Murim School Record - Chapter 9

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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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Episode 9: That Which is Mine (1)

Cheong Ak Seonsa’s eyes flew wide open.
“Then you don’t believe Elder Brother?”
“It’s something that could never happen.”
“But it did happen. The Murim Alliance announced that the corpse was Byeok An Mi Hui.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“No what? It’s right there.”
At the sudden sound, both men turned their heads at once.
Whoooosh!
From the forest to the right, a wild-haired monk emerged with his trousers down, relieving himself.
“G-Great Master!”
The two men quickly bowed in respect.
The one with his trousers down was Cheong Mong Seonsa, known as Cheong Mong.
“Does a man with high martial skill live, and one with low skill die without question? Why do you not answer? Speak!”
Shake-shake-shake!
Cheong Mong shook vigorously, pulled up his trousers, and only then turned to face them.
As he drew near, the reek of alcohol hit them like a wall.
“Is what your sect master says foul to your ears? Why don’t you answer?”
“Not at all, sir. One cannot say that the weak must surely perish.”
“What about you, Cheong O?”
Cheong O Seonsa hesitated.
“That is…correct, sir.”
“Correct about what?”
“That the weak need not lose to the strong.”
Cheong Mong narrowed his eyes and glared at both men.
“Now do you understand?”
Without any premise to what they were meant to understand, the two monks exchanged glances.
“This Yi Mo Baek fellow—he is a true master. We call such people hidden masters.”
“But—”
Cheong Ak Seonsa parted his lips halfway to object, then closed them again.
Wandering the martial world, one occasionally encountered those who succeeded through cunning alone.
Yi Mo Baek belonged to that category, and calling him a hidden master did not fit at all.
Cheong Mong Seonsa was his elder, but a man not in his right mind.
He kept quiet, fearing what offense he might receive if he caught at the man’s words.
“Now go!”
“Then we junior disciples shall take our leave.”
The two men turned to depart.
Anxious he might find some other fault with them, their pace quickened with each step, and soon they vanished into the forest.
Sigh!
Once the two had disappeared, Cheong Mong Seonsa exhaled in relief.
“I thought they’d caught on—like a thief’s foot itching at discovery.”
As his disciples vanished from sight, Cheong Mong’s stride lengthened.
In moments, he cut through the forest and arrived at the Medical Buddha Hall, where he cleared his throat.
“Ahem! Amitabha Buddha!”
But the Medical Buddha Hall gave no sign of life.
“Amitabha Buddha, ahem-ahem!”
“Who goes there?”
A deep voice rang out, and from behind the hall emerged a monk—the healer Cha Ul.
“G-Great Master!”
“Do you know who I am?”
“Are you not Cheong Mong Seonsa, the highest elder of Shaolin?”
“What is your dharma name?”
“I am called Cha Ul.”
“Cha Ul… it reminds me of an old friend who was called Saul. I used to call him Saul, Saul—such a good-natured soul, so virtuous he needed no law to live rightly.”
“Please, come inside.”
Creak!
Cheong Mong Seonsa poked his nostril with his right index finger, and out came a dark chunk of dried nasal matter.
Flick!
He wiped it on his own robe and spoke.
“So what’s this? I hear there’s some extraordinary master lying in the Medical Buddha Hall.”
“An… an extraordinary master?”
“What was their name again? Byeok… Byeok…”
“Byeok An Mi Hui.”
“Right, so we caught that demon woman of the dark path. What’s the name of that fellow she killed?”
“Ah, you’re speaking of Yi Mo Baek, are you not?”
“Let’s have a look. I’m curious what kind of man could kill a woman of such legendary beauty.”
Cha Ul smiled faintly.
“I shall guide you. Please follow me.”
Cha Ul led the way, and Cheong Mong Seonsa followed behind him.

Yi Mo Baek remained as he was.
Conscious, though barely.
Yet he could do nothing at all.
His entire face was swollen grotesquely—his eyes appeared shut even when open, and though he wished to speak, his tongue was too inflamed to form words.
Then a voice came from beyond the door.
“You should go on now.”
“Me?”
As Cha Ul hesitated, Cheong Mong Seonsa’s brow furrowed.
“Go tend to your duties.”
“Yes, yes!”
Cha Ul faltered, then withdrew.
Bang!
Cheong Mong Seonsa pushed the door open and entered, his sharp eyes surveying the room around him.
“Took quite a beating, didn’t you? Do you know who I am? Nod your head if you do.”
Nod, nod!
Yi Mo Baek nodded his head up and down—an acknowledgment that he recognized him.
“Cold, isn’t it?”
He nodded again.
“That’s the aftermath of taking a powerful Yin Energy Technique. Left unchecked, you’ll die. From what I know, almost no one has survived the Byeok Ma Technique of Byeok An Mi Hui.”
Shiver, shiver!
His body trembled as if seized by profound shock.
“That weaselly fellow from the Sect Leader and the Arhat Hall came and went, but didn’t say a thing?”
Yi Mo Baek nodded once more.
“Worthless dogs. Even after witnessing your radiant spirit of Sacrifice for Righteousness—how you boldly stood against Byeok An Mi Hui to save a comrade’s life—they simply walked away.”
Cheong Mong Seonsa’s expression darkened with displeasure.
“Here, try this.”
But Yi Mo Baek could not open his mouth.
No matter how hard he tried, his lips were too swollen to part, and nothing could pass his lips save water.
“Right. Your lips are too puffed up to open at all.”
Cheong Mong Seonsa used his left hand to pry Yi Mo Baek’s thick lips apart.
“Kuh-ahhhh!”
Yi Mo Baek let out a cry of pain.
“I know, I know. Bear with it just a moment!”
He then quickly withdrew a round object wrapped in silver foil from his pocket.
Whoosh!
As he unwrapped the foil, a deep purple pill the size of a date pit emerged.
Pop!
He thrust it into Yi Mo Baek’s mouth and spoke.
“Chew and swallow it quickly.”
“Uhhhhh!”
He shook his head.
“You can’t chew?”
Yi Mo Baek nodded in confirmation.
Cheong Mong Seonsa glanced warily at the closed door, his face taking on the look of someone deep in thought.
Slide!
He inserted his finger into Cheong Mong Seonsa’s mouth to retrieve the purple pill that had been forced down, then placed it in his own mouth and chewed.
Munch, munch.
After he had worked it completely soft in his mouth, he spoke.
“This is an excellent medicine. Even the tiniest portion of its efficacy must not be lost. Which is why you must also swallow my saliva.”
Shudder.
Yi Mo Baek’s entire body trembled as if struck by lightning.
“Yes, yes, I understand your feelings. It must seem absolutely revolting. But the real potency lies dissolved in the saliva—what would you have me do?”
Yi Mo Baek shook his head vigorously in refusal.
“I won’t take it. That simply cannot happen. I’m sorry. It will be over quickly.”
Once more, Cheong Mong Seonsa pried open Yi Mo Baek’s mouth and brought his own lips to Yi Mo Baek’s in a kiss-like gesture.
“Mmmm—gag, gag, gag!”
“Hold still. Gulp!”
Cheong Mong Seonsa’s brow furrowed as he pressed an acupoint and forcibly transferred the medicine from his mouth into Yi Mo Baek’s.
Cheong Mong Seonsa poured every last drop of saliva from his mouth as well.
Gulp.
Cough, cough, gulp.
To ensure not a trace of the medicine’s potency remained on the tongue, he even spat phlegm into Yi Mo Baek’s mouth, then struck an acupoint beneath his throat.
Tap, tap, tap.
A choked, strangled sound escaped Yi Mo Baek’s throat.
The unmistakable noise of swallowing echoed in the room.
“Rest now.”
Without another word, Cheong Mong Seonsa opened the door and vanished.

Cha Ul, entering with a medicinal broth, started in alarm.
Yi Mo Baek, who until Noon had been nearly unconscious, was now sitting upright on the cot.
“I see.”
Cha Ul quickly set down the broth and examined Yi Mo Baek closely.
The swelling had receded.
Until Noon, his entire body had been puffed up like a ball; now his facial features were distinctly visible once more.
“What brought this about?”
“Let’s start with the medicine first, please.”
“Of course.”
Cha Ul quickly retrieved the medicinal bowl from the table and handed it over.
Gulp, gulp.
Yi Mo Baek drained the broth in one breath and rose from the bed.
“Thank you for everything while I was here.”
“You’re discharged already?”
“Since I can walk now, I should be on my way. I’ve caused quite a burden to the other monks here.”
Yi Mo Baek brought his palms together in gratitude and left the room.
“How strange. A moment ago, he was still swollen like a balloon.”
Cha Ul tilted his head in confusion.

The atmosphere was bleak.
Not a single breath could be heard.
“What did you say just now? Speak again.”
The face of Cheong Ak Seonsa, the Sutra Library’s director, turned rigid.
Before him stood a short, portly monk, holding his breath in barely suppressed tension.
“It’s like this.”
Un Woo Seonsa, Keeper of the Sutra Library.
He oversaw the Sutra Library, where the Jade Buddha Scripture—the Shaolin Patriarch’s heirloom—along with the Sect Treasure Classics were housed.
Once daily, he personally arranged the underground archive beneath the library and checked its security himself.
“Come. Show me at once.”
Cheong Ak Seonsa strode forward, his robes billowing behind him.

The Night-Luminous Pearl on the ceiling cast a dim, pale light.
No candles were lit for fear of fire, leaving the space somewhat dark, though this posed no difficulty for masters of profound inner strength.
Countless martial technique texts stood in orderly rows along the walls.
That famous Jade Buddha Scripture rests on a pedestal about half a foot high, and beside it sits a jade box for storing the Great Returning Pill.
“Amitabha Buddha!”
Cheong Ak Seonsa chanted the sacred invocation with trembling voice as he lifted the lid of the jade box.
It was empty.
The Great Returning Pill—ripe as a dried jujube—was gone.
The Great Returning Pill, along with the Jade Buddha Scripture and the Dharma Muscle-Tendon Transformation Scripture, ranks among Shaolin’s Sect Treasure Classics.
“Abbot!”
An urgent shout echoed through the underground chamber, and five aged monks emerged from the darkness.
One was Cheong O Seonsa, Master of the Arhat Hall.
The other four were gaunt, their faces pallid as paper, their patched robes riddled with stitching marks that spoke of years in seclusion.
The Four Great Vajras.
When one spoke of Shaolin, they were the supreme masters who came to mind first.
Hearing that the Great Returning Pill had vanished, even these recluses had rushed to answer the call.
“Merciful heavens!”
“Amitabha Buddha!”
The Four Great Vajras peered into the empty jade box and let out cries that were nearly shrieks.
A sudden flash—
Cheong Dong Seonsa, lowest-ranked among the Four Great Vajras, fixed his gaze upon Un Woo Seonsa, Master of the Sutra Library.
Though Un Woo Seonsa had only been stared at, his entire body trembled as if plunged into a furnace of flame.
“S-Seonsa!”
“What is the meaning of this?”
Un Woo Seonsa stammered.
“I… I truly do not yet know the full truth of it.”
“Silence!”
A crushing Lion’s Roar erupted forth, thick with wrath.
“Is that your answer? Tell me—what is the price for even one treasure of the Sutra Library going missing?”
“M-my martial arts shall be sealed away, and I shall be bound in golden chains and imprisoned in the Underground Thunder Cave.”
“Wretched thing!”
Cheong Dong Seonsa raised his hand.
In an instant it gleamed with golden light—the断金印.
So profound was this palm seal that since the time of the Dharma Grandmaster, no one had yet reached the Twelve Levels—it was a technique of ultimate power.
Un Woo Seonsa’s body shook violently.
The depth of the palm’s color revealed the level of cultivation, and this one appeared to burn at least at the eighth or ninth level.
A direct hit meant certain death.
“Enough. Striking someone down will not bring the Great Returning Pill back.”
Cheong Buk Seonsa, eldest of the Four Great Vajras, intervened.
“A curse upon all evil omens!”
Cheong Ak Seonsa, the Abbot, exhaled in despair.

Six aged monks sat in meditation pose.
The Abbot Cheong Ak Seonsa, the Arhat Hall Master Cheong O Seonsa, and the Four Great Vajras—Cheong Buk, Cheong Nam, Cheong Seo, and Cheong Dong.
All of them were brothers bearing the generational name “Cheong.”
One single Great Returning Pill remained.
The Dharma Grandmaster had created one hundred and eight Great Returning Pills in total.
Those one hundred and eight carried many meanings within them.
All living beings must one day perish.
Yet while alive, no living creature escapes myriad sorrows and sufferings.
This is called the 108 Afflictions.
The Great Returning Pill was meant to free one from those 108 Afflictions, attain the Way, and thereby deliver all sentient beings from torment.
Only the Abbot of Shaolin and the successor-Abbot after him were permitted to consume it.
Of those one hundred and eight, the very last had now vanished.
The Great Returning Pill—and the fact that it was the last of all—bore immense significance.
“We must find it.”
Cheong Dong Seonsa spoke.
“We must find it at any cost.”
“Do you know who took it?”
Cheong Buk Seonsa, senior among the Four Great Vajras, turned back to face him.
Cheong Dong’s eyes narrowed.
“Brother Cheong Buk!”
“I must search for it. But if I go about it recklessly, I may spill blood that cannot be undone.”
“Blood that cannot be undone?”

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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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