Return of the Mount Hua Sect (HTL 1634+)

❀ ❀ ❀

Cheong Myeong's gaze darkened.

If it weren't for the current situation, he might have welcomed this young man who suddenly appeared. He might have slung an arm around his shoulder and joked, 'Can you drink a cup of alcohol?' while laughing.

But not now.

Cheong Myeong didn't have the luxury to warmly greet an uninvited guest with open arms.

"Regrets? I don't know what nonsense you're spouting, but..."

Cheong Myeong's voice was sharp.

"I don't have time to play along with you right now."

His tone was cold enough to send chills down the listener's spine.

It was inappropriate way to treat someone who was the head of a martial sect and someone respected by the entire Western Region. It was enough to make anyone feel deeply insulted.

However, Dalai Lama simply shook his head silently.

"No, there's no shortage of time. At least..…"

In Dalai Lama's unwavering eyes, Cheong Myeong was reflected.

"..…not for you, siju." [tl note: in case you forgot, 'siju' is a Buddhist's way of respectfully addressing a non-Buddhist]

Cheong Myeong's eyes twitched slightly. The words themselves weren't particularly strange, but they still oddly grated on his nerves.

"Ha… damn it."

Cheong Myeong sighed heavily and tilted his head back slightly.

"This is a battlefield, you brat. This isn't a place where your lofty Buddhist principles (dharma) will get you anywhere. I don't know what you want, but I don't have time to sit around discussing Zen…"

"Ahem."

At that moment, a soft cough interrupted him. Cheong Myeong's gaze shifted slowly. It wasn't Dalai Lama, but another Lama monk.

An elderly man with graying eyebrows and a peaceful expression was smiling warmly.

"It's been a while, dojang. I hope you've been well."

"….. Panchen Lama."

"If we've inconvenienced you with our sudden visit, I apologize on his behalf."

Panchen Lama clasped his hands together deeply in a respectful gesture.

Cheong Myeong sighed shortly and then returned the gesture with a small bow.

Unlike Dalai Lama, who felt hollow and therefore uninteresting to him, Panchen Lama was someone even Cheong Myeong had no choice but to respect.

Panchen Lama spoke in a measured tone, his gaze steady.

"But, dojang, we haven't come all the way from the Western Region without reason."

"….."

"There is something that this young monk wishes to convey to you. Regardless of status or position, could you not take a moment to acknowledge the effort of a guest who has traveled such a great distance? It will only take a little of your time."

For a moment, Cheong Myeong's gaze shifted to Dalai Lama... more precisely, to his feet. Even at a glance, they were bruised, cracked, and in terrible condition. Without asking, it was clear how arduous the journey had been to get here.

The contrast between his feet, battered beyond what an ordinary person could endure, and his unwavering, calm eyes was striking.

Even the great Cheong Myeong found it hard to ignore at this point.

"….. I don't understand."

In the end, he sighed deeply and replied.

"Please know that this is not a situation where I can treat you properly."

"Of course."

Cheong Myeong stared directly at Dalai Lama.

"Then, let's hear it. What exactly do you want to say?"

❀ ❀ ❀

"Why is there so much commotion?"

Given the circumstances, it wasn't unusual for the alliance to be bustling, but something seemed different now.

Rather than just being busy, it seemed more like everyone was noticeably flustered.

"Tch, those damn Evil Tyrant Alliance bastards would love to see this chaos. No matter what's going on, we need to stay calm... Wha-, what? Tang gaju-nim?"

Jo Geol, who had been clicking his tongue in disapproval while grumbling, suddenly gaped.

Among the people frantically running around like they'd been struck by lightning, he saw a familiar face.

'That man wouldn't even make a fuss if a lightning bolt struck him directly.'

So why now?

"What's going on?"

"Dalai Lama has arrived."

"Who?"

"Dalai Lama."

"And who's that?"

Yoon Jong rubbed his face in frustration. Then, gritting his teeth, he forced himself to answer calmly.

"That...! The prince of Potala Palace in the Western Region. Remember, we saw him on our way back from Northern Sea?"

"Oh, that kid? Why is he here?"

Yoon Jong seriously considered whether he should just sew Jo Geol's mouth shut right now. At that moment, Jo Geol clapped his hands together.

"Ah! That's right. Sahyung, back then he was introduced as the prince of Potala Palace."

"…. I literally just said that. Right now."

"Please, listen to what people are saying. I'm talking right in front of you..."

"Oh? Then...?"

"Hm?"

"Is Potala Palace joining the Heavenly Comrade Alliance?"

Yoon Jong was taken aback.

"No, why would you jump to that conclusion…"

"Then why else would they come all the way here in the middle of a war? It looks like they're not bad people, maybe they're here to help us take down the evil sect?"

Jo Geol let out an exaggerated gasp.

"Potala Palace is one of the Five Outer Palaces, right? We could use any help we can get, so this is a stroke of luck! See? This is why you should always live a good life."

"Only two of them came."

"….. Well, I guess a cat's paw is needed" [tl note: Jo Geol said something like 'we do need any help we can get, but it was so few, till he called it like a cat's paw]

I didn't think they'd be literal 'cat's paws'. Jo Geol clicked his tongue in frustration.

'So they're not here to support us.'

If they were two highly renowned martial artists, it might be a different story. But even then, if they had come to assist the Heavenly Comrade Alliance, they wouldn't have shown up with just two people.

And especially if one of them was Dalai Lama, Potala Palace wouldn't be crazy enough to send a mere child to a bloody battlefield.

Unless there was some kind of coup brewing within Potala Palace, the idea was absurd.

"Then why are they here?"

"How should I know? That's what everyone's trying to figure out."

"Ah..…"

Jo Geol finally nodded as if he understood.

It was enough to rattle even Tang Gunak, a man of great renown, that the head of the Outer Five Palaces had suddenly appeared without any explanation.

Hwang Jong-ui in Shaanxi, would probably foam at the mouth, lamenting, 'I sent a letter!' But it was unfortunate that his letter hadn't reached its destination due to the confusion caused by the attack of the Thousand Faced Manipulator. [tl note: In case you forgot, Hwang Jong is the leader of the Eunha Merchant Guild.]

"So, where is Dalai Lama now?"

"He's with Cheong Myeong."

"What? Why?"

"…. I told you, I don't know."

Jo Geol scratched his head in frustration.

"No, but shouldn't the priority be to meet the leader?"

Of course, it wasn't completely odd that Cheong Myeong, who held the position of the overall commander (chongsa) of the Heavenly Comrade Alliance, was with the Dalai Lama. However, something still felt off.

".... Could he have come just to meet Cheong Myeong?"

"Do you think he'd travel all the way from the west just to see him?"

"Right?"

Even if Jo-geol thought about it, it didn't make sense.

"Ugh. Then what is it?"

"That might be the reason."

Suddenly, Tang Soso, standing nearby, interjected into the conversation.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"He might have come to meet Cheong Myeong sahyung."

".... Why?"

"Well...."

Tang Soso trailed off, a look of concern clouding her face.

Not long ago, she had seen it. A young monk, an elderly monk, and Cheong Myeong—just the three of them—entering a small tent off to the side.

'It didn't seem like a simple courtesy visit….'

The look on Cheong Myeong's face had been dark and heavy.

'I hope it's nothing serious.'

Without saying a word, she glanced over at the distant small tent, which suddenly felt like a remote, isolated island.

❀ ❀ ❀

"Sorry, but there's only alcohol here. I can get you tea if you'd like."

"....."

"But I don't know anything about tea, so you'd have to brew it yourself."

Panchen Lama, staring at the bottle of alcohol lying in front of him without any glasses, looked around the inside of the tent.

The small tent barely had enough space for three people to sit. There was nothing inside except for a single bedding mat carelessly thrown on the floor.

Other than that, the only visible items were a few scattered bottles of alcohol, some of them still half-full.

Cheong Myeong leaned back against the corner of the barren tent. Then, he switched on a lamp that had probably not been used in a long time. A brief puff of black smoke emitted before a light illuminated the space, casting Cheong Myeong's body in long, dark shadows.

Panchen Lama felt a peculiar sense of oddness.

Despite the bleak and shabby appearance, it somehow suited him. It even made Panchen Lama wonder if this was Cheong Myeong's true nature.

A tired sword master, leaning against the corner of an old, worn-out tent, with a sword slung over his shoulder.

Was it the tent that had worn out, or was it the man himself?

'Yes…'

Panchen Lama clearly remembered Cheong Myeong from a few years back.

Back then, he seemed to have a sparkling vitality flowing out of him. He was full of energy and knew how to fuel himself with passion for something.

But the person sitting before him now seemed so faded that Panchen Lama questioned whether this was even the same person.

He had thought Cheong Myeong was walking a difficult path, but he had never imagined that such a drastic change would occur in such a short amount of time.

Cheong Myeong broke Panchen Lama's train of thought as he spoke up.

"Well…. if you don't need tea, let's get to the point."

"....."

"You said you had something to say. Go ahead."

Dalai Lama, who had been silently observing Cheong Myeong, remained quiet for a little longer. Then, with a small rustle of his robes, he moved.

Thud.

He grabbed the bottle of alcohol that Cheong Myeong had placed down and slowly brought it to his lips. Cheong Myeong, looking slightly surprised, gave a small chuckle.

"Drinking alcohol… Looks like even Potala Palace has fallen."

Dalai Lama, having taken a small sip of the alcohol, smiled faintly.

"It's true that alcohol is forbidden for a disciple of Buddha. But…"

Dalai Lama gazed steadily at Cheong Myeong.

"It's arrogant for a beggar to complain about what's given to him with mercy."

"....."

"That's why I drink it. Whatever it may be. That's why I eat it. No matter what it is."

Takbal (托鉢)[mendicancy, monk's begging for alms]. That was their doctrine. Cheong Myeong chuckled again.

"That's a good excuse. You can break any taboo under the pretext of getting something."

"Don't you agree?"

"Huh?"

"To forbid [금(禁)] something is to reject it. To persuade [권(勸)] is to desire it. And yet, that's what we do. No one can reject everything, nor can they obtain everything they want. Living means breaking taboos and desiring what you can't reach. That's why we live, swallowing sins in the sea of suffering."

Cheong Myeong squinted his eyes in displeasure and clicked his tongue.

"Spare me the sermon. No one here wants to hear it."

"This isn't a sermon."

Dalai Lama's gaze remained the same, as if it held nothing and everything at once. Looking into his eyes gave one the strange sensation of thirst.

"I just want to talk about life. And about you."

"About me?"

"Yes, siju. You."

Dalai Lama's youthful voice quietly but clearly pierced Cheong Myeong's ears.

"What is your life like?"

"..."

A gaze as deep as a lake met a gaze as fiery as a wildfire in midair.

"You think I've broken taboos and desired what I can't have?"

"That's how everyone lives."

"Then I'm not particularly special, am I? Since everyone else lives like that, I must be the same."

"Siju's words are correct. You are no different. Yet, you are different."

"Ah, really.... what are you saying...."

"You can't help but be different, can you?"

Dalai Lama said calmly.

"Between those who live only one life, and those who don't."

Cheong Myeong, who had been showing clear signs of annoyance, suddenly flinched. His eyes then opened wide in shock.

Tl note:

Takbal [탁발(托鉢, mendicancy)] is one of the Buddhist practice rituals. It is an act of a monk begging for food from others. Compared to almsgiving, it is the opposite. Almsgiving refers to the act itself in which believers voluntarily donate food or goods to monks, or to the person who does such an act, while begging (탁발) refers to the behavior of monks to receive this alms.