Chapter 1918 - Return of The Mount Hua Sect

Chapter 1918. I Wish This Could Last (8) ❀ ❀ ❀

A great full moon hung over the peak of lofty Mount Hua. Its gentle light poured down as if stroking the sheer cliffs.

In that stillness, a lone figure stumbled up the steep slope where a faint, chill energy drifted.

“Urgh. Guess you really ought to die once you get old. How much did I even drink…?”

He had drunk a lot.

Didn’t he accept every drink the Huayin folks offered without refusing a single one, gulping them all down? He drank with them until everyone in the inn had drained their cups dry, so he must have downed several mal’s worth at least.

[Tl note. mal = an old Korean unit of volume, 1 mal around 18 liters lmaooo, so....]

Yawning wide, Cheong Myeong stepped on the cliff ledge and vaulted upward.

His swaying upper body overlapped with the moon floating in the sky. Had someone been watching from below, rumors might’ve spread that a drunken immortal lived on Mount Hua.

Reaching the mountain in an instant, Cheong Myeong headed straight toward a certain place.

Crossing the vast training grounds, taking in the sight of Mount Hua spread out in all directions, he finally stopped at one spot.

“…Hmm.”

Standing there with an awkward expression, he scratched his chin.

It should have been overgrown with weeds after being left alone for so long, but the mound before him looked freshly tended, as if someone had cared for it just yesterday.

Apparently, someone from Mount Hua had already visited.

“Lucky bastard, huh?”

Cheong Myeong muttered in a mock-grumbling tone, then let out a faint laugh and plopped down. Thinking about it, Cheong Jin deserved to be treated this way.

“Tsk.”

Even knowing that, Cheong Myeong clicked his tongue as if something still displeased him. Then he fished a bottle of liquor out of his robe.

“Here, have a drink. Hngh? Not in the mood to drink? Doesn’t matter. I want to drink. Stop nagging and drink.”

He poured the alcohol over Cheong Jin’s grave. But the bottle was soon tipped upright again.

“Just a taste. Like you always did. No… like you used to.”

Cheong Jin had never been fond of alcohol.

Cheong Mun didn’t particularly mind drinking, but Cheong Jin absolutely hated liquor. He couldn’t understand why people enjoyed drinking poison that only ruined their bodies.

Naturally, Cheong Myeong had responded by shoving the bottle into Cheong Jin’s mouth anyway.

Cheong Myeong put the bottle to his own lips and tipped his head back. Thick, burning liquor filled his mouth and released a deep scent.

“Keuuh.”

Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he leaned his back against the mound, half reclining, staring blankly at the moon above.

“It’s the moon.”

He chuckled faintly.

“Hey, do you remember? Back then, you, me, and Sahyung… the three of us snuck out before dawn to drink at that inn. That stubborn old man, of all days, said he’d come along.”

Thinking about it now, he probably wasn’t craving alcohol. He was most likely tagging along to keep Cheong Myeong from causing trouble. But who cares? What mattered was that they’d drunk together.

“That day, you—who can’t even handle alcohol—kept drinking cup after cup and got completely wasted. Sahyung drank too much and took his shirt off, singing at the top of his lungs, and I dragged both of you back up the mountain. Right?”

If Cheong Jin were here, he’d definitely snarl, ‘Get your story straight. It was us who scraped Sahyung off the ground where he’d passed out and puked, washed him by the well, and then carried him back..’

“Then, of all people, we got caught by the Sect Leader and got absolutely chewed out.”

Laughing, Cheong Myeong took another swig. Then he just stared quietly at the full moon floating in the night sky.

“Cheong Jin-ah.”

No answer.

“To be honest… I don’t really know what this feeling is.”

It was only a monologue. Words that would never reach anyone could only ever be a monologue.

“I know everything changes. I know things should change. But… funny, isn’t it? Watching things change doesn’t always feel good.”

He snorted.

“You, me, and Sahyung… that inn where we drank together, even those grimy little chairs…”

His voice trailed off for a moment, and then he leaned his head back.

“They’re old. Yeah… change is right.”

He closed his eyes.

If he had to name this feeling, it would be ‘regret’. Not regret that Mount Hua was changing, but regret that the traces of those who remained in his memory were fading away.

— Why bother thinking about useless things? That’s just how life is.

That’s exactly what Cheong Jin would’ve said. He would’ve accepted being forgotten without a second thought. But…

“The ones left behind don’t get to do that.”

One who should have been forgotten but wasn’t could only watch helplessly as things slipped away.

Maybe what Cheong Myeong truly fears isn’t that their traces will disappear… but that his memories of them will blur and vanish along with those traces.

“What would you know, you idiot.”

Cheong Myeong opened his eyes again and lifted his head. At the very least, the moon above was the same as that night. A full moon just as big…

Hm? Something dark was blocking the moon…

“WAAAAH!”

“What are you doing out here?”

“Ah, for f—’s sake! You scared the life out of me!”

“How much did you drink that you didn’t even notice someone approaching?”

Baek Cheon clicked his tongue as he stepped out of the moonlight.

“What the hell, suddenly?”

“What do you mean suddenly? It’s only natural to go looking for someone who hasn’t come back even by dawn.”

Baek Cheon muttered, ‘If it were you, it’d make even more sense. Who knows what kind of trouble you’d get into.’

Cheong Myeong stared at him, dumbfounded.

“Hmm.”

“…What now?”

Baek Cheon looked him up and down, then fixed his gaze on the bottle.

“Oh. Hand that over.”

“…Huh?”

Baek Cheon casually snatched the bottle and plopped down right beside him.

“Mmm. Nice aroma.”

“…Didn’t you say you came to drag back a disciple who didn’t return?”

“I dragged you back, didn’t I?”

“……”

“If you were outside the gates, sure, I’d have to haul you. But why bother when you’re already inside the sect?”

Smirking, Baek Cheon gulped down the liquor like it had always belonged to him.

“Ahh. Good.”

“No, seriously…”

“Got more? Like hell you only brought one bottle. Hand over the rest.”

“You’re basically a ghost, you know that?”

“I’ve lived with you for how many years now?”

With a tired expression, Cheong Myeong shook his head and pulled out the rest of the bottles. Baek Cheon counted them and scratched his cheek.

“Might not be enough.”

“Not enough? This is Hwaju.”

“For two people, it’d be more than plenty. But it’s not just the two of us.”

“Huh?”

As if in response to Cheong Myeong’s confusion, a loud murmur approached.

“Ungh. He was really here.”

“See? I told you it’d be better to wait up top. What is this! We ended up climbing the mountain for nothing in the middle of the night!”

“For the love of—shut that beak. How do you talk more and more like a sparrow the older you get?”

“It’s because I’ve gotten older! The more years I live, the more crap I get put through, so of course I have more to say!”

Bickering the whole way, Yoon Jong and Jo Geol plopped down on either side of Baek Cheon and Cheong Myeong, and even had the nerve to grab the bottles laid out in front of them as if they’d witnessed everything from the start.

“…Huh?”

Cheong Myeong tilted his head.

“Ahhh. Nice and refreshing.”

“I prefer it a bit warmer.”

“Then give it here.”

“Take your hands off, unless you want your wrist chopped.”

“Is that something you can say to a saje who’s been suffering thanks to his sahyung?”

“Suffering, huh…? Well…”

Yoon Jong laughed and pointed forward.

“Better you than that, don’t you think?”

From the direction he pointed, Yoo Iseol and Tang Soso were walking toward them.

“See, Sago! What training? As if that guy would ever stay out this long just because he’s training!”

“……”

“And if he’s training, why’s he always climbing only the highest peaks?”

“…He used to.”

“Used to? When exactly was this ‘used to’?”

“Mmm… about… five years ago?”

“Sago… please…”

Tang Soso covered her face. Yoo Iseol, looking embarrassed, pretended to look away before glaring sharply at Cheong Myeong.

“You need a beating.”

“……”

Baek Cheon laughed, picked up the remaining bottles, and tossed one each to the two women.

“Here. Take one.”

Naturally catching them, they sat down by the grave.

“Aigoo, my legs. This used to be nothing back then.”

“Why’re you talking like an old man? You’re not Cheong Myeong.”

“You try reaching my age, Sahyung!”

“…I’m sorry.”

Yoon Jong shut his mouth instantly. He outranked Tang Soso, of course, but when it came to age, he had nothing to say.

Baek Cheon stared at the one remaining bottle and murmured,

“Well, looks like we still have some left.”

“Amitabha.”

Before he even finished speaking, a familiar voice chimed in.

“While meditating late at night, I caught a pleasant scent and followed it here.”

“Yep. A ghost. Definitely a ghost.”

“That guy is not a monk. There is no way he is one, not morally, not spiritually.”

Hye Yeon appeared out of nowhere, and everyone stared at him in disbelief. At this point, it was reasonable to suspect that the real reason he never returned to Shaolin was simply because they forbidden alcohol there.

“Amitabha. Wasting food is a sin, and a Buddhist must prevent sin. Therefore, I have no choice but to consume it all myself.”

“…Sasuk. Is that really what the Buddhist path teaches?”

“Don’t go saying things like that anywhere else. People will throw rocks at you.”

No matter the murmurs around him, Hye Yeon quickly secured his share of the liquor and sat down. Then, looking oddly disappointed, he turned to Cheong Myeong.

“Siju, is this all? You didn’t bring any more?”

“Cut it out, you degenerate monk!”

“Did you leave your conscience back in Hubei?”

“I’m telling Shaolin about this!”

“A-Amitabha…”

Insults rained down on him. Sulking, Hye Yeon popped open the bottle.

“Mmm. Fine liquor.”

“…Aren’t monks not supposed to know that?”

“To be honest, I agree with everything sijus say. However…”

“However?”

“I’d rather not hear such words from the people of Mount Hua. If you all can call yourselves Taoists, why can’t I call myself a Buddhist?”

“What’s wrong with us?”

“We’re perfectly respectable Taoists!”

“…Amitabha.”

Hye Yeon stared off toward a distant peak. His silence said enough.

Watching all this, Cheong Myeong let out a baffled laugh.

“No, seriously… Is me coming back a little late really such a big deal that all of you had to come searching for me?”

“…An extremely grave matter.”

“On the same level as when the Evil Tyrant Alliance stirs.”

“Emotionally speaking, this is scarier. Honestly.”

Cheong Myeong stared, speechless, jaw dropped. But before he could argue, Baek Cheon pushed a bottle toward him.

“Anyway, leaving good liquor untouched is a sin. Drink. We can talk more after we drink.”

The others all held out their bottles.

“What are you doing?”

Everyone turned to look at the dazed Cheong Myeong. He glanced around at them, bewildered, then hesitantly held his bottle out.

Seven bottles met in the air with a soft clink.

Above them, the full moon shone unusually bright and warm that night.

Next Chapter

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