episode_0028

“Excuse me. I tend not to listen to bald people.”

“…”

Watching Cheongun commit murder with such skill, the monk gave a wry smile.

The boy before him was one who walked the path of the Dao.

He could tell just from the pure profound energy emanating from his internal energy.

Since Daoism and Buddhism were ultimately of the same branch, it was a truth one could see just by looking into his eyes, which were said to be the windows to the soul.

Yet, his actions were so cruel.

He showed no hesitation whatsoever in taking a life.

“Did you really have to get blood on your hands?”

“What a foolish thing to say.”

“Young Hero, anger focused solely on the concept of retribution is not good for spiritual cultivation.”

It was sincere advice.

But Cheongun found it ridiculous.

Originally, there was one unspoken rule that martial artists in the *jianghu* observed.

That was, not to commit murder recklessly in front of Shaolin disciples.

It wasn’t a rule born out of respect for Shaolin, but rather one created to avoid the annoying bald monks who would stubbornly cling to you, insistent on ‘guiding’ you after you’d committed even a single act of murder.

Shaving their heads and even being vegetarian, they clearly had a screw loose somewhere.

What could one do when annoying fellows armed with all sorts of illogical arguments were also strong in martial arts? Avoiding them was the best policy.

But Cheongun had no intention of avoiding them.

The bald monks who preached non-killing in the face of the *jianghu*’s blood-soaked history were all out of their minds.

This was the world inside a game.

Cheongun had sunk a whopping 20,000 hours into this place alone.

Among all that playtime, was there no Shaolin start?

Cheongun had already become the Shaolin abbot, conquered the *jianghu*, and even ascended to immortality.

He had spread the taboo of meat-eating among them.

He had also spread the new concept of ‘enlightening villains by killing them’ multiple times.

This was why Cheongun liked the Shaolin start.

Because there was nothing more satisfying than tearing apart the minds of those dogmatic bald monks.

Cheongun clasped his hands together in a perfect Buddhist greeting posture and asked.

“Then what does the Avatamsaka Sutra mean by ‘One is All, All is One’?”

At that question, the monk’s expression brightened considerably.

Because interest in Buddhist teachings was always welcome.

“It means that one is all, and all is one…”

“One villain is the evil of the world, and removing that evil is for the good of all.”

“Pardon? No, that’s not what it means…”

Before the monk could finish speaking, Cheongun interjected.

“Doesn’t the Diamond Sutra also say, ‘Produce a mind which is nowhere dwelling’? To produce a mind without dwelling on anything. Since I swung my sword as my heart desired, wouldn’t you say that is truly the state of ‘no-thought, no-mind’?”

“What…?”

The monk was genuinely flustered.

Because it was the first time in his life he had seen a being interpret scripture in such a way.

“In the Dhammapada, it is said, ‘Do not repay evil with evil’, but I am repaying it with good. I am showing mercy by cutting off this villainous trash’s karma now, so he won’t suffer in his next life.”

“How can you argue such sophistry, Young Hero-nim!”

“Sophistry? It’s ‘Skillful Means Paramita’. Didn’t they say there are all sorts of means to save sentient beings? Surely, you’re not questioning the words of the scripture now, are you?”

“No, if you interpret it that way…!”

The monk was dumbfounded.

But Cheongun’s mouth didn’t stop.

“In the Vimalakirti Sutra, Layman Vimalakirti said, ‘Affliction is Bodhi’, meaning affliction is enlightenment. So, wouldn’t the murderous intent I currently harbor also be a part of enlightenment?”

“Hah, that’s in a completely different context…”

“Don’t worry too much. ‘All compounded phenomena are like a dream, an illusion, a bubble, a shadow.’ Doesn’t the Diamond Sutra say that all forms in the world are illusory? Therefore, this villain’s life is illusory, and my killing him is also illusory, so in reality, nothing has happened.”

“…”

The monk’s face grew paler and paler.

It would have been better if he had drawn his sword and attacked him instead; having him stubbornly argue with scripture like this made his mind go blank.

Cheongun, on the other hand, was satisfied.

Seeing that the monk couldn’t properly refute his absurd nonsense, it seemed his learning was still lacking.

The night breeze was cool.

The moonlight of the late night quietly descended, painting the darkness.

Cheongun raised his head and looked at the sky.

Soon, he clasped his hands together in a Buddhist greeting.

“Namu Amida Buddha.”

“…”

****

When people are in extreme shock, they often freeze up.

The monk was no exception.

As a proud Shaolin martial artist, and like all Shaolin disciples, he had chosen to wander the world to spread the Buddha’s teachings, thus taking his first steps into the *jianghu*.

While walking along a mountain path with an eager heart, he had coincidentally detected the powerful manipulation of qi, and followed its traces to this very spot.

There, he found a boy.

He was a boy of exceptional appearance, and the aura he exuded was incredibly profound and pure.

He was clearly someone who had cultivated an internal qi art of the Daoist lineage.

Yet, his hands were stained with blood, and beside him lay a fallen person.

Thus, he had tried to stop it.

Even if the opponent was a villain, for such a young boy to accumulate so much karmic killing already, wasn’t it something that needed to be corrected by one who walked the path of the Dao?

But instead of gratitude, he only received insults.

Moreover, when Cheongun debated him using the words of the Buddha and quoting scriptures, he couldn’t properly refute him and was defeated!

If he retreated like this, it would be a disgrace to Shaolin!

He must redeem himself!

‘…He’s probably thinking something like that.’

Cheongun clicked his tongue in disapproval and continued walking.

There was nothing bad about it, except for some bald monk trailing behind him.

Cheongun suddenly turned his head.

“What’s your name?”

“Me, Junior Monk?”

Cheongun nodded.

“My name is Bang Jongdae, Junior Monk.”

The moment he heard that, Cheongun slapped his forehead!

It was a name he couldn’t possibly not know.

The Shaolin abbot… no, wasn’t he the personal disciple of the sect leader!

He was, in fact, the future of Shaolin.

‘I had no idea.’

He hadn’t even thought of it.

If asked how he could not know, despite playing for 20,000 hours, he had a lot to say.

Firstly, all Shaolin disciples wore identical kasaya robes and had their heads completely shaved, making it almost impossible to distinguish them by appearance.

If it were reality like now, he would somehow distinguish them, but through the digitally rendered graphics on a monitor, they all just looked much the same.

Cheongun widened his stride.

He moved quickly forward with large steps.

In response, the bald monk also inexplicably quickened his pace to match Cheongun’s.

Cheongun stopped abruptly.

“Why are you following me?”

“Namu Amida Buddha. Since Young Hero-nim has given me enlightenment, I wish to learn more.”

To summarize roughly:

He had been given enlightenment, and if he were to simply pass by it, it would go against Shaolin’s teachings, so he intended to follow him around and be extremely bothersome.

Still, if he only followed him around like this, he could be considered a gentleman.

This was because Shaolin monks had a habit of trying to ‘teach’ complete strangers, preaching the Buddha’s words and such during their period of wandering after leaving the temple.

Cheongun clicked his tongue.

Then he strode forward and said.

“Ah, how bothersome.”

“…”

“Why is this so unpleasant? It feels like someone keeps glaring at me, and the back of my neck is itching.”

“…”

“My body feels heavy, like a burden is stuck to my shoulder, my energy is completely drained, and cold sweat is dripping down as if I’m experiencing sleep paralysis.”

Bang Jongdae did not reply.

He merely shamelessly followed behind Cheongun.

Cheongun sighed and returned to Chengdu.

Since he felt empty after a considerably long trek through the mountains, he first looked for a restaurant.

Fulai Lou.

He had only passed by the vicinity, but the smell of garlic fried in oil and the savory aroma wafting from freshly steamed dumplings assailed his nostrils.

Cheongun pushed the door open without hesitation and entered.

Inside, it was bustling with customers.

Most seemed to be travelers who had stopped by to sate their hunger.

Cheongun took a seat.

Bang Jongdae looked around curiously, then carefully sat opposite him.

“Welcome. What can I get for you?”

A server had approached Cheongun before he knew it.

In the *jianghu*, monks were poor.

Why, in martial arts stories, isn’t it rare to see a wandering bald monk enjoying a lavish feast that fills a table at an inn?

It couldn’t be helped.

Monks at that time had rice, but no money.

Of course, monks residing in temples were better off, as donors would contribute money or goods, claiming to accumulate good deeds, but the story was different for monks like this one, who wandered the *jianghu* alone.

Monks referring to themselves as ‘poor monks’ was not an empty boast.

They were indeed poor and destitute, which was why they called themselves ‘poor monks’.

Gulp.

Bang Jongdae swallowed hard.

Cheongun was quick-witted.

That’s why he was certain, at a glance, that Bang Jongdae had gone without food for quite a while.

“Dongpo pork, soy-braised beef, xiao long bao, and also lamb soup and roast duck. One plate of each.”

“Yes, I’ll prepare them right away.”

The server quickly scurried back to the kitchen.

Cheongun swiftly turned his head.

Bang Jongdae looked almost dead.

“How many days have you been hungry?”

“…About five days.”

Wow, he’d gone hungry for a long time.

It was remarkable how he was still managing to stand.

“Let’s eat together. I ordered plenty.”

“…Um, Young Hero-nim. I cannot eat meat.”

He knew.

Their basic precept was non-killing.

How could they prefer meat?

Of course, Cheongun couldn’t understand.

To not know the greatness of meat-eating.

You mean it’s not food, but forbidden ribs?

“Please enjoy your meal!”

Before he knew it, the ordered dishes were completely laid out on the table.

The freshly roasted dishes gave off wisps of steam.

The greasy skin glistened with a rich sheen, and through the slightly charred, crispy surface, glimpses of the moist inner flesh could be seen.

And that savory juice pooled at the bottom of the plate!

Unable to resist, he brought his face closer, and a rich meaty aroma instantly enveloped him.

Cheongun tore off a piece of roast duck with his hand and took a bite.

The meat was so tender that when he gently poked it with his tongue, it simply yielded effortlessly.

It was meat of the utmost quality, so tender it practically melted the moment it entered his mouth.

With every chew, rich, melty fat filled his mouth, and the spicy seasoning coating the outside burst like fireworks on the tip of his tongue.

Gulp.

Bang Jongdae felt his patience reaching its limit.

“Aren’t you going to eat?”

“…”

Cheongun clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“Just eat. I told you, non-killing has no meaning.”

“…”

Bang Jongdae squeezed his eyes shut.

It was to block out his sight.

But as a side effect, his other senses became sharper.

The clattering of cutlery.

The smacking sounds that came with every bite of meat.

The rich meaty aroma brushing past his nose.

“…”

His mind reeled.

His mind went blank.

All sorts of worldly desires filled his mind.

Saliva pooled in his mouth, threatening to overflow.

Just then, Cheongun’s words passed by, like the words of the Buddha.

“Wine and meat pass through the intestines, but the Buddha remains in the heart [a saying meaning that worldly indulgences do not taint one’s spiritual core if their heart remains pure].”

“…”

“Wine and meat pass through the intestines, but the Buddha remains in the heart.”

“…”

At those words, Bang Jongdae opened his eyes.

Cheongun smiled benevolently, uncharacteristic of him.

It was as if a halo had appeared behind him.

As if understanding all his hardship, Cheongun slowly slid a plate towards him.

Bang Jongdae was choked with emotion.

After a long staring contest with the plate of food.

Finally.

“Gasp!”

He picked up a glossy, delicious-looking piece of Dongpo pork with his hand and put it in his mouth.

“…Ah.”

Trickle.

Hot tears streamed down.

Seeing that, Cheongun murmured with a wistful expression.

“…It was summer.”

“…”