Dropped into Murim with an Instant-Kill Skill - Chapter 167

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

Chapter 167: If I Hear the Dao in the Morning, I Can Die by Evening (7)

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Yeon Sowol looked back at Wudang’s Sect Leader.

Judging by his manner and speech, he seemed older than the elders around him. Yet his hair was black and his complexion ruddy, making him look younger instead.

But something else truly drew the eye.

‘...I can’t feel any presence from him.’

By now, Yeon Sowol had considerable confidence in his qi sense.

That was not arrogance. It was an accurate assessment of reality.

Yet even his qi sense detected absolutely nothing.

Before him, Hwagokja, the Sect Leader, looked like an ordinary man in his forties or fifties with no internal energy at all.

But that could not be true.

‘Is he beyond even my qi sense and discernment?’

The thought sent a chill down his spine.

‘Come to think of it, this happened once before.’

The three old men he had met by the Jipseong River.

That day when he drank the liquor they gave him, and one night felt like an entire lifetime.

The old beggar and the old Daoist had been like this.

They had surely been unimaginably distant masters, yet he had sensed no presence from them. They had only looked ordinary.

‘He even has a similar air to that old Daoist.’

Yeon Sowol studied Hwagokja before lowering his gaze slightly.

Now he understood.

‘He must be a transcendent peak-realm master. They said that among Daoists and Buddhists, reaching the transcendent peak realm makes one seem ordinary instead.’

He understood it in his head, but his heart remained confused.

How?

The stronger someone became, the more ordinary they looked.

How was that possible?

And more importantly,

‘Transcendent peak realm...’

Was that even a phrase that made sense?

Peak meant the summit.

Transcendent peak meant surpassing even that peak. But was that possible?

‘Wouldn’t that mean the earlier stage was never truly the peak?’

Logically, that was right.

If something higher existed above the peak, then what came before had never been the peak in the first place.

Then what exactly did transcendent peak mean?

‘Maybe martial artists are all idiots and braggarts...’

Perhaps they had simply kept escalating things, first inventing the peak realm, then the transcendent peak realm, taking it further and further.

‘It’s possible. But...’

It was a very reasonable perspective, but what Yeon Sowol felt now was different.

Something Yi Yubaek had once said.

- How arduous it is to seek transcendence while wearing a human body.

Perhaps the transcendent peak realm was a realm that had touched transcendence.

The realm reached at last by a martial artist who sought transcendence.

The peak realm was the highest place a human could climb.

The transcendent peak realm was something beyond humanity.

When he considered that the ordinary-looking Daoist before him might be such a being, his spine prickled.

And that person had said,

‘That I have already attained Clear Heart?’

If a transcendent peak-realm master said so, then it must be true.

Yeon Sowol quietly examined himself.

Was there anything he had achieved that could be related to Clear Heart?

Then, like something heard in a dream, a voice brushed past his ear.

- At last, your heart has become utmost.

Yi Yubaek’s voice.

He still did not know whether he had truly heard those words or heard them in a dream, but for some reason, the voice remained in his memory.

The first thing he had learned from Yi Yubaek.

That tiresome utmost heart.

‘Could that be Clear Heart?’

Nothing else came to mind.

But...

‘...I don’t think so.’

Clear Heart meant a clear mind.

But the utmost heart he had learned from Yi Yubaek...

‘Wasn’t it more of a mad heart than a clear one?’

It was the mind that abandoned everything, even itself, then pursued its goal half-crazed. At that time, even if he had died, he would have felt neither fear nor regret.

In the end, Yeon Sowol cautiously asked,

“Forgive my ignorance, but I still do not know what Clear Heart is. I have vaguely seen and heard things since coming here, but I do not know whether I possess such a thing.”

Yeon Sowol spoke as respectfully as possible.

Hwagokja smiled.

“Come with me. I’ll show you.”

Inside the Sect Leader’s Residence stood the Hall of Manifest Dao.

Several training grounds were gathered there.

The training ground used by the Sect Leader and the Sect Leader’s disciples.

The training ground used when the Sect Leader and elders gave special instruction.

It would not be wrong to say that all of Wudang’s most precious teachings took place here.

The building at the center of the large and small training grounds was the Hall of Manifest Dao. Of every building Yeon Sowol had visited since arriving here, it was the largest.

Yet its enormous interior was dark and empty.

Only eight gigantic jars stood alone, gently lit by the sunlight streaming in from outside.

The jars were indeed huge.

With eight of them gathered together, they were magnificent enough.

But even considering that, the Hall of Manifest Dao was so large that its interior still looked barren and vacant.

‘So those are the jars they intend to treasure in Wudang.’

Eight of the ten jars Hyeonso had mentioned.

It seemed the completed ones were all kept here.

‘They’re a little smaller than the one I saw earlier.’

They looked about three to four meters tall, perhaps eighty percent of its size.

‘They said they were making a jar representing the Supreme Ultimate. Then these eight must represent the Eight Trigrams. That’s probably why they’re smaller.’

Step. Step.

Following Hwagokja, who walked without hesitation, Yeon Sowol entered the Hall of Manifest Dao.

Light and shadow crossed one another within, and the paintings on the jars’ surfaces came vividly into view.

“This is...”

The first painting showed a man traveling throughout the land.

At first, his hair was black. Later, it had turned white, and his face was covered in wrinkles.

“They are called the Eight Traces of Sanfeng.”

The eight traces left by Sanfeng.

“They are examples from the life our founding patriarch showed upon the path of seeking the Dao.”

Wudang’s founding patriarch could only mean Daoist Master Zhang Sanfeng.

A mythical figure said to have become an immortal after cultivation.

Hwagokja raised a finger and pointed to the first jar.

“This is the Trace of Qian, Heaven. The patriarch set his heart upon the Dao and wandered the land seeking a master.”

There had been neither internet nor formal education in that age.

Finding proper instruction must have been terribly difficult. To find a true master, one would naturally have to wander the land.

He must have suffered greatly.

Yeon Sowol could easily imagine it.

“He spent thirty-five years upon the road.”

What?

Wasn’t thirty-five years rather long...?

“When he finally met Daoist Master Fire Dragon and became his disciple, the patriarch was sixty-seven years old.”

What?

“A heart that never rests in cultivation. A heart unchanged for thirty-five years. It resembles Heaven, which moves without ceasing. Thus, it became the Trace of Qian.”

Wait a moment.

Yeon Sowol was flustered.

‘He entered the Dao at sixty-seven...?’

Then when did he die?

Was this right?

Regardless, Hwagokja pointed out the jars one by one and explained the paintings upon them.

“When his parents died at thirty-two, he gained great enlightenment. He immediately abandoned his post, distributed all his wealth to those around him, and departed upon the road. Thus, it became Thunder, the Trace of Zhen.”

...No.

“The Emperor offered gold, silver, and treasures, sending people to bring him back. Yet no one could catch the patriarch.”

It was the Trace of Xun, Wind.

The explanation continued like that, growing more detailed when it reached the sixth jar.

“One day, a wealthy man named Shen Wansan asked the patriarch for instruction. So the patriarch agreed to teach him how to make gold.”

Make gold?

Yeon Sowol’s eyes widened as Hwagokja gave a hollow laugh.

“Shen Wansan’s great fortune was spent preparing for alchemical refinement. All manner of rare medicinal herbs and materials were gathered, and an auspicious day was chosen. But the alchemy failed. All the materials burned away. Nothing was gained.”

What?

“Shen Wansan could not give up. He even sold his boats and nets, gathered wealth again, and acquired more materials. Bowing his head before the patriarch, he begged to continue the alchemy. But it failed again.”

...Ah.

“Still, Shen Wansan did not give up. He sold even his house and fields, liquidating all his assets as he continued attempting the alchemy. But in the end, even the furnace burned, and everything vanished. In an instant, he became penniless.”

...

“Yet Shen Wansan did not resent the patriarch. He only believed he was not yet worthy of receiving the Dao. Even so, he did not give up, but resolved to keep seeking the Dao.”

What?

“The patriarch was greatly pleased and passed on the rest of the method. In truth, all of it had been a test given by the patriarch.”

...No, that was...

Hwagokja spoke to the flustered Yeon Sowol.

“That is Clear Heart.”

With his hands clasped behind his back, he gazed serenely at the eight jars.

“Cultivation must be like that. To obtain the Dao, one must be able to abandon anything. One must be able to abandon office and wealth, and wander for thirty-five years in search of a master.”

Why was it?

Yeon Sowol suddenly felt goosebumps rise along his spine.

“One needs the relentless heart that forsakes riches, glory, and all else for the Dao alone. But what truly matters comes afterward.”

Hwagokja turned once more to the sixth jar.

The tale of Shen Wansan, who had remained calm even after losing everything.

“Even after doing all that, one may fail. But even in failure, one must not change.”

“Ah.”

“One must feel neither resentment nor despair, but simply walk the path of the Dao again as one always has. That is Clear Heart. It must not be forced. It must become so naturally. Only then does one become a vessel fit for the Dao.”

“...”

His breath suddenly stopped.

Yi Yubaek’s voice rang through his ears again.

- At last, your heart has become utmost.

When he had been beaten without knowing why, until one day he forgot he was even being beaten.

When he had been confined in a pitch-black closed-door seclusion chamber, screaming without sleep, until one day he forgot even time.

When he had trembled in fear after falling to the heart demon’s temptation, until suddenly everything had become brilliantly clear.

Seeking.

Seeking, and seeking again.

Without regret.

Without resentment.

Without despair.

Without impatience.

Simply seeking.

Seeking again.

The time he spent repeatedly wandering in search.

That strange mind which would have felt neither resentment nor fear, even if he had died just as he was.

“If I hear the Dao in the morning, I can die by evening.”

Hwagokja spoke.

“To hear the Dao in the morning and be content to die that evening. That is Clear Heart. It is the heart of those of us who practice the Way.”

Only then could Yeon Sowol understand.

‘What I realized was also a kind of Clear Heart. It really was.’

Clear Heart had always been...

‘A mad heart. It was a mad heart.’

But perhaps that was why he had come this far.

In this mad world,

without collapsing.

Without losing his way.

Feeling strangely renewed, Yeon Sowol looked around the Hall of Manifest Dao.

The building was still empty.

Yet it no longer felt barren somehow. The eight jars seemed to fill the entire space.

Then his gaze suddenly reached the jars at the end.

Yeon Sowol quickly turned his head.

“May I ask a question?”

“As many as you wish.”

“You said that Clear Heart went as far as the sixth jar.”

“I did.”

“Then what are those two jars?”

There were eight jars in total. Two remained.

Hwagokja smiled calmly.

“They are the Traces of Gen and Kun. Mountain and Earth. They show Loss of Self and Nonaction, the stages that follow Clear Heart.”

After Clear Heart came Loss of Self.

After Loss of Self came Nonaction.

Yeon Sowol’s eyes widened.

“There are stages after Clear Heart?”

“There are.”

“Then, Sect Leader, you...”

He suddenly realized that it might be an impudent question, but he could not take it back.

He was too curious.

Fortunately, Hwagokja answered without the slightest concern.

“I remain at Loss of Self.”

Loss of Self?

Not Nonaction?

If even a transcendent peak-realm master had not reached the final stage, then what exactly was the stage of Nonaction...?

As Yeon Sowol stared blankly, Hwagokja smiled and spoke.

“Dao friend. I can only thank you for returning the Cotton Palm Art to us so whole. Is there anything you desire from Wudang? If there is anything we can do, whatever it may be, we wish to repay you with all our heart and sincerity.”

“Ah.”

Yeon Sowol came to his senses.

Right. Of course.

He had originally come here for a reason.

‘At last...’

The moment had come.

After all his wandering, at the end of this long journey.

A chance to learn one of the world’s ultimate arts, called supreme-grade martial arts.

He had imagined it countless times.

Tenfold Brocade.

Cloud Ladder.

Yin-Yang Divine Art.