I wish it would last. (8)
A large full moon hung at the tip of Hwasan’s lofty peak. The gentle moonlight caressed the steep mountainside.
In that deep stillness, a lonely figure was staggering up the steep slope of Hwasan, where a faint chill drifted through the air.
“Ugh, you really ought to just die once you get old. It’s not like I even drank that much…”
He had, in fact, drunk quite a lot.
Had he not accepted without refusal every drink the people of Hwaeum pressed on him, emptying them one after another? By the time everyone filling the inn had collapsed to the floor, he had surely emptied several jars at the very least.
With a long, lazy yawn, Chung Myung kicked off the cliff and soared upward.
His swaying body overlapped with the moon hanging in the sky. If anyone far below had witnessed this sight, they might well have spread a rumor that a drunken immortal lived on Hwasan.
In a flash he scaled the mountain and stepped into Hwasan’s inner grounds, then headed straight for a certain place.
Crossing the wide training grounds of Hwasan, filling his eyes with the sight of the mountain spread out on all sides, he finally came to a stop at one spot.
“…Hmm.”
Standing there with a faintly embarrassed expression, he scratched his chin.
Left alone for so long, it ought to have been an ugly sight with weeds growing all over it, but the mound before his eyes was neatly trimmed, as though it had been tended to only yesterday.
Someone from Hwasan must have already come by.
“You’ve got it easy, don’t you?”
Chung Myung blurted out sarcastically, then let out a short snort and plopped down on the spot. Come to think of it, Chung Jin naturally deserved this kind of treatment.
“Tsk.”
He knew that, yet he clicked his tongue as if still dissatisfied, then fished a liquor bottle out from inside his robes.
“Here, have a drink. Hm? You’re not in the mood for liquor? Doesn’t matter. I’m the one who wants to drink. Stop nagging and just drink.”
Chung Myung poured liquor over Chung Jin’s grave. However, the tilted bottle was soon set upright again.
“Just have a taste. Like always. No… like you used to.”
Chung Jin had never been particularly fond of alcohol.
Chung Mun had never outright refused a drink, but Chung Jin could not stand alcohol. He said he could not understand people who happily drank a poison that only ruined the body.
Of course, Chung Myung’s answer to that had been to shove a bottle into Chung Jin’s mouth.
Chung Myung took the bottle to his lips and tipped back his head. The strong liquor filled his mouth, releasing a thick scent of alcohol.
“Khhhhhhhh.”
Wiping the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, Chung Myung leaned his back against the burial mound and, half-lying there, stared vacantly at the moon hanging in the sky.
“It’s the moon.”
Chung Myung grinned.
“Hey, remember? Back in the day, you, me and Sahyeong… the three of us slipped out through the sect gate at dawn and went to an inn to pour drinks down our throats. That stubborn old man, of all people, said he’d come along with us.”
Looking back now, it must not have been that he was craving a drink. He had probably meant to keep an eye on Chung Myung so he wouldn’t cause trouble. But what did it matter? What mattered was that they had drunk together.
“That day, you kept downing liquor you couldn’t even handle and ended up passing out. Sahyeong overdid it too, stripped to the waist and kept singing his lungs out. I was the one groaning and dragging you both back up Hwasan. Right?”
If Chung Jin had been sitting across from him, he would have snapped, ‘Get your story straight. We were the ones who washed Sahyeong off by the well when he was sprawled in the street throwing up, and carried him back up.’
“And then, of all people, we had to run into the Sect Leader and got scolded half to death.”
Chuckling to himself, Chung Myung took another swig of liquor. Then, without a word, he blankly stared at the moon in the night sky.
“Chung Jin-ah.”
There was no answer.
“Honestly, I don’t even know what this feeling is myself.”
It was only a monologue. Words that reached no one could only ever remain one.
“I know everything changes. I know it has to change. But… it’s strange. Watching things change doesn’t feel entirely good.”
Chung Myung gave a faint, stifled laugh.
“That inn where you, me, and Sahyeong… drank together, those grimy, worn-out chairs…”
His words trailed off for a moment and he tipped his head back.
“Things have gotten old. Yeah…… it’s only right that they change.”
He closed his eyes.
If one had to put a name to this feeling, it would have to be ‘regret.’ Not regret that Hwaeum was changing, but regret that the traces of those who had remained in Hwaeum were fading away.
– Why are you going out of your way to have such useless thoughts? That’s just how it is.
If it were Chung Jin, he would certainly have said that. He probably would have been perfectly fine with being forgotten, too. But…
“The ones left behind can’t do that.”
Someone who ought to be forgotten but cannot be, can only stand by helplessly and watch as the things that are fading away slip from his reach.
Perhaps what Chung Myung truly feared was not that their traces would vanish, but that his memories would grow dim along with those vanishing traces.
“What would you know, you idiot.”
Chung Myung opened his eyes again and lifted his head. At the very least, the moon hanging in the sky was no different from that night. Back then too, a large full moon like that had…
Huh? There was something pitch-black obscuring the full moon…
“Waaaaaaah!”
“What are you doing here?”
“Ah, damn it! I nearly jumped out of my skin!”
“Just how much did you drink that you can’t even sense someone coming?”
Baek Cheon, standing there blocking the moon, clicked his tongue.
“What the hell, jumping out like that?!”
“What do you mean, ‘jumping out’? When some guy hasn’t come back even by dawn, of course we go looking for him.”
Baek Cheon muttered, ‘And if that guy is you, it’s all the more natural. Who knows what you’ll get up to.’ Chung Myung stared at him, dumbfounded.
“Hmm.”
“…What?”
Baek Cheon, who had been looking Chung Myung up and down, fixed his gaze on the bottle.
“Oh. Hand that over.”
“…Huh?”
Baek Cheon casually took the bottle from him and plopped down beside Chung Myung.
“Mm. Smells good.”
“…..Didn’t you say you came to drag back the disciple who wouldn’t return?”
“I’ve caught him.”
“…”
“It’s one thing if you’re outside the sect gates, but if you’re already inside them, there’s no need to drag you around, is there?”
Baek Cheon chuckled and began gulping down the liquor as naturally as if it had been his to begin with.
“Khh. That’s good.”
“No, but…….”
“Got any more? There’s no way you only brought one bottle. Hand over what you’ve got.”
“You’re worse than a ghost, seriously.”
“How many years do you think I’ve lived with you?”
With a somewhat weary look, Chung Myung shook his head and pulled out the bottles. After counting them, Baek Cheon scratched his cheek.
“Feels like it might not be enough.”
“Not enough? This is fire liquor.”
“For the two of us, it’d be more than enough. But it’s not just the two of us, is it?”
“Huh?”
As if to answer Chung Myung’s question, the sound of muttering drifted over.
“Ugh, he really was here.”
“See? I told you it’d be better to just wait up top. What is this, seriously! We ended up climbing the mountain for nothing on a night like this.”
“For the great heavens, shut that mouth of yours. How is it that the older you get, the more you chatter like a sparrow?”
“It’s not because I’m getting older, it’s because I’ve been put through so much. The more years I live, the more bitter experience piles up!”
Bickering as they walked, Yoon Jong and Jo Geol plopped down on either side of Baek Cheon and Chung Myung. They even went so far as to each snatch up one of the bottles in front of them, as if they’d been there watching everything from the start.
“Well, would you look at that?”
“Khh. That’s nicely cool.”
“I prefer it a bit lukewarm, though.”
“Then hand it over, please.”
“Hands off, before I cut them off.”
“Is that any way to talk to your junior who has suffered so much because of you, Sahyeong?”
“‘Suffered,’ huh… I don’t know about that.”
Smiling, Yoon Jong pointed ahead.
“Aren’t you better off than them over there?”
From the direction he pointed, Yu Iseol and Tang Soso were walking over.
“See? Sago! Training, my foot. Is that man the type to stay out all night just because he’s training?”
“…”
“And if he’s going to train, then just train. Why did we have to rummage through every high peak on the mountain?”
“…He used to.”
“‘Used to’? When exactly is that supposed to be?”
“About… five years ago?”
“Sago, please…”
Tang Soso covered her face with both hands. Yu Iseol, looking a bit embarrassed, briefly pretended to be distracted, then at last glared straight at Chung Myung.
“You need a beating.”
“…”
Smiling, Baek Cheon picked up the bottles in front of him and tossed one to each of them.
“Here, take this.”
Both of them caught the bottles with natural ease and sat down beside the mound.
“Aigooo, my legs. This kind of thing didn’t bother me at all before.”
“Why are you talking like some old man? You’re not Chung Myung.”
“You try being my age, Sahyeong!”
“….I’m sorry.”
Yoon Jong quietly shut his mouth. In terms of rank, of course he was above Tang Soso, but when it came to age, he had no right to say anything.
Staring blankly at the one remaining bottle, Baek Cheon muttered to himself.
“Still… there’s one left.”
“Amitabha.”
Before the words were even finished, a familiar Buddhist chant rang out.
“While I was meditating late into the night, I was drawn here by a fine fragrance.”
“There really is no difference between you and a ghost.”
“There is no way that guy is an actual monk. It’s simply not possible.”
Everyone looked at Hye Yeon, who had slipped in quietly, with expressions of sheer disbelief. A perfectly reasonable suspicion arose that the reason this damn monk had not returned to Shaolin was, in truth, because one could not drink there.
“Amitabha. To leave food is a sin, and a Buddhist is one who guards against sin, so I have no choice but to eat it all and make it disappear.”
“…Sasuk. Is that really the Buddha’s Way?”
“Don’t you dare say something like that anywhere else. You’ll get stoned.”
Regardless of the muttering around him, Hye Yeon quickly secured his share of the liquor and sat down. Then, as if something were missing, he turned to look at Chung Myung.
“Siju, is this all? You didn’t bring any more?”
“Give it a rest, you degenerate monk!”
“Did you leave your conscience back in Hubei?”
“I’m going to report all of this to Shaolin!”
“A-Amitabha.”
A barrage of scolding followed. Looking sulky, Hye Yeon popped open the bottle.
“Mmm. This is good liquor.”
“…Isn’t it a problem for a monk to even know that?”
“To be honest, everything you all say is correct. However…”
“However?”
“I just don’t want to hear it from the people of Hwasan. In a world where you lot pass for Taoist monks, why on earth shouldn’t I be a Buddhist?”
“What’s wrong with us?”
“We’re perfectly fine Taoists, you know!”
“…..Amitabha.”
Hye Yeon turned his gaze to a distant peak. It was his answer in the form of silence.
Watching all of this, Chung Myung let out a hollow laugh.
“No, but… was me coming back a bit late really worth all of you coming out to look for me?”
“…It is a matter of utmost gravity.”
“It’s on par with hearing that Sapaeryeon has started to stir.”
“The sheer psychological terror was even greater, honestly.”
Left speechless, Chung Myung’s mouth hung open. But before he could even retort, Baek Cheon thrust the bottle he was holding towards him.
“Anyway, leaving that aside, just watching good liquor sit there is a sin. Everyone, drink! Have a drink first, and if you still have something to say, you can say it after.”
The others sitting in a circle all held their bottles out as well.
“What are you doing?”
Everyone turned to look at Chung Myung, who was staring at the scene blankly. He glanced around at them in a daze, then, still somewhat bewildered, stretched his bottle out towards the center.
Seven bottles met in midair.
Above them, the light of the full moon, unusually bright tonight of all nights, poured down warmly.
________
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