I Saw Nothing (2)
They had left the riverbank in high spirits, but in truth Mount Hua and the Tang Family hadn’t gone very far.
Even setting aside the need to care for the badly injured Namgung Clan, they needed lodging somewhere nearby, and the village they had built in Gugang happened to be perfectly suited to house both Mount Hua and the Tang Family.
“Still, isn’t this too close to the orthodox sects? Won’t it be uncomfortable?”
“If anything’s uncomfortable, it’s those bastards standing over there with broken legs. Why would we be uncomfortable?”
“Fair enough.”
And so Mount Hua settled in the estate the Green Forest had once used.
After tending to the wounded without even time to unpack, they had finally regained some measure of calm by sunset.
Of the injured, that was.
Not Mount Hua.
“The more I think about it, the angrier I get. That insane octopus-headed bastard!”
Cheong Myeong’s eyes flashed white.
“What? Collusion? Coltuuuuuuuusion? That crazy monk bastard’s just spouting bullshit because his mouth won’t shut! I ought to stuff a wooden fish down that damn gullet of his! Where does he get off slandering us like that!”
“Ahem, Cheong Myeong.”
“What!”
Baek Cheon cleared his throat softly. He understood the anger, but as his sahyeong, he couldn’t abide such filthy language directed at the Abbot of Shaolin.
“You’re going too far with your words about an elder of the martial world.”
“Sahyeong, have you lost your mind?”
“That’s not what I mean… I’m saying he might be ill. Perhaps even suffering from dementia.”
“…….”
Jo Geol leaned toward Yoon Jong in confusion.
“Sahyeong. Can a martial artist get dementia?”
“I used to think not.”
“And now?”
“After what I saw today, I’m starting to think it’s possible.”
“Ah….”
It was the sort of utterly ordinary exchange any Mount Hua disciple would have found familiar.
There was only one tiny problem: right in front of them stood a shiny-bald head.
Unable to join the conversation, Hye Yeon only broke out in a cold sweat.
As his eyes darted anxiously back and forth, the bad luck inevitably landed on him.
“Hey. What do you think? Bald monk.”
“A-Amitabha… W-what are you asking me?”
“I’m asking whether that sect leader bastard’s gone completely off his rocker.”
Hye Yeon squeezed his eyes shut.
He had eyes, after all, and had seen everything that had happened between Mount Hua and Shaolin. When Beop Jeong had accused them of colluding with the righteous and evil factions alike, Hye Yeon had nearly hurled a string of curses straight into the Abbot’s face without meaning to.
If that had actually happened, it would have gone down as a historic moment of destroying the Buddha and annihilating the lineage, one that would be remembered in Shaolin’s history forever.
“Come on, tell me what you think.”
Hye Yeon was wracked with indecision. No matter how much he could no longer really be called a Shaolin monk, Beop Jeong had still been like a parent to him. How could he possibly badmouth him recklessly in front of others?
Of course, Cheong Myeong gave not a single damn about Hye Yeon’s circumstances. He didn’t even bother to think about them—he simply tilted his head and shoved his face right up close to Hye Yeon’s.
“Are you deaf? Your head’s all polished—does that mean your eardrums are polished too?”
Jo Geol whispered again to Yoon Jong.
“Sahyeong. If the eardrums are polished, wouldn’t that mean he hears better?”
“……I’m not a doctor, so I can’t really say that far.”
Hye Yeon bit his lip and glanced at the two of them.
I hate those bastards even more. Those bastards.
“Why won’t you answer?”
Just then, Baek Cheon, who had been watching Cheong Myeong in silence, narrowed his eyes.
“Cheong Myeong.”
“Why now?”
“Hye Yeon is having trouble answering. Stop asking him.”
Cheong Myeong scowled, but before he could spit out an insult, Baek Cheon said evenly, “It’s only natural. His body may be with Mount Hua, but his heart may still be with Shaolin. What right do we have to force that? If we can’t even understand that, we can’t call ourselves true friends.”
“Oh? Is that it? You still like Shaolin better?”
Hye Yeon made up his mind.
I hate that bastard—no, I hate Baek Cheon even more.
“Hyaaah. I was raising a tiger cub this whole time. So that means you’re still going to defend the guy who accused us of colluding with the evil sects? What, this bastard’s secretly a spy planted in Mount Hua by Beop Jeong?”
“Hm?”
“Huh?”
“Huuuuuuh?”
The eyes of the Ogeom all turned to one place at once. Hye Yeon, blinking in confusion, jumped in alarm.
“A-a spy? How could a Buddhist ever do such a thing?”
“Why the hell not, you bastard! Your sect leader looked like he’d sell out his own mother without blinking! And you still dare say that after seeing that? Are Shaolin bastards born with hair in their consciences?”
“Th-that's….”
Cold sweat poured down Hye Yeon’s back.
“So, did you see what your sect leader was doing earlier or not?”
“I-I….”
“Yeah, you did.”
“I-I didn’t see anything at all.”
“…….”
For a moment, everyone stared blankly at Hye Yeon. Hye Yeon squeezed his eyes shut again.
“Really? You didn’t see?”
Cheong Myeong rose smoothly to his feet, wearing a pleased expression, and then brought his hand down in a swift strike atop Hye Yeon’s head.
“Kyaaaul!!”
“Grab him!”
“I knew this would happen!”
Panicking, the Ogeom rushed in and clung to Cheong Myeong as he lunged for Hye Yeon.
“Let go! Or what? I’ll just kill that bald bastard! This is exactly why they say you shouldn’t take in black-haired beasts! What, you didn’t see? You bastard! That eye of yours looks useless anyway—want me to dig it out for you today?”
“Cheong Myeong! Calm down!”
“You can’t just hit people like that, you idiot!”
“Yeah, Cheong Myeong! I don’t know about the rest, but Hye Yeon isn’t a black-haired beast! He doesn’t even have hair.”
“…….”
“…….”
Silence fell all at once. Even Cheong Myeong, who had been lunging forward, and the Ogeom, who had been restraining him, both slowly turned to stare at Jo Geol.
“……What?”
“……What an idiot.”
“That was impressive.”
“Benefactor, that’s a little….”
“Shut up, you bastard!”
Cheong Myeong rolled his eyes back again and charged at Hye Yeon once more.
By now, this kind of thing was practically part of Mount Hua’s daily life, so no one even spared them a glance.
Except for one person.
“…….”
Namgung Dowi stared blankly at Cheong Myeong, who was now practically trying to bite Hye Yeon’s head off.
What is this?
Is that really the same person I’ve been watching all along?
He kept staring until, by chance, Tang Pae happened to walk by nearby, and Namgung Dowi grabbed him.
“Th-there, Young Patriarch.”
“Yes?”
“……Is this how things normally are here?”
At the question, Tang Pae lifted his head slightly and looked at Cheong Myeong and the Ogeom. Then he answered in a flat voice.
“Well… you’ll get used to it soon enough.”
After that, he gave Namgung Dowi’s shoulder a couple of pitying pats and strode away as if nothing had happened.
By then, Cheong Myeong had started outright flinging Hye Yeon around. Namgung Dowi’s eyes trembled at the sight, unbelievable as it was.
Come to think of it…
Maybe he really had always been like that. Right, the martial arts tournament and all that. The tournament… yes, the tournament.
But still, no matter what, this is ridiculous!
Wasn’t this the same man who had defeated the Black Dragon King just yesterday on Maehwado and displayed such heroic prowess? The sword he had shown then was still lodged in Namgung Dowi’s memory like a thunderclap.
And yet that same man….
“Die, die! You stupid bat bastard!”
“I-I’m not a bat!”
“Not a bat? Then where the hell do you see a bald man wearing a robe? Grow your hair out, or take off the clothes! Pick one or the other!”
“Th-that’s….”
There he went again.
Yep, there he went again.
He knew perfectly well in his head that this was the same person, but his heart simply refused to accept it.
“Just calm down, you idiot! Why are you taking your rage at Shaolin out on a monk? …Huh?”
At that moment, Yoon Jong spotted Namgung Dowi standing there blankly.
“Ah, greetings.”
“……Yes. Greetings, Dojang.”
Yoon Jong greeted him politely, but Namgung Dowi’s expression as he returned the greeting was distinctly awkward.
“What’s this? Isn’t that the injured one? Why is he out here again?”
As soon as Cheong Myeong’s attention shifted to him, Namgung Dowi quickly cleared his throat. Whether people were strange or not, he still had things he needed to do.
“Dojang. I’ve come to offer my thanks properly once more.”
Namgung Dowi bowed deeply in a formal fist salute.
Cheong Myeong, looking at him with a blank expression, turned to Baek Cheon and asked, “Sahyeong.”
“Hmm?”
“Are great clans always like this? Repeating greetings they’ve already given?”
“……Why are you asking me that of all people?”
“Because sahyeong’s from the long-established Zhongnan, isn’t he?”
“I’m not, you bastard! I’m Mount Hua to the bone!”
“Oh, what a horrendous traitor to his own bloodline. Tsk tsk. Betraying the parents who gave you such a fine name as Dong-ryong.”
“I do not want to hear that from you!”
Ah, right.
Come to think of it, that was the Mount Hua Righteous Sword who had carved a path through the river pirates on the Yangtze River.
Back then, he had seemed… truly impressive, truly dependable.
No, but was his name really Dong-ryong?
There was no rule saying a person’s name had to suit their face, but this was beyond merely clashing—it was as if the face and the name were seizing each other by the collar and brawling in public.
“Fine. Well. Being polite isn’t a bad thing.”
Cheong Myeong nodded and said it offhandedly. Unlike his words, however, the look in his eyes made it blindingly obvious what he really thought: What the hell am I supposed to do with a brat wasting time on pointless nonsense like this? So obvious, in fact, that even Namgung Dowi could see it.
“So, is that all?”
“Ah, no.”
Namgung Dowi wiped at the sweat beading on his brow.
“Since we’re now all part of the same family, I came to say that I’ll be in your care from now on.”
He bowed deeply again.
“I ask for your guidance and instruction.”
He was certain of it from the bottom of his heart.
Mount Hua has become unimaginably strong.
He knew all too well what Mount Hua used to be capable of. Not many years ago, it had been a sect so obscure it barely existed in the martial world at all.
And even at the martial arts tournament, they were only a sect with some promising younger talents.
But what they had shown on the Yangtze River had completely shattered that impression. In just a few years, they had become a sect that could stand on equal footing with the Namgung Clan… no, perhaps even a force greater than them.
By ordinary logic, it was absurd, but there was no denying what he had seen with his own eyes.
Which means, put another way, Mount Hua is the sect that understands best how to rebuild a sect in today’s world.
So he had to cling to them no matter what.
If he wanted to restore the half-ruined Namgung Clan completely, then he had to learn from Mount Hua—and from the Mount Hua Divine Dragon.
Dojang Cheong Myeong will definitely help. Definitely.
Cheong Myeong had fought at the risk of his own life to save people he had never even met before. If he considered that profound sense of righteousness, there was no way he would turn his back on the Namgung Clan.
Namgung Dowi believed that.
The problem was….
“Sahyeong.”
“Hmm?”
“What’s he even saying?”
“He says now that they’ve joined the Heavenly Friends Alliance, he hopes they’ll be in our care.”
“So what the hell does that mean?”
“Didn’t you hear? He said they were ditching the Five Great Families and joining the Heavenly Friends Alliance in front of the Abbot of Shaolin.”
“Ahhh, that?”
Only then did Cheong Myeong nod as if he’d finally understood.
“Yes! Exactly that!”
Namgung Dowi beamed at him.
“So from now on….”
“Hey.”
“……Yes?”
Namgung Dowi, who had just started to bow again, froze in an awkward half-crouch and lifted his head slightly.
And there he saw Cheong Myeong, head tilted sharply to one side, glaring at him with a face that seemed to contain every possible annoyance in the world.
“Join?”
“……Yes. Join….”
“And who said we’d accept you?”
“Pardon?”
Cheong Myeong dug at his ear with a finger, then blew on it once.
“Not for sale.”
“Pardon?”
“I said we’re not buying.”
“…….”
Yes, the problem was that Cheong Myeong was even stranger than Namgung Dowi had imagined.
Which, tragically, was saying something.