CLS-Chapter 156

Chapter 156

Gong Mu-jin was angry, but Wei Yan-ho was defiant.

“I cannot call my father ‘father’!”

“What kind of nonsense is that!”

“What crime have I committed? I’m just calling a bald man bald!”

“He shaved his head! Shaved it! He’s not bald! A bald person is someone whose hair doesn’t grow!”

“Grow out! Hair, hair!”

“This damned brat, really!”

Gong Mu-jin’s blood pressure was rising to the point of collapse.

“You brat! Don’t you have even the minimum respect for those who walk the path of Buddha!”

“What’s so great about that that I need to respect them?”

“It’s worthy of respect! Of course it’s worthy! Aren’t they those who distance themselves from pleasure and pursue enlightenment!”

“Hah! They’re not distancing themselves from pleasure—they’re living comfortably. They get fed, they get taught martial arts! People respect them for being Shaolin monks! What life could be more comfortable than that?”

Huh?

Now that he heard it…

When Gong Mu-jin looked back at himself with a strange expression, Musan waved his hands frantically with a flustered face.

“My master said that those Shaolin, Wudang, Taoist, and Buddhist bastards are all hypocrites. He said if Buddhist law is so good, they should just chant sutras—why learn martial arts to beat people up?”

Gong Mu-jin looked around several times even though he knew Gong Ryeong wasn’t there.

He could only hope that this nonsense wouldn’t reach Gong Ryeong’s ears.

“Ugh, damned brat.”

Gong Mu-jin stepped back as if he couldn’t handle Wei Yan-ho anymore and said to Musan.

“I can’t help you any further. You’ll have to solve this yourself.”

“…Thank you for your help.”

Musan broke into a cold sweat and took a step toward Wei Yan-ho.

‘This isn’t an ordinary benefactor.’

Having lived under Shaolin’s strict precepts, Wei Yan-ho—who spewed curses and fired off crude remarks like a machine gun whenever he opened his mouth—was a breed he had never encountered before.

If there were asuras in hell, would they feel like this?

Musan clasped his hands together and repeatedly chanted Buddha’s name. But hadn’t he already been given a mission for Shaolin by his master? This was something that had to be resolved.

“I know this is a shameless request. But I hope you can understand my feelings in having no choice but to make this request.”

“Is this a request or a threat?”

Wei Yan-ho rolled around in the cart, then—thud—fell out. Just before his body hit the ground, he spun around and landed on the earth, looking at Musan with a blank expression.

“Monk, that’s not something someone making a request should say. What kind of person making a request is so brazen? Why should I consider your position?”

“Not my position, but Shaolin’s position…”

“No, so why should I consider Shaolin’s position? The sect with the most money in the world is asking me to give them something for free because they don’t have money right now—and I should understand this? Sheesh! A beggar would be better!”

Wei Yan-ho spouted words that would have made Jang-il beam with pride as he waved his hand.

“Let’s be straightforward, very straightforward!”

Wei Yan-ho cut off Musan’s words and got to the point.

“So… you need the secret manual but can’t pay money for it, right?”

“…”

“Wow, this is highway robbery.”

“No, no! It’s not like that! I absolutely have no intention of forcibly taking that secret manual.”

“Then why are you bringing up Shaolin? Isn’t this like ‘I’m from Shaolin, so you better crawl’?”

“No! It’s not! Amitabha! I never once spoke with such intention.”

“Then this isn’t representing Shaolin’s position, but something you’re doing alone?”

“How could I dare represent Shaolin’s position? This matter is entirely something I’m doing on my own.”

If Musan had said ‘I’m representing Shaolin’s position’ here, rumors would spread that Shaolin had oppressed a child to snatch up a secret manual.

Especially when those who had even taken out loans to copy the secret manual were staring at him with ‘let’s see you try to get it for free’ looks—he could feel it vividly behind his back.

Musan’s yellow robe was getting soaked with sweat.

One wrong word and he felt like he’d fall into hell.

When had he ever walked on such thin ice?

“Well, then that’s fine. If it’s not Shaolin but you personally, I can give you a secret manual easily enough.”

“Excuse me?”

Musan blinked.

He couldn’t give it if Shaolin asked, but he would if Musan himself asked?

This wasn’t some reactionary—what on earth was he thinking with such words?

“Wait a moment.”

Before Musan could finish thinking, Wei Yan-ho went to the front of the cart and gathered something.

“Here. Just sign this.”

‘A pledge?’

He had seen people write pledges not to distribute the secret manual before.

Musan’s hand, which had been about to write the pledge with a light heart, stopped.

“…Wait a moment.”

Wei Yan-ho looked at Musan with a questioning gaze.

“If I write this, I can take the secret manual but can’t show it to other Shaolin disciples?”

Wei Yan-ho grinned and answered.

“What an obvious thing to say.”

Musan’s hand trembled violently.

Then wouldn’t taking the secret manual be meaningless? If he carelessly made a pledge and took the secret manual, he might be accused of hoarding it for himself.

“Be-benefactor.”

“Didn’t you say you didn’t come as a Shaolin representative?”

When Wei Yan-ho looked at him with a blank expression, cold sweat began forming on Musan’s forehead.

“Are you lying to me now? A monk? These days monks go around deceiving people with lies, I see? Surely someone wearing a yellow robe isn’t a corrupt monk who goes around arguing falsehoods? Right?”

Was that last “right” meaning “right” or “beggar”?

Musan, who had been focusing on useless details, shook his head vigorously and spoke.

“Of course I didn’t come to represent Shaolin. But as a Buddhist, I cannot possess what I have alone without sharing it with fellow Shaolin disciples.”

“Ah, is that so?”

Wei Yan-ho nodded.

“Well, it sounds ridiculous, but if a Buddhist should be that way, what can I do? Can’t be helped.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

“No, I’m the one who’s grateful.”

“…Excuse me?”

Wei Yan-ho scribbled something and held it out to Musan.

“Sign this.”

“What is this?”

“What else would it be? A promissory note.”

“A promissory note?”

“Don’t worry. I’m not that rigid a person. I heard there are about five hundred warrior monks living in Shaolin. So I’ll just take exactly half the price. Five hundred nyang.”

“…Fi-fi-five hundred?”

Musan’s head began spinning.

Five hundred nyang?

Five hundred nyang in gold?

Faced with an enormous sum he had never even imagined, Musan’s hands began trembling violently.

Five hundred nyang in gold—was he telling him to pay that right now?

“I gave you a big discount.”

“Be-benefactor!”

“Hey, honestly, if I give you the secret manual, all those many people will read it, so you should pay half. Or are you going to just gulp it down like highway robbers? Someone from the great Shaolin?”

Gong Mu-jin, who had been listening, burst out angrily.

“This is going too far! Where in the world does someone sell a copy—not even the original—for five hundred nyang!”

“How many people are in Mount Hua? Still, I was going to give a discount because of our friendship…”

“On second thought, five hundred nyang seems appropriate.”

“…Great Hero Gong.”

Gong Mu-jin, who had been Musan’s last hope, kept clearing his throat and began looking at the distant sky.

‘Sorry.’

If he returned after sticking close to Wei Yan-ho but failed to obtain even a single copy of the Sword Emperor’s secret manual, the sect leader might throw him directly into Plum Blossom Cave for ten years of isolation. Rather than suffer that fate, it was better to close his eyes to this small injustice(?) for now.

“Shaolin has plenty of money.”

“But don’t those people take it for just two nyang?”

“Those people won’t show it to anyone but family.”

“…”

Suddenly, something flashed through Musan’s mind.

“All Shaolin disciples are like one family!”

At Musan’s desperate strike, Wei Yan-ho clicked his tongue.

“This fellow—if you hadn’t become a monk, you’d have become a con artist. Trying to swindle me! Where is there a family of five hundred people!”

Musan’s head dropped.

This isn’t working.

As Musan weakly chanted Buddha’s name, Wei Yan-ho slowly smiled and dangled a carrot.

“Well, but that’s not entirely wrong either. Three hundred nyang. I can’t discount it any further than this.”

“But…”

“Monk, listen to me carefully. There will be no more negotiation. If you try to obtain the secret manual by other methods, you’ll have to kill me and steal it.”

“How could I have such wicked thoughts?”

“Even if the Abbot comes personally, I won’t sell it for less than three hundred nyang. Same goes for other sects. So either go and bring three hundred nyang, or give up and go back.”

Conflict began appearing on Musan’s face.

Getting the Sword Emperor’s secret manual for three hundred nyang wasn’t such a bad deal.

“But I don’t have three hundred nyang right now.”

“That’s why you need to write a promissory note.”

Wei Yan-ho grinned and held out the promissory note.

“Fairly, very fairly.”

Musan’s face went blank when he saw the promissory note Wei Yan-ho offered.

“Benefactor, this part where it says the debtor becomes the creditor Wei Yan-ho’s servant and follows him until the debt is fully repaid?”

“Isn’t that natural? Otherwise, what would I trust to lend such a large sum? If the borrower were Shaolin, I could naturally lend it just like that, but three hundred nyang is a large sum to lend to you personally, monk.”

“…This isn’t something I can decide on my own.”

“Is that so? Ugh, troublesome, but there’s no choice. Wait a moment.”

Pop!

As soon as he finished speaking, Wei Yan-ho’s body just—pop—disappeared from that spot.

“Huh!”

When Wei Yan-ho’s figure vanished in an instant, Musan looked around in shock.

“Wh-what in the world…”

He heard a tongue-clicking sound behind him.

“That’s why ghosts can’t take him away. The guy himself is more mysterious than ghosts—what ghost would take that bastard! Sheesh!”

Musan truly felt like he was possessed by a ghost.

How much time had passed?

Pop!

Wei Yan-ho appeared in that spot again. With his face full of annoyance, Wei Yan-ho held out a letter to Musan with an irritated expression.

“Here.”

“…What is this?”

“A letter your master is sending.”

“A-a letter?”

So Wei Yan-ho had chased after Master Gong Ryeong returning to Shaolin in that short time and brought back a letter?

It was unbelievable. But…

Musan received the letter with trembling hands and unfolded it.

Musan, look here.

If this secret manual spreads throughout the martial world, who knows what will happen. For the sake of the martial world, we must bring this secret manual to Shaolin as quickly as possible—even a day earlier—to research countermeasures. So obtaining the secret manual is more important than anything else.

So for now, you write the promissory note, and bring the secret manual to Shaolin. As soon as I return to Shaolin, I’ll quickly persuade the sect leader to send the money.

Until then, you move together with Young Hero Wei Yan-ho. We were planning to do that anyway, so it worked out perfectly.

If not you, who would go to hell?

“Da-damn it!”

It was the moment when the first curse word in his life burst from the mouth of the great martial artist who would later be called Master Musan.