Rebirth of the Third Young Master
“Hooo…….”
In the pitch-black cavern, a man with a closely shaven head — Hye Gwang — exhaled a breath of gold.
Not much longer now.
Nirvana.
For any monk who had entered the Buddha’s path, it was the realm they all aspired to, and for him it was the summit that lay one step away.
He had wrestled with countless afflictions and countless lines of thought over the years, but in the end he had broken free.
At last, after endless trial and error, he had realized it.
He had been bound by useless ceremony and empty frills, and in doing so had let the truly important things slip through his fingers.
Only after he cast those notions away and forged his own Buddhist path had he found it.
The truth.
Wuuung!
A golden auspicious light filled the cavern walls. The exhilaration surging through his entire body seemed to announce that nirvana was near.
“Heh, there you go.”
Suddenly, the voices of his fellow disciples brushed through his mind.
- We heard you were going to enter wall-facing meditation. Is that true? It’s a pious thought, but... why not show the disciples the forms of the Seventy-Two Supreme Arts one more time instead? ...What do you mean, why do we keep asking when we don’t even understand them? You little brat!
- Then how about taking up a martial duel trip? I hear the Mount Wudang people have been so fierce lately they’re practically piercing the sky. If you visited them to learn, surely that would be better than wall-facing practice... No, not those bald frauds, the Daoists, the Daoists! Why are you cursing at us like that, honestly?
- Puhahaha! Breaking afflictions through wall-facing meditation? At least wipe off the smell of liquor before you say something even a hair’s breadth convincing. You just want to go in and come out having stuffed yourself with meat until you can’t move... Ah, of course not. You’re the one called the Divine Fist — how could you? Please, do move your foot.
- Amitabha, if the common people could just understand what kind of man the Divine Fist is, our own afflictions would lessen. Eh? Why say that? ...You really don’t know? Of course, it would be something like “the one who represents Shaolin”... Your hand! Why are you raising your hand...!
Every last one of them was a memory from the days when their cultivation had been shallow.
Hm, hm. Idiots.
Even though he had entered the path late — after his temperament had already been shaped in the mortal world — he had still been called the World’s Greatest Fist, and by the time he reached middle age, the Divine Fist.
Would such a man ever be deceived once his resolve was set?
More than that, the creed he held in his heart was Kill the Buddha, kill the Ancestor.
It was a Buddhist teaching: if you met the Buddha, kill the Buddha; if you met the master, kill the master.
At first glance it sounded blasphemous, but its true meaning was simple — if you wished to attain genuine enlightenment, then whatever obstructed you must be cut down without hesitation.
Well said.
Having slain every notion that bound him, and thereby upheld his own Buddhist path, he finally understood.
Today, at last, he was on the verge of stepping into nirvana.
And yet... why was the auspicious energy bursting from his body now something like immortal qi, even though he wasn’t a bald monk, no, a Daoist, and wasn’t supposed to ascend to immortality?
Mm, so that’s how it is.
A satisfied smile spread naturally across his face.
All rivers return to the source.
It was said that not only all streams, but all currents, ultimately became one in the sea.
He had assumed martial arts would be no exception, but perhaps Buddhism and Daoism, when carried to the extreme, also converged into the same current?
At that chain of realizations, a laugh escaped him.
Amitabha.
He gathered his wandering thoughts and steadied his mind.
Kwa-gwa-gwa-gwang!
Then the internal energy that had been building in his dantian burst forth like a flood, racing powerfully through the channels and meridians that ran across his body.
The vast force stirred the lower dantian, circulated several times along his spine, and then surged upward without restraint, lingering at the Baihui acupoint at the crown of his head.
Kuuung!
As though lightning had struck, it pierced straight through his dantian, and an even fiercer current filled his body from head to toe.
So this was it.
The instant he opened his eyes, filled with a sense of liberation in the blink of an eye—
Blaaaze!
Golden radiance burst across the cavern before slowly fading away.
In the dimming haze of consciousness, one long-buried memory surfaced.
Hye Gong, the pillar of the martial world and the abbot of a thousand-year-old Shaolin.
A venerable monk who stood at the forefront of the jianghu, weathering every storm and leading the world through it all.
To Hye Gwang, he had been both a master who taught him countless things and a senior brother who served as a steady pillar of support.
- Abbot, how can you doubt my faith in the Buddha?
From the monk revered by all under heaven came a thunderous rebuke.
- Who said I was doubting you? Even a monk who entered the path late must not neglect the Buddha’s teachings. Is keeping the precepts really so hard for you to understand?!
- Why must you always speak in such antiquated terms... Don’t you understand that that sort of narrow-minded thinking drives a wedge between the common people and us?
- ......
- However different the road may be, the path I walk is also the Buddhist path. And you still don’t know that I strike first before the common folk commit their sins... how on earth did you ever climb to that position?
- Wha, what? You demon-spawned little brat...!
- Just watch how many beings my Buddhist path guides!
The abbot’s face as he looked at him came back to mind.
The expression of “what the hell is wrong with this bastard.”
Even while looking at him like he was hopeless, there had been affection hidden in that gaze.
...Abbot.
Even if I reach it before you do, please don’t take offense.
You know better than anyone that my martial talent is enough to shake the whole world....
If you just keep practicing for another five years.
No, fifteen years, then surely....
...Though maybe even that wouldn’t be enough.
And with that, the thread of consciousness, so thinly stretched, snapped.
* * *
Suddenly, he felt something brush against his arm.
It was damp and cold, somehow sticky with a faint, unpleasant chill....
Was nirvana supposed to be wet?
He had expected a state of deep stillness and gentle peace, but perhaps that too had been a prejudice.
Amitabha.
At the moment he was naturally trying to shed his narrow-mindedness as if it were no more than breathing—
Swish.
He opened his eyes abruptly at the weird sensation that touched him again.
And then a bright light crashed into him, blinding him.
...W-what is this?
Had his spirit not left his body?
Half-dazed as though trapped in a dream, the hazy shape of a person slowly sharpened before him.
A frail-looking woman with deep brown eyes and neatly braided hair.
Obviously, not a face one would see in a temple.
What was even more absurd was that this woman was wiping his arm with a cloth.
“W-who are you, miss?!”
The woman’s eyes went wide.
“Young master?!”
He replied in a flustered voice.
“Huh? Y-young master...? Even with deep cultivation, that’s a little much to compare me to the sages of old...”
No, why did my voice sound like this?
It was raspy and cracked, like the voice of a sick man.
The woman’s expression brightened all at once, and then she blurted something incomprehensible.
“You’re awake at last! Thank goodness.”
What on earth was she talking about? The young woman seemed so deeply troubled she’d started spouting nonsense.
Then again, why is it so cold...?
In that instant, his mind snapped to attention as if struck by lightning.
Cold?!
Ever since he had mastered profound internal power, he had not felt cold even once.
Leaving his confusion aside, he looked down at his strangely hollow, chilled body.
W-what is this now?!
When he lowered his head, his magnificent muscles were nowhere to be seen, and only a shriveled, emaciated body met his gaze.
My muscles....
Despair crashed over him. Where had the marks of his ascetic training gone — the body that had carried boulders the size of houses up and down Mount Song?
And what was this skeletal frame?
Not only that, but the calluses on his palms and the small scars had vanished without a trace.
He clenched and unclenched his fist, then realized the clothes he was wearing were unfamiliar too.
Black sleeves embroidered with elegant patterns, cut in a generous, refined style, and a belt tied at the waist — it was the kind of clothing only noble sons would wear....
Swish.
As he looked around in confusion, something blocked his vision.
...!!
Even setting everything else aside, this one thing alone was....
An impossibility had occurred.
T-this is definitely....
His eyes filled with horror.
He reached up with a trembling hand and felt it. It was certain.
M-my hair?!
He had vaguely thought about growing it out before....
But wasn’t this a bit too sudden?
...A demon must have latched onto me.
He had thought he had severed all afflictions and attained liberation, but clearly that wasn’t the case.
Still, he maintained a solemn expression and stroked the long hair.
Could something like this really happen?
Had he fallen prey to some sorcery without even realizing it?
The woman’s face slowly stiffened.
“Y-young master, are you all right? Why are you touching your hair like that... Ah! This isn’t the time for this. I’ll call a physician at once.”
She dashed toward the door, then turned back and shouted,
“I’ll be right back, so don’t overexert yourself and lie still for a moment!”
“Huh?”
He was beyond bewildered.
Who on earth was that woman? And why was his body like this?
His gaze followed her retreating figure, then shifted to the strange room around him.
Even to someone like him, who knew nothing about furniture, there were clearly expensive pieces scattered all around.
He kept turning his head, taking in the interior, until his eyes fell on a bronze mirror set beside the bed.
...!!
The face reflected in the mirror was nothing like the one he remembered.
Dark brows beneath eyes like deep lakes, a sharp bridge of the nose, a graceful jawline, and skin so clear and translucent it seemed almost see-through.
Good heavens. So there really was such a handsome man in this world.
Even to him, a man who had entered the Buddha’s path, it was a face that inspired awe.
His gaze lingered on the lips, then slowly moved upward.
Cautiously.
As if worrying it might disappear.
T-there is!
He hadn’t been mistaken.
There, gleaming like polished jade, was a cascade of black hair.
Was this what it felt like?
He bent the strands as far as he could, then pulled at them.
The springy resistance of the hair at his fingertips and the faint pain when his scalp was tugged felt unfamiliar, yet strangely welcome.
Then, all at once, his mind cooled.
“Hoo....”
Only now did he begin to understand what had happened.
...Have I been reborn?
He wasn’t even sure whether this could properly be called rebirth, but no other word came to mind.
So I really did fail to reach nirvana.
At least the good news was that he had been reborn as a human and not as a beast of burden.
Still, I entered the Buddha’s path and accumulated merit diligently. It wouldn’t make sense for me to come back as livestock.
He shook his head and looked around.
Rebirth or not, where in the world was this place?
Judging from the room’s decoration and the clothes he wore, it was clearly the house of some wealthy family....
Thud-thud-thud!
He heard a commotion outside.
“Come in quickly! Hurry! I told you, the young master is awake!”
The woman who had gone to fetch a physician returned almost immediately, bringing a man with her.
The physician bent at the waist and shouted,
And then, as if struck by lightning, his mind went blank.
“May the Heavenly Demon descend again, and may all demons bow in reverence! I greet the Third Young Master of the Divine Cult!”
“...What?!”
At the blasphemous words he could barely process, his whole body started trembling as though seized by convulsions.
“W-what did you just say?”
“Hah. My apologies, Young Master. I hurried over without fully observing proper courtesy....”
“What the hell are you talking about!”
The man flinched and shouted again.
“May the Divine Cult be undefeated! May light fill the world! I greet Cheon Sohyeon, the Third Young Master of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult!”
Cold sweat poured down his spine.
It had been a complete misunderstanding.
It wasn’t a demon that had latched onto him....
Damn it, what the hell is this?
He had become the demon himself.