Holy Relic (4)
I was so dumbfounded by his words that I was speechless.
The Jisan monk's mother had died ten years ago, and her husband was perfectly fine?
I had no idea what that uncle's motives were in feeding the Jisan monk such lies, but something was clearly off.
I asked again.
"By any chance, does her brother not know she passed away?"
"Not know? He came to the funeral and took the condolence money."
"……."
"Anything else you want to ask?"
"Ah, no. That's all. Thank you."
I gave the villagers some reward money, and they left grinning from ear to ear, pockets full.
"From what I can tell, the Jisan monk doesn't know his mother has passed."
At my words, the Seo-u warrior's eyebrow twitched upward slightly.
"Honestly, isn't bringing up a dead person less effective than mentioning someone alive?"
"True enough."
"And her late husband's health has nothing to do with him anymore. So why worry about it?"
The Seo-u warrior replied.
"No reason for that, as you say, young master. Only one conclusion: that so-called uncle of the Jisan monk is a scumbag of the highest order."
I nodded in agreement with his assessment.
One question arose here.
Why didn't the Jisan monk know his mother had died?
Shaolin Temple wasn't that far away.
Before formally becoming a martial monk, maybe, but after? Trips to nearby villages shouldn't have been impossible.
I set that puzzle aside for later and headed back to Shaolin Temple first.
We arrived at Shaolin Temple just as dinnertime rolled around.
What to do about this…….
I pondered, but the conclusion was already clear.
The Jisan monk needed to know the truth. It would hurt, but he couldn't live in ignorance forever.
Otherwise, he'd keep getting manipulated by that uncle, and his future would be doomed.
A good man like the Jisan monk couldn't suffer because of that bastard's family!
There was a slim chance he'd snap in rage and break the precept against killing…….
But the depth of his cultivation, from what I'd seen, wasn't shallow.
He could control that anger just fine.
After dinner, I headed to the Sutra Pavilion.
I had to tell him the truth.
Better he learn before doing something foolish—far worse if he acted first and found out after.
"Amitabha. What brings you here, benefactor?"
As I approached the Sutra Pavilion, the Jisan monk greeted me with a half-bow.
I'd actually been here earlier……
I smiled and said to him,
"Being my first time at Shaolin Temple, curiosity got the better of me. I was strolling the grounds and ended up here."
"I see. Apologies, but outsiders aren't allowed beyond this point."
"Ah, my mistake."
"No harm done. You didn't know. That's why we're here, isn't it?"
What a good guy.
Just then, a drum echoed through the temple grounds.
Dong-dong-dong-dong!
With the sound came a group of monks approaching the Sutra Pavilion.
Shift change.
That's why I'd timed my visit. I watched the handover briefly, then approached him as he headed off.
"Off to dinner, I take it."
"Yes. Then rest after."
We exchanged light chatter until he seemed to recall something and asked,
"You seem familiar somehow. Have we met?"
He shook his head at my question.
"No, first time. I've never left Shaolin Temple."
"Is that so?"
His eyes looked sad as he spoke. Had that uncle used his mother as an excuse to keep him locked in here?
"My apologies. Your face just seemed so familiar……."
"No worries. It happens."
I scratched my cheek, then let out an ah!
"Now I remember where I've seen you."
"Pardon?"
"Not you, actually. A while back, in a nearby village, I saw someone who looked just like you—a monk."
I continued.
"A remarkably beautiful lady."
His eyes wavered at my words.
Yeah, he knew instinctively.
That it was his mother I meant.
"I-is that so."
"A Mrs. Hae from Daeri County. Third wife of Merchant Song, who was friends with her father."
"Is she…… living happily now?"
The Jisan monk's gaze trembled, his voice thick with emotion.
Yeah, after details like that, he had to know.
That's why I'd phrased it as "living happily"—someone unrelated wouldn't ask.
"Ah, well……."
I put on a regretful expression.
"She passed away ten years ago."
"What?"
"She had a son with her late husband, sent him to Shaolin Temple, then was forced into a remarriage she didn't want. Wasted away from it, they say."
"……."
"And get this—the brother shows up at the funeral and takes the condolence money."
I feigned outrage.
"He sold his sister as a concubine to a rich house, pocketed all that land money, living high on the hog—have some shame, man!"
"……."
"Ah, got carried away. Sorry."
"……No. It's fine."
The Jisan monk's face twisted in agony as he replied.
"Th-then……."
"Yes."
"Her husband now…… is he well?"
"Fit as a fiddle."
"……."
I called to him cautiously.
"Are you alright?"
"Ah, yes. Fine. Totally fine."
I pulled a handkerchief from my sleeve and offered it.
Sorry, but pain he had to face eventually.
And compared to the grief he'd have felt learning later, this was mild.
"You're crying."
"I've…… made a fool of myself."
"If you ever need help, come find me. And anger? It doesn't help with revenge."
I left those words and departed.
Best to give him space now.
Jisan's heart felt like it was being torn apart.
No—shredded to pieces.
His mother was gone.
All those nights he'd cried himself to sleep, missing her—she'd already left this world.
He didn't believe it at first.
But Mrs. Hae of Daeri, third wife, son to Shaolin—how many cases like that?
Now he faced the truth.
He recalled his uncle's appearance when visiting.
Ragged clothes, begging for help.
So he'd scrimped and sent monthly stipends.
But living lavishly!
Once suspicious, oddities surfaced.
Same clothes every visit.
No patches, barely faded.
Years in one outfit? Even cherished, it'd fade and tear.
And those hands—soft, pale—unlike his rags.
Hands tell a life: easy, laborer, martial artist.
Rags meant calluses—yet smooth.
Then it clicked for Jisan.
His uncle had been deceiving him all along.
Jisan wasn't stupid, nor a pushover.
Too naive, he wouldn't survive competition to become a martial monk amid hordes of disciples.
Success at his age meant sharp wits.
Just one weakness: his mother.
But today, even that was gone. She was dead—no longer a lever.
Still, tonight he wanted to cry.
These tears mourned her.
After long grieving, he wiped his eyes with the handkerchief.
Gazing at it, he thought of Eun Seo-ho.
Approached out of nowhere, asked if they'd met, smoothly led to mother.
Purpose: deliver the news.
He recalled Eun Seo-ho's words with the handkerchief.
Anger useless for revenge. Need help? Seek me.
Now, he burned with rage.
Uncle started this tragedy—now ordering the unthinkable.
Not to rage would be weirder.
But he guessed Eun Seo-ho's intent.
Don't be swayed into folly.
So…… he already knows everything? Even what I planned?
A chill ran down his spine.
Must see him now.
Bedtime had come.
But I wasn't sleeping—reading in my quarters.
As expected, the Jisan monk would come late.
"Young master, a guest."
I nodded at Palgap's words. Right on cue.
"Let him in."
"Yes, sir."
The door opened, and in came the Jisan monk from earlier.
Eyes puffy—he'd cried plenty.
Sigh…… Pity stirred.
"Sit."
He sat where I gestured, head bowed.
"First, my thanks. Now I know about Mother."
"So the lady I mentioned earlier was your mother."
"You knew and played it cool."
As expected…….
I bowed slightly in apology.
"Forgive me."
"No need. Grateful to pray for her rebirth in paradise now."
So polite, I felt embarrassed.
"Why show me such kindness?"
"You may not believe it, but I dreamed of Grandmaster Hyeokgon Seongseung."
"Pardon?"
"He looked at you with such pity. Made me investigate—uncovered your story."
"……."
"Why never check on your mother?"
He answered calmly.
"Uncle said if I left Shaolin, it'd hurt her."
"I see."
Damn, makes me want to curse.
"Hated the thought of causing her pain."
Exploiting filial piety!
Villain among villains.
"You said seek help if needed—so here I am."
"Speak."
"Truth is, my uncle ordered something outrageous."
He recounted calmly what happened.
"Steal the elixir from Grandmaster Hyeokgon Seongseung's holy relic. Burn it—no one would know."
Calm voice, but heart surely not.
Suppressing fury with all his might.
"Feel free to get angry."
"Pardon?"
I repeated.
"You've suffered unjustly—anger's natural."
"But earlier, you said anger doesn't aid revenge……."
"Right. It doesn't. But that doesn't mean suppress it. Human emotions are natural, no?"
I continued.
"Just don't let it ruin things."
"Ah……."
"Your late mother surely watched you grow so fine. She'd be proud."
"She would, yes?"
"Yes. So don't dirty your hands for revenge—leave it to heaven. Break precepts with blood on them? How she'd grieve."
For a martial monk, killing rarely breaks precepts unless personal.
"But this pain…… how to bear it?"
"I'll help."
"You?"
"Truth is, I'm serious about guarding Grandmaster Hyeokgon Seongseung's holy relic."
"But no need to go so far for me."
"Think your mother sent me for your future."
"……."
"Else, why am I here? Heaven answered her prayers."
I pressed on.
"So, how about a month in the Repentance Cave?"
"Repentance Cave?"
He pondered, then nodded.
"Good. I'll meditate, pray for her paradise."
Expect wonders.
In a month, everything will be neatly resolved.