Chapter 8
Flame Moon The Abbot Said So (1)
More than ten days had passed.
Cheon-yo moved ceaselessly with Baek Sang-ah, heading somewhere. However, their direction was inconsistent—sometimes south, sometimes west, then east.
As they twisted and turned along the path, Cheon-yo carefully erased all traces of their movement. He insisted on paths without people and planned their route to avoid encountering anyone.
They rarely entered villages, and when they did stop briefly to get supplies, he was meticulous about security. He pulled Baek Sang-ah’s cloak over her head to hide her face, bought only what was necessary, and left quickly.
Thanks to Cheon-yo’s astonishing skill in lightness kung fu and his meticulous methods of covering their tracks, no one had followed them so far.
That night, as they made camp again, Cheon-yo quietly watched Baek Sang-ah doze off near the fire.
“How long do you plan to keep wandering outside?”
“You weren’t sleeping, huh.”
Cheok-ha noticed Cheon-yo’s gaze. She spoke to him while looking at Baek Sang-ah.
“The cold is too much for a child to bear. She’s been sleeping outside for over ten days. Even though we are adults and martial artists, it’s too harsh for her now.”
“I know.”
“So, do you have a solution? Is there a destination?”
“Of course. But there’s somewhere we need to stop before we reach it.”
“Somewhere to stop?”
“I need to retrieve something I left there a long time ago. It happens to be along our route, so we’ll go there first.”
“When will we reach it?”
“Maybe as soon as tomorrow.”
“Will Sang-ah be able to rest comfortably there?”
“Even if we searched the whole world, would there really be a place where she could rest in peace?”
…Cheok-ha had no answer to that.
His words were not wrong. In truth, Cheok-ha had been urging him to find a resting place quickly, but even if she had taken Baek Sang-ah with her, it wouldn’t have made much difference.
The righteous and unrighteous sects, the demonic cults—every martial artist in the world would be after the child. Could there really be a place where such a child could be safe?
Still, Cheok-ha had to press him. She worried about Baek Sang-ah’s safety.
“You’re the one taking Sang-ah around. I know it’s difficult, but hurry and make sure the child doesn’t get worn out.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Having exchanged words, Cheok-ha returned to her position. Her place was always at a reasonable distance from the two of them.
“Not much farther, and we’ll reach the place to stop.”
“You say there’s a place to stop in these mountains?”
As they climbed the mountain path, Baek Sang-ah looked puzzled at Cheon-yo’s words. They were deep in the mountains, where no human presence was visible. Yet Cheon-yo claimed there was a place to stop, which made Baek Sang-ah curious about the destination.
“So, are we staying here?” the child asked.
“No. This is just a stop along the way; it’s not the place to stay.”
Hearing this, Baek Sang-ah pouted and tapped her knees with her hands, grumbling.
“My legs feel like they’re going to explode.”
“You asked to get down because you felt sick, little one.”
“Geez… I can’t keep up with your speed. I need a chance to settle my stomach.”
“Judging by your complaints, you still have energy left. Want me to run again?”
“No, thanks.”
Shaking her hands, Baek Sang-ah walked briskly.
As the three of them continued, a large estate came into view in the distance. A massive wall surrounded it, and it seemed impossibly large for a location deep in the mountains.
At the entrance of the estate, a sign hung.
Daewoon Temple (大雲寺).
It was a temple.
But Daewoon Temple was not an ordinary temple. The monks there did not only focus on their spiritual path. While not related to Shaolin, they were also a martial arts sect.
Looking up at the sign, Baek Sang-ah asked,
“Is this the destination?”
“Yes. It hasn’t changed.”
“Have you been here before?”
“About ten years ago.”
Cheon-yo reached for Baek Sang-ah’s cloak and pulled it snugly over her head.
“Just in case, stick close to me,” he said.
Baek Sang-ah nodded. Cheon-yo then walked through the wide open doors with her.
Inside, a monk approached, noticing the strangers. He joined his hands in greeting.
“I am Hyemyeong. May I ask the purpose of your visit to Daewoon Temple?”
He looked barely twenty, with a youthful face.
“I’m here to retrieve something I left here long ago,” Cheon-yo said calmly.
“Who did you leave it with?”
“Cheong-wol.”
Hearing this, Hyemyeong flinched.
“You mean the former abbot, Master Cheong-wol?”
“Yes.”
“Unfortunately, he passed away a few years ago.”
“I know. But the item I left should still be here at Daewoon Temple. I’ve come to retrieve it.”
“It seems I should inform the current abbot, Master Hyeon-mu. What is the item you seek?”
“A sword. Simply a sword I entrusted to Cheong-wol.”
“Understood. I will first guide you to a place to rest briefly, then inform the abbot.”
“Thank you.”
“This way.”
Hyemyeong led them deeper into the temple and guided them to a small room suitable for guests. It wasn’t large but was prepared for tea.
Hyemyeong joined his hands in respect.
“I will inform the abbot and retrieve the item you entrusted. Please rest.”
Cheon-yo nodded and set a kettle over the fire to boil water. He poured tea into two cups.
As he lifted one cup, Baek Sang-ah reached for the other, but Cheon-yo stopped her.
“Wait.”
He drank first. After tasting it, he nodded.
“It’s fine. Drink.”
Baek Sang-ah looked at him strangely, but Cheok-ha, leaning at the doorway, understood.
“He’s checking for poison.”
Cheon-yo always did this. If there was the slightest doubt, he would taste or touch it first.
Baek Sang-ah lifted her cup. As she tried to remove her cloak, Cheon-yo held the hem down.
Blinded, Baek Sang-ah flailed her arms.
“Uncle! I can’t see!”
“Drink with the cloak on.”
“Ugh, it’s suffocating.”
“Then go be trapped somewhere pitch-black like Manjangok. You’ll know what suffocating really is.”
Under his stern words, Baek Sang-ah quietly drank her tea with the cloak on.
After a while, Cheok-ha, standing at the doorway, spoke softly.
“Something’s off. The approaching people’s expressions aren’t like those coming to return an item.”
Cheon-yo replied lightly,
“Are there even expressions for returning an item?”
“I don’t know, but clearly, they look like they’ll chew you up bone by bone.”
“I’m pretty resilient, actually.”
“Now’s not the time for jokes.”
“Nothing surprises me anymore.”
Cheon-yo stood, gently pulling Baek Sang-ah, still with her cloak over her head.
“Let’s go.”
He stepped outside, where about thirty monks were spaced out in a semi-circle.
Their expressions, as Cheok-ha had said, did not look like they were here just to return an item.
Cheon-yo turned to Cheok-ha.
“I get what you mean. At least they don’t look like people returning an item.”
Then, the monk at the front, appearing around sixty, spoke.
“Are you the owner of that sword?”
“Are you Master Hyeon-mu, the current abbot of Daewoon Temple?”
“Yes.”
“Then you must know. The sword I entrusted is here, and I’ve come to retrieve it myself. Isn’t that right?”
“It’s true. The sword is here.”
“Then just return it, right? Why bring people and make the atmosphere so hostile?”
“My late master and former abbot, Cheong-wol, left instructions for me as his last words.”
Hyeon-mu slowly raised his hand. Behind him, the thirty monks spread out in a fan shape around Cheon-yo, as if to encircle him.
He continued,
“If the owner of this weapon tries to reappear in the world, stop him. He is dangerous.”
Cheon-yo sighed lightly.
“Ah, I see. That’s why Cheong-wol said giving the sword is easy, but getting it back won’t be simple.”
Swish!
The monks raised their staffs simultaneously into a ready stance.
Hyeon-mu spoke again,
“So, we will… stop you.”
It seemed they had no intention of returning the sword without a fight.
