Since it was a martial contest, a broad space was necessary. That was why the Hwajong Jihoe had always been held here without exception.
Normally, the only thing that happened was that the disciples of Mount Hua and Zhongnan lined up on the left and right sides of the wide ground.
But today, a somewhat strange sight had unfolded before them.
"W-who are all these people…?"
Unknown crowds had gathered around the training ground where the Hwajong Jihoe was to take place.
That was not all. Even now, more people were surging through the main gate.
More strangely still, every single one of those entering had some sort of object in their hands. They were carrying chairs, tables, and other furnishings toward the edge of the training ground.
Hyun Jong was so stunned by the sudden chaos that he lost his words for a moment. Then Un Am hurried up to him with an anxious expression.
"Sect Leader."
"What is the meaning of this?"
"People gathered at the main gate demanded entry out of the blue, saying they wanted to witness the Hwajong Jihoe with their own eyes. So many people came that we could not simply stop them."
"Hmmm."
Hyun Jong let out a low groan.
"Did Zhongnan invite them?"
If so, their purpose was obvious.
They meant to show those people Mount Hua’s defeat in the most humiliating way possible.
He had not realized it at first, but looking again, the outsiders’ clothing was rather splendid. And among them, Hyun Jong could even recognize a few familiar faces, so it seemed they had probably invited the prominent figures of Shaanxi.
Among the people he recognized were the owners of the Ten Great Merchant Guilds of Shaanxi, along with other local notables. And around them, there were even people in official robes.
Considering the influence those people held over Shaanxi, anything seen or heard at today’s Hwajong Jihoe would spread across the province in an instant.
How petty!
Heat rose faintly in Hyun Jong’s chest at that devious scheme, and his voice dropped colder than usual as he snapped,
"Do you not know that outsiders are not to be admitted without permission?"
"B-but, Sect Leader—"
"How could you allow them in when their intentions are so obvious?"
"Th-that is not it…."
"Hm?"
At that moment, a low voice reached Hyun Jong’s ears.
"Sect Leader. This does not seem to have been arranged beforehand."
Hyun Jong turned his head.
Sama Seung, the elder of Zhongnan, was approaching him with a slightly troubled expression.
Hyun Jong focused on that troubled look.
So Zhongnan had nothing to do with this?
If Sama Seung had brought them here, there would have been no reason for him to look so perplexed and ask such a question. He would have strolled over with a smug sneer instead.
Hyun Jong glanced at Un Am.
"What is going on?"
"I tried to stop them at first, but the one who brought these people here was…."
"It was me, Sect Leader."
Hyun Jong and Sama Seung both turned toward the source of the voice. A very familiar figure was walking toward them with a smile.
"Why, if it isn’t Young Master Hwang."
"Young Master Hwang?"
Hwang Mun-yak of the Eunha Merchant Guild was approaching them.
"It has been too long."
Young Master Hwang politely cupped his hands in greeting. The two of them returned the salute, though their faces remained full of questions.
After lowering his hands, Young Master Hwang wore a genial smile.
"It seemed like a Hwajong Jihoe without an audience would lack some spirit, so I gathered a few people."
"Hmm."
Hyun Jong frowned, about to say something, but Sama Seung beat him to it.
"Not a bad idea. Since this is the final Hwajong Jihoe after all, it would not hurt for it to become a festival for Shaanxi."
As he said that, Sama Seung deliberately put extra weight on the words "final Hwajong Jihoe."
Hyun Jong let out a low sigh.
Since Young Master Hwang had invited the people and Zhongnan had agreed to it, it was difficult for him to step forward and object. Could he really tell the people who had climbed this harsh Mount Hua to just go back?
Impossible.
Such a complaint about Mount Hua’s harshness would spread throughout all of Shaanxi. And considering the influence those people held, it would be even worse.
How difficult.
It was far too hard to turn these people away at the gate.
In the end, Hyun Jong could only sigh inwardly and force a smile.
"Very well, then. Since you are already here, please enjoy yourselves comfortably."
"Thank you for your understanding, Sect Leader. Then."
Young Master Hwang smiled and turned away. Mo Yong-gae was also grinning as he headed toward the seating area being set up with Young Master Hwang.
As he walked at the front, Young Master Hwang subtly lifted his head and glanced at Chung Myung.
Is this sufficient?
Chung Myung quietly nodded.
After exchanging looks, Young Master Hwang wore an unreadable expression.
The young Daoist never fails to surprise me. What exactly is he plotting this time?
The one who had asked Young Master Hwang to gather Shaanxi’s prominent figures was none other than Chung Myung. He had secretly visited the young guild leader in Hwayo and relayed the request through him.
Bring me everyone who’s even a little bit famous, for now.
I’ve done as you asked, at least for now. What comes next, I have no idea, young Daoist.
Receiving Hwang Mun-yak’s gaze, Chung Myung lifted the corners of his mouth in a grin.
If you’re going to make a scene, you might as well make it big!
What was the point of Mount Hua and Zhongnan beating each other senseless in a place where no one could see it?
Even if a result was produced, Zhongnan could simply keep its mouth shut and Mount Hua could shout until it was hoarse—nobody would believe either side. So everyone had to witness the result of this Hwajong Jihoe with their own eyes.
"Then that should do it for the preparations."
"Hm?"
"Nothing. Forget it."
Even if I told you, would you understand?
A sparrow can’t know the thoughts of a stork… huh? Wait, isn’t that a sparrow and a crane?
Anyway!
Sasuk! I’m putting my brain to work here, me! Take back what you said about me being stupid back then!
My little schemes have always worked just fine.
"Damn it, man! Is one damn compliment going to kill you?"
Jo Gul frowned and looked over at Chung Myung.
"Why are you mumbling to yourself again? Nervous?"
"…"
While Chung Myung let out a sigh, the rough preparations were completed.
The chairs and tables had been arranged, and the spectators were seated at a slight distance from the training ground. The servants who had brought the furnishings then lined up behind them in a crowd.
"Looks like it’s starting."
A tense voice could be heard.
A moment later, Un Am walked calmly out to the center of the training ground. Standing in the middle, he looked around once before cupping his hands toward the audience.
Then he straightened his back and took a deep breath. His voice boomed out, grave and resonant.
"Then, from this moment, we shall begin this year’s Hwajong Jihoe!"
The atmosphere erupted at once.