Sawangjeon, Countdown (1)
More than a month had passed since the day we were originally supposed to leave Sorimsa. The delay was entirely due to Ilseon Dosa, but since I had some things I wanted to refine here as well, I decided to stick around a bit longer.
"Can't... break it."
Now, if I sparred with I-gwon, I won nine out of ten times. I-gwon stared down gloomily at his fist, which was as big as a bear's paw.
Suddenly, he started twisting his head this way and that, scanning everywhere. He looked just like a bear hunting for prey.
"I wanna break somethin'! Instead of the young master, lemme smash my senior brothers' potheads! Gotta smash one today to sleep easy! I'm smashin' one tonight no matter what!"
The guy's a lunatic. Ever since that bald grandpa taught him martial arts separately, this weird affliction had gotten even worse.
Then, as if he'd spotted something, I-gwon's head locked in place and stopped moving.
I flinched. Way off in the distance, Pothead 49, who was training alone, started trembling violently.
"Target acquired! Found somethin' I wanna smash!"
I-gwon pounded his own head wildly as he yelled. I said it again—he's a lunatic.
Spotting the rampaging I-gwon, Pothead 49 didn't hesitate for a second before bolting away with lightness skill.
"Hey, that's your senior brother!"
I shouted at I-gwon's back as he charged like a mad bear prowling the foothills for food... no, just a berserk bear sprinting full tilt.
"It's fine. The Abbot said I can smash any pothead in Sorimsa."
Come to think of it, that defrocked monk grandpa wasn't exactly right in the head either. Sorimsa's gone nuts.
A lot had changed at Sorimsa over the past month. First off, the defrocked monk grandpa had become Abbot again. The biggest reason was that he'd beaten Interim Abbot Jingak in a fight. Pretty much everyone else wanted it that way too.
Above all, after some talk with the bald grandpa, the defrocked monk grandpa had quietly taken the Abbot's seat without complaint. The bald grandpa was now officially back as a member of Sorimsa.
The story was complicated, but basically, he'd run off alone and was too embarrassed to come back. Thanks to recent events, everything had worked out smoothly.
Should've done this ages ago. Looks way better this way.
"Heh heh, gotcha!"
"Guys, help! Hey, you bastards, why're you runnin'? I said help!"
Unfortunately, Pothead 49 got caught by I-gwon. The other potheads who'd been watching from afar, along with the third-generation disciples, bolted without looking back.
I remembered a time when senior brothers and juniors had real brotherhood. Guess nothing beats a good fist after all.
Back to the point—the bald grandpa had spent the month passing down Daeseung Beomcheon Banya Simgong and Dalma Yeongeun gyeong to his direct disciples, and he'd check on I-gwon's martial arts whenever he had time.
Today's transmission was the finale, so it was time to bid farewell to Sorimsa. With only five months left until Sawangjeon, we couldn't afford more delays anyway.
Heading back to the Namgung Family Estate stirred up some subtle, indefinable feeling in my chest.
"My second home...? Nah, not quite. Feels like crashing at a buddy's place?"
It's comfy. No need to watch your step. Can stretch out and sleep easy. Free meals. Why not just stay planted here?
"Pothead!"
"Guh... urk!"
Hearing the crisp crack of a head-smash, I went off to pack my things.
* * *
Ilseon Dosa was exchanging final goodbyes with his direct disciples.
"Jingak's been sharp since he was a kid, good at reading the room. Take care of him so Jinheo and Jingak don't cause trouble."
"Honestly, those two senior brothers are pretty immature."
"Wanna die?"
"Yeah, you wanna die?"
Jinheo and Jingak bristled.
Sigh...
Ilseon Dosa sighed inwardly at the sight of them and continued.
"The others don't worry me, but you two give me headaches."
"Why me?"
You don't know why? After all that, you call yourself human?!
"Grandmaster, I'm truly hurt."
Il-nama, how'd you raise disciples like these? What? You sayin' it's my place? Got nothin' to say, so I'm sufferin' in silence. Otherwise, I'd smash their heads right now, argh!!!
He was back at Sorimsa, but Ilseon Dosa still had to leave for the Namgung Family Estate. Knowing that, they didn't try to hold him.
"Jinheo."
Ilseon Dosa quietly called his sole disciple.
"Wh-what, Master?"
Jinheo wanted out of this sudden calm vibe from his master. Goosebumps prickled his skin. No matter how old he got, he could never get used to moments like this. He'd rather take the shouting from earlier martial arts lesson.
Ilseon Dosa just stared at Jinheo for a long while after that. As Jinheo couldn't stand the awkwardness and was about to snap, Ilseon Dosa spoke.
"I'm sorry."
Jinheo's face crumpled, smoothed, grinned, grimaced—twisted into something unreadable. Maybe inspired by Ilseon Dosa's courage, Jinheo resolved to say what he'd never dared before.
The other disciples fell silent out of respect for them. Jinheo fiddled with the dirt under his heel and mumbled.
"I... I'm sorry too."
"Heh heh."
Ilseon Dosa chuckled. Jinheo chuckled back. Fine wrinkles spread across their faces. They looked utterly at peace.
* * *
At Sorimsa's mountain gate, all the disciples had turned out to see off Namgung Daeso's group.
"Pothead No.1, you're tensing your shoulders too much when you unleash One Hand Fist."
"Yes, sir! I'll fix it!"
"Good. Next, Pothead No.2, you lack boldness. Spar once a day with Pothead 100, and you'll overcome it."
"With... 100?"
"Yeah. Don't wanna?"
"N-no, sir! I'll fix it!"
"Good, next."
I felt a pang at just leaving, so I gave some advice to the potheads I'd grown fond of. Namgung Je-cheon watched proudly, smiling.
Mujikja, curious, asked, "Why the grin?"
"Just happy, heh heh."
The laughter grated, but Mujikja held back and asked again. He still hadn't heard why the guy was chuckling to himself.
"Happy about what?"
"Why tell you? You'll see. The Youngest Young Master is making Sorimsa's future pillars his subordinates, isn't he?"
Hm? Subordinates?
"Your lower body's weak. Add 20 duck walks."
"Understood!"
"Your weight shift is slow in footwork. Add 30 duck walks."
"I'll fix it."
"You..."
Namgung Daeso kept chatting with the third-generation disciples. Mujikja nodded in amazement.
Impressive...
It looked like a master advising juniors, but the juniors' reactions were unique.
Disciplined, or overly militarized?
It evoked an army, but in the murim world, it was natural.
Problem is, they're not superior and subordinate.
"Sir!"
"Music to my ears. Answer like that from now on."
"Thank you, sir!"
"Happy New Year!"
"Long life and health!"
"What're you sayin'? I'm still spry!"
The third-gen responses were escalating, but whatever. As long as it wasn't our Mu-dang faction.
Oh!
Mujikja felt like a bolt had struck his crown and pierced to his perineum.
"And haah... Pothead!"
"You call me? Time to smash?"
"Go easy, easy. Got it?"
"Got it. I'll smash easy!"
If the Young Master invaded Mu-dang? Could our third-gen handle him? Could they even beat him?
The answer was obvious.
Never let the Youngest Young Master near Mu-dang!
Namgung Je-cheon continued, "What a beautiful sight. Next time, when we have time, we should invite the Youngest Young Master to Mu-dang."
Mujikja seriously pondered smashing this lunatic's pothead right then.
The long farewell finally ended. I glanced around, worried I'd dragged it out, and quickly stepped back.
"Ahem!"
Ilseon Dosa cleared his throat awkwardly. The goodbyes were done. He'd lacked courage to hand over what he wanted to give, so he'd left it secretly. Same with unspoken words.
Ilseon Dosa reverently pressed his palms together with his one remaining arm.
"Amitabha."
A dark, ancient rosary bead slipped from his bowed neck.
Jinheo's lip twitched upward unseen. He'd carried that rosary since that day over a decade ago. He'd given it to Ilseon Dosa a month back, but the old monk had never worn it.
To show it on departure day...
Thwack!
Jinheo slammed his staff down. All Sorimsa disciples focused.
Lukok Buljang.
Putting aside his childlike demeanor, Jinheo spoke as Abbot.
"On behalf of Sorimsa, I reflect on failing to recognize your sacrifices and efforts. From now on, come anytime you wish. We acknowledge you as Sorimsa's guest. I swear it before the Lukok Buljang as Abbot."
Ilseon Dosa, still bowed, replied, "Amitabha. My thanks."
And so, everything at Sorimsa came to an end.
* * *
Back in the Abbot's quarters, Jinheo stared at his desk in shock. Two items sat there.
Shh. Shh. Shh.
Unfolding the neatly folded paper revealed a few lines.
[Uh, y'know, too embarrassing to say in person, so I wrote it. Spent a year making this, so don't toss it again. And... uh... thanks.]
Jinheo picked up the other item. Identical to the rosary he'd given Ilseon Dosa, but fresher to the touch.
Clink.
Hanging it around his neck brought a cool sensation and faint anti-demon qi.
"Wall Tree Wood? Where'd he get this?"
Jinheo fiddled with the new rosary, grinning purely like a child.
"Senior Brother's lost it now that Grandmaster's gone."
"Leave him be. Not the first time."
"True enough."
The direct disciples shook their heads at Jinheo.
* * *
"Heh heh heh heh!"
On the road back to the Namgung Family Estate, we took it easy in a carriage. Once we were a good distance from Sorimsa, Namgung Je-cheon suddenly chuckled and pulled a wooden box from his bosom.
Click.
A clear fragrance filled the air as he opened it. Staring inside, tears welled in his eyes.
"How long... how long I've waited for this day!"
Namgung Je-cheon carefully plucked a Hwandan from the box like a treasure and popped it in his mouth with trembling hands. It melted gently on his tongue and slid down his throat.
"Ahhh! This is the taste!"
Then—
Lick, chomp chomp.
"Tasty, huh? Spirit medicine?"
Lick, smack smack.
"Ho! Summoning Pill, eh. Good tonic after ages. Thanks."
Lick.
Munch munch.
"Our Je-cheon's got a knack for this stuff. Huh? One left?"
Pluck, nom~!
The Hwandan in the box vanished in seconds.
"Wha... wha... wha... wha...."
Namgung Je-cheon was speechless, utterly shocked. The box dropped limply and shattered under a horse's hoof with a crunch.
From the day he'd beaten Jinheo in that bet until now, he'd endured, waiting for this...
Ilseon Dosa said, "What, pissed? Then come at me."
Mujikja added, "You know it—attack, and you die, I live."
Namgung Daeso scratched his head. "Uh... sorry. Can't help eatin' pills on sight—habit. First Yeongdan, though? Yum. More?"
Namgung Je-cheon made a new vow that day. Never! In front of these damn beggar bastards! Will he eat spirit pills!
His greatest rebellion now: "Don't talk to me from now on!"
"Tsk tsk, sulkin' over that."
"Back in my day..."
"But Je-cheon, really no more?"
"Argh, damn it! Enough!"
Don't talk to me! Damn it all—revenge someday.