Return of the Mount Hua Sect [EN]: Chapter 1017

The wind from the river blew hard, making Beopjeong’s robe flap around him. He stared at the boats on the Yangtze River. To anyone else, they might look calm and peaceful, just floating on the water. But Beopjeong saw them differently. To him, they were like the sharp teeth of wolves, ready to bite and attack at any moment.

“Hmm,” Beopjeong sighed, his eyes showing deep worry.

It had been almost ten days since the trouble at Mae Hwa Island ended. But the Sapaeryeon pirates still had not moved their ships from the river, not even a little bit. Usually, river pirates steal from boats to make money. Keeping their ships still like this meant they were losing money. But the Sapaeryeon stayed put.

Because of this, Beopjeong could not relax. He knew he had to stay watchful as long as the enemy was ready to fight.

“…Jang Il-so,” Beopjeong said, the name sounding like poison on his tongue. He knew Jang Il-so was over there, in the Maninbang camp, easy to see across the river.

*Thump. Thump.* Beopgye walked slowly towards him from behind.

“Venerable Abbot,” Beopgye said carefully, “the answers from the Nine Sects are here.”

Beopjeong didn’t react at first, still looking at the river.

“Venerable Abbot,” Beopgye said again. And then again.

Finally, Beopjeong turned his head a little. “What do they say?” he asked.

“Well… most of them said they want to help at the Yangtze River,” Beopgye reported.

A strange smile appeared on Beopjeong’s face, a smile that wasn’t happy. “But they didn’t say *when* they would help, or *how much* help they would give, right?”

“…Yes, Venerable Abbot,” Beopgye said. He felt anger growing inside him.

Promises without dates or amounts were just empty words. They could change their minds whenever they wanted. Even now, when things were so serious, they were still being careful and unsure.

“Yes,” Beopjeong said. He nodded slowly, as if he already knew this would happen. “I expected it.”

“What about the Cheonwu Alliance?” Beopjeong asked.

“Most of them said they are very suspicious of what the Cheonwu Alliance is doing,” Beopgye answered.

“Very suspicious, huh?” Beopjeong chuckled softly.

Suspicion. That was a useful word.

If the Cheonwu Alliance *had* secretly worked with the evil Demonic Faction, the others could say, “We were suspicious all along!” And if it turned out they *hadn’t*, they could say, “Luckily, our suspicions were wrong.”

They were being careful and not committing to anything. Yes, that was their way in everything.

“Venerable Abbot,” Beopgye said again.

“Just as I thought,” Beopjeong replied, shaking his head a little. Beopgye sighed loudly.

“How can you be so calm?” Beopgye asked, his voice full of frustration.

“Hmm?” Beopjeong looked at him.

“I know we made mistakes,” Beopgye said quickly. “Maybe we could have done some things better.”

“…” Beopjeong waited for him to continue.

“But we are here, at the Yangtze River, facing the Sapaeryeon pirates! Aren’t we? What else can we think but that they just don’t care about us?”

Beopjeong looked at Beopgye and smiled kindly. “Are you angry?” he asked gently.

“…Yes, I am,” Beopgye admitted.

“Don’t be,” Beopjeong said. “People are like that. If you get a tiny thorn in your finger, it hurts a lot. But if someone dies far away, you don’t even feel sad.”

Beopgye bit his lip, feeling upset.

Maybe they hadn’t done everything right. But they had come here to help, with good intentions. And this was how they were being treated. It felt unfair.

“So, are you saying we should just put up with this?” Beopgye asked.

Beopjeong kept smiling and asked, “What do you think we *should* do?”

“…” Beopgye stared at Beopjeong, unable to speak for a moment.

During the Mae Hwa Island trouble, Beopjeong had seemed to lose control. But now, just a few days later, he was calm again, like he used to be.

“This is a problem,” Beopjeong said quietly, looking across the river. “A real problem. What do we do with people who won’t listen?”

“First, send another letter,” Beopjeong said, giving instructions. ” Keep telling them what’s happening here. And ask them clearly what kind of help they can give.”

It was a clear plan. But Beopgye just sighed.

“…Venerable Abbot,” Beopgye said, “Do you really think they will help, even if we ask like that?”

“They won’t help,” Beopjeong said. “But that’s not important.”

“Huh?” Beopgye was surprised.

Beopjeong started to say things Beopgye didn’t expect. “People watching a fire on the other side of the river aren’t worried,” Beopjeong explained. “They might even be enjoying watching things burn.”

“…” Beopgye listened carefully.

“Right now, they see us as just people struggling to put out a fire far away,” Beopjeong continued. “They don’t need to rush to help.”

Beopjeong stopped for a moment, then looked directly at Beopgye. “Do you know how to make those people start to worry?”

“…No, Venerable Abbot,” Beopgye admitted.

“It’s to make them understand that the fire could jump across the river,” Beopjeong said, his voice getting lower.

Beopjeong spoke softly, like a prayer.

“A fire far away is fun to watch because it can’t hurt you,” Beopjeong said. “But a fire burning your own feet? That’s not fun anymore. Because that fire can burn your house, your fields, your family, and even you.”

Beopgye nodded slowly, understanding.

He knew that part of the reason the Nine Sects weren’t helping was because Shaolin wasn’t as strong as it used to be. But the main reason was that they didn’t see the Sapaeryeon as a real danger.

*Those three years changed everything for the worse,* Beopgye thought.

If Jang Il-so had killed all the pirates at the Yangtze River Disaster, maybe the Sapaeryeon wouldn’t even exist now. The other good groups would have tried to destroy the Sapaeryeon completely.

But Jang Il-so stayed in Gangnam for three years, secretly getting stronger. It was long enough for people to get used to the Sapaeryeon being there, across the river.

So, they had gotten used to it. Used to the fire burning on the other side of the river.

When something is normal, it doesn’t feel scary anymore. So no matter how loudly they warned them, no one would listen.

“Shouldn’t we tell them how dangerous the Sapaeryeon fire is, Venerable Abbot?” Beopgye asked.

“Yes,” Beopjeong said. “I used to think so.”

“…Yes?” Beopgye tilted his head, confused by Beopjeong’s calm answer. It sounded a little strange.

“Until recently, that is,” Beopjeong added.

Beopgye knew he had heard correctly.

Beopjeong went on. His voice was different now, a little harder.

“But lately,” Beopjeong said, “I’ve been wondering if I was wrong about something.”

“…What do you mean?” Beopgye asked, confused.

“Maybe,” Beopjeong said, “the problem isn’t that they don’t know how *strong* the fire is.”

Beopgye still didn’t understand. Who could forget how dangerous the Sapaeryeon was?

“Maybe,” Beopjeong continued, “they’ve forgotten what fire *is* at all.”

“Venerable Abbot?” Beopgye asked, even more confused.

A strange, almost cruel smile touched the corners of Beopjeong’s mouth.

“Yes,” Beopjeong said. “It’s like they’ve been living in a world without fire for so long. Long enough to forget what disaster even means. No, maybe it’s like they know there are still little sparks, but they’ve forgotten what a *big* fire is like.”

“…” Beopgye was silent, trying to understand.

“That’s why they’ve forgotten,” Beopjeong said. “What fire is. Why they should be scared.”

Beopgye’s eyes showed his doubt as he looked at Beopjeong. Then Beopjeong turned to face Beopgye. His eyes looked strangely dark and cold.

“Beopgye,” Beopjeong said.

Beopgye jumped a little and bowed his head quickly.

“Yes, Venerable Abbot,” he replied.

Beopjeong’s voice was soft again, slow and gentle, like he was talking to a small child.

“…Do you know how to show someone who doesn’t know fire, what fire really is?”

“Well…” Beopgye started to say, unsure.

“It’s to make them *feel* it,” Beopjeong said, cutting him off.

Right then, Beopgye felt a cold shiver go down his back. Beopjeong continued, still calm.

“We have to make them feel for themselves how hot fire is,” Beopjeong explained. “How much it hurts when you touch it. What happens when your skin starts to burn.”

“Ve- Venerable Abbot,” Beopgye stammered.

“Exactly!” Beopjeong said, stopping him quickly.

“It will hurt,” Beopjeong said. “It will be very painful. But… isn’t it better to stop them from walking right into the fire themselves, just because they don’t know what fire is?”

“…” Beopgye couldn’t say anything. He just closed his mouth, as if he had no words left.

Beopjeong’s smile was still faint, and his voice was still kind and gentle. But Beopgye felt something strange and cold coming from Beopjeong, something so cold it felt like it was freezing his soul.

Beopjeong looked at Beopgye and smiled kindly again. “Do I sound too cruel?” he asked.

“Ve- Venerable Abbot,” Beopgye said, “I just…”

“Maybe it sounds cruel,” Beopjeong said. “But Buddhists must not be afraid to lose things, even important things.”

Beopjeong raised one hand in front of Beopgye, in a special Shaolin gesture. It was called the half-palm – instead of putting both hands together, he only raised one.

“Why does Shaolin use the half-palm?” Beopjeong asked suddenly.

Beopgye knew the answer right away. Everyone in Shaolin knew it. “…It’s to remember the Second Patriarch,” Beopgye answered.

“That’s right,” Beopjeong said, nodding slowly.

Beopjeong explained, “Shaolin started with the Fourth Patriarch, Bodhidharma. But the Second Patriarch is very important for our spirit, and the Sixth Patriarch for our fighting skills. Shaolin today is built on all of them.”

“The Second Patriarch cut off his own arm to become enlightened,” Beopjeong continued.

“Yes, Venerable Abbot,” Beopgye confirmed.

“So,” Beopjeong said, “it means that to reach true understanding, you must be ready to give up even something as important as an arm, without hesitating.”

“…” Beopgye was silent.

“This isn’t just for Buddhists,” Beopjeong said. “Sometimes, you have to lose a little to gain a lot.”

Beopgye still couldn’t speak.

He felt a heavy pressure coming from Beopjeong, even though Beopjeong seemed calm. It was hard to even breathe.

Beopjeong, still with his hand raised in the half-palm gesture, closed his eyes for a moment, as if he was thinking hard. Then he opened his eyes again and said, “Let’s just make them understand. That will be enough.”

“…Yes, Venerable Abbot,” Beopgye replied quietly.

“Send the answer,” Beopjeong instructed.

“Yes,” Beopgye said again.

Beopgye bowed deeply with the half-palm gesture and stepped back. He suddenly felt like he needed to leave this place, right now.

Just as Beopgye was turning to leave quickly, Beopjeong, still looking at the Yangtze River, asked quietly, “What is Hwasan doing?”

Beopgye stopped and answered carefully, “They seem to be staying nearby, with the Tang Family. Nothing much is happening.”

“What about the Hwasan Sword Saint?” Beopjeong asked.

“…That young man seems to be teaching the young fighters of the Namgoong family lately,” Beopgye replied.

“Teaching Namgoong?” Beopjeong repeated, his eyes looking up slightly.

“…That young man will take in even Namgoong one day,” Beopjeong murmured.

“…” Beopgye didn’t say anything.

“Go now,” Beopjeong said finally.

Beopjeong didn’t move again. He just stared at the Yangtze River, flowing on and on, without caring about anything.

Beopgye looked at Beopjeong’s back for a moment, bowed deeply with the half-palm gesture, and left.

Beopjeong was alone now, the bright Yangtze River reflecting in his eyes.

“…People say the world is unfair,” he whispered.

A sad, empty smile touched his lips.

“Amitabha…” he murmured again.

Then he closed his eyes, and there was nothing to see in them anymore.