Little Immortal
The monk appeared to be not yet thirty, but the Daedong Sect disciples who saw him let out gasps of admiration.
“Ah! You've finally come!”
“A divine monk from Shaolin has arrived!”
The monk politely cupped his hands in a half-palm salute and spoke.
Unlike his earlier majestic lion's roar, his voice was soft and subdued.
Amitabha. “A divine monk? I am Gong-u. My apologies for being late.”
The Daedong disciples' eyes widened upon hearing the monk's Buddhist name.
“……G-Gong-u?”
“……The High Dragon, one of the Nine Dragons and Eight Phoenixes who vied for the top spot!”
After a moment of silence, the crowd erupted in cheers.
“We had no idea who might come, but it's the High Dragon himself!”
“Shaolin remembers its roots! What an honor!”
The founding master of Daedong Sect, a native of Datong County, had been a lay disciple of Shaolin.
Deeply devout, he established the sect and protected pilgrims visiting the Yungang Grottoes.
It was to fend off the unorthodox factions that often wreaked havoc at famous sacred sites.
Fortunately, his martial prowess was no small matter, allowing him to gather many disciples.
Those disciples, too, were deeply faithful, carrying on the lineage over the years to safeguard Datong County and the Yungang Grottoes.
But trouble arose when the Blood Soul Gang, driven out from southern regions by emerging powers, infiltrated this area.
They sought to push out Daedong Sect and swallow up Datong County.
Realizing they were outmatched, Daedong Sect sought aid from Xiantong Temple on Mount Wutai, with which they had ties.
Though Xiantong Temple was not a martial sect, it had escort warriors, so they hoped to borrow their strength.
The response they received set Daedong Sect abuzz.
Shaolin monks were en route to Xiantong Temple, and upon their arrival, they could plead earnestly!
Daedong Sect's roots lay in Shaolin's lay disciples.
Naturally, they couldn't help but hold high hopes—mingled with fear of rejection.
'To think they'd actually come!'
'And it's Gong-u, the High Dragon whose fame spans the Central Plains!'
Unlike the ecstatic Daedong disciples, Baek Seung-mu and Jao wore calm expressions.
It was only natural; the Paeng family they had recently left housed not only the current Nine Dragons and Eight Phoenixes but even veterans from the previous generation.
Having dined with the Crown Prince no less, they had no reason to be awed by the title of High Dragon.
Sensing their reaction, Gong-u felt a twinge of curiosity.
'These are unusual patrons.'
It didn't bother him.
Fame was an empty, fleeting thing.
More importantly, he subtly chided Baek Seung-mu and Jao.
Amitabha. “Patrons, your hands were far too heavy.”
“……?”
Amitabha. “With such skill, you could have resolved matters more gently.”
Baek Seung-mu and Jao blinked in confusion, pointing at themselves.
“Are you talking to me?”
“To me?”
Gong-u replied with another half-palm salute.
Absurdity flashed in Baek Seung-mu and Jao's eyes.
'Too heavy-handed?'
'Us?'
With only minor cuts and a few broken bones here and there—what was he on about!
Baek Seung-mu protested.
“Too heavy? I held back plenty.”
“There's still too much blood spilled for that.”
Jao countered as well.
“Not a drop of blood from those I felled.”
“But their joints are shattered.”
As Baek Seung-mu opened his mouth to retort again, a forgotten realization hit him.
'No way. 'Those near ink turn black,' they say……'
Living with Jeong Gwang had normalized this level of violence!
Of course, Jao—who had been even lighter-handed before following Jeong Gwang—felt only indignation, no epiphany.
He demanded boldly, chest puffed out.
“I used light hands for the sake of this righteous Daedong Sect and its innocent pilgrims. If that's wrong, I'll apologize.”
Gong-u replied in his usual serene tone.
Amitabha. “That's precisely the problem—you didn't use light hands.”
“I did! Why keep insisting otherwise!”
Amitabha. “Your hands were undoubtedly heavy.”
Unable to bear it, Jao snapped in anger.
“Then what counts as light? Let's see it!”
Amitabha. “It's simple enough.”
Gong-u's figure vanished.
He reappeared before the remaining Blood Soul Gang thugs, striking their acupoints with lightning-fast fingers.
Their pressure points sealed, the thugs froze in place.
Amitabha. “Like this.”
“…….”
Jao was speechless.
It was genuinely light—no blood, no real harm.
Unimaginable for someone from Sima Lian.
Meanwhile, Jeong Gwang, watching from afar, clicked his tongue inwardly.
He was exasperated by the unimaginable method.
'Tsk tsk. Why bother? A good thrashing at least feels satisfying.'
Jeong Gwang had seen Shaolin monks before.
Several times at the Murim Alliance.
They always maintained a detached, aloof air—as if present yet absent.
In short, they never showed off.
His master Heo Cheong had said it was to uphold a monk's duty…….
Even that made no sense to him.
'Then stay holed up in the mountains—why come down?'
If you're in the secular world, act accordingly.
Unlike Shaolin, Jeong Gwang was confident in that regard.
Which meant indulging in meat and wine all the more.
'Decent talent, but so rigid and stuffy.'
By his aura, Gong-u boasted the highest martial skill among the Nine Dragons and Eight Phoenixes he'd met.
But so what?
Endlessly nitpicking about “heavy hands” without any intent to fight properly.
'Anyway, it's wrapped up. Time to go.'
Standing at the rear of the pilgrims, Jeong Gwang excused himself to the man ahead.
Amitabha. “Excuse me, make way.”
“Ah, of course…… Eek!”
The man, stepping aside absentmindedly, cried out in shock upon seeing Jeong Gwang.
“……An immortal?”
The man's mutter drew all eyes.
An immortal at a Buddhist holy site?
But then.
“Gasp!”
“Heavens!”
Elegant cloud patterns embroidered in golden thread, robes of snow-white silk gleaming softly.
A resplendent golden sword etched with intricate clouds.
And a face so impossibly handsome it made everything else pale in comparison!
There's a saying that clothes make the man.
But something transcended that by leaps and bounds…….
The face was divine!
A perfect face could elevate one to godhood!
Folk from Shanxi Province, unversed in murim, had never heard of the Jade Dragon epithet.
To them, Jeong Gwang was simply an immortal!
“I-It’s real!”
“An immortal! The Little Immortal!”
The pilgrims gathered here shared one trait: most were advanced in years.
Young couples at sacred sites? Outsiders might wonder, but circumstances explained it.
The Yungang Grottoes were famed for cliff-carved Buddha statues and over ten thousand caves.
Temples inspire reverence by nature—imagine the awe before such grandeur.
Yes.
Even hot-blooded men become like Buddhas.
Women too.
Lovers returning together remain steeped in piety, making no advances.
No man brings his beloved, then.
For various reasons, pilgrims here were older.
Naturally, many had ailments and clung fiercely to life.
As Jeong Gwang had lectured Baek Seung-mu recently, most sought blessings from Buddha or Tao alike, no discrimination.
“Aigoo! Little Immortal! Please bestow a blessing upon me!”
“My home's fortunes are poor—misfortunes never end! Could you perform even a brief rite?”
In this Buddhist holy land, Taoist popularity exploded.
Accustomed to such, Jeong Gwang responded calmly.
Not without regret—'Should've just flown over with a divine technique.' But what was done was done.
He had to do it properly.
As his grand-master Un Hu had urged.
'Anything else is fine. But never refuse the pleas of struggling commoners. You are a Taoist, after all.'
Not about taking money or playing hero.
Just don't ignore their heartfelt wishes for blessings.
'This is nothing.'
Compared to slogging through Taoist scriptures, it was easy.
'Let's wrap it up quick.'
Jeong Gwang clasped his hands and called out.
Amitabha! “Form a line!”
No full rites possible under the circumstances.
Quick blessings followed.
His earnest, courteous demeanor delighted the pilgrims.
Even the odd ones.
“Pardon? Talismans? We don't deal in those here.”
“No sorcery. If I could, I wouldn't be here.”
“Show my future? Can't do long-term.”
Some wept in emotion, others laughed in amusement.
A warm atmosphere spread.
Those blessed offered keepsakes.
Donations for Lingyan Temple and Yungang Grottoes: corn, flour, fruits, even a trussed chicken flapping its wings.
Everything imaginable…….
Jeong Gwang refused all.
“Taoists descending to the secular world for blessings or rites never accept payment. Your hearts are enough.”
“Please take it, Little Immortal. It's all we have—refusing makes us feel worse.”
“Hmm. Truth be told, I'm quite wealthy, so I don't need it. Too heavy anyway. Take it home and enjoy.”
The people misunderstood—positively, thanks to his looks.
'Considering our plight, he says that!'
'Easing our minds with gentle humor!'
Of course, Jao saying the same would've earned “shameless fraud Taoist” jeers.
“As expected of the Little Immortal! True to your divine form!”
An elder's praise drew a headshake from Jeong Gwang.
“Don't
