Return of the Mount Hua Sect [EN]: Chapter 453

There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky.

Baek Cheon wore a gentle smile on his face.

“Good.”

“It’s really good.”

Yoon Jong and Jo Gul, lying next to him, also gazed at the sky with faces like contented cats.

A sky of flawless clarity.

A refreshing breeze blowing.

And even the faint scent of plum blossoms carried on that breeze.

Everything was perfect.

“It’s true what they say, there’s no place like home.”

“Yes, that’s right. I didn’t even think about looking up at the sky until I returned to Mount Hua, their home and training place.”

Of course, that was mostly because of that troublemaker, Cheong Myeong.

They had finished their long trip. They were back home at Mount Hua. It was wonderful to relax like this. They felt very happy.

But Yoon Jong made the good mood less happy.

“…It would be perfect if only their leader, Hyun Jong, hadn’t fallen ill and taken to his bed.”

A sigh escaped from all three of them at the same moment.

Hyun Jong, after hearing the detailed explanation about the Heavenly Union, a powerful group they learned about, had literally spread out his bedding and collapsed.

Let’s not even mention how he almost got scolded for saying, ‘Why are you reacting like that when Cheong Myeong brought back such a great title?’…

“It would be less pathetic if at least the wall hadn’t collapsed.”

“…Indeed. He should at least change rooms.”

Seeing him lying down in a room where the wall had collapsed and the wind was whistling through was enough to bring tears to their eyes. Baek Cheon and Yoon Jong had somehow managed to bring some cloth and temporarily block the wall, but still.

“But is that really enough to make him fall ill and take to his bed?” Jo Gul tilted his head, looking as if he couldn’t understand, and Baek Cheon sighed.

“He’s already got a headache with just Mount Hua, and now his workload is only going to increase.”

“The headache with Mount Hua is because of Cheong Myeong, though.”

“Cheong Myeong is in the Union too, isn’t he?”

“…I hadn’t thought of that.”

Baek Cheon shook his head.

“And even if I were willing to go to the city of Xi’an, there’s no way that walking there on my own two feet is the same as being swept away by a typhoon and blown all the way to Xi’an.”

“…I understand.”

And the problem was that Hyun Jong had no intention of going to Xi’an in the first place.

“Anyway, that…”

Clunk!

“Now that we’ve returned to Mount Hua, strive to embody what you’ve seen and felt on this journey. Resume the sword training that you haven’t been able to fully dedicate yourselves to…”

“Keeeugh!”

Clunk! Clunk!

Baek Cheon furrowed his brow and rose to his feet.

“The cart is shaking because the speed is dropping! Can’t you run properly?”

“Keeeugh… S-Senior Brother. This is too heavy.”

“What kind of cart is made of iron scraps…”

The three men who had been lying down were on top of the iron cart that Cheong Myeong had been lying on throughout the journey. The three who rose looked at the Mount Hua disciples pulling the cart.

“Are your feet still moving? Keep going! Feet! Feet!”

“I went all the way to Sichuan pulling this!”

The Mount Hua disciples, who were pulling the cart while pouring sweat like rain under the barrage of merciless words, secretly gnashed their teeth.

‘Did we ask you to do this!’

‘Why are you taking it out on us when you were the ones who suffered at Cheong Myeong’s hands!’

In the center of the training grounds, other disciples were collapsed, tongues lolling out. They were the ones who had already pulled the cart once. They were sprawled out as if they were barely clinging to life, and it seemed like they had fainted.

At that moment, Jo Gul’s friendly voice rang out.

“I know from experience, this is a really good training method. I can’t be the only one doing this good thing, can I?”

“You…”

“Huh?”

“Ah, nothing.”

Those who swallowed their resentment pulled the cart with all their might again.

Baek Cheon looked down at them and his eyes gleamed slightly.

‘Senior Brother must have suffered a lot.’

The fact that they had the strength to open their mouths even while running at full speed while pulling this heavy cart meant that their basic physical strength had increased much more than before he left for Sichuan.

“It’s like a wet rag; even if you think you’ve squeezed it all out, if you wring it out one more time, you can still get another drop.”

‘This must be how Cheong Myeong feels when he torments us.’

‘I hate that I understand.’

Baek Cheon clicked his tongue and shouted.

“Run faster! Faster! Run and run until you lose feeling in your legs!”

“Keeeugh!”

“Aaargh!”

The Mount Hua disciples foamed at the mouth and pulled the cart, speeding at the speed of light.

And a little later.

“Kraaah!”

“I can’t anymore… I can’t pull anymore…”

The Mount Hua disciples who were pulling the cart began to fall one by one, and the cart came to a stop.

Baek Cheon clicked his tongue and got off the cart.

“Everyone, pay attention!”

“Attention!”

The Mount Hua disciples who were sprawled out groaned and rose to their feet. And somehow, they lined up and stared at Baek Cheon.

“Do you like the swords?”

“Yes, Senior Brother!”

“It’s the best, Senior Uncle!”

The word ‘sword’ made everyone straighten their necks. Even then, their eyes kept darting down to the steel sword tied around their waists.

‘To think I would receive this.’

‘Even if everything else is bad, this is really the best.’

A sword made of a very rare and strong metal called Ten Thousand Year Cold Iron was a treasure sword that even in the rich Floating Clouds Sect, another group of martial artists, only elders could hope to hold. To give such a sword to ordinary disciples was unprecedented.

“The value of that sword is greater than you think. Do not forget the grace of the Sect and their leader, Hyun Jong, who bestowed that sword upon you.”

“Yes, Senior Uncle!”

Everyone’s faces were filled with excitement.

Baek Cheon smiled contentedly as he looked at their faces.

“However, there is a slight problem…”

“…Yes?”

“That sword, I mean.”

He gestured slightly with his chin towards the steel sword.

“It’s a bit expensive.”

“…”

At those words, the Mount Hua disciples flinched and looked down at their swords. And as if they understood, they nodded heavily.

‘Well, it would be expensive.’

‘Very expensive. It’s Ten Thousand Year Cold Iron.’

Seeing that everyone seemed to understand, Baek Cheon nodded greatly.

“That’s right. Yes. It’s very expensive. But think about it. You will now have the opportunity to go out into the world with that sword, but what will happen if you lose it?”

“…It will be a disaster.”

“No, no. Don’t think about it so simply. Think about what will happen the moment you lose it and come back.”

“…”

The faces of the Mount Hua disciples, who had been quiet for a moment, turned blue.

The mere thought of it was so terrible that they shuddered.

‘Cheong Myeong isn’t the problem here.’

‘Elder Hyun Young will kill us.’

This was an unbearable future.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“…Yes.”

Baek Cheon nodded firmly.

“People say, ‘A treasure belongs to the one strong enough to keep it.'”

Baek Cheon looked at each of his disciples, his eyes serious and sharp.

“If you wish to wield that sword, you must become swordsmen worthy of it.”

The Hwasan disciples’ eyes widened. They understood. They had been so excited about the sword, they forgot the most important thing: they needed to be strong enough to use it.

“So, stop complaining and work hard. You must prove that you are worthy to be the sword’s master. Do you understand?”

“Yes!”

“Good. Next group.”

Some disciples looked down, their shoulders slumping. They walked slowly to the heavy cart, disappointment heavy in their steps.

Just then, Yoon Jong asked Baek Cheon,

“But, Martial Uncle.”

“Hmm?”

“Where did Uncle Baek Sang go? I haven’t seen him since earlier.”

“Ah, Baek Sang? I sent him to Hwaeum for a bit.”

“Yes? Hwaeum? Why Hwaeum all of a sudden?”

“We’re short on them.”

“Yes?”

Baek Cheon pointed his chin towards the iron cart.

“This.”

“There are so many kids, one cart is not enough. So, I told him to make a few more. And while he’s at it, to make a separate cart that can be pulled while climbing the mountain.”

“Hahaha. Their legs will become very strong, don’t you think?”

Yoon Jong stared at Baek Cheon, his eyes wide and a little scared. ‘Martial Uncle,’ he thought, ‘How far will you make them go?’

Un Geum smiled gently, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He carefully poured steaming tea into a small cup and offered it to Chung Myung. Even with only his left hand, he moved smoothly, like he had done it a thousand times.

“How’s your body feeling?”

“I’m used to it now.”

“Are you uncomfortable?”

Un Geum’s voice became serious and thoughtful.

“When you think about it, everything in the world is uncomfortable.”

“Humans cannot fly like birds or swim like fish. They cannot run like horses or climb trees like monkeys. Wouldn’t you say that’s uncomfortable?”

Chung Myung nodded as if in agreement.

“It’s the same. Some people use two arms, but I must now use one. The discomfort has increased a little, but it’s just a slight difference.”

To master martial arts means acknowledging such differences and doing one’s best in one’s own situation. What great problem is there if things are a little more uncomfortable than before? One simply needs to try a little harder.

In truth, Chung Myung didn’t particularly like these kinds of words.

He had lived as a Taoist his whole life, but sometimes these words about the Dao felt like beautiful ideas, but hard to understand, like trying to grab clouds.

However, he would never have dared to stand up to Chung Mun, who he couldn’t even compare to in terms of fighting skills, and the reason he respected Un Geum was because they had personally put those cloud-grasping words into practice.

Chung Myung looked at Un Geum’s left forearm. Even in the short time that had passed, it had become even more solid. It was clearly visible even under his clothes.

“Give it to me.”

“Yes.”

Chung Myung handed over the Hancheol sword he had brought. It was for Un Geum.

With one hand, Un Geum slowly drew the sword and gazed at the white blade.

“It’s a good sword.”

A smile appeared on his lips.

“It’s a good sword. Sharp and strong.”

And he looked quietly at Chung Myung.

“Chung Myung.”

“Yes, Sect Leader.”

“You are doing really well.”

Chung Myung closed his mouth.

The gaze Un Geum sent him subtly shook Chung Myung.

“This sword isn’t for you, is it? It’s for the children of Hwasan who can’t keep up with you. Isn’t that right?”

Chung Myung scratched the back of his head, a small smile on his face, trying to look like it wasn’t a big deal.

“Well, it’s not that grand.”

But Un Geum smiled as if he could see right through him.

“You can go ahead alone, but isn’t it frustrating to lead the children?”

“Well…”

Chung Myung thought for a moment, looking a little confused.

There were many words he could use to hide his true feelings, but he didn’t feel like it now.

“To be honest, it was incredibly frustrating at first.”

Chung Myung turned his head and looked towards the window. He couldn’t see it from here, but Baek Cheon and the other senior brothers were probably guiding the Hwasan disciples right now. Or perhaps they were focused on their personal training.

“But I’m okay these days. The martial uncles and senior brothers are all working hard.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. These days, there are times when I can’t handle it.”

“That sounds quite amazing.”

Un Geum spoke as if joking and laughed lightly.

After almost dying and losing everything, he started to see things differently.

“Chung Myung.”

“Yes, Sect Leader.”

“Then there’s no need to be rushing, is there?”

“You’ve returned to Hwasan, so rest a little. Even a fast horse needs to rest. If it runs too much without stopping, it will fall and never run well again.”

Chung Myung, watching him closely, quietly nodded his head.

“I will.”

“Good.”

Chung Myung felt a little embarrassed as Un Geum smiled at him, pleased.

‘He’s really like a grown-up,’ Chung Myung thought.

He couldn’t even compare in terms of years lived. Was this why Sect Leader was always telling him to grow up?

“How is the left-handed sword technique going?”

“I haven’t started yet.”

“Huh? Why?”

Un Geum replied in a calm voice.

“I taught the children the basics and built a solid lower body, as you said. But wouldn’t it be strange if I only mastered swordsmanship while giving such teachings to the disciples?”

“Ah…”

“So, first of all, I am rebuilding my body as well. Until I have firmly established my roots. I was just about to start seeing results and begin.”

Un Geum said, looking at Chung Myung.

“What do you think? Will you help me a little?”

“It will be difficult if you do it with me.”

“Haha. I’ve pushed the children so hard all this time, so I should be pushed hard in return.”

“If you’re prepared for that, then by all means!”

“Good. Shall I receive the teachings of the student?”

“I’m just helping you. It’s not a teaching or anything.”

“It’s the same thing, you rascal.”

Un Geum ruffled Chung Myung’s hair with his one remaining hand and laughed.

And that day, in the training hall behind Baekma Hall, the *swish, swish* of swords cutting through the air filled the night, going on and on until the first light of morning.