The Youngest Son of the Nanyang Jin Family - Chapter 141

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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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The Youngest Son of the Jin Family of Luoyang – Chapter 202

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Hye-myeong of Shaolin.
That name alone was enough to intimidate anyone.
No matter how many years he had spent secluded on Mount Song, completely withdrawn from the world, the fear and reverence that name inspired would never fade easily.
After all, he was rightfully called the strongest of the Three Emperors who sustained the martial world of this era.
And proof of this manifested right there in the conference hall.
The moment he entered, everyone froze in place, and not a single person could speak coherently in response to his words.
Because Mo Yong-cheon understood this better than anyone, his teeth ground together in fury and wounded pride—yet he simply turned and left without doing anything further.
Such was the weight carried by the name Gonghuang Hye-myeong.
I followed Hye-myeong as he departed the conference hall.
Whether because it had been so long since he last visited this place or his memories had grown hazy, he moved ahead of me, glancing this way and that as he searched his mind.
It seemed he couldn’t even recall where his own quarters were located.
“Hehehehe—my apologies. This old monk’s memory has grown poor with age.”
“It’s no trouble at all.”
I replied casually and waited a moment, when Hye-myeong’s eyes suddenly widened and he began moving toward a particular direction.
Gradually, we were moving farther away from the main pavilion situated within the Martial Arts Alliance.
Such places are commonly called by a single name.
The Inner Sanctum.
Even if someone were to breach the Martial Arts Alliance, reaching the Alliance Leader’s quarters deep within would certainly require considerable effort.
No—they would lose their lives before that.
It was situated that deep within.
Soon a long, straight corridor appeared, and as I followed it deeper inside, we drew closer to our destination—a firmly sealed door greeted us.
“Amitabha—this is the place.”
Hye-myeong pushed open the door without hesitation and stepped inside.
Following after him, I took one step through and beheld a beautifully arranged courtyard with several pavilions arranged throughout.
Hye-myeong entered the largest of these pavilions, then opened another door that came into view and stepped through.
This appeared to be the Alliance Leader’s private quarters.
The spacious interior was kept meticulously clean despite having remained unused for so long, which suggested it was maintained not out of consideration for the current Alliance Leader, but rather in anticipation of the next one.
With only the title existing and the position vacant, the Commander and the other senior members could have appointed a new Alliance Leader whenever they wished.
“Amitabha—it has truly been ages since I last visited. Hehehehe, please sit.”
Hye-myeong and I took our seats at a table prepared in one corner of the room.
Sitting across from each other, I could feel it.
The gaze of Hye-myeong’s eyes studying me slowly.
Not eyes that gleamed with sharpness or one who felt intrigue.
Rather, a gaze so gentle it seemed like the eyes of an imagined Buddha might appear thus.
Yet it was a perception that pierced through all things.
From beginning to end, leaving nothing untouched.
After gazing for quite some time, Hye-myeong stroked his beard with a puzzled expression before finally breaking the silence and speaking.
“This old monk has dwelt upon Songshan for many years now… Tell me, has the Jin Family of Nakhyang become a martial clan?”
“No. We remain a merchant family.”
“Hehehehe- A merchant family that produced a martial master? How amusing. Yet that level of attainment… is truly remarkable, indeed.”
Hye-myeong had certainly read my depth.
Whether he fully comprehended the profundity or not remained unclear, but he seemed aware that this was something unprecedented in the history of the martial world.
He then let out a hollow laugh and shook his head.
“At your age, this old monk boasts he could not have reached even half your level. Hehehehe.”
“You are too kind. I was merely fortunate.”
“Fortune alone cannot elevate one to such heights. It must be the blessing of the righteous path and the grace of Buddha. Amitabha Buddha.”
“Perhaps it is because my father made proper offerings. However, as I am a merchant’s son, I have no connection to the righteous path.”
“Amitabha Buddha.”
At my resolute words, Hye-myeong smiled gently and nodded.
There was no hint of disappointment or surprise in his expression—merely the acceptance that such was my conviction.
Hye-myeong, who had maintained his compassionate demeanor even at my unexpected answer, now withdrew a letter from his robes as if to broach the true purpose of summoning me.
“The reason this old monk wished to see you is simple. Did you truly send this?”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because I was certain that upon reading it, you would descend the mountain.”
“Hehehehe- So you deliberately sent this merely to lure this old monk down the mountain? At your age?”
Hye-myeong laughed as if bewildered, his brow furrowing. He seemed quite displeased that he had fallen so neatly into the scheme of a mere child.
Yet soon he steadied his breath and composed himself.
As one who walks the path of Buddha, he could not afford to lose his equanimity over such trivial matters.
Witnessing this, I allowed a small smile to cross my lips.
Simultaneously, Hye-myeong’s sharp voice reached my ears.
“Then I ask you—what is your relationship with Mu Heo?”
I paused to consider.
Gwanbaek and I share a bond—we knew the future and came to the past together. Yet I cannot claim closeness merely for such a reason, nor will I walk forward hand in hand with him.
In that sense, we are distant.
However, I have fully received the teachings of Mu Heo, who no longer exists, and it is true that he has looked after me in several matters.
By this measure, could we not be considered close?
“We are both close and distant.”
“Amitabha Buddha- Do you wish to engage in Zen dialogue with this old monk?”
“That is not my intention, but that is genuinely what I believe.”
After studying my expression for a moment, Hye-myeong seemed to accept that I spoke truthfully, and he swallowed a sigh while nodding.
Yet this was not what he wished to hear.
In the glance he cast toward me, there was an edge.
The compassionate expression of Buddha had vanished, and the slight hardening of his features revealed that his composure was beginning to fray.
Hye-myeong—a child of Buddha and the symbol of Shaolin.
While his overwhelming power was certainly a source of fear, the reason many dreaded Hye-myeong most was his temperament—far from what one would expect of a Buddhist monk.
I glanced briefly at the wooden fish.
Wondering if he might strike it in anger.
Fortunately, it seemed his fury had not reached its peak, for after steadying his breath, Hye-myeong turned his gaze back to me.
“An amusing jest, but it hardly aligns with the reason this old monk has stirred himself. Speak a proper answer. The Buddha’s compassion, too, is not always gentle.”
Hye-myeong quietly grasped the wooden fish resting upon the table.
Tap, tap, tap—
Merely watching him tap the wooden fish and compose his mind through Buddhist discipline, I could see him gathering his resolve lest his past nature suddenly burst forth.
Just from that alone, I realized how fortunate Mo Yong-cheon had been to leave the hall unscathed.
I wore a bitter smile.
The Death Emperor, Muk-hwang, and Gonghuang alike.
Each of them seemed to have something fundamentally twisted in their nature.
Before he could wield it, I spoke the words I had been holding back.
“Not long ago, someone I know turned away from this world. Yet that person worried greatly about you, Master.”
“…What do you mean?”
“They worried about you, who follows only in their footsteps.”
“…!?”
At those words, Hye-myeong struck the table and rose abruptly.
There was no one who could fail to grasp the meaning.
The word “Geomcheon’s death” must have surfaced in Hye-myeong’s mind.
“…Has he entered Nirvana…? Is this truly the case?”
The moment I heard his trembling voice, I nodded.
Though neither of us had spoken names, the flow of our conversation had centered entirely around Geomcheon Muheo, so it would be impossible not to understand.
And this is no falsehood.
Gwanbaek, who danced with his sword before me, had said it.
That it was Muheo’s final dance.
Which meant that Muheo would never emerge into this world again—that sword dance had been Geomcheon’s funeral.
Thus there is no lie in my words, and it shows in my expression.
Hye-myeong, scrutinizing my face intently, seemed unable to believe it, and with a hollow laugh, he sank back into his seat.
“One who ascended to heaven… how could it be so easy….”
“Is it not true that the Mandate of Heaven cannot be resisted?”
“…Amitabha Buddha.”
“Until his final moment, he harbored much regret. For having lived obsessed with the sword. And he worried greatly about you, Master, who follows in his wake.”
“You… speak of this old monk?”
As I nodded, Hye-myeong shut his eyes tightly.
Many thoughts must have flooded his mind.

Geomcheon.

The shock that comes with the death of an absolute being who had reached the realm of Half-Immortality. Moreover, according to Haomu’s intelligence, weren’t Hye-myeong before my eyes and Mu Heo at that time said to be of similar age?
Yet the one who ascended to heaven fulfilled his celestial mandate and died, while I, who never reached that pinnacle, still draw breath.
Ascending to heaven does not inherently extend one’s lifespan, and even such an absolute being could not overcome what heaven had decreed.
I formed a small smile at the corner of my lips.
“If you attempt to discard your mind, you cannot discard it, and if you seek to empty it, it only becomes fuller. They say that by laughing, speaking freely, and living intertwined with others, emptiness and abandonment come naturally. I would hope you did not spend your days gazing only toward heaven.”
“…!”
At my words, Hye-myeong’s pupils trembled greatly.
As if he had directly heard with his own ears something he had thought of but refused to think about, something he knew but refused to acknowledge.
Naturally, these words were not spoken by Gwanbaek.
They were from Gu Gunbaek himself.
Among the countless words he had spoken in the past, these were precious teachings that I could not forget no matter how I tried.
Thanks to them, I was fortunate enough to overcome that wall.
But unlike me, Hye-myeong, even upon hearing these words, did not seem to experience such a sudden awakening, yet soon closed his eyes tightly and fell into contemplation.
Many thoughts must be flooding through him.
For this was the moment when he questioned whether everything he had pursued until now was merely fleeting illusion.
I watched the situation in silence for a moment.
With Hye-myeong’s eyes gently closed, and myself holding my tongue as well, the room had gradually filled with quiet stillness.
Soon, Hye-myeong opened his eyes.
Brilliance kindled in the aged monk’s eyes.
Then a smile formed at the corners of his mouth.
“Amitabha—it seems Geomcheon found a worthy disciple in his final years.”
“….”
At this misunderstanding that reached my ears once more, I said nothing.
To neither affirm nor deny was the approach that typically created the most satisfying outcome in such moments.
“Then, what is it that you wish of this old monk? It does not seem you sought me out merely to speak such words.”
“Now you must stop pursuing and attend to what must be done, must you not?”
“What must be done, you say….”
Hye-myeong trailed off and looked around the surroundings.
He seemed to be contemplating the excessively ornate furnishings of the room and this Martial Arts Alliance, a place one could never imagine as a dwelling for a Shaolin monk.
For those who pursue the Buddhist path, it was not merely excessive but pure extravagance.
I observed through the eyes of Hye-myeong as he looked silently about.
“As an elder of the righteous path and the martial world, should you not restore discipline to the Alliance?”
At my single remark, he closed his eyes gently once more, falling into thought. Weighing what was right and what was wrong, whether he truly belonged in this place—such deliberations played across his countenance.
But the answer came swiftly.
Sure enough, the moment his eyes slowly opened.
Hye-myeong’s pupils gleamed with vibrant vitality.

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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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