Chapter 145
Chapter 145
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 145
Chapter Title: The Monk, Wu Seong (3)
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*Creeeak—*
The moment Ouyang Jue stepped into the Main Hall, all eyes turned to the entrance.
From Monk Mun-o of the radical faction, a look of annoyed discontent.
Monks Mun-jeong and Wu Seong shared an expression of indescribable complexity.
Among them, only Liu Zhangming remained composed.
Despite being in the enemy territory of the Shaolin Temple, surrounded by masters stronger than himself.
Seeing him, Ouyang Jue offered a faint smile.
“Handyman, what business do you have in the Main Hall?”
But at Monk Mun-jeong’s wary tone, Ouyang Jue’s smile vanished.
“I came because I have something to discuss privately with the Abbot or Monk Wu Seong.”
“...Discuss? And what is with that Daoist robe?”
Monk Mun-jeong’s gaze had suddenly turned cold.
Had the warmth he had shown until now vanished? Or had he merely been feigning such a nature?
Ouyang Jue’s mind raced.
If one of the Eight Evils had infiltrated Shaolin so deeply, their rank must be high. Not even the Abbot could be excluded from that possibility.
But he couldn't openly question him here and now.
Rank, martial prowess, even the difference in reputation between the Mount Hua Sect and the Shaolin Temple.
He held no advantage in any of these.
Even if Bai Duanxian were here, would anything have changed?
Ouyang Jue shook his head inwardly. Unless Jin Mu-wol himself came, they would be helplessly pushed back.
But this was his only chance.
‘This situation, created by the altered message, this small crack where the moderates and radicals clash in discontent.’
It was time for a sharp blade to force that crack open.
Ouyang Jue, who had lowered his eyes for a moment, raised them again.
An unusual light flickered in Monk Mun-jeong’s eyes as their gazes met.
Just what was this man about to say?
Sensing a slight tension from Monk Mun-jeong, Ouyang Jue unconsciously twisted a corner of his lip and sent a telepathic message to Liu Zhangming.
-Senior Brother, please reveal that I am a disciple of Mount Hua.
-…?!
-We didn't know each other.
At those words, Liu Zhangming’s eyes widened in shock for a moment. But thanks to that, his awkward acting was concealed beneath genuine surprise.
“You, aren’t you Jue?!”
“Jue… could it be… the Plum Blossom Divine Dragon, Ouyang Jue?!”
Even the martial monks standing silently in formation could not hide their agitation.
What, then, of Monk Jeok-won, who had taken him in as a handyman?
Feeling a strong sense of betrayal, Monk Jeok-won roared at Ouyang Jue.
“You’ve been deceiving me all this time?!”
“I am sorry, Master.”
Ouyang Jue bowed respectfully to Monk Jeok-won, then turned his head toward Monk Mun-jeong, whose wariness had intensified.
“But there is a reason I shaved my head and came here without even informing my senior brother.”
“...Hmph.”
As if deep in thought, Monk Mun-jeong let out a heavy sigh.
“Since you say a Daoist had a reason to go so far as to shave his head, I will forgive you this time.”
“Thank you.”
“However, if your reason is not justified, young sir, you will be sent to the Disciplinary Hall…”
Before he could finish, Ouyang Jue nodded readily.
“I know. I came here prepared for that.”
“Well... very well. So, what is the reason you hid from everyone’s eyes and infiltrated the Shaolin Temple?”
As he spoke, Monk Mun-jeong secretly studied Liu Zhangming’s face.
For a moment, a pang of worry shot through his heart.
‘...Was I worrying for nothing?’
Perhaps from building his reputation and gaining experience in the martial world, his old, naive demeanor had mostly disappeared.
Ouyang Jue drew courage from that.
‘Senior Brother Liu is trying so hard. I can’t afford to fail.’
The most important task was to determine if one of the Eight Evils was present, and if so, who it was.
And then, to subjugate that member of the Eight Evils with the help of the Shaolin Temple.
‘If that happens, we will have used Shaolin’s power to kill one of the Eight Evils, and our relationship with the Mount Hua Sect will turn favorable.’
Ouyang Jue’s mind worked ceaselessly as he scanned the assembly.
Monk Jeok-won, who still glared at him, unable to shake off the feeling of betrayal, and Monk Mun-o, the head of the radical faction, with his displeased expression.
Moreover, a subtle current seemed to flow between Monk Mun-jeong and Monk Wu Seong, as if they were conversing telepathically.
Fearing the situation would end just like this, Ouyang Jue’s hands tensed.
Just then, a method suddenly came to mind.
‘It’s risky, but now I have no choice but to make direct contact using the Diamond Fist-Seal Armor.’
A sacred artifact of Shaolin, said to have existed since the era when demons ran rampant hundreds of years ago.
Just as it had with the young monk. The Diamond Fist-Seal Armor not only had the ability to convert internal energy into flames, but it could also identify the presence of demonic energy nearby.
It was vibrating even now, sensing the faint demonic energy of the Eight Evils. What would happen if it made direct contact with skin?
Ouyang Jue looked at Monk Mun-jeong and Monk Wu Seong.
‘Before dealing with the altered message, I first need to identify who is driving this situation.’
It was right to choose one of them and check first.
The one most wary of him was Monk Mun-jeong, and the one directly related to the message was Monk Wu Seong.
Both were equally suspicious.
Therefore, Ouyang Jue first spoke to the one who could confirm the matter of the young monk.
“Monk Wu Seong.”
“Why do you call me?”
“This is a matter I should originally discuss with the Abbot... but I have something to ask you first. Could we speak privately?”
At those words, Monk Mun-o’s lips curved into a subtle arc.
Monk Wu Seong’s defense of Monk Mun-jeong had begun to undermine the radical faction through authority, but that had just been halted by Ouyang Jue's words.
“Young Sir Ouyang, is it possible that what happened to the young monk is related to Monk Wu Seong?”
Ouyang Jue immediately sensed the answer Monk Mun-o was hoping for and gave a vague reply.
“I cannot say anything at this moment.”
“...Is that so?”
Monk Mun-o’s eyes narrowed.
“Wasn’t it the Abbot’s master, Monk Cheong-myeong, who insisted on making Wu Seong the Guardian Monk?”
“Do not speak so carelessly!”
As Monk Mun-jeong cried out in a harsh tone, Monk Mun-o smiled quietly and took a step back.
“No, I was just saying. After all, a disciple of Buddha would never use the sorcery of the Demonic Cult.”
“...Enough.”
Monk Wu Seong cut Monk Mun-o off and looked down at Ouyang Jue.
Seeing the complex emotions flowing like a torrent in Monk Wu Seong’s eyes, Ouyang Jue swallowed hard.
While this subtle war of nerves unfolded, Monk Jeok-won roared in anger.
“How can we trust him?!”
“Enough!”
When Monk Wu Seong shouted, his voice amplified with internal energy, Monk Jeok-won flinched and stopped speaking.
Watching this, Ouyang Jue sneered inwardly.
A confrontation between those with different intentions.
The moderates and the radicals, or Monk Mun-jeong and Monk Mun-o.
He had released a poison among them.
A poison with no substance, called falsehood.
“Let’s step outside, Young Sir Ouyang.”
At Monk Wu Seong’s words, Ouyang Jue nodded readily.
*Thud, thud.*
Following Monk Wu Seong, Ouyang Jue walked to a corner of the Shaolin Temple.
As he walked, he intermittently memorized the layout and paths of the temple.
He couldn't memorize it all at once, but his sharp eyes moved quickly, learning at least the escape routes.
Then, Monk Wu Seong stopped. They were at the Abbot’s quarters, where Monk Mun-jeong resided.
In a space so small that it would be full if just one person lay down, a statue of Buddha and an incense burner were neatly placed.
‘So this is the Abbot’s quarters of the Shaolin Temple.’
He had only heard of it, but this was the first time he had actually entered, so Ouyang Jue looked around.
“It is a small and humble place, but at least no disciples will come and go here.”
At those words, Ouyang Jue’s gaze shifted to Monk Wu Seong.
Perhaps because the space was so cramped, they were close enough for their breaths to mingle.
He thought that this time, he would surely be able to read Monk Wu Seong’s mind... but there were no openings.
Ouyang Jue gave an awkward smile.
“I see.”
“So, what was it that you wanted to ask me first?”
Even though Monk Wu Seong tilted his head, seemingly relaxed, Ouyang Jue couldn’t inject his internal energy into the Diamond Fist-Seal Armor.
At such a close distance, he would surely detect even the smallest amount of internal energy.
Since it had come to this, he had no choice but to ask what he was curious about.
Ouyang Jue’s lips parted slightly.
“Did you truly not alter the message, Master?”
“What reason would I have to change it?”
Monk Wu Seong continued with a strange smile.
“Even without such schemes, the Abbot, Monk Mun-jeong, and the other martial monks already follow me.”
“…”
The atmosphere of the conversation changed.
The moment Ouyang Jue circulated his Purple Mist Divine Arts, Monk Wu Seong placed a hand on his shoulder.
It was a tacit expression, a sign that he had no intention of fighting right now.
Just then, the Diamond Fist-Seal Armor began to tremble slightly.
‘No way.’
As Ouyang Jue’s eyes widened, Monk Wu Seong, for whatever reason, removed his hand from his shoulder.
“Back down now. If you don’t, there will be nothing I can do.”
“Are you threatening me?”
“Threatening you?”
For an instant, Monk Wu Seong’s face seemed to contort. But when Ouyang Jue blinked, a gentle expression had settled in its place.
This was a different man from the Monk Wu Seong that Bai Duanxian had described.
As Ouyang Jue’s expression gradually twisted in horror, Monk Wu Seong offered a faint smile.
“I have watched your struggles well, young sir. But this is only a temporary problem. A wound that will eventually be stitched up.”
“…”
“If you back down now, I will not touch the Mount Hua Sect for the next year. But if you continue to sow chaos in Shaolin with baseless rumors…”
The hem of Monk Wu Seong’s robes fluttered.
He must be trying to pressure him with his formidable internal energy.
Sensing this, Ouyang Jue frowned.
“Did you think you could threaten me into backing down with your pathetic influence and reputation?”
“...What did you say?”
Ouyang Jue smirked.
“You must have thought it would be easy to handle a junior like me. As Monk Wu Seong, the former Guardian Monk and a master of Shaolin.”
“You insolent whelp!”
As Monk Wu Seong abandoned the gentle demeanor he had maintained and revealed his fury, Ouyang Jue gripped Severing Manifestation.
Until a moment ago, he had been shocked by Monk Wu Seong’s change, but now he could see some of his inner thoughts.
‘Is he planning to take over the Shaolin Temple completely?’
He didn’t know the original content of the message, but it seemed the altered version had actually hindered Monk Wu Seong’s true goal.
Above all, the Diamond Fist-Seal Armor was vibrating fiercely.
Ouyang Jue muttered in a low voice.
“How dare a mere demon call a Daoist an ‘insolent whelp’.”
“...!”
*CRASH!!*
Ouyang Jue struck the wall with fifty percent of his power and burst out of the Abbot’s quarters.
It was a judgment call; not only could he not handle Monk Wu Seong at close range, but he also anticipated a swift attack.
Of course, his prediction was correct.
“I’ll have to dispose of you before you can blabber to the others.”
Monk Wu Seong followed him out.
‘If I had been even a moment later, I’d have been in big trouble...’
Ouyang Jue brushed the goosebumps from his skin as he looked at the stone dust scattered where he had just been standing.
Just then, he heard urgent footsteps from behind.
“What in the world is happening?!”
“Junior Brother!”
It seemed Monk Mun-jeong and Liu Zhangming had heard the commotion from the Abbot’s quarters and rushed over.
Monk Mun-o and the other martial monks followed close behind.
Seeing them, Monk Wu Seong pointed at Ouyang Jue and shouted.
“This whelp is…”
‘An opening!’
If Monk Wu Seong was truly one of the Eight Evils, the fiery energy dwelling in the Diamond Fist-Seal Armor would surely expose his true identity.
Ouyang Jue kicked off the ground and swung his fist with all his might.
*CRACK!!*
As Ouyang Jue’s fist slammed into Monk Wu Seong’s cheek, the mask-like thing covering his face shattered and fell to the ground in pieces.