Return of the Mount Hua Sect [EN]: Chapter 82

“We have to walk with our knees straight, they said, even just around here.”

“And they told me I need to ask permission just to get water!”

“This is crazy! They are so mean and picky.”

The older disciples were making their lives miserable in every way they could think of.

During training, they found fault with every small detail. And in their daily lives, they criticized everything.

Today, they were ordered to clean the entire outside of the White Blossom Hall until there wasn’t a speck of dust.

“I’d rather they just beat us!”

Jo Gul gritted his teeth.

He was used to being bullied with fists, but he couldn’t adapt to this kind of torment.

“I never imagined that our Senior Brothers would be like this.”

“I used to respect them!”

“This isn’t some backwater gang; is this even allowed?”

Yoon Jong sighed deeply.

‘There’s nothing that isn’t allowed.’

It was clear the older disciples were doing this to be mean. You could hear the meanness and teasing in their voices.

But that didn’t mean their actions were wrong. In the first place, everything the Second-Generation disciples demanded was stipulated in the Mount Hua’s rules.

So, what’s the problem?

‘The rules were established at least two hundred years ago.’

Usually, old rules are changed as times change.

But Mount Hua’s rules had not been updated.

So, until now, everyone had quietly agreed to ignore the old rules to avoid problems.

But now, the Second-Generation disciples were bringing up these rules and cracking down on the Third-Generation disciples.

Above all, the biggest problem was that these ancient rules were all double-edged swords.

“No, how does the idea that Mount Hua disciples should never let go of their swords mean that they have to carry their swords even when they’re washing or relieving themselves!”

“…They even told me to hold it while eating.”

“They tell us to hold it even when we sleep!”

“If that was all, I wouldn’t even complain. How does the idea that Mount Hua disciples should always engrave the teachings of the ancestors in their hearts mean that they have to memorize the entire history of Mount Hua!”

“…Even they don’t know it.”

“Exactly!”

The Third-Generation disciples gnashed their teeth.

Everyone was getting stressed by these strange and silly rules. Every time the older disciples sneaked up and looked them over closely, they felt like they were getting older faster.

“We can’t even eat in peace!” Jo Gul complained, wiping sweat from his brow. “And we can’t sleep well either!”

“If they’re bored,” another disciple grumbled, “they call us for roll call. And if one person makes a tiny mistake, they yell at all of us!”

“This is madness!” cried a third disciple. “In the middle of the day!”

“Senior Brother!” Jo Gul pleaded, turning to Yoon Jong. “We have to do something!”

Yoon Jong sighed, a heavy sound that spoke of exhaustion. “What do you want me to do?” he asked, his voice flat.

“This is too much! It’s obvious they’re trying to torment us; there’s a limit to how much we can take.”

“That’s right! I can put up with everything else, but I can’t stand them interfering with our training! No matter what, this is still a martial arts sect; they shouldn’t interfere with our training!”

The Third-Generation disciples’ eyes were bloodshot.

Actually, the younger and older disciples hadn’t argued much before. The older disciples were busy training themselves, and teaching the younger ones was the job of the White Blossom Hall. So, they were like strangers to each other.

Still, the Third-Generation disciples had felt something akin to admiration for the Second-Generation disciples. But now that they were acting so petty, their sense of betrayal was indescribable.

Yoon Jong glanced at the source of all this.

Yoon Jong, who was watching Chung Myung leaning nonchalantly against the chair, carefully opened his mouth.

“Chung Myung.”

“Huh?”

“…Shouldn’t we do something about this?”

“About what?”

“The Senior Brothers, the Senior Brothers.”

Yoon Jong sighed deeply.

Everyone knew why this was happening, even if they didn’t say it out loud.

Right now, the Second-Generation disciples wanted the Third-Generation disciples, especially Chung Myung, to bow their heads and come to them.

‘It’s a very pathetic method, though.’

Yoon Jong understood their position to some extent.

In fact, this wasn’t so much Baek Ja’s fault as it was Chung Myung’s fault. To be precise, it wasn’t Chung Myung’s actions, but his very existence that was the problem.

Even if Yoon Jong was Baek Ja, he would find it hard to accept someone like Chung Myung in his group. Chung Myung was like a troublemaker.

So far, there hadn’t been any problems with his relationship with the First-Generation disciples or the elders. That was because Chung Myung never crossed the line when dealing with them. Whatever he felt inside, he clearly showed respect for the elders of the sect on the outside.

But it was different for Baek Ja.

Hadn’t Yoon Jong already seen how Chung Myung treated Baek Ja?

“…Isn’t it obvious what they want?”

“Obvious?”

Yoon Jong sighed once more.

“I know your personality, so I won’t tell you to bow down. Just try to humor them a little, and I’ll try to resolve this somehow…”

“Humor?”

Yoon Jong’s eyes twitched slightly at Chung Myung’s voice.

Oh dear, I chose the wrong word…

But contrary to Yoon Jong’s expectations, Chung Myung didn’t explode. Rather, he looked at Yoon Jong with sparkling eyes and spoke more cheerfully than ever.

“Senior Brother, Senior Brother!”

“Yes?”

“I think I know a better solution than that! This will solve everything!”

Looking at Chung Myung’s face, beaming with excitement, Yoon Jong felt uneasy even before hearing it, but as the Eldest Brother, he had no choice but to ask.

“…What’s the method?”

“What else? We just beat those Senior Brothers to a pulp!”

No sooner had Chung Myung finished speaking than he jumped up from his seat. Startled, Yoon Jong screamed in horror.

“Grab him! Grab him! We’re all going to die if you don’t grab him! Graaaab him!”

Maybe because they felt as worried as Yoon Jong, the other disciples, who were ready for this, all jumped forward at the same time. While they grabbed and clung to Chung Myung’s arms and legs, Jo Gul jumped up with all his might and pinned Chung Myung’s body to the floor.

“Aaaaargh!”

“Don’t let go! Don’t ever let go!”

“Let go! Won’t you let go?”

The Third-Generation disciples, clinging to Chung Myung like a pack of dogs, desperately held on. Their desperate eyes showed a firm determination to ‘never let this mad dog out of the White Blossom Hall.’

“Chung Myung! Calm down, Chung Myung!”

“We’re all going to be destroyed!”

“There’s a limit to insubordination! You’ll really be expelled if you beat a Senior Brother!”

Chung Myung’s eyes rolled wildly.

“Alright, I won’t beat them! I won’t beat them! I’ll just punch them once! I’m only hitting them once!”

“That’s still beating them, you madman! Hey! Hold him properly!”

“No, how can one person be so strong!”

“Ugh!”

Chung Myung writhed and gnashed his teeth.

“Those crazy jerks are doing things they didn’t even do a hundred years ago! I’m so pissed off!”

Taoism is about being natural. It means Taoism is not supposed to be controlled by strict rules and social ranks.

There’s a well-known story about Lao Tzu telling Confucius not to be so formal when Confucius came to see him, right?

But now, those who were supposed to be Taoist disciples were acting like old fogeys that even Confucianists wouldn’t act like.

“Calm down, Chung Myung! It’ll be a real problem if you beat the Senior Brothers.”

“All the good things you’ve done so far could be wasted!”

“Just stay still! Just stay still!”

“Let go! Won’t you let go? I swear!”

The Third-Generation disciples literally built a giant human tower to press down on Chung Myung. But every time Chung Myung twitched, the giant tower swayed.

Yoon Jong watched them and started sweating. ‘This is crazy! Is this even possible?’ he thought.

Baek Cheon is the strongest among the Second-Generation disciples.

Before Chung Myung came, the title of Mount Hua’s greatest talent naturally belonged to Baek Cheon, and everyone had no doubt that he would one day become Mount Hua’s greatest master.

Jo Gul’s talent was also nothing to be ashamed of, but in the end, martial arts were something that was built up over time. It was almost impossible for Jo Gul to catch up with Baek Cheon, who had learned the sword more than ten years earlier.

Even if it were possible, it would be decades later.

Groups were like that. Even if you were talented, the time you spent training was different, and the skills you learned were different. That’s why it was hard to overcome the difference between groups.

But what was the situation unfolding before Yoon Jong’s eyes now?

The youngest of the Thirteenth Generation, Chung Myung, who had entered Mount Hua most recently, was spouting nonsense about beating the Eldest Brother of the Twelfth Generation.

‘The real problem is that no one here thinks that’s impossible.’

If you think about it logically?

I don’t know.

No matter how strong Chung Myung was, it didn’t seem like he could win against Baek Cheon. Even if Chung Myung had learned martial arts since he could walk, Baek Cheon would have been holding a sword for even longer.

Moreover, Baek Cheon wasn’t someone who lacked talent.

It was impossible to overcome the difference in time with an ordinary difference in talent. Those who could do that were called geniuses, but even the greatest genius needed time to overcome a difference of more than ten years.

Logically, really logically, it was completely impossible for Chung Myung to win against Baek Cheon.

‘But the problem is that strangely, I have a feeling that Senior Brother Baek Cheon will get beaten up if they actually fight.’

In the first place, common sense and reason didn’t apply to this man in front of him. What had been common sense in anything this guy had done so far?

“Chung Myung.”

Yoon Jong sighed deeply and said.

“I know how you feel, but it’s absolutely not allowed right now.”

“Why?”

“The Hwajong Tournament is just around the corner.”

“So what?”

“…Senior Brother Baek Cheon is supposed to be the representative of the Second-Generation disciples at the Hwajong Tournament. What if he gets beaten up by you and can’t participate in the Hwajong Tournament?”

“Hey. Do you think I’d beat him up that badly? It’s my specialty to beat people up so they hurt but don’t get injured. Don’t you know?”

“I know.”

I know it very well. Because I’ve been beaten up countless times.

“But still, it’s not allowed. Imagine Senior Brother Baek Cheon getting beaten up by a junior disciple. How much confidence would he have left?”

“…”

“Let’s just put up with it for a bit longer. It’s better to be annoyed by Senior Brother Baek Cheon than to be laughed at by those Jongnam jerks.”

Chung Myung frowned.

“I think it would be better to just blow them away and feel refreshed.”

“Just this once, please let it go for my sake. The Hwajong Tournament is that important. I’m begging you.”

“Hmm.”

Chung Myung turned his head. And he said in a slightly softened voice.

“Now move.”

The disciples looked at Yoon Jong. When Yoon Jong nodded, they finally let go of Chung Myung and slowly stepped back. Even so, they maintained a distance so that they could grab Chung Myung again at any time if he jumped out.

“So, I just have to bear with it until the Hwajong Tournament is over, right?”

“…It’s not that you have to bear with it until then…”

“Why are you being so unclear! Just say it straight!”

Yoon Jong closed his eyes tightly. And he said with the feeling of putting out the urgent fire first.

“Yes! Only until the Hwajong Tournament!”

“Alright.”

Chung Myung nodded readily.

“Senior Brother has worked hard all this time, so I should at least listen to that much.”

“…I’m so grateful I could cry.”

“Why are you crying?”

“No. It’s nothing.”

These aren’t tears. It’s like my heart is sweating, you jerk.

“But what should I do if they pick a fight?”

“…Do you think that will happen?”

“If they do.”

Yoon Jong sighed.

“Then do whatever you want. I don’t know anymore.”

“Really?”

Chung Myung curled up the corners of his lips into a smirk. Seeing that smile, Yoon Jong’s heart grew endlessly uneasy.