Chapter 205
Chapter 205
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 205
Chapter Title: Frolic Festival
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Dang Mujin's group watched Venerable Dam Jeong's cremation ceremony before departing from the Shaolin Temple, and the temple's monks came out one after another to see them off.
The group had numbered four when they entered the Sima family estate, but by the time they left the Shaolin Temple, they had become five. Just as everyone had expected, Hong Geolgae had decided to look after Wang Jinching for the time being.
After walking for quite some time like that, Dang Mujin's group learned a new fact through Hong Geolgae.
"Venerable Dam Jeong was the previous Shaolin abbot?"
"That's what I heard. I learned it from the head of the Nahantang division."
Dang Mujin had never known who the previous abbot was in the first place, so he just accepted it, but Namgung Myeong and Hyeon Gong looked puzzled.
"I thought the previous abbot was Venerable Seon Gak."
"They say Venerable Dam Jeong came after Venerable Seon Gak. Xin Sheng, Dam Jeong's disciple, surpassed his master's achievements at too young an age, so Dam Jeong didn't hold the abbot position for long and passed it on."
Since the disciple had surpassed the master's achievements, it must have been hard for Venerable Dam Jeong to hold onto the abbot's seat.
In truth, even without Xin Sheng, Venerable Dam Jeong wouldn't have been able to maintain the position due to the mental anguish he suffered.
Hyeon Gong thought quietly for a moment before asking Hong Geolgae.
"Hong Geolgae, you said you learned some strange martial art from Venerable Dam Jeong, right?"
Hong Geolgae frowned, apparently displeased with Hyeon Gong's phrasing.
"Strange martial art?"
"Namgung Myeong said Venerable Dam Jeong was a bit of an odd fellow. If you meet an odd person and learn a martial art while drunk on liquor, anyone would say it's not a normal one."
Hong Geolgae bristled.
He wanted to explain right then how incredible the Drunken Eight Immortals Steps were and the profound meaning it held.
But to talk about the excellence of the Drunken Eight Immortals Steps, he would have to reveal every overly human—and frankly, somewhat unsightly—aspect of Venerable Dam Jeong.
Instead of exposing all of Venerable Dam Jeong's human anecdotes, Hong Geolgae decided on a partial compromise.
"Well, the Drunken Eight Immortals Steps isn't some commonplace martial art. There aren't many as unique as this one. Anyway, why?"
"If you learned a martial art from Xin Sheng's master, doesn't that make you and Xin Sheng fellow disciples?"
Hong Geolgae pondered Hyeon Gong's question for a moment.
"Having the same master does make us fellow disciples, so it's not wrong. But Xin Sheng wouldn't see me that way. Otherwise, it'd make him a dog in the family tree."
"Why not twist the family tree a bit more while we're at it? It could be fun."
"How?"
"Take Wang Jinching as your formal disciple. Then his generation would be the same as Manryeokseung or the Disciplinary Hall Master."
Wang Jinching was fourteen years old.
Imagine a fourteen-year-old boy suddenly on the same generation level as the Shaolin Temple's key figures—what a shocking situation that would be.
Namgung Myeong sidled up to Wang Jinching and coaxed him slyly.
"Wang Jinching, you've already learned internal energy cultivation from Hong Geolgae, so you could practically call yourself his disciple. How about formally joining the Buddhist school and getting treated like a high-ranking figure?"
Namgung Myeong and Hyeon Gong's faces bore a strange madness. A pure madness born of wanting to sow chaos in the Shaolin Temple.
To make matters worse, Wang Jinching seemed tempted by Namgung Myeong's suggestion, so Hong Geolgae hurriedly dissuaded him.
"Jinching, don't get swept up in this nonsense. When the age gap is that big, generation doesn't matter much. Especially since I can't even publicly claim to be Venerable Dam Jeong's formal disciple."
Wang Jinching looked subtly disappointed. But his disappointment meant he understood the story.
Dang Mujin grinned at the sight before asking Hong Geolgae.
"By the way, did you make any progress during your stay at the Shaolin Temple?"
Hyeon Gong and Namgung Myeong perked up their ears, waiting for Hong Geolgae's answer. The atmosphere mixed exquisite traces of anticipation, regret, and mischief.
Hong Geolgae wore a subtle expression.
"Of course I made progress. I just couldn't break through that so-called wall."
"Hmm."
"But I can feel it. If a good opportunity comes, I can definitely advance to the next realm."
"Yeah?"
There are countless martial artists in Hong Geolgae's situation who fail to surpass the peak wall and end their lives that way.
However, Dang Mujin didn't bring up such talk. He knew Hong Geolgae was the most anxious about it.
Of course, Dang Mujin was the only one who didn't bring it up.
"The White Immortal of the Wudang Sect reached first-rate at seventeen. And four years ago, he welcomed his sixtieth birthday looking unchanged. Truly a man as steadfast as a pine tree."
"Don't worry, Hong Geolgae. If your cultivation gets too high, begging becomes inconvenient. It's better to be moderately approachable so people let their guards down around you. Besides, first-rate is perfect for drawing out sympathy."
Hong Geolgae unleashed killing intent toward the two monsters devoid of human empathy.
*
While heading south from Henan toward the Yangtze River.
At some point, Namgung Myeong's attitude had become strangely cautious. He spoke less and frequently glanced around uneasily.
"What's up with him lately?"
When Hyeon Gong asked, Dang Mujin answered nonchalantly.
"Anhui Province is right around the corner. He's on edge because he might run into Namgung family members anywhere."
Just as Dang Mujin said, Namgung Myeong grew more cautious the further south they went.
But at some point, Namgung Myeong's mood began to shift bit by bit. The anxiety faded, replaced by an inexplicable excitement and anticipation.
It was a change anyone could see was a bit odd. With the Namgung family drawing near, he should have been even more cautious.
In the end, Dang Mujin asked Namgung Myeong.
"Namgung Myeong, something up?"
"Why suddenly?"
"You seem expectant about something."
"Expectant? Nah... nothing like that. Oh, right. Now that I think about it, I have something to ask."
"What?"
"We're going straight down from here, taking a boat on the Yangtze to head back to Sichuan Province, right?"
"Yeah."
"I have some personal business. How about we split up here and meet at a dock near the Yangtze?"
It wasn't a difficult proposal. Both Namgung Myeong and Dang Mujin knew the local geography well enough.
But Dang Mujin felt a strange unease. The phrase "personal business" struck him as suspicious.
The approaching Namgung family. Personal business.
In that moment, a memory surfaced.
- You said before you wanted to see the Hwaryeon Sword, right?
Dang Mujin instantly understood everything.
"You're not thinking of sneaking into the Namgung family to steal the Hwaryeon Sword, are you?"
"Steal? I'm just inheriting it a little early."
Dang Mujin felt a faint dizziness.
Dang Mujin's group never stopped each other's foolish actions. Far from it—they subtly encouraged them. After all, nothing made for better stories than each other's idiocy.
But even foolish antics had their limits.
"If you do that, it won't end with just losing an arm. You could really die."
"Namgung family martial artists do not fear death."
"Dying in battle is one thing. Dying from something this stupid is another."
"Hmm..."
Namgung Myeong reluctantly nodded. But no matter how you looked at it, he didn't seem fully resigned.
In the end, to calm Namgung Myeong, Dang Mujin decided to tweak their route slightly, taking a path a bit away from the Namgung family.
Instead of going straight south, they veered slightly southwest to pass through Wuchang.
Upon hearing they would go via Wuchang, Hyeon Gong showed interest this time.
"Wuchang, huh. The timing is perfect."
"Why? Something there?"
"Of course. This year, it's Wuchang's turn to host the martial arts tournament."
Namgung Myeong and Hong Geolgae nodded, of course, as did Wang Jinching. But Dang Mujin had never heard of a martial arts tournament.
"Martial arts tournament?"
"Chang'an, Luoyang, and Wuchang take turns hosting it. This year Chang'an, next year Luoyang, the year after Wuchang, and so on. The younger generation from each sect gathers to test their skills. I hear only those thirty or under can participate."
Dang Mujin posed a question.
"Why the age limit?"
"Without it, core members or sect leaders would have to compete, and a humiliating loss would tarnish the sect's name. But for the younger generation, defeat carries less weight. Their rankings flip every year anyway."
"Hmm."
"Plus, without an age limit, the participants would be the same every year. One person could win repeatedly. Like if our Wudang Sect's Eternal Treasure Immortal won thirty years straight... It'd be the obvious result, but not fun for the spectators."
Hyeon Gong subtly emphasized the "Eternal Treasure Immortal is the world's greatest" theory, but Namgung Myeong and Hong Geolgae didn't seem to agree.
And Dang Mujin clearly read the anticipation in Hyeon Gong's voice.
"Hyeon Gong, you want to enter the tournament, don't you?"
"Not exactly, but if the chance comes, no reason to pass it up. There's honor, but prizes too."
Hyeon Gong tried to persuade Dang Mujin by leading with the prizes, but Dang Mujin cut him off coldly.
"No. We need to get back to Sichuan. The schedule's already delayed too much."
For a moment, Hyeon Gong nearly voiced the logic, "The one waiting in Sichuan Province is your wife, not mine," but he shut his mouth. Hyeon Gong's instincts didn't defy those in power.
Hyeon Gong nodded reluctantly.
"...Fine."
"If you want to compete, come separately next year or the year after. Got it?"
"Yeah."
Hyeon Gong looked extremely regretful but didn't oppose Dang Mujin.
*
However, as Wuchang drew near, an unexpected situation arose. Wang Jinching, who had been walking fine until the day before, suddenly collapsed.
"What's this? What's wrong all of a sudden? Jinching!"
Dang Mujin rushed over and checked Wang Jinching's pulse.
'The pulse is rapid and shallow. Children's pulses are naturally fast, but not this much.'
'He's feverish. And I don't think he urinated today.'
'Legs are swollen, and there's a yellow coating on his tongue.'
Dang Mujin quickly finished his diagnosis.
"It's not a serious illness. He's just exhausted."
Wang Jinching wasn't so young that he couldn't leave his parents' embrace. Nor had he been raised delicately like the child of a wealthy family.
'But we've been walking too long lately.'
A sudden thought also came to him.
"Hong Geolgae, you were taking Wang Jinching away every night to teach him internal energy cultivation, right?"
"Y-Yeah."
Wang Jinching started walking with Dang Mujin's group at dawn, matching their brisk pace until sunset.
Normally, he should have collapsed from exhaustion at night, but Hong Geolgae used that time to train him in internal energy cultivation.
Dang Mujin understood the intent to build up the internal energy gained from treating his blocked meridians in his dantian as much as possible.
But the excessive training must have placed an enormous burden on Wang Jinching's body. And with the recent hot weather, it was more surprising he hadn't collapsed sooner.
"You should have given him some rest too. Rest is just as important as training."
"I thought once his internal energy built up, his body would lighten, so this might be better..."
Hong Geolgae now realized his mistake and looked sheepish.
Just then, Wang Jinching regained consciousness, so Dang Mujin gave him water to drink and spoke.
"Jinching, when did you start feeling off? Not just one or two days, right?"
"I've felt heavy for about four or five days."
"You should have said something when you were tired."
"I thought I could hold out a bit longer... I'm sorry."
Wang Jinching apologized to Dang Mujin, not knowing what to do.
He hated showing weakness and had that oddly mature side—just like Hong Geolgae.
Dang Mujin stroked Wang Jinching's head and said.
"If it's hard, tell us ahead of time. Don't be so stubborn next time. Got it?"
"Yes."
At Dang Mujin's glance, Hong Geolgae hoisted Wang Jinching onto his back.
Dang Mujin pondered briefly before sighing.
"No helping it. If we rush onto a boat with him in this state, problems could arise. Let's rest in Wuchang for a few days."
Hyeon Gong nodded as if extremely regretful, but he looked subtly pleased.
*
Unlike the famine-stricken areas around Mount Song in northern Henan, Wuchang's atmosphere was much the same as before.
Merchants flocked from all directions, and it even seemed their crops hadn't failed badly.
Of course, failed harvests near Mount Song at Henan's northern edge didn't mean all of Hubei's would fail too. The Central Plains were vast.
As Dang Mujin looked around, he thought.
'If merchants could easily travel long distances, the people of Henan wouldn't starve.'
If they could boat to Henan, merchants could supply grain easily, but Henan didn't border the Yangtze.
At least the Yellow River skirted nearby, so if merchants came via it in droves, it would greatly help endure the famine.
Hyeon Gong vanished upon arriving in Wuchang. He apparently planned to enter the tournament while staying there.
Then, after half a day, Hyeon Gong returned with an utterly dejected expression.
Dang Mujin asked.
"What happened?"
"Registration's over. They said preliminaries are already done."
But unlike Hyeon Gong, Namgung Myeong wasn't disappointed at all. If anything, his face brimmed with anticipation.
Namgung Myeong stood up and said.
"The young master once said that the squabbles of fledglings are more entertaining than fights for the title of world's greatest."
All eyes turned to Namgung Myeong. His eyes sparkled brightly.
"Get up quick. Time to watch the first-rate nobodies put on their tricks."