This Taste Is That Taste (3)
“Do it!”
The way he was throwing a tantrum was no different from some two-bit unorthodox punk.
“……”
“Don’t do it!”
This was a two-bit unorthodox punk.
“……”
It was nothing short of miraculous that this scene was unfolding inside the Shaolin abbot's chamber.
“Hey, senior brother! And grand senior uncle!”
“Hey! I told you, not senior brother!”
“Me too! Not grand senior uncle!”
Those two.
What the hell are they even doing right now?
Namgung Je-cheon sidled up to me and whispered.
“Total chaos, huh? Heh heh heh heh.”
This guy looked like he was having the time of his life. I couldn't tell if he was holding back laughter or just laughing on purpose.
Anyway...
“Do it!”
“I said don't!”
“Argh, enough! That old geezer talks too damn much!”
“W-What? You talking to me? To your master?”
“You're a master, alright—a master who ran away. What kind of master is that? Mad? Wanna go a round?”
Ilseon Dosa glared at Jinheo, eyes bulging.
I had no idea what he was like in his prime, but from what I could see, Jinheo's skills were strong enough to be hard to gauge.
“Urgh... my fate.”
Whether it was karma from past sins or whatever, Ilseon Dosa just thumped his innocent chest and swallowed his anger.
That's why the old saying warns against a life of sin. People really do grow by venturing out into the world.
“Um, both of you, please calm down first.”
“Calm down? Just do it already!”
“Don't!”
Jingak furrowed his brow. Just yesterday, he never imagined he'd be stuck in a situation like this.
He could barely handle being thrust into this seat out of nowhere, but then his grand senior uncle from over a decade ago pops up unannounced, the guy who'd been his senior brother until yesterday declares himself an outsider to Buddhism...
And now they were just talking over each other.
Should I just bail...?
He wasn't even officially the abbot yet. He'd only taken the role temporarily because, rank-wise, he was next after Jinheo.
“I know the skills of our third-generation disciples better than anyone.”
His senior brother glanced at the Namgung clan's youngest young master, then nodded.
“No way they'd lose. Of course not! The kids I raised!”
Jingak knew full well how much effort his senior brother had poured into those third-generation disciples. He nodded at Jinheo's words and glanced sideways.
There sat his grand senior uncle, face unchanged from over a decade ago. It didn't feel real.
They used to bicker like this whenever they got bored back in the day.
It felt just like old times—at least in vibe.
“For now, both of you, please calm down...”
“Fine! I'll yield a hundred times. But I have a condition!”
Like master, like disciple—they both ignored everyone else.
“Yield? Where'd you eat your conscience?”
“This punk! I'm your master!”
“That's why you dumped Shaolin and ran off, right?”
“Urgh...”
Their argument circled endlessly.
To Jingak, his grand senior uncle had no chance of winning this one.
Man, if it was gonna be like this, they should've just taken the abbot role themselves!
“Wanna be abbot again?”
“Hey! I'm an outsider now!”
“Same here!”
Jingak let out a sigh.
Maybe I should defrock too...
I shot Jingak a look of sympathy.
Tough break, man.
This must be the real weight of being abbot that Jinheo had mentioned. Herding those two headaches...
I knew the feeling all too well from dealing with my own rowdy Daegalbak uncles.
Every time Jingak sighed, I had to fight back my own. And since I was the one who'd caused this mess, I averted my eyes elsewhere.
Poke poke.
Then Namgung Je-cheon jabbed my back with his finger.
“What?”
I turned, and he gave a meaningful look at the three before whispering to me.
“Truly impressive. You've surpassed the Vehicle-Smashing Stratagem with the Abbot-Smashing Stratagem! Taking over Shaolin in a way I never could've imagined. I respect you all the more!”
Haa...
What wild fantasy was this guy spinning in his head now?
“Kekeke.”
That snub-nosed grandpa had been chuckling every now and then since earlier. Like something was hilarious.
This was maddening. Not a single helpful soul in sight.
If this dragged on, the new abbot would snap his prayer beads in half soon enough.
Whoa! His hand was already drifting toward them!
I spoke up quick.
“I know I'm in no position to butt in. But given the circumstances, how about a proposal? That okay?”
Thankfully, everyone perked up and listened.
I pressed on immediately.
“So, the former abbot approves the spar with me and the third-generation disciples, but he also wants to smash the monk grandpa's daegari, right?”
“Spot on. Gotta be at least a hundred smacks to vent.”
Ilseon Dosa started to bellow again, but I locked eyes with him and continued.
“And the monk grandpa doesn't wanna take a hundred hits, right?”
“Damn right!”
Finally, I turned to Jingak.
“And interim abbot, you're having trouble finding a decision that satisfies both, yeah?”
“Amitabha. Exactly.”
“Simple, then. In exchange for handing over the Great Victory Brahma Prajna Heart Method, I get my promised spars with the third-generation disciples, and you two sort your own beef. You're both outsiders to Shaolin now, aren't you?”
“W-Well... I'm still the former abbot?”
“You defrocked today.”
“……”
“Hey, young master. I'm still a living Buddha, y'know?”
Ilseon Dosa couldn't quite bring himself to say "former former abbot."
“Don't get petty about ancient history. You're just the guy sweeping the front yard these days.”
“……”
Jingak and Jinheo shot Ilseon Dosa incredulous looks at my words.
Is a living Buddha sweeping the yard such a shocker?
Sword Sovereigns prune branches too. Hm... actually, that did sound kinda weird now that I thought about it.
Guess I'd gotten too used to the sight.
“So, what do you think of my proposal?”
* * *
Guest quarters.
The place where visitors to Shaolin stayed.
Right now, I'd rented out the whole damn thing and was sprawled out flat.
“Exhausted.”
I hadn't done a thing today, but it felt like every drop of energy had been drained from my body.
“Youngest young master! I'm impressed all over again. Time for me to switch affiliations when we get back to the Namgung clan.”
Yeah, do whatever.
I didn't even have the strength to reply.
Namgung Je-cheon, tireless as ever, paced back and forth muttering to himself.
He probably thought he wasn't.
“All that's left is for you to take over Shaolin. Topple the leadership, then subdue the ranks below. Kyaa~ So cool.”
I rolled my eyes at him.
“Hey! You're distracting me—sit still!”
“Whoops! Got too excited, I guess.”
Namgung Je-cheon plopped down beside me.
He was still eyeing me with sparkling admiration. Kinda creepy.
“By the way, where'd those two wander off to?”
Ilseon Dosa and Mujikja had said they had somewhere to be and left right after we arrived here.
No clue where, but I could guess who they were off to meet.
* * *
Song Mountain wasn't just home to Shaolin.
Countless abandoned temples dotted the area.
In one such place, three figures faced each other.
Ilseon Dosa stared off into the distance.
Jinheo glared at him.
A bit apart, Mujikja watched with keen interest.
“You left like you'd never come back, so why show up now?”
To Jinheo's question, Ilseon Dosa answered with lost, distant eyes.
“What, did I show up somewhere I'm not allowed?”
Ilseon Dosa slowly turned, meeting Jinheo's gaze.
His eyes were complicated.
“Today's decision of yours was rash.”
Out came a rebuke.
“Did you take the position of Shaolin abbot so lightly?!”
And worry.
As a master.
As a Shaolin disciple who still carried the temple in his heart, even after leaving.
He hadn't shown it earlier, but Ilseon Dosa was furious.
“Any excuses?”
Ilseon Dosa expected Jinheo to snap back like always.
“It just didn't suit me, so I stepped down.”
But the voice that came was utterly calm.
“You knew that, which is why you left on your own, right?”
Ilseon Dosa looked at him in surprise.
His disciple had grown far beyond what he'd imagined in the time apart.
“Amitabha. You knew?”
“Found out today.”
Ambition.
A natural human emotion, one might say.
The desire to reclaim lost glory.
That was why Ilseon Dosa had left Shaolin.
He'd chosen ambition over the temple.
Back then, he'd believed it was for Shaolin's sake.
That if a man like him stayed, it wouldn't be the Shaolin of old anymore.
“So what now? That wasn't a decision made on a whim.”
“Eh, thinking of sweeping the yard myself. After smacking my worthless master's daegari a few times first.”
“Urgh...”
Ilseon Dosa groaned.
Not... twisting the knife, it seemed.
If anything, there was a strange sincerity in those words.
“What wind blew you back for real? Don't tell me it's that Namgung Daeso kid?”
From what Jinheo had seen, Namgung Daeso was certainly superior to average young martial artists his age.
But Shaolin had talents like that too.
Jinheo thought of one of the third-generation disciples.
Compared to that kid, Namgung Daeso fell a bit short—that was his judgment.
“Kekeke. Fun kid, that youngest young master.”
This time, Jinheo looked at Ilseon Dosa in shock.
Master admitting it straight up?
Even if he acted like that, he'd once been a living Buddha. Earning his approval wasn't easy.
“You'll see when you meet him. Can't explain it—gotta witness it yourself.”
“Hmph! Shaolin will win anyway. Youngest young master's talented, sure, but Shaolin ain't weak!”
Ilseon Dosa gazed at the sky.
It was a full moon tonight.
“Sorry.”
Jinheo flinched.
“Too late for that. Should've said it back then.”
“That too. Sorry.”
“Don't play master now. Just don't forget the bet. Got it?”
“Yeah.”
Jinheo hurried off.
Ilseon Dosa watched until he vanished.
Once he was gone, Mujikja finally spoke.
“You really plan to keep that promise?”
“Have to.”
Ilseon Dosa recalled their chat in the abbot's chamber.
-But I have a condition. After the spars with all third-generation disciples, hand that old man over to me. Just one day.
-That's really all?
-Yeah.
-Fine. You two agree?
-Eh, whatever... if senior brother and grand senior uncle don't object.
-I'm for it.
-Settled, then.
Ilseon Dosa turned to Mujikja.
“Can you do me one favor?”
“What?”
“Mind getting me a thunderstrike date tree?”
Mujikja's eyes flickered briefly, then returned to normal.
He could guess what Ilseon Dosa planned.
“Not impossible.”
“Thanks.”
“Buy me a drink later.”
“Keke, no worries. I've got a secret booze stash I hid in Shaolin back in the day. Must be perfectly aged by now.”
“I'll hold you to that!”
* * *
Guest quarters.
Snore snore.
Namgung Je-cheon had conked out early.
Sprawling out like that in someone else's sect—guy had nerves of steel.
The two old-timers still hadn't returned from wherever.
I leaned against the wide-open window, gazing at Shaolin's nightscape.
True to a temple, chants echoed from all around.
“Finally starting tomorrow, huh.”
Felt like sleep wouldn't come tonight.
Maha Prajna... Paramita Heart Sutra...
“Noisy.”