Thereβs something Iβd like to ask. (1)
If asked why he had come here, Chung Myung himself couldnβt really explain the reason.
Words like pity or understanding didnβt quite fit. The one buried before his eyes had no right to be pitied. Even less a right to be understood.
Even this unsightly grave felt excessive for Jang Ilso. In Chung Myungβs heart there wasnβt a speck of pity for Jang Ilso. He could be sure of that at least.
Even so, Chung Myung came here now.
If he said he just wanted to, would that be laughable? Perhaps those words from back then – saying he now wished to do as his heart led him – was what guided Chung Myungβs steps here. His heart that simply wanted to act, beyond duty and reason.
βWhat bullshit.β
Chung Myung let out a faint snort.
Trying to explain what canβt be clearly explained is a foolish act. Pretending to understand a problem that cannot be solved only produces a wrong answer. In the end, it will be nothing but an excuse.
Chung Myung admitted it. This was a mere whim, nothing more, nothing less.
βIβm the idiot who canβt resist a whim even in a situation like this.β
He couldnβt deny this fact.
βSo thenβ¦β¦β
As he uncorked the bottle, Chung Myung muttered. The harsh scent of liquor pricked his nose. He knocked back a generous mouthful without hesitation, then roughly wiped his lips. Then he tilted the bottle over the low mound on which not even grass had grown.
Trickle, trickle, trickle.
The clear liquor fell, drawing a long line. The dark red earth deepened in color.
βBe grateful and drink it up. A stupid Sapa bastard like you wonβt ever get the chance to taste the liquor given to you by a Taoist.β
Trickle, trickle, trickle.
After letting the liquor drip for a while like that, Chung Myung brought what remained back to his own lips.
Immersed in his solitary toast, he abruptly let the words slip out.
βYou who always acted smartβ¦ Why did you act so stupid. You could have stopped before it got this far. You pathetic idiot.β
Even if, after defeating Chung Myung, he had seized the world for a brief moment, the ending awaiting Jang Ilso would not have been much different. Jang Ilso must have known that full well.
There was only one way to avoid the predetermined tragedy⦠No, the only way to even delay it, was to stop before crossing the line.
But Jang Ilso chose, instead of stopping, to press forward until the very end. Even though he knew full well that at the end of it a wretched death awaited him.
Chung Myung muttered.
βYou, thatβs what you felt you had to do.β
Because he would have had to carry through what he wanted to believe in. Had he collapsed in despair before that distant, towering wall, he would have truly become a nobody.
For Jang Ilso, for a man like Jang Ilso, that would have been a humiliation so immense it couldnβt even be compared with something like death.
βYou couldnβt have done otherwise, rightβ¦β
To deny himself, or to accept death. Of these two, what Jang Ilso would choose had been obvious without even asking.
βYeah, I know. And soβ¦β
Chung Myungβs gaze turned towards the sky. Clear and spotless, so blue it almost stung, yet today it felt somewhat oppressive.
βI hate people like you.β
Is a life lived under humiliation, a life bent and broken, truly less than a proud death? Should one really deem it right to throw away oneβs life for an ideal?
Of course, to some it will seem unspeakably noble, and to others utterly vile. Yet whichever path a man takes, Chung Myung could never, in the end, empathize with it.
That kind of life was too cruel.
An ideal so unyielding it does not bend, sometimes devours not only oneself but everything around it. To those blinded by a dazzling light, nothing around them is visible but the radiance.
Yes, just likeβ¦
Chung Myung once again tilted the bottle over Jang Ilsoβs grave. Then, as if it were part of a set ritual, he brought it to his own lips. As though toasting one who doesnβt exist and speaking with one who is no longer here.
βThereβs something Iβd like to ask. Back thenβ¦ why did you smile?β
Naturally, no answer came back. No one would hear it. Because the dead cannot speak.
After a long silence, Chung Myung opened his mouth again.
βI donβt know what I was to you. I donβt even want to know. But to me, you wereβ¦ someone I felt I could never understand, and yet somehow felt I could.β
It was hard to deny the resemblance. But it was just as clear that they were extremely different.
Alike yet different, beings walking on parallel lines that would never meet. Was that not Chung Myung and Jang Ilso?
βAt times I could almost grasp it, as if it were in my hand. What you were thinking, what you were feeling.β
Muttering quietly, Chung Myung stared vacantly down at the red earth that covered Jang Ilsoβs corpse.
βBut that last expression I saw on your faceβ¦ No matter how much I think of it, I canβt figure it out.β
It was the final moment of his life.
He had thrown away everything. His life, the things he had built over a lifetime, even what might have been more precious than his life – he had burned it all to reach the end of the road.
At the moment when all of that collapsed, how was Jang Ilso able to smile?
Relief? Self-mockery? Or perhaps emptiness? The petty self-satisfaction of one who had struggled to the end against an insurmountable wall?
To Chung Myungβs eyes, it seemed to be none of them. If it had been a feeling so easy to grasp, Chung Myung would have had no need to come all the way here.
That face in those final moments would not leave his mind. Jang Ilsoβs expression, like a brand, kept circling in his thoughts. Perhaps it would remain a question that would never be answered for the rest of his life.
He fixed a heavy gaze on Jang Ilsoβs grave.
Before the year is out, this grave will be covered with grass. The ground, raised only slightly if at all, will be hidden by the undergrowth, and worn down by wind and the feet of wild beasts until it grows flat.
And so, before long, no one would be able to find it.
βHup.β
Chung Myung rose to his feet.
He wished to leave behind neither ridicule nor pity. He poured the liquor in the bottle, every last drop, over the mound. After staring for a long while at the rough grave, Chung Myung slowly turned away.
βThough I may loathe you as a person, I donβt wish to condemn your choice. Once, I too desperately wished for the choice you made.β
Chung Myung knew better than anyone how fierce that struggle was, how painful.
βBut listen. There are those in this world who stand against the despair you turned away from. Back then, and now.β
Chung Myung slowly closed his eyes.
Perhaps he himself was unworthy. But even if he were not, there were surely those in this world who were. Those whose βworthβ overflowed beyond measure.
βSo watch closely from here. We wonβt run away, and we wonβt give up. Even if what awaits at the end is destruction, I will fight to the very end.β
Perhaps this was what he had wanted to say.
These were words he could tell no one. Words he could only entrust to someone who would never hear them. Even if that someone had been his enemy.
Chung Myung took a step forward. Just as when he had come here – slow, dragging steps. Nothing had changed.
Step. Step.
His footsteps carried on without hesitation, as though intent on leaving nothing behind.
But then, Chung Myung suddenly turned his head, blankly scanning the empty air.
There was no way – there was no way he could have heard anything – yet a phantom voice brushed past. Puzzlement swept across his face.
What was that? Just now, clearlyβ¦
No one, nothing, gave Chung Myung an answer.
After a long while of searching the empty air, Chung Myung took in everything that entered his field of vision, without omitting a single detail. Then he moved his feet again. This time there was no such thing as stopping. Walking slowly without rest, Chung Myungβs figure gradually grew smaller and smaller.
And so, at last, in the empty field where Chung Myung had disappeared, only the harsh scent of liquor spread. The pungent fragrance thickened, then thinned with the wind, and soon scattered as though it had never been there.
All that remained was a faint lingering scent, settling with quiet sorrow.
β β β
Despite the presence of people, a heavy silence hung in the air. Gazes, cold like icy blades, clashed in midair.
As if glaring into a mirror image of themselves, neither retreating a step, the two who were evenly matched and pressing each other down with their energy moved their hands at the same time⦠and seized their teacups.
βMm.β
βHmm.β
As if displeased by the fact that they had grabbed the cups simultaneously, they simultaneously set them down again.
Then, just as at the start, they fell silent, glaring at each other.
The others, sick of this suffocating spectacle, exchanged looks.
βUm, Lee Sohyeop.β
βYes, Dojang.β
βSo thenβ¦ uh, on one side is the elder brother who tossed aside even the Sect Leaderβs order to go rescue his younger brother.β
βYes.β
βAnd on the other side is the younger brother who owes his life to that elder brother, right.β
βThatβs right.β
βSo the two of them seemed to not get along at all, but in truth they actually care for each other deeply.β
βStrictly speaking, it would be closer to say that the one who always seemed to torment the other was, in fact, devoted to his younger brother.β
βAnyway, thatβs what it is, isnβt it? Thatβs why we arranged a meeting like this…β
βYes.β
βThen why on earth are they doing that?β
Listening to the whispered questions, Lee Songbaek looked again at the two seated facing each other – two men whose very bearing, and even their faces, seemed alike, as if a bronze mirror were set between them.
A curious expression flickered across Lee Songbaekβs face.
βWell. Who knows.β
Lee Songbaek answered with a faint chuckle. For some reason, a very old memory surfaced.
βArenβt brothers all like that.β
At that moment, the two moved their hands again at the same time and grabbed the teacups set before them.
βMm.β
βAhem!β
Once more, with uncomfortable expressions, they set the cups down.
ββ¦..This is driving me crazy.β
βFeels like theyβve done that more than ten times.β
βIt is exactly the thirteenth.β
Wondering whether the two might end up slashing at each other(?), and even if not that, what might erupt between those brothers – the disciples of Hwasan and Jongnam, who had edged on their seats forward out of curiosity, now beat their chests in frustration and let out silent screams.
At that moment, Jin Geumryong, as the elder brother in name at least, was the first to speak.
βAre you alright?β
Baek Cheonβs expression turned strange. No, to be precise, it was closer to a grimace.
He knew the words were meant as concern, but hearing such words come out of Jin Geumryongβs mouth with his own ears made it feel as if worms laden with poison were crawling all over his body.
βWellβ¦β¦β
And whether that was fortunate or unfortunate, it seemed Jin Geumryong seemed to share the same sense of dread.
βSeeing you stabbed by those Sapa bastards and hanging between life and death, I couldnβt help but worry. How did someone like you end up coming from our clan.β
ββ¦What?β
When Baek Cheon flared up and sprang to his feet, Yoon Jong shouted in alarm.
βAh, no! Sasuk! You said you were going to thank him! Why are you doing this, for heavenβs sake! A life-saving grace! A life-saving grace!β
ββ¦β¦Ugh.β
Grinding his teeth hard, Baek Cheon reluctantly sat down again. Hearing Yoon Jongβs words as well, Jin Geumryong let out a snort, a smug look on his face.
βSo? What did you call me here for?β
βWellβ¦β¦β
Baek Cheonβs face flushed red.
Part of him wanted to flip the low tea table right this instant and storm off, but he had lectured about propriety too many times in front of these people to dare behave so outrageously. In any case, it was a fact that Jin Geumryong had saved Baek Cheon.
Even if it was so mortifying heβd rather bite through his tongue, he couldnβt deny the reality that had already happened.
βWellβ¦β¦β
βWhat?β
βThaβ¦β¦β
Baek Cheonβs voice slipped out like the squeak of an ant.
βWhat was that? I canβt hear you well.β
βThaβ¦β
Baek Cheonβs face twisted in a ghastly grimace. This was absurd. The words simply refused to leave his throat.
βGoing around doing things no one asked you to!β
βWhat? Is that what you say to the elder brother who saved your life?!β
βWho saved whose life? I could have handled it just fine without you. You only got in the way for nothing!β
βThis littleβ¦!β
Without either moving first, the two sprang to their feet at the same time and grabbed each other by the collars.
βI saved you because youβre still my younger brother, and you get so cocky.β
βWho is your younger brother? That bond was cut long ago!β
βFine then! Since I saved your life, Iβll take it back again!β
βHah! Try it if you can.β
Lee Songbaek and Yoon Jong stared blankly at the scene.
βNo.β
βBrothersβ¦β¦.β
Watching the gruesome spectacle along with them, Jo Geol miserably dragged both hands down his face.
ββ¦Those damned Jin Clan bastards are hopeless.β
No one could refute Jo Geolβs words.
________
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Return of the Mount Hua 
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