Chapter 275 – Let Go (2)

“Just what is this… Ugh.”

Yi-gang swallowed the porridge.

The thin porridge was completely flavorless.

“No need to feed me, really… hm.”

Jeong Myung silently continued feeding him.

He tried to raise his hand to stop him, but it still wouldn’t move.

“Does it suit your taste?”

“…Yes.”

“Temple food is rather plain. Even the visitors often complain about it.”

“Hm.”

Yi-gang couldn’t help but agree.

At least if they’d added some vegetables, it would have been more bearable.

Noticing his expression, Jeong Myung commented, “Once your condition improves, I’ll add an egg for you. A bit of sesame oil and salt should make it better.”

“Do temples serve eggs?”

“Patients or young novice monks are allowed to eat eggs occasionally. Even us martial monks do.”

Yi-gang gave up and accepted the porridge.

He then examined his body.

Now, he naturally tried to circulate his True Qi as easily as breathing.

The Azure Forest’s Wisdom Mind Art was less effective for inner strength improvement but was a remarkable orthodox cultivation technique.

Even when he tried to move his True Qi smoothly, it felt as though a heavy stone was lodged in his dantian.

This sensation was familiar.

It wasn’t that Yi-gang’s inner energy had disappeared; it was due to external interference.

Sensing Yi-gang’s thoughts, Jeong Myung explained, “The Divine Monk himself performed acupressure. Perhaps we should call it a blocked acupoint.”

“…Did he say why?”

“I don’t know the exact reason, but it’s said to be for your recovery. Moving your True Qi recklessly could cause the demonic energy to spread throughout your body…”

Although Jeong Myung claimed he didn’t know much, his explanation was easy to understand.

Zhang Sanfeng had clashed with the Heavenly Demon using Yi-gang’s body. During this, the demonic energy had invaded him.

“…”

Yi-gang suddenly felt an emptiness realizing Zhang Sanfeng was not there.

The Heavenly Demon’s Plaque, which sealed both the Heavenly Demon and Zhang Sanfeng, did Dam Hyun have it, or had it been entrusted here in Shaolin?

“He said you should refrain from circulating True Qi until you’re fully recovered.”

“My arms, were my arms also subject to acupressure?”

“…No, they weren’t.”

Yi-gang looked down at his arms.

His entire body was wrapped in thick bandages, leaving only his arms exposed.

From his fingertips to his forearms, his skin was pitch black.

Starting from the middle of his forearm, the blackness followed his veins up to his shoulders.

Even when he tried to apply strength, his fingers wouldn’t move.

Although numb, he was at least grateful that some sensation remained.

“This must be the influence of the demonic energy, right?”

“That’s likely the case.”

Yi-gang let out a laugh.

His arms looked as if they had decayed.

Still, perhaps he should be grateful they hadn’t been severed.

“Can it be cured?”

“Grand Master Mu Myung has vowed to do everything possible.”

“After all, I’ve taken the Great Recovery Pill.”

“That’s correct.”

He vaguely remembered taking the Great Recovery Pill, a miraculous medicine.

Having consumed such a rare elixir, he should be circulating his True Qi to verify its effects, but he couldn’t.

“…Try not to worry too much. Grand Master will provide the best help.”

At a glance, the condition of his arms looked severe.

However, Yi-gang wasn’t overly despondent.

Surviving was what mattered most.

Even if he had lost both arms, it would still be better than dying.

“…”

“Please stay here and focus on recovering.”

“I will do that.”

“Would you like to join the morning prayer service?”

Yi-gang was a Taoist.

But this was Shaolin. Why wouldn’t he follow the routine of the Shaolin monks?

“Sure.”

With that, Yi-gang rose to his feet.

In order to attend the prayer service, he would need to tidy his appearance.

As Yi-gang attempted to put on his robe, he was taken aback.

With his arms immobile, he couldn’t possibly dress himself.

Jeong Myung naturally helped him put on his outer garment.

“Would you like to wash your face?”

Yi-gang was about to decline the offer, sensing Jeong Myung’s intention to help with even this task, but he quickly realized he was in no position to refuse.

“…Yes.”

“One moment.”

Jeong Myung went outside and returned with a bowl filled with water.

Despite it being summer, the water was extremely cold.

Jeong Myung began to wash Yi-gang’s face.

The hands of a martial monk, trained in the Shaolin Fist, were rough and made the experience somewhat uncomfortable.

It was an unfamiliar feeling to have someone wash his face—something he hadn’t experienced since childhood.

Yi-gang felt both awkward and powerless.

“…Venerable Jeong Myung, you must be busy with your own training. Is it alright to spend your time assisting me?”

Jeong Myung was a remarkable genius known by the epithet Shaolin’s First Fist.

Even at the Dragon-Phoenix Conference, he had demonstrated skills surpassing those of Baek Ha-jun and Moyong Jin, proving himself an exceptional fist fighter.

For someone like him to be looking after Yi-gang seemed rather out of place.

“They say daily life itself is meditation. Please don’t concern yourself.”

With hands folded in a prayer gesture, Jeong Myung spoke as though he had gained greater enlightenment than before.

Yi-gang nodded in response.

He then followed Jeong Myung outside.

“…It’s still dawn.”

Outside, it was surprisingly still dark.

Since Jeong Myung had quickly brought porridge, Yi-gang had assumed it was already morning.

“The day starts early in the temple.”

“I see.”

Along with the soft tapping of the wooden percussion instrument, he could hear the monks chanting sutras.

It was the ceremonial morning chant being recited by the monks of the Incense Burner Hall at dawn.

Yi-gang caught the faint aroma of incense.

Beside him, an old monk with graying hair, not quite neatly trimmed, was stirring a pot of porridge in front of a cauldron.

The old monk, meeting Yi-gang’s gaze, put his hands together in a greeting.

Attempting to greet him back, Yi-gang realized he couldn’t move his hands, so he bowed instead.

A strange expression crossed Yi-gang’s face.

At that moment, Jeong Myung began explaining the monks’ routine.

“As Venerable No-jeon chants the morning ritual, we ready ourselves, then proceed to the main hall for the dawn prayer.”

“I thought the monks of Shaolin only trained in martial arts.”

“Even as martial monks, we are still just monks.”

Their lifestyle was as rigorous as that of the Taoists of Wudang.

It was no wonder that Shaolin was regarded as the pinnacle of Murim.

Many others, along with Yi-gang and Jeong Myung, were making their way to the main hall.

No one had instructed them, but they all lined up and walked in a single file.

Everyone held their hands respectfully, except for Yi-gang, who stood out as he couldn’t do the same.

Yi-gang quietly observed those around him.

A young novice monk rubbing his eyes.

A martial monk with an impressive physique, almost mysteriously strong despite a vegetarian diet.

A scholarly monk so thin he looked like he might topple over with a gentle push.

On the way to the main hall, he spotted three such individuals.

‘Three masters.’

They were undoubtedly three Supreme Peak masters.

Only they were captured by Yi-gang’s sharp senses.

‘No, it’s four. Including the old monk who was cooking porridge earlier.’

The old monk’s level was so profound that even Yi-gang found it hard to gauge.

Shaolin didn’t only consist of martial monks who received Dharma names and formally trained in martial arts.

There were also scholarly monks who dedicated themselves to Buddhist studies, as well as those who mastered martial arts but never ventured beyond the temple walls.

This was the true strength of the Shaolin Temple.

The monks in gray robes exuded an unusual aura. There was more than just one or two masters.

“Hey, Benefactor.”

The one who called out to Yi-gang wasn’t Jeong Myung.

The high monk standing in front of the main hall was looking directly at Yi-gang.

Yi-gang recognized him at once.

“Grand Master Mu Myung.”

The Divine Monk, Mu Myung, was standing before the hall.

With his aged body, he smiled gently.

“You seem troubled.”

“…Do I?”

“Let go of your worries and delusions.”

Yi-gang had many questions but kept his mouth shut.

It sounded like a rebuke.

Could it be that Mu Myung noticed how Yi-gang, even on his way to the prayer service, was discerning between masters and non-masters?

“Do you wish to forget?”

“…I’m not certain.”

“That is also good.”

Yi-gang furrowed his brow.

Was this what he had only heard about—Zen dialogue?

The Divine Monk’s words were cryptic and difficult to understand.

“I will teach you a way to forget your worries.”

“Pardon?”

“Take this!”

Suddenly, the Divine Monk threw the wooden percussion instrument he was holding straight at Yi-gang.

Yi-gang reflexively tried to catch it, but his arms wouldn’t move, and he missed it.

The wooden instrument bounced off his chest and rolled onto the ground.

“You cannot even accept what is given to you. You are still unprepared. Hahaha!”

Yi-gang’s face twisted in annoyance.

The Divine Monk laughed heartily as he walked away, and the young novice following him quickly picked up the wooden instrument and hurried after him.

“Is he always… like that?”

Yi-gang barely managed to ask instead of bluntly calling him difficult.

Jeong Myung gave a slightly awkward smile and nodded.

Yi-gang entered the main hall with the Shaolin monks.

He knelt down and joined in the morning prayer service.

As expected, it was an extremely tedious process.

Moreover, he couldn’t resist the wave of drowsiness washing over him.

It was due to his body still recovering. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have fallen asleep while kneeling.

Gradually, he slipped into a deep slumber.

Thwack!

Yi-gang’s eyes flew open as something struck his shoulder.

No matter how tired he was, to have fallen asleep without sensing an attack—it jolted him awake.

“Ugh!”

He tried to draw his sword, but his arms wouldn’t move.

Instinctively, he used a kick technique, pivoting on his right foot and swinging his left foot backward, targeting the level where his opponent’s chin might be.

It was a fierce kick, strong enough to knock someone unconscious.

Smack!

There was a clear sound of impact.

But Yi-gang didn’t manage to strike down the ambusher.

What he hit was a wooden staff.

The Divine Monk was holding the staff, smiling faintly.

“There’s a demon lodged in your mind.”

“My apologies… Ah.”

Yi-gang staggered, nearly falling.

He barely managed to regain his stance and stand up, noticing that the hall, once filled with monks, was now nearly empty.

Even Jeong Myung, who had been looking after him, was gone.

Only Yi-gang and the Divine Monk remained in the spacious hall.

“Even in your sleep, your expression was far from gentle. Your face was filled with murderous intent.”

“…”

Did he really wear such an expression while sleeping?

Yi-gang was calm. Even in turbulent situations, he rarely lost his composure.

For a martial artist, an unshakable mind was essential.

That budongsim was undoubtedly one of Yi-gang’s strengths.

“Is that so?”

“All I did was tap your shoulder because you were grinding your teeth and causing a ruckus, yet you tried to smash this old monk’s jaw, didn’t you?”

Despite that, the Divine Monk had easily blocked Yi-gang’s kick technique.

Yi-gang lowered his voice and apologized.

“My apologies.”

“It’s fine.”

The Divine Monk chuckled softly, leaning on his wooden staff.

By now, the sun had risen high, and a beam of sunlight streamed into the hall.

“Do you think your body is the only thing that’s ill?”

“…”

He couldn’t use his arms.

For a martial artist, it’s almost as good as an end.

“Fixing your arms won’t be the end of it.”

“Then what?”

“You must also tend to your torn and battered soul.”

“And how do I do that?”

“Meditate and attain dunwu!”

Zen meditation was a method monks used to seek enlightenment.

Dunwu meant the enlightenment itself.

Yi-gang thought for a moment and then asked, “Is it even possible to heal my arms?”

“You don’t seem to listen to a word I say.”

The monk chuckled heartily.

“I don’t know.”

“…”

“The demonic energy trying to take over your arms is incredibly vicious. The Great Recovery Pill is keeping the Heaven Slaying Star’s demonic Qi from spreading through your entire body.”

The demonic Qi of the Heavenly Demon was that dangerous.

“I don’t know if it can be fully driven out. But one thing is certain, you won’t be able to use your arms for quite some time.”

It seemed there was still a glimmer of hope.

The Divine Monk spoke to Yi-gang as if giving an order.

“If you want to heal your arms, live as though you don’t have them for the time being.”

“…”

“Don’t use your internal energy either. Live as though you have no dantian.”

“Will that heal them?”

“I told you, I don’t know.”

How could he remain indifferent at the thought that he might never use his arms again?

Thankfully, the Divine Monk wasn’t entirely unsympathetic.

“I’m not doing this to torment you. Even though I have nothing better to do in my old age, I don’t take pleasure in needlessly picking on a young cripple.”

“A cripple?”

“What, does being called a cripple offend you?”

“It’s not exactly pleasant to hear.”

“If you can’t heal your arms, you will inevitably become a cripple. Don’t cling to titles or names.”

Yi-gang fell into deep thought for a moment.

Then, he nodded.

“I will do as you say.”

“Good, at least your response is clear.”

“There’s no use denying it; it won’t change anything.”

“If you truly live as though you have no arms, there is certainly hope for recovery.”

To abandon in order to gain?

“As the Avatamsaka Sutra says: A tree must abandon its blossoms to bear fruit, and a river must abandon its course to reach the sea.”

There was a profound wisdom in the Divine Monk’s words.

Yi-gang carefully asked, “Are you intending to teach me?”

The Divine Monk was among the Ten Grandmasters in the world.

Was this Absolute master offering to impart his teachings to Yi-gang?

However, the Divine Monk denied it.

“Don’t expect me to do what my old friend Jang Gyeong did.”

Jang Gyeong, now the Sword Emperor, had ascended beyond the mortal realm.

The Divine Monk’s words implied he wouldn’t be teaching martial arts as Jang Gyeong had.

“Instead, I will place some individuals by your side, ones you can observe and learn from.”

The Divine Monk called out to someone, pressing his hand against the door of the hall.

“Come in.”

And soon, three people entered the hall.

Yi-gang’s eyes widened in surprise.

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