Chapter 1779
Then, let’s check this out. (4)
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Chung Myung’s gaze darkened.
If it weren’t for a moment like this, he might have welcomed this young man who had suddenly appeared.
He might have casually thrown his arm around his shoulder, laughing as he asked, “Do you know how to drink?”
But not now.
At this moment, Chung Myung didn’t have the luxury to welcome an uninvited guest with open arms.
“Regret? I don’t know what nonsense you’re babbling about…”
Chung Myung’s voice had a sharp edge to it.
“I don’t have time to dance to your tune right now.”
He was as cold as could be, enough to send chills down the listener’s spine.
It was an inappropriate attitude towards someone who was the leader of a sect and commanded the respect of all of Western Religion(Tibet) – a situation where one could easily feel deeply insulted.
However, the Dalai Lama merely shook his head silently.
“No. As for the time – it’s not what is lacking. At least…”
Chung Myung was reflected in the unwavering eyes of the Dalai Lama.
“Not for you, Siju.”
The corners of Chung Myung’s eyes twitched faintly. They weren’t particularly strange words, but they oddly got on his nerves.
“Ha… damn it.”
Chung Myung let out a heavy sigh and tilted his head back slightly.
“This is a battlefield, you damn brat. This isn’t a place where your lofty Buddhist teachings will work. I don’t know what you want to do, but I don’t have time to be engaged in those Zen-like riddles of yours…”
“Ahem.”
At that moment, a low cough was heard. Chung Myung’s gaze slowly turned. Not to the Dalai Lama, but to another lama monk.
An elderly man with graying eyebrows and a gentle demeanor gave a faint smile.
“It’s been a long time, Dojang. Have you been well?”
“…Panchen Lama.”
“I apologize on his behalf if our sudden visit has caused you any discomfort.”
Panchen Lama pressed his palms together and bowed deeply.
Chung Myung let out a short sigh and then gave a slight bow in return.
Unlike the Dalai Lama, who seemed somehow empty and whom he couldn’t bring himself to warm up to, Panchen Lama was someone even Chung Myung couldn’t help but respect.
Panchen Lama spoke with a serious look in his eyes.
“However, Dojang, we did not come all the way from distant Tibet without reason.”
“…”
“Our master has something he must convey to you. Regardless of status or position, could you not consider the efforts of guests who have traveled from afar? It will only take a moment of your time.”
At that moment, Chung Myung’s gaze shifted to the Dalai Lama… more precisely, to his feet. Even at a glance, they were blistered and cracked, in a terrible condition. It was clear without asking how much hardship he had endured to arrive here.
His feet were so battered that an ordinary person would find it hard to even stand, which had contrasted sharply with his unwavering and composed eyes.
Even someone like Chung Myung found it difficult to turn them away at this point.
“…I can’t understand.”
He finally let out a long sigh and replied.
“Just know that this is not a situation where I can show proper hospitality.”
“Of course.”
Chung Myung looked directly at the Dalai Lama.
“Alright then, let’s hear it. What exactly is it you wish to say?”
❀
“Why is everyone so frantic?”
Given the circumstances, it might not be so strange for the Alliance to be bustling. However, this time, something seemed a bit off.
Rather than being busy, everyone looked more or less flustered.
“Those Sapaeryeon’s scoundrels would be thrilled to see us like this. No matter what happens, we need to stay calm… Huh, what the-? Lord Tang?”
Jo Geol, who had been clicking his tongue and grumbling with a displeased expression, dropped his jaw wide open.
Because among the people running around as if struck by lightning, he saw a familiar face.
That man wouldn’t make such a fuss even if a lightning bolt struck him on the head.
Then why on earth?
“Is something going on?”
“The Dalai Lama has arrived.”
“Who did you say has arrived?”
“The Dalai Lama.”
“Who is that?”
Yoon Jong covered his face as if feeling dizzy. Then, gritting his teeth, he tried to answer calmly.
“That…! The Lord of Potala Palace in Tibet. We saw him on our way back from the Northern Sea, remember?”
“Oh, that kid from back then? Why has he come?”
Yoon Jong seriously considered whether he should sew Jo Geol’s mouth shut right then. At that moment, Jo Geol clapped his hands.
“Ah, right! Sahyeong, you said back then that he was the Lord of Potala Palace.”
“…I just told you. Just now.”
“Please, listen when someone is speaking. I’m telling you right in front of you….”
“Huh? Then…?”
“Yeah?”
“Is Potala Palace joining Cheonumaeng?”
Yoon Jong was left dumbfounded.
“No, how did you come to that conclusion…?”
“If not that, then why would they bother coming all the way here in the midst of a raging war? From what I can tell, they don’t seem like bad people. Didn’t they come to lend a hand in defeating Sapaeryeon?”
Jo Gol exclaimed with admiration.
“Potala Palace is also one of the Five Outer Palaces! We needed even a cat’s paw*, and look at this stroke of luck! Wow, that’s why people should live kindly.”
“They say only two people came.”
“Uh… well, we do need even a cat’s paw.”
“I didn’t expect it would literally be a cat’s paw.”
Jo Geol smacked his lips bitterly.
‘So they didn’t come to support us after all.’
If the two were masters renowned throughout the world, that would be different. But even then, if they intended to support Cheonumaeng, they wouldn’t have come with just the two of them.
Moreover, if one of them is the Dalai Lama, it’s even less likely. Unless Potala Palace has gone mad, they wouldn’t recklessly throw a green kid into a bloody battlefield.
Unless there’s some kind of coup happening within Potala Palace, it doesn’t make sense.
“Then why on earth did they come?”
“How would I know? Everyone’s in an uproar because they can’t figure it out.”
“Ah.”
Jo Geol nodded as if he finally understood.
When someone as significant as the leader of one of the Five Outer Palaces suddenly visits without any apparent reason, it’s enough to make even someone like Tang Gunak lose his wits.
If Hwang Jong-ui in Shaanxi heard about this, he would foam at the mouth, protesting, ‘I did send a letter,’ feeling wronged. But unfortunately, the letter wasn’t properly delivered due to the chaos caused by Cheon Myeon Susa’s attack.
“So where is the Dalai Lama now?”
“He’s with Chung Myung.”
“What? Why?”
“…I keep telling you, I don’t know even if you ask me.”
Jo Geol scratched his head vigorously.
“Still, shouldn’t he meet the Alliance Leader first?”
Of course, since Chung Myung is the General in charge of Cheonumaeng, it’s not entirely strange. But somehow, it felt a bit off.
“…Could it be that he came to see Chung Myung?”
“Would they come all the way here from Tibet just to meet that one guy?”
“Right?”
Even Jo Geol thought it didn’t make sense.
“Ugh. Then what is it?”
“That might be the reason.”
At the sudden interjection, Jo Geol turned to look at Tang Soso, who was beside him.
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“They might have come to see Chung Myung Sahyeong.”
“…Why?”
“Well…”
Tang Soso trailed off. A worried expression spread across her face.
Just a little while ago, she had seen it: the sight of a young monk, an older monk, and Chung Myung entering a small tent in the corner.
‘It’s too much to be just a formal reception…’
Chung Myung’s expression she had seen was too dark and heavy.
‘I hope it’s nothing serious.’
She silently cast her gaze in that direction. The small tent in the distance somehow felt like a remote island.
❀
“I’m sorry. There’s nothing here but alcohol. If you want, I can get you some tea.”
“…”
“But I don’t know anything about tea, so you’ll have to brew it yourself.”
Panchen Lama, who had been staring intently at the lonely liquor bottle sitting there without even a cup, glanced around and inspected the inside of the tent.
In the small tent that felt cramped even for three people to sit in, there was nothing. Only a bedding laid carelessly on the floor for someone to lie down on.
Other than that, all he could see were liquor bottles scattered haphazardly and some not yet emptied.
In one corner of the desolate tent, Chung Myung leaned his back against the wall and sat down. Then he lit a lamp that seemed not to have been used for a long time. Black smoke puffed out briefly, and then light poured out, casting deep and long shadows over about half of Chung Myung’s body.
Panchen Lama felt a somewhat strange impression.
Though his appearance was desolate and haggard, somehow it seemed to suit him quite well. He even thought that this might be his true self.
The image of a weary swordsman leaning against a corner of the worn tent, a sword slung over his shoulder.
Was it the tent that has become worn out, or was it the person?
‘In such a short time…’
Panchen Lama vividly remembered the Chung Myung he had seen a few years ago.
Back then, he seemed to radiate vitality. He was full of energy and knew how to fuel himself with enthusiasm for something.
But the person before his eyes now was so faded that he doubted whether he was indeed the same person as back then.
He had thought that he was walking a difficult path, but to think that he would change so much in such a short time.
Breaking through Panchen Lama’s thoughts, Chung Myung spoke up.
“Well… if you don’t particularly need any tea, let’s get to the point.”
“…”
“You said you had something to say. Go ahead.”
The Dalai Lama, who had been steadily gazing at Chung Myung, remained silent a bit longer. But then, he moved, lightly fluttering the hem of his kasaya.
Tap.
He grasped the liquor bottle that Chung Myung had set out and slowly brought it to his lips. Chung Myung, looking slightly surprised, smirked.
“A monk drinking alcohol… Seems like Potala Palace has fallen far.”
After taking a small sip, the Dalai Lama smiled faintly.
“Indeed, alcohol is forbidden to Buddhists. However…”
The Dalai Lama looked quietly at Chung Myung and said,
“There is nothing more arrogant than for some who beggs to argue about right and wrong regarding something given out of compassion, don’t you agree?”
“…”
“That’s why I eat, no matter what it is. That’s why I drink, regardless of what it may be.”
Alms [탁발(托鉢)]**. It’s their doctrine. Chung Myung chuckled once more.
“Nice excuse. Using the pretext of begging, you can break all taboos.”
“Isn’t that so?”
“What?”
“To prohibit[금(禁)] is to reject. To encourage[권(勸)] is to desire. But so it is. No one can reject everything, and no one can obtain all they desire. To live is to break taboos and to long for what is out of reach. That is why we live, swallowing sins in the sea of suffering.”
Chung Myung narrowed his eyes and clicked his tongue in displeasure.
“Enough with the sermons. There’s no one here who wants to listen.”
“It’s not a sermon.”
The Dalai Lama’s gaze remained the same. It seemed to contain nothing, yet everything. Looking into those eyes would make one’s throat to start feelling parched.
“I simply wish to discuss life. And to discuss you.”
“Me?”
“Yes, Siju. This is about you.”
The Dalai Lama’s youthful voice quietly but clearly pierced Chung Myung’s ears.
“What is your way of living?”
“…”
The gaze of one as deep as a lake and one as turbulent as a wildfire met in the air.
“Are you saying that I break taboos and long for what I cannot reach?”
“Such is everyone’s life.”
“Then it’s nothing special. Just as everyone else does, so do I.”
“What you say is true. You are no different. But you are also different.”
“Ah, seriously, what are you talking about…?”
“Isn’t it bound to be different?”
The Dalai Lama spoke calmly.
“For those who live only one life, and for those who do not.”
Chung Myung, whose irritation had been evident, flinched. Then his eyes widened in astonishment.
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