Chapter 156: The Wrath of Sect Leader Song Jeong (1)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 156: The Wrath of Sect Leader Song Jeong (1)
Crackle. Snap.
The forest was damp and cold.
The campfire, fueled by sodden wood, hissed and sputtered, throwing off more smoke than heat. What little warmth it managed to provide was quickly swallowed by the biting chill of the night.
Crunch. Crunch.
Seok Myeong used a poker to nudge the drier wood toward the center, moving the damp logs to the edges to dry them slowly. Around the flickering flames, the Qingcheng party lay fast asleep.
As the only one awake, Seok Myeong watched the dying embers and tossed in another branch.
Song Gwan had pushed himself to the limit on their long journey. Seok Jun and Seok Jin were nursing injuries, and Yeon-hui was utterly exhausted. Ironically, Seok Myeong—who had only recently endured the ravages of Demonic Qi—was in the best physical condition of them all. Naturally, he had taken it upon himself to handle everything, from standing watch to preparing the campsite.
Thud.
"…Are you awake?" Seok Myeong asked softly, coaxing the fire to grow a bit larger.
Rustle.
Seok Jun, who had been lying down to rest his wounds, shifted quietly and sat up. Only yesterday, he had fallen into a fitful sleep, nearly fainting from the pain. After half a day’s rest, however, he seemed to have recovered some of his strength.
"Where are we…?"
"We’re almost there. Once we pass through this area, we should reach Mount Qingcheng by noon tomorrow. Just hang in there a little longer."
"…."
Seok Jun remained silent. After a long pause, he blinked several times before finding his voice.
"Is it… really alright for us to return without permission like this?"
Cough.
Seok Jun let out a ragged cough. Having taken a severe blow to the neck, he still found it difficult to speak despite his recovery.
"It was Martial Uncle Song Gwan’s decision."
"The Martial Uncle’s?"
"The incident at the Martial Alliance was no ordinary matter. He judged that if we stayed behind to explain ourselves, we would only fall further into their trap."
"I see."
Seok Jun frowned at the explanation but eventually nodded. Refusing to back down is courage, but failing to grasp the situation is nothing more than reckless bravado.
The members of the Diancang Sect had been absurdly determined to pick a fight. And though he had only seen them briefly while injured, the monsters that appeared within the Qingcheng Sect were even more horrific.
Looking back, every element had been a danger. For the Qingcheng Sect, this Martial Demonstration Gathering had been nothing short of a demon’s den.
Elder Song Gwan…
Had any other elder been in charge, they might have refused to retreat for the sake of Qingcheng’s pride. The fact that it was Song Gwan leading them brought Seok Jun a genuine sense of relief.
"So. How is your body feeling?"
"…."
At Seok Myeong’s question, Seok Jun twisted his stiff torso, his joints popping and cracking. After carefully checking his condition, he spat out a thick glob of bloody phlegm.
"Eldest Disciple."
When Seok Jun spoke again, his voice was a bit clearer.
"Yes?"
"Why aren't you asking me?"
"Asking what?" Seok Myeong asked, his eyes fixed on the campfire.
"About why we ended up fighting the Diancang Sect. And why we were crushed so pathetically."
Snap. Pop. Crackle.
Seok Myeong remained silent for a moment, staring into the dancing flames.
"Tell me when you are ready to tell me."
"…Pardon?"
"If I force you to speak now, it will only be a burden. If you aren't talking, you must have your reasons. Isn't that right?"
Seok Jun’s expression twisted.
It was always like this. This man always acted the part of the "great man," making everyone else feel like a petty coward in comparison. He made Seok Jun’s ambition and competitive spirit turn black with envy.
Tap, tap.
"Your body hasn't recovered yet. Rest more. That way, when we return to the main sect—"
Slap!
Seok Jun violently brushed away Seok Myeong’s hand as it reached out to pat his shoulder.
"…Jun."
"I was the one who started the fight," Seok Jun spat out provocatively.
Seeing Seok Myeong—the Eldest Disciple who always wore a kind face—stiffen and freeze gave Seok Jun a strange sense of satisfaction. He continued.
"Those Diancang bastards provoked us first. They pretended to keep their voices down, but they were loud enough for everyone in the room to hear them mocking Qingcheng. I couldn't stand it."
"…."
"Well? Aren't you going to blame me? You should be telling me why I wasn't more prudent. Isn't that what a 'gentleman' like the Eldest Disciple would do?"
"…."
Seok Myeong quietly closed his eyes, reflecting on the words. After a while, he answered.
"You did well."
"What…?"
"As a disciple of Qingcheng, if you had endured mockery toward your sect, that wouldn't be prudence—it would be cowardice. Since when have we lived our lives walking on eggshells around other great sects?"
"…."
Snap. Pop.
Seok Myeong spoke as he stoked the embers.
"Besides, while you only started a fight, I killed someone. Someone who appeared to be a key figure of Diancang."
"…!"
"What right do I have to say anything to you? You and I both acted out of love for Qingcheng. I know that, Jun. And more than anything…"
Clatter.
He tossed another piece of firewood into the flames and leaned his back against a tree stump. A long sigh escaped him, a mixture of exhaustion and deep thought.
"No one in this world is perfect."
"…."
"We are creatures who make mistakes several times a day. If we do something wrong, we simply need to repent sincerely."
"Eldest Disciple, what I’m trying to say is—"
"Furthermore, I am also responsible for your actions. So do not blame yourself. I believe you were right—"
"I’m saying! This is exactly why I hate you, Eldest Disciple!"
Cough! Hack!
With bloodshot eyes and droplets of blood flying from his lips, Seok Jun screamed.
"…Jun?"
As Seok Myeong looked on with a startled face, Seok Jun ground his teeth.
"Do you have any idea how long I’ve spent traveling the Jianghu? While you were a cloistered student digging into martial arts theory, do you know how many people’s blood has stained my blade? I learned the weight of killing a person! I learned why the sword of Qingcheng is heavy!"
"…."
"My sword was forged through blood and death! And yet, you always 'teach' me so lightly. The Wise and Benevolent Gentleman? Ha! What a grand title. It’s always the same! You always act so righteous, pretending to be the perfect gentleman. But that!"
Tremble!
Seok Jun’s fists shook. His eyes were now filled with tears of pure rage.
"That always makes things so hard for me! Worldly wisdom? Jianghu titles? Do you have any idea what those things actually mean? Do you know the suffocating pressure of being unable to rest or speak a single word carelessly under the gaze of the Jianghu, while you were comfortably studying martial arts?"
"…."
"Do you know how it feels when you casually belittle the sword I fought so hard to achieve—calling it 'crude' or saying my 'killing intent is uncontrolled'—in front of the First Generation Disciples! In front of the novice disciples! You will never understand why I hated you!"
Huff. Huff.
After pouring everything out through his swollen throat, Seok Jun gasped for breath.
Seok Myeong listened to the vitriol with a calm face for a long time. Then, he let out a long sigh.
"I am sorry, Jun."
"…."
"As you said, traveling the Jianghu this time has led to many unintended consequences. I’ve come to understand a little of what you meant about my flaws."
"Ha. You understand now?"
"The Wise and Benevolent Gentleman. That title."
Seok Myeong spoke his own nickname back to the sneering Seok Jun.
"It sounds plausible, but it is a truly arrogant title. A wise gentleman who always acts for others and gives them guidance? It isn't true. I am not that kind of person. And yet, I never denied it."
"…."
"You’re right. I was a cloistered student, not a man of the Jianghu. I only realized after experiencing it myself why worldly wisdom is important, and how teaching someone martial arts can sometimes be an act of utter disrespect."
"…!"
Creeak!
Seok Jun clenched his fists so hard they seemed ready to break. At the same time, his eyes grew hot.
"You were already a Qingcheng Swordsman back when I was still in the Azure Moon Storehouse. You were my junior brother, and I was more proud of you than anyone. In truth… I was there the day you first put on the Azure Sutra Robe."
Seok Jun slowly raised his head. He looked at Seok Myeong with a flushed face.
"The appointment of a Qingcheng Swordsman. It was a ceremony where everyone came out to celebrate the birth of the very first Qingcheng Swordsman among the Second Generation Disciples. But shamefully, I was hiding in a corner of the training ground. I should have stepped forward to congratulate my junior’s achievement and patted him on the shoulder, but I couldn't. I was that petty."
"You were there…?"
This time, it was Seok Jun’s turn to look shocked. He had always thought Seok Myeong was a man without depth, someone who just smiled and played the part of the benevolent gentleman.
But thinking about it now… how would he have felt in Seok Myeong’s position? To be overtaken by a much younger junior? He didn't even want to imagine it.
"To me… the Azure Sutra Robe you wore was truly dazzling."
"…."
Seok Myeong continued as Seok Jun sat in stunned silence.
"Just as you said, I didn't know how much blood a Qingcheng Swordsman has to taste. I didn't know how hard you had worked; I was just envious. That’s why… I tried even harder to 'teach' you. To prove that I was still useful. That I was still the Eldest Disciple."
"…."
"But what a pathetic older brother I was. A proper Eldest Disciple should be more proud of his junior’s achievements than his own. At the Martial Demonstration Gathering, when my title was called out in front of the rising stars, I should have put you forward instead of myself. You, the pride of our Qingcheng, the first to wear the Azure Sutra Robe."
"I… I didn't want something like that—"
"I know. I know you didn't want that. But I should have done it anyway. Yet I didn't. No, I didn't even think of it. What a lacking and unworthy senior brother I am."
Tears welled in Seok Myeong’s eyes as he quietly closed them. Seeing this, Seok Jun grit his teeth.
Drip.
He felt ashamed. He claimed he didn't care, but honestly, he had felt resentful about those things. He hadn't tried to build up Seok Myeong’s status—in fact, he had ignored it—yet he had expected Seok Myeong to naturally build up his own.
Strangely, Seok Myeong’s sincere self-reproach only made Seok Jun’s own inadequacies stand out more.
"Jun. Can you give this pathetic brother one more chance?"
"Who would…"
Choke.
The words wouldn't come out. But Seok Myeong continued.
"Even if I am such a flawed senior… could you give me one more chance?"
As Seok Myeong opened his eyes and looked at him, Seok Jun couldn't say another word.
"Ugh!"
He let out a sob-filled groan. He was overcome with shame. With that one sentence, every word he had just spat out flashed before his eyes.
Seok Jun himself could never have said those words. His personality wouldn't allow it, even if his life depended on it. Overwhelmed, he slumped down onto the bare ground.
"Seok Jun…"
"No… I…"
If he didn't speak now—if he didn't pour out his inner thoughts at this very moment—he would never be able to hold his head up in front of this man again.
"Eldest Disciple…"
Seok Myeong started to speak but hesitated.
Plop.
One drop.
Plop.
Another.
Plop. Plop. Plop. Plop.
The tears that had been trickling down Seok Jun’s face suddenly turned into an uncontrollable torrent.
"You are right… I ignored you… I looked down on you. I thought… I thought only I… only I could lead Qingcheng."
He had known. He had known from the beginning that Seok Myeong was this kind of person.
"That’s why I wanted to be strong. I truly wanted to be strong. And because of that, I dismissed everything else as trivial."
That was why he had hated him so much. It was painful to clash with him. Because Seok Myeong possessed something entirely different from himself—a vast, encompassing magnanimity.
"Jun. Will you take my hand?"
A hand appeared in Seok Jun’s line of sight. It was the hand Seok Myeong had reached out.
"Let’s start over. I, too, have much to learn from you."
As Seok Jun knelt there, the hand his Eldest Disciple offered felt warmer than anything he had ever known.