Return of the Mount Hua Sect Chapter 1241: Is That Really All? (1)
Previously on Return of the Mount Hua Sect...
“Ugh… my stomach…”
Jo Gul let out a low groan, his face contorted in discomfort. The previous night’s revelry had clearly taken its toll; his stomach churned violently.
“Those Southern Island folks really do drink like uncivilized barbarians.”
“…They’re likely thinking the exact same about us across the way.”
“Still, I can’t recall us ever getting *this* drunk before—except for that one unfortunate incident with the Beast Palace Lord…”
“Let’s just agree to not count that particular individual among the living for the moment.”
The sentiment echoed Chung Myung, who had engaged in a fierce, alcohol-fueled bout with the Beast Palace Lord.
“Ugh.”
Jo Gul moaned again, fumbling to unfasten his bundle. He carefully retrieved Mount Hua’s ceremonial robe, the one he had protected so diligently throughout their journey, as if fearing even the slightest damage.
“But why are they calling for a meeting this early in the morning?”
“It’s not early; it’s actually quite late.”
“Huh?”
Yoon Jong replied with a grimace.
“Merely granting us a single night’s rest demonstrates the Sect Leader’s considerable restraint. Could you have truly remained silent and patient if uninvited guests had infiltrated our midst?”
“…No, I suppose I wouldn’t have been able to.”
“Precisely.”
Yoon Jong shook his head, continuing.
“Observing the state of those who indulged, it’s apparent they felt a far greater pressure than we anticipated. Considering that, they were gracious enough to grant us respite after our arduous journey—be grateful. Refrain from voicing idle complaints.”
“Ah, Sahyung. Do you truly believe I’m the sort to complain about such a thing? I’m not complaining—I’m merely concerned that the effects of my drinking haven’t completely dissipated, and I might present myself in an unbecoming manner for no good reason.”
“…I must admit, I share that concern.”
Yoon Jong managed a weak, wry smile. The truth was, he had only the vaguest recollection of how they had even reached their lodgings. Come to think of it, they hadn’t even known for certain that these were their designated quarters, so their presence here wasn’t exactly by choice.
It was undeniably a scene of disarray, hardly the dignified deportment expected of guests visiting the Southern Island for a crucial negotiation.
Yet, neither Yoon Jong nor Jo Gul felt any significant remorse.
“What on earth was that guy thinking, drinking himself into such a stupor?”
“What could we possibly know? We simply follow the prevailing mood and adapt as necessary.”
“Ha…”
Yoon Jong sighed and shook his head.
They say even a village dog can recite poetry after three years of exposure—after enduring Chung Myung’s company for over three years, logic and justification become secondary concerns. One simply assumes there must be an underlying reason and proceeds, instinctively falling into step.
“We’re going to be late. Hurry up.”
“W-wait. Just my trousers…”
“…Put them on quickly.”
“I’m fully dressed, I’m finished!”
Yoon Jong let out another breath and opened the door. The moment he stepped into the hallway, individuals were already emerging from surrounding rooms.
“Did you rest well last night, Young Lord Namgung?”
“Taoist Yoon Jong also rested… … well… …”
Yoon Jong glanced sideways at Namgung Do-Wei.
The man, whose features had once appeared so sharp and handsome even to other men, now looked alarmingly gaunt, reminiscent of a convalescent.
“…You don’t appear to be in good health…”
“What kind of accursed drinking was that… no, what kind of person…?”
“Then why not moderate your intake to a sensible level?”
“…Wouldn’t that feel akin to admitting defeat?”
“…”
Yoon Jong squeezed his eyes shut. It seemed this individual was also beginning to lose his grip on reality.
“I feel like I’m dying.”
“Watch yourself. Walk in a straight line, will you?”
“I am walking straight.”
“Watch it! Not that way, this way. For goodness sake! I even gave you a sobering draught!”
Tang Soso. Why in the heavens did she bring a sobering medicine all the way to the Southern Island?
Every person who had emerged looked uniformly unwell. After all, they had pushed their bodies to the limit with forced marches, only to then consume more alcohol than they could possibly handle until they collapsed. It would be more astonishing if they appeared fine.
“Hold on. What about the Green Forest King?”
“…He hasn’t stirred. I believe it would be prudent to transport him to the infirmary rather than the meeting hall.”
“…Is his condition truly that severe? We should at least ascertain his state…”
“Ah.”
As Yoon Jong made to enter Im So-Byeong’s room, Namgung Do-Wei intercepted him.
“I would advise against entering. It will completely destroy your appetite.”
“…”
“For the time being, we must avoid offending anyone—once the meeting concludes, we will undoubtedly have to deal with laundering those soiled bedding sets.”
“…”
Yoon Jong rubbed his face with a sigh of pure exasperation.
‘At this rate…’
Can we even conduct a proper meeting under these circumstances?
“Then what about the Sasuk?”
“Uh, indeed? He wouldn’t normally be tardy…”
It was at that precise moment.
Bang.
One of the doors burst open, and Baek Cheon emerged with a deliberate, unhurried pace.
Swish.
With each measured step, his pristine white robe flowed elegantly, reminiscent of a cresting wave.
The immaculate white robe, his impeccably neat hair swept back, and the white headband encircling his brow complemented his pale complexion as if meticulously painted.
While others looked on the verge of collapse, Baek Cheon’s appearance remained as immaculate as ever—no, it was several degrees neater than his usual standard.
Step.
Baek Cheon proceeded down the corridor with light footfalls, his sharp gaze sweeping over everyone present before he finally spoke.
“Is everyone accounted for?”
The disciples of Mount Hua began murmuring amongst themselves.
“…At that level, isn't it practically an ailment?”
“You must admit it's a sickness at this point…” “For one to be the Sect leader of Mount Hua, one has to be that kind of person.” “…I suppose that’s true.” Mount Hua’s disciples gave their automatic assent, while the leaders of other sects grimaced at the scene. “Is that even considered human…?” Namgung Do-Wei, in particular, was on the verge of grinding his teeth. Baek Cheon had certainly drunk more than he had yesterday—how could he still appear so composed? This couldn't be attributed solely to superior martial prowess. “You are guests and envoys meeting the leader of another sect. Therefore, none of you should be careless in your bearing…” Baek Cheon’s words trailed off, his frown appearing mid-sentence. His displeased expression elicited a solemn response. “...We apologize, Sasuk.” “Sorry for not being handsome.” “We apologize.” “We genuinely did our best.” “Tch.” Baek Cheon clicked his tongue, looking at his disciples' disheveled appearances with evident displeasure. Though they felt wronged internally, Baek Cheon’s expression silenced any potential complaints. “What about Chung Myung?” “Who knows? I haven’t seen him. There’s no way he’s not gotten up after being drunk.” “Not in his quarters?” “I didn’t see him there.” “Then where…” Baek Cheon nodded, as if he had a premonition. “Alright. Let’s proceed.” “And Chung Myung?” “He’ll show up when he feels like it.” Baek Cheon cast a glance at those before him and spoke. “Let me reiterate: each of you present represents the entirety of the Heavenly Friends Alliance.” “…” “Think twice before you speak, and always remember how you will be perceived by others.” “…Are you addressing all of us?” “Let’s go.” “Sasuk? But… why are you only looking at me when you speak… Sasuk?” Baek Cheon paid no mind to Jo Gul’s protest and began walking down the corridor. Once out of sight, a quiet sigh escaped him—a hint of the tension he felt. This marked his first official duty as the acting Sect leader of Mount Hua. Regardless of the outcome, he had to present himself as the head of Mount Hua and an envoy of the Heavenly Friends Alliance. With a stern expression, he descended the stairs to the lower floor. And then… “Heh heh heh. Just look at this guy’s complexion!” “…Ah, just leave.” “Exactly, someone who can't handle their liquor shouldn't act so tough…” “Can’t drink? My nickname is the Southern Sea Drinking Whale!” “It seems the whales in this town are no bigger than minnows, eh?” “No, but for real!” “Oh my. If I’d challenged him and been defeated, I would’ve bitten my tongue and died. Yet, he walks out with his head held high.” “Lose? It was a draw, a draw!” “If the one waiting drew with the one who journeyed from afar, then effectively, he lost.” “Ughhh.” Gwak Hwan-So’s darkened face flushed with indignation. Chung Myung, who had been joyfully provoking him, turned his gaze toward the stairs upon hearing movement—and a grin spread across his face as he saw Baek Cheon descending. “And look. Our Acting Sect leader appears perfectly fine, unlike that one who’s practically half-dead.” “…He really does.” “Wow. That guy drank more than me yesterday.” “Great Sahyung. Let’s admit it. We lost this one.” “…Our Great Sahyung should also look like that.” “Who was that last person? What kind of scoundrel was he?” Watching Chung Myung wholeheartedly side with the Southern Island disciples to tease Gwak Hwan-So, Baek Cheon shook his head. ‘He’s truly beyond help.’ Under normal circumstances, the atmosphere here should have been somber. It was the day that would determine Southern Island’s future and the Heavenly Friends Alliance’s future, and the disciples present were aware of this. However, the previous night’s revelry and Chung Myung’s initial jokes had significantly lightened the mood. The tension on Baek Cheon’s shoulders eased somewhat. He parted his lips as if to speak, then let out a soft chuckle. “Chung Myung.” “Yes?” “…Come here, it’s… it’s embarrassing.” “What, did I say something wrong?” “…Please, just be quiet.” “That is so unfair to me!” At Baek Cheon’s signal, Yoon Jong and Jo Gul swiftly moved, grabbed Chung Myung’s arms, and escorted him toward the rear. “No! I didn’t say anything wrong! That bastard started the trouble first! Why me alone! Ugh! Ugh ugh!” Tang Soso deftly stuffed cloth into Chung Myung’s mouth and secured it, while Baek Cheon sighed deeply before bowing to Gwak Hwan-so. “My apologies. Um… as you are well aware… he has always been like this…” “…You must have endured a lot.” “It would take more than three days to explain it all in words.” Baek Cheon paused, giving Gwak Hwan-So a curious look before continuing. “By the way, you don’t appear too well?” “…I have a naturally dark complexion.” “It doesn’t seem like that… could it be a hangover?” “I told you, I’m naturally dark. People from the Southern Island are darkened by the sun!” “Ah, that’s a relief. I was worried you might have harmed your health from merely that amount of drinking. So it won’t be an issue, right?” “…May you drop dead on the way back.” “Pardon?” “No, it’s nothing.” Baek Cheon offered a faint smile; Gwak Hwan-So chuckled, then straightened up, returning the bow.“I am Gwak Hwan-So, the senior disciple of Southern Island. The Sect Leader desires an audience with you, so kindly accompany me. I shall serve as your guide.”
“We appreciate the gesture.”
Gwak Hwan-So, his earlier playfulness gone, turned around. The disciples of Southern Island who had been waiting then positioned themselves on either side of the Heavenly Friends Alliance members, exuding an aura of seasoned warriors as they formed a protective escort.
“Please pardon the state of our path; the typhoon’s fury has not yet completely subsided.”
“A true warrior does not shy away from the tempest. There is no need for concern.”
Delighted by this response, Gwak Hwan-So offered a smile.
“You may open them.”
“Understood!”
The grand entrance doors swung wide open.
Baek Cheon’s gaze sharpened slightly. Despite the continuing storm, the disciples of Southern Island maintained their disciplined formation along the walkway, unmoved by the lashing rain and howling winds.
“...It was not necessary for you to go to such lengths...”
“Do not speak further on the matter.”
Gwak Hwan-So’s voice became stern.
“We are not requesting your favorable judgment. Nor are we attempting to flaunt our might or issue a threat.”
“...”
“Regardless of how our forthcoming discussion with the Sect Leader unfolds, its outcome is secondary. Our sole intention is to extend the basic courtesy due to those who braved the perilous journey to Southern Island when all others turned away.”
Baek Cheon’s expression grew solemn.
“Then, by all means, please lead the way.”
Gwak Hwan-So moved forward, disappearing into the wind and rain. Baek Cheon inclined his head and followed in his wake.
The disciples of Southern Island, their garments heavy with moisture from their prolonged vigil, drew their swords simultaneously and offered a silent salute to the Heavenly Friends Alliance delegation as they proceeded towards the main sect hall.
Only the drumming of the rain could be perceived—a solemn tribute devoid of any celebratory outcries.
As they passed through this silent reception, the Heavenly Friends Alliance party observed the ancient pavilion before them, where Geum Yang-Baek stood waiting to receive them.
Baek Cheon quietly gathered the raindrops that had collected in his opened palm.