Return of the Mount Hua Sect [EN]: Chapter 190

Jo Pyung stared, eyes wide. His son, Jo Gul, had actually *won*? He couldn’t believe it. Tang Zhan, defeated by *his* son?

Who was Tang Zhan, after all?

Tang Zhan was from the famous Tang Family of Sichuan. Everyone knew their name and their deadly skills. He was a direct family member, and people all over knew he was strong.

Yet, this man had been defeated by Jo Pyung’s son.

How could this be?

He had sent his son to Mount Hua, but not because he thought his son was a sword genius.

No, wait! Jo Gul *must* have had some talent. Why else would he have sent him to Mount Hua instead of making him a merchant?

But was that talent enough to defeat a direct descendant of the Tang Family with a sword?

No.

Jo Pyung was sure of it. He couldn’t help it if people thought he didn’t believe in his son. As a merchant, Jo Pyung’s job was to know the value of things.

Jo Pyung loved his son, but he was also a merchant. He was good at judging people. And he knew Jo Gul wasn’t a genius swordsman.

Yet, that son had defeated none other than Tang Zhan.

That Tang Zhan.

He knew he had to say something, but the words wouldn’t come.

A strange feeling mixed with pride began to grow in Jo Pyung’s chest. Maybe he had underestimated his own son’s worth?

At that moment, Jo Gul took the sword from Tang Zhan’s shoulder and turned around.

Then, with a smile that even Jo Pyung found charming, he walked toward them.

“Sasuk. I won.”

“Yes, Jo Gul!”

He staggered.

He staggered.

“I… I won… Ah, what… Huh? Why am I bleeding so much…? Sasuk, I feel dizzy…”

“Don’t… don’t talk, Jo Gul!” Baek Cheon stammered, his voice tight with worry.

“Sasuk! Jo Gul’s neck! There’s so much blood! Is he going to die?” Yoon Jong cried, panicked. A dark red stain was spreading quickly down Jo Gul’s robes, and blood was still gushing from the wound.

Baek Cheon was also frantic. “A doctor! We need a doctor, now!”

Yoo Iseol quickly stepped forward, grabbed Jo Gul’s neck, and pressed down to stop the bleeding.

“Ah, Sago. I’m okay…”

“Don’t talk. You’ll lose energy.”

“Ah, yes.”

Jo Gul’s face turned pale. Even though he had won, he had lost too much blood from his neck. It seemed the last Willow Leaf Flying Dagger had cut a blood vessel.

Cheong Myeong clicked his tongue, a flicker of seriousness in his eyes. He moved quickly, his fingers finding two points on Jo Gul’s neck and pressing down firmly. Almost instantly, the heavy flow of blood slowed to a trickle.

“Wow. If it had gone in just a little more, you would have died, you know?”

“Hey! Don’t say things like that!”

“Hey! Don’t say things like that!” Cheong Myeong grumbled, annoyed.

“I was just saying what happened.”

“Keueung.”

Baek Cheon and Yoon Jong were shouting, but Jo Gul just smiled blankly.

“Are you happy?”

“Of course.”

“Are you *that* happy?”

“I told you, I am!”

“Are you that happy?” Cheong Myeong asked again, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “So happy you’d give away all your money?” Jo Gul grinned. “Of course!” “Then,” Cheong Myeong leaned closer, “lend me… a mountain of gold!”

Jo Gul blinked, then laughed weakly. “Hey! Wait a minute!”

Cheong Myeong clicked his tongue.

He wanted to tease him more, but seeing Jo Gul smiling as if he had gained the world, he didn’t want to.

Even when he had defeated the Wudang disciples, or gotten the Hunwon Pill, he hadn’t been this happy.

‘For Jo Gul, the Tang Family must have seemed like a huge wall.’

Now that he had broken through that wall, Jo Gul would grow even stronger.

From the start, if you only looked at sword skill, Jo Gul was the best in Mount Hua. If Cheong Myeong wasn’t there, the title of Mount Hua’s Best Swordsman would have gone from Baek Cheon to Jo Gul.

‘I hope he can really shine now.’

It wasn’t just his sword that needed to shine. The people of Mount Hua also had to shine.

Cheong Myeong’s playful mood faded as he turned his head. His eyes landed on the Tang Family members, especially Tang Zhan, who looked completely lost.

“Aren’t you leaving?”

“Or do you need to see more to believe it?”

Tang Zhan bit his lip.

He had a lot to say. But nothing would matter now.

He had been defeated by Jo Gul, not the Divine Dragon of Mount Hua, not the Plum Blossom Sword Saint. By Jo Gul, who wasn’t even famous yet.

He had no excuses.

Tang Zhan clenched his fist. Shame burned in Tang Zhan’s chest. Defeat was a bitter taste he had never known. His hands clenched into fists, nails digging into his palms. *How* could this have happened?

His vision blurred as he thought about how his position in the family would drop because of this.

Then…

“Here.”

Tang Zhan looked up.

He saw Cheong Myeong holding out a bottle of alcohol.

“When you’re upset, a drink is the best thing. Drink it all.”

Tang Zhan blinked, confusion clouding his face. ‘Making fun of me?’

He thought Cheong Myeong was strange, but this was too much.

“Did you think you would never lose?”

Tang Zhan glared at him.

Cheong Myeong’s words hit him hard. But Tang Zhan didn’t want to admit it.

“Nonsense?” Tang Zhan snapped back, his pride stung. “I’m not arrogant! I know there are stronger people, even in my own family!”

“Yes. But they are your brothers.”

“What?”

Cheong Myeong chuckled.

“You probably haven’t lost to a younger brother. And you probably haven’t lost to anyone your age.”

Tang Zhan didn’t say anything.

Cheong Myeong grinned as he watched him.

‘Why would he think differently?’

All the rising stars think the same thing. If they keep growing, they can become the strongest in the world.

Cheong Myeong? Of course, he had thought that way too.

‘I didn’t really lose, but…’

But most rising stars can’t do it. They will lose and accept their limits. However…

“Do you think someone who hasn’t lost can become strong?”

Tang Zhan looked at Cheong Myeong.

And then he flinched.

It wasn’t the playful look he was used to. Cheong Myeong’s gaze was calm and steady, and it made even Tang Zhan hold his breath.

“Think about it. When you get hurt, and you heal, you become tougher, right? If you never get hurt, you never learn to be strong in a real fight.”

Cheong Myeong shrugged.

“It’s up to you. You can use this loss to become stronger, or you can stay down because your pride is hurt.”

Cheong Myeong held out the bottle again.

“Your choice?”

Tang Zhan, who had been staring at Cheong Myeong, grabbed the bottle.

And he started drinking.

“Keu.”

He frowned at the strong taste and gave the bottle back to Cheong Myeong.

“It burns.”

Chung Myung grinned, accepting the earthenware bottle of liquor that Dang Zhan offered. The cool bottle felt good in his hand.

*Glug, glug, glug, glug.*

He drank deeply, the strong alcohol burning pleasantly in his throat.

“Keeeuh!”

Chung Myung sighed, a look of pure contentment spreading across his face. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“There’s no need to be so disappointed. It might be shameful now, but…”

Chung Myung glanced slyly at Jo Gul.

“Soon, the world will know that being defeated by that man is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“…”

Dang Zhan bit his lip, a small line forming between his eyebrows as he thought.

“That is what must happen.”

“Of course.”

As Chung Myung was about to turn away, Dang Zhan called out to him again.

“Excuse me, but… I was wondering something?”

“Yes?”

Chung Myung turned back with a puzzled look. Dang Zhan frowned slightly.

“How strong are you?”

“Haha.”

Chung Myung chuckled.

“Beating me would be very difficult for you right now.”

“…Well…”

“But you never know.”

“Hmm?”

A playful glint returned to Chung Myung’s eyes.

“If that flying dagger becomes twelve instead of eleven, even I might have to be careful.”

“…”

Dang Zhan stared at Chung Myung with a shocked expression.

“How did you… how do you know that?”

“Let’s worry about that later. Anyway, keep working hard. Then, even if you can’t beat me, you might become the best of the Sichuan Dang family.”

Chung Myung waved his hand lightly and turned away completely, saying,

“The guests are leaving!”

And then he turned sharply and strode quickly into the main building, disappearing from sight.

Baek Cheon, who had been watching the scene, cleared his throat and approached Dang Zhan.

“Please excuse Chung Myung’s behavior. He can be a bit…unpredictable.”

“…No.”

Dang Zhan shook his head.

Strangely, he felt at ease. It was unexpected. Chung Myung’s words, though a little arrogant, had a strange calming effect.

‘This is odd.’

There was no reason why a few short words should have made him feel so comfortable.

Dang Zhan clasped his hands in front of him towards Baek Cheon.

“I apologize for my rudeness.”

“Not at all.”

Baek Cheon returned the gesture.

Even so, Baek Cheon couldn’t help but look at Dang Zhan with more interest.

‘This is strange.’

This was unusual. Chung Myung rarely showed interest in people from other sects, especially those not from Mount Hua.

At that moment, Baek Cheon’s gaze suddenly fixed on something: Dang Zhan’s hands as he removed his leather gloves.

He hadn’t noticed from afar, but up close, his hands were covered in countless small wounds.

‘So, he’s one who strives?’

It was impossible to know. Who could ever guess what was going on in that rascal’s head?

“We shall take our leave now.”

“Is this the end of it?”

“Well… I don’t know. As I said, this is a matter for the family. I will simply return and report that I was defeated by Jo Gul. What happens after that will be decided by the family.”

Baek Cheon nodded.

“Travel safely.”

“Then.”

Dang Zhan picked up the Willow Leaf Flying Daggers that had fallen to the ground and turned away.

“Let’s go!”

“Yes, Brother!”

Dangmyeong struggled to lift the heavier Dang Ho onto his back and followed Dang Zhan.

The Mount Hua disciples who watched them go sighed.

“That was like a storm.”

“Do you think the Sichuan Dang family will let this go, Senior Brother?”

“I don’t know.”

Baek Cheon scratched his chin.

‘The Sichuan Dang family, known for their daggers, is said to never forget even the smallest grudge.’

Dang Zhan didn’t seem the type to hold grudges, but his intentions couldn’t represent the entire Sichuan Dang family. Regardless of his wishes, the Dang family would surely try to settle this matter.

Baek Cheon sighed deeply.

“That rascal has caused trouble again.”

“…”

“…”

Jo Gul and Yoon Jong stared at Baek Cheon with dumbfounded expressions.

“The trouble was caused by Martial Uncle…”

“Let’s go inside. We need to treat your injuries.”

“No, Martial Uncle started it…”

“Ahem. You shouldn’t speak. Your injuries are severe.”

“…”

“Ahem!”

Baek Cheon cleared his throat loudly and strode back inside.

Yoo Iseol and the third-generation disciples who remained looked at each other.

“Senior Brother.”

“Yes?”

“Doesn’t it seem like Martial Uncle has been acting a bit strange lately?”

“…Lately? Just a bit?”

“…”

“Ugh. What will become of Mount Hua?”

The three remaining people sighed simultaneously.

Pour, pour, pour.

Avoiding the chaotic atmosphere, Chung Myung returned to his room and, uncharacteristically, poured himself a drink.

Then, he quietly placed the cup across from him.

There was no one across the table. But Chung Myung pretended to lift the bottle and clink glasses as if someone were there.

“He resembled you.”

Chung Myung chuckled.

Dang Zhan’s appearance brought back old memories.

Long ago. A very long time ago.

Yes. Very long ago.

– Hey, Master Swordsman! I told you to leave some for me! No one is better than me at stabbing those damned Demonic Sect bastards in the back!

– Those wretched bastards have turned Sichuan into a wasteland! I will never let them return unharmed!

– Are you really a Taoist, Master Swordsman? I’ve never seen a Taoist like you in my life… Hey, put that sword down! Why does a person communicate with a sword instead of their mouth! Ack!

– Master Swordsman… the Dang family… the Dang family… my nephews and nieces… please…

Thud.

Chung Myung placed the bottle down a little roughly and closed his eyes.

Mount Hua fought the Demonic Sect with everything they had.

But in that long war, Mount Hua wasn’t the only one who risked their lives to fight.

‘I’m sorry.’

He had ultimately failed to keep his promise to look after the Dang family. Chung Myung had died as well. He could say that he had protected the Dang family by defeating the Heavenly Demon, but…

Chung Myung knew. That alone wasn’t enough to say he had fully kept his promise.

“Your technique is being passed on.”

Twelve throwing knives.

The Twelve Flying Daggers.

It was still only eleven, but one day, the day would come when twelve Willow Leaf Flying Daggers would be launched from Dang Zhan’s hand.

“Of course, Mount Hua comes first for me.”

But…

“Don’t worry. Even if the Dang family causes trouble, I’ll let it slide once, as long as it’s not too serious.”

For your sake.

Chung Myung picked up the cup he had placed across from him, drank the liquor, and refilled it.

“Let’s have a drink for old times’ sake. It might not taste the same as before.”

A bitter smile appeared on Chung Myung’s lips.