Chapter 16
Chapter 16
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: The Monk-Faced Mad Dog
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“So.”
Hong Gak Seonsa’s eyebrows twitched.
“You brought him here to treat us to tea?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
Though faint, Baek Un’s attitude in responding carried even a hint of defiance.
‘Well, well, look at this guy?’
Hong Gak Seonsa suppressed the chuckle threatening to escape.
Monks aren’t devoid of emotions.
For a young and robust martial monk, overflowing vigor was only natural.
Even a lifetime of cultivation doesn’t perfect human nature—that’s why not just anyone attains nirvana.
But Baek Un’s current attitude wasn’t something to dismiss as mere youthful vigor.
‘This bull of a guy is scared?’
Hong Gak Seonsa pierced straight through Baek Un’s inner thoughts at a glance.
The old monk felt intrigued.
Strictly speaking, his own instructions hadn’t been entirely proper.
Simply repelling a person just for sensing a domineering aura?
Though he’d left the final decision to Baek Un, it could easily be read as shirking responsibility—a judgment he had no defense against.
He couldn’t deny it had been rash overall.
And Hong Gak Seonsa wasn’t the type to fuss over such things.
“Let me ask. What about that man made you afraid?”
“Pardon?”
Baek Un countered as if wondering what nonsense that was.
Hong Gak Seonsa clicked his tongue.
“You fool—even if you fool the world, you can’t fool this old baldy.”
“W-what do you mean?”
“Are you about to break the precept against false speech?”
Do not lie.
Baek Un’s face crumpled.
“I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize. No need to feel shame. As a monk, it’s actually something to rejoice over.”
“Pardon?”
“Beom Won.”
Beom Won, standing beside Baek Un, flinched.
“Yes, Venerable.”
“What did you feel when you saw him? Afraid to fight him, like Baek Un here?”
“N-no, not that, but...”
Hong Gak Seonsa’s gaze shifted back to Baek Un.
“Surely the other Eighteen Arhats felt the same as Beom Won. In other words, you alone properly gauged that man’s skill.”
“......”
“You’re at least a step ahead of the other Arhats. Go Hye Seonsa’s judgment in naming you leader of the Eighteen Arhats was spot on.”
“The Abbot...?”
“That said, don’t get complacent. You’ve got far more to refine.”
“Yes, Venerable.”
Baek Un bowed his head in response.
A mischievous glint danced across Hong Gak Seonsa’s wrinkled face.
“Anyway, that guy must be scary, huh? Can’t have a monk’s guts the size of a pea.”
“N-no, it’s...”
“I’d like to see what kind of fellow he is. He’s in the Guest Reception Hall now, right? Let’s go. You two lead the way.”
“Pardon? V-Venerable, are you planning to meet Donor Neung’s group?”
“Yeah, that’s the idea. Why?”
“N-no reason.”
Baek Un lowered his gaze in response.
Hong Gak Seonsa smiled faintly upon seeing the anxiety filling his face.
“Worried a brawl might break out?”
“......”
“Don’t fret. I’m not some fifty-year-old hothead. I’m not so boorish as to punch a guest.”
“Y-yes.”
In the end, the two monks ended up escorting Hong Gak Seonsa.
Throughout the walk, Baek Un’s face looked like he’d chewed on dung, and eventually Beom Won couldn’t hold back his curiosity. He asked via sound transmission.
-Senior Brother, why the worried look?
-Haven’t you heard tales of Venerable Hong Gak?
-Pardon? Tales?
-In his youth, Venerable Hong Gak wandered the Central Plains, famous for barging into sects everywhere.
-Barging in?
-He’d show up like a donor, then outright challenge the sect leader to a fight. Earned him the nickname Monk-faced Mad Dog—a mad dog in monk’s robes.
-Pardon?
-He wasn’t originally from Shaolin Temple. Makes sense; impossible to pull that off as a Shaolin monk.
-Did Venerable Hong Gak transfer temples?
-Yeah. Seems hushed up; only the old monks know these days.
-But how do you know, Senior Brother?
“I told them.”
“......!”
“Gasp!”
Hong Gak Seonsa’s sudden interjection made Baek Un and Beom Won feel even their nonexistent hair standing on end.
“You rascals. Sound transmission or not, chattering right in front—hard not to overhear.”
“......”
“Don’t worry. Ancient history now. Ah, haven’t had a real scrap since turning seventy?”
Baek Un and Beom Won clamped their mouths shut and quickened their pace.
Guest Reception Hall.
The place for receiving Shaolin Temple’s visitors.
Given Shaolin’s vast scale, the complex alone comprised over a dozen buildings.
Jeok Muryong’s group sat in one of them.
Baek Un and Beom Won, who had guided them, had left saying they’d return shortly—about half a shichen ago.
With so much time passed, Jin Choyoung couldn’t help growing anxious. Surprisingly, Jeok Muryong—the very cause—was utterly calm.
‘I thought he’d throw a fit demanding tea any second.’
She felt foolish for her own fidgeting.
With hunger piling on top, Jin Choyoung kept wiggling her toes.
“Jin Choyoung.”
“Y-yes?”
“Legs numb? Get up and walk the courtyard.”
At Jeok Muryong’s words, Jin Choyoung flushed red.
“I-it’s fine.”
“Is it? Then quit wiggling your feet. It’s distracting.”
“...It vanishes in front of Great Hero Jeok anyway, doesn’t it?”
“Can feel it even without seeing.”
Now even this gets nitpicked?
Jin Choyoung felt a fresh wave of grievance.
Neung So-hwa spoke up to her.
“Jeok Daehyeop’s just teasing. Don’t take it to heart, Choyoung.”
“Sniff. Yes, Miss.”
“That aside, Jeok Daehyeop—the tea’s running very late. You okay with that?”
“Hmm.”
Jeok Muryong pondered briefly before replying.
“Seems so.”
“Seems so?”
“Truth is, this one doesn’t care much for tea. Whatever it is, just boiled grass clippings, right? Might as well down an extra cup of liquor.”
“That’s how you felt back then?”
“Yeah. Mind hasn’t changed much even now.”
“But... even so, you want to taste that tea you couldn’t back then.”
“Yes.”
“So you’re fine waiting longer?”
“Seems that way.”
Jeok Muryong answered reflexively, then furrowed his brow.
Even explaining it himself, it sounded downright absurd.
Was this the Greed Demon’s mischief?
Long ago, when Elder Hwang of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult sealed him, those words flashed through his mind.
“The Greed Demon has already taken root in your body!”
Eons had passed, much forgotten—yet those words never once left Jeok Muryong’s mind.
‘So? In the end, that Greed Demon summons greater demons, leading this one to raze the world?’
To Elder Hwang—whose face he no longer recalled—Jeok Muryong inwardly spat.
‘I’ll prove that drivel wrong from here on out!’
Was that why?
Despite the long wait, no impatience stirred.
Compared to his past self, a colossal leap in patience.
Back then, half a geng would’ve blown his lid; now several times that felt fine.
‘Maybe ’cause I’m not hungry.’
Thinking so, Jeok Muryong slowly pulled out jerky and chewed.
The bundle was already half empty.
“In the end, not a scrap for me or the lady.”
Jin Choyoung spoke in a slightly sulky tone.
For her, it was mustering max courage to jab.
Jeok Muryong, of course, ignored it utterly.
The sweet, salty juices spreading through his mouth were pure bliss.
“Jerky in the temple’s heart tastes extra special.”
“......”
“A cup of tea on the side would make it perfection...”
Jeok Muryong trailed off slowly.
Saying it aloud suddenly made him crave it to madness.
Not liquor or fruit juice by any means.
Just steeped leaf water—bitter or grassy for sure!
Yet the urge to drink it was driving him insane.
At least something good?
Jeok Muryong’s senses caught three presences approaching the hall.
Moments later, Baek Un and Beom Won appeared, escorting an old monk.
Shaolin’s Ten Precepts Ten Monks leader, Hong Gak Seonsa.
The old monk’s gaze clashed with Jeok Muryong’s in midair.
“...Hoo.”
“......”
A spark lit both pairs of eyes almost simultaneously.
But the emotions within differed vastly.
‘This young? The aura I sensed held depths only long years can forge.’
‘A monk as aged as the Abbot back then.’
The two took their time, carefully appraising each other.
Those around sensed something occurring and held back from interfering.
‘Aura well-contained. Hard to even judge if he knows martial arts.’
‘Does he know tea? How to describe that one...?’
They stared, brows furrowed.
Hong Gak Seonsa broke the silence first.
“Greetings. This old baldy Hong Gak of Shaolin Temple.”
“Jeok Muryong.”
“Jeok Muryong. I see. Any sect affiliation?”
“Don’t keep such things.”
“Hah! Fascinating. Quite the skill at your young age—no master, no sect?”
“Heaven and moon my masters, wind and clouds my sect.”
“Hah! Quite poetic. Studied some literature, have you?”
“Just read and write. Anyway, elder versed in tea?”
“Tea? Indeed. Said there’s one you crave. What is it? Dragon Well? Iron Goddess? White Crane Silver Needle? Five Dragons Tea?”
“Don’t know names.”
“No names? Hah, you say it so casually.”
“No name, but know a Shaolin monk served it.”
“I see. That monk’s dharma name?”
“Venerable Gongmun. Definitely.”
Ssssss.
Before Jeok Muryong finished, the surrounding air chilled sharply.
The sudden shift startled all onlookers.
Realizing Hong Gak Seonsa caused it, shock doubled.
“V-Venerable?”
No reply despite Baek Un’s call.
He simply stared at Jeok Muryong, face rigid.
A monk-like gaze devoid of killing intent—precisely why it felt icier.
Jeok Muryong took it unflinchingly.
“Seems we need a private word.”
Baek Un shuddered; it sounded like a duel challenge.
Likely same for others—women and monks paling.
Jeok Muryong remained as calm as before.
“Then let’s.”