Fist Demon of Mount Hua - Chapter 15

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 15. Sometimes Unexpected Guests Find Their Way—3
Hyeonso and Cheongheo emerged from Chuiyun Palace together. Mugyeong approached first and offered a bow.
“Master!”
“The Sect Leader is calling for you. Go on inside at once.”
“Understood.”
Mugyeong answered and bolted into Chuiyun Palace without hesitation.
Hyeonso’s gaze turned toward Damho.
“Let’s go.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Might we accompany you as well?”
Cheongheo’s sudden request drew a puzzled look from Hyeonso.
“Pardon? You won’t be staying at the Guest House?”
“Rather than that rigid arrangement, I would prefer to lodge at your residence if you’ll have us. Would that be possible?”
“There’s nothing preventing it, but……”
“Then I’ll impose upon your kindness without reservation.”
With the man pressing so earnestly, Hyeonso found no grounds to refuse.
“If you don’t mind the plainness of it……”
“My thanks. Yeonsoha, come along with us.”
“Yes!”
Yeonsoha fell into step behind Cheongheo as naturally as breathing.
Cheongheo smiled at Hyeonso.
“She is my student.”
“I see. This one here is my student. Pay your respects.”
Hyeonso made the introduction of Damho.
Damho offered a formal fist salute to Cheongheo.
“Damho of the Huashan sect.”
“A pleasure. You have a noble bearing—clearly you take after your master.”
“Shall we go?”
Hyeonso took the lead. Damho followed as a matter of course, with Cheongheo and Yeonsoha close behind.
Cheongheo gazed about as they walked and spoke.
“The scenery of Huashan is truly magnificent. I envy you, seeing such splendor every day.”
“I’ve heard Wudang Mountain is equally distinguished.”
“Ha! Surely no mountain compares to Huashan alone. The very form of Huashan embodies the spirit of the Huashan sect, don’t you think? Wouldn’t you say so, Yeonsoha?”
“Indeed.”
Yeonsoha nodded in agreement.
Wudang Mountain’s landscape was second to none.
Its seventy-two peaks brimmed with Spiritual Energy, and the terrain was so lovely that travelers never ceased their pilgrimages through all four seasons.
Huashan was different. Its muscular granite cliffs and peaks that pierced the sky with knife-like sharpness radiated not beauty but grandeur—a sense of majestic awe. Because of this, one could feel the keen edge of its spirit.
New landscapes kindled new emotions. Confronted with sensations she had never before experienced, Yeonsoha’s lips curved into a subtle smile.
Then her gaze, quite suddenly, fell upon Damho walking ahead. She noticed a slight limp in his gait.
‘Is he limping?’
A faint crease appeared between her brows.
Even with a body whole and uninjured, it was harder to enter the Ascension Realm than to thread a needle—such was the world of Martial Arts. For one who limped, the prospect seemed impossible.
Though his frame appeared strong enough, that limp was a fatal weakness. Yeonsoha concluded that Damho could never reach the Ascension Realm.
‘Perhaps his weakness is forgiven because he is the student of a learned one?’
Her eyes drifted toward Cheongheo. He too had noticed Damho’s limp, and his expression had grown sorrowful.
‘Pity. His talent seems far from ordinary.’
It pained him all the more because Damho was the first student of Hyeonso’s he had taken a liking to since arriving at Huashan.
But unable to reveal his feelings, he turned instead to gentle banter.
“To dwell in so fine a place must deepen one’s Tao Power considerably.”
“Tao Power? You flatter me far too much.”
Hyeonso’s face flushed and he waved his hand dismissively. His bashfulness only deepened Cheongheo’s smile.
When they finally arrived at Hyeonso’s residence, Cheongheo’s exclamations reached their peak.
“Ah! Is this the place? Truly splendid indeed. I, Cheongheo, have opened my eyes anew today. Such a scenic marvel!”
The rich fragrance of plum blossoms and the graceful vista stirred his delight unbidden. Cheongheo burst into hearty, unguarded laughter.
Once they had settled onto the platform in the courtyard, Huashan’s majestic landscape came even more vividly into view.
“It was worth imposing upon Hyeonso to see this.”
Cheongheo’s smile was genuine and unforced. Hyeonso smiled in return.
For years, Hyeonso had lingered on the periphery of the Huashan sect, marked only by the fact that he was a learned one. Until now, no one had ever sought out his residence and offered him such sincere warmth.
“Please, rest a moment. I shall prepare something for us to eat.”
“Please, sit down, Hyeonso. The scenery is lovely, the breeze is perfect—why talk of refreshments? This will be more than enough.”
What Cheongheo pulled from his waist was quite a large Gourd Vessel. Through the gap between the stopper and its mouth, a delicate fragrance drifted—unmistakably wine.
Hyeonso’s expression shifted slightly.
“That is…?”
“Do have a drink, Hyeonso.”
Cheongheo held out the vessel. Hyeonso’s face fell into visible discomfort.
“I don’t really drink….”
“It’s not wine. You’re drinking nature itself.”
Cheongheo’s words carried a curious persuasiveness that struck Hyeonso in the chest.
Hyeonso glanced sideways at Damho, who met his gaze with a stolid expression.
“I’ll show Miss Yeonsoha around Huashan.”
“Ah—yes?”
“Come with me, Miss Yeonsoha.”
Yeonsoha, perceptive enough to read the situation, nodded silently.
The two of them left the dwelling, leaving Cheongheo and Hyeonso behind.
“Ha ha ha!”
Cheongheo’s laughter echoed after them.
Yeonsoha spoke first.
“I apologize. It’s only because of our master….”
“Not at all.”
“He’s fine in every other way, but wine—he loves it far too much.”
You needn’t apologize to me. If your master is content, then I have no complaint.”
“Thank you for understanding. The truth is, even back at the main compound, he causes quite a stir.”
If Cheongheo had a single flaw, it was his devotion to wine. He’d been warned by the sect leader more than once and scolded by the elders, yet no one had ever managed to break him of the habit.
The two walked in silence for a time.
Damho was starkly taciturn. His reticence weighed on Yeonsoha, so she ventured to speak first.
“When did you join the Huashan sect, Damho?”
“Six years ago.”
“That’s not so long ago.”
“No.”
“Have you been with your master ever since your initiation?”
“Yes.”
“Doesn’t it get lonely? Living in such a remote place like this must feel terribly isolating.”
“Having my master here is enough.”
“I see. You’re quite devoted to him.”
……
Damho offered no reply, yet Yeonsoha perceived much between the silence.
‘Damho’s relationship with the Huashan sect cannot be so simple.’
The isolated quarters told her as much; Mugyeong’s stiffness toward Damho spoke volumes.
Yeonsoha was the Wudang sect’s first female disciple in many years. Her martial talent was exceptional.
Her brilliance was renowned throughout the Wudang sect, and she enjoyed the collective favor of its elder masters.
Cheongheo had not brought Yeonsoha merely for politeness. By visiting Huashan in person, she would broaden her horizons—a measure of how much faith he placed in her future.
Yeonsoha followed Damho through the mountain’s many paths, her keen eyes drinking in every detail. They glimmered like starlight.
Before long, darkness settled over the peak of Huashan.
“We should head back now.”
“Follow me.”
Damho led the way down the darkening mountain path.
Huashan’s slopes were vertiginous—one misplaced step meant a plunge of thousands of feet into the abyss. Yet Damho navigated this treacherous ground with an uneven gait, moving with assured certainty.
“Damho.”
“Yes?”
“Is it not uncomfortable?”
Though her subject lay unspoken, Damho understood perfectly what she was asking.
“I’ve grown accustomed to it.”
“I’m glad.”
Sincerity infused Yeonsoha’s voice. Yet Damho felt nothing in response.
Everyone who saw his legs wore expressions of concern. He had endured countless glances shadowed by pity, by sorrow, by barely concealed disdain—until feeling itself had gone numb.
Whether Yeonsoha’s words were genuine or merely performed, it no longer mattered. Such things could no longer touch him.
Damho led the way, and they soon reached Hyeonso’s dwelling.
“You’re back?”
The figure greeting them was Hyeonso, his face flushed crimson, his tongue slurred. His eyes had gone glassy—uncertain how much wine he’d drunk.
“Master.”
“Hah! Your master has had just a touch of spirits. Hic!”
Hyeonso, who had been hiccupping, suddenly collapsed forward onto the bench and lost consciousness.
Cheongheo’s expression grew troubled.
“And I barely gave him anything…”
It was remarkable—Hyeonso had drunk scarcely three cups before succumbing to intoxication, his tongue loosening into rambling speech.
One name appeared far more frequently than any other in his murmurs: Damho. His affection for the boy was plainly written across every slurred word.
Cheongheo’s face flickered with an odd expression, almost wounded.
“Forgive me.”
“Not at all.”
Damho hoisted the unconscious Hyeonso onto his back and bowed respectfully to Cheongheo.
“The adjoining room is vacant, sir. There are blankets and pillows there.”
“Not needed. This bench is my bed. With such a view spread before me, why would I confine myself to some stuffy chamber?”
Cheongheo patted the bench beneath him with his palm.
Damho’s gaze turned toward Yeonsoha.
“Then perhaps you should rest inside, Miss Yeonsoha.”
“I will. Thank you.”
“Then…”
Damho offered a slight bow and withdrew into the room.
The moment they were alone, Cheongheo’s complexion shifted entirely. The warm flush of wine that had seemed so genuine only moments before vanished like morning mist—he was suddenly his usual self again.
His gaze fell upon Yeonsoha.
“Well? What did you make of him?”
“He seemed unremarkable.”
“Unremarkable?”
“His leg troubles him, yet it poses no great obstacle to daily life. His temperament appears quite cool, but hardly poses a threat.”
“You still have much to learn.”
“What do you mean, sir?”
A subtle shift crossed Yeonsoha’s eyes.
At the questioning look in her gaze, Cheongheo turned his head toward the great rock face across from them.
“Do you see it?”
“See what?”
Yeonsoha’s expression clouded with confusion.
A small circle, drawn at the height of a man’s shoulder, with a deep depression carved into its center. And three paces away on the ground, the mark of a footprint.
Cheongheo’s eyes seemed to see something ancient inscribed there—a scene from long ago, rendered vivid by memory.
“That boy is not the fragile thing requiring protection that you imagine. How could it be right to pity one who practices the Manyrenfold Tempering?”
“I see…”
“Huashan indeed. Both high and fathomless.”
Cheongheo gazed into Huashan’s night sky.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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