Longevity - Chapter 43

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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 43: The Bond Forged This Day
“Fortune-Bestowing Limitless Heavenly Worthy

.”

The woman’s voice, drifting from beyond the flames, was clear and measured.
Jang Saeng held the wooden plank and stopped breathing.
He had heard it from Na Yang-ja once: an ordinary Daoist would cry out “Limitless Heavenly Worthy” when performing the Daoist Greeting, but the six-character invocation prefaced with Fortune-Bestowing—that was reserved for an Ancient Daoist who had transcended Heavenly Tribulation and attained the Purple Energy

Realm alone.
Yet the voice was young. It bore no trace of an aged Daoist’s weathered rasp, nor the heavy cadence of someone long worn by time.
From the courtyard, one of the Gae Bang disciples cried out.

“Who are you?”
“And who might you be?”

The woman’s counter-question was ice-cold.
Jang Saeng leaned his ear toward the gap between the flames. All he needed was for the Gae Bang disciples to fail to recognize her invocation and rush in recklessly. A Daoist of her realm would make short work of four men.
Soon, the voice of the mustachioed man carried through.

“Well, well—you’re quite a beauty for a priestess.”

Jang Saeng’s heart leapt.
But the hope was short-lived. Crack!
A sharp slap echoed across the courtyard.
Jang Saeng thought the female Daoist had moved. Yet another man’s voice thundered out moments after.

“Insolence! What presumption to speak thus to an Ancient True Person?”

Crack!
The sound of another slap rang out.

“However peerless your beauty, you must not mock a True Person of Do Moon. Apologize at once.”

Jang Saeng’s fingers dug into the edge of the wooden plank.
Among the four, one knew the proper etiquette of Do Moon. He had struck his companion and acknowledged fault before the female Daoist could take direct offense—a move that left her with no clear justification to draw her blade.

“What is the meaning of this fire? Where is the temple keeper of this place?”

The silver-tongued man answered swiftly.

“I beg your pardon, True Person. The temple keeper of Seong Hwang Temple, Son Jung-gwi, is my second uncle. When we heard of the turmoil in Bunyoung, we grew concerned and came seeking him with friends.”

He paused to steady his breath, then lowered his voice.

“But we found several monks had seized the temple. Those who had abandoned their precepts had captured a refugee woman and defiled her, even taking her life. Unable to bear it, we confronted them, and when we were overwhelmed by their martial skill, we set this fire and fled.”

The sound of dry rafters splitting erupted in rapid succession.
Snap! Crack-crack!
The roar of flame and shattering tiles swallowed the words outside. Yet Jang Saeng grasped what the man was contriving.
Jeon’s Daughter was almost certainly already dead. They were pinning her death on the monks’ wickedness, casting themselves as heroes who had stood against wrongdoing.
Jang Saeng stretched his neck and tried to shout.

“That’s a lie!”

No sound emerged. The moment his mouth opened, scalding smoke rushed into his throat.

“Gack—cough!”

His chest felt as though it would tear apart. Still prone, Jang Saeng coughed, but his throat swelled with each gasping breath, producing a harsh, rasping sound. His wet sleeve had already grown hot and could not properly shield his nose and mouth. Just then, several roof tiles slid loose and began to fall.
Crash!
The cough was completely swallowed by the sound of shattering tiles. The man outside continued speaking.

“If the True Person doubts my words, inspect the Northern Shrine Hall. The corpse of the sacrificed and the kasaya and Precept Knife abandoned by the monks—all of it lies within.”

Jang Saeng clenched his teeth.
There was no way a monk’s robes and blade could be in the Northern Shrine Hall. Which made the claim all the more dangerous. When someone boldly told you to verify something that didn’t exist, most people didn’t suspect the lie—they moved to see the thing with their own eyes.
The female Daoist’s answer never came.
A moment later, footsteps sounded toward the outside of Seong Hwang Temple. They seemed intent on deceiving the female Daoist and sending her away.
Jang Saeng looked down the passageway.
The child lay unconscious in the darkness. If he closed the hatch now and hid, there was a chance both he and the boy would survive.
But Jeon’s Daughter was in the Northern Shrine Hall. If she was alive, this was the last moment to save her. If she was dead, he couldn’t let these men slip away as though nothing had happened.
Jang Saeng descended into the passageway and lifted the child into his arms.

“Just hold on a little longer.”

Words not meant for an unconscious child. The boy hung limp against Jang Saeng’s chest.
Jang Saeng wrapped the child’s face with his wet sleeve. He covered his own mouth and nose with his other sleeve, then turned his body toward the burning door.
The door frame had already collapsed into the flames. From the eaves, burning splinters of wood fell, and the ground was scattered with broken tiles and charcoal.
Jang Saeng held the child even tighter. With one hand, he cradled the back of the boy’s head to keep his face from turning toward the fire, while his other arm bound the waist and legs together. Even if he fell, the child would not be jarred from his embrace.

“I’m going.”

He ran into the flames.
Scorching air lashed his face. Fire caught instantly on his sleeves and hair. Jang Saeng lowered his head and took three strides, but on the fourth his foot came down on a broken tile.
His ankle twisted sideways.
Jang Saeng turned his body to keep the child from hitting the ground. His shoulder and knee struck the stone steps first.
Thud!
White light flashed across his vision. He gritted his teeth, rose again, and beat at the flames consuming his clothes with his hands.
In the center of the courtyard stood a tall woman. She wore a thin Daoist robe and appeared to have a Long Sword across her back, but her face was hidden behind smoke and tears.
The female Daoist turned to go, then stopped when she caught sight of Jang Saeng and the child.

“Who are you?”

The faces of the four Gae Bang disciples went rigid.
The smooth-talking man ran first toward the Northern Shrine Hall. The other three followed without even thinking to kill Jang Saeng.

“Flee!”

The female Daoist’s form vanished from Jang Saeng’s blurred vision.
The next moment, screams and the sound of something collapsing erupted from the Northern Shrine Hall.

“Ahhh!”
“True Person, there’s been a misunderstanding—”

The words never finished.
After a metallic ring, the shout ceased. A second scream tore out, the third ending in a short gasp.
Even as Jang Saeng dragged the child eastward across the courtyard, the fighting didn’t last long. By the time he laid the boy down several paces from the flames, the female Daoist was already sheathing her Long Sword and emerging from the shrine hall.

“Rest easy. The wicked are all dead.”

Jang Saeng gasped out a question.

“Is the girl alive?”

The female Daoist did not answer. Instead, she came toward Jang Saeng and examined the small child on the ground.

“Is this child injured?”

That silence was answer enough.
Jang Saeng lowered his head. He had failed to save Jeon’s Daughter after all.

“She isn’t injured. She simply lost consciousness from the shock.”

The female Daoist checked the girl’s wrist and breath.

“Anyone else in the quarters?”
“No one living.”

Jang Saeng rubbed his eyes. Tears kept streaming down, but his vision only grew darker.

“The woman in the Northern Shrine Hall is this child’s sister. The parents died at the hands of bandits in the Western Quarters.”
“Fortune-Bestowing Limitless Heavenly Worthy.”

The female Daoist intoned the Daoist Greeting softly.
Jang Saeng tried to see her face, but could barely make out that she was tall and held a sword in her hand. As she drew closer, a faint scent of orchid drifted to him.

“What relation do you have to this family?”
“People I met on the road. We were traveling west together, and then…….”

Jang Saeng trailed off.
The Paulownia Wood Staff was gone.
He turned his head, scanning the courtyard and the quarters ahead. Nothing emerged from the wavering, pale firelight.

“What are you searching for?”

Jang Saeng rose without answering. The staff—he had propped it against the wall of the quarters. Inside it lay the Hui Cheon Gold Pill, the remaining medicinal pellets, and a small nugget of gold.
Losing it meant losing all reason for having come to Gak Jo Mountain.
Jang Saeng bolted back toward the Western Quarters.

“Stop!”

The female Daoist seized his arm.

“The beam is already burning. It could collapse any moment.”

Jang Saeng twisted, trying to wrench free. His scorched clothes tore in her grip. Before she could grab him again, he threw himself into the flames.
The moment he stepped into the Western Quarters, a thick wooden beam cracked above.
Crack!
Jang Saeng felt along the wall for the staff. A piece of burning wood touched his palm—flesh seared, and the smell of cooking meat rose.

“Where is it?”

His vision held not even the red glow of flames now. He swept the floor with hands and feet.
His fingertips caught smooth wood.
The moment Jang Saeng clutched the staff, the roof collapsed. Crash!
A wave of searing heat pressed against his back. Yet the falling tiles and rafters stopped just a hand’s breadth above his head.
Jang Saeng had no time to wonder why. He crouched low and bolted toward the exit, colliding with the wall in the darkness, his knees scraping against broken tile.
He stumbled out, and the roof collapsed completely behind him.
The female Daoist’s hand withdrew. She had been holding up the fallen roof with invisible Spiritual Energy.
She swept her sleeve, and the flames clinging to Jang Saeng’s clothes and hair vanished at once.

“What in that staff is worth your very life?”

Jang Saeng did not answer.
Every burn on his body throbbed in rhythm with his heartbeat, a stabbing pain. Worse than that was the darkness—he could see nothing at all.
The female Daoist’s voice came from just ahead, but all that filled Jang Saeng’s vision was a black curtain.
A child—the one he had awakened in the underground passage—began to cry.

“Father! Mother!”

The sobs soon became calls for his sister. The child did not yet know that everyone in his family was dead.
The female Daoist sat beside the boy and spoke in a soothing tone, her voice growing lower. From the direction of the sound, Jang Saeng understood that she had knelt down.
After crying for some time, the child’s breath caught with a gasp. Then silence fell again.

“He’s lost consciousness again.”

The female Daoist laid the boy down and turned to Jang Saeng.

“You said you met this family by chance on the road?”

Jang Saeng meant to answer. But from inhaling so much hot smoke, even opening his mouth felt as though his chest might tear.
He nodded slowly instead.
Something cool and ceramic pressed against his palm.

“The burns are severe. Apply this Jin Chang Medicine

to the wounds.”

Jang Saeng pushed the bottle away again.

“Take it. I have no designs on what lies inside your staff.”
“That’s not what I meant at all.”

His voice had grown barely a whisper.
The female Daoist let out a short sigh.

“This child has lost everyone. Meeting me today must be fate—I will take him with me.”

Jang Saeng cradled his staff and pressed his palms together in gratitude.

“Thank you.”
“Where do you intend to go?”

Jang Saeng could not answer, only shaking his head. He needed to reach Gak Jo Mountain, but now he could see neither road nor other travelers.
The female Daoist fell silent for a moment. Then she opened his hand and placed a heavy piece of silver into his palm.

“Three Nyang of Silver. Use it to buy food and medicine.”

Jang Saeng reached out to return it, but the female Daoist had already risen.
Before the Northern Shrine Hall, a low recitation began.
Jang Saeng recalled the chanting of Na Yang-ja that he had heard at Yak Wang Temple. He remembered only a few passages, but it seemed to be the same scripture—the Cheon Do Scripture, which soothes the souls of the dead and opens their path forward.
When the recitation ended, the sound of flame arose from the Northern Shrine Hall as well. The female Daoist meant to burn the remaining corpses and traces of the wicked together.
A moment later, he sensed her lifting the child into her arms.

“Fortune-Bestowing Limitless Heavenly Worthy. Guard yourself well.”
“May I ask the name of this True Person?”
“Jang.”

The female Daoist answered without ceremony.

“Which Daoist temple do you hail from?”

Jang Saeng wanted to know if she was a Daoist of Gak Jo Mountain. But the female Daoist seemed to believe he was asking in order to repay his debt of gratitude.

“It is a small matter. Do not dwell on it.”
“That’s not what I meant to ask…….”

No further reply came.
He could not tell in which direction her footsteps had faded away.
Inside Seong Hwang Temple, two fires burned toward each other. Jang Saeng pressed the Paulownia Wood Staff against the ground.
Tap.
He tapped the space ahead of him. Stone floor.
Tap, tap.
He walked slowly, feeling his way forward with the staff’s tip. Several times he struck crumbling walls and pillars, but he did not stop.
Jang Saeng crossed the threshold of Seong Hwang Temple at last.

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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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