Episode 205: The Talent Show
After witnessing the cremation ceremony of Master Damjeong, Tang Mujin and his companions left Shaolin Temple. The monks of Shaolin, without exception, came out to see them off.
When they had entered the Sima family estate, there were four of them. But as they left Shaolin, their number had grown to five. As expected, Hong Geolge had decided to stay with Wang Jincheng for a while.
As they walked on, Tang Mujin’s group learned something new from Hong Geolge.
“Master Damjeong was the previous abbot of Shaolin?”
“That’s what I heard. I found out from Nahan Tang, the deputy head.”
Tang Mujin, who had never known who the previous abbot was, took it in stride. But Namgung Myung and Hyun Gong looked puzzled.
“I thought the previous abbot was Master Seongak.”
“Apparently, Master Seongak was succeeded by Master Damjeong. But because Master Damjeong’s disciple, the prodigy monk, surpassed his achievements so early, he didn’t remain abbot for long.”
With a disciple surpassing the master, it would have been difficult for Master Damjeong to hold onto the position.
In truth, even without the prodigy monk, Master Damjeong would have struggled to maintain his role due to his inner turmoil.
Hyun Gong pondered for a moment before asking Hong Geolge, “Didn’t you say you learned some strange martial arts from Master Damjeong?”
Hong Geolge frowned, displeased with Hyun Gong’s choice of words. “Strange martial arts?”
“Namgung Myung said Master Damjeong was a bit odd. If you learned martial arts from someone like that, especially while he was drunk, it can’t be normal.”
Hong Geolge bristled, ready to explain just how extraordinary and profound the Drunken Eight Immortals technique was.
But to do so, he would have to reveal all of Master Damjeong’s overly human—perhaps slightly unsavory—traits.
Instead, Hong Geolge decided to compromise. “Well, the Drunken Eight Immortals isn’t your run-of-the-mill martial art. It’s unique, to say the least. Why do you ask?”
“If you learned from the same master as the prodigy monk, doesn’t that make you martial brothers?”
Hong Geolge hesitated. “Technically, having the same master would make us martial brothers. But the prodigy monk wouldn’t see it that way. It would mess up the hierarchy.”
“Why not twist the hierarchy a bit more for fun?”
“How?”
“Take Wang Jincheng as your official disciple. Then he’d be on the same level as the core figures of Shaolin.”
Wang Jincheng was only fourteen. The idea of a young boy being on par with Shaolin’s key figures was astonishing.
Namgung Myung sidled up to Wang Jincheng, coaxing him. “Wang Jincheng, since you’ve learned internal energy techniques from Hong Geolge, you’re practically his disciple. How about joining the Buddhist order and getting some respect?”
Namgung Myung and Hyun Gong’s faces were alight with a mischievous gleam, eager to sow chaos in Shaolin.
Seeing Wang Jincheng tempted by the idea, Hong Geolge quickly intervened. “Jincheng, don’t get caught up in their nonsense. Age differences make hierarchy less important. Besides, I can’t even claim to be Master Damjeong’s official disciple.”
Wang Jincheng looked a bit disappointed, but at least he understood.
Tang Mujin, observing the scene, chuckled and asked Hong Geolge, “So, did you make any progress while at Shaolin?”
Hyun Gong and Namgung Myung perked up, eager for Hong Geolge’s response. The air was thick with a mix of anticipation, disappointment, and playfulness.
Hong Geolge wore a complex expression. “Of course, I made progress. I just haven’t broken through the proverbial wall yet.”
“Hmm.”
“But I feel it. With the right opportunity, I could definitely reach the next level.”
“Really?”
Many martial artists, like Hong Geolge, never manage to break through that wall before their time runs out.
But Tang Mujin refrained from mentioning this, knowing Hong Geolge was already anxious enough.
Of course, Tang Mujin was the only one who held back.
“Master Baek Seon of the Wudang Sect reached the first rank at seventeen and celebrated his sixtieth birthday unchanged four years ago. Truly unyielding like a pine tree.”
“Don’t worry, Hong Geolge. If your skills are too high, it might be inconvenient when begging. It’s better to be approachable. Besides, being first rank is perfect for eliciting sympathy.”
Hong Geolge glared at the two who seemed devoid of human empathy.
As they left Henan and headed south toward the Yangtze River, Namgung Myung’s demeanor became oddly cautious. He spoke less and frequently scanned his surroundings as if uneasy.
“What’s up with him lately?” Hyun Gong asked.
Tang Mujin replied nonchalantly, “We’re near Anhui Province. He’s probably worried about running into someone from the Namgung family.”
As they traveled further south, Namgung Myung grew increasingly cautious.
But at some point, his demeanor began to change. The anxiety faded, replaced by an inexplicable excitement and anticipation.
It was a curious shift, especially since they were nearing the Namgung family estate, where caution should have been paramount.
Finally, Tang Mujin asked Namgung Myung, “Is something going on?”
“Why do you ask?”
“You seem to be expecting something.”
“Expecting? No, nothing like that. Oh, by the way, I have something to ask.”
“What is it?”
“We’re planning to take a boat from the Yangtze to return to Sichuan, right?”
“That’s right.”
“I have some personal business to attend to. How about we split up here and meet at a dock near the Yangtze?”
It was a simple enough proposal. Both Namgung Myung and Tang Mujin were familiar with the area.
But Tang Mujin felt a strange unease. The phrase “personal business” seemed suspicious.
The proximity to the Namgung family. Personal business.
Suddenly, a story came to mind.
Tang Mujin immediately pieced everything together.
“You’re not planning to sneak into the Namgung estate and steal the Xuanyuan Sword, are you?”
“Steal? I’m just planning to inherit it a bit early.”
Tang Mujin felt a wave of dizziness.
The group had a tendency not to stop each other’s foolish antics. In fact, they often encouraged them, as they made for great stories.
But even foolishness had its limits.
“You know, you might not just lose an arm. You could actually die.”
“A Namgung warrior doesn’t fear death.”
“Fighting to the death is one thing. Dying from stupidity is another.”
“Hmm…”
Reluctantly, Namgung Myung nodded, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced.
In the end, to keep Namgung Myung in check, Tang Mujin decided to alter their route slightly, steering them away from the Namgung estate.
Instead of heading straight south, they would veer southwest and pass through Wuchang.
Hearing this, Hyun Gong showed interest.
“Wuchang, huh? The timing’s perfect.”
“Why? What’s in Wuchang?”
“There’s a martial arts tournament held there this year.”
Namgung Myung, Hong Geolge, and even Wang Jincheng nodded in understanding. But Tang Mujin had never heard of such a tournament.
“A martial arts tournament?”
“Chang’an, Luoyang, and Wuchang take turns hosting it. This year it’s Wuchang’s turn. Young talents from various sects gather to compete. Only those under thirty can participate.”
Tang Mujin asked, “Why the age limit?”
“Without it, the core members or even the heads of sects would have to compete. Losing in such a tournament would tarnish their sect’s reputation. But young talents can lose without much consequence. It’s expected for them to rise and fall each year.”
“Hmm.”
“Plus, without the age limit, the same people would compete every year. Someone could win repeatedly, like if our Wudang Sect’s Master Youngbo won for thirty years straight… It’d be predictable and boring for the audience.”
Hyun Gong subtly endorsed the idea of Master Youngbo being the best in the world, but Namgung Myung and Hong Geolge didn’t seem to agree.
Tang Mujin noticed the clear anticipation in Hyun Gong’s voice.
“Hyun Gong, do you want to participate in the tournament?”
“Not necessarily, but if the opportunity arises, why not? There’s honor and prizes involved.”
Hyun Gong tried to entice Tang Mujin with the prospect of prizes, but Tang Mujin cut him off firmly.
“No. We need to return to Sichuan. We’ve been delayed too long.”
For a moment, Hyun Gong considered arguing that the person waiting in Sichuan was Tang Mujin’s wife, not his. But he wisely held his tongue. Hyun Gong’s instincts told him not to defy the one in charge.
Reluctantly, Hyun Gong nodded. “Alright.”
“If you want to join the tournament, come back next year or the year after. Got it?”
“Okay.”
Hyungong looked deeply concerned, but he didn’t voice any objections to Tang Mujin’s plan.
As they neared Wuchang, an unexpected incident occurred. Wang Jincheng, who had been walking just fine the day before, suddenly collapsed.
“What happened? Jincheng, are you okay?”
Tang Mujin rushed over and checked Wang Jincheng’s pulse.
‘His pulse is fast and shallow. Children’s pulses are usually quick, but this is unusual.’
‘His body temperature is high. And I don’t think he’s urinated today.’
‘His legs are swollen, and there’s a yellow coating on his tongue.’
Tang Mujin quickly completed his diagnosis.
“It’s nothing serious. He’s just exhausted.”
Wang Jincheng wasn’t so young that he couldn’t leave his parents’ side, nor was he pampered like a child from a wealthy family.
‘But we’ve been walking too much lately.’
A thought suddenly crossed his mind.
“Hong Geolge, you took Jincheng out every night to teach him internal energy techniques, didn’t you?”
“Uh, yeah, I did.”
Wang Jincheng had been keeping pace with Tang Mujin’s group from dawn till dusk. Normally, he’d be too tired to do anything but sleep at night, but Hong Geolge had been training him in internal energy techniques during those hours.
While the intention to build up his energy reserves after recovering from his illness was understandable, the rigorous training must have been a huge strain on Jincheng’s body. Especially with the recent heat, it was a wonder he hadn’t collapsed sooner.
“You should’ve given him some time to rest. Rest is as important as training.”
“I thought building up his energy would make him feel lighter, so I figured it was better this way…”
Hong Geolge looked sheepish, realizing his mistake.
Just then, Wang Jincheng regained consciousness, and Tang Mujin handed him some water.
“Jincheng, when did you start feeling unwell? It doesn’t seem like a recent thing.”
“I think it’s been about four or five days since I started feeling heavy.”
“You should’ve said something if you were tired.”
“I thought I could hold on a bit longer… I’m sorry.”
Wang Jincheng apologized, looking unsure of himself. His reluctance to show weakness and his oddly mature demeanor reminded Tang Mujin of Hong Geolge.
Tang Mujin patted Jincheng’s head gently.
“Next time, speak up if you’re struggling. Don’t be stubborn about it, okay?”
“Yes.”
At Tang Mujin’s nod, Hong Geolge lifted Wang Jincheng onto his back.
Tang Mujin sighed after a moment of contemplation.
“We have no choice. If we rush to board a boat while he’s unwell, it could cause problems. Let’s rest in Wuchang for a few days.”
Hyungong nodded, looking regretful yet oddly pleased.
Unlike the struggling areas near Songshan, where the harvest had failed, Wuchang seemed unchanged from their last visit. Merchants from all over bustled about, and the crops appeared to be doing well.
After all, just because the harvest failed near the northern edge of Henan doesn’t mean it would affect Hubei’s crops. The land of Zhongyuan is vast.
Tang Mujin mused as he surveyed the surroundings.
‘If merchants can travel long distances easily, the people of Henan wouldn’t have to starve.’
If they could sail to Henan, merchants could supply food more easily, but Henan isn’t connected to the Yangtze River. Fortunately, the Yellow River passes near Henan, so if merchants could bring supplies via the Yellow River, it would greatly help them endure the famine.
As soon as they arrived in Wuchang, Hyungong disappeared, likely intending to participate in a martial arts tournament during their stay.
Half a day later, Hyungong returned, looking utterly dejected.
Tang Mujin asked, “What happened?”
“The registration’s closed. They said even the preliminaries are over.”
Unlike Hyungong, Namgung Myung didn’t seem disappointed at all. In fact, he looked quite excited.
Namgung Myung stood up and declared, “As Confucius said, watching the scuffles of amateurs is more entertaining than the battles for the title of the world’s best.”
Everyone’s eyes turned to Namgung Myung, whose eyes sparkled with anticipation.
“Get up. We need to go watch the antics of these so-called first-rate fighters.”