Chapter 1908 - Return of The Mount Hua Sect

Chapter 1908. I’m Home. (2) ❀ ❀ ❀

“Uh… Sahyung. Is it really okay for us to be doing this?”

A subtle sense of unease filled the voice that asked the question. No, perhaps calling it confusion would be more accurate

“……”

But Lee Danhui didn’t have anything to say in response.

His lips were firmly closed, yet even so, his dazed gaze betrayed his confusion as he turned his head.

The sight of the restaurant, old and worn from use but carefully maintained, filled his eyes. Along with it were the simple yet neatly prepared dishes set before them.

‘No, not simple.’

The portions weren’t overly large, but each dish was so well-made that even the phrase “high quality” didn’t seem to do them justice.

— You’re our guests, so you should eat well.

Those casually spoken words weren’t just for show, and the food in front of them proved it.

In other words, right now, they were sitting together in Mount Hua’s dining hall, staring blankly at the food laid out before them. None of them could bring themselves to touch it first.

And really, wasn’t that natural? It wasn’t as if they could feel good about it. Actually, saying they didn’t feel good didn’t even begin to describe it.

The feelings the disciples of Diancang held toward Mount Hua could be called hostility at best. At worst, they bordered on hatred.

So when they followed Mount Hua here, what they carried wasn’t expectation. It was resolve. A determination to look closely at the enemy they would someday have to destroy with their own hands.

Which meant, in reverse…

“So right now, we’re being served a feast in the house of the enemy we’re supposed to destroy?”

“....It’s not their house, it’s their dining hall.”

“What’s the difference?”

“…..”

There wasn’t a good answer to that.

“They don’t seem to have any ill intent, though.”

“Of course not. It’s not like they’d poison the food.”

“Then maybe we should just eat—”

Before the words were even finished, dozens of sharp gazes shot toward the speaker. The disciple who had spoken quickly lowered his head in panic.

“Is that something you should be saying while sitting before food offered by our enemy?”

“S-sorry, Sahyung.”

“This is their way of mocking us. Don’t fall for their tricks.”

The senior disciple’s voice was stern and clear, strong enough to steady anyone’s shaken resolve.

The only problem was that the one person unmoved by those words happened to be Lee Danhui.

‘If that were the case, they’d have stayed to watch.’

They’d have laughed at the sight of Diancang disciples struggling to resist the smell of good food.

But right now, there wasn’t a single disciple of Mount Hua in sight. Inside this restaurant, the only people present were the disciples of Diancang.

Which begged the question. Where were those Mount Hua disciples who could’ve mocked them with just a glance or a smile?

Creak.

Lee Danhui quietly rose from his seat, walked to the entrance, and threw the door open wide.

“……”

And there, he stared blankly at the bizarre scene before him.

“Hey! You missed a spot there!”

“What are you talking about? It’s so shiny even flies would slip on it!”

“Don’t make me laugh. Monk Hye Yeon’s head is shinier than that!”

“A-Amitabha?”

A gray cloud of dust billowed everywhere.

“Ugh, the dust!”

Mount Hua’s disciples were sweeping the floors with brooms and scrubbing the walls with rags, knocking away the layers of dirt clinging to the building. From within the great hall came constant clattering noises, as if a small war were taking place inside.

Lee Danhui smacked his lips with an exhausted look.

“Don’t those bastards ever get tired?”

Of course not. As much as he hated to admit it, everyone knew that during the war, no sect had fought harder than Mount Hua. And now that the war was over, they hadn’t even taken a proper rest before hurrying all the way to this remote Shaanxi island.

Even if they were all highly trained martial artists, their bodies had to be exhausted by now.

Yet strangely enough, there wasn’t a trace of irritation on their faces as they cleaned the dusty halls.

On the contrary, they looked almost cheerful, even whistling as they worked.

“Move faster! Who said you could straighten your back?”

“Ugh, seriously.”

“So fussy.”

“Petty man. Look at him taking revenge like that.”

“Shut up! Keep moving!”

……Of course, not everyone seemed to be enjoying the cleaning.

“Sasuk, Sasuk! The Diancang folks are eating right now!”

“Of course. They’ve traveled a long way, they must be starving.”

“But we’re hungry too.”

“Yes, I know. So what?”

“……”

Lee Danhui watched the lively Mount Hua disciples in silence, then glanced back over his shoulder.

Half of his sajes’ gazes were fixed on him, and the other half on the braised pork (still gently steaming with white heat) in front of them.

Having gone hungry for days while being held captive by the Evil Tyrant Alliance, it was only natural that the younger sajes’ eyes would light up at the sight of meat.

Seeing them sneaking glances his way, Lee Danhui sighed.

“Let’s eat first.”

“Eh? Sahyung! what do you mean?”

“What else? We’ve come all this way. Are you saying we shouldn’t eat the food they’ve served? You planning to start farming or something?”

“That’s…”

One of the saje looked at him with a sullen face. It was the same one who had lectured the group earlier. His expression said he understood, but didn’t want to accept it. Lee Danhui felt the same.

“Revenge or whatever, it still takes a full stomach to do it. Eat first.”

“……”

“Go on.”

“Then…”

One of them hesitated, then timidly reached out and picked up some food. That was all it took. The others followed suit, moving cautiously at first, then faster and faster, until soon the dishes began to vanish as if by magic.

“It’s… it’s delicious.”

“It’s a bit spicy though.”

“Ugh, I heard Shaanxi food uses a lot of vinegar, but this is too sour.”

“If you’re not going to eat it, give it to me!”

“Who said I wasn’t? Move over!”

Lee Danhui silently watched the scene, lost in thought.

‘Go back to Diancang, huh.’

The sight before him was proof enough of how empty that dream was. What good were land and buildings if there was nothing left inside?

Even if they proudly returned to Yunnan, what would be waiting for them there? Dust-covered halls and empty storerooms, stripped bare by the Evil Tyrant Alliance.

Feeding and sheltering these people alone would be difficult. That was the current reality of Diancang.

‘Beggar’s life… no, beggars might have it better than us.’

Considering that Beggars’ Union, despite appearances, is actually quite wealthy, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Diancang might now be the poorest sect under heaven.

And Lee Danhui was the man who had to lead that poorest sect in the world.

“Sahyung.”

“Hm?”

“Please, eat something. Why are you just sitting there?”

“……”

Lost in thought, Lee Danhui lifted his head. The disciples, who had been devouring their food like starving beasts, had all stopped to look at him.

A bitter smile rose on his lips.

“Right. Let’s eat. We’ll need the strength to do anything, anyway.”

He picked up his chopsticks and pushed a mouthful of stir-fried vegetables into his mouth.

‘I don’t know.’

He didn’t feel grateful for the fine food they were served. His heart had long since grown too desolate to be moved by gestures like that.

But… he did feel thankful for one thing. That Mount Hua had quietly left the room so they could eat without feeling self-conscious. If not for that, his sajes wouldn’t have been able to enjoy the meal at all, no matter how good it tasted.

‘Mount Hua, huh…’

His thoughts were just starting to deepen when—

“But, those Mount Hua guys…”

“Hm?”

“They seem kind of… different from what we imagined, don’t they?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, in a lot of ways.”

He probably couldn’t name one specific thing, but what he meant was clear enough: they were unlike any orthodox sect they’d ever known.

Lee Danhui didn’t agree or disagree. He just turned his gaze toward the door.

Through it, he could see Mount Hua’s disciples chatting noisily as they worked, full of life and laughter. His eyes grew a little heavier as he watched them.

❀ ❀ ❀

“Lululu~”

Swish, swish.

With a clean cotton cloth, Cheong Myeong wiped each ancestral tablet one by one, humming under his breath.

“There. That one looks good now.”

He grinned broadly at the tablet that had been freed from its layer of dust and now gleamed cleanly.

“No, I suppose. Should I clean it a little more?”

It was already spotless, but since this one bore the name of Cheong Mun, he felt he should put in extra care. After everything he’d gone through, he couldn’t help but recall again and again how much this man had suffered in life.

Since he hadn’t enjoyed any luxury while living, at least he should have some after death.

“Lululu~”

Cheong Myeong began wiping the tablet again, still humming happily.

No unorthodox sects, no damned orthodox bastards, only mountains full of beasts and wandering hermits. What a beautiful place this mountaintop was.

“This is how a person should live! Quiet and peaceful! Don’t you agree, Sahyung?”

“Most people don’t live like that.”

“Eh?”

Startled, Cheong Myeong turned toward the voice behind him. And then....

“Uwaaaah!”

Startled, Cheong Myeong jumped up from his seat in shock.

“....What the are you, a ghost or something?”

Before him stood something that looked less like a person and more like a stick. No, with how it swayed in the mountain breeze, “reed” might have been more accurate than “stick.”

But wait. He’d seen this reed(?) before, hadn’t he?

“S-Sangdanju-nim?”

“……”

He had changed a lot, but there was no mistaking it, It was Hwang Jong-ui, the master of the Eunha Merchant Guild.

“What happened to you? Are you sick or something?”

Tears welled up in Hwang Jong-ui’s sunken eyes, his body gaunt as a dried branch.

A person could lack a conscience, sure. But this was too much. And it was all because of this man in front of him.

“…I heard you’d returned, so I rushed here at once.”

“Ah, yes. I was going to stop by the guild first, but… well, this felt like the proper order.”

“Proper order, huh… I suppose so.”

Hwang Jong-ui nodded slowly. He was so thin that not only did he look weak when he moved, his joints even seemed to click.

“But… are you all right?”

“Isn’t that what I should be asking you?”

“No, I mean…”

“Yes? What is it?”

“That ancestral tablet.”

“Huh?”

Cheong Myeong tilted his head, then looked down at the tablet in his hands, and his eyes widened in horror.

“Wh-what is this?!”

Right down the middle of the freshly polished, shiny ancestral tablet was a long, ugly crack.

“Aaaaah! No! Sahyung’s ancestral tablet!”

Cheong Myeong clutched his head in despair at the sight of the broken memorial tablet of Cheong Mun.

“Argh! Sahyung, I’m sorry! I never broke you while you were alive! Ah wait, did I? No, that’s not the point right now! Aaaaah!”

As Cheong Myeong screamed and pulled at his hair, Hwang Jong-ui simply let out a weak sigh.

‘Guess it’s going to be noisy around here for a while again.’

Truly, this man was a headache whether he was here or not.

Next Chapter

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