Chapter v17c7

“Th-Thank you for saving me… um… Master!”

Jin So-ryeong, wanting to express her gratitude properly, struggled to find the right words to address this mysterious man. “Young hero,” “honored sir,” “venerable elder,” “senior,” “brother,” “oppa”… She finally settled on “Master,” the most neutral and respectful term.

He shook his head.

“You saved yourself. Your refusal to give up moved my heart. There’s no need for thanks. Just praise yourself for not giving up until the very end. Tell yourself, ‘Good job, you did well, you’re amazing, I’m proud of you.'”

“But… still, thank you. Even with a strong will, I couldn’t have changed anything without the ability to back it up. If it weren’t for your help, Master, I would have been… violated by those villains. A thousand thanks wouldn’t be enough to repay your kindness. You saved my present and my future. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Sincere words of gratitude always resonated pleasantly. He smiled at her sincerity and offered one last piece of advice.

“But remember, this was just a coincidence. Luck is something you create with your own will and ability. Strive to overcome yourself and achieve enlightenment.”

“I’ll engrave your words in my heart and never forget them. Even after a long time, your words will remain with me.”

“I hope you’ll keep your word.”

It was time to go.

“Well, this is goodbye.”

“Um…”

Jin So-ryeong hesitated.

“Will I see you again?”

Her blushing cheeks were adorable. He smiled kindly.

“If fate allows it.”

She smiled brightly and nodded. He patted her head one last time.

“You look a lot like your mother. But you’ve become even more beautiful and strong. Farewell.”

Her head shot up.

“You knew my mother…?”

But he was already walking away, his figure receding into the distance.

He waved instead of answering. And then, he was gone.

They never saw each other again.

He was gone. The others stared after him, as if in a trance. Hye-wol, still trembling with awe, was especially moved. Jin So-ryeong, approaching the old elder, asked cautiously,

“Um… Elder?”

It took her five tries to get a response. And even then, it was a halfhearted one. She had to ask her question before Hye-wol drifted back into her own world.

“Who was that man?”

His power had been beyond human comprehension. He was someone that Hye-wol, one of the oldest and most respected martial artists in Sichuan, had prostrated herself before, someone she had wanted to introduce to the Emei Sect’s leader. He was no ordinary person.

“You mean you were with him and you don’t even know who he is?”

“Yes…”

She nodded reluctantly. She couldn’t bring herself to say, “You didn’t know who he was at first either, did you?” Or, “We were actually quite rude to him.” She had barely escaped with her life. She didn’t want to die again.

“Tsk, tsk. You’re lucky. You got to see him with your own eyes… It’s something you can brag about for generations. You saw a legend, breathed the same air as him, shared a conversation with him. If you’re lucky, your names might even be mentioned in his legend. Though today’s events were a bit too insignificant for that.”

Hye-wol, her eyes shining with admiration, leaned in and whispered,

“He’s the one who created one of the two pillars that support and guide the current martial arts world.”

Boom!

Her mind went blank. She remembered his voice, his kind smile, his protective embrace.

*”Are you alright, little miss?”*

*”You look a lot like your mother.”*

She remembered his large, warm shadow, his strong arms catching her when she fell from a tree as a child. It had been over ten years ago. But she had known who he was. He was a legend, a myth, the savior of the Jianghu, the God of Martial Arts.

“Th-Then he’s… Gah!”

“Gah!”

Jin So-ryeong froze, then fainted. She collapsed, as if encased in ice that would never melt.

***

Throughout history, chaos had never been completely subdued by order. It always existed, lurking in the shadows, as tenacious as cockroaches. It was easier to create chaos than to maintain order. The slightest disruption could tip the balance. Order was an unnatural state in this ever-changing world. Was the pursuit of order just a rebellion against the impermanence of existence?

The shadow of a mountain peak finally engulfed him. The man in the straw hat paused, tilting his hat back, gazing at the towering peak before him. The setting sun cast long shadows, painting the world in hues of twilight.

“I’ve changed so much since I left this place, but it’s still the same… unchanged.”

Nature was constantly changing, but to him, it looked exactly the same as it had that morning, when he had left, bathed in the dawn’s light.

He pulled his hat back down and continued walking, entering the mountain’s embrace. He was almost there. His steps grew heavier as he approached his destination, as if an invisible force was weighing him down.

Why did he have to walk this path, of all paths? Buddha had preached that all life was suffering, but this was too much. If there was a department of fate in heaven, he would have filed a mountain of complaints.

Should he just turn back and pretend this never happened? It was a tempting thought, a desperate attempt to escape the lingering regret that had taken root in his heart. A part of him longed for the easy way out.

The path of least resistance was always tempting. All you had to do was give up. Hope always demanded more effort than it delivered. It was never a profitable investment.

But he shook his head. There was a saying, “It’s better to have never started than to stop halfway.” Why bother going if he wasn’t going to see it through to the end? It was a waste of time and effort. He could have chosen a different destination if he had never left in the first place.

“It’s been so many years since I left this place…”

He gazed at the emerald world, bathed in the twilight, a wistful expression on his face. He had changed, but nature remained the same, welcoming him with its timeless embrace.

The weather was clear, with only a few clouds drifting across the vast blue sky. Nature was infinite, and he was alone.

He suddenly felt a pang of loneliness.

Many of his followers had died. They had been his trusted comrades, his loyal friends. But they were gone now. Those who had shared his vision had left him behind. Only one remained, his most trusted companion. He knew he had to carry the memories of those who had died, their burning passion, their unwavering spirit, in his heart for the rest of his life.

He and his friend were now walking different paths. He hoped their paths would converge again someday, but he didn’t know if that would ever happen. It was beyond his horizon, beyond his ability to predict. The horizon of time was approaching, drawing closer than he could measure.

“It won’t be long now.”

A sad smile appeared on his lips.

He had realized eighty years ago that he couldn’t face the next crisis in his current state. His imagination wasn’t that limited. But he couldn’t give up either. The laws of the world weren’t that forgiving.

So he and his trusted comrade had formulated a grand plan, a plan spanning a century, to strengthen the weak and fragmented martial arts world, to prepare it for the impending calamity. It was a vision of systematic education. He had the will, the determination, and the ability to make it happen. And so, two institutions were born.

The Heavenly Martial Academy and the Heavenly Demon Pavilion.

The order of the Jianghu was reshaped, the world transformed. People finally began to seriously consider the importance of training and teaching. It was a vast improvement compared to the past, when such things were barely even considered.

Change couldn’t occur with only yang. And it couldn’t occur with only yin either. It was the harmonious balance of yin and yang that drove the endless cycle of change.

“The seeds have been sown. Now, I can only pray that they blossom into magnificent flowers.”

He had done what he could for the world. Now, it was time to focus on himself. The Confucian saying went, “Cultivate yourself, regulate your family, govern the state, and bring peace to the world.” But he was doing it in reverse order. He had already achieved a level of self-cultivation, but the horizon of self-improvement was infinitely expanding.

It was time to surpass himself once again. That was why he had returned to this place, a place he had sworn never to revisit.

To overcome himself.

The forest opened up, revealing a small, humble hut bathed in sunlight. He had finally reached the source, the origin.

An old man with a long, white beard was sitting at a table in the spacious courtyard, a wine cup in his hand. There was no other cup.

The old man, who had been drinking alone, turned his head and looked at him. The man’s heart pounded in his chest. His lips were dry, his throat parched. But the old man’s reaction was brief.

“Oh, it’s you.”

That was all he said. He poured himself another cup of wine, filling it to the brim, and drank it in one gulp. The cup remained in his hand.

“Yes, Master.”

The man replied. What kind of expression was he making? He felt a strange sense of dissonance, unable to see his own face. Eyes were made to see other things, not themselves.

“It’s been a while, Master.”

He bowed respectfully, his left hand covering his right fist.

“It has been a while.”

The old man counted on his fingers for a moment, then stopped, realizing the futility of it. He wasn’t going to put down his wine cup, and even if he did, it wouldn’t be enough.

“…Almost ninety years, to be exact.”

“Hmm, is that so? I suppose it has been that long.”

“Are you getting senile already?”

“I remember when you wet the bed and trembled in fear.”

“You can forget about that.”

“Or when you collapsed in front of an inn’s back door, starving and filthy, next to the trash.”

“…”

He felt a lump in his throat. He had forgotten about those incidents. Or rather, he had tried his best to forget them. He wouldn’t have survived that hell without this man’s help.

“What brings you here? I thought our connection was severed. Or are you looking for a place to die? I can’t afford to be your undertaker. Find another place to die. I’m busy.”

The old man said gruffly.

A faint smile, as warm as the sun, appeared on the man’s lips.

“You haven’t changed a bit, Master.”

He was exactly the same as he had been when the man had left. That was what surprised him the most.

“You seem to have forgotten something. Well, it’s been a long time. I understand.”

“…”

“So let me remind you.”

The old man said firmly.

“I am not your master!”