The Youngest Son of the Nanyang Jin Family - Chapter 202
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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 inactive, the fear and reverence that name inspired would not easily fade.
After all, he was arguably the strongest of the Three Emperors who truly upheld the martial world in this era.
The conference hall bore witness to this truth.
The moment he entered, everyone froze in place, and not a single person could speak coherently in response to his words.
Mo Yong-cheon, understanding this better than anyone, had his teeth clenched in fury and wounded pride, yet he simply turned and left without taking further action.
Such was the weight carried by the name Gonghuang Hye-myeong.
I followed Hye-myeong out of the conference hall and moved through the corridors.
Whether it was because he had not visited in so long or his memory had grown hazy, he walked ahead, glancing this way and that as he tried to recall the path.
It seemed he could not even remember where his own quarters were located.
“Hehehehe—my apologies. This old monk’s memory has grown poor with age.”
“It is no trouble at all.”
I spoke without concern and waited briefly, when Hye-myeong’s eyes suddenly brightened and he began moving toward a particular direction.
Gradually, we were moving away from the main hall situated within the Martial Arts Alliance.
Such places are commonly called by one name.
The Inner Sanctum.
Even if someone were to breach the Martial Arts Alliance’s defenses, reaching the Alliance Leader’s quarters deep within would require considerable effort.
Or rather, they would lose their life in the attempt.
The quarters were situated that deep within.
Soon, a straight corridor came into view, and as we proceeded deeper along it, we drew closer to our destination—a firmly closed door greeted us.
“Amitabha Buddha—this is the place.”
Hye-myeong opened the door without hesitation and stepped inside.
Following him through, I saw a beautifully arranged courtyard with several pavilions arranged within it.
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 personal quarters.
The spacious interior was kept immaculately clean despite having remained unused for so long, which suggested it was maintained not out of consideration for Hye-myeong, but rather in anticipation of the next Alliance Leader.
With only a name and an empty seat, the Commander and the other senior members could have appointed a new Alliance Leader whenever they wished.
“Amitabha Buddha—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 chamber.
Sitting across from him, I could feel it.
The gaze of Hye-myeong studying me slowly.
Not eyes that gleamed with sharpness, nor those of one seized by curiosity.
Rather, his eyes possessed a gentleness as if they belonged to an imagined Buddha himself.
Yet within them lay a perception that pierced through all things.
Everything, from beginning to end, without a single thing left out.
After gazing at me for quite some time, Hye-myeong stroked his beard with a puzzled expression before finally breaking the silence and speaking.
“It has been quite some time since this old monk entered Songshan… In that span, has the Jin Family of Nakhyang become a martial clan?”
“No. We remain a merchant family.”
“Hehehehe— A merchant family, yet one has become a martial master? How amusing. And that level of power… it is truly remarkable, indeed.”
Hye-myeong had undoubtedly read my level.
Whether he fully comprehended the depths of my cultivation or not remained unclear, but it seemed he recognized 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 half of what you have achieved. Hehehehe.”
“You are too kind. I have merely been fortunate.”
“Fortune alone cannot elevate one to such heights. It must be the blessings of the orthodox sect and the grace of Buddha. Amitabha.”
“I suspect it is because my father made proper offerings. However, since I am a merchant by trade, I have no connection to the orthodox sect.”
“Amitabha.”
At my resolute words, Hye-myeong smiled gently and nodded his head.
There was no trace of regret or surprise in his expression. It was simply the look of someone accepting that this was what I believed.
Hye-myeong, whose compassionate expression and demeanor remained unchanged even at my unexpected answer, seemed ready to broach the main reason he had summoned me, and he withdrew a letter from his robes and held it up.
“The reason this old monk wished to see you is none other than this. Was it truly you who sent this?”
“It was.”
“Why did you do so?”
“Because I was certain that upon receiving it, you would descend the mountain.”
“Hehehehe— So you deliberately sent this merely to make an old monk descend the mountain? Is that it?”
Hye-myeong laughed as if bewildered, his brow furrowing. He seemed quite displeased that he had fallen so neatly into the scheme of what amounted to a child’s trick.
However, he soon steadied his breath and composed himself.
It seemed he was reminding himself that one who walks the path of Buddha must not lose equanimity over such trivial matters.
Watching this, I allowed a small smile to cross my lips.
At the same moment, 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 connection—we knew the future and came to the past together. However, 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.
Yet I have fully received the teachings of Mu Heo, who no longer exists, and it is also true that he has looked after me in several matters.
Viewed this way, could we be considered close?
“We are both close and distant.”
“Amitabha— Are you attempting to engage this old monk in Zen dialogue?”
“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 his head.
But this was not what he wished to hear.
There was an edge to the gaze he cast upon me.
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 called 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 disciple.
I glanced briefly at the wooden bell on the table.
Wondering if he might strike it in anger.
Fortunately, it seemed his fury hadn’t reached its peak, for after steadying his breath, Hye-myeong fixed his gaze upon me once more.
“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 bell resting upon the table.
Tap-tap-tap—
Merely watching him strike the bell and compose his mind through Buddhist discipline revealed how he was steeling himself lest his past nature suddenly burst forth.
It alone made me realize how fortunate Mo Yong-cheon had been to escape the hall unscathed.
I offered 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 that bell, I spoke the words I had prepared.
“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 way anyone could fail to grasp the meaning.
The word “Geomcheon’s death” must have surfaced in Hye-myeong’s mind.
“…Has he entered Nirvana…? Is that truly the case?”
The moment I heard his trembling voice, I nodded.
Though we had not spoken each other’s names, the entire flow of our conversation had revolved around Geomcheon Muheo, so there was no way he could remain ignorant even if he wished to.
And this is no falsehood.
Gwanbaek, who had danced with his sword before me, had said it.
That it was Muheo’s final dance.
Which meant Muheo would never again emerge into this world, making that sword dance Geomcheon’s funeral rite.
Thus there is no lie in my words, and it shows in my expression.
Hye-myeong, studying 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 easily….”
“Is it not true that the Mandate of Heaven cannot be defied?”
“…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 Hao Wen’s information, weren’t Hye-myeong before my eyes and Mu Heo at that time said to be of similar ages?
Yet the one who ascended to heaven completed his heavenly mandate and died, while I, who never reached that height, still draw breath.
Ascending to heaven does not simply extend one’s lifespan, and even such an absolute being must have felt that they could not overcome what heaven had ordained.
I formed a small smile at the corner of my lips.
“If you attempt to abandon your heart, you cannot abandon it, and if you try to empty it, it only fills further. They say that by laughing, making noise, and living intertwined with others, things naturally empty and are discarded. I would hope you do not spend your days gazing only upward at heaven.”
“…!”
At my words, Hye-myeong’s eyes trembled greatly.
As if he had directly heard with his own ears something he had thought about but tried not to think, something he knew but refused to acknowledge.
Naturally, these words were not spoken by Gwanbaek.
Rather, they were from Gu Gunbaek.
Among the countless things he once said, these were precious words that I could not forget even if I wished to.
Thanks to them, I was fortunate enough to overcome that wall.
But unlike me, Hye-myeong, even upon hearing this, did not seem to experience such clarity of enlightenment, yet soon closed his eyes tightly and fell into contemplation.
Many thoughts must be stirring within him.
For this must be the moment when he questions whether everything he has pursued thus far was merely fleeting illusion.
I watched the situation in silence for a moment.
With Hye-myeong’s eyes gently closed, and I too keeping my mouth shut, the room had gradually filled with quiet stillness.
Soon, Hye-myeong opened his eyes.
A gleam of vitality settled in the wrinkled eyes of the old monk.
Then, a smile formed at the corner of his mouth.
“Amitabha—Geomcheon has taken on a fine disciple in his later years.”
“….”
At this misunderstanding that came again, I said nothing.
Choosing neither to affirm nor deny is because in such moments, allowing people to think as they will usually creates the most satisfying outcome.
“Then, what is it that this old monk can do for you? 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 his surroundings.
He seemed to be contemplating the excessively ornate furnishings of the room and this Martial Arts Alliance, which could not be considered a place where Buddhist monks would dwell.
For those who pursue the Buddhist path, it was not merely excessive but pure extravagance.
I gazed into the eyes of Hye-myeong, who was looking around in silence.
“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 and fell into thought. Weighing what was right and what was wrong, whether he truly belonged in this place—such deliberations played across his face.
But the answer came quickly.
Sure enough, the moment his eyes slowly opened.
Hye-myeong’s eyes sparkled with overflowing 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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