Read Novel Full Chapter 1241: Is That Really All? (1)
Chapter 1241: Is That Really All? (1)
“Ugh... my stomach...”
Jo Gul muttered with a sour face. The alcohol from last night must have been too much; his stomach felt terrible.
“The Southern Island kids really drink like savages.”
“...They’re probably saying the same thing over on the other side.”
“Still, I don’t think we’ve ever gotten wasted from drinking before—except for that time with the Beast Palace Lord...”
“Let’s just exclude that person from the human count for now.”
The same goes for Chung Myung, who had been duking it out with the Beast Palace Lord.
“Ugh.”
Jo Gul groaned as he fumbled to open his bundle. From the journey he carefully brought out Mount Hua’s ceremonial robe, wrapped tenderly as if worried it might be ruined.
“But why hold a meeting this early in the morning?”
“It’s not early, it’s late.”
“Huh?”
Yoon Jong said with a bitter face.
“Just giving us one night’s rest shows the Sect leader’s remarkable patience. Would you have been able to keep quiet and wait if strangers came in this situation?”
“...No, I wouldn’t.”
“Right.”
Yoon Jong shook his head and said.
“Looking at the faces of those who drank, it seems they felt a heavier pressure than we expected. Given that, they were considerate enough to give us time after our long journey—be thankful. Don’t voice pointless complaints.”
“Ah, sahyung. Do you think I’m the sort to complain about that? I’m not complaining—I’m just worried my drinking hasn’t worn off and I might look awful for no reason.”
“...I agree with that.”
Yoon Jong gave a wry smile. In truth, he barely remembered how they got into their lodgings. Come to think of it, they didn’t even know this place was their quarters, so it wasn’t exactly voluntary.
It was definitely a disgraceful scene—hardly the appearance a guest visiting Southern Island for an important negotiation should show.
But neither Yoon Jong nor Jo Gul really felt regret.
“What on earth was that guy thinking, drinking himself into that state?”
“What would we know? We just follow the atmosphere and match it if necessary.”
“Ha...”
Yoon Jong shook his head.
They say a dog at a village school will recite poetry after three years—after living beside Chung Myung for over three years, reasons and righteousness stop mattering much. You just assume there’s some reason and go along, matching the rhythm by instinct.
“We’ll be late. Hurry up.”
“W-wait. Just my pants...”
“...Put them on quickly.”
“I’m fully dressed, I’m done!”
Yoon Jong sighed and opened the door. As soon as he stepped out, people were opening doors and coming out all around.
“Did you sleep well last night, Namgung’s Young lord?”
“Taoist Yoon Jong also slept... hic... well... hic...”
Yoon Jong looked askance at Namgung Do-Wei.
The man, whose face had once seemed chiseled and handsome even to other men, now looked gaunt like a patient.
“...You don’t look well...”
“What kind of damn drinking was that... no, what kind of person...”
“Then why don’t you stop at a reasonable point?”
“...Then it would feel ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ like losing, wouldn’t it?”
“...”
Yoon Jong squeezed his eyes shut. This fellow was also starting to lose his senses, it seemed.
“I’m dying.”
“Watch it. Walk straight, will you.”
“I’m walking straight.”
“Watch it! Not that way, this way. For heaven’s sake! I gave you a sobering medicine!”
Tang Soso. Why on earth did you bring sobering medicine all the way to Southern Island?
Everyone who had come out looked uniformly terrible. After all, they’d pushed their bodies with forced marches and then poured in more alcohol than they could handle until they fainted—if they looked fine, that would be stranger.
“Hold on. What about the Green Forest King?”
“...He hasn’t gotten up. I think we should move him to the infirmary, not the meeting hall.”
“...Is he that bad? We should at least check his condition...”
“Ah.”
As Yoon Jong tried to head toward Im So-Byeong’s room, Namgung Do-Wei stopped him.
“You’d better not go in. It’ll completely ruin your appetite.”
“...”
“For now, we mustn’t offend anyone—once the meeting’s over we’ll have to wash those bedding sets.”
“...”
Yoon Jong rubbed his face in dismay.
‘At this rate...’
Can we even hold a proper meeting like this?
“Then what about the sasuk?”
“Uh, right? He wouldn’t normally be late...”
It was at that moment.
Bang.
One of the doors flung wide, and Baek Cheon stepped out with a measured, neither quick nor slow, gait.
Swish.
With each step the pure white robe rippled elegantly like a wave.
The spotless white robe, perfectly groomed hair combed back, and the white headband around his forehead matched his pale skin as if painted on.
While others were half-dead, Baek Cheon’s appearance was as neat as always—no, several times neater than usual.
Step.
Baek Cheon walked into the corridor with a light step, scanned everyone with his sharp eyes, and spoke.
“Is everyone out?”
Mount Hua’s disciples began whispering among themselves.
“...At that level, isn’t it actually an illness?”
“At this point you have to admit it’s sickness...”
“You have to be that kind of person to be Mount Hua’s Sect leader.”
“...I’ll give you that.”
Mount Hua’s disciples nodded automatically, while leaders from other sects grimaced at the sight.
“Is that even a person...”
Namgung Do-Wei was especially on the verge of gnashing his teeth. Baek Cheon had surely drunk more than he did yesterday—how could he still look so composed?
This couldn’t be explained simply by superior martial skill.
“You are guests and envoys meeting the leader of another sect. So none of you should be careless in your bearing...”
Baek Cheon trailed off and frowned mid-sentence. His displeased look produced a solemn reaction.
“...We’re sorry, sasuk.”
“Sorry for not being handsome.”
“Sorry.”
“We did try our best.”
“Tch.”
Baek Cheon clicked his tongue at his disciples’ shabby faces and appearances—he seemed displeased. Though inwardly they felt wronged, seeing Baek Cheon’s expression swallowed any complaints back down their throats.
“What about Chung Myung?”
“Who knows? I don’t see him. There’s no way he can’t get up from being drunk.”
“Not in his room?”
“I didn’t see him there.”
“Then where...”
Baek Cheon nodded as if he’d guessed.
“Alright. Let’s go.”
“And Chung Myung?”
“He’ll come when he feels like it.”
Baek Cheon glanced at those in front of him and spoke.
“Let me say once more: each of you here represents everyone in the Heavenly Friends Alliance.”
“...”
“Think twice before you speak, and always keep in mind how you will appear to them.”
“...You’re saying that to all of us, right?”
“Let’s go.”
“Sasuk? But... when you speak, why are you looking only at me... Sasuk?”
Baek Cheon ignored Jo Gul’s protest and walked down the corridor. Once others couldn’t see his face, a short sigh escaped him—he was slightly tense.
This was his first duty as acting Sect leader of Mount Hua. Regardless of the outcome, he had to present himself as Mount Hua’s head and the Heavenly Friends Alliance’s envoy.
With a stern face he descended the stairs to the lower floor.
And then...
“Heh heh heh. Look at this guy’s complexion!”
“...Ah, just go away.”
“Exactly, someone who can’t drink shouldn’t act all macho like that...”
“Can’t drink? My nickname’s the Southern Sea Drinking Whale!”
“Looks like the whales in this town are the size of minnows, huh?”
“No, but seriously!”
“Oh dear. If I’d challenged him and been crushed, I’d have bitten my tongue and died. Yet he comes out with his head held high.”
“Lose? It was a draw, a draw!”
“If the one waiting drew with the one who came from afar, then effectively he lost.”
“Ughhh.”
Gwak Hwan-So’s dark face flushed with rage. Chung Myung, who’d been gleefully teasing, turned his gaze toward the stairs at the sound of movement—and then grinned upon seeing Baek Cheon descend.
“And look. Our Acting Sect leader looks perfectly fine, unlike that one who’s 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 look like that too.”
“Who was that last one just now? What kind of bastard was he?”
Watching Chung Myung fully side with the Southern Island disciples to tease Gwak Hwan-So, Baek Cheon shook his head.
‘He really is hopeless.’
Under normal circumstances the atmosphere here should have been grave. It was the day that would decide Southern Island’s future and the Heavenly Friends Alliance’s future, and the disciples present knew that.
But last night’s drinking and Chung Myung’s jokes that appeared here first had loosened the mood considerably.
The tension on Baek Cheon’s shoulders eased a bit. He parted his lips as if to say something, then let out a short chuckle.
“Chung Myung.”
“Yes?”
“...Come here, it’s embarrassing.”
“What, did I say something wrong?”
“...Please, just shut up.”
“That’s so unfair to me!”
At Baek Cheon’s gesture, Yoon Jong and Jo Gul sprang forward, grabbed Chung Myung’s arms, and led him off toward the back.
“No! I didn’t say anything wrong! That bastard started the trouble first! Why me only! Ugh! Ugh ugh!”
Tang Soso deftly stuffed cloth into Chung Myung’s mouth and bound it, and Baek Cheon sighed deeply before bowing to Gwak Hwan-so.
“I’m sorry. Um... as you well know... he’s always been like that...”
“...You must have had a hard time.”
“It would take more than three days to explain in words.”
Baek Cheon stopped and gave Gwak Hwan-So a peculiar look before speaking.
“By the way, you don’t look well?”
“...I’m always dark-skinned.”
“It doesn’t seem like that... could it be a hangover?”
“I said I’m naturally dark. Southern Island people are dark from the sun!”
“Ah, that’s a relief. I was worried you’d harmed your health from just that much drinking. So it won’t be a problem, right?”
“...Drop dead on the way.”
“Pardon?”
“No, nothing.”
Baek Cheon smiled faintly; Gwak Hwan-So chuckled and then straightened, returning the bow.
“I am Gwak Hwan-So, Southern Island’s great disciple. The Sect leader wishes to see you, so please follow me. I will guide you.”
“We’d appreciate that.”
Gwak Hwan-So, his mischievousness washed away, turned. The waiting Southern Island disciples then flanked the Heavenly Friends Alliance members, radiating the air of warriors as they formed a guard.
“Please forgive us for the rough path; the typhoon hasn’t fully subsided yet.”
“A warrior who avoids the driving wind is no warrior. Do not worry.”
Pleased with that reply, Gwak Hwan-So grinned.
“Open it.”
“Yes!”
The entrance doors flung wide open.
Baek Cheon’s eyes narrowed a little. The typhoon still raged, yet Southern Island’s disciples stood in formation on either side of the path, unfazed by the fierce rain and wind.
“...You didn’t have to...”
“Don’t say it.”
Gwak Hwan-So spoke in a serious tone.
“We’re not asking you to look kindly upon us. Nor are we trying to show off our strength or threaten you.”
“...”
“No matter the outcome of our discussion with the Sect leader from now on, it doesn’t matter. We merely want to show the minimum courtesy we owe to those who risked their lives to come all the way to Southern Island when no one else would.”
Baek Cheon’s face hardened slightly.
“Then please, go ahead.”
Gwak Hwan-So led the way into the wind and rain. Baek Cheon nodded and followed behind him.
Southern Island’s disciples, clothing soaked from standing for some time, drew their swords in unison and silently saluted the Heavenly Friends Alliance party as they headed to the sect hall.
Only the sound of rain could be heard—a silent salute without a single loud cheer.
As they received that salute and walked on, the Heavenly Friends Alliance party saw the old-fashioned pavilion and Geum Yang-Baek standing in front to greet them.
Baek Cheon quietly cupped the rainwater gathering in his palm.