Longevity - Chapter 8

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

Chapter 8: A Rare Supreme Martial Art
Jin Ipchu was smiling, but his eyes betrayed discomfort.
Jangseang was equally taken aback. From what he knew, those who robbed graves were typically villains after treasure. Yet Nayangja and his company had buried No Hwang with proper respect, and they had shared food with him when he was starving.
Jangseang looked down at the Rice Cake in his hand and spoke calmly.

“I had already guessed it, even without you mentioning it.”
“You had?”
“Last night I watched you and Baturuu digging up No Hwang’s grave. Both of you were remarkably skilled at moving earth and excavating—far too practiced to be amateurs.”

Jin Ipchu blinked for a moment, then laughed aloud.

“Ha, your eyes are quite sharp.”

The tension that had held his shoulders eased slightly. Jangseang had tactfully overlooked the slip, though his curiosity remained unquelled.

“If you’re not after gold and silver, why dig up graves at all?”
“We’re looking for something. Our master has been searching for it for a very long time.”
“What sort of thing?”
“I don’t know myself. None of us do. We’ve never even heard its name or seen what it looks like.”

Jin Ipchu gestured with a chin toward the food in Jangseang’s hand.

“Eat it while it’s still warm. In this region, they call it Yeonggo.”

Jangseang took a bite of the Rice Cake. A subtle sweetness emanated from the sticky interior. Back home they had simply called it Rice Cake, but the people here called it Yeonggo. The same food went by different names in different places. There was little point in pressing further for answers.

“What Martial Art does your master practice?”
“That, I don’t know either.”

Jin Ipchu bought a Sweet Cake from a vendor on the roadside and handed it to Jangseang.

“Our master rarely uses Martial Arts at all, and he’s always told us never to quarrel carelessly with others. So there’s no way to know how much or what he’s trained in.”
“Then what have you and the others learned?”

A mischievous smile played at the corners of Jin Ipchu’s mouth.

“We didn’t learn directly from our master, but what we’ve all mastered are rare Supreme Martial Arts not seen anywhere else in the world.”

His words contradicted themselves. Jangseang thought for a moment, then pointed at the ground beneath their feet.

“From the graves?”

Jin Ipchu nodded with satisfaction.

“Quick mind you have.”

He fell silent as if relishing Jangseang’s suspense. When Jangseang did not press him, he finally could not resist boasting and spoke first.

“What Baturuu learned is the Vajra Indestructible Divine Art.

It is the supreme form of the Buddhist School’s Horizontal Refinement Art,

and it is said that the Shaolin Temple’s Golden Bell Technique

and Iron Cloth Shirt

both derive from its lineage.”

“Is Shaolin Temple where the monks live?”
“It was a temple built by the Wei Emperor Tuoba Hong

for the great monk Balta of the Western Regions.

One of the Buddhist School’s three great temples, or so they say.”

Jangseang wanted to ask about the other temples, but he held his tongue. What mattered now was understanding the people before him.

“What about Second Brother and Third Brother?”
“The Martial Art we practice stems from the Hunyuan Divine Art,

a meditation method supposedly left behind by Guangcheng Zhenren of the Daoist School.

In theory, one must cultivate both Yin and Yang to achieve perfection, but we lack such talent, so we’ve divided it between us. Second Brother practices the Crimson Yang Divine Palm,

and I practice the Profound Yin Divine Palm.

”
“How powerful are these two Martial Arts?”

Jin Ipchu broke into laughter.

“I don’t know. The Hunyuan Divine Art has nine levels total,

but Second Brother and I haven’t even reached the first. How could I know its true power when we haven’t managed to display it properly?”

Jangseang smiled along with him.

“Has Elder Brother achieved the Vajra Indestructible Divine Art?”
“The Vajra Indestructible Divine Art has three levels total.

Elder Brother has already reached the first.”

Jin Ipchu tapped his temple with a finger.

“After a serious illness in childhood, his thinking became a bit sluggish, but because his mind is free of distracting thoughts, he’s better than us at focusing on one thing. It suits that Martial Art well.”
“What about Fourth Brother?”
“Fourth Sister only took up with Master last year. She hasn’t formally begun studying Martial Arts yet. Recently she obtained the Qimen Dunjia

and has been pondering the Five Elements Evasion Technique

within it.”
“Is evasion technique a form of Lightness Skill for running quickly?”
“Evasion doesn’t simply mean running away. It’s closer to a transformation that reverses truth and illusion, combining Military Tactics, Formation Arrays, and even Divination. The ancient emperors Huangdi and Jiang Shang, and even Zhuge Kongming studied it, or so the tales go. Some call it the source of Confucian Martial Arts, yet it touches upon much of the Daoist way as well—though I myself cannot say what is true.”

After he finished speaking, Jin Ipchu entered the grain merchant’s shop. After haggling with the proprietor at length, he purchased half a sack of mixed grain and rice. Jangseang shouldered the sack.

“Why buy so much? What will you use it for?”
“To eat it, of course. Do you think I’m buying it for decoration?”
“Even with six people eating, that should last a month.”
“We have one among us who eats enough for three people alone. We’ll be lucky if it lasts a fortnight.”

The image of Baturuu tearing into a chicken came to mind, and Jangseang nodded in understanding.

“For the next fortnight, will we not pass through any villages or towns?”
“We might. But if there’s no pressing need, we avoid places where people gather. We rarely walk the official roads either.”

Jin Ipchu glanced back over his shoulder with a wry smile.

“That’s why we happened to meet you on the mountain path last night.”

Jangseang adjusted the bundle on his shoulder. Their path seemed to have more places to avoid than destinations to reach.
Jin Ipchu purchased Pickled Vegetables and Preserved Meat, then asked the shopkeeper for the location of the Relay Station.

“You head back to the Inn first. I’ll stop by the Relay Station and catch up.”
“Are you going to send a Letter, sir?”
“Quick on the uptake, I see.”

Jangseang tightened the bundle on his back.

“I’ll carry it for you.”

The Relay Station stood on the north side of the city. Jin Ipchu placed three sealed Letters into the hands of the station clerk. All three were bound for different destinations. After much back-and-forth negotiation, the fee came to five Silver Coins.

Jangseang was startled. Five thousand coins was a considerable sum. That Letters alone could command such a price surprised him, but what truly caught him off guard was that all three seemed to be addressed to women.
As the two left the Relay Station, Nayangja and Baturuu appeared from across the way.
Jin Ipchu’s pace noticeably slowed.
Nayangja glanced at the plaque above the Relay Station, then turned to Jin Ipchu with a question.

“Sending more Letters?”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“Just one. I sent only one south to Gangnam.”

Jin Ipchu held up a single finger.
Nayangja’s expression made clear he didn’t believe it. His gaze shifted to Jangseang.
Jangseang understood at once that those eyes were asking for the truth. To lie and cover for him would be wrong. Yet neither did he wish to expose what Jin Ipchu was trying to conceal.
After a moment’s hesitation, Jangseang gave a small nod.
Nayangja asked nothing more. He simply regarded Jin Ipchu with displeasure.
In that instant, Jangseang realized he had not merely learned one of the group’s secrets—he had taken a step into becoming its keeper. That Nayangja had not blamed him only made the weight heavier. He could not say, with any certainty, whether he would be able to turn away from those same eyes next time and nod again in silence.
Baturuu lifted the bundle from Jangseang’s shoulders with one hand in a swift, practiced motion.

“Limping one, the third is no good fellow—don’t learn his ways.”
“What makes you say I’m not a good person?”
“Wagging your tail at every woman you meet……”
“That’s enough.”

Nayangja cut off Baturuu’s words.

“Don’t call him that. Doesn’t he have a name?”

Baturuu fell silent, then looked down at Jangseang again.

“All right then, Jangseang. But what is your family name?”

Jangseang could not answer. A child picked up from the roadside could hardly retain his original surname. He had nothing to prove who he was except the name Jangseang itself.
Baturuu, realizing his mistake a moment too late, closed his mouth. His face bore the look of someone searching for an apology that would not come. Jin Ipchu tapped Jangseang’s shoulder lightly and moved ahead. Jangseang followed, affecting indifference, but the warmth of that touch lingered on his shoulder long after.
By evening, the group returned to the Inn. The innkeeper asked if they had eaten supper, and Nayangja instructed him to send food to his room.
He announced that they would depart at daybreak the next morning. Then he rebuked Yi Jungyong for conducting a dangerous experiment involving Mozi’s principles in his chamber. Though Yi Jungyong had compensated the innkeeper for the broken vessels, the smell of sulfur and saltpeter still lingered in the air. Had a spark caught, no amount of money would have settled the matter.
He reproached Jin Ipchu for exposing their movements at the Relay Station.

“Any attentive person can track the destinations of those Letters and discern our trail with little difficulty.”

Jin Ipchu bowed his head. Listening from the side, Jangseang was troubled by his own nod of acknowledgment, yet Nayangja did not fault him.
When Nayangja finished his rebukes, he turned his gaze to Jangseang.

“If you are to remain with us, there is something you must understand.”

The room fell silent.

“For many years now, I have been searching for something. Unable to know where it lies buried, I have pursued old records, and sometimes I have had no choice but to disturb the rest of the dead.”

Nayangja’s voice was calm and measured.

“But we are not grave robbers seeking treasure. We do not touch gold, silver, or funeral goods. The provisions and travel money we need for the road, we procure through honest means.”

Jangseang recalled the lie he had protected earlier that day. To travel with this group was not merely to receive help. It was to bear their principles, their failings, their hidden tracks all together. At No Hwang’s tomb, he had needed only a path to follow. Now it was different. This was the moment to ask whether he would choose this path even after coming to understand, however slightly, what kind of road these people walked.
Nayangja asked him.

“If we leave tomorrow, it will not be easy to return. From now on, we will have to roam the mountains and fields, avoiding official roads. If your heart is troubled, it is not too late to turn back now.”

Jangseang did not hesitate.

“I have nowhere to return to. And I do not wish to.”

Just then, the evening meal arrived. Rice, soup, and finely sliced preserved meat were set upon the table. Baturuu pulled his bowl toward him first, and Jin Ipchu, showing no signs of the rebuke he had received, reached for the meat before anything else. The heavy silence that had lingered in the room began to lighten with the gentle sound of chopsticks.
They all sat together and ate.
Nayangja, having heard from Jeon Jingung of Jangseang’s talent in music and from Jin Ipchu that he could read characters, wore a satisfied expression.

“Though his legs are not whole, his spirit is steady and his righteousness true. That he understands characters and is learned in music—this is all the more remarkable.”

Jin Ipchu, across from him, opened his eyes wide and gestured with his chin. Yi Jungyong signaled with his chopsticks held aloft, and even Jeon Jingung glanced once in Nayangja’s direction.
Only then did Jangseang grasp the meaning.
He set down his bowl, rose from his seat, and clasped his hands together.

“If the Abbot does not find my infirm body disagreeable, I wish formally to enter your lineage as a disciple.”

A smile bloomed across Nayangja’s face.

“Good. Meeting itself is fate. From now on, walk with us.”

With permission granted, Jangseang at once knelt.
To take a master was not a matter that could be concluded with a single word. The triple prostration that a disciple offers to his master was a vow no different from pledging to follow his teachings and observe the principles of his lineage. Jangseang gathered his robes and prepared to perform three deep bows.
Nayangja straightened himself and received the first bow.
The moment Jangseang’s forehead touched the floor, Nayangja’s eyebrows moved very slightly.
As the second bow was made, his expression hardened. His eyes opened wide, and the look he turned upon Jangseang was altogether changed from before.
Unaware, Jangseang attempted to perform the third bow.
In that instant, Nayangja bent forward urgently and seized Jangseang’s arm.

“That is enough. Make no further bows.”

He lifted Jangseang to his feet with sudden force.
Everyone in the room stared at the two of them in bewilderment. To prevent the third bow at the formal induction of a disciple was contrary to all propriety.
Jangseang too could not fathom the reason.
Nayangja returned to his seat without offering any explanation.

“Eat your meal. We must depart early tomorrow.”

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————