Chapter 176
Chapter 176
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 176
Chapter Title: An Eccentric Welcome
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After Neung Un-bi was guided to the guest quarters by Gong-mun, the final words of their conversation echoed relentlessly in Jeong-myeong’s mind as he sat with his eyes closed.
-Lord Neung, what would you do?
-If I were the master, I would discard it.
How very Demonic Cult of him.
He prioritized cutting the knot over untying it. Was he not saying that if he were in charge, he would overturn the Orthodox Faction to cut out the rot?
If he dreamt of conquest, the martial world might have to endure another great turmoil.
Fortunately, he had said that the affairs of the Central Plains should be handled by the Central Plains. He had even added a conditional ‘if’ to his later words, implying he had no intention of becoming the master himself.
In the end, even if a new leader succeeded Dam Un-cheon, the Demonic Cult would not invade the Central Plains.
Of course, that was only if a man like Neung Un-bi became the Cult Leader.
“Hooo…”
But the complexity weighing on Jeong-myeong’s heart did not easily dissipate. It was due to a worry he had always held onto, never able to let go.
He remembered when he had just become the Abbot.
-Senior Brother! Look at the secular world! Why do you insist on turning a blind eye?!
-The Orthodox Faction of today is filled with immoral hypocrites!
-Simply stepping back and watching, saying it has always been this way, is not the answer!
Jeong-hwa had tried relentlessly to persuade him. He had constantly cried out that Shaolin must act.
He had been making the same arguments since the time of the previous Abbot, even enduring wall-gazing as punishment…
And Jeong-myeong had reprimanded him, saying he harbored such thoughts because, as a Buddhist, he associated too frequently with worldly people, and had rejected his pleas numerous times.
When he finally refused to bend, Jeong-myeong had relegated him to the position of Head of the Scripture Pavilion, forcing him to transcribe Buddhist scriptures for years in the hopes he would find peace of mind.
But was that truly the right thing to do?
Was stepping back really not the answer?
By its very nature, a sect cannot completely avoid pursuing its own interests.
Even Shaolin, detached from the secular world, would have to go out and till the fields just to eat if not for the offerings of its followers.
However, the current Orthodox Faction’s greed for gain had grown so large that the cart had been put before the horse.
He knew this, for he had eyes and ears.
How could he not know what even Neung Un-bi, a man of the Demonic Cult, could see?
The Orthodox Faction of today had long since abandoned chivalry and now moved solely for personal gain.
Orthodox and Unorthodox? The names remained, but the line between them had blurred long ago.
The martial world of today was no different from a pack of armed ruffians. He knew someone had to step forward.
He also knew that Jeong-hwa was secretly in contact with those who sought reform.
The current Alliance Leader, Yi Ok-sang, Jin San of the Zhongnan Sect, and Cheong Jin of the Mount Hua Sect.
They had been in contact for a long time, trying to change the Orthodox Faction.
Jeong-myeong had a vague idea of what they were doing, yet he had left them be. It was because he could not make a judgment.
“Amitabha, his death ultimately led to this situation.”
The death of an assassin thirty years ago, which had shaken the martial world.
At one time, even Shaolin had taken an interest in his killings, and they had sent down Jeong-hwa, who was then responsible for upholding the precept against killing among the Ten Precepts.
But Jeong-hwa had not caught him. No, he must have chosen not to.
Was he not the only one among the Seventy-two Arts practitioners at the time to have reached the forty-ninth stage?
Even after that, Jeong-hwa had met him several times and let him go.
When questioned by Shaolin, Jeong-hwa had claimed that the man only punished the truly wicked.
But that did not justify murder. That was the teaching of Buddhism.
As a result, one day after the previous Abbot had sidelined Jeong-hwa, news of the assassin’s death arrived.
Jeong-hwa drank constantly and, while investigating his death, saw many things.
What he saw then and the state of the Central Plains that Neung Un-bi saw now were likely not so different.
So, was he foolish to expect self-purification?
“Hooo, it is difficult. So difficult… What is Shaolin’s role in this…?”
Jeong-myeong let out a deep sigh.
Shaolin’s path would change depending on his judgment.
That was why he had to be cautious, ever so cautious, in his decision.
“Gong-hyeon, are you outside?”
“Yes, Abbot.”
“Go to the Scripture Pavilion and bring Jeong-hwa here.”
“Understood.”
“Also, on your way, find Gong-mun and tell him not to watch Lord Neung’s quarters too closely.”
“Pardon?”
“Is he not a guest? It will be sufficient to watch over him just enough to ensure he is comfortable.”
“Understood.”
At Jeong-myeong’s words, Gong-hyeon, who was outside, respectfully replied and withdrew.
Listening to his footsteps, Jeong-myeong closed his eyes and quietly sank into thought.
“Amitabha…”
* * *
“This is the guest hall.”
“…”
I know.
Thirty years had passed, but nothing had changed.
A room large enough for three or four people to lie down. A small writing desk, and a stack of alms bowls in one corner.
Seeing it unchanged after all this time, it seemed Shaolin was still the same.
Of course, had I ever come to Shaolin’s guest hall as a guest?
I came here once because I heard the son of the Gongson family, scared witless after seeing this guy and that guy die, was hiding here.
In the end, I couldn't kill him and was driven out…
No, if I had killed him then, all hell would have broken loose. If I had committed murder in Shaolin, the entire world would have been after me.
If that had happened, the Zhuge clan would never have had the chance to devise a scheme to lure me into their inescapable trap.
“I will inform you separately when it is time for the meal.”
“Understood.”
“I will be outside, so please call if you need anything.”
“Excuse me? You’ll be outside?”
“Yes.”
“…Why?”
“Haha, now that my intentions have been exposed, there’s no reason to hide it. I am assigned to watch you, Lord Neung.”
“Ha!”
His audacity was dumbfounding.
One moment he was blushing because I’d read his mind, and now he was openly declaring he would watch me…
What a thick-skinned monk.
But this was better. If he were hiding and watching in secret, I’d have more to worry about.
“Are there any others watching?”
“There were.”
“Were… Pardon?”
“We expected you to bring all your subordinates, so we were planning to station Arhat monks everywhere.”
“…”
“But since you came alone, there is no need for others. Is it not enough for me to bear the burden alone? Haha!”
Gong-mun laughed awkwardly and scratched his head.
As if he had any hair to scratch…
In any case, that too was a relief.
The only one I needed to be wary of was Gong-mun. As one of the Ten Precept Monks, his skills wouldn’t be negligible, but deceiving his eyes wouldn’t be too difficult.
Hadn’t I already suppressed my demonic energy with the Demon-Subduing Bead for a long time now?
If I concealed my presence, he would never be able to find me.
Besides, I had no intention of moving immediately.
For now, I had to wait here for Hyang-i. She might bring the information I wanted to know.
And I absolutely needed her for the plan I had in mind.
“Monk Gong-mun.”
“Yes.”
“May I ask a favor of you?”
“Please, speak.”
“My maid may be coming.”
“Your maid?”
“Yes. Given my position, I’ve grown accustomed to being served… I’ve asked my guard to bring her.”
“Ah! I understand. I will leave instructions to guide her here when she arrives.”
“Ah, but…”
“Yes?”
“I’m not sure she will look like a maid…”
“…?”
“She is skilled in the art of disguise. Sometimes she becomes a young man, or takes the form of an old man.”
“Ah…”
“So, if you see a suspicious person, just ask if they are Hyang-i. If they say yes, you can just tell them I am looking for them.”
“…I see. Understood. I will pass on the message.”
“Ah! And…”
As I continued with my requests, Gong-mun’s brow furrowed slightly.
“She has quite a temper. And she’s more skilled than you’d think.”
“Pardon me?”
“I suppose it’s because she has only ever lived in the Demonic Cult… And as she is the maid of me, the Cult Leader’s disciple, she also serves as a guard, so martial arts training is essential for her.”
As I spoke, scratching my cheek, Gong-mun couldn't hide his dubious expression.
How skilled could a maid’s martial arts possibly be…?
“Well… I understand. I will relay that as well. Is there anything else?”
“No, that should be all. But you must be careful. I’d hate for you to get hurt unnecessarily.”
As Neung Un-bi repeatedly urged caution, Gong-mun finally let out a sigh.
What did he take the Shaolin monks for?
Hurt?
They were Shaolin monks who prioritized nobility of character. They wouldn’t recklessly strike a woman or a maid just because of a squabble.
“Do not worry. Even if such a thing were to happen, I will ensure that no harm comes to your maid.”
“Excuse me? What do you mean…?”
“Rest well, then.”
“…”
Perhaps slightly offended, Gong-mun closed the door without waiting for Neung Un-bi’s reply.
It seemed there had been a misunderstanding. I was talking about the Shaolin monks getting hurt, not the maid…
I was trying to be careful not to hurt his pride, but I should have just been more specific about who I was talking about.
Staring at the closed door, I felt a needless worry creep in.
She wouldn’t actually try to slit someone’s throat over a little argument, would she?
Nah, no way. Hyang-i isn’t that thoughtless.
Especially not when her opponents are from Shaolin…
Neung Un-bi shook his head, trying to dispel the worries filling his mind.
“Hooo, well, I guess all I can do now is wait.”
It had taken a full day to get to Shaolin, leaving about four days until the Nine Dragons' Tournament. If the date was moved up or pushed back, the Orthodox Murim Alliance would send word to Shaolin.
Before that… I need to find out about Hwang Byeong-chan. He might know the whereabouts of ‘that person.’
No, he must know. The circumstances were too clear for him not to, weren’t they?
In any case, once Hyang-i arrived, I would briefly head out to Dengfeng County.
And we would switch. Hyang-i and I.
Gong-mun said he was assigned to watch me, so he would follow, but there was no way he would notice the switch. Unless it was a master of Jeong-myeong’s, an elder’s, or perhaps Jeong-hwa’s level, no one would ever notice.
While Hyang-i played my part, I would go find Hwang Byeong-chan.
*Squeeze.*
Just the thought that I might soon meet that person made me inexplicably tense.
How long had I yearned for this?
To me, he was more than life itself.
I revered him. His ideals were my ideals.
So I willingly became his sword, and willingly gave my life.
Now, I will meet him again.
After a long detour of thirty years…
Of course, he won’t recognize me.
My name and my face have changed.
And I will be approaching him under the name of the Demonic Cult.
I haven’t even learned any of Hyang-i’s miscellaneous arts yet, but what does it matter?
I will tell him that I am not Neung Un-bi, but Cheok Wol-rin.
He won’t believe me at first, but if I recount every memory we shared, one by one, he will eventually have to recognize me.
As his thoughts reached that point, his hands trembled slightly and his breath grew ragged. The mere thought of seeing that person again made his heart pound.
“Hooo… I hope Hyang-i arrives soon.”
Neung Un-bi lightly clenched his trembling hands, calmly trying to settle his mind.
First things first, I have to get out of Shaolin without anyone knowing, don’t I?
As he calmed his impatience by reminiscing about old memories, time flowed quickly.
Before he knew it, the sun had set over the western mountains, and he could feel the outside growing dark.
And finally.
“Lord Neung.”
Gong-mun’s voice came from outside, and Neung Un-bi, who had been waiting all this time, couldn’t hold back and flung the door open.
“Is that Hyang-i?!”
“…”
But contrary to his expectations, outside the door stood Gong-mun and some decrepit old monk.
“Damn it all, who the hell is Hyang-i?”
“…Huh?”
The old monk immediately started cursing, his face scrunching up.
“Master, please watch your language.”
“Shut it, you brat. It’s my mouth, what the hell is your problem?”
“Master…”
“Hmph! Cut the crap and bring me some alcohol. My insides are a mess from smelling nothing but ink all day.”
Ignoring Gong-mun’s pleas, the old monk looked at Neung Un-bi.
If Gong-mun called him Master, it meant he was of the same generation as the Abbot…
But alcohol? And he was standing with his weight on one leg?
This guy was like a disgrace to the cloth, or something…
As Neung Un-bi, who had been eagerly awaiting only Hyang-i, couldn’t hide his puzzled expression, the old monk spoke.
“You said you wanted to see me?”
“…Pardon?”
Taken aback, Neung Un-bi tilted his head.
Me? You?
I never… Ah!
Suddenly, he remembered what he had said to the Abbot.
Staring intently at the old monk, Neung Un-bi’s eyes widened as he exclaimed.
“Jeong-hwa?”
“…”
At those words, one corner of the old monk Jeong-hwa’s mouth shot up as if to touch his cheekbone. Neung Un-bi felt a flash before his eyes and was sent flying backward.
CRACK!
“You disrespectful little demonic brat! No manners! What? Jeong-hwa? You must have a death wish, don’t you?”
“Lord Neung!”
Gong-mun cried out in alarm and lunged toward Neung Un-bi, while Jeong-hwa hadn’t moved a single step from where he stood.
He had been hit by the Hundred Steps Divine Fist… of Shaolin’s greatest master.
All for being disrespectful.