Let's Get Along From Now On
"Just. What. Is going on."
Muhwa's voice had an edge honed to a blade. The clipped, staccato delivery said everything about the state of her nerves, and a chill even flickered through her gaze. Namgung Seowol, who had followed her in with her usual absence of expression, edged a half-step away.
It was the kind of icy look that left even Namgung Jinbaek at a loss. Sun Wukong, however, could not have cared less.
"What?"
"That—ha."
Muhwa started to speak, then let out a small sigh at the sight of his perfectly untroubled face. She pressed a hand to her forehead, steadied her breathing, and finally found the next words.
"Everything that's happening right now. In just a few days the world has changed as if it were being turned inside out."
"It's just like what you've heard."
"Ah. So two of the Samcheong commissioned the Sect Leader's assassination, Hocheong—the greediest of the three—fought those two and was badly wounded, and Teacher Sun saved him?"
"That's a perfectly accurate read of the situation. Impressive as always."
"That's not what I mean. It's strange."
"What is?"
"Starting with how Hocheong suddenly flipped sides. He was the youngest of the Samcheong, so he basically handled all the grunt work. He couldn't even lift his head in front of his senior brothers."
Sun Wukong made a small sound of admiration.
"You found all that out in such a short time. You really are good at your job."
"Don't change the subject. If the Samcheong were the assassins, isn't it a fairly reasonable inference that Hocheong was in on it too?"
"If everything in this world always played out according to common sense, why would we need a separate paradise?"
"So you're saying it was a coincidence?"
"Sometimes reality is stranger, more perverse, and more coincidental than anything you could imagine. Human nature is the same way."
Sun Wukong's words were quiet, but they carried weight. He had not infused them with presence, nor laden them with profound inner energy. He had not even spoken with particular force, and yet the voice was so distinct that it compelled the listener to attend. More than anything, though, he had a trump card that would shut Muhwa's mouth.
"Eat this."
"What? I'm not a child whose mood can be fixed with food—"
"Chu Jahon from the Chuhyeon Merchant Group brought it. He said Westerners from across the Nanman sea carried it over. It's called snow cake—really soft."
The mouth that had been about to snap at him froze. The force drained from her narrowed eyes, and her gaze landed on the snack in Sun Wukong's hand. The look of it promised a soft, pillowy fluffiness, and a sweet fragrance drifted from it. Muhwa's lips parted slightly.
Sun Wukong casually began to draw his hand back.
"If you're full, never mind."
"No. I'm not."
Muhwa snatched his wrist. Then, perhaps a little embarrassed by the eyes on her, she flushed and pointedly looked away.
"Ahem. Let's eat first and then talk. There's more than one or two things we need to discuss."
"Sure."
Muhwa took a generous bite of the Nanman pastry, and her face melted into bliss. Having more or less shaken her off, Sun Wukong summarized the situation.
"There's no problem for now. Hocheong may be greedy, but his love for the Wudang Sect was genuine, and yes, he did turn his blade on his two senior brothers. Looking at the evidence he produced, there's no wriggling out of it."
"Mm—still—mm. That's true. The Wudang inspection elders are finding evidence that Hocheong's claims aren't wrong."
She swallowed and went on.
"But the power structure has gotten strange. Two of the Samcheong are dead, so their faction should have weakened—yet Hocheong's standing has skyrocketed."
"Well, yeah."
Sun Wukong nodded. Plenty of young martial artists were enthusiastically backing Hocheong's decisiveness in turning his blade even on his own senior brothers for the sake of Wudang's discipline and dignity.
"Hocheong absorbed the existing Samcheong faction that had lost its way, and even the young martial artists who were the Mugok Hall Master's solid support base have taken a liking to him."
"Even before this, he had a fair amount of quiet support because of that impatient temperament of his."
A hasty, rough edge unbefitting a Taoist. It was a weakness in a seasoned elder, but among the young disciples who had yet to master Taoist learning—still stained with worldly dust and boiling with youthful vigor—Hocheong was rather popular.
"So Wudang's power structure has gotten weird."
"The Mugok Hall Master must be pretty rattled."
"Teacher Sun, you have something in mind, don't you?"
Muhwa swallowed the last of the snow cake and looked at him.
"Originally I thought the Mugok Hall Master had the clearer justification, so I was trying to improve relations with his side. My judgment was that the Namgung Clan's counterpart wasn't the Samcheong but the Mugok Hall Master—that Wudang's legitimacy lay with him."
"And now the situation's gotten strange?"
"Teacher Sun's movements have been a little suspicious, is what I'm saying."
"There's plenty that's suspicious. What's the problem? Things have changed for the better."
"For the better...?"
Muhwa tilted her head.
"Neither side can definitively crush the other anymore."
"Hmm? That's true. Their forces are comparable. The Mugok Hall Master has the powerful justification of being the Sect Leader's last personal disciple. Hocheong has authority and the power base he's built over a long time. They're evenly matched."
"And they can't just draw blades and kill each other, can they? They're a righteous sect, and a Taoist one at that."
"There are limits."
"In the end, the beautiful picture would be them compromising and acknowledging someone's superiority."
"Well... yes? But will that happen easily?"
Of course it would not be easy. But for Sun Wukong, it was.
"We just arrange it."
"What?"
"The Namgung Clan helps them reach a compromise."
"Something like that."
What is that supposed to be... it's not like we're making children make up.
Muhwa barely swallowed the words that had been about to burst out. Sun Wukong's expression was utterly serious.
"If that works, it would be a good thing. The Namgung Clan's prestige would rise for brokering the compromise, and our relationship with the Wudang Sect would likely grow closer."
But how do we get them to compromise? Her eyes said the rest.
"We don't even have a reason to step in."
"I'm here, aren't I?"
"Teacher Sun?"
"I inherited a lineage of the Wudang Sect."
"Ah...!"
"The justification for stepping in isn't bad."
Muhwa's expression grew complicated. She looked impressed and yet somehow uneasy. She worked her mouth for a moment before she finally spoke.
"Did you really inherit a lineage of Wudang?"
Sun Wukong's origins, which they had never been able to uncover until now. Which school he belonged to. What martial arts he had inherited. It was shocking. To think he had inherited the lineage of Wudang's founder, Jang Sambong.
At first she had not believed it. She had never glimpsed even a fragment of Wudang martial arts from Sun Wukong. If anything, the arts he used to smash things with that vicious steel staff were similar to the Namgung Clan's sword, which contained the profound principles of overwhelming hegemony and the Mean—not something one would ever associate with Wudang martial arts, founded as they were on the principle of softness.
But what could she do? The Wudang elders had tacitly acknowledged it, and Hocheong of the Samcheong had outright confirmed it.
The problem was the Namgung Clan. From the clan lord Namgung Jinbaek down to the key figure Muhwa herself, they all regarded Sun Wukong as one of their own. His status, his skill, and his value could no longer be treated as those of a mere outsider.
Whatever the connection, what did the martial world prize above all else?
Academic ties and blood ties, I suppose.
Academic ties. In the end, people of the same school always ended up more tightly bound, did they not? If it was confirmed that Sun Wukong had inherited a Wudang lineage, then he would not be a man of the Namgung Clan.
"Worried I'll become a man of Wudang?"
Sun Wukong burst out laughing. He laughed for a good while before he managed to stop at the sight of Muhwa's serious face. His golden pupils settled, growing heavy.
Sun Wukong grinned.
Beyond the Fiery Golden Eyes. Except for Ojeong, every bond connected to him ran through Namgung. Namgung Jinbaek, Muhwa, Seowol, and Muyoung. In his past life, one had been Yu Baekheum, his closest human friend. Another had been Zhu Bajie, the sworn brother he would live and die for. And among the remaining two, Tang Sanzang was certainly one of them.
Of course, Sun Wukong also thought of Namgung as a useful blade. Even so, he could not help regarding them differently.
Despite his assurance, Muhwa's expression did not brighten. Her mind had grown a little complicated.
Isn't there some way to bind Teacher Sun to the Namgung Clan for certain?
Just being Muyoung and Seowol's master was not quite enough. Muhwa's worries deepened.
Until now, he had never feared death. The moment of dying, he had thought, he would accept with the composure befitting a martial artist.
That delusion lasted quite a while.
Hocheong smiled bitterly.
It's a hollow fantasy spouted by people who have never tasted the true terror of death.
Composure in the face of death was nothing more than imagination. Before Sun Wukong's steel staff, he had felt viscerally what death truly meant. And the moment Sun Wukong let him live, he had felt a thrill more intense than anything else in the world—more electrifying than the pleasure of mastering a martial art.
Hocheong's will to survive had grown even stronger. That was why, even though his two senior brothers of a lifetime had died horribly at Sun Wukong's hands, he had not drawn a blade of vengeance but had bowed his waist instead.
It was not simply because he feared Sun Wukong, who could kill him at any moment. The bait Sun Wukong had dangled was sweet.
Even the position of second-in-command after the Mugok Hall Master is far better than the power the entire Samcheong would have shared.
Certain authority. Certain power. Sun Wukong had seized upon Hocheong's desire. A leash that would fill those desires, and the terror of a steel staff that could smash his skull at any time. Those two things moved him. The steel staff right in front of his nose was more frightening than Honghaea far away.
Hocheong was in the palm of Sun Wukong's hand. Which meant the only opponent Sun Wukong needed to concern himself with was one person. The other power holder of the Wudang Sect.
"A pleasure, Teacher Sun."
The Mugok Hall Master, his eyes gleaming, greeted Sun Wukong. Unlike their first meeting, when his gaze had held a hint of goodwill, his eyes were strange now. It was the question of whether Sun Wukong had made progress with Hocheong's side, given how frequently the two of them had been meeting. Asking directly was difficult, given the Mugok Hall Master's nature.
Sun Wukong spoke first instead.
"Worried that I've taken Hocheong's side?"
"...Haha. We're all family of Wudang. What is there to worry about?"
"I don't like beating around the bush. And Wudang is still a world where people live. What else would you expect?"
The Mugok Hall Master fell silent and studied him.
A forgotten successor who had inherited the lineage of Founder Jang Sambong. The prestige of deep ties with the Namgung Clan. The practical benefactor who had resolved the Wudang blood tragedy. And that was not all. Though excluded from factional and power struggles, his close relationship with Geumgak of the Six Harmonies Palace—nominally Wudang's highest institution—had been revealed at yesterday's ritual to Taesangnogun.
How can a man who never once showed his face at Wudang in his entire life rise so suddenly to the very heart of the sect?
It was bizarre. Bizarre enough to raise questions.
"Factional fighting isn't a bad thing. You need factions, yeah? They compete and they develop. How do you stop grown adults from having factional fights? It's not kids squabbling."
"...What are you thinking, Teacher Sun?"
"Embrace them all, Hall Master."
"Embrace... you mean accept them?"
The Mugok Hall Master shook his head.
"Hocheong is a greedy man. And now he even has considerable support. Because it is becoming certain that the two elders commissioned the assassination of our Sect Leader and master."
"So you're saying he's too much to embrace?"
"In the end I will have to acknowledge him and treat him accordingly. Of course, I don't begrudge that. But will Hocheong be satisfied with just that?"
"Is that the only reason?"
Sun Wukong quietly held the Mugok Hall Master's gaze. These were not a Taoist's eyes. They were the eyes of a thorough martial artist. He could see why the Sect Leader had taken a separate disciple for Taoist learning. The Mugok Hall Master was less a Taoist of the Wudang Sect than a thorough martial artist, much like Namgung Jinbaek.
Martial artists generally possess a powerful sense of self. What that meant was obvious.
"You mean you can't share any more power."
"...You're a remarkable man, Teacher Sun."
The Mugok Hall Master spoke as if the strength had gone out of him, his face hollow.
"It's shameful, but you're right. As a Taoist I failed to abandon desire, and as a martial artist I possess it. That's all."
"You're the Sect Leader's disciple anyway, and given time Hocheong will grow old and die. In the end you'll hold all the power, won't you?"
"Hocheong is not a man to be taken lightly."
"Hmm."
Sun Wukong crossed his arms. He had told Hocheong to be content as second-in-command, so the man would not reach for more—not unless he was mad enough to defy Sun Wukong's iron command. The Mugok Hall Master did not know that. He had spent a lifetime locked in a battle of wills with the Samcheong. He probably thought it was because he was still weaker than Hocheong.
Humans are beings made of desire.
Truly pitiful creatures, clinging to their five worldly cravings. Desire is the driving force of humanity.
If you fill their desires, they won't even notice the leash around their own necks.
Just like Hocheong.
Sun Wukong grinned and said to the Mugok Hall Master,
"If that thought comes from your authority being overshadowed by Hocheong's, then it's simple."
"Simple?"
"Authority so clear-cut that Hocheong won't be able to say a word."
The Mugok Hall Master smiled bitterly. The current reality was that even the authority of being the Sect Leader's last personal disciple only barely kept them even. What more could be done from here?
"There is a way."
Sun Wukong grinned as if he could see right through him.