Return of the Mount Hua Sect Chapter 1240: Who Did You Say Has Come? (5)

Crrrk.

A cup, filled to the absolute brim with liquor, sat before him.

A slurred voice reached Yu Gong’s ears as he gazed at the precarious cup.

“Not drinking?”

“......”

Yu Gong cast a sideways glance at Chung Myung, who was smirking. He then raised the cup in his hand towards his lips and drained its contents in a single, swift motion.

“Oh. You can hold your liquor? Good.”

A searing heat immediately scorched his throat. Yet, Yu Gong’s expression remained unfaltering as he finished every last drop.

Clack.

He then placed the now-empty vessel down.

“Come on, have another.”

Chung Myung let out a low chuckle as he refilled the cup. Yu Gong simply watched him, his gaze fixed on the pouring liquor.

There were countless questions swirling in his mind.

A multitude of things he longed to express.

However, he had long since become the kind of person who spoke not what he desired, but what necessity dictated.

Lifting the full cup with a degree of lightness, Yu Gong feigned a casual glance around before opening his mouth.

“I was rather surprised.”

“Hm?”

Chung Myung tilted his head slightly. Yu Gong offered a small, wry smile.

“You may not be aware, but we, the people of Southern Island, harbor no particular fondness for those from the mainland.”

“Hmm?”

“Naturally, this might sound peculiar to outsiders. After all, Southern Island stands as a preeminent Sect, rightfully positioned among the esteemed Nine Great Sects.”

“……”

“Yet, regardless of Southern Island’s formidable reputation, the enduring legacy of being treated as mere islanders, that historical perception… it doesn’t simply vanish.”

Chung Myung observed Yu Gong’s words in silence.

“Furthermore… when the Yangtze Non-Aggression treaty was established, those sentiments only intensified.”

Yu Gong let out a scoff that sounded like a laugh.

“Everyone likely kept their true feelings hidden, but in their hearts, they pondered: if we were mainlanders instead of islanders, if the Sect isolated by that treaty had been one of the other Nine Great Sects rather than Southern Island, would we have been treated with such disdain? But…”

Yu Gong subtly turned his head, his eyes falling upon the figures slumped in various states of inebriation.

“Those who held resentment towards the mainlanders ended up mingling with today’s guests, drinking excessively, and subsequently collapsing as you see.”

“……”

“Mount Hua, while possessing a distinct sect character, is recognized as a venerable Taoist lineage with a history potentially exceeding that of Wudang—perhaps that assessment wasn’t entirely inaccurate, considering the actions witnessed.”

Yu Gong’s gaze intensely studied Chung Myung, as if seeking a hidden truth.

“Or perhaps… it’s not that simple. If you wouldn’t mind my asking—are the Taoist arts of Mount Hua truly that profound? Or is it the legendary Sword Saint’s illusion techniques that hold the true marvel?”

Chung Myung let out a dismissive snort at the inquiry. Yu Gong attempted to mirror his smile, albeit with a hint of strain.

At least, until the subsequent words escaped Chung Myung's lips.

“Oi.”

“Yes?”

“Stop rambling and drink up. Three cups in total. You’ve already had one.”

“……”

“Drink.”

Yu Gong cleared his throat, then lifted the cup in his hand to his mouth once more.

And much like the previous one, he downed the entire contents in a single, powerful gulp.

“If I detect the slightest use of internal Qi, I’ll make you pay for every drop of liquor wasted, so just do as you’re told.”

“……”

“Now, one more.”

Chung Myung smirked, his hand already reaching to refill the emptied cup. Observing the rising liquor, Yu Gong’s face paled slightly.

He consciously forced himself to keep drinking, determined not to lose face, but Southern Island’s liquor was no weak sake meant for delicate sipping from small cups—it was a potent spirit designed for slow appreciation. The sheer strength of it, consumed repeatedly without the aid of internal Qi, presented a formidable challenge, even for someone with his martial prowess.

“Do you desire an answer?”

“...Yes?”

“Then drink. After you finish the third cup, I’ll address your questions.”

“……”

Upon hearing this, a subtle hardening appeared on Yu Gong’s countenance. He met Chung Myung’s gaze and began to raise the third cup.

“Oh. You certainly have a capacity for drink.”

Gulp! Gulp!

Enduring the fiery sensation, Yu Gong forced the liquor down his throat, snatching the cup away from his lips as if discarding it.

“Ugh!”

A sound, akin to a strangled cry, escaped his lips.

With every opening of his mouth, the potent aroma of the alcohol billowed forth, and his stomach felt as though it contained molten lava. His blood surged with unnatural speed, burning through his veins.

“Impressive.”

Chung Myung smirked, his own cup brimming. He promptly lifted it and downed its contents the moment it was full.

Crrrk!

Thud!

The cup—or rather, what more closely resembled a small bowl—landed on the floor with a distinct clatter.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, Chung Myung regarded Yu Gong, who was struggling to maintain his composure against the sudden wave of intoxication, and spoke.

“So.”

“Yes?”

“What was it you were so curious about again?”

“Well… uh…”

Yu Gong hesitated, a flush of embarrassment coloring his face. Chung Myung observed this with an amused grin.

“Of course, you wouldn’t remember. You likely just blurted out the first thing that came to mind because you weren’t truly invested in finding out.”

Yu Gong’s face grew hotter, whether from the intoxicating effects of the liquor or from the sheer mortification of his predicament.

“Still, I shall provide an answer. I didn’t actually do anything extraordinary.”

Chung Myung turned his gaze towards the sprawled figures, a faint smile playing on his lips.

“I merely requested the liquor and proceeded to drink. The rest, it seems, helped themselves and ended up in their current state.”

“……”

Yu Gong let out a sigh.

“While the disciples of Southern Island are indeed straightforward, perhaps even prideful of it at times, they wouldn’t be so foolish as to create such a spectacle before newly arrived guests. The Sword Saint of Mount Hua must have done something.”

“Yet this individual insists he did nothing, claiming he enjoys being deceived.”

“Yes. It’s possible.”

Yu Gong nodded slowly.

“But considering it further, that makes it even more remarkable. The very atmosphere around him shifted, even though he himself claims no involvement…”

“Hey.”

Yu Gong’s brow furrowed slightly as Chung Myung interrupted his train of thought.

“Your cup is empty. Another one?”

“...I would prefer not to…”

“Why? Is there something you might regret saying if you get drunk?”

“……”

“Drink.”

Chung Myung poured more liquor into Yu Gong’s cup.

Yu Gong glanced between Chung Myung and the cup, a look of unease on his face. As he refilled the cup, Chung Myung shrugged.

“Ah, don’t misunderstand. I detest forcing those who are unwilling to drink. Why waste good liquor on someone who refuses? I’m short on drink myself.”

“Then…”

“Your choice not to drink is valid. However, if you refuse to drink, please step aside. This is a drinking contest, not a discussion.”

“……”

“So, what will it be? The drinking contest, or a conversation?”

With a deep sigh, Yu Gong picked up the cup and, this time without haste, began to sip his drink slowly. A grin spread across Chung Myung’s face as he observed this.

“You can be reasonable after all.”

“Hah.”

Yu Gong set the cup down, his hand trembling slightly. His face was flushed, as if it might ignite.

“Now, now. I told you not to use your internal Qi. That’s just wasting good liquor.”

Chung Myung tutted, refilled his own cup, and began to down it.

Once the round of drinks had been consumed, Chung Myung resumed their conversation.

“Do you think I’m amazing?”

Chung Myung scoffed.

“You don’t grasp it. I truly did nothing.”

“...Then.”

“This scene didn’t unfold because I am great. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

“Yes?”

Chung Myung gestured with his chin towards the collapsed individuals.

“How do they appear to you?”

“...They look pitiful.”

This was an honest assessment. At the very least, it was not a sight fit to present to guests who had just arrived.

Even if he lacked the standing to criticize someone departing from Southern Island, couldn’t he at least pass a simple judgment?

“Really?”

Chung Myung snorted, refilled his cup, and offered a perspective that contradicted Yu Gong’s.

“To me, it looks quite impressive.”

“……”

Yu Gong fell silent, partly due to the alcohol, but also because Chung Myung’s words were difficult to comprehend.

“As you mentioned, even if they are young and simple, they wouldn’t be so careless as to get drunk and collapse before the first-time visitors to Southern Island.”

Yu Gong nodded, his eyes slightly unfocused.

“So why do you think that occurred? Was it because I skillfully nudged them?”

“……”

“No. I genuinely did nothing. Everyone was already at their breaking point. In a situation where anything could shatter them at any moment, they pushed themselves to the absolute limit and held on. Under the immense pressure that tomorrow might be their last day of life.”

Chung Myung’s eyes darkened as he gazed upon the figures passed out from drink.

Memories surfaced, overlapping with the sight of the fallen.

Those who, after returning from battle, sought solace in excessive drinking and collapsed into a sleep akin to fainting.

Others who drank convulsively, seeking to numb their consciousness, overwhelmed by guilt and relief at surviving when their comrades had fallen, and by the gnawing fear of returning to the battlefield the next day.

Yes, that was indeed a poignant sorrow.

Yet, those individuals could at least bear the full responsibility for their own actions. The ones here now are still far too young compared to those he knew in his past.

Therefore.

“Merely holding on for this long is an achievement in itself.”

“……”

“What ultimately breaks those who persevere isn’t some monumental force, but a minuscule sense of relief. Not the relief that they no longer need to hold on, but the fleeting comfort that perhaps tonight, or at least for a few hours, they might find a moment of safety.”

“……”

“That is all I offered them.”

Yu Gong opened his mouth as if to speak, then lowered his head. A sound escaped his silent, bowed posture.

“...It’s not that they held on.”

“Hm?”

“They simply had no other recourse. Nowhere in this world to turn.”

Chung Myung’s gaze drifted upwards towards the ceiling.

“...That’s right. That.”

He understood.

He understood it all too well.

“So leave them be. Sometimes, even when knowing it is wrong, a person simply desires to let go. They will wake up tomorrow filled with regret, but on occasion, that very release becomes the strength needed to endure the coming day.”

Yu Gong’s eyes settled on the sleeping face of Gwak Hwan-So. Recently, his expression had been stern, like carved stone, but for the first time in a while, it appeared slightly relaxed.

Perhaps Chung Myung’s words held truth.

What they truly needed, more than clear objectives or defined paths, might have simply been the allowance to fall asleep without a care for a single day.

But… they could achieve that – yet he himself…

“Drink.”

Chung Myung extended the cup before Yu Gong’s eyes.

“……”

As Yu Gong’s gaze fixed on the cup, Chung Myung spoke with an indifferent tone.

“Regardless of your current standing or your personal history.”

“……”

“Even if we end up as allies or enemies come tomorrow, you've endured to this point, just like the others.”

“……”

“I also have my own circumstances, so I won’t be able to express everything I wish to in the morning. Therefore, I’ll say it now.”

A subtle smile graced Chung Myung’s lips as he looked at Yu Gong, his voice softening slightly.

“You’ve held on admirably, kid.”

“……”

Yu Gong’s shoulders quivered almost imperceptibly.

The statement was incredibly presumptuous, undeniably arrogant.

Yet, for some reason, Yu Gong found no offense in it. In fact, rather than feeling slighted...

“Drink it. Then pass out. You can worry about the consequences starting tomorrow.”

Yu Gong gazed at Chung Myung, his eyes wide with a dazed expression.

“Aren’t you drinking?”

“……”

His hand trembled faintly as he reached for the cup. Gripping it with both hands, Yu Gong began to drink, his sips slow, agonizingly slow.

“Good.”

Chung Myung leisurely poured his own drink, then raised the cup to his lips, mirroring Yu Gong’s deliberate pace.

While the previous drinks were shared, this particular cup was solely for him.

‘All of them.’

The image of the Ten-Thousand Great Mountains passing by as if untouched by any event flashed through his mind.

‘Don’t berate them too harshly. I will journey there one day as well.’

The potent liquor coursed down his throat.

The resurfacing memories of the past were drowned in the depths by the liquor Chung Myung consumed. However...

The lingering aroma of the alcohol remained, swirling around Chung Myung.

Much like those days from long ago.