A Battle of Chopsticks
Yeongho Bin, having noticed the same thing, smiled and replied to the man.
"Do not worry, Master. We will pretend we saw nothing."
I had no idea which temple he hailed from, but this man was undoubtedly a Buddhist monk in training.
A monk enjoying a secret escape, drinking alcohol away from the watchful eyes of the Buddha in a local tavern.
Just looking at how he had shed his usual monastic robes and Buddhist cassock to disguise himself in a plain long robe... it was clear he knew he was violating his precepts and wanted to keep it hidden.
Embarrassed by his own predicament, the monk let out a hearty laugh and spoke cheerfully.
"Haha. Thank you for your understanding. Meeting like this must be fate, so let us exchange names. This humble monk's dharma name is Hye-un."
"My brother and I share the compound surname Yeongho. I am Bin, and my younger brother here is Yeon."
"Ah, the Yeongho brothers. A pleasure to meet you. So, what brings you to Chengdu?"
"We do odd jobs for a small merchant group. We are visiting because of the Merchant Alliance Tournament being held here in Chengdu."
"Ah. You have come for a similar purpose as this humble monk. Truth be told, I also came to assist one of the merchant groups."
The reason we had brought up the tournament was to naturally gather information from the locals.
But before we could continue the conversation, the waiter arrived with our dishes, cutting us off.
It was the tangchuricheok and cheongcho yuksa we had ordered.
Tangchuricheok was highly similar to the sweet and sour pork from my original world, while cheongcho yuksa was a dish that strongly reminded me of chili japchae.
They were not grand delicacies, but they were a welcome change from the food I usually ate in the Sun and Moon Sect. Moreover, Sichuan was famous for its uniquely spicy cuisine, so I had my own expectations.
"Brother, please eat first."
"Ah, yes. I shall. You should eat too, brother."
Yeongho Bin, playing his role as the older brother, picked up some cheongcho yuksa first. Then, I raised my chopsticks to grab a piece of tangchuricheok from the plate.
But at that moment.
"!!"
"!?"
Hye-un, the monk sitting across from us, was reaching his chopsticks toward the tangchuricheok as well.
Our eyes met in midair, and both of our chopsticks froze.
Absurdly, not only was this monk drinking alcohol behind the Buddha's back, but he was also coveting worldly food made of pork. Needless to say, Buddhism strictly forbade both alcohol and meat for practitioners.
No, that was not the important part right now.
Does this shameless monk have no decency? How can he brazenly try to steal someone else's food right in front of our eyes?
Neither of us said a word for a moment.
After a short silence, Hye-un slowly opened his mouth. He forced an awkward smile, clearly embarrassed, but his chopsticks did not budge.
"Haha... I heard the tangchuricheok here is famous for its exquisite taste. Please, eat your fill."
"Is that so... You should eat plenty too, Master."
How shameless of him to naturally reach for a dish ordered by someone else... Yet, on the other hand, I felt a twinge of pity. How starved must he have been, and how curious about the taste of meat, to resort to secretly consuming alcohol and meat in a place like this after becoming a monk?
Fine.
Since he had called me a benefactor, I would treat it as a charitable offering of food to a monk and let him taste some meat.
"It might be a bit much to ask in return, but I would appreciate it if the young benefactor could also turn a blind eye to this humble monk eating meat."
"If you say so..."
But since my own spiritual cultivation was not that deep either... watching this fellow named Hye-un casually take our tangchuricheok, pop it into his mouth, and savor it made my blood boil.
To make matters worse, Hye-un picked up his liquor bottle, poured it into his cup with a soft trickle, and slowly brought it to his lips, savoring it just like before.
One cup became two, two became three...
With every cup of alcohol, Hye-un expertly snatched a piece of tangchuricheok, popped it into his mouth, and swallowed it with relish.
And he did not even offer any of the alcohol he was drinking to us.
Not wanting to be outdone, I busily stuffed tangchuricheok into my own mouth... but watching the plate rapidly empty to less than half made me incredibly uncomfortable.
Furthermore, the tangchuricheok at this Sopung Tavern was indeed as exquisite as the rumors claimed. The savory flavor of the pork chewing in my mouth, the sweet and sour aroma of the sauce...
Seeing only a few pieces of tangchuricheok left, my irritation flared.
Noticing my sour expression, Yeongho Bin quickly called out to the waiter in an urgent voice.
"Excuse me! Bring us another plate of tangchuricheok. I know you are busy, but please hurry!"
"Ah... I am terribly sorry, but we just ran out of ingredients. Any other pork dish is available, though."
"Ah, brother. Shall we order something else instead? How about some hoiguorou?"
"No, brother. I am full."
Hye-un was already pouring his seventh cup of alcohol.
For some reason, his drinking speed, which had been slow and appreciative at first, seemed to be getting faster and faster.
Only two pieces of tangchuricheok remained on the plate.
I quickly snatched one with my chopsticks and popped it into my mouth.
Only one left.
Since they were out of ingredients, this might very well be the last piece of tangchuricheok left in the entire tavern.
Hye-un had not finished his seventh cup yet.
Considering his drinking speed, I should have at least a few seconds of leeway before he could reach for another side dish.
Still chewing my previous piece, I extended my chopsticks toward the final piece of tangchuricheok.
Internally, I smirked in victory.
But then.
Tap.
My chopsticks collided with something in midair and stopped.
Even at that very moment, Hye-un was tilting his head back with the cup to his lips, slowly pouring the alcohol into his mouth.
Astonishingly, he had extended his chopsticks without even glancing at the plate.
With his eyes closed, he had thrust his chopsticks forward and perfectly blocked my path.
This crazy, degenerate monk...!
I pulled my chopsticks back slightly and stared down at Hye-un's chopsticks, which were still hovering defiantly over the plate.
Changing my trajectory, I swept my chopsticks in a wide arc to the right to bypass him and reach for the pork.
But the movement of Hye-un's chopsticks far exceeded my expectations.
Tap.
His chopsticks, moving without a sound, were already firmly blocking my path once again.
By then, Hye-un had emptied his cup, but his head was still tilted back, eyes closed as he savored the alcohol.
This time, I feigned a leftward sweep before thrusting straight forward in a sudden, direct strike.
Without changing his posture, Hye-un shifted his chopsticks.
Tap.
My chopsticks were stopped in midair once again.
Only then did I realize another shocking truth.
Hye-un's chopsticks had not merely blocked my path.
He had not swatted my chopsticks away from the side, either.
With the tiny flat tips of his chopsticks, he had precisely met the tips of mine.
With just that, my chopsticks were completely halted, unable to advance even a hairsbreadth.
And he did this while tilting his head back to drink, without even opening his eyes.
A cold sweat began to trickle down my spine.
This guy... is no ordinary lunatic.
They say the Murim is vast, and eccentric masters are as numerous as the grains of sand on a riverbank.
But why on earth was a Buddhist monk so obsessed with a piece of tangchuricheok?
And how could he display such absurd martial prowess just to steal a piece of pork from someone else's plate?
Gulp.
I heard the sound of Hye-un swallowing the alcohol down his throat.
Then, a soft thud as he set his cup down.
Slowly, Hye-un lowered his head and opened his eyes.
Meeting my gaze, a gentle smile spread across his face as he spoke.
"So, young benefactor... you are a practitioner of the martial arts."
As he spoke, his gaze was incredibly warm and benevolent, and his voice carried a strange, reverent resonance that naturally composed one's mind.
It was not a voice or gaze one would ever associate with a monk brandishing chopsticks to steal someone else's sweet and sour pork.
In fact, he looked and sounded so dignified that anyone would have believed he was a renowned high monk from a famous temple—were it not for his flushed, drunken face.
"And your own cultivation is extraordinary, Master. This humble junior of the Murim, Yeongho, is deeply impressed."
I spoke with genuine admiration.
Hye-un continued in his gentle voice.
"Desire can never be truly satisfied. To diminish attachment and cultivate compassion is the teaching of the Buddha."
"Thank you for your wise words, Master."
"Does the young benefactor truly find himself unable to let go of this single piece of meat to the very end?"
"......!"
Staring at the utterly solemn Hye-un, I was left completely speechless.
A Buddhist monk—and one of seemingly high cultivation at that—was actually using the teachings of the Buddha to tell me to give up my tangchuricheok!
Fine, I lose. I lose.
Just as I was shaking my head at his sheer tenacity and preparing to yield the final piece of pork...
"—Argh!—"
It was a very faint sound, coming from far away.
It was a sound easily drowned out by the bustling noise of the tavern.
In this vast tavern filled with countless patrons, it seemed no one else reacted to the sound except for three people.
Yeongho Bin, Hye-un, and I froze instantly, straining our ears.
"—Urgh!—"
The screams of people echoed in succession from a single direction.
Faintly mixed within those screams was the distinct clash of blades.
And there was the unmistakable presence of martial artists exerting their inner energy.
"It seems I must excuse myself, young benefactor," Hye-un said, quickly rising from his seat.
"I must go as well."
Hye-un and I exchanged meaningful glances.
While clashes of blades were hardly rare in the Murim, this was not something we could simply ignore.
A fight had broken out in broad daylight right before the highly anticipated Merchant Alliance Tournament.
Moreover, our group was actively seeking information regarding the tournament.
Hye-un had likely reached the same conclusion.
He turned first and headed toward the tavern's exit. I quickly followed behind him, shouting back over my shoulder.
"Yeongho Bin... I mean, brother! Pay the bill before you come! The monk's share too!"
"Yes! Ah, understood, brother!"
Yeongho Bin hurriedly called for the waiter, while I dashed toward the exit, keeping pace with Hye-un.
"Quickly, the bill!"
"Yes, sir! Let's see, one plate of cheongcho yuksa, one plate of tangchuricheok..."
The path was labyrinthine, but Hye-un seemed to know the geography of the area like the back of his hand.
His mastery of lightfoot techniques was also exceptional. Even though he appeared to be walking normally, his speed was two to three times faster than an ordinary person's.
I focused entirely on keeping up, staying glued to his heels so as not to fall behind.
Hye-un and I navigated through several alleys, heading toward the increasingly deserted outskirts of the city.
Even as we ran, the sounds of combat grew louder.
The screams had stopped moments ago, replaced by the sharp, intermittent clashing of weapons. It was highly likely a battle between high-level masters.
The sounds drew closer. As we burst through a small bamboo grove, we spotted several figures fighting in a wide, open clearing ahead.