Sichuan's Mad Dragon (Novel) - Chapter 92 - I Chose a Good Little Brother

Chapter 92 – I Chose a Good Little Brother

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Translated by Heavenly Cat

Read it only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net

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It took Heuk-wol over a full fortnight to return to Guizhou Province.

She had wasted time making contact with the chief of the river pirates near Chongqing.

Throwing around the Crimson Spider Sect’s name made using their manpower a simple matter.

She was able to entrust the task to a man said to be the foremost diver in all the upper Yangtze.

Afterward, she had the item Ok-wol threw into the river retrieved, sent it via Physician Seo-baek, and headed straight back.

Physician Seo-baek of the All-Living Clinic was renowned for being straight as bamboo. Someone of that caliber had to deliver it to establish credibility.

By now, the catastrophe would be unfolding at Emei Sect.

Her target was none other than Master Jeong-hwa.

‘If the sect leader is still the same as I remember… if she is still that iron-fisted legalist who knows neither compromise nor forgiveness…’

There was no way she would simply let it pass when she learned she had consumed such a thing.

One way or another, Emei Sect would suffer a severe blow.

That was precisely what she wanted.

Suddenly.

She worried about her master, Hye-jeong. Her affectionate, tearful master.

She remembered the days before she entered the sect, when she was a wandering orphan.

The “master” she had vaguely imagined in her head was a wizened sage with extensive worldly experience.

But the master she actually met was far younger than she had expected.

While her martial arts were excellent, she had many clumsy moments in daily life and made endless mistakes.

‘Master…’

Heuk-wol, who had been picturing her master in her mind, gently closed her eyes and slowly shook her head to dispel the thoughts.

She raised her head and surveyed her surroundings, which had transformed entirely into Guizhou’s distinctive landscape.

The weather had grown noticeably cooler, and the small boat she rode on was floating on the river beneath the moonlit night.

A waning moon had just begun its decline… Heuk-wol.

Guizhou was full of strange rocks and bizarre stones.

They jutted up wantonly, bent at odd angles, and were cracked or split into bizarre shapes.

These mysteriously shaped rocks formed towering peaks here and there, and sometimes clustered together to create scenic wonders.

Moreover, this place was a melting pot where not only Han Chinese but all manner of different bloodlines mixed.

There was a reason Guizhou had been the holy land of evil path sects since ancient times.

Those pushed out from the mainstream, those who felt more comfortable in the shadows than in the light… many such people lived in Guizhou.

Did the strange rocks bewitch people’s hearts, leading them to learn equally strange martial arts?

Or did strange people feel drawn to rocks that resembled themselves?

At some point, Heuk-wol had begun to feel peaceful whenever she gazed upon Guizhou’s landscape.

“I’m back.”

Heuk-wol murmured quietly.

“Is this where you live, Miss?”

Beside her, a child who suited Guizhou’s scenery as well as herself asked.

Mok Yeo-woon.

A child who had been broken and abused in the place he had believed to be his nest.

Here in the south of the Central Plains, this land full of strange people and strange rocks… the child would blend in without difficulty.

Heuk-wol gazed at the child with heavy eyes, not a trace of a smile on her face, and nodded.

“It’s your home now too. If you want it to be.”

Mok Yeo-woon looked up at the night sky and answered.

“I think I’ll be okay.”

The waning moon reflected in the child’s eyes, so that the hollowed part appeared to flip and become a waxing moon instead.

* * *

A wooden platform was built on the highest peak of Emei Mountain.

The timber-lattice platform was tall. The person laid upon it seemed as if they could drift up to heaven at any moment.

Ju-seong stood beside Physician Seo-baek, gazing blankly at the scene.

It was the cremation ceremony… the dabi… for Master Jeong-hwa, who had entered nirvana.

“The dharma body ascends!”

The coffin holding Master Jeong-hwa’s remains was passed from hand to hand, rising onto the platform.

The faces of the Emei disciples carrying the coffin were sorrowful.

Once the coffin was on the platform, Hye-jeong stepped forward holding a torch.

She had cried so much that all the blood vessels in her eyes had burst; no white was visible.

Her gaunt face looked as if it had aged ten years. Her freshly shaved head stood out starkly among the disciples.

Emei’s bhikkhunis were not required to shave their heads. She had done so voluntarily.

A broken cry burst from Hye-jeong’s lips.

“Buddha…! Dharma…! Sangha…!”

Her anguished voice rang throughout Golden Summit.

“Master Jeong-hwa! Fire enters now, so please flee!”

She was sending off the deceased’s soul, in case it still lingered around the body.

-Whoosh.

The fire blazed.

Ju-seong stared blankly at the flames as they consumed the woodpile and grew in size, then felt his head swim and closed his eyes.

His palms were slick with cold sweat.

These days, just seeing a large fire like that made his mind grow hazy and disrupted the Stillness-Bright Incantation.

He chanted the Stillness-Bright Incantation for at least half a double-hour before bed each night, yet this still happened.

‘I’ll need to find some way to address this.’

As Ju-seong closed his eyes and rubbed his brow, Physician Seo-baek quietly handed him a Heart-Calming Pill.

“Ah… Thank you, Senior Brother.”

“I’m sorry about before. I was stubborn.”

“No, you weren’t.”

After the short exchange, they observed silence. White smoke was rising high.

The bones were turned over with a long iron rod, and after a while as the body burned, the flames subsided and only thin white smoke rose.

Several bhikkhunis approached the platform holding jars.

Hye-jeong collected Master Jeong-hwa’s remains with long iron chopsticks, while another disciple of the Hye generation tapped the bones with a small hammer, breaking them down.

Ju-seong quietly asked Yang So-so, who stood beside him.

“What are they doing?”

“Looking for sariras.”

Yang So-so’s eyes were swollen red from crying. Even though she was an Emei disciple, she wouldn’t have had the chance to grow close to the sect leader.

Still, it seemed Master Jeong-hwa had accumulated virtue in her lifetime.

Amid the crumbled bone fragments, brilliantly gleaming tiny crystals were visible.

The disciples carefully gathered them, put them in a jar, and departed somewhere.

“Nine were produced. Is that a lot?”

Yang So-so quickly wiped her running nose on her sleeve, then dabbed at her tears as she answered.

“Nine grains… While it’s foolish to compare by the number of sariras, it’s a number difficult to approach without having accumulated considerable dharmic power.”

“So… if you accumulate a lot of this dharmic power, sariras are produced?”

When Ju-seong asked curiously, Yang So-so looked down and mumbled.

“Ah, I shouldn’t really be talking about this.”

“Just between us.”

“…Buddhist martial arts are mostly pure yang arts, right? And when cremation is performed, yang energy is added… The yang energy in the body and the yang energy of the flames create a synergistic effect, so the deceased’s energy and flesh melt and mix.”

Ju-seong was surprised by the more detailed and gruesome explanation than expected, and let out a quiet murmur.

“Mmm…”

“When the fire dies down, the melted flesh cools and solidifies firmly, and at that point the trapped yang energy crystallizes into a sarira.”

This woman must also be curious by nature and had researched through various texts.

Most monks probably didn’t understand the principle of sarira formation this well.

Ju-seong tilted his head, glanced down at his dantian, and whispered quietly.

“Wait, so if I were cremated, I’d produce sariras too? I’m not even a Buddhist… Wouldn’t that be awkward?”

“Young Hero, please be quiet.”

Yang So-so looked slightly uncomfortable.

In fact, Taoist sects that cultivated pure yang arts would also likely produce sariras if they were cremated instead of buried.

But if anyone overheard her saying such things, she’d be in trouble!

Not caring whether she worried or not, Ju-seong was already lost in his own thoughts.

‘The principle is similar to Samadhi Body Refinement.’

He thought that ultimately, that was the essence of Samadhi Body Refinement training. Melting and reconstituting the flesh with the flames of Samadhi.

‘Then theoretically, one could make the body as hard as those sariras… As long as you don’t die from melting.’

Ju-seong suddenly felt a new realization fly in like a bird, folding its wings on the windowsill of his mind and settling down.

‘I can advance one step further.’

Thanks to the Heavenly Bone Fruit Wine, he had rapidly overcome the obstacles in Samadhi Body Refinement.

Soon he had hit a wall and believed he had reached the final destination of Samadhi Body Refinement.

He had obtained a body durability incomparable to ordinary peak-level martial artists, after all.

But what Ju-seong envisioned didn’t end here.

This was a domain that even his master, the Divine Physician, hadn’t pioneered.

‘It’s not something I can start right away. It’s premature to get excited.’

Ju-seong surveyed Emei Sect, which was sunk in a somber mood.

Since the circumstances of her passing were inauspicious, only the heads of affiliated factions and disciples from Emei’s main mountain had gathered for the funeral.

Ju-seong himself wasn’t particularly shocked by Master Jeong-hwa’s death.

‘To some extent… it was a predictable conclusion. Heuk-wol… that woman planned everything meticulously.’

It was a decade-old grudge.

A bitter taste lingered in his mouth.

Master Jeong-hwa, the Blade of Extinguishing Evil, was gone.

Even the giant who had dwelt on the highest peak of the sacred mountain, looking down upon all of Sichuan, had been devoured by the karma of jianghu.

Had Heuk-wol planned all this anticipating that Master Jeong-hwa would take her own life?

‘If so, she is truly ruthless beyond measure. Though it’s not that I don’t understand.’

Afterward, Ju-seong remained at Emei until the funeral was concluded, then descended the mountain before Hye-jeong could be installed as the new sect leader.

It was uncomfortable for an outsider to stay any longer, and more importantly, given how deeply Seo-baek and Ju-seong were entangled in this whole affair, things were awkward with the Emei disciples.

“We are truly grateful. For everything. We will not forget the righteous spirit Young Hero showed, and your goodwill toward Emei Sect.”

Ju-seong quietly met eyes with Ok-wol, who was seeing him off, and opened his mouth.

Since Chongqing, he had grown much closer to Ok-wol; they had dropped uncomfortable formalities and now spoke casually to each other.

“Senior Ok-wol. But is there not something more important that you must never forget?”

“Ah…”

Ju-seong looked over the broad paddies and houses spread beneath Emei Mountain and spoke quietly.

“Don’t forget, Senior. They are our enemies. Once the situation stabilizes, please keep a close eye on the Ten Thousand Ears Gang.”

“Senior Hye-jeong will be seething as well, so don’t worry. We’ll also send letters to our neighbors in Shaanxi.”

The neighbors in Shaanxi would be the Mount Hua and Zhongnan Sects, fellow members of the Seven Sects.

If Mount Hua and Zhongnan drove out the Ten Thousand Ears Gang, naturally Wudang and Shaolin would follow suit.

The Seven Sects led the orthodox martial world; if they acted, the Three Great Families would have no choice but to follow.

In other words, the Ten Thousand Ears Gang’s influence north of the Yangtze would inevitably shrink dramatically.

Whatever their objectives, this move would significantly delay them.

‘How does that taste, you bastards?’

Ju-seong hung a strained smile at the corner of his mouth. His killing intent toward those dreadful demons bubbled quietly.

From Chengdu to Chongqing. From Chongqing back to Emei Mountain.

It had been a long journey. Ju-seong too had changed considerably.

‘I must become stronger.’

The enemies before him were not to be underestimated. The currents of jianghu were fiercer than he had imagined.

‘I need to gather the remaining ingredients as quickly as possible.’

Five poisons went into the Three Talents Five Elements Pill.

Two were already in Ju-seong’s dantian. The final and ultimate poison resided within Mo Wol-hyang’s body.

‘Two remain.’

He needed to find these as quickly as possible.

‘Of course, I can’t become strong by relying only on external artifacts.’

Ju-seong himself also needed to raise his own skill to the highest level. And the fastest way for a peak-level martial artist to elevate his skill was combat… more combat.

“Maybe I should head south of the Yangtze and challenge evil path guys to martial duels…”

Ju-seong muttered nonsense before sighing.

“If I did that, it wouldn’t be martial duels but just a string of street brawls.”

* * *

Ju-seong planned to stop by the All-Living Clinic to compound medication for Cheong-rang, then return to the Divine Physician.

The medicine to suppress Cheong-rang’s yang energy wasn’t something that could be made overnight.

He stayed at the All-Living Clinic, goofing off with the older sisters from the Blue Flower Acrobatic Troupe and teasing Dong-sam to kill time.

His determination to grow stronger hadn’t changed.

But if a person lived constantly like that, they’d eventually snap like a taut string… or so he reasoned.

He had put some medicinal ingredients on a very low flame, and was leaving the All-Living Clinic to buy some candy in the marketplace when he spotted some beggar.

“Whoa, for a second I thought it was Red Beggar.”

The reason for Ju-seong’s mistake was obvious.

“…This one learned Ten-Thousand-Li Roving Hound.”

Ten-Thousand-Li Roving Hound.

A qinggong technique like a house dog released from its leash, running on all fours with total abandon.

This one must have learned an inferior version, since he was running on two legs and was about three-tenths slower.

Qinggong was originally developed for chasing and being chased, so slight differences in speed created stark differences in class.

The beggar, employing what might be called Ten-Thousand-Li Roving Hound, stopped in front of the All-Living Clinic and stared straight at Ju-seong.

Judging by appearance, he was a young beggar who had just reached the age of learning.

Ju-seong unconsciously raised his fist as he would toward Red Beggar.

“What are you staring at? Think I’m handsome? Want me to make your face all colorful?”

At his outburst, the beggar nodded and held out something grimy.

“From your way of speaking, you must be Young Hero Ju-seong. This is a letter from our branch head… I mean, our Sect Leader.”

Ju-seong snickered at the young beggar’s words.

It seemed the rascal had succeeded in calling himself Sect leader of the Beggars’ Sect.

Did that mean he now had at least the Henan Province Beggars’ Sect under his feet?

“That guy is actually sending letters… Wait, wasn’t he illiterate?”

The young beggar nodded.

“He originally couldn’t read. But he’s learning these days.”

“Is that so? But why does the letter smell so bad?”

“It’s my smell.”

“Not exactly delightful.”

Ju-seong sighed and carefully unfolded the damp letter.

As he read down the letter, his eyes gleamed with interest.

“A Martial Arts Tournament? Hah, well now…”

He folded the letter back up and tucked it into his clothing as he said.

“I chose a good little brother.”