Chapter 7
Chapter 7
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 7
Chapter Title: Intent
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Wi Sowol nodded in place of an answer.
The afterglow of her enlightenment hadn't fully faded yet.
If she opened her mouth to speak, that hazy insight flickering like heat haze seemed ready to vanish like a mirage.
She had asked out of sheer surprise, but Seon Woo Hoon quickly noticed Wi Sowol's state.
He suppressed his own energy as much as possible and turned his back to her.
A silent pledge to stand guard.
Fortunately, Wi Sowol succeeded in tugging free the tendon string she had grasped from Don-o.
The scattered formulas cluttering her mind wove themselves together into one.
It was akin to stringing beads of varying sizes and shapes into a necklace.
The delicate process soon yielded a beautiful result.
Wi Sowol's steps now embodied the profound mysteries cradled within the heavens' constellations.
"Have you decided on a name?"
"Star Lodge Traces. That's what I've settled on."
The paths of all stars.
Or the righteous course of the constellations.
Alternatively, merits shining like the stars in the sky.
The name felt like Wi Sowol's own vow toward her new life.
"Star Lodge Traces. A name evoking the arts of Emptiness Profound. That formula earlier resembled Great Form Without Form."
Emptiness Profound encompassed both Buddhist and Daoist traditions.
Seon Woo Hoon had glimpsed their subtle truths in Wi Sowol's footwork.
Thus, he borrowed Laozi's words to dissect the formula—but his judgment missed by a hair's breadth.
As if settling the debt for borrowing the Crimson Dragon Sword, Wi Sowol flicked the sheathed blade from the ground and said,
"Present Yet Without Possession."
"Exactly. Even manifest before the eyes, it possesses nothing. Buddhist scriptures, that. I've heard it somewhere... the sutra's name..."
"Discourse on the Essential Meaning of the Nine Verses on the Holy Buddha Mother Prajnaparamita."
"......Yeah, that."
Honestly, he had no clue.
How does anyone memorize stuff like that? He's no monk.
"Anyway, quite the spectacle. But Star Lodge Traces feels too plain for the profundity it holds. Hmm... It embraces stars beyond the technique's grasp, wondrously, as if transforming into starlight—numinous, mystical, divine. Adding 'Divine' to make it Star Lodge Divine Traces would suit it better. What do you say?"
She wasn't one for ostentatious names, but that one seemed passable enough.
And if the namer was a peak expert renowned across the jianghu, it carried some weight.
"Very well."
"Excellent! It's like a child you birthed yourself. I merely added one character—how could this not forge a profound bond? Any thoughts of visiting my clan? Ah, no misunderstanding now. I have a wife."
Though she had passed away.
Still, with no plans to remarry, there was no need to elaborate.
"That inner energy. Extreme Pure Yin Qi. At first, I wondered if you hailed from the Ice Palace. But no. Witnessing your genius in devising martial arts, it's clear now. A unique constitution, isn't it? That's why you sought Ham-muk from me."
Wi Sowol gave a small nod, prompting Seon Woo Hoon to exclaim "As expected!" with heightened excitement as he pressed on.
"You might not know this, but my clan has one born with the Three Yin Absolute Meridians. She wields Pure Yin Qi with ease, so not a case of blocked meridians—but if you came to my clan, which has cured absolute meridians before, you could harness your constitution to its fullest. Martial arts? With your brilliance, you can craft your own."
Seeing Wi Sowol listening in silence, Seon Woo Hoon sensed she was nearly swayed and hammered in his final pitch.
"Ahem, and well... my nephew's quite the catch—handsome, supremely talented, arguably the world's finest..."
"That nephew."
Has she taken the bait?
It was the first time Wi Sowol had spoken since the persuasion began.
Yet her follow-up left even Seon Woo Hoon baffled.
"If you meet him, tell him not to die wandering in strange places."
Wi Sowol turned on her heel and began descending the peak.
Their positions had swapped from the fight's outset—was this premeditated?
"Huh? H-hey!"
With that, Wi Sowol had fulfilled every original goal.
Her steps down the mountain, business concluded, felt far lighter—even setting aside the principles of her newly devised Star Lodge Divine Traces.
Satisfaction tugged the corners of her usually dour mouth upward, ever so slightly, into the barest smile.
'Silenced him too. And created a divine movement art.'
Star Lodge Divine Traces emphasized footwork as a movement technique, leaving it somewhat wanting for fisticuffs—but she could always devise a separate striking art or refine it later.
'And that matter...'
The greatest gain, perhaps, lay in lightening some burden from her past life.
Of course, hardly resolved by a single phrase.
"You know my nephew? Come visit once, even just for fun?"
Wi Sowol's mouth corners plummeted.
'First things first, shake this one off.'
"Monk, are you awake?"
Having finally detached Seon Woo Hoon, Wi Sowol made her way to the main hall where the abbot resided.
The light seeping through the papered window betrayed Deung Hwa's wakefulness.
Deung Hwa set his book aside.
A touch early, perhaps—but he had foreseen the day Wi Sowol would seek him.
He rose and opened the door.
"You've come. Please, enter."
"I'll remain here."
I see.
Deung Hwa knew the girl harbored thoughts of departure.
The summer night was refreshingly cool, neither hot nor cold.
An ideal evening for discourse.
In the girl's unflinching gaze, Deung Hwa noted the red aura from that first day had dimmed ever so slightly.
Even absent martial cultivation, clairvoyance need not stem solely from such arts.
Deung Hwa perceived what others could not.
"You've undergone changes."
With those words, Deung Hwa recalled her arrival in beggar's rags.
He still remembered her very first question.
'Did Venerable Moggallana truly rescue his mother from hell?'
In her blazing red eyes, Deung Hwa beheld the karma of slaughter.
Yet fear found no purchase.
Compassion arose instead.
Thus, Deung Hwa replied.
'Indeed.'
The girl pressed further.
'How? By prostrating before the Buddha and making offerings?'
Deung Hwa refuted it.
'No. Venerable Moggallana saved Lady Qingti by amassing merits on her behalf and dedicating his own virtuous deeds. Even so, her evil karma proved too vast; plucked from Avici Hell, she still endured atonement in the Small Black Rock Hell, thereafter reborn as a dog, denied human form. Substituting one's merits for another's misdeeds is a task so arduous, so weighty.'
Then Deung Hwa inquired.
'Shall I prepare quarters?'
And so the girl remained at Zenith Temple.
'Had I realized her beauty, I might have accepted her as a lay attendant.'
As abbot overseeing the temple, Deung Hwa knew the whispers among the young novices and acolytes.
Oddly, none sought laicization—a daily reminder of the Dharma's impermanence.
"Today's words feel like our last."
Since beginning her stay at Zenith Temple,
Wi Sowol had sought Deung Hwa at the first stir of doubt, and he answered with utmost sincerity.
At times, he posed questions to her in turn.
The monk and the girl's exchanges had flowed onward.
Deung Hwa likened them to the queries between Shariputra and the Moonlight Maiden.
Yet lacking Shariputra's wisdom, he fell short for this girl who yearned to embody that maiden.
"Did you know?"
"Who can say."
"I see."
A dialogue straight from Zen exchanges between devotees—yet it quelled Wi Sowol's query.
She sought no lengthy justifications, merely his response.
Through it, she gleaned that Deung Hwa had long seen through her.
"I..."
Killed people.
From Wi Sowol's small lips flowed a tranquil recounting.
"No regrets over that."
Were she returned to that moment, Wi Sowol would act identically.
Seize the sword.
Hunt down those who slew her siblings and claim the fitting price of vengeance.
"Hmm."
Deung Hwa let out a low hum.
The subdued tale spilling from Wi Sowol ill suited a girl barely past ten.
The world grew ever harsher.
The age turned miserly.
Material plenty abounded, yet the mundane world steeped deeper in murk.
Even so, this era stood remote from true tumult.
Not yet a hellscape where a mere child of ten must slay far larger adults merely to live.
Then were these words childish posturing for attention? No.
Mad ravings from a fractured mind blurring dream and truth? No.
Deung Hwa discerned her words as unalloyed sincerity, devoid of deception.
His awakened insight merely beheld a fraction more than most.
No power to pierce hearts and sift truth like telepathy.
Yet years amassed and wisdom earned granted discernment of verity from falsehood.
No grounds for skepticism.
From the outset, Wi Sowol's declaration was pure confession of deeds committed—neither conjecture nor resolve.
Even granted reprise.
Wi Sowol gripped the sword anew.
Willfully set foot upon the blood-drenched path.
Such was her chosen way.
But.
"...You've felled too many. Sins piled deep. Merits are needed to offset them."
She knew it brazen.
Wrongs committed, now craving atonement or pardon—no such pleas desired.
Nor fitting, in her view.
Yet must not those sins be hers to bear?
Even should life end once more, facing judgment.
To declare: With this, free my mother.
I've humored your vile wager—release the rest.
For that end, merits Wi Sowol required.
Her inner anguish twisted her features subtly, unbeknownst to her.
Pity and pathos for a mother whose face eluded memory.
That earnest heart compelled Deung Hwa's reply.
"I know not what cause plunges you, so young, into karma's torment. Yet your upasika's suffering surely stems from fitting affinities. Though I address you as upasika, do you truly hold faith in the Dharma, yearning for precepts?"
"...No."
She rejected not the Buddha's doctrine.
Quite the contrary—Wi Sowol deemed it true.
Had she not learned from the entity dubbed Heaven that response could come through Buddha's teachings?
Purely in trust of those teachings, hers might eclipse even the abbot's.
Yet no designs to surrender her life to precepts.
"Then what of Daoist learning?"
Wi Sowol trusted Daoism as she did Buddhism.
She knew immortals real.
How spurn such doctrine?
But again, her small head shook.
"That as well."
"Then tread the mundane realm, discerning good from evil on your own. A grueling path. Good and evil evade easy lines, saha world's threads no stark black-white. What seems good may prove ill, ill turn beneficent."
Dharma and Daoism furnish standards for good and evil.
Life's compass, forged in stead.
Adherents take precepts, uphold them—that constitutes good.
Dao seekers master preset merits—that is good.
To forgo such guides, self as lodestar, invites boundless doubt ahead.
"Yet a path draws nearest truth."
Wi Sowol's eyes gleamed moon-bright.
For that answer, she had lingered here in pursuit of knowledge.
Long-awaited, it spilled from Deung Hwa's lips.
"Become a physician."