42. Not Human?
"Seven people, all from the Hao Sect."
"Hao Sect?"
Sun Wukong tilted his head in confusion.
"Didn't I tell you about them when I explained Murim before?"
"Oh, right. They're not exactly Black Path, more like a group of all sorts of lowlifes banded together, right?"
"Yes. Still, they're a legitimate Murim sect."
Sun Wukong grinned, clearly amused.
"So, they infiltrated from the Hao Sect?"
"That's right. But, if you think about it, it's strange."
"Strange, indeed."
"No, not just that. I figured out their identities in less than an hour at the drinking table."
"Are you saying the Hwangbo Clan didn't notice?"
Sun Wukong twirled his hair around his finger.
"That gives us two possibilities."
"One, the Hwangbo Clan is just plain dumb, so focused on expanding their influence that they can't even tell who's who. That would just be incompetence."
"They're vying for a seat among the Five Great Families—could they really be that stupid?"
Sun Wukong shook his head.
"The other possibility is that they knew and let them in anyway."
"So, an alliance between the Hao Sect and the Hwangbo Clan? Or maybe collusion is the better word."
Sun Wukong nodded.
The second seemed more likely.
The Hao Sect dealt in information. Many would be interested in the Namgung Clan's internal affairs, so the Hao Sect infiltrating like this could become a serious issue.
'That would mean the Hao Sect is connected to some shadowy organization.'
No, that's not it.
Sun Wukong shook his head.
'Just because they were enemies in a past life doesn't mean they're all part of some secret group. That's jumping to conclusions.'
It was possible, but there was no guarantee. Sun Wukong didn't let himself get carried away.
'This is something I need to find out myself.'
He scratched his chin.
The Red Thread of Fate.
He couldn't ask Wujing to look into it.
"Hey, dig into their past lives for me, will you?"
How could he even say that?
He'd tried, though.
"'Those guys were my enemies in a past life. What do you think?'"
When he dropped that line, Wujing just blinked at him, then replied in a flat voice,
"Oh. I see."
Another setting added, huh. Got it.
With that kind of reaction, what else could he do?
"Alright, that's enough. Good work."
Sun Wukong dismissed him.
He'd had a busy day—his head hurt. He'd had a Martial Duel with Namgung Seo-wol, witnessed Namgung Jin-Baek's Martial Art Skill, drank, and even got caught up with the kids.
But Wujing didn't leave right away.
He seemed to have something to say.
Normally, Wujing would have withdrawn by now, but instead, he hovered around like a puppy needing to pee.
Wujing had been troubled lately by a question in his mind.
'I think I can break through this wall...'
The experience of sparring with Sun Wukong.
The perfection that bloomed at Sun Wukong's fingertips.
After seeing that, Wujing had unconsciously made time to practice his swordplay, replaying Sun Wukong's Martial Forms in his mind over and over.
'He didn't just imitate my forms—he executed them more perfectly than I ever could.'
He understood Wujing's forms better than Wujing himself.
What did these forms mean? What kind of attack were they? How did they target the opponent?
Wujing swallowed hard. Unlike his Water-Fire True Qi, his other Martial Art Skills were a mishmash of techniques.
From Shaolin's secular teachings to all sorts of obscure pressure point strikes used by bandits.
He'd learned a bit of everything, but never deeply. His skills were broad but shallow.
That lack of depth left him frustrated whenever he hit a wall.
He'd half given up. How could there be an end to such a hodgepodge of skills?
But then, he'd seen it.
In the final Eleven Moves, he'd glimpsed the path he needed to take.
For the first time in a while, Wujing's spirit as a martial artist burned brightly.
'It's a feeling I'd forgotten.'
They say those who live in the martial world are like moths drawn to the flame of revenge.
Wujing felt an old, half-forgotten emotion ignite within him.
Revenge.
Maybe it was because he'd witnessed with his own eyes the pursuit of martial perfection that could make revenge possible.
Wujing's eyes now burned with the resolve of a true Martial Artist.
Even a single word of advice—what could be more precious to a martial artist?
After much hesitation, Wujing finally decided to ask Sun Wukong for guidance.
"What are you doing? If you need to go, use the outhouse. Don't do it here."
"Ah, Great Hero, this is a rather embarrassing request..."
"Why are you acting so out of character?"
Wujing took a deep breath and performed a Tiger Fist salute.
Chak!
His posture and attitude were solemn, like a disciple before his master.
Sun Wukong looked at him, half-disgusted.
"I learned a lot from our last Martial Duel. If you could spare even a single word of advice to this unworthy junior, I would treasure it like gold."
"I'm not your senior in Murim, am I?"
"If you're stronger than me, you're a senior."
Sun Wukong twirled his hair again, and Wujing hurriedly added,
"It's just, my Mental Cultivation only shows its true power underwater..."
"Do you really think so?"
"Yes? Yes, that's right. On land, it's just an ordinary Mental Cultivation."
"Then just imagine you're underwater, not on land."
"Excuse me?"
"Move and think as if you're swimming underwater. That's all the advice I can give you."
Wujing closed his eyes and fell into thought.
He was sure that, as a Martial Master, Sun Wukong's advice must hold some deep meaning.
...No matter how he thought about it, it sounded like nonsense.
'What kind of crap is that? Even if I imagine I'm underwater, I'm still standing on solid ground.'
If I imagine I'm underwater, what, does this place suddenly become the middle of the Yangtze River?
No matter how hard he tried, Wujing couldn't grasp the hidden meaning.
He was about to ask for clarification, but closed his mouth.
Sun Wukong had already turned off the lamp and lay down, looking annoyed.
* * *
When you've agonized for a whole day and still can't find the answer—
There's a way.
'Ask someone smarter than me.'
Who could that be? That triangle-faced guy?
...Not much difference.
Then, Wujing suddenly remembered the retainers at the Pavilion.
Most of the Namgung Clan's retainers were eccentrics.
Most had no family, no background, no close friends, and even while staying at the clan, they rarely interacted.
Wujing, bored, had wandered around and met a few of them.
Most ignored him, but there were always a few who were more sociable.
'Wasn't his name Chae Noya?'
He was said to be a famous scholar once.
A blind scholar who couldn't see.
He even joked that he might be the smartest man in all the Central Plains.
How could a blind man who couldn't read be so smart?
He did have a sage-like appearance, and he certainly seemed smarter than Wujing himself.
It wasn't hard to find Chae Noya.
He was always dozing off in the pavilion by the wall.
"Chae Noya, they say you were a brilliant scholar. Would you listen to my story?"
"Oh, isn't it Master Wujing?"
"Master? Please, I was only with Shaolin for a bit. Anyway, listen up, old man."
Wujing explained the Martial Duel, the shortcomings of his own Martial Art Skills, and Sun Wukong's cryptic advice.
Chae Noya listened quietly, then tilted his head.
"Which Ancient One gave you such advice?"
"Oh, a certain Master Sun—a bit of a lunatic, honestly. I got roped into hanging around with him."
"Lunatic?"
"Of course. Ever since we met, he's insisted he's the Great Sage Equal to Heaven... Huh?"
That wasn't Chae Noya's old, raspy voice.
Wujing's neck creaked as he turned. Sun Wukong was standing there, having slipped in unnoticed.
A cold sweat broke out on Wujing's back.
"Uh, haha. I meant I'm the crazy one. Of course."
"Seems like you're not crazy enough. Want me to help you lose your mind completely?"
"Come on, why so harsh? Anyway, what brings you here?"
Wujing tried to change the subject. Sun Wukong clicked his tongue and said,
"I'm here to see the Young Lord and this man."
"Chae Noya?"
Wujing glanced over and saw Namgung Mu-yeong standing beside Sun Wukong. As the next clan head, Wujing quickly performed a Tiger Fist salute.
Sun Wukong wasn't here because of Wujing.
Namgung Mu-yeong had asked Sun Wukong to help gather the retainers and the younger generation for a meeting. His own persuasion wasn't enough, so he wanted Sun Wukong, as a fellow retainer, to help.
Sun Wukong was curious about the other retainers, too. The Black-Masked Iron Sword he'd met before coming here was interesting enough.
But most of all, the man sitting in the pavilion now—Chae Noya, or rather, the former Hanlin Academy Scholar, Chae Gong—was the most fascinating of all. Sun Wukong looked at him with interest.
Chae Gong stared right back at Sun Wukong.
Wujing made a strange face as he watched.
'How can a blind man stare at someone like that?'
Chae Gong kept staring at Sun Wukong, then flared his nostrils, as if sniffing the air.
The odd sight made Wujing wonder if this man was really a scholar.
"Strange. You're not human..."
"Excuse me?"
"It's odd. How can something that's not human stand before me on two legs?"
Wujing was left speechless by the cryptic words. Sun Wukong, however, chuckled as if he understood.
"Not a man, but a monkey. Pleased to meet you, old man. I am Sun, the Monkey King, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven."
Chae Gong smiled faintly.
"Hard to believe, but to my eyes, you do look like the Monkey King."
Wujing, listening to the conversation, was dumbfounded.
So the Namgung Clan's retainers really were all eccentrics...
No, not eccentrics—just plain crazy.
That blind man claims to see things, and then there's Sun...
Wujing felt like he was the only normal one here, and it made him uncomfortable.
Sun Wukong chuckled.
"Not a renowned Taoist with spiritual power, nor a Buddhist monk with mystical arts, yet you possess the Heavenly Eye Clairvoyance, old man. When you die, let's meet in the Heavenly Realm. Though, as a lowly soul, you might not even be able to look up at me."
Chae Gong laughed, clearly entertained. Wujing grew even more suspicious.
'He really doesn't seem blind.'
It felt like they were making eye contact as they spoke.
Then Chae Gong turned his head and looked straight at Wujing.
Wujing's chest went cold. Those cloudy eyes seemed to be staring right at him.
Chae Gong spoke simply.
"Let go of what you have."
"Excuse me?"
Without another word, Chae Gong stood and left the pavilion.
Namgung Mu-yeong hurried after him, startled—he hadn't delivered his message yet.
Wujing stared blankly after him, then burst out angrily.
"Seriously, don't people know how to speak plainly? Why do they all talk like that?"
Sun Wukong laughed, clearly entertained.
"That old man has sharp eyes."
"He's blind."
"Sometimes, not seeing lets you see more."
Wujing tilted his head, but unlike before, he began to mumble those words to himself.
He looked like he was on the verge of understanding something.
Sun Wukong, watching him, turned his head to look at Chae Gong's departing figure.
* * *
The meeting suggested by Jegal Seo-seo was postponed.
Most of the retainers declined, but with three agreeing, it wasn't impossible to arrange.
The real reason was elsewhere.
The Sichuan Tang Clan's younger generation had arrived.
"Now that the Sichuan Tang Clan's people are here, all Five Great Families have gathered. Tonight, there will be a banquet, and the Dragon Phoenix Assembly will officially begin."
Namgung Mu-yeong spoke quietly.
"And the clan head requests that all retainers attend the banquet."
Sun Wukong nodded in understanding.
'A show of power, huh.'
All the retainers being present.
'This is when they want us to show that we're earning our keep at the Namgung Clan.'
Sun Wukong didn't bother refusing. There was no reason to.
"How could I miss a drinking party?"
Honestly, he'd have been offended if he wasn't invited.
Night fell, and the banquet began.
It was a lively affair, with food and drink flowing freely.
Namgung Jin-Baek sat at the head table, surrounded by elders and retainers. The retainers sat nearby.
Across from them sat the heirs and entourages of the Five Great Families.
Namgung Mu-yeong maintained perfect posture, even as the drinks flowed.
He didn't touch the alcohol at all, except for a token sip from Namgung Jin-Baek. In some ways, he reminded Sun Wukong of Tripitaka.
Turning his gaze, Sun Wukong spotted Muhwa.
She was sneaking glances around, but mostly focused on eating.
A look of quiet happiness appeared on her face.
Sun Wukong smiled.
Muhwa didn't really fit with Tripitaka either.
But the image of her overlapping with Tripitaka from before was burned into his mind.
...Of course, Tripitaka never ate like that. He barely ate at all, sometimes even fasting.
He was the type who could control even his appetite, claiming it was just another desire to be mastered.
Sun Wukong glanced at Namgung Jin-Baek.
'Honestly, I can't figure him out.'
Namgung Jin-Baek was the hardest to read. Nothing about him really stood out.
Sun Wukong looked around again.
'Still, one thing's for sure—maybe I'm just imagining it, but I keep seeing traces of Tripitaka in all of them.'
Namgung Seo-wol's stubborn eyes.
Namgung Mu-yeong's expression, demeanor, and speech.
Muhwa's advice.
Even Namgung Jin-Baek sometimes showed a hint of profundity.
It all led to one conclusion.
'Maybe they're all reincarnations connected to Tripitaka.'
These Strings of Karma.
Not just those deeply tied to Sun Wukong, but all of them somehow linked to Tripitaka in their past lives.
'Why is that?'
Sun Wukong thought of Guanyin Bodhisattva.
Why had she led him to the Namgung Clan?
Why had she made him meet these people from his past again?
What kind of future had she foreseen?
Sun Wukong shook off the complicated thoughts.
'I'll find out when I face it.'
It's simple. Find Tripitaka, find his soul, and restore him.
That's all.
Feeling lighter, Sun Wukong surveyed the banquet hall again.
Then, something unexpected caught his eye, and his eyes widened.
'Hmm...'
A banquet isn't just about food and drink. Invited courtesans performed music and dance to liven up the atmosphere.
Sun Wukong's gaze landed on the courtesans.
Specifically, on several courtesans connected by Red Fate.
He caught a familiar scent in the air.
'Wait... could it be them?'