Longevity - Chapter 30

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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 30: A Promise Left Behind
Not one of them drew breath after Na Yang-ja finished speaking. He had died two days ago. The Soul-Sealing Needles had only closed his seven orifices, holding his soul fast within his body.
Jangseong understood it, yet he could not accept it. The Na Yang-ja before him sat upright, and only moments ago he had measured the direction of the bamboo grove and pointed out the path. He did not look like a dead man.
Batulu opened his mouth, then clapped a hand over it in a hurry. Yi Jung-yong lowered his head, and Jeon Jin-gung shut her eyes, her lower lip caught between her teeth. Only Jin Ib-chu seemed to have already guessed the answer, from the two pills in the medicine bottle and the cough that had stopped.
Na Yang-ja spoke first.

“Life and death are decided by fate, and there is a time for coming and a time for going.”

He looked at his five disciples one by one.

“You may grieve, but do not weep aloud.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Batulu’s shoulders shook violently. Tears spilled from Yi Jung-yong’s eyes and from Jeon Jin-gung’s as well. Jin Ib-chu turned his head away, but he could not hide the drops clinging to the tip of his chin. Jangseong wiped the corner of his eye with the back of his hand.
Na Yang-ja watched them swallow their voices and gave a faint nod.

“The Sealing Soul Art goes against the natural order of yin and yang. The soul wants to leave, and the body is forced to stay. It is like boiling water and fire together in the same pot.”

His voice was calm, but Jangseong could not begin to imagine the pain those words described.

“It is as though my bones have been soaked in oil where my flesh burns, and the agony has not stopped for a single moment. I endured it only because there was something I had yet to finish.”

Batulu seemed about to say something.

“Master, whatever it is, let me be the one to—”

He could not finish, and he clamped his mouth shut again. A sob leaked out from deep in his throat, like the moan of a beast.
Na Yang-ja did not look at him for long. As though there were no time to soothe their feelings, he pointed to the mound before them.

“This tomb is the eternal resting place of Son Jin-in, the Yakwang.”

Beneath the moonlight, the nameless burial mound still looked shabby. Yet once one knew the name of the one sleeping inside, its weight seemed to change.

“Son Jin-in was a True Person of the Daoist Sect who saved countless lives through medicine and alchemy. To disturb his tomb is to defy the will of Heaven.”

Na Yang-ja’s gaze settled on the mound.

“Even so, we must obtain the Hoecheon Geumdan. If Son Jin-in made it in his lifetime, then at least one pill should remain inside the tomb.”

Jin Ib-chu asked, not bothering to wipe away his tears.

“Master, to whom do you intend to send that elixir?”
“Give it to Na Sunja, the Abbot of Gakjosan.”

Jin Ib-chu’s expression hardened.

“Gakjosan cast you out of the lineage, Master. After you wandered for ten years and risked your life to obtain that elixir, why should we give it to them?”

A brief shadow crossed Na Yang-ja’s eyes. The wound of being expelled from the lineage did not seem to have faded with the passing years.

“I am not giving it to Gakjosan. I am giving it to Na Sunja.”
“Is there really a difference?”

Jin Ib-chu stepped one pace closer.

“Na Sunja is the one second only to the Sect Leader. He shares your generational rank, and he is likely to become the next Sect Leader. If he had truly tried to protect you, he could have prevented your expulsion.”

As sorrow deepened across Na Yang-ja’s face, Yi Jung-yong turned to Jin Ib-chu.

“Third Junior Brother, that’s enough.”

It was a low, firm voice.

“Hear your master out first.”

Jin Ib-chu did not argue. He let out a long breath and lowered his head.
Na Yang-ja took a folded letter from his left sleeve. He held it for a moment, studying it, then offered it to Jangseong.

“When you hand over the Geumdan, give this letter to Na Sunja as well. He will open the way for you to enter the Daoist Sect.”

Jangseong did not take the letter. He glanced at Yi Jung-yong instead. Something like this, he thought, should be held by the eldest senior brother.
Yi Jung-yong and Jin Ib-chu nodded at the same time.
It was a silent instruction to accept it.
Jangseong received the letter with both hands, tucked it deep inside his robe, and drew his collar closed. The thin paper felt strangely heavy.
Batulu wiped his face with his sleeve.

“Master, I will not take anyone else as my teacher. You are the only master I will ever have in this life.”
“Me too.”

Yi Jung-yong spoke right away.
Jin Ib-chu and Jeon Jin-gung bowed their heads as well. Jangseong, too, tried to speak, but Na Yang-ja raised his voice first.

“I’m still talking, and you’re already defying my orders?”

Na Yang-ja stopped himself right after the words left his mouth.
He had meant it as if he were still alive. Yet he had just confessed that he had died two days ago.
The five disciples remembered the same truth, and the tears they had barely held back burst out all at once. Batulu dropped to his knees and sobbed, while Jeon Jin-gung covered her face and shook.
Even Jangseong could no longer keep the sound inside.
Na Yang-ja did not weep with them. His face showed that he knew that if he broke down too, everyone would collapse where they stood.

“Enough.”

He spoke after a long while.

“I won’t force you to choose a new teacher. Judge for yourselves.”

Jin Ib-chu wiped his tears and opened his mouth.

“Master, those words…”

Na Yang-ja raised a hand to stop him and turned his gaze to Batulu.

“Batulu.”

Batulu straightened his back in a hurry.

“Yes, Master.”
“You have an honest heart and few distractions. Judging by martial arts alone, you are still the foremost among your brothers, and if you keep walking this single path, you will surely reach a great height.”

Na Yang-ja’s gaze shifted to the remaining disciples.

“From now on, you will protect your brothers and sisters. Jangseong in particular has no martial arts at all, so you must watch over him even more closely.”

Batulu nodded hard, tears streaming down his face.

“I will guard them with my life.”
“Don’t start by thinking about giving your life. Your role is to protect them by staying alive.”

Batulu tried to answer, but his throat clogged and no sound came out.
Na Yang-ja pointed to the front of the burial mound.

“Go on ahead and start digging. Begin at the front of the mound, not behind it.”
“Yes, Master.”

Batulu hefted the iron spade and headed toward the front of the mound. He had barely taken a few steps before he began dragging his sleeve across his face, over and over.
Na Yang-ja’s gaze shifted to Yi Jung-yong.

“Jung-yong. You are careful, and you know how to weigh what comes first and what comes after. Because of you, I have always been able to rest easy.”

Yi Jung-yong’s lips trembled.

“Master…”
“If you have no heart for the Daoist Sect, you may return home early. Build up your fortune and raise your family’s name.”

Yi Jung-yong lifted his head, as if startled.
Na Yang-ja gave a faint smile.

Should one of your fellow disciples fall into calamity someday and have nowhere left to go, at the very least they could visit your home and get a bowl of rice, could they not?

Yi Jung-yong bowed deeply, and tears dropped to the ground.

“Go and help Batulu. The moment you strike the tomb stone, stop at once. If you dig past that point, you are no longer opening a burial ground but robbing a grave, and it will shorten your own lifespans.”
“I will keep that in mind.”

Yi Jung-yong made his way toward the mound.
Now it was Jin Ib-chu’s turn.

“Ib-chu.”

Jin Ib-chu tried to force up his usual grin, but the corners of his mouth refused to move.

“You have a quick mind, nerve enough for anything, and a knack for thinking on your feet. But you have one fatal weakness.”

As if he had anticipated the words, Jin Ib-chu answered quickly.

“From now on I will rein myself in. I’ll cut ties with everything from the past and become a new man.”
“That will be difficult.”

Na Yang-ja shook his head.

“Temperament is born in a person. Being tender-hearted alone would not be a problem. But you are tender and deeply attached at once, and in the end people will be the ones who wound you.”

Jin Ib-chu lowered his head, with no excuse to offer.

“There are countless fine women in this world. You cannot keep all of them by your side.”

Na Yang-ja’s voice softened a little.

“If you cannot have her, let her go. And if letting go proves too hard, then open a path for her so she can be happy.”
“Yes, Master.”

Jin Ib-chu’s reply was little more than a whisper.

“You go and help too.”

Jin Ib-chu walked toward the mound. His steps tilted to one side, perhaps because of the wound on his chest, but he did not look back.
Na Yang-ja turned his eyes to Jeon Jin-gung.

“Jin-gung.”

Jeon Jin-gung lowered her head. When Na Yang-ja spoke of the turmoil within and without Tang, a flush of shame passed over her face.

“To extend kindness and then demand repayment is a base thing to do. I will not ask you to repay me.”

Na Yang-ja’s expression hardened.

“Only, do not turn the debt of kindness you’ve received into betrayal and harm our people.”

Jeon Jin-gung dropped to her knees at once.

Mu Jeon Jin-gung will never forget her master’s teachings.

Only then did Jangseong realize that Jeon Jin-gung’s full name was Mu Jeon Jin-gung.

“You will always be my master. Senior Brother Batulu, Senior Brother Yi, Third Senior Brother, and Jangseong will always be my fellow disciples.”

Jeon Jin-gung bowed until her forehead touched the ground.

I will not forget the aid Tang gave us, receiving our envoys for two hundred and sixty years.

Only then did Na Yang-ja soften his expression.

“Get up. I have something separate to say to Jangseong.”

Jeon Jin-gung bowed once more, then went to the burial mound. With only Jangseong and Na Yang-ja left, the sound of iron spades digging into the earth drifted over from afar.
Na Yang-ja tapped the empty space beside him with his hand.

“Jangseong, come closer and sit down.”

Jangseong shook his head.

“A disciple cannot sit side by side with his master. I’ll stand.”

Na Yang-ja did not insist.

“I brought you down from the mountain, yet I failed to look after you properly. Do you resent me?”
“I don’t resent you.”

Jangseong did not wipe away his tears.

“I am only grateful to you, Master.”
“Do you remember what I told you separately before?”
“Yes. You told me not to quarrel with ignorant people and to treat them with generosity. But you also said that before resentment builds up in the heart, one must mete out a fitting punishment for the first wrong.”
“Those two statements may sound like they contradict each other.”

Na Yang-ja considered for a moment, then explained slowly.

“If, after you forgive someone, no resentment remains in your heart, and you do not regret it when you later think back on the matter, then forgive.”

Jangseong listened, holding his breath.

“But where your heart is concerned, if you cannot truly forgive, do not force yourself to swallow it and move on. Give the person the punishment that fits what they did, but do not, drunk on anger, inflict more than is necessary.”

Jangseong nodded.

“You mean I should keep my good heart, but not let my own heart be trampled?”
“That’s right.”

Na Yang-ja answered with emphasis.

“I hope you will be generous to people. At the same time, I fear that in trying so hard to be generous, you will keep sacrificing yourself.”

His eyes lingered on Jangseong’s face for a long while.

“Keep piling up grudges, and one day you’ll lose faith in everyone in this world. Then, even over a small wrong, you’ll be able to unleash a killing blow.”

Jangseong brought up the question he had been holding onto for a long time.

“Why do you worry about me more than Senior Brother Batulu or the other senior brothers, Master?”
“Because you are different from them.”

Jangseong waited for him to go on, but Na Yang-ja offered no further explanation.
Instead, his voice hardened.

“The other children may decide for themselves whether to enter the Daoist Sect. But you must enter it, without fail.”
“I will not take anyone else as my master.”

Jangseong shook his head at once.

“This is my last will.”

Na Yang-ja’s expression grew stern.

“If you defy me, I won’t be able to close my eyes in peace.”

Jangseong bit his lip. Bowing again to someone else and becoming their disciple felt like abandoning Na Yang-ja.
From the burial mound in the distance came Batulu’s shout.

“Master! I’ve found the grave marker!”

Na Yang-ja did not rise. He kept his eyes on Jangseong alone, waiting for an answer.

“Are you really going to keep me from closing my eyes?”

In the end, Jangseong could not answer.
Na Yang-ja let out a long sigh.

“My greatest regret in this life is that my Daoist registry was taken from me and I was driven out of the martial lineage.”

Jangseong lifted his head.

“If you enter the Daoist Sect, train, and rise to a high position someday, you can restore my registry, which died with me, and bring me back into the Gakjosan lineage.”

Jangseong pressed the letter inside his robe with his hand. Only then did he think he understood why Na Yang-ja had entrusted the letter to him.
Entering the Daoist Sect was also the way to reclaim the name Na Yang-ja had lost.
Jangseong slowly knelt.

“Master, I give you my promise.”

For the first time, a glimmer of relief crossed Na Yang-ja’s eyes.

“I will enter the Daoist Sect and train without fail. And someday, I will reclaim your registry and bring you back to Gakjosan.”
“Good.”

Na Yang-ja answered briefly and rose to his feet.
Jangseong rose with him and reached to support his arm. Na Yang-ja waved his hand away and walked alone toward the burial mound.
Five disciples were waiting in front of the grave marker.
All that remained now was to open the grave.

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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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