Chapter Text
Ah-Min stepped forward to accept the silver coins and split it fairly with his big brothers, one silver coin for each person. There was redness in his face, it looked as though he would combusted sooner or later. “Thank you so much, uncle!”
Chung Myung’s emotion was relatively stable, in fact, the silver coin on his hand made him even more suspicious. He decided to probe, “Uncle, will you be willing to buy more from us? We can deliver harvest from the mountain to you every 3 days. If you have a specific harvest you are looking for, you can tell us. Although we can’t guarantee we’ll be able to find it, we’ll pay extra attention to it.”
From the way Housekeeper Myo was weighing their harvest, it did not look like he was looking for a particular plant; it looked more like he was buying without any intention and simply accepted what was there to be offered.
Perhaps, Chung Myung had missed something; or perhaps, Housekeeper Myo took pity on them and decided to help. Either way, if they could secure a deal with Housekeeper Myo, and supplied mountain harvest consistently, they would no longer need to worry about what to eat the next day.
Housekeeper Myo took a moment to think and nodded his head. “Of course, you can send more to me in the future. Our young master is particularly fond of the seasonal fruits gathered from mountains. So if you can find more of it, we are willing to pay more too.”
So it is the wild fruits, Chung Myung mentally noted.
Although he did not understand why a young master would be fond of wild fruits rather than cultivated ones, as he believed the cultivated fruits taste much better than wild fruits, everyone had their own preferences, and it was not Chung Myung’s position to comment on it.
Plus, there were indeed one or two varieties of fruits that couldn’t be cultivated in the field, only to be gathered in the wild.
“Okay, we’ll send more every 2 days.” Chung Myung promised. Now that their business was concluded, they exchanged pleasantries before deciding to leave Seong residence.
However, seemingly remembering something, Housekeeper Myo asked them to wait, then looked behind and shouted, “LIttle Jun, come here!”
His eyes settled back to the three children and said, “I might occasionally be out of the residence to do something for my young master, so the one answering the door might not always be me. In that situation, you can ask for Little Jun. He’ll know what to do. He works under me.”
Before long, a figure was seen to approach them. He was visibly younger than Housekeeper Myo, but looked older than Cheonma. He was wearing a white robe, similar to Housekeeper Myo. The only difference was Housekeeper Myo had worn outer garment to keep himself warm, while Little Jun did not.
His white robe had the pattern of red scale; similar to that of a snake, crawling from his shoulder down to his left foot; yet there was also a pattern of feets in one of the snakes. It looked more like a painting of a dragon.
At that moment, Chung Myung’s head rang; incomprehensible voices assaulted within him. His body shivers and the image of Little Jun was overlapped with something else; of a man without a smile, of a glance that caused his finger to curl into a fist.
His breath shortened, sweat rolled from the back of his neck. As Little Jun approached him, the pattern on his robe seemed to move, coming alive; and the ‘dragon’ surged toward Chung Myung’s face, then disappeared once it touched him. Chung Myung found himself choking out of breath.
“Myung-hyung?” Sensing something was wrong with Chung Myung, Ah-Min called out for him.
Ah-Min"s worried face appears in Chung Myung’s sight. However, a red dot suddenly appeared on Ah-Min’s right forehead. Then slowly, the red dot stretched into a line, fully to the left. Blood dripped from the very line itself, as though Ah-Min’s head had been sliced apart.
But Ah-Min still asked if there was something wrong with Chung Myung, as though he was perfectly fine and was not bleeding.
Cheonma also grabbed Chung Myung’s hand, frowning. “Ah-Myung, are you okay?”
Cheonma was wearing a gray robe, with patches all over the place, showing a sign of worn-out; but from his chest, a deep red pool emerged, becoming larger than before in a blink of eyes.
Little Jun approached Housekeeper Myo, a little bit displeased, but he still tactfully asked, “Myo-hyung, is there something?”
Yet in Chung Myung’s eyes, the displeased expression melted along with the skin, like candle wax dripping, revealing a rotten skeleton underneath it.
The sky transformed into a blind of red and blue hues, merging akin to a harmonious symphony, flicking and dancing in an unsettling manner.
A cloud of hairs veiled the sky as an eye parted opened in the middle of it, filled with crimson red, with no pupil.
***
Chyung Myung’s eyes opened. His fist was clenching on the blanket draped over him. Hye Yeon had rushed over to grab his shoulder, shaking to wake him up.
“Dojang! Dojang!” Hye Yeon shouted.
Chung Myung raised his hand to stop the monk, and swallowed his throat. He looked around; memories surged toward him. He remembered that he was leading disciples to Sichuan, to stopped the invasion of Demonic Cult. They had won the fight, and had a short victory feast. Tomorrow, they will return back home.
Seeing this, Hye Yeon quickly fetched a bowl of water and handed it to Chung Myung, who accepted it gratefully, moistening his parched throat.
“How long have I been out?” Chung Myung asked, his voice carried a slight hoarseness.
Hye Yeon answered. “It is past midnight. Dojang’s fever became critical a few hours ago, so I did not dare to sleep. When I sensed a fluctuation in your Qi, I immediately called for Tang-nim.”
“Seeing your situation, Tang-nim led the other Tang family members to the nearest city, to find necessary ingredients for the medicine. He mentioned Qi-induced fever is not easily treated, and would require specific materials. They should return back soon, however…”
Hye Yeon paused for a moment before continuing, “the Qi in your body suddenly stabilized. Dojang, are… are you okay?”
Hye Yeon was no medic, but he knew this situation was abnormal. Given that they knew there was another Qi settling in Chung Myung’s body, everyone had kept their guards up. However, they hadn’t expected the sudden flare-up to come and go as swiftly as the wind.
Chung Myung was similarly confused. The dream he experienced felt strangely unfamiliar yet carried a sense of nostalgia, like a memory that should belong to him but also not; like a fabrication thrust into his mind.
And that eye…
His head throbbed with pain. He could feel the Qi inside his body being stimulated, and he forcefully calmed it down. The fever persisting in his body didn’t vanish, but from what Hye Yeon said, it wasn’t as severe as a few hours ago. It had somewhat improved.
Chung Myung had a feeling that this fever would disappear when dawn came; but it would not solve the roots of the problem.
The chief commander closed his eyes. His consciousness dipped inside his dantain, and he saw no internal damage, but the Heavenly Demon’s Qi remained, existing, though seemingly a little thinner than the first time he inspected it.
His dream must have been influenced by this.
But why shown him such dream? Or was it Heavenly Demon’s memories?
That Cheonma… His name could be read in the same way as ‘Heavenly Demon’.
The ‘Cheonma’ in his dream, though was much younger, had some resemblances with the Heavenly Demon he fought a hundred years ago, yet having a completely different demeanor.
One was filled with warmth, while the other was filled with coldness. It was hard to think that they were of the same person.
While Myung-hyung… Chung Myung remembered his name was given when he entered Mount Hua, not before.
Memory fabrication?
Chung Myung didn’t believe that he and Heaven Demon had encountered each other before; where he even affectionately laid his head on his lap, while the other was stroking his head. The simple thought of it had already made his stomach churned.
The world of Kangho was vast and he heard that there were martial arts that focus more on other aspects than sword; so he didn’t dare dismiss memory fabrication as impossible. After all, Mount Hua’s sword art could create an illusion; the forbidden arts allowed the death to be returned to the living world, though in the state of being controlled.
The nostalgia can be attributed to the fact that he was playing a part in the memories, while he felt out of place because his mind felt he shouldn’t have any involvement in the memories itself.
That would make sense.
Sorting out his mind, Chung Myung reopened his eyes and looked at Hye Yeon, who was visibly trying to restrain himself from disturbing Chung Myung; he had lots of question to ask but seeing Chung Myung laid down to controlled his breathing, he dared not to disturb him at all.
But to Chung Myung, the giddiness displayed in the fallen monk was amusing.
If Abbot was to see his present state, perhaps he would have remarked in pity despite his heart filled with joy; yet his beloved disciple wore his heart on his sleeves, worrying something would befall him.
Chung Myung showed a vulnerable look and gestured his hand, asking for Hye Yeon to come closer. Hye Yeon, sensing something was wrong, promptly moved closer. When Chung Myung could reach that bald face, he quickly delivered a hard flick on his forehead.
“Ahh!” The flick wasn’t gentle at all; light smoke sizzled from the impact.
“Dojang!” Hye Yeon felt aggrieved. He had been worried to the point he was losing appetite, but he ended up receiving a solid flick on his forehead.
Chung Myung, however, laughed so hard while clutching his stomach.
“Why are you worrying as if I’m about to meet king of Yama soon? I won’t die that easily,” Chung Myung declared, trying to calm himself down, but seeing Hye Yeon’s expression again, he couldn’t help but burst into laughter once more.