Heavenly Demon of the Huashan Sect - Chapter 221

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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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Chapter 221
Cheon Hui’s journey had proceeded without incident.
More than that—the group was enjoying the road more than they had in a long time.
From the moment they departed, Cheon Hui shed his sect robes and made a point of visiting every famous inn in Henan he’d never managed to reach before, eating and drinking his fill with unbridled pleasure.
And so several days passed.
As the party headed westward toward Huashan, they arrived safely at Dengfeng County in Henan Province.
The group had decided to spend one night at an inn called Eun Cheong, and after unpacking his belongings, Cheon Hui gazed out through the open window.
“Hmm, are there usually this many people around?”
Perhaps it was the broad daylight.
Or perhaps something else was at work.
The streets were crammed with people.
So many, in fact, that carriages couldn’t even enter this thoroughfare—they had to stay at distant inns instead.
“But what’s strange is, there are so many martial artists gathered here, yet not one of them seems to be avoiding anything.”
Cheon Hui’s gaze swept across the crowd.
The more he looked, the stranger it seemed.
Among the tangled mass of people in the streets were those who openly carried swords or spears—clearly martial artists at a glance.
Ordinary folk would normally grow fearful at the sight of such men approaching and hurry to clear the way.
To avoid any entanglement.
But none of that was happening here.
The common people paid them no mind as they passed by, showing no concern whatsoever.
Some merchants were even hawking their wares directly to these martial artists.
“You there, handsome youth!”
A young man with an obviously expensive sword at his waist and a hero’s headband shook his head and looked around bewildered before speaking.
“Are you speaking to me, sir?”
“Well, who else would I be talking about? There’s no other handsome youth in this place. Come closer now, and try just one of these sweetmeats. They’re quite sweet, I assure you!”
The sweetmeat merchant, evidently accustomed to dealing with martial artists, chattered away without pause and completely enchanted the gullible youth.
Clink—clink—
Shortly after, having extracted a considerable sum from the naive young man, the merchant chuckled heartily and handed over the sweetmeats.
“I’ll wrap up the rest separately for you. When you give them to a pretty girl later, she’ll be absolutely smitten.”
Watching the youth walk away laden with sweetmeats, Cheon Hui rested his chin on his palm and let out a quiet laugh.
“Well now, actually running a con like that right in front of martial artists—that takes some nerve.”
It was amusing.
These Kangho martial artists lived in a world where steel was mightier than law. One careless word to them could easily cost you your life.
And yet here, ordinary people were brazenly pressuring martial artists.
“By rights, steel should have flown already…”
Cheon Hui took a quick survey of the other martial artists.
Most seemed accustomed to such circumstances and let the matter pass, but a few—like the sweetmeat youth—had been fleeced completely.
Though not all were so easily swayed.
Several displayed annoyed expressions toward the merchants hawking their wares.
Some, irritated by the relentless solicitation, even let off a faint aura of killing intent.
Yet even those showing such violent reactions refrained from hasty action.
If anything, they seemed to back off.
“I must decline.”
Cheon Hui withdrew his arm from the window sill as he watched a martial artist raise his hand and refuse the offer.
“That’s not it at all.”
He turned his gaze from the crowd toward Songshan rising in the distance.
“It’s got to be because of that place.”
Compared to the steep, towering heights of Huashan, Songshan was gentler in its slopes yet far more majestic in bearing.
Looking upon such grand scenery, one could scarcely doubt its right to be called a sacred mountain.
But what rose even more impressively and enormously on Shaolin Peak, the lesser peak of Songshan, was something else entirely.
Sorim Temple!
The apex of Kangho, boasting a thousand years of history, stood there.
“They say we’re equal as part of the Nine Major Sects, but Sorim’s renown is overwhelming.”
From just observing the streets, one could discern what Sorim’s standing was in Zhongyuan.
Cheon Hui scratched the back of his head.
“Sigh, this is why a sect needs strong power. Look how these reckless martial artists can’t cause a fuss at all.”
Even among the equal Nine Major Sects, vast differences existed.
While Wudang had the Bloodless Territory, Sorim had transformed Dengfeng County itself into a land free from blood and strife—a Bloodless Territory.
“They’re all so obedient, it’s almost pleasant to watch. Huashan’s surroundings ought to be like this too…”
Cheon Hui clicked his tongue at the memory of the dark swordsmen lurking in Hwaam County and the heterodox sects rampaging freely through Shenxi.
“That’s going to take time. Even if Huashan Sect’s history is longer than most other schools, it’s still shorter than Sorim’s, and we nearly collapsed once before.”
There was no need to think deeply about it.
That was the reality.
“Should I push even harder in my training? If I just keep myself alive and push the limits, I feel like I’d make rapid progress….”
Cheon Hui rose from his seat, thinking thoughts that would have horrified the disciples back at Huashan Sect.
“Ah, never mind. I’ll think about it later. For now, let’s get some food.”
He closed the window that had been wide open and moved toward the door.
Creak—
The moment he opened the door, his expression naturally darkened.
“Damn, it’s packed.”
The instant he passed through the crowded first floor of the inn and made his way up to the second floor.
“Senior!”
Dan Mok Lin, who had already claimed a table, waved at him when she spotted him.
Cheon Hui walked toward her and spoke.
“You unpacked quickly.”
“There wasn’t much to unpack.”
“Is that so?”
Cheon Hui sat across from Dan Mok Lin.
The table was already prepared with food, wine bottles, and cups.
“This looks delicious.”
A sparkle of interest gleamed in Cheon Hui’s eyes.
Just as he was about to pour wine into a cup.
“Tsk, quite the crowd today.”
A voice clicked its tongue.
Cheon Yi Gae, who had arrived on the second floor last, sauntered over and sat down, then looked out through the open window.
“How was today destined to be that day.”
Dan Mok Lin asked curiously toward him, as if he knew something.
“What kind of day is it?”
“It’s the day Sorim conducts the Alms-giving Ceremony.”
“Really?”
Her voice rose slightly.
Seeing her excitement like that of a child, Cheon Hui paused as he poured and looked toward Cheon Yi Gae, quirking his mouth.
“What day is that?”
Cheon Yi Gae’s expression turned bewildered.
“You don’t know that either?”
“I don’t know, so I’m asking.”
At Cheon Hui’s casual confidence, Cheon Yi Gae shook his head in exasperation. It wasn’t the first time Cheon Hui had acted this way.
“Once a year, monks and novice monks from Sorim come down to Dengfeng County to conduct the Alms-giving Ceremony. On this day, you can see celebrated High Monks from Sorim, so people flock here from all corners of All Under Heaven.”
Cheon Hui exclaimed softly, “Ah,” his eyes brightening.
“Who’s coming today?”
“No one knows who will come. Sorim decides on the day itself, or so I heard….”
Cheon Yi Gae, who had already poured wine into his cup, took a hearty sip and continued.
“Ahhh, last year one of the Ten Precept Ten Monks, Abbot Won Jung, came out and led the ceremony. So this year, something of similar caliber….”
Just as Cheon Yi Gae was about to continue speaking.
“Wahhhhh!”
“It’s Sorim!”
Cheers erupted from below.
At the same time, the street that had been packed with people split open on both sides, and from a distance a group of monks came walking.
Yellow robes and crimson sashes.
Ten monks dressed in robes that proclaimed them as Sorim led ten novice monks and came to stand before the Pavilion.
Then a middle-aged woman came out as if she’d been waiting, carrying a basket of rice.
“Welcome. This is rice I prepared separately several days in advance for this occasion.”
The elderly monk at the front bowed.
“Amitabha Buddha. We are grateful, patron.”
“Not at all. We are the ones grateful for Sorim’s help.”
Just as the middle-aged woman began gesturing modestly.
“Wei A.”
The elderly monk’s voice dropped softly, and the novice called Wei A came toddling over, clasped his hands in salute, and bowed his head.
“Amitabha Buddha. Thank you, patron.”
Watching the novice monk bow with dignified formality in his young voice, the middle-aged woman laughed warmly without meaning to and opened her mouth.
“Where shall I place it for you?”
“Here will do, thank you.”
The young novice’s eyes gleamed as he seized the cloth slung across his back and unfurled it wide.
The middle-aged woman poured rice onto the worn fabric, patched over many times.
It was not much.
Yet the old monk seemed to find it sufficient, bowing once more before turning to leave.
He then stationed himself before the pavilion directly beside and repeated the same ritual exactly.
Cheon Hui watched this and spoke as he poured wine.
“So it really is alms-gathering?”
“Did I not tell you? Alms-gathering.”
Cheon Yi Gae’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Though that isn’t precisely their true purpose.”
“It certainly seems that way.”
Both their gazes followed the Sorim monks as they moved between pavilions, continuing their alms round.
“They’re warning people, aren’t they?”
“More or less.”
That’s rather clever, Cheon Hui thought to himself, scanning the surroundings swiftly.
The expressions of ordinary folk dwelling in Dengfeng County were favorable, yet the faces of martial artists had grown visibly taut.
With good reason.
By conducting alms-gathering openly now, Sorim was publicly demonstrating through their very actions that they owed a debt of gratitude to Dengfeng County.
‘Perhaps Huashan should attempt something similar?’
It was around this moment that Cheon Hui was entertaining such thoughts.
“Amitabha Buddha.”
Before long, the Sorim monks had reached the Eun Cheong inn where they were lodging.
“We humbly ask your kindness.”
Just as the innkeeper was handing over rice.
“Ah?”
Cheon Hui’s gaze fixed upon the monk at the far left of the group, one who had pulled his square hat low over his brow.
‘There’s something familiar about that presence…’
At that moment, the old monk, who had been glancing about absently, raised his eyes and their gazes met.
‘Yeoraesin Gwon Won Um…?’
Won Um, too, seemed to recognize him, for his eyes widened and he transmitted his voice:
‘Gu Yeon, the wandering swordsman?’
He called out using the alias Cheon Hui had once worn, Won Um’s eyes brightening.
‘It has been ages.’
‘Fortunately, you remain among the living.’
Won Um sent forth a voice transmission tinged with relief, regarding Cheon Hui intently.
The young novice standing beside Won Um grew uneasy as he remained perfectly still and called to him:
“Elder, if we might…”
Won Um stroked the novice’s head once, as if uncertain what else to do, then lifted his gaze to regard Cheon Hui.
‘I shall call upon you later.’
With that voice transmission, he departed to resume his alms-gathering.
Meanwhile, Cheon Yi Gae had witnessed the exchange of glances between Cheon Hui and Won Um, and questioned him the moment Won Um left:
“Are you acquainted with Yeoraesin Gwon?”
“We had some connection in the past.”
At this brief answer, Cheon Yi Gae raised an eyebrow in surprise.
‘I knew nothing of this alms-gathering custom, yet he knows one of Sorim’s elders?’
Cheon Yi Gae was about to probe further when he saw Cheon Hui concentrating on his meal and shook his head in resignation.
He knew well how much Cheon Hui disliked being disturbed while eating.
‘I’ll ask him later.’
The meal resumed, and nearly an hour had passed when commotion erupted downstairs.
“Heavens! Yeoraesin Gwon the Great Master?”
“Master Won Um—why are you here?”
Cheon Hui glanced toward the stairway.
Won Um was descending, his face wearing that same benevolent smile as before, approaching Cheon Hui.
“Amitabha Buddha. Gu Yeon. It has truly been too long.”
“It has, Master.”
At that moment, Dan Mok Lin rose swiftly from her seat and offered a formal fist salute with respect.

“I am Dan Mok Lin, a humble student of Kangho, and I offer my respects to the venerable Yeoraesin Gwon.”
“Ah, delighted to meet you.”
Won Um, still smiling, turned his gaze naturally toward the remaining figure—Cheon Yi Gae.
“And this patron here…”
As he studied Cheon Yi Gae, his head tilted sideways without his meaning to do so.
Something about the man’s face seemed familiar.
‘As though I’ve seen him somewhere before…’
Cheon Yi Gae, bewildered, began to speak.
“I…”
But even as he opened his mouth, awareness of his current state crashed over him, and cold sweat beaded his skin.
‘Blast! My appearance is hardly presentable in this condition!’
Having grown accustomed to this guise over time, he had momentarily forgotten what was amiss about it.
He hurried to change the subject.
“Ahem, you’re staring rather intently. Much more of that and you’ll bore holes right through my face.”
Won Um hastily pressed his palms together in apology.
“Forgive me, patron. It’s simply that you bear a striking resemblance to someone I know, and I found myself gazing thoughtlessly.”
“No matter. Though perhaps you might exercise a touch more discretion in the future.”
Cheon Yi Gae turned his head away sharply.
‘Good. The secret remains safe.’
Just as he was beginning to relax,
“So what brings you here?” Cheon Hui asked, her tone characteristically flat.
Won Um’s gaze shifted toward her.
“Young one, do you recall the promise we made before?”
He smiled warmly as he spoke.
“The promise to visit this mountain.”
“I remember it well enough,” Cheon Hui replied.
The corners of her mouth lifted slightly.
Why else would they have made camp in Dengfeng County at this hour, when any other day they might have pressed on?
There was only one reason.
‘I need to see what Sorim’s martial arts truly are.’

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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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