Fabre in Sacheon’s Tang Novel - Chapter 443

Chapter 443
After tending to my scalp, Jaheo and I made our way to the spot where the Dalai Lama had received me before.
We reached the entrance to find the Dalai Lama, Dorje, and what seemed like an endless number of monks, all with their hands pressed together.
“Heavenly Master! We have been anticipating your arrival!”
“We have been waiting!”
I couldn’t help but feel somewhat taken aback.
My plan had been to exchange a quick word with Dorje and the Dalai Lama before making my exit, but it was clear the entire leadership had turned out.
Every key figure Dorje had once identified as part of Podarlap Palace’s inner circle was present.
I paused, uncertain at the sight of the gathered assembly, but Dorje moved toward me and gently directed me forward, toward the Dalai Lama.
“Heavenly Master, right this way.”
“Alright… It’s just, there are so many people here.”
“Naturally, when the Heavenly Master requests an audience, all senior monks must attend.”
Why did everything have to feel so heavy with this many people involved?
All I came to do was say goodbye.
Not that I didn’t consider staying a little longer.
I did have some sense of duty—could I really just run off after receiving a spiritual beast?
I never asked to be made Heavenly Master, but since I’d been given the title, I thought I should at least keep up some goodwill.
Leaving right after securing the spirit creatures might seem a bit too transparent.
But I really couldn’t linger.
Every time Yeoncheon and Yeonji caught sight of the monks’ smooth, bare heads, they itched to cover them in toxic needles. And Hwa-eun had also been gently nudging me.
Earlier, as we walked toward the quarters, Hwa-eun had slipped her arm through mine, guiding me toward the back of our party. Smiling warmly, she sent a telepathic message:
[So-ryong, now that matters are settled here, all that remains is to go back to the Tang Clan, correct?
Now I—I belong to you completely, So-ryong… Hehe.]
She was saying we ought to return to Sichuan as soon as possible to complete the marriage paperwork.
She had been patient long enough.
I might have persuaded her to wait a few more days, but I didn’t have the heart to suggest it again.
Truth be told, since that incident which bound me to the Beast Heart Art, Hwa-eun’s fixation had only grown stronger. Over and over, she’d propose that we “finish things,” and I kept putting her off—citing spiritual beast hunts or a need to go back to the clan.
They say when Buddhists attain profound enlightenment, sarira form within their bodies. At this point, I was fairly certain Hwa-eun had a whole pouch of sarira inside her.
As for me? I didn’t mind the rest so much—but the wedding night was something I was genuinely eager for, so I too was keen to head back.
“Speeding,” she called it. Me? In my past life, I was the kind of driver who always kept a safe following distance. But this? The wedding night? I was absolutely looking forward to it.
‘Speed or no speed… Just this once, I’ll throw shame aside.’
Though I felt flustered under the gaze of the monks, my thoughts had already drifted to the wedding night. And in that moment—having resolved to cast aside my embarrassment—the Dalai Lama’s voice spoke up.
“Might you have an edict to impart?”
This wasn’t a casual question—he was asking whether I had orders to give.
Beneath the intent looks of the monks, I offered an apologetic smile and responded.
“Well, actually… I think it’s time I made my way back.”
At that, the eager expressions on the monks’ faces faded into clear disappointment.
It seemed they expected me, as Heavenly Master, to deliver some grand proclamation.
“Y-you’re departing?” Dorje asked, sounding truly startled.
I quickly shared the explanation I had ready.
“Yes. There’s a risk the Five Venoms Clan could unleash terrible bloodshed in the Central Plains by guiding the Blood Cult… I can’t afford to remain here doing nothing.”
I was framing it as a major undertaking for the good of the Central Plains.
To those in this world, the Central Plains were the heart of all civilization. To protect them was to protect the world itself.
As I’d arranged earlier with Ji-ryong, I stressed that point. But not wanting to be dishonest, I included my personal reasons as well.
‘My conscience was bothering me…’
“They’re now breeding locusts here in the Western Regions—that’s intelligence that must reach the Central Plains. Also, the spirit beasts I recently acquired don’t get along well with the monks of Podarlap Palace, so it’s not possible to leave them behind. And finally, though it’s a smaller matter… my wedding day is drawing near… Ahem.”
“Y-your wedding is soon!?” someone blurted out.
“Yes. That’s correct.”
Mention of a wedding made the monks glance at one another.
Was it really so unusual for a Heavenly Master to marry?
Maybe I should bring up the rumors that even that other one had three wives?
Just as I was weighing that, the Dalai Lama spoke gently.
“We understand your position. You are embarking on a critical mission for the world—we would not hinder you. However… might we ask a few small things of you?”
“A f-few things?”
I did feel a little guilty about leaving so soon, but what did he mean by “a few things”?
Shouldn’t Podarlap Palace be offering me favors, now that I’m the Heavenly Master?
That thought had just crossed my mind when the Dalai Lama smiled and said,
“It is nothing strenuous. We only wish to send wedding gifts and a delegation from Podarlap Palace to offer congratulations… and we hope you might visit us now and then, even if only briefly.”
“Ah.”
If that was all, why would I say no?
If my mind ever got too noisy—or if Hwa-eun and I had a disagreement—I could always treat it like a retreat and spend a few days here. Sounded like a good deal.
I agreed right away.
“Of course, I can do that. Actually, I should extend a formal invitation to all of you, shouldn’t I?”
“Thank you, Heavenly Master.”
As I answered happily, the monks’ expressions brightened again.
With the discussion going well, I decided it was time to present the gift I’d prepared.
I had meant to bring it up first, but the crowd had thrown me off.
“Well… I’m not certain how useful it will be, but… I’ve brought a modest offering.”
“An offering?”
“For us?”
“Yes.”
At the word “offering,” the monks looked at my empty hands, then tilted their heads in puzzlement.
I glanced toward Jaheo, and he stepped forward with a martial salute.
“Some here may recognize me. I am Jaheo, a monk from Songshan Shaolin.”
“Ah, yes, we know of you.”
The Dalai Lama nodded in acknowledgment.
Jaheo looked my way briefly, then began relaying what I’d asked him to share.
“I understand you are in search of sutras?”
“That is correct. Many were lost when we were driven from India, so we have been striving to recover them.”
“Yes. I believe our Shaolin Temple may offer some support.”
“Shaolin?”
The moment Jaheo mentioned help from Shaolin, the Dalai Lama turned to me.
He appeared to be waiting for me to elaborate.
I’d hoped Jaheo would take the lead, but it seemed these monks still held some reservations toward martial artists from the Central Plains.
“You see, while speaking with Monk Jaheo recently, I discovered that many Buddhist texts in the Central Plains are actually translations of original Sanskrit scriptures brought from India. So I inquired whether any temples in the Central Plains still hold those Sanskrit originals, and if we might arrange to copy or borrow them.”
“What!?”
The Dalai Lama looked utterly astonished.
It was true—historically, numerous sutras in the Central Plains were rendered from ancient Sanskrit works imported from India.
In fact, it’s a well-documented point—didn’t the monk Tripitaka from Journey to the West journey to India to obtain the scriptures?
It’s such common knowledge that it’s become part of classic tales.
So there was no need to venture into India, now under Muslim rule, to retrieve sacred texts.
As long as relations remained positive with Buddhists in the Central Plains, there was potential for sharing and collaboration.
“Is that truly possible? Would Shaolin agree to such a arrangement? And… forgive my doubt, but what is Monk Jaheo’s authority—can he truly speak for Shaolin?”
Dorje sounded skeptical.
What was Jaheo’s rank? Was he in a position to make such promises?
I had wondered the same, but Jaheo mentioned that the abbot of Shaolin had instructed him to provide any assistance that didn’t violate temple doctrine.
So I expected him to explain that… but his actual reply was completely unexpected.
“If Young Master So is regarded as Buddha, should we not naturally honor his request?”
“Ooooooh!”
“Indeed, it is so. Beneath the Heavenly Master, we all walk the same path toward awakening.”
“Yes. That is right.”
‘Hey, wait a minute—didn’t we just share a rather intimate moment earlier…?’
This Jaheo… I had just shared sacred nasal secretions with him, and now he was repaying me by elevating me to Buddha.
I really only intended to be the Heavenly Master here…
***

Though I had announced my departure, I couldn’t leave immediately. So I spent one final night at Podarlap Palace.
And now, on the path leading away from Podarlap.
As I set foot on the descending mountain trail, I noticed a dark, shifting mass below.
“What in the world is that?”
Something jet-black was gathered at the mountain’s base. I enhanced my vision with inner energy and saw clearly—it was a crowd. A massive assembly of people had come together.
Dorje, who stood beside me to wish me farewell, explained who they were.
“They have come to see you off, Heavenly Master, as you return to the Central Plains.”
Podarlap Palace and its surrounding settlements felt almost like a scene from a myth, a true spiritual capital. Here, faith seemed to influence every part of society, economy, and governance. And since I was leaving, it seemed every person in the region had turned out to bid me farewell.
As I went down the steps and stood before the crowd at the bottom, the people bowed their heads and pressed their palms together in respect.
“Heavenly Master, please come back to us someday!”
“Please return to us!”
Once they bowed, they began tossing flower petals made of red, yellow, and blue paper over us. Hwa-eun’s face lit up with pure delight.
[So-ryong, now I see why women dream of marrying a successful man.]
[Well… I’m not sure I’d call this “success” exactly…]
It was a title I’d received without effort, but I still felt my shoulders straighten a little with pride.
Leaving behind the monks and people of Podarlap Palace, who continued to shower us with petals, we started our return toward Mount Meili Snow.
We were heading back to where our boat was anchored.
A good deal of time passed as we journeyed from Podarlap Palace in the direction of Meili Snow Mountain.
Winter was approaching, but even in the heart of the cold season, temperatures in Sichuan stayed above freezing. The farther we went, the warmer it became, and the group’s mood and energy visibly lifted.
With the milder climate and rising spirits, everyone began talking more freely. Then, from nearby, Brother Gwiseong, who had been glancing over periodically, quietly asked Yeoncheon and Yeonji, our newest members:
“Elder Yeoncheon, if it’s not too much trouble… could you share with us something about Hwamu-jin?”
Hearing this, Yeoncheon turned her long, thoughtful gaze toward him.
[That is what interests you?]
“Yes. As a fellow practitioner of the Dao, I thought… there might be some wisdom to gain…”
Since Hwamu-jin was said to have achieved immortality, he was likely searching for some insight into martial enlightenment.
Yeoncheon responded without pause.
[Very well. It is no burden at all.]
“Oh! Thank you!”
The moment she agreed to speak about Hwamu-jin, everyone crowded around.
The children who had been walking near me were gently moved aside, and all the martial artists drew in close.
Bini, who had been scuttling along beside me, was nudged away and complained.
—Szzzzz. 『Hey! That’s my place next to Daddy!』
Normally, people would recoil at Bini’s piercing shriek, but this time, they simply apologized and held their ground.
“Sorry, Bini. This is a very important tale.”
“Yes, our apologies.”
And so began the story of a grandmaster who lived three centuries ago.
[Very well. What exactly do you wish to know?]
At Yeoncheon’s question, Brother Gwiseong was the first to reply.
“We heard Hwamu-jin attained immortality. Did you, by any chance, see his ascension?”
It was only natural—every martial artist dreamed of immortality, so this was the question they most wanted answered.
Yeoncheon nodded.
[Of course. My wife and I were with him until his final moment.]
“Ohhh! Then, as in the legends, did the gates of Heaven open, with immortals descending to welcome him?”
[Gates of Heaven?]
“Yes, that’s what the stories say.”
At his reply, the Five Dragon Fangs and everyone else nodded together.
That was how tales of ascension were always described.
But Yeoncheon, who had been there, answered with a hint of discomfort.
[It seems the ascension you speak of and the one I saw are… not the same.]
She said they felt different.
“Not the same?”
[Ascension… does it not simply mean death?]
“Eh? Death? Not rising to the heavens?”
[Yes. He passed away and was laid to rest in the hidden chamber he prepared.]
“Whaaaat?”
Everyone had believed Hwamu-jin became immortal, and now she claimed he died? They all looked at one another in stunned silence.
Then Hwa-eun asked,
“Then, Senior Yeoncheon… do you know where that secret chamber is?”
“…”
A short, tense silence fell as everyone waited, hardly breathing.
Then Yeoncheon answered.
[Of course. My wife and I are the ones who sealed the chamber where he was buried.]
The moment she said it, the calm atmosphere suddenly grew electric, as if ready to catch fire.
Every pair of eyes seemed to gleam with a fierce, eager light.
‘W-what on earth…?’
I felt like I was looking at a crowd of people who were exactly like me.