Chapter 1881 – Return of The Mount Hua Sect

Chapter 1881. You Can Do It (1) ❀ ❀ ❀

A massive calligraphy brush gripped in a large hand swept across the plaque without hesitation.

The brushstrokes were exactly what one would call ‘dragon and snake soaring through the skies’, a forceful yet refined script. Bold black lines, imbued with strength and precision, drew four characters on the white-tinged plaque.

[yongsabideung, 용사비등(龍蛇飛騰)]

Tak.

“Hmph.”

The middle-aged man stared at the completed calligraphy for a long moment, then furrowed his brows and shook his head. Without a trace of regret, he set the plaque aside and brought forward a fresh, clean one.

“Ugh. Seriously.”

“...Hm?”

“It all looks the same! What’s the difference, really? You keep rewriting it again and again... Don’t you have anything better to do?”

“What do you mean ‘the same’, you rascal?”

The man, Cheong Mun, glared and picked up the plaque he had just set aside. He pointed to one diagonal stroke.

“Look here! Here! The stroke is slightly crooked, isn’t it?”

“Where exactly is it crooked?”

“Here! Right here, you idiot! Can’t you see it?”

“....Even an ant wouldn’t notice that.”

Cheong Myeong grumbled and massaged his throbbing head. He could see a stack of discarded plaques piling up nearby, the failed attempts(?) apparently.

“Why go to such lengths for something so trivial? Just slap something on there and give it to them. They’d be grateful even if you wrote it with your toes.”

“Ahem.”

But Cheong Mun shook his head firmly.

“They entrusted this to the Sect with full faith. I can’t not put my heart into it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure.”

Cheong Myeong let out a long sigh.

This kind of thing happened from time to time. A secular disciple who had left the mountain would open a martial hall and request a signboard from the Sect Leader.

But to treat every such request, of which there were several every year, with this much sincerity... No, obsession... Who else would do that but this guy?

Cheong Myeong watched Cheong Mun resume his calligraphy, then casually turned his head and gazed out the window.

He could faintly hear the sounds of insects and birds, someone training in the distance, and the strong wind of Mount Hua sweeping past the window.

“Is something bothering you?”

When he turned back, he saw that Cheong Mun had set down his brush and was now staring straight at him.

“Bothering me? What would be bothering me in this boring old Taoist temple?”

“Your face says otherwise.”

“I said nothing’s wrong.”

“Tell me. I’ll listen.”

“Oh, come on.”

Cheong Myeong stretched his limbs and slumped back against the wall.

“It’s just... something came to mind.”

“...What sort of thought?”

“Sahyung. Why do people live?”

A strange silence fell over them. Cheong Mun’s expression twisted slightly, as if he had seen something he shouldn’t have, or heard something he shouldn’t. He tilted his head after a moment of hesitation.

“Did you eat something bad?”

“You told me to talk! You said you’d listen! Ugh, this is why I didn’t want to say anything!”

Cheong Myeong sprang to his feet, fuming, and Cheong Mun quickly coughed and tried to calm him down.

“No, I just... It was too unexpected. It’s like... how should I put it... it was like seeing the dog that Cheong Hwa was raising suddenly say politely, ‘Dojang, as a fellow Taoist now, I no longer wish to consume meat.’ and then politely turn away from his food bowl.”

“I told you to stop explaining!”

“Uh... right, right.”

Cheong Mun nodded, still a bit dazed. Cheong Myeong, gritting his teeth, flopped back into his seat.

Cheong Mun’s face turned more serious.

“Why do people live... that's what you wanted to know?”

“Would I ask if I didn’t?”

At Cheong Myeong’s blunt response, Cheong Mun smiled softly. There was a strange sense of serenity in that smile. Cheong Myeong, forgetting that he had just been angry, stared at him blankly.

“Why do people live... Hmm.”

Cheong Mun slowly stroked his beard.

“I don’t really know myself.”

“....”

“Maybe because we were born. It’s just the natural thing to do.”

Cheong Myeong, who had straightened his back in expectation, leaned back against the wall again.

“But why are you asking that all of a sudden?”

“Well, there’s no particular reason.”

Cheong Myeong spoke casually and glanced out the window again. In the distance, he could see people training. He watched them for a while, their sweat glistening under the sunlight, then spoke quietly in a subdued voice.

“We’re all going to die anyway. Then it’s all over. No matter what you do, the result is the same... Sometimes it just feels foolish to struggle so hard.”

“...Hmm.”

“No matter how much they push themselves, all they get is a little stronger than others. Wouldn’t it be easier to just give up and live comfortably? I can’t help but wonder what the point of all that suffering is.”

“Mmm.”

Cheong Mun stroked his chin as if in deep thought, then nodded solemnly.

“You’re not wrong.”

“Hey, you!”

“...What?”

Cheong Myeong looked utterly flabbergasted and pointed at Cheong Mun.

“You’re the Sect Leader, for heaven’s sake! You can’t agree with that! You’re supposed to say it’s wrong!”

“How can I say something is wrong when it’s true?”

“... I should stop talking.”

Cheong Myeong shook his head, drained of energy. The more he thought about it, the more ridiculous it seemed. He gave a hollow laugh and turned back to the window.

After a short silence, Cheong Myeong spoke again.

“So... are you saying that all of this really is meaningless, Sahyung?”

“It could be.”

“What do you mean, ‘could be’?”

“It could have meaning, too.”

“You sound like a talking horse or something...”

[note: 말코 is a colloquial, somewhat joking/slightly dismissive expression, short for "말하는 코끼리" or modeled after "말하는 동물" (talking animal), used when someone says something strangely profound, ridiculous, or unexpected for their character. It can be translated contextually depending on tone. Here, it conveys exasperation, like “What are you, some kind of philosopher now?” or “You sound ridiculous…”]

Cheong Mun laughed heartily at Cheong Myeong’s exasperated tone.

“Because both are true.”

“How can both be true? If one is right, the other has to be wrong!”

“That’s not necessarily the case.”

“....What?”

Cheong Mun gazed out the window with warmth in his eyes as he continued.

“Meaning isn’t absolute.”

“....”

“Whether something has meaning or not... that’s something only people decide.”

Cheong Mun looked at the plaque in front of him.

“Like you said, to some people, this plaque is just a meaningless piece of wood.”

“......”

“But to the one who requested it, this plaque holds more meaning than anything else.”

Cheong Mun gently closed his eyes and slowly ran his hand over the corner of the plaque.

“It’s the same for everyone, I suppose.”

“Everyone?”

“The world is just the world, and life is just life. Nothing particularly special.”

“.....”

“But how you view that world, and where you choose to find the meaning of your life, that’s entirely up to each person. To one person, those drops of sweat may seem meaningless, but to another, they may be something more precious than anything else.”

When Cheong Myeong stayed silent, Cheong Mun gently asked.

“Are you feeling empty?”

“It’s just something that crossed my mind. I am younger, after all. Younger than you and the other sajes.”

“That’s true.”

“And I’m a bit stronger in martial arts too.”

“That’s true.”

“So, no matter how much I think about it, everyone seems to die before me.”

“......”

“Then... is there really any meaning in me surviving? I don’t think it’ll be any fun. Well... Not that it’s all that fun now, anyway.”

Cheong Mun chuckled softly at that.

“Why are you laughing?”

“I’m just worried about the poor souls who’ll be stuck with you after we’re gone, not you...”

“But, this guy, has been acting like this since a while ago!”

Cheong Mun rose from his seat and slowly walked toward the window where Cheong Myeong stood.

Then, as Cheong Mun stood facing the window, he lifted one of the hands he had clasped behind his back and gently placed it on top of Cheong Myeong’s head.

“You just have to move forward.”

“......”

“I told you, didn’t I? That meaning is something people create. The you of then and the you of now will be different, so you’ll find your own meaning at that time. Don’t cling to the past. Don’t desperately try to hold on to what’s been lost. Just...”

From the hand resting on his head, Cheong Myeong felt warmth.

Staring blankly at Cheong Mun, who was gazing out the window, he asked quietly,

“Move forward?”

“Mm.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just sit down and rest?”

“Hmm. Indeed... that might be true. There’s joy to be found even in peacefully sitting and enjoying the scenery.”

“No... but…”

“But still.”

Cheong Mun looked down at Cheong Myeong with a soft smile.

“If you keep walking forward... maybe you’ll see a view you couldn’t see before.”

“......”

“And maybe, just maybe... there’s something there. Something that will make your life not so meaningless.”

Cheong Myeong looked at Cheong Mun’s smiling face in silence for a moment, then turned his head sharply.

“It’s not meaningless right now, you know?”

“Is that so? Haha.”

Cheong Mun’s quiet laughter filled the room.

The rich scent of ink, the sounds of birds from outside the window, the sun streaming in like a gentle embrace, and then...

❀ ❀ ❀

Tak.

Cheong Myeong placed his hand on the ground.

He couldn’t see. Anything. It was as if he had gone blind.

There was no feeling in his hands or feet. He couldn’t tell whether he was alive or dead.

He couldn’t know. For he had experienced death, and yet, also had not.

Kkuug.

Even so, Cheong Myeong forced his body to rise once again.

He wanted to rest. If he lay down like this, everything would become easier. No one could point fingers and say he didn’t do enough. Cheong Myeong had gone beyond his own limits.

Yes. He had done enough. So this wasn’t just stubbornness.

“Move forward...”

If he couldn’t see anything, if he couldn’t find any reason or meaning, then he would just go forward.

“Yeah... maybe...”

A faint smile curved on Cheong Myeong’s lips.

It didn’t matter whether he was alive or dead. Nothing would change. He would just move forward. Because the meaning of his life would be waiting at the end of that path.

However.

‘Sahyung... you were wrong.’

It’s not only in front of him. Not just in the future.

He could feel something pushing him from behind.

‘That wasn’t everything.’

Cheong Myeong is the one who connects. The link that joins the unreachable past with the unreceived future.

Yes. That alone had been enough.

But now, he knows.

Cheong Myeong is also walking the future they had all longed for. Cheong Myeong is the future that Cheong Mun had tried so hard to protect.

And so, he must destroy it.

The one blocking his path, right before his eyes.

The resentment that must be shed, the anger that has lost its direction, the other self that sat down in place, unable to move forward.

Drag.

His foot scraped against the ground. Each step he took was shaky, as if he might collapse at any moment, but still, he walked forward. And forward again.

Twitch.

Had he sensed the movement?

Jang Ilso, too, stubbornly pressed a hand to the ground in response. Like an old, withered pine slowly stretching out its branches, he let his body rise by instinct, every movement a struggle.

Their eyes met briefly.

Within reach, within dulled senses, they recognized each other. In that instant, Cheong Myeong stepped forward, and Jang Ilso instinctively stepped back.

At last, Cheong Myeong’s fist, no longer able to carry anything, flew toward Jang Ilso’s face.

A punch so slow, it was almost too pathetic to land.

Jang Ilso’s eyes widened.

‘Me?’

But because he stepped back, Jang Ilso couldn’t avoid the punch. His body, already at its limit, was using everything just to stay upright.

Thwack!

Cheong Myeong’s fist struck Jang Ilso’s jaw. Jang Ilso’s body crumpled backward.

‘Because... I stepped back...’

Crash!

The colossus of an era. The overlord of the Evil Sect.

The Paegun, Jang Ilso, fell just like that.

Next Chapter

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