Return of the Mount Hua

This isn’t how this is supposed to go. (3)

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“Right. Hwasan Shinryong has come out beyond the sect gates.”

“Yes.”

A somewhat awkward atmosphere flowed between Beop Jong and Beop Gye.

They had managed to smooth things over with a proper explanation, but a subtle discomfort – something difficult to put into words – refused to fade.

“Leaving at a time like this.”

But Beop Jong deliberately ignored that feeling and continued speaking.

In truth, this conversation, viewed one way, was ridiculous beyond measure. What was so important about the second and third generation disciples of some sect leaving their mountain and moving about that Beop Jong, the Abbot of Shaolin, had to speak of it himself?

Yet neither Beop Jong, who spoke the words, nor Beop Gye, who had brought the news, entertained such thoughts in the slightest.

If an ordinary commoner went out for a stroll beyond the village, then that was, quite literally, something to be called a stroll. But if the emperor went out for a stroll beyond the palace, then that could become an event that shook the entire nation.

In other words, even the same act could be judged differently depending on who did it.

He did not want to admit it, but in the present Gangho, the weight carried by the names Hwasan and Hwasan Shinryong had reached a level that could no longer be ignored. Enough that Beop Jong himself had to mention that name.

“Their destination? Is it impossible to determine precisely?”

“That is…. You know, don’t you? How Hwasan is.”

“Yes. That’s true.”

A sigh escaped Beop Jong’s mouth.

Hwasan was difficult to grasp. This was not simply because Hwasan acted quickly, or because their internal discipline was strict.

The world was vast. Even for a trained martial artist, traveling a long road was no easy thing. No matter how freely one roamed the world as though it were one’s own home, the moment one strayed even a little from one’s own territory, they were bound to encounter places they had never seen before. Was that not just how vast the Central Plains were?

That was why, generally, the easiest way to travel a long distance was to rely on people with whom one was acquainted. In terms of being able to obtain a safe place to sleep, a warm meal, and information, there was no reason not to choose such a method.

Usually, those who left their own sect and traveled far would stop by the guest hall of another sect with which they had regular exchanges, or at the very least visit an affiliated branch to be provided with a place to sleep.

After all, inns were not found everywhere one went.

But what about Hwasan?

“Why on earth do the disciples of Hwasan seem to take such joy in sleeping with their backs on bare dirt?”

“…Perhaps because the place where they live is so rugged that any flat ground will do.”

“Does that make any sense?”

“But that is the only way I can explain it…”

This damned sect… No, this sect that had truly been ruined and then revived had so few other sects it associated with, precisely because it had once fallen. Affiliated branch sects? What were those? If they had had branch sects spread across the world, they would never have fallen in the first place.

Because of that, once these people started moving, even Shaolin’s information network could not for the life of it guess their route or their reason.

What kind of place was Gangho? Gangho was a place where, if they were people of reputation, it was only natural for them to stand in the middle of a bustling market street in broad daylight and recite their name, sect, and purpose for coming.

To those accustomed to Gangho, Hwasan was an utterly incomprehensible existence.

What kind of sect roasted and ate meat they hunted morning and evening, drew stream water to drink, and moved from one mountain to another? Unless they had buried gold in the mountains or something.

“Is it certain they are coming this way?”

“Yes. According to the informants in Hwaeum, that much seems certain.”

“Hmmm.”

Beop Jong let out a low groan.

“Has there been anything recently that would make them take an interest in Henan?”

“No. If there had been, naturally I would have told you.”

That was the problem. No matter how he thought about it, there was no reason for Hwasan to come to Henan now.

Until now, whenever Hwasan Shinryong went traveling, his objective had always been set.

‘An alliance.’

Hwasan would deny it, but it was an undeniable fact that wherever they had gone until now, their allies had appeared.

So it could be said that there was a fairly high probability that this journey of theirs, too, was intended to increase their alliances.

That is, if their destination had not been somewhere in Henan.

‘Utter nonsense.’

Henan was the region ruled by Shaolin. If one were to force a few more empty names into it, it was also a place where Wudang of Hubei and Namgung Clan of Anhui exerted their influence.

Those who held Henan were no different from those who held Gangho itself. The smaller sects of Henan and Hubei were all perfectly united around these three sects. Why would such people join hands with a sect from Shaanxi?

The sects that had joined hands with Hwasan until now had, without exception, been nothing more than powers ruling the outskirts of the Central Plains. The Sichuan Tang Clan? Their name might be lofty, but in the end they were only the rulers of Sichuan, far removed from Henan.

In other words, no matter how much Hwasan had been displaying its influence lately, it meant they could not possibly threaten the order of Henan and Hubei that had continued for hundreds of years. Not unless heaven and earth were overturned.

‘Then they are not trying to win over another sect.’

Then what on earth could it be for?

Beop Jong knew. If there was something left after erasing everything that was wrong, then that was the truth. No matter how difficult that truth was to believe.

“Amitabha.”

Beop Jong nodded as if he had realized something.

“I see.”

“Abbot, have you thought of something?”

“Hmm.”

“Or shall we attach pursuers to them even now? This time they are not heading to the outskirts of the Central Plains, so if we obtain the Beggars Sect’s cooperation, I believe we may be able to determine their movements somehow…”

“There is no need. Rather, prepare to receive guests.”

“Yes? What do you mean by that, Abbot?”

Beop Jong smiled faintly.

“It becomes difficult only because you think it so. Did you not say they are heading this way?”

“Yes. That is certainly so, but…”

“Then they must be coming to see me.”

“…..Pardon?”

Beop Gye could not hide his bewilderment for a moment and looked straight at Beop Jong. But he soon realized his own disgraceful behavior and quietly lowered his gaze.

Why would they come to meet Beop Jong? They were in a relationship where meeting would bring neither side any good.

“Hwasan likely does not feel very favorable towards our main temple right now. And yet they would go out of their way to…”

“That is a foolish thought. That means you have taken Hwasan too lightly.”

“Too lightly… you say?”

“If you acknowledged them, on the contrary, you would not have been able to say such a thing. Is leading a sect and building a force something that can be done by emotion alone?”

“It certainly is not.”

Only then did Beop Gye understand what Beop Jong was trying to say.

Yes. That was certainly not something that could be done by emotion alone.

“If they, too, have now realized that fact, then even if they wished to improve their relationship with our main temple at this point, there would be nothing particularly strange about it, would there? For falling further out with our main temple would be what they least desire.”

“…That is certainly true.”

Beop Gye nodded.

This was the orthodox approach. There was no such thing in the world as a sect with poor relations with Shaolin. Because any such sect had all been smashed to pieces.

In the present world, being hostile to Shaolin was unthinkable. Was that not common sense, and was that not reality?

In that sense, there was nothing wrong in what Beop Jong was saying. Rather, it could be said that he had properly grasped the part Beop Gye had missed.

‘That is certainly right, but….’

And yet he felt an unease difficult to describe. Beop Gye tried hard to call one person’s image to mind.

“Hmm…….”

Why was it? Why was it that he could not for the life of him picture that man lowering his head? He could picture him seeming to bow, only to ram forward headfirst instead…

“Since that is how things stand, see to it that nothing is lacking in receiving our guests. Are they not honored guests?”

“…”

“Are you listening?”

“…I understand, Abbot.”

But Beop Gye could say nothing.

For him to try saying anything else, Beop Jong’s mood now seemed far too good.

“Then I will take my leave.”

“Do so.”

Beop Gye left the room, still unable to shake the uneasy expression on his face.

“Heheh. This was how it would end after all. They were not so foolish, then.”

Behind him, Beop Jong’s voice, unable to hide his delight, was heard faintly.

‘This is unsettling.’

For some reason, the image of that dreadful Buddha statue with a carving knife embedded in its face kept coming to mind. As if it were an ominous future.

❀ ❀ ❀

“Ah, right. Chung Myung.”

“Hm? What?”

“Now that I think about it, I think we already passed Mount Song?”

“So?”

“The Sect Leader told you to give the Abbot his regards, didn’t he? Don’t you remember?”

“He did?”

“I’m telling you, he did.”

“Then why are you only saying that now?”

“I forgot too.”

“…”

“…”

“Let’s just go.”

“Yeah.”

And so, Beop Jong’s expectations were ignored in the span of three breaths.

________

I have missed Beop Jong being humbled.

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