Chapter 1890 – Return of The Mount Hua Sect
Chapter 1890. You Can Do It. (10)❀ ❀ ❀
Cheong Myeong had never really thought of the earth as cold. If anything, the touch of soil beneath his fingers had always felt faintly warm. It had always been that way.
Which was why, what he felt now was wrong.
Yet, the ground before his eyes looked unbearably frigid and cold to him.
“It’s a bit late.”
Cheong Myeong slowly approached Tang Gunak, or more precisely, the lifeless body that had grown cold.
Whatever he truly felt inside, there wasn't the slightest hesitation in his steps. Calm, steady, unflinching… until they finally came to a halt before Tang Gunak.
He looked down at his friend lying on the frozen ground. The color had drained from Tang Gunak's face, leaving him pale, but oddly, at peace.
Wasn't it strange? To see peace in someone struck down by an enemy's hand? It didn't seem fitting at all. And yet, the faint smile lingering at the corners of Tang Gunak's lips seemed to tell Cheong Myeong that his impression was not wrong.
Yes. Perhaps what Cheong Myeong felt was true.
Tang Gunak had done all he could, and left what remained to his comrades. What more could a warrior possibly wish for?
But Cheong Myeong's gaze lingered not on the smile, but on the bloodstains. He stared in silence at the dried blood that marred the pale face, then suddenly sank down on the spot.
Seated cross-legged beside Tang Gunak, Cheong Myeong reached out, trying to wipe the stains from his face. Yet no matter how many times he rubbed, the blood would not come away easily.
“…Father.”
Tang Soso's trembling voice came from behind.
It sounded as if she had tried to hold it back, but at last the cry escaped. Cheong Myeong squeezed his eyes shut.
Sacrifice was inevitable.
In a brutal war, wishing not to lose anyone at all was mere greed. If one chose to fight, then one must also accept the loss that came with it.
Cheong Myeong knew better than anyone that this level of sacrifice could never be called excessive. Even if it had been someone other than Tang Gunak, he should be grateful that more lives had not been lost.
“If only I….”
But the words that slipped out of his mouth carried heavy self-mockery, bitter and sharp.
“If only I were someone who could think that way.”
From within his robes, Cheong Myeong drew out the bottle of liquor he had brought along.
“I think we once promised to share a good drink together next time…”
Glancing at the bottle in his hand, Cheong Myeong gave a wry smile.
“But given the circumstances, this is the best I could prepare. Perhaps you, who drank only the finest, wouldn't find such cheap liquor appealing? Still, on the battlefield, even this is a luxury.”
The hollowness in Cheong Myeong's voice quieted to a faint murmur.
“Try it. It's a drink I like.”
After taking a sip, Cheong Myeong slowly poured the rest by Tang Gunak's lips.
Perhaps it went against proper rites for the dead. But none of the onlookers thought such a thing. They only lowered their heads, as if to avoid the sting of the sharp scent of liquor in the air.
Drip.
After pouring, Cheong Myeong put the bottle away, then again wiped Tang Gunak's face, over and over. At last, the bloodstains faded away.
He gazed quietly at the now-clean face, then slowly lifted his eyes and murmured like a confession.
“I've been thinking of many things I couldn't say to you before. I wanted to tell you, if only you were alive.”
Cheong Myeong's soft voice carried far away.
“But… as I went on living, I came to realize. What weighs heavier than the words I couldn't say… are the words I never got to hear. And that is what makes it all the more bitter.”
The sky was too clear. Almost painfully bright.
Behind him, soft sobbing reached his ears. Cheong Myeong lowered his gaze once more to Tang Gunak's face.
“I don't know if I did as well as you hoped… but at least, I did my best. So…”
His voice weakened.
“So…”
Cheong Myeong could not finish. He drained the rest of the bottle instead.
The liquid sloshed inside the bottle, and he waited silently until the ripples stilled. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, but only shook his head.
Why was it that he had nothing to say? No, that wasn't true. There was far too much to say.
Even if he spent the whole night, it would not be enough to speak every word caught in his chest. But he knew it was better this way.
This was not a place for comforting the living. It was a place for sending off the dead. The ones left behind would simply have to live on, carrying the emptiness of an unfillable void.
Cheong Myeong gently touched Tang Gunak’s shoulder.
“Don't worry… about the Tang family.”
Would it be too much to think that the peaceful expression on his face was an answer? Or was it only that Cheong Myeong wished to take comfort in it?
For a long while, he sat there, cross-legged, staring at Tang Gunak. At last, he rose and turned to the two who stood behind.
He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it, shaking his head. His role was only to give a push to those who could not yet bring themselves to look upon Tang Gunak’s lifeless face.
After gently resting his hands on Tang Soso and Tang Pae’s shoulders, Cheong Myeong moved away.
“Father!”
Behind him, their cries of grief rang out. When he had gone far enough, Baek Cheon was waiting for him.
Cheong Myeong handed him the bottle he carried. Baek Cheon took it wordlessly and drank deep, feeling it burn down his throat before lowering it.
Then, his eyes fixed on Tang Soso, who now clutched her father and wept with abandon.
‘Soso.…’
Tang Soso had endured until the very end, putting her duty before her sorrow. Only now, when there was no need to hold back any longer, did she let her grief pour out.
Should one call it admirable? Or….
“Cheong Myeong-ah.”
Baek Cheon murmured.
“We won, didn't we?”
“…Yeah.”
“Yeah. We did.”
A deep sorrow etched itself on Baek Cheon’s face.
“Then why… why doesn’t it feel like victory?”
Baek Cheon quietly closed his eyes as he looked at Tang Soso and Tang Pae weeping in anguish.
“Let’s take him back to Sichuan. Both the Patriarch… and the Tang Family must return to Sichuan. That’s what he would have wanted.”
Cheong Myeong silently nodded. A moment from the past rose vividly before his eyes.
A warm Sichuan evening. A shabby table. Tang Bo sharing drinks upon it, Tang Jopyeong chattering away beside him. Now, not a single one of them remained in Sichuan.
And now even Tang Gunak, who had filled that emptiness once more, had departed from this world. What meaning could that land possibly hold for Cheong Myeong anymore?
He looked again at Tang Gunak. It seemed like this would truly be the last sight of him. But as he gazed at the faint smile lingering on his lips, a smile of the same shape flickered faintly across Cheong Myeong’s own.
‘…I know, Patriarch.’
People disappear. But memories do not.
As long as he could recall the people he could no longer see in that land, the meaning of Sichuan would never vanish from within him.
Cheong Myeong nodded slowly.
“Yes. Let's do that.”
The pungent scent of wine, mixed with incense someone had lit, drifted through the heavy stench of blood.
Some soothed their overflowing grief with tears, some with stiffened faces, others with promises to the dead.
All those who had come to see Tang Gunak off bowed deeply with clasped fists. No loud voices, no wailing cries of sorrow, yet it was more solemn and reverent than ever.
❀ ❀ ❀
Darkness covered the world.
Unlike yesterday, tonight’s silence embraced everything… the bloodstained earth, the weapons grotesquely lodged in the ground, even the corpses too many to yet be gathered.
The warriors of the Heavenly Comrade Alliance hastily stretched fabric into makeshift tents to keep off the night dew. With no proper bedding, they lay their exhausted bodies beneath crude roofs.
Some were still unable to shake the fevered excitement of battle fought on the edge of death. Others sobbed in grief, and others trembled with sudden waves of fear.
But in the end, all those feelings were swept away by an irresistible tide of sleep. Too drained even to speak, the warriors fell into a slumber like death the moment their heads touched the ground.
The rows of tents, crammed with curled-up bodies, grew quiet quickly. The silence was so deep, it was hard to believe that countless men were trying to sleep within.
A little apart from them, out in the field, Cheong Myeong sat alone, silently tilting back a bottle of wine.
Gulp.
The burning liquor slid down his throat.
He drank and drank, but the stench clinging to his body did not fade. A hollow laugh slipped from his lips.
‘As if it could ever be erased.’
How many lives had these hands been drenched in blood? How many necks had been severed by them?
To wish to ignore all those deaths, to wash away the stench of blood that clung to his flesh… wasn’t that just selfish desire? This reek of blood was the memory of his sins clinging to him. No matter how hard he tried, he could neither forget nor erase it.
And to suddenly wish now to wipe it away, to forget, it was laughable. Too late, too trite.
Even so, just for today. Truly, for today at least, he wanted to be free. If only for a moment, he wanted to escape.
Perhaps it was because… the blood reeking around him tonight did not belong only to his enemies.
“….”
Cheong Myeong tightened his grip on the bottle. If he drank himself enough to lose consciousness, could he forget, even for a moment?
‘Not nearly enough.’
Staring at the one bottle left, Cheong Myeong let out a dry laugh.
Yes, it was not enough. In truth, even if he had all the wine in the world, it wouldn’t be enough. Because this stench wasn’t rising from his body at all.
Just then—
“Soso said…”
A low voice came from behind him. He turned slightly to see Baek Cheon, watching him with a stern face.
“She said your condition’s the worst, that you shouldn't even touch alcohol, and that you absolutely must rest.”
Cheong Myeong’s voice came out flat, hollow, as though something had fallen out of him.
“…So what? Do you mean to drag me off and force me to lie down, invoking your great authority as a stern sasuk?”
Baek Cheon shrugged.
“That’s how it should be. But… you know as well as I do. I’m one of Mount Hua’s troublemakers too.”
Unclasping the hands folded behind his back, Baek Cheon held something up beside his face. Three gourd bottles swayed in his grip.
Clink.
The weight of full liquor sloshed inside, the sound rippling through the still night.
“Took some effort to get. Figured it wasn’t enough for two to drink.”
Cheong Myeong blinked, his face briefly blank. Baek Cheon held out one bottle as if to say, ‘What’s the big deal?’. Cheong Myeong couldn’t help but let out a faint chuckle.
“It’s been so long since you've…”
Cheong Myeong’s hardened voice loosened, softening.
“…done something I actually like, Sasuk.”
The moon above watched quietly over the two men.
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