Return of the Mount Hua Sect [EN]: Chapter 926

The room became so silent you could hear your own heart beat. Dust motes danced in the faint sunlight coming through the window, but no one moved. The air felt heavy with unspoken words.

Everyone held their breath, their eyes locked on Chung Myung and Beop Jeong.

“‘Good heavens…'” Baek Cheon thought, clenching his fist tightly without even noticing.

He had certainly anticipated it to some extent.

It had been proven time and again that Chung Myung did not think highly of Beop Jeong, and the recent incident with the Demonic Sect had only made those feelings worse. Therefore, Baek Cheon had expected that Chung Myung wouldn’t let it slide easily, even if the other party was Beop Jeong.

But…

‘Even so, the man is the Abbot of Shaolin.’

The North Star of the Murim. Shaolin.

Were there any martial artists who did not admire that name? Baek Cheon was from Jongnam and now belonged to Mount Hua, but even to him, Shaolin was something sacred, inviolable.

But this was the Abbot of Shaolin! He was the leader of a holy place. Yet, he was silent. He couldn’t argue against Chung Myung’s harsh words.

Who could have imagined witnessing such a sight in their lifetime?

He knew he should stop it, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak.

All Baek Cheon could do now was hold his breath, straining to catch every single word of their conversation.

“I… I didn’t think of that. If I had, of course, I would have gone to the Yangtze River. This is just…”

“Ah.”

Chung Myung cut off Beop Jeong’s words with a short exclamation.

“You would have gone to the Yangtze River?”

“…Of course…”

“Rushed to the Yangtze River to dissuade the Namgung Clan from fighting the Demonic Sect, hand over the Plum Blossom Island to the Demonic Sect once more, and endure the humiliation of Shaolin succumbing to the Demonic Sect again?”

“…”

A clear sneer formed on Chung Myung’s lips.

“You?”

Beop Jeong closed his mouth again, which he had opened with difficulty.

He tried to say something, but it wouldn’t open as if someone had forcibly sealed it shut.

He reflexively tried to answer that he would have, but he, too, had realized it.

The fact that he would never have done so.

Would Chung Myung, the Sword Saint of Mount Hua, believe something that Beop Jeong himself couldn’t believe? Chung Myung seemed to understand Beop Jeong’s thoughts better than Beop Jeong did.

In the end, a hollow laugh escaped Beop Jeong’s lips. This was not a situation where persuasion would work from the start.

“It seems the Abbot only studies Buddhist teachings and doesn’t understand how the world really works. If you don’t know, I’ll tell you.”

Chung Myung said, dripping with sarcasm.

“One must clean up their own mess.”

“…”

“Instead of running to others, crying and begging them to clean it up for you.”

At that moment, it wasn’t Beop Jeong but Beop Gye who couldn’t contain his rising anger. He could no longer bear to hear that young Taoist lecturing the Abbot of Shaolin as if he were teaching a child.

“You’re going too far!”

Beop Gye retorted, and Chung Myung very slowly turned his head towards him. Then, looking directly at him, he said.

“Too far?”

A groan escaped Beop Gye’s lips for a moment. But he soon calmed himself and spoke gently, as if trying to reason.

“Yes, Shaolin made a mistake. We did wrong. But isn’t the Abbot trying to fix things now? It’s easy to blame, but it’s hard to fix problems. Why are you so harsh?”

Then, Chung Myung stared silently at Beop Gye before letting out a small exclamation.

“Ah, so it’s you. We’ve met before, haven’t we?”

“…”

“We couldn’t even exchange greetings back then at Yangtze River. How have you been?”

“Cough, cough.”

Beop Gye’s face flushed instantly. The word Yangtze River was like an eternal original sin to him. (He felt deeply ashamed about what happened at the Yangtze River.)

“Fix things… Yes, well, what you say is all correct. But… then what have you been doing for the past three years that you’re now trying so hard to fix it? I thought you could have finished it all already if you had just made up your mind?”

“Look here!”

“Hmm, how peculiar.”

Chung Myung shook his head as if he couldn’t understand.

“I’m sure you’re still a person even if you’ve become a monk, but how can you be so shameless?”

“What did you just say…”

“Ah, it seems you can’t understand if I beat around the bush. Then I’ll tell you properly. I’m telling you to shut your mouth, Reverend.”

Beop Gye, at a loss for words, stared at Chung Myung with bewildered eyes.

He had long known that the Sword Saint of Mount Hua was an unbridled person. But who would have imagined that he would be so utterly devoid of manners? They say that when a person is too dumbfounded, they can’t even speak, and that was exactly how Beop Gye felt now.

“A person who tries to fix their mistakes is better than a person who only criticizes. That’s true. But how dare you say those words yourself?”

“…”

“And what? Fix?”

Beop Jeong looked at Chung Myung with a pale face. He was suddenly afraid of what else might come out of his mouth.

“Is that fixing things, coming here and begging us to fight together?”

“…”

“Is that what Shaolin calls fixing things?”

Beop Gye lowered his head.

Although it was harsh, Chung Myung’s words were not wrong. Especially Beop Gye, as one of the main figures in the Yangtze River tragedy, was responsible for this whole situation, so he couldn’t say anything even if he had something to say.

Because he had at least a shred of shame.

“Step back.”

“…Abbot.”

“That’s enough.”

Beop Jeong quietly stared at Chung Myung.

Seeing the deep-rooted distrust of Shaolin in those two eyes, Beop Jeong let out a deep sigh.

‘How did it come to this?’

It was undeniable that Mount Hua had recently shown the most righteous actions in the world.

Doesn’t the fact that the Sword Saint of Mount Hua, who was the center of such Mount Hua, showed such deep-rooted distrust of Shaolin, show the current position of Shaolin?

But he couldn’t back down like this.

“Shaolin…”

Beop Jeong, who hesitated for a moment unlike himself, recited a small Buddhist prayer and continued.

“…is not perfect. I am not perfect either.”

“…”

“Imperfect beings inevitably make mistakes. We can endure the criticism we deserve for the mistakes we have made. But… I cannot bear to see innocent people suffer because of my mistakes and Shaolin’s mistakes.”

Chung Myung glared at Beop Jeong with cold eyes. Nevertheless, Beop Jeong spoke firmly.

“Any conditions are fine. Please, just help us once. Without the Cheonwu Alliance, the Yangtze River will literally become a candle in the wind.”

Beop Jeong bowed his head once more.

He had bowed his head to Hyun Jong a little while ago, but it was slightly different in that he was now bowing his head to Chung Myung.

Everyone who was watching bit their lips.

Chung Myung was right. But now Beop Jeong was really putting everything down and asking them for help. If Beop Jeong had talked about the situation and talked about the justification, no one would have been shaken by his words.

But now Beop Jeong was not putting forward any logic and was just appealing in a low posture. Not only Hyun Jong but also others were looking at Beop Jeong with new eyes at the appeal containing his sincerity.

Perhaps.

Was the situation so urgent that it could not be resolved without their help? If not, why would Beop Jeong bend over and beg them like that?

Could the Abbot of Shaolin kneel and bow his head to a young disciple of another sect just to preserve the power of Shaolin? That wouldn’t be the case, would it?

But.

Only one person’s eyes did not change at all. There was no change, let alone shaking.

“The Abbot hasn’t changed.”

The anger that had been boiling within Chung Myung’s voice disappeared. Now his words were just calm. But because the emotion was not revealed, it strangely sounded twice as eerie as the words he had poured out before.

“You pretend to reflect in such a half-hearted manner, and if you bow your head, you thought that fools like us would have a surge of cooperation and act as human shields for you, right?”

“D-Daojang.”

“Now I know for sure.”

“…”

“The Abbot is not a hypocrite. That’s why I hate the Abbot.”

Beop Jeong frowned.

He hated him because he was not a hypocrite, what does this mean? Usually, don’t people hate him because he is a hypocrite?

Chung Myung added, as if fully understanding his doubts.

“A hypocrite is at least someone who knows what they are doing. It means that they are at least aware that they are doing evil. But…”

Chung Myung’s frosty gaze pierced through Beop Jeong.

“The Abbot is not.”

“…”

“The Abbot is someone who does not doubt for a moment that he is doing the right thing. Someone who completely believes that he is a good person.”

Chung Myung gritted his teeth as if he was about to vomit from talking.

Yes, a hypocrite is someone like Heo Do-jin. He is at least aware that he is a human being who can do evil for the benefit of the sect.

But Beop Jeong is not.

Beop Jeong does not doubt that he is right. No, even if he is suffering now, he does not doubt that he will eventually get the result that he is right.

At this moment, Beop Jeong is convinced that persuading Hwasan to participate in the Yangtze River war is the way to save the world.

He does not hesitate because he believes he is right.

He can bow his head to a young man because he completely believes that he is right.

To him, bowing his head to Chung Myung is nothing more than a sacred process of moving towards a complete conclusion through his own sacrifice.

‘I doubted.’

Even while fighting for his life in the middle of that hellish landscape of the Ten Thousand Great Mountains, Chung Myung constantly doubted himself. Whether this was really the right way, whether he really made the right choice.

Not only Chung Myung, but also Chung Mun. No, everyone there would have doubted and doubted again.

But those who stood behind them and watched their deaths did not doubt. They would have spouted words of sacred sacrifice and been convinced that it was the right thing to drive so many people into that hell.

Yes. Just like the current Beop Jeong.

This person puts many people to death while feeling sorry for them. He sheds tears but never regrets it. Because he never doubts that he is doing the right thing.

“Once was enough.”

A heavy pressure seemed to fill the room, coming from Chung Myung. It wasn’t just strength; it felt like a cold, invisible weight pushing down on Beop Jeong, making it hard to breathe.

Beop Jeong couldn’t even think of exhaling in the face of the unknown, terrible weight of energy.

“As long as I’m alive, you better not even think about using Hwasan with your silver tongue.”

Chung Myung’s quiet declaration looked like a wounded beast growling.

“Get out of here right now. Or I’ll break your precious neck.”

The color drained from Beop Jeong’s face.