<Namgung Myung’s Shock>
All eyes were fixed on Cheon Kyung-gae Hong Gyeon. It wasn’t unusual for someone arriving late to an event to draw attention, but the tension in the air was palpable, far beyond the norm.
Most people simply thought, “Well, he is the leader, after all. He couldn’t possibly skip the funeral of the chief.”
But a select few, like Dang Moo-jin, Namgung Myung, Hyun Gong, and others who knew Cheon Kyung-gae Hong Gyeon, were bewildered.
The rumor of Hong Gyeon’s death wasn’t just idle gossip. There were many witnesses, and even Daejonggae Paeng Cheon had confirmed it. A master like Left Guardian Yeon Sa-ok had claimed to have killed Hong Gyeon with his own hands.
Yet here was Cheon Kyung-gae Hong Gyeon, appearing on Mount Wudang. How could this be happening?
Namgung Myung was so stunned that his mind went blank. However, Dang Moo-jin and Hyun Gong were different. They desperately tried to piece things together, searching for a faint possibility.
“Could it be? Is the remnant of the Demon Sect trying to infiltrate the martial world by impersonating Hong Gyeon?”
It wasn’t entirely impossible. Dang Moo-jin and his friends had spent days racking their brains to develop a counter-technique. Perhaps someone from the Demon Sect had created a similar skill.
They scrutinized Hong Gyeon’s face, looking for any small discrepancies.
But after a short while, their thoughts shifted.
“No, that’s not an imposter.”
It wasn’t Hong Gyeon’s appearance that convinced them, but his expression. He was clearly tense, trying hard to mask his anxiety with a facade of calm, his eyes darting nervously. No spy could mimic such genuine unease.
“There’s no way there could be two people as clueless as Hong Gyeon in this world…”
So what was really going on? And how should they respond? Dang Moo-jin and Hyun Gong racked their brains, but no answers came.
According to Daejonggae Gaeng Cheon, Hong Gyeon had been asleep for half a month. As soon as he awoke and gathered his strength, he headed straight for Mount Wudang.
“My friends might grumble about my late return.”
When he arrived at the Wudang Sect, he sensed something was amiss. There were many people, but no voices, and the air was heavy.
As he got closer, he saw people gathered with somber expressions.
“I don’t know what’s going on, but I should probably join in.”
But someone had already noticed his presence.
“The leader of Yongdu is here.”
With a whisper, hundreds of heads turned to look at Hong Gyeon. The sight was enough to instill a sense of dread.
The gazes directed at him were filled with complex emotions—relief, resentment, even a hint of disdain. Hong Gyeon involuntarily shrank back.
”…Why?”
He looked to Namgung Myung, Hyun Gong, and Dang Moo-jin for help. But contrary to his expectations, they were as frozen as statues, offering no assistance.
“What should I do?”
The first thing was to understand the situation. Hong Gyeon tried to see what the people had been looking at moments before. His instincts told him the clue lay there.
He found a table with several name tablets on it. Among them were items like the Left Guardian’s sword and a familiar green staff.
“The Green Bamboo Staff!”
But then he saw a familiar name on one of the tablets behind the staff.
[Hong Joo-san]
Hong Gyeon was as shocked as if he’d turned to stone. He realized what he had forgotten.
The day he met Daepunggae, he had thought he must let his friends know he was alive. But after sleeping for half a month, he had completely forgotten.
”…What do I do?”
Like anyone else, Hong Gyeon had never considered how to act at his own funeral.
At that moment, Paeng Moo-geum, the head of the Hebei Plain, spoke to him.
“Better late than never. It must have been a tough decision to come.”
True to his fiery nature, Paeng Moo-geum couldn’t completely hide his mixed feelings. And he wasn’t done.
“So, what kept you from attending the funeral of the chief of Yongdu from the start? You should have been here from the beginning…”
Some of the sect members found Paeng Moo-geum’s words a bit harsh, but no one stopped him. After all, he was practically a father figure who could afford to speak bluntly to Hong Gyeon.
Hong Gyeon’s palms were sweaty. He needed to think carefully before speaking.
He racked his brain, but no suitable answer came. Unfortunately, Hong Gyeon wasn’t particularly clever or adept at handling crises.
He glanced at Hyun Gong, silently pleading for help.
“Hyun Gong, help me!”
But Hyun Gong, along with Mu-gwan and Gong Myung, were too stunned to react.
In that space, Hong Gyeon confronted a small version of Hyun Gong within himself.
Was there really a Hyun Gong in his mind, or was it just a part of himself taking Hyun Gong’s form? He couldn’t tell, but he found both possibilities slightly unsettling.
The inner Hyun Gong whispered.
“That’s not fair. I can’t have people pointing fingers at me as the leader of the sect. Besides, weren’t you supposed to help me out of this mess?”
The inner Hyun Gong shook his head.
Inner shame? Did that even matter? Besides, he was already in an embarrassing situation, so he felt he had no choice.
“Fine! I can handle that!”
The small Hyun Gong in his mind smiled. Hong Gyeon realized that he might have crossed a point of no return.
The inner Hyun Gong spoke with a hint of ambition.
“Then what is it, if not a crisis?”
At that moment, a thrilling sensation coursed through Hong Gyeon’s body, like a bolt of lightning striking from his head to his toes.
It was a moment of realization.
Yes, Hong Gyeon had an epiphany. He understood how people viewed Hong Gyeon and how they saw him. And he realized how much he stood to gain.
Hong Gyeon’s consciousness resurfaced.
Amazingly, all of this happened in just two breaths. Hong Gyeon gave a slight shiver, steadied his breathing, and spoke to Paeng Moo-geum in a calm voice.
”…I was unaware of the funeral. But by a stroke of luck, I managed to attend Hong Dae-hyup’s funeral.”
“How could the leader of the sect, where all the news of the martial world converges, not know about Hong Dae-hyup’s funeral?”
Hong Gyeon slowly shook his head and pulled at his collar, revealing the center of his chest. A few people gasped.
“That’s…”
A deep, dark bruise still covered Hong Gyeon’s chest. It was clearly no ordinary wound. It was evident he had rushed here without fully recovering from a life-threatening injury.
Hong Gyeon adjusted his attire with a bitter smile.
“I was recuperating, trying to continue the life Hong Dae-hyup saved. He saved my life, but couldn’t save his own.”
Paeng Moo-geum’s voice, in response, was unmistakably softened.
”…Was there something I didn’t know?”
“Not long ago, Hong Dae-hyup saved me from danger, sustaining severe internal injuries in the process. I was also gravely injured, but he was in a far worse state. Given his easygoing nature, he probably didn’t show it, so no one knew…”
The first realization Hong Gyeon had was that he could now praise himself without worrying about others’ opinions.
To others, it didn’t even seem like self-praise. It was simply a situation where everyone was lauding Hong Gyeon.
“He must have needed a long recovery, but Hong Dae-hyup set out on a long journey to contribute to the battle, without even fully recovering. Didn’t you say he was punished by the Left Guardian?”
Hong Gyeon wiped away his somber expression.
“I assure you, if Master Hong hadn’t been injured internally, he wouldn’t have fallen to someone like Zuo Hobeom…”
“Really? I don’t mean to disrespect the deceased, but I always thought Master Hong wasn’t quite like that…”
“It was only because of his internal injuries that he couldn’t show his true abilities. Few people know this, but Master Hong was on the verge of reaching a level beyond the extraordinary at a young age.”
Hong Gyeolgae’s second realization was that there weren’t many who doubted the achievements of the deceased. If a lie was built on a foundation of truth, it was even more convincing.
Most martial artists lacked the discernment to accurately gauge the skills of those beyond the extraordinary level.
As expected, people seemed to believe Hong Geon’s story without question. Stories supporting Hong Gyeolgae’s claims began to circulate.
“Well, now that you mention it… Master Hong’s skills did seem a bit lacking compared to his peers. So that’s why.”
“I always thought his achievements were surprisingly outstanding compared to other top masters. Turns out it was all because of his internal injuries.”
Hong Gyeolgae made a mental note of the faces of those whispering. Some noticed the unusual glint in Cheongwanggae Hong Geon’s eyes, but they misinterpreted it as genuine respect for Master Hong.
”…So Master Hong was that resolute. If that’s the case, he should have been the leader. The elders and judges really missed the mark…”
Peng Mugum spoke hastily, then quickly corrected himself, startled by his own words.
“No, I didn’t mean to belittle you, Cheongwanggae. I just meant that Master Hong was truly remarkable.”
Hong Gyeolgae shook his head.
“I didn’t take the leader’s position from him. Master Hong was simply too humble and declined the position, naturally passing it to me. Every time people call me the leader, I feel so embarrassed.”
As he spoke, Hong Gyeolgae let tears fall like raindrops.
“The heavens are cruel. How could they take someone like him and leave someone like me behind…”
Hearing this, Peng Mugum became even more flustered.
“No, no, that’s not what I meant. Everyone acknowledges your worth as a leader, Cheongwanggae. I spoke out of turn. I apologize. This mouth of mine never learns, no matter how old I get…”
Peng Mugum said, even mimicking hitting his own mouth. Only then did Hong Gyeolgae slowly nod, forgiving him. He felt a sense of satisfaction.
Hong Gyeolgae looked around. The dissatisfaction had vanished from people’s faces, replaced by a sense of shame. They felt embarrassed for having doubted the humble Cheongwanggae Hong Geon, even for a moment.
This was Hong Gyeolgae’s fourth realization: that his devotion to ‘Hong Gyeolgae’ would appear as humility to others.
By praising himself, he could elevate his name and showcase his humility. As the voice in his mind had said, this was indeed a great opportunity.
After enjoying the crowd’s reaction for a moment, Hong Gyeolgae approached his memorial tablet and picked up the green bamboo staff. The scene was so meaningful that everyone held their breath, waiting for him to speak.
Hong Gyeolgae began, “In honor of Master Hong Chusan, the Guiding Light of New Paths, I will make this green bamboo staff a sacred relic of our sect. I will live in a way that honors him and pass this staff to the next leader.”
As he finished speaking, someone began to clap softly. The applause, though unusual for a funeral, grew louder until it filled the room.
The martial artists of the orthodox sects repeated the name of the young hero who had passed. They sincerely hoped for a bright future under the young and humble leader.
Hong Gyeolgae quietly observed the emotions around him, savoring the small tremors the applause created. He was deeply satisfied.
Just then, a voice from Namgung Myung reached him.
But Namgung Myung’s voice carried only a deep sigh. Hong Gyeolgae felt a bit deflated.
Then, Tang Mujin’s voice followed.
After one last look at the memorial tablet, Hong Gyeolgae set off towards Hyuncheondang with a determined expression.