“Yes. The Mount Hua Divine Dragon has left the sect grounds.”
“Yes.”
A slightly awkward atmosphere flowed between Beop Jeong and Beop Gye.
Although he had managed to explain and smooth things over somehow, a subtle discomfort that was hard to put into words did not disappear.
“Traveling at a time like this?”
But Beop Jeong deliberately ignored that feeling and continued speaking.
In truth, this conversation was almost laughable in a way. What was so momentous about second-generation disciples and third-generation disciples of a single sect moving beyond their sect that Beop Jeong, the Abbott of Shaolin, had to speak of it?
But neither Beop Jeong, who was speaking, nor Beop Gye, who brought the news, thought of it that way at all.
If an ordinary commoner went out for a walk beyond the village, it would simply be called a walk, but if the emperor walked outside the palace, it could be an event that shakes the entire nation.
In other words, the same action will inevitably be judged differently depending on who performs it.
Reluctant as he was to admit it, the weight carried by the names Mount Hua and the Mount Hua Divine Dragon in the current murim world could no longer be ignored. It was to the point that Beop Jeong himself had to mention the name.
“Their destination? Is it impossible to determine precisely?”
“Well… you know. It’s Mount Hua.”
“I see. That figures.”
A sigh escaped Beop Jeong’s mouth.
Mount Hua was difficult to track. This wasn’t simply because Mount Hua acted quickly or because its internal discipline was strict.
The world is vast. Even a seasoned warrior finds long journeys difficult. No matter how much one roams the realm like one’s home, once you leave your familiar grounds you will inevitably encounter places you’ve never seen before. Isn’t the Central Plains that vast?
Therefore, the easiest way to travel far is generally to rely on acquaintances. It’s an act with no reason not to choose: safe lodgings, warm meals, and access to information.
Those who left their sects to travel far usually stopped at guest halls of other sects they had regular contact with, or at least the houses of branch families to get a place to sleep. Not every inn exists everywhere they go.
But what about Mount Hua?
“Why on earth do Mount Hua’s disciples so gladly sleep with their backs on the dirt?”
“…They live in such rough terrain that any flat ground must feel wonderfully comfortable, it seems.”
“Does that even make sense?”
“That’s the only way to explain it…”
This damned sect… no, a sect that truly died and was reborn had few other sects to interact with because of its collapse. Branch families? What are those? If branch families were widespread in the land, they wouldn’t have been ruined in the first place.
So once these fellows started moving, even Shaolin’s information network couldn’t conjecture their routes and motives.
What kind of place is the murim world? Those with reputations are in a world where they would consider it natural to recite their name, sect, and purpose right in the middle of a bustling market in broad daylight.
To those familiar with the murim world, Mount Hua was an enigma.
What kind of sect roasts the game they hunt morning and evening, drinks water scooped from streams, and moves from this mountain to that mountain? Unless they’ve buried gold in the hills.
“Are you sure they’re coming this way?”
“Yes. According to informants in Hwa-Um village, that seems certain.”
“Hmm.”
Beop Jeong emitted a hum.
“Has there been any recent reason for them to take interest in Henan?”
“None. If there had been, I would of course have reported it.”
That’s the problem. No matter how he thought about it, there was no reason for Mount Hua to come to Henan now.
Until now, when the Mount Hua Divine Dragon went on excursions, the purpose had always been fixed.
“Alliances.”
Mount Hua might deny it, but it’s undeniable that alliances were formed wherever they went.
So it’s highly likely that this excursion too aims to increase their alliances.
If only their destination weren’t Henan.
“Nonsense.”
Henan is a region controlled by Shaolin. To add unnecessary names, even Wudang of Hubei and the Namgung Family of Anhui exert power there.
Those who hold Henan effectively hold the murim world. The sects of Henan and Hubei are all perfectly united around these three sects. Why would such people join hands with a sect from Shaanxi?
The sects that have allied with Mount Hua so far have all been dominions on the fringes of the Central Plains. The Sichuan Tang Family? Its name may be grand, but it’s only a regional power of Sichuan far from Henan.
In other words, no matter how much Mount Hua flaunts its might lately, it cannot threaten the centuries-old order of Henan and Hubei—unless the world itself is overturned.
“Then it’s not to sway another sect.”
Then for heaven’s sake, what is the reason?
Beop Jeong knew. If, after erasing everything that was wrong, something remained, that was the truth—even if that truth was hard to believe.
“Amitabha.”
Beop Jeong nodded as if in realization.
“I understand.”
“Abbott, do you have any idea what it might be?”
“Hmm.”
“Or shall we trail them now? This time they’re not heading to the outskirts of the Central Plains, so with the Beggars’ Union’s cooperation we might be able to trace their movements somehow…”
“No need. Rather, prepare to receive guests.”
“Yes? What do you mean by that, Abbott?”
Beop Jeong gave a faint smile.
“Thinking about it as difficult makes it difficult. Didn’t you say they are heading here?”
“Yes. They certainly are, but…”
“Then they’re coming to meet me, I suppose.”
“…Yes?”
Beop Gye couldn’t hide his momentary astonishment and looked straight at Beop Jeong. But he quickly realized his impropriety and averted his gaze.
Why would they come to meet Beop Jeong? They were not on good terms such that a meeting would benefit either side.
“Mount Hua probably doesn’t feel very kindly toward their headquarters right now. Yet they would deliberately…”
“Foolish thinking. That’s you underestimating Mount Hua.”
“Underestimate… you mean?”
“It would be an impossible remark if you acknowledged them. Is leading a sect and building power a thing done by feelings alone?”
“Certainly it’s not.”
Only then did Beop Gye understand what Beop Jeong was trying to say.
Right. That’s definitely not something that can be done by feelings alone.
“If they too have realized that fact, then even now it’s not strange for them to seek to improve relations with their headquarters. They would be the last ones wanting further rupture with their base.”
“…That’s certainly true.”
Beop Gye nodded slightly.
This was conventional wisdom. There are no sects in the world that are on bad terms with Shaolin; those sects would have been destroyed.
In the current world’s order, being hostile to Shaolin is unthinkable. That’s common sense, that’s reality.
In that sense, nothing Beop Jeong said was wrong. One could even say he correctly grasped what Beop Gye had missed.
“Surely that’s right, but…”
Yet he felt an indescribable unease. Beop Gye tried to imagine the face of one person in his mind.
“Hmm…”
Why? Why couldn’t he picture that person bowing? He could picture the person seeming to bow and then butting with his head…
“So be it; make sure there’s no lack in welcoming guests. Aren’t they distinguished guests?”
“….”
“Are you listening?”
“…Understood, Abbott.”
But Beop Gye couldn’t say anything.
To try to say something else would be difficult; Beop Jeong looked far too pleased.
“Then I’ll go out.”
“Do so.”
Beop Gye left the room with an expression unable to shake the unease.
“Heh heh. It would come to this after all. Not so foolish, then.”
Beop Jeong’s voice, unable to hide his delight, could be faintly heard from behind him.
“Uneasy.”
For some reason, the image of that grotesque Buddha statue with a carving knife stuck in its face kept coming to mind. Like an ominous future.
“Ah, right. Chung Myung.”
“Hm? What is it?”
“I was thinking—haven’t we already passed Mount Song?”
“So?”
“Sect leader asked me to pass his regards to the Abbott, remember? Don’t you recall?”
“Did he?”
“Yes, he did.”
“Then why are you telling me now?”
“I forgot too.”
“…”
“…”
“Let’s just go.”
“Okay.”
Thus Beop Jeong’s expectation was dismissed in three beats of breath.