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The world was unfair. Jin Dongryong had known that from the day he was born. As the years passed, he only came to realize it more and more. His brother, his father, and what had happened to the Mount Hua Sect made him all too aware of that painful truth.
This was the first time it was quite so obvious, however.
“The next person who lets their arms wobble will get their weights doubled! This is the basics of the basics!! How are you all so bad at this?!?!”
Such words would be met with disbelief and rightful punishment in any other sect. Unfortunately, this was Mount Hua, and that was CheongMyeong.
No one could be surprised by it anymore.
“Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! BaekSang-sasuk, helping out with finances is not an excuse to slack off!”
BaekSang, who had done the exact opposite of slacking off in recent years, could only grit his teeth together in frustration.
“Lower your weight, Sahyung!”
He did.
“Fix your grip strength, Sago! The best you’ll manage like that is poking your own eye out!”
She tried.
“Dongryong, aim properly! The next time your mind wanders I’ll throw you off the highest peak we’ve got!”
BaekCheon took a deep, calming breath.
“You kids don’t know the first thing about hard work and grit! Don’t think the real world will treat you as nicely as I do! This is no time to get complacent!”
‘No one’s getting complacent; we’re all working harder than ever!’ everyone thought.
“Hm.” CheongMyeong paused, glancing over at the newest member of the sect. “Oh, Hyung, be careful. You’re not used to doing techniques with your body as it is now. You’ll need to extend your arms a bit farther during that move if you want to hit someone.”
“Like this?” CheongMun asked, trying again.
“Exactly. You’re doing great, Hyung,” CheongMyeong said, smiling at him.
No one listening from afar would believe this was the same person as the one who had spoken just moments before. The disciples watched with narrowed eyes and gritted teeth. Then, satisfied with how his ‘Hyung’ was doing, CheongMyeong glanced back at the other disciples (forcing them to quickly hide the glares they were sending his way). Collectively, one thought took root in everyone’s minds.
‘This is completely unfair!!!!’
Several weeks ago, after receiving a letter from an unknown sender, CheongMyeong had vanished from Mount Hua. He didn’t notify the sect leader, didn’t leave a threatening note for the kids, and didn’t even think to bring Baek-ah with him. The sect fell into a minor state of panic, HyeonYeong especially all-but turning the mountain upside down to find him. And then he returned, one day later, with someone else in tow.
‘Greetings, Sect Leader. My name is CheongMun and I would like to join the Mount Hua Sect.’
‘Ah,’ HyeonJong had said, somewhat mystified. ‘Well… I’m afraid we’re not accepting new disciples at this-‘
‘But we can always make an exception!’ CheongMyeong interrupted.
CheongMyeong never interrupted the Sect Leader. Despite everything, he did value the sect hierarchy. He made the Baek disciples agree to give up their positions as his seniors before doing anything to them. When it came to the elders, his deference was even stronger.
But now, as he spoke, there was a strange desperation in his tone that superseded the respect he usually used.
‘Sect leader, just let him join,’ HyeonYeong had whispered. ‘If it’ll make CheongMyeong happy then we might as well. What harm is taking in one more brat?’
So, tentatively, HyeonJong had agreed. The news brought a grateful smile to CheongMun’s face, but had made CheongMyeong’s light up in a way none of them had ever seen before. That night, he assembled his students in the training grounds.
‘I’m sure most of you have heard, but we’ll be getting a new disciple soon. I expect you all to treat him courteously and refer to him as ‘Hyung-nim’ — if you speak to him at all!’
Confusion had spread throughout the sect.
‘But… CheongMyeong, he’s the newest disciple,’ Yoon Jong pointed out. ‘That makes him our Sajae.’
‘Or Sajil,’ BaekSang added, pointing out how preposterous it would be for a Sasuk to refer to their junior that way.
Unfortunately, CheongMyeong just shrugged: ‘Sure, sure, but in terms of actual age, he’s older than even me.’
Everyone paused.
‘That… doesn’t mean much when you’re the youngest one-’
The foolish disciple who had spoken cut off immediately upon feeling the mad dog send him a ferocious glare.
CheongMyeong cleared his throat.
‘Look, it’s not complicated. You’re all learning from me. If he’s my Hyung, that makes him your Hyung too!’
Blank stares were prevalent all around. Then, one by one, those stares turned into resignation. Writing it off as just another one of CheongMyeong’s weird demands, most of the disciples decided to not ask any more questions. Unfortunately, there was one person whose curiosity got the better of them.
‘So… hypothetically… what will happen if we don’t refer to him respectfully?’ Jo Gul had asked. His question was coming from a purely economic standpoint. There must be some cost-benefit reason for CheongMyeong’s instructions, he had thought. One possible explanation was that CheongMun had some special technique he could teach them. Or maybe he was the inventor of a unique weapons manufacturing style. Or perhaps CheongMun was the heir of a great family and staying on his good side would benefit the sect. It was hard to figure it out. Even Soso, a daughter of the Dang family, didn’t receive this kind of treatment. Every disciple was equal under CheongMyeong. At least, until now.
‘Good question, Sahyung. I’ll give everyone a demonstration. Come forward.’
‘Me?’ Jo Gul asked.
CheongMyeong had just grinned.
Needless to say, no one was willing to disobey after that. Even now, as they were all gathered together in the dining hall, they made sure to keep CheongMyeong’s words in mind.
“Would you like some more water, Hyung-nim?”
“Yes, thank you,” CheongMun nodded.
“Hyung-nim, do you have any questions so far? You’re new to the sect, so if there’s anything you want to know you just need to ask!”
“I’ll take you up on that offer sometime, then.” He smiled.
“Hyung-nim, is there anything else you need?!”
“...No,” CheongMun said slowly, growing a little exhausted. “Senior Brothers, if it’s not too much trouble, you can just refer to me by my name. I am your junior, after all.”
“No! There’s no need for that!” The disciples squeaked.
The unfair treatment CheongMyeong was giving CheongMun naturally caused grudges to form against him. In the beginning, more than a few harsh glares were sent his way. Unfortunately, he was a rather hard person to hate.
Due to how old he was, it was natural for him to be struggling a bit when it came to developing his core. He had missed the age at which it would be easiest to create one (even Soso had at least begun the basics of that in childhood, coming from the Dang family and all). To counter this, CheongMyeong had worked every day to send his own qi into CheongMun’s body, forcefully cleaning out the impurities there. There was a limit to what CheongMyeong could do alone, however. Most of CheongMun’s rapid progress was due to the frankly insane number of hours he spent. He would get up when CheongMyeong did, going with him in the middle of the night to practice as hard as he could. Despite the gentle words CheongMyeong used, he was giving his ‘Hyung’ more corrections than anyone else. CheongMun would accept them without complaint every time, improving astonishingly quickly — as if he already knew all the moves he had to do. If there was one thing the disciples under CheongMyeong could respect, it was hard work. And that wasn’t all. The finance office received regular help from CheongMun, whose business sense was astounding for someone so young. The medical office got advice on improvements in management and the sect leader had found him to be ripe with helpful advice. Even the disciples had received such care, regularly finding themselves being doted on like CheongMun was a mother hen.
The biggest impact, however, was through CheongMyeong.
‘They said what about us?!’ CheongMyeong growled, standing up.
The six swords of Mount Hua instantly scrambled for something sweet to stuff in CheongMyeong’s mouth. Unfortunately, due to their distance from the sect, they had run out. All they could do was cling onto him desperately.
‘So some backwater, nameless fools think they’re stronger than Mount Hua?!’
‘CheongMyeong, wait-‘
‘Okay, we’ll put that to the test! Gather them around before me. We’ll see just how strong they are!’
‘CheongMyeong, the sect leader said to not make a scene-!‘
‘We’re not making a scene! They’re the ones who started this through what they said!‘
At that moment, CheongMun had finished getting them rooms in a nearby inn. He rounded the corner and, upon seeing what was going on, dropped the books he’d been carrying and broke into a sprint.
‘CheongMyeong, stop! What do you think you’re doing?!’ he shouted. CheongMyeong looked over and, without fighting back, allowed himself to get wacked on the head.
*BONK*
‘You little mudskipper! Are you going to go pick a fight again?! How many times do I have to tell you to not go attacking everyone who crosses your path?!’
Instead of shouting back, CheongMyeong wilted before their eyes.
‘But, Hyung, they called Mount Hua-’
‘And what will attacking them prove except that you have no self discipline?!’
CheongMyong floundered, protesting, ‘They-they won’t be able to say we’re weak anymore!’
‘I doubt they really believe that themselves. You cannot go around beating up children just because they like bragging to their friends!’
The ‘children’ in question were in their fifties, but, already used to CheongMyeong, the disciples didn’t comment on that phrasing.
‘Myeong-ah,’ CheongMun said softly, grabbing onto CheongMyeong’s arm. ‘They can be dealt with at a later time. Let’s complete the mission we were assigned first.’
Which was what the six swords had been saying all along; CheongMyeong had just responded that he could accomplish both goals simultaneously. Now, however, he paused, thought over what CheongMun had said, then nodded once.
‘Alright. We’ll wait,’ he conceded, relaxing. The six swords kept their holds on him for a while longer, wondering if they’d started hallucinating. They hadn’t, however; CheongMyeong had really just stopped.
And the list went on.
‘CheongMyeong, you can drink later. Have some tea for now.’
‘…Fine, Hyung.’
‘CheongMyeong, can you come help me with this for a moment?’
‘On my way, Hyung!’
‘CheongMyeong, can you demonstrate this technique for me?’
‘Of course, Sahy — I mean, of course, Hyung.’
And on and on. It was really strange to see someone boss CheongMyeong around like that. HyeonYeong might’ve objected to it all if CheongMun’s presence didn’t make CheongMyeong so obviously happy.
Therefore, the disciples were all in agreement: currying favor with CheongMun was the best option they had.
“Hyung, have you been sleeping okay? Do you want to try a different blanket? My family back home is really good at making them, so I have extras!”
“I’m alright. Thank you for offering, though.”
“Some alcohol-”
“No. Thank you.”
Some disciples in the back sighed. CheongMun was a rather difficult person to bribe.
In addition, though he wasn’t as strange as CheongMyeong, there were quite a few things about him that didn’t quite add up. Despite always taking care to refer to them as “Sahyung,” “Sasuk,” and “Sago,” respectfully, CheongMun never referred to their resident troublemaker as anything other than “CheongMyeong.” Soso wondered how CheongMyeong would react if she stopped calling him “Sahyung” too.
(She decided to not find out. It was still CheongMyeong, after all.)
In addition, CheongMun didn’t hesitate to scold all of them — including the Baeks and Uns — when he thought they were doing something wrong. Whenever CheongMyeong’s corruptive influence showed itself, CheongMun would be right there to settle them down. His mother-henning was absurdly powerful. Even Jo Gul had ended up crossing his robes higher up his chest after receiving a lecture from their new youngest. CheongMyeong wasn’t immune, either. He would still get into fights and go drinking and manipulate poor souls into giving Mount Hua everything they had, but, when CheongMun told him to stop, he would always comply. In the weeks CheongMun had been here, there was only one exception:
The disciples trembled against the floor, barely able to breathe through their exhaustion. CheongMun was still getting his core developed (and being coddled by CheongMyeong), so this was his first time seeing their training. It, obviously, looked more like torture than anything else.
‘CheongMyeong, don’t you think you’re pushing them too hard?’ CheongMun had asked. ‘Maybe you should let them take a break. We want them to be excited to train too.’
In that moment, all the bitterness and jealousy the disciples had felt before then vanished into thin air. They understood, for the first time, what it felt like to stand in the presence of an angel. Their savior had arrived! But-
CheongMyeong shook his head.
‘...Myeong-ah?’
‘I know what I’m doing,’ CheongMyeong said. ‘I won’t push them too hard.’
The disciples had quite a few objections to that, but were, at the time, too tired to speak.
‘Myeong-ah, I really think you should stop. We talked about this years ago, didn’t we? The disciples haven’t done anything wrong. You’re basically just punishing them now.’
‘They can handle it.’
‘CheongMyeong-‘
‘Sahyung, enough,’ CheongMyeong snapped. ‘They’re still nowhere near the level they should be at. If anything, you should be asking me to push them more! If you’re satisfied with how they are now — if you think making sure they enjoy themselves is our priority — then you’ve understood nothing about what happened that day.’
‘That day?’ everyone thought, even more confused than usual. They were on the fast track to becoming the best sect in the world. There was no reason for CheongMyeong to be dissatisfied with their progress. No one even knew what he was trying to say.
His ‘Hyung’ seemed to have an idea, though.
Slowly, CheongMun reached up to his left shoulder. His hand trembled as he felt at the flesh there. It was like he wasn’t sure he would find anything — as if his shoulder could ever not be in that place.
‘…You’re right,’ he conceded at last. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry. I won’t interfere again.’
And just like that, the image of protection and holiness the kids had seen in him crumpled into dust.
BaekCheon sighed lightly, picking at his food.
“Is something wrong?” CheongMun asked, noticing BaekCheon’s expression.
“Ah, no,” BaekCheon responded at once. “I’m just… a little tired from training.”
“Those were heavy rocks you were carrying,” CheongMun observed.
“Made even heavier when CheongMyeong jumps on top of them,” Jo Gul added on, bitterly.
The one saving grace of it all was that BaekCheon was the most common target of that habit. Several disciples sent him pitying looks at the reminder.
“It’s still nothing in comparison to the training he does for himself, though,” Yu Isol pointed out.
“We know!” everyone shouted back, groaning in annoyance. That was exactly what made it so frustrating. Every time they tried to complain to him, he got to say ‘What are you talking about? This is nothing!’ and actually mean it. The things they were doing would genuinely be child’s play to him, considering the amount of training he usually did.
“He’s insane.”
“A monster.”
“A freak.”
CheongMun just laughed lightly at the general consensus, commenting, “He’s always had a bit too much energy. If I recall correctly, he learned how to sneak into our kitchens to grab sweets undetected by the time he was three. I never would have noticed if I hadn’t, by pure chance, opened a cupboard he was hiding inside.”
Recalling that moment, CheongMun’s eyes softened considerably.
(Once, he would have concluded that exact same story with a sigh, finishing it by adding that CheongMyeong hadn’t managed to mature at all since then. However, after the day CheongMyeong returned to base alone, holding Dangbo’s hairpin in his hands, CheongMun had found it hard to keep the same perspective.)
It was strange. He had lived over ninety years and yet there was still so much for him to learn.
“...Wait, when he was three?” Hyeyeon repeated, snapping CheongMun out of his thoughts. “I’d kinda thought you met when he was a teenager. How long have you known each other?”
“Many years now,” CheongMun responded with a laugh.
“And he’s always been like this?!” BaekCheon asked.
CheongMun paused then looked away, which was an answer in itself.
“How did you and CheongMyeong-Sahyung get to know each other?” Soso asked. “You’re from a family of farmers, right? How did you come into contact, then?”
After pausing for a bit, thinking deeply, CheongMun asked, “How much do you know about CheongMyeong’s past?”
The disciples looked at each other, all feeling that ‘not very much’ wouldn’t be a good answer. To be fair, most people at Mount Hua didn’t go around loudly proclaiming their family histories. On the other hand, almost everyone at Mount Hua was just from a small merchant family, so there wasn’t much to say.
As for CheongMyeong…
“He was a beggar, right?” Yoon Jong asked. “Did he beg near your family’s farm or something?”
“No, I knew him from before then,” CheongMun explained, “My… guardian found him when he was a baby outside of our home. However, we were… separated for a while after. I suppose he became a beggar then.”
“Why were you separated?” someone asked curiously.
CheongMun’s expression turned even more awkward following that. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, at a loss for words. Then, looking to the side, he found himself making eye contact with several disciples.
For a moment, his expression seemed to crumple with grief.
So Yoon Jong quickly changed the subject: “Say, do you know why CheongMyeong came all the way over to Mount Hua? Your home is pretty far away away from what I understand.”
“Pardon?” CheongMun asked, caught off guard.
“Well, I… suppose it isn’t really our business, but CheongMyeong seems to care, um, a lot about Mount Hua. As soon as he joined the sect he started trying to change us. And you came here, too. I was just wondering if you two had a specific reason to choose Mount Hua.”
(CheongMyeong would probably rip them apart if they made CheongMun sad. Besides, the newest member of the sect seemed like a genuinely kind person — more so than anyone else at Mount Hua post CheongMyeong’s influence. A single scolding look from him could turn their mad dog into a kicked puppy. It seemed best to not upset him.)
“...Like I said, I don’t know the full details of what happened to CheongMyeong,” CheongMun confessed. “But… he and I have always had a high opinion of Mount Hua. I wouldn’t be surprised if he traveled quite a ways to reach here. I came partly because of that, and also partly to meet up with him.”
“Always?” Yu Isol asked, softly.
They had ‘always’ had a high opinion of them?
Soso grinned: “I guess you understand that better than anyone, huh Sago?”
She nodded once.
“So that’s what it was,” someone muttered. “That’s not what I expected.”
“It’s kinda nice though, isn’t it?” another disciple grinned.
“Yeah! I can’t believe someone was talking well about us back then!”
Glancing over at them, CheongMun asked, “What do you mean?”
BaekCheon gave an awkward laugh, confessing, “After our sect fell in status, it became harder and harder to find people who remembered our glory days.”
“Really? But… ah, I suppose CheongMyeong did mention that Mount Hua had struggled a bit before he arrived.”
“If by ‘struggled a bit’ you mean ‘nearly got destroyed,’ then sure,” Jo Gul commented, then coughed as he got elbowed by Yoon Jong and Dang Soso a moment later.
CheongMun frowned: “Nearly destroyed?”
Everyone nodded.
“Oh,” he said, slowly realizing how serious they were. “I didn’t realize it had gotten so bad.”
“Yeah, well… no one really talked about us back then, so I guess I’m not surprised.”
Everyone gave reluctant nods of agreement, feeling that summarized the issue in its entirety. CheongMun, however, frowned.
“CheongMyeong… didn’t tell me,” he muttered, speaking mostly to himself. “I mean… he said that the Ten Great Sects and Huayin's citizens hadn’t helped us after, but…”
CheongMun paused.
(No, that wasn’t what he'd said.)
(When CheongMyeong described it, he’d used the word “betrayed.”)
(CheongMun had been sure he was exaggerating, then.)
“Can you… tell me more?” CheongMun requested.
The disciples of Mount Hua paused, looked at each other, then collectively shrugged.
“Sure,” they said.
Hearing someone open the door behind him, CheongMyeong spun around.
“Hyung-nim?” he asked.
He had noticed CheongMun’s presence some time ago, but hadn’t realized his Sahyung was heading towards him until the very last moment. He frowned, standing up.
“Is something wrong?”
“Ah… no,” CheongMun shook his head. “I was just speaking to the children. They’re quite a lively group.”
“Ha. Of course they are!” CheongMyeong declared, sticking his chest out in pride.
CheongMun smiled, wondering, for a moment, what would have happened if he’d allowed CheongMyeong to train disciples of his own back then.
(Then again, it was hard to say that would’ve worked out. CheongMun wasn’t the only one who the war had changed, after all.)
“What are you doing now?” CheongMun asked.
“Ah, it’s not important,” CheongMyeong said at once. “The head of the Eunha Merchant Guild sent a letter to me, so I was reading through it.”
Which was, admittedly, pretty important, but very little was as important to CheongMyeong as his Sahyung’s time.
“You really are involved with finances now, huh?” CheongMun observed, mildly surprised.
“It’s nothing compared to what Sahyung used to do. I’m just the in-between. The ones actually running our businesses are the Guild members.”
“I see. Then… if what you’re doing now isn’t important, could I have some of your time?”
“Of course,” CheongMyeong answered at once, barely stopping to consider. A slight frown appeared on his features, his brows furrowing in concern.
(Before the war, ‘concern’ was something CheongMyeong only felt when he might get in trouble. If a hundred sects challenged him at once, he would simply beat them up; if someone told his Sahyung about it afterward, then he had something to worry about.)
(Now, his worries seemed as innumerable as the stars.)
But his Sahyung then continued with, “If you feel up to it, why don’t we head out for a spar?”
Surprise colored CheongMyeong’s face. Shortly after, joy replaced it. He all but leapt over, grabbing his sword and eagerly following his once-Sahyung further outside.
Although the spar wasn’t something they had to keep secret from the kids, there was no reason to disturb them either. As such, CheongMun walked deep into the forest, ending up in a desolate grove too far for anyone to hear. He checked the surroundings then stretched for a bit, preparing himself for what was to come.
He knew he wouldn’t be able to win. Even a hundred years ago — when he had the power of an elder and not just the mind — he would lose. Whether it was the current CheongMyeong or the Plum Blossom Sword Saint there was no chance of victory.
Unless you were the Heavenly Demon, of course.
As a result of that, there were never many people willing to spar with CheongMyeong. There were more in this life — Yu Isol, BaekCheon, and Hyeyeon, especially — but even then there was a different feel. The kids knew they wouldn’t be able to touch CheongMyeong if he didn’t want them to. As such, any fights were considered training from an instructor, not a process in which both sides could seek to improve. They required CheongMyeong to fight differently — to make a lesson out of it, rather than just a match. The kids weren’t to blame for that, of course, and being willing to fight CheongMyeong at all was still leagues better than most would offer.
Still.
“Are you ready?” CheongMyeong asked, unsheathing his sword.
CheongMun nodded once and did the same.
“Of course.”
They stared at each other. Then-
A clash of metal. A sharp ringing sound echoed. Sparks flew into the air.
The two disciples of Mount Hua grinned.
A hundred years ago, there was an all-too-common pattern in place. Someone would criticize CheongMyeong, confident in their superiority and looking to prove it in a fight. They would goad him into accepting the challenge and then, unsurprisingly, wind up thoroughly beaten and bruised. They would fall to his feet after, their earlier complaints forgotten in the face of his power. If CheongMyeong ever offered them another fight they would flee or immediately say no. Countless Sahyungs, Sasuks, and outsiders — Wudang’s Sword Emperor, Shaolin’s Guardians, and Kangho’s many other heroes — experienced this at some point or another. It was only CheongJin, Dangbo, and CheongMun that stayed. They continued spending time with CheongMyeong. Those three, even knowing they couldn’t win, would be happy to spar with him if he offered. CheongMun would even make the suggestion himself more often than not.
A blade shot forward.
CheongMun jumped out of the way of CheongMyeong’s attack, sending over his own (easily countered) one right after. CheongMyeong continued at a manageably slow pace, sticking to a level CheongMun could keep up with. They both knew CheongMyeong could practically do this fight in his sleep. He was never once caught off guard, treating it more like a dance than anything else. And yet, despite that, his grin only widened as the fight went on.
Their blades clashed again.
No matter how far ahead CheongMyeong’s martial arts progressed, CheongMun never stopped scolding him for even a moment. CheongMyeong could defeat him a hundred times in a row and still get lectured the next day. CheongMun was the first one to give him a sense of normalcy, and, during the rare, rare times something went wrong, he would be the first to offer CheongMyeong help.
(Regardless of whether CheongMyeong needed it or not.)
And thus-
“Ah-“ CheongMun let out a short gasp of surprise, realizing a second too late that CheongMyeong had lured him into a trap. He retreated at once, but, already knocked off balance, couldn’t help but fall when CheongMyeong swung down on his blocking sword.
He landed on the ground with a soft *thump.*
The tip of CheongMyeong’s blade was pointed at his neck a moment later.
A sudden stillness took over the grove. No birds chirped. No animals could move. The two stared at each other, the only audible noise being the breathless pants leaving CheongMun’s throat.
A moment later, he laughed.
“Looks like you win again.”
Their fight had lasted for half an hour, using up every bit of strength CheongMun had. CheongMyeong, on the other hand, didn’t have a drop of sweat on him. His breathing was perfectly calm and his body was cool to the touch. Despite that, his eyes seemed more alive than ever before.
CheongMun patted the ground next to him, gesturing for CheongMyeong to sit. Eyes still wide in exhilaration, CheongMyeong had to think for a moment before registering the request. He walked over and sat down next to his once-Sahyung, following his gaze toward where the sun crept below the treeline in the distance. A strange calm settled over the grove, CheongMun’s heavy breaths filling the silence.
“I was talking to the little ones,” he said at last, feeling his breathing slowly return to normal. “They had a lot of stories to share about you.”
“Oh, don’t listen to them. They just like complaining. The training’s good for them, and it’s not even that hard. There’s no reason for them to whine-”
“Know some shame, brat!” CheongMun scolded, pulling at his ear.
“Ah, wait! Sahyung! Sahyung! It hurts!”
CheongMun tugged once more before finally letting go. He took in a deep, calming breath, then opened his eyes. All around, the sunset was turning the surrounding plum blossoms into orange-tinted shards of light. They all-but glowed against the rapidly darkening sky.
“I didn’t realize how much you had to do to get the Mount Hua Sect to where it is now,” CheongMun confessed.
“What do you mean?” CheongMyeong asked, glancing over.
“That I apologize,” CheongMun began. “When you mentioned what the Ten Great Sects did, I thought you had been exaggerating a little. The fact that they took our businesses, stole our techniques, and tried to stamp us out — I still have trouble believing it. I… I should have left someone behind to protect Mount Hua.”
Because CheongMyeong might consider his weakness to have been the cause of the sect’s destruction, but CheongMun was the commander who had ordered that scenario into existence.
CheongMyeong had told him to focus on the sect first and he hadn’t listened.
“It’s not your fault,” CheongMyeong said. “None of us expected the Heavenly Demon to be so strong. Or for the sects to act as they did.”
“Still. I was wrong.”
“You weren’t. You’re not. You never are,” CheongMyeong shook his head.
It was a childish, simplistic view, but one CheongMyeong couldn’t help but hold. He had certainly thought his Sahyung was mistaken before — CheongMun’s insistence that helping their business managers would be repaid in kind came to mind — and yet there was another layer to it too. The Sect Leader chose the direction Mount Hua would go in. CheongMyeong’s Sahyung had simply decided to create a space that would allow the disciples to grow. Then, when war came, he had chosen a path of standing up for what was right. It was CheongMyeong’s job to make sure that his Sahyung’s dreams could come to fruition. None of this was the Sect Leader’s fault.
Besides-
“We saved the world, didn’t we?” he asked.
“You did,” CheongMun agreed. “And saved Mount Hua after being brought back.”
“Sahyung, I-“
“It’s just ‘Hyung’ now, Myeong-ah,” CheongMun reminded him. “I’m not your Sahyung anymore.”
CheongMyeong shook his head, then felt himself being pulled in to lean on CheongMun’s shoulder. He paused for a moment before allowing himself to relax against him.
“I’m sorry you had to do all this alone,” CheongMun said. “I came back to a Mount Hua that’s, in some ways, even stronger than the one I left. You had to bring it back here from scratch. I… saw the martial arts books they use. You wrote those, didn’t you?”
A nod.
“Do they know?”
CheongMyeong shook his head.
“I see.”
Several plum blossoms fell off the branches before them, swirling through the air as they drifted down.
Then, almost too quietly to be heard, CheongMyeong muttered, “I’m sorry I failed you, Sect Leader.”
CheongMun froze.
“I couldn’t… I couldn’t save anyone. I couldn’t save you — I let you die-!”
He cut off, feeling CheongMun pull him into a hug. His Sahyung — his Hyung — wrapped his arms around CheongMyeong’s back, pressing him into his chest.
“You killed the Heavenly Demon,” he said. “You did well. You did so well. And now…”
He breathed.
“Now you’ve made an alliance that will help us if things go wrong. You’ve made Mount Hua safe in a way that it’s never been before. You’ve done everything right. I’m so, so proud.”
CheongMyeong stiffened under his arms. Then, slowly, he relaxed once more. He allowed all the tension in his body to leave, collapsing completely against CheongMun’s chest. No tears left his eyes, but the relief he felt in that moment was intense enough for him to practically taste it.
Mount Hua was always home, but nowhere would ever feel as safe as his Sahyung’s arms.
“Sahyung,” he muttered,
“Thank you, CheongMyeong,” CheongMun whispered back. “Thank you. For everything.”