Longevity - Chapter 4

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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 4: Beyond the Grave
On the way back to the grassy field, the moonlight revealed a long row of soil, the furrows overturned that afternoon. When the young woman asked whether Nohwang had dug them, Jangseong couldn’t answer. The tears started again.
By the time they reached the grass, the night air had chilled him to the bone.
The moment he set down the door panel, Jangseong grabbed a pickaxe. His side throbbed where he’d been struck, and each swing barely sank the tip a finger’s width into the earth.
The burly man was already scooping out dirt with a shovel. Every stroke of his arm hauled up a heavy clump of wet soil.

“When do you plan to finish digging with that?”

The chubby young man standing at the edge of the pit pulled the pickaxe out of Jangseong’s hands.

“I have to do it.”
“What you’re doing isn’t helping. It’s getting in the way.”

The young man shoved Jangseong up and out of the pit, then hooked the pickaxe over his shoulder.

“If you collapse, we’ll have to bury you too. We only dug one spot.”

Jangseong tried to climb back in, but his legs gave way and he sank to the ground. He hadn’t eaten all day, and nothing but the taste of blood lingered in his mouth.
The young woman held out a water gourd.

“Drink.”
“I’m fine.”

He shook his head, then went to the wooden barrel he’d left beside Nohwang. A little of the soy milk he’d boiled that morning still clung to the bottom.
The burly man stopped shoveling and looked at the barrel.

“What’s that?”
“Soy milk.”
“Give me some.”

Jangseong froze with his hand on the barrel.

“It’s what Nohwang was drinking.”
“So?”
“I thought you might not want it…”

The burly man set down his shovel and held out his hand.

“I don’t mind things like that. Hand it over.”

When Jangseong passed the barrel over, the burly man tilted his head back and drank it all in one go. A few gulping sounds followed, and not a single drop remained.
Wiping his mouth, the burly man grinned sheepishly.

“The one who works hardest eats the most.”
“That’s why you eat so much.”

When the chubby young man grumbled from inside the pit, the burly man pretended not to hear and picked up his shovel again.
By the time Jangseong had caught his breath a few times, the pit had grown deep enough to reach his waist.
Jangseong sat beside Nohwang and brushed the clotted dirt from its fur with a brush. Nohwang, which would ordinarily have wagged its tail, lay perfectly still.

“Hang on a little longer.”

He scraped the hardened soil from beneath the horn with his fingernail.

“I’ll send you somewhere good.”

His voice cracked. He bit his lip and moved the brush again.
In the pit, the chubby young man unrolled a measuring tape.

“About four ja and three chi… still shallow. We need to dig four more chi at least. It has to be at least four ja and seven chi.”

Jangseong lifted his head.

“Does it really need to be that deep just to bury a cow?”

A youthful-looking woman came up to the edge of the pit.

Three ja and nine chi if there are no children. Four ja and two chi for one. Four ja and seven chi for several.

When Jangseong only stared blankly, the woman glanced at Nohwang.

“Second Senior Brother wants to follow the rites for burying a person.”

The brush in Jangseong’s hand went still.
The giant and the stout young man didn’t answer. They went back to working the spade and pickaxe. Jangseong rose from his seat and bowed deeply to the two of them.

“Thank you.”
“Save the thanks until we’re done.”

The stout young man raised his pickaxe and struck the hard earth.

“He may look full of vigor, but if Senior Brother gets hungry, he’s the one who’ll drop first.”
“Why would I drop?”
“You drank every last drop of the soy milk.”

At their bickering, the young woman laughed softly.
Only then did Jangseong realize he didn’t even know their names. Even if he wanted to repay their kindness, he wouldn’t know whom to look for.
He asked the woman:

“If it isn’t too rude, may I ask your name?”

The woman studied him for a moment, then nodded.

“Our master’s surname is Im, and his Daoist name is Na Yang-ja.”

She pointed to the giant in the pit.

“Senior Brother is Batulu.”
“It means hero.”

Batulu cut in right away.

“Among the Tiele Tribe of Mobuk, there are plenty of Batulus besides me.”

The woman gestured toward him.

“Second Senior Brother is Yi Jung-yong. He’s from Hagan.”

Then she turned her gaze toward the darkness of the village.

“Third Senior Brother, who went with our master, is Jin Ib-chu. He’s from Gangnam. I’m Jeon Jin-gung, and I come from under the jurisdiction of the Andong Protectorate.”

Jangseong carved the five names into his mind, one by one.

“Our master studied the Dao on Gakjosan.”

Jeon Jin-gung added.
Jangseong bowed his head once more.

“I will never forget the kindness you Masters have shown me.”
“We’re not Taoist adepts.”

Batulu stopped shoveling and looked at Jangseong.

We just learn techniques from the Master and make our living by them. Calling me “Taoist” is awkward.

The pit soon reached a depth of about four feet and seven inches. Jangseong laid the two door panels side by side on the bottom, and Batulu stepped up in front of Nohwang.

“Stand aside.”

He slid his arms beneath Nohwang’s front legs and belly and heaved. The massive body lifted clean off the ground.
Jangseong caught his breath. The ox that had hauled the plow his whole life swayed so lightly in the air.
Batulu climbed down into the pit and laid Nohwang carefully on the door panels.
Jangseong followed him down. He spread a straw mat over Nohwang’s body, but the back and legs still showed. Then he unwrapped the only quilt he had brought from home.

“If you cover him with that, what are you going to sleep under?”

Yi Jung-yong asked.

“I can sleep anywhere.”

Jangseong pulled the quilt up over Nohwang’s body. His hand froze as he tried to draw it over the head.
The drooping ears and closed eyes came into view.
Just this morning, he had licked my face and drunk a few mouthfuls of soybean water.
The hand gripping the edge of the quilt trembled.

“Nohwang.”

He didn’t open his eyes, no matter how he called.

“Are we really leaving now?”

The soil beneath his feet blurred.
Just then, footsteps sounded beyond the grass. Na Yang-ja and Jin Ib-chu were coming back from the village.
The Taoist adept looked down at Jangseong in the pit. He saw at a glance that the boy stood there unable to cover Nohwang’s face.
Na Yang-ja drew Yi Jung-yong’s sword and climbed down into the pit. The moment Jangseong turned around in alarm, the blade flashed once, briefly.
One of Nohwang’s small horns came away.
Na Yang-ja sheathed the sword and held the horn out to Jangseong.

“Keep it close to your chest.”

Jangseong received the horn with both hands. Near the base, it still seemed to hold a trace of Nohwang’s warmth.

That child would not want you to be left with nothing beside you on the road, going on alone.

Jangseong hugged the horn to his chest.
Something small but solid remained in the hollow of his chest. It was something he could tuck inside his robe and carry anywhere.

“Thank you.”

This time, his voice wouldn’t come out properly.
Jangseong drew the quilt up and covered Nohwang’s face.
Na Yang-ja climbed out of the pit first. When Jangseong followed, Batulu began shoveling earth back in.
A single spadeful of soil landed on the quilt.
Jangseong suddenly leapt back into the pit.

“Wait a moment!”

He lifted one corner of the quilt and pulled out an old bamboo flute from inside his robe. It was something he had packed when he left home.
Jangseong set the flute down beside Nohwang’s neck.

“Going alone would be dull, wouldn’t it?”

He packed some earth beneath the flute so it wouldn’t roll, then pulled the blanket back over it.
When he climbed out, Na Yang-ja asked him a question.

“Do you know how to play the flute?”

Jangseong nodded.

“And can you play a proper tune?”

Jangseong had no answer.
Jeon Jin-gung stepped up to Na Yang-ja.

“Master. Jangseong’s legs are not so badly off that he can’t walk. He has no home to return to, so might we take him with us?”

Na Yang-ja said nothing and simply looked at Jeon Jin-gung.
Batulu spoke as he shoveled earth over the grave.

“I agree too. He’s this good to an ox, so he’ll be better still to a person. When Master falls ill and takes to bed one day, he’ll look after you to the very end.”

Na Yang-ja’s brow twitched.

“Why do you start from the assumption that I’ll be the one lying sick in bed?”
“Doesn’t everyone grow old, Master?”
“Senior Brother Batulu, go and dig.”

Jin Ib-chu cut Batulu off and turned his eyes to Jangseong.

Master. This boy did not abandon the ox even in front of dozens of men. In an age of chaos like this, if we leave him alone, it won’t be easy for him to survive.

Yi Jung-yong also folded his measuring cord and tucked it into his robe.

“When we open the hall and hold a memorial rite, we’ll need someone to play the flute. Fate has brought him this far, so I don’t see any reason to sever it now.”

As the four of them spoke one after another, a faint smile settled on Na Yang-ja’s lips.

“Even though the one most concerned hasn’t said a word, you lot have already settled it among yourselves.”

Jeon Jin-gung asked Jangseong.

“Will you come with us?”

Jangseong started to answer, but his eyes went to the two wooden chests Batulu had shouldered and to the bundles the others carried. They would have to walk the mountain paths. As for himself, even a little time on foot stiffened his left leg.
He shook his head.

“Thank you, but I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’ll be the one holding you up.”
“I’ve already been helped all day long. I can’t impose on you any further.”

Batulu drove his spade into the mound of earth.

“You’ve turned the whole village against you. You can’t stay here, and outside, people are dying of hunger in every ditch. Where do you plan to go alone?”
“I know how to hunt. I can catch fish, too.”
“And in winter?”

Jangseong could not answer right away.
Jin Ib-chu spoke.

“You don’t plan on growing old alone in the mountains at your age, do you?”

Jangseong looked at Nohwang’s grave, the mound half-buried in earth.
Na Yang-ja drew a small Money Pouch from his sleeve and held it out to Jangseong.

“It’s the treatment fee Wang Jeon-gwi gave us. Look after your body first.”

Jangseong tucked both hands behind his back.

“I can’t accept it.”
“It’s money you earned by taking a beating.”
But it’s money you accepted from him, Taoist.

Na Yang-ja said no more. He slipped the Money Pouch inside Jangseong’s collar.

“If you want to repay your debt, stay alive first.”

The mound had been smoothed into a rounded shape. Jangseong pressed the last of the earth down with both hands. He gathered the dry grass the wind had scattered and laid it over the mound, then tucked Nohwang’s horn deep into his breast.
Na Yang-ja was the first to shoulder his pack.

“Let’s go.”

Jeon Jin-gung took a few steps, then glanced back.

“You’re really not coming?”

Jangseong nodded slowly.
Na Yang-ja did not press him further.

“Everyone has a road they must walk. You can’t drag someone along against their will.”

He studied Jangseong for a moment, then added,

“What we do isn’t always something to be proud of. And there’s no guarantee that following us will bring you any good.”

The group began to move into the darkness.
Jangseong hurriedly took out the Money Pouch and pressed it into Batulu’s palm.

“Please take this.”

Batulu’s eyes went wide.

“Why are you giving it to me?”
“I will never forget your kindness for as long as I live. Someday, I will surely…”
“Someday what? Don’t talk nonsense.”

Jin Ib-chu came back, pried the Money Pouch from Batulu’s hand, and tossed it back to Jangseong.

“If you’re so set on repaying us, then repay us by staying with us. If we part ways today, how do you plan to find us when you don’t even know where we’re headed?”

While Jangseong was still fumbling to catch the Money Pouch, Jin Ib-chu turned away.

“You’re more exasperating than I thought.”

The sound of footsteps grew fainter.
Jangseong was left alone beside the mound. The torchlight among the trees soon vanished as well.
To the south stood an empty house without even a door, and to the north, a mountain with no trace of people. Neither way held anyone who would call out his name.
Jangseong gripped the horn inside his breast.
He felt foolish for speaking of repaying a debt and then talking about “someday.” If he let this chance slip away today, he might never meet them again.
Nohwang did not put off the tasks he had to finish, not even on his last day.
Jangseong knelt in front of the grave mound.

“I’m coming too.”

He brushed the dirt once with his palm.

“I don’t know where we’re going, but I won’t leave you alone.”

He gathered the shovel and his bundle and got to his feet. His body tilted on the very first step, but he followed the footprints into the darkness and didn’t stop.
Some time later, Jin Ib-chu, who had been walking at the very back, looked over his shoulder. When he spotted Jangseong, the corner of his mouth lifted.

“Did you change your mind?”

Jangseong nodded, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Jin Ib-chu caught one end of Jangseong’s bundle and tugged him forward.

“Then tell the Master yourself.”

The group came to a halt.
Jangseong stopped in front of Na Yang-ja. He didn’t kneel, nor did he cling to him, begging to be taken in.

“You saved my life, and you allowed Nohwang to be laid to rest in peace.”

He steadied his breath before going on.

“I have no money, and I have nothing to offer you. But I don’t want to part ways having received your kindness for nothing. If there is any task I can do, I’ll do it at your side.”

Jangseong met Na Yang-ja’s gaze squarely.

“If I may come along, I’ll follow you. If not, I’ll find another path from here.”

Jin Ib-chu and Jeon Jin-gung exchanged a glance. Batulu nodded vigorously, looking satisfied, while Yi Jung-yong smiled, his eyes narrowing.
Na Yang-ja also looked at Jangseong for a long while.

“Ha-ha.”

He turned around and began to walk again.

“Let’s go.”

That single remark was enough.
Jangseong fell in behind the group. Jeon Jin-gung slowed her pace, and Jin Ib-chu quietly lifted one end of his bundle for him.
Jangseong did not look back even once.
Beyond the grave mound where Nohwang lay, a road he had never known was beginning.

—————
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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