The Terminally Ill Young Master of the Baek Clan

“I will pass down the internal energy I’ve accumulated throughout my life.”

Passing down one’s internal energy meant transferring it.

It signified transferring one’s internal energy to another.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

In truth, it was not an easy feat.

How could the Great Star Absorbing Technique be considered anything other than a demonic art?

A person was not a mere waterskin filled with internal energy.

To transfer one’s internal energy also meant to transfer one’s essence and vitality.

It’s fundamentally different from infusing True Qi into someone’s acupoints to aid them, or conducting a True Qi guidance.

“No, this cannot be! How can you perform internal energy transfer on an outsider?” the Arhat Hall Head exclaimed in disbelief.

“Senior Brother! What are you saying?”

Even Dalma Hall’s master referred to him as senior brother.

That’s how serious the matter was.

Using the Small Recovery Pill, that was acceptable.

Even abolishing one’s own internal energy was feasible. Many high monks, deeming martial arts unnecessary, would place a restriction on their dantian.

However, internal energy transfer was a different matter.

“There will be a heavy burden on your body. Especially in your current state, Senior Uncle…”

The Medicine King Hall Head held back his words, but everyone understood.

After transferring his internal energy, the Divine Monk would perish.

But the Divine Monk spoke with a quiet smile.

“I have lived in suffering for a long time. I barely remember the time I climbed Mount Song with the great monk holding my hand as a child. Even after receiving the full precepts to pursue the path of Buddha, how much blood have I spilled with these two hands?”

The Divine Monk lifted his wrinkled hands.

They were worn and skeletal, like pigskin wrapped around bones.

How many demonic heads had departed for the other shore at the hands of these two?

Prajna True Qi, Arhat Fist, Scattering Flower Palm, countless Shaolin martial arts had bloomed from those hands.

“I wish to return even the gifts I received to achieve Nirvana. If I could, I would share this diseased body, not just my internal energy. If someone lacks eyes, I would dig mine out for them; if someone has no limbs, I would sever my own to give to them.” 𝙧𝓪ꞐỖ𝖇Ɛs

A silence fell over the assembly.

“It is a body that won’t live much longer anyway. Even if I tightly clutch my internal energy within this decaying flesh, what good would it do?”

“Great Senior Uncle…”

“It is said that all who are born must die. Do not dwell on it,” the Divine Monk said sternly.

However, both the Arhat Hall Head and the Prajna Hall Head still had words they wanted to say.

They kept their mouths tightly shut, hoping someone else would raise the matter, but it was something that had to be addressed.

“Gathering the orthodox Murim talents to pass this on to one of them is…”

In the end, the Arhat Hall Head was the first to speak.

The Arhat Hall, which included the One Hundred Eight Arhats, leads in directly overseeing Shaolin’s martial power.

Therefore, he couldn’t ignore it.

“To pass down Shaolin’s internal energy to an outsider talent, no matter the reason…”

“No-attachment almsgiving.”

“…Excuse me?”

“When giving charity, one must do so without attachment. Why did you even become a monk? You should just grow your hair out and join the military.”

“…”

“If you don’t like it, shut up, you brat!”

The Arhat Hall Head clamped his mouth shut.

The Divine Monk, Shaolin’s foremost master, was transferring his precious internal energy to another.

Mu Myung took a step back.

“It’s not as if I’d pass on the power of the Muscle-Tendon Change Marrow Cleanse technique. Don’t worry. I’ll only pass on pure natural energy.”

“Understood…”

“Jeong Myung will also be given the same opportunity. Furthermore, there will be something left solely for Shaolin, so do not worry.”

The Arhat Hall Head looked silently at the Abbot. Seeing that he remained quiet, it seemed he had already reached an agreement with the Divine Monk.

The Divine Monk grumbled, “You fools. If you act so petty, Shaolin will be disgraced, disgraced.”

“Who would dare criticize us?”

“News has spread across the entire Murim that Jang Gyeong became an immortal by giving up everything to an outsider. Shouldn’t I do something similar to preserve your honor?”

Jang Gyeong referred to the Sword Emperor.

The tales of the Sword Emperor, the Immortal Divine Dragon, and the ascension had deeply moved the entire orthodox Murim.

The Divine Monk was implying he intended to do the same.

“But…”

“He was always indifferent to worldly praise…”

Mu Myung was someone entirely unconcerned with Shaolin’s reputation.

It was obvious he was merely making excuses.

“As Abbot, I will respect Senior Brother’s wishes.”

“Thank you, Abbot.”

However, with even the Abbot supporting the Divine Monk, the others had nothing more to say.

And so, the discussion in the Founder’s Cave came to an end.

As the high monks began leaving one by one, the Divine Monk looked at the Medicine King Hall Head and spoke, “Hyun Jeong.”

“Yes, Great Senior Uncle.”

The Medicine King Hall Head responded with a respectful bow.

The Divine Monk spoke in a voice devoid of his earlier mirth, “Today is that day, isn’t it?”

“…Yes.”

“Let’s go together.”

The Medicine King Hall Head nodded solemnly.

The Medicine King Hall treated the sick.

Their medical expertise was impressive, as they created both Great Recovery and Small Recovery Pills.

However, some patients at the Medicine King Hall could not hope for a full recovery.

Those included those who had fallen into a severe form of Qi deviation and could not awaken.

Or elderly high monks afflicted with incurable age-related illnesses.

The high monks of the Mu line, where Mu Myung belonged, were of an age where it would not be surprising if they attained Nirvana at any moment.

Not everyone was an outstanding martial artist like Mu Myung or the Abbot. Some grew old and weak with age.

Among them was a high monk known by the Dharma name Mu Gyeon.

Mu Gyeon was at the initial stage of Peak, but his level wasn’t remarkable given his generation line.

It was four years ago that Mu Gyeon had collapsed during the morning prayers, clutching his chest.

He seemed like he could stand again, yet at some point, he could no longer rise.

He attempted rehabilitation, but this winter, he fell and fractured his ribs.

The bones, which should have healed, no longer did.

While lying in the Medicine King Hall, Mu Gyeon grew weaker with each passing day.

His eyes sunk in, and his cheeks hollowed out, showing unmistakable signs of someone nearing death.

Mu Myung looked down at his junior brother.

Mu Gyeon’s sunken, ashen eyes turned toward Mu Myung.

“Senior Brother, you’ve come.”

“You look terrible, kid.”

“I still feel full of energy. I feel like I could get up any moment.”

“…”

Though he didn’t look it, Mu Gyeon’s condition was the best it had been in months.

Usually, he couldn’t even open his eyes, let alone speak.

Yet, a few days ago, Mu Gyeon had regained consciousness and could even speak clearly.

The Medicine King Hall Head’s judgment was unmistakable.

‘This is terminal lucidity, the final flicker of life before death.’

The Medicine King Hall Head reported this matter to the Abbot, who then discussed it with the Divine Monk.

It was due to a secret known only to a select few within Shaolin.

“Will Senior Brother help me?”

“Yes, it’s me.”

“You’ve been through so much. Even you, Senior Brother.”

It was Mu Gyeon who was dying.

Yet Mu Gyeon looked at the Divine Monk with pity, as if he felt sorry for him.

The Divine Monk gave a bitter smile.

“I’ll make sure to have a word with Buddha after I enter Nirvana.”

“Do you think Buddha will agree to meet you?”

“Why don’t you go and ask him yourself?”

The Divine Monk exchanged such light-hearted banter.

The Medicine King Hall Head helped Mu Gyeon sit up.

Since Mu Gyeon couldn’t walk properly, they wrapped him in cloth and hoisted him onto the Divine Monk’s back.

The Divine Monk pretended to struggle with the weight.

“This scrawny kid is heavier than I expected.”

“It’s probably because you’re old, Senior Brother.”

“Just don’t cause any trouble on my back.”

“Hehehe…”

It was a rare sight to see an old man carrying another old man.

The Medicine King Hall Head guided the Divine Monk.

It was still early morning, even before the start of the dawn prayers. No one was around to see them.

“This way.”

Normally, the martial monks would be guarding the grounds, but none were on duty now.

In the summer night, only the sounds of insects could be heard.

The Divine Monk carried Mu Gyeon up the mountain.

At some point, even the Medicine King Hall Head stopped following them.

“Huff, huff…”

“Hey, I’m the one carrying you, so why are you the one panting?”

With that, the Divine Monk softened his steps.

Mu Gyeon seemed to relax a bit.

They continued past Shaoshi Peak, where Shaolin was located, heading further toward Junji Peak.

The Divine Monk was heading toward a deep valley beneath Junji Peak, a place unknown to anyone else.

Even in the height of summer, this damp, shadowed valley remained in shade all day long.

“Despite being called a ‘sickly monk,’ you’re still quite healthy, Senior Brother.”

“Yes.”

“Still, aren’t you a bit old for this kind of thing? Isn’t it about time you passed it on?”

“I suppose it is. But I don’t know who to pass it on to.”

This secret ritual had been practiced in Shaolin for nearly 1,000 years.

It was something that could never be understood by the world.

Because it was so secretive, only a select few high monks in Shaolin were aware of it.

“What about assigning it to Hyun Jeong? Among the Hyun line, only the Medicine King Hall Head, Hyun Jeong, knows of this.”

“Hyun Jeong is unsuitable. His heart is too soft.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“It would have been ideal if Hyun Do were here. He was a straightforward and responsible child.”

“…”

The Divine Monk fell silent.

After a moment, Mu Gyeon apologized.

“I’m sorry, Senior Brother. You were the one who sent Hyun Do away.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for. It was what he desired.”

“You must have endured a lot. After Hyun Do’s disciple, Beop Il, was expelled…”

It was the Divine Monk himself who had sent away Hyun Do.

There had been many complications during that process. At the time, Hyun Do’s young disciple, Beop Il, had misunderstood the situation and acted recklessly.

It wasn’t until Beop Il killed a fellow monk that the issue was resolved.

Beop Il was punished by having his dantian sealed and was subsequently expelled.

He hadn’t known that, after disappearing, Hyun Do would later reappear in the Imperial Palace as a sorcerer of the Demon Cult.

“It wasn’t your responsibility, Senior Brother.”

“…We’re here.”

The Divine Monk stopped walking.

Before they knew it, they had arrived at the valley.

The temperature had dropped sharply. The dark valley was shrouded in a faint mist that carried a metallic scent.

This valley was called the Serpent Dragon Valley, also known as Yi-ryong.

At the very depths of the valley was a cave entrance.

A boulder, much larger than a person, blocked the cave.

“Can you stand?”

“Yes.”

“Then stand.”

Mu Gyeon stood up.

For the ailing Mu Gyeon to stand and walk was nothing short of a miracle.

It was likely possible only because he had once been a master of the highest level.

He was burning the very last of his remaining vitality to produce a final surge of energy.

The Divine Monk looked at his junior brother briefly before moving the boulder from the cave entrance.

Ggggrr—

As the boulder was moved aside, the cave’s entrance was revealed.

The pitch-black interior, unsurprisingly, had no light at all.

It felt just like a snake pit.

Whiiish—!

A damp breeze blew from inside the cave.

The smell in that wind was sharp and metallic, stinging the nose!

It was a stench that would make anyone recoil.

Mu Gyeon quietly uttered a Buddhist chant.

“Senior Brother.”

Mu Gyeon stood still at the cave entrance, his hands pressed together in prayer.

His posture was remarkably upright.

Among the Mu line disciples, he was especially known for his strong Dharma power. The Divine Monk felt a deep respect for his disciple’s stance.

“Only now, on the verge of Nirvana, have I come to realize.”

“Realize what?”

“The impermanence of all things.”

“…”

“Life is a journey of weariness, and death is simply a return.”

The Divine Monk pressed his hands together in prayer.

“You have already become a Buddha, Junior Brother.”

There was no reply.

Lifting his head, Mu Gyeon did not respond and walked further into the cave.

Swish, swish.

His steps lacked strength, but he did not stop.

The Divine Monk quietly chanted a prayer.

“Om- Amogha Vairocana…”

Mu Gyeon did not return.

Woooo—

A strange wailing echoed from within the cave, as if something were crying out.

The Divine Monk once again blocked the entrance with the boulder.

Meanwhile.

In the Second Founder Meditation Room within the Shaolin temple grounds.

The Second Founder Meditation Room was built in honor of Founder Huike, and though it wasn’t an impressive space, it served its purpose.

It was an old cottage nestled deep within Mount Song, once used by a high monk who had entered nirvana due to a chronic illness. This was none other than the residence of the Three Buddhas of Endless Suffering.

Usually, the Beop line martial monks shared a common dormitory, but as they had the same master, they resided here together.

Currently, they had a guest.

It was Yi-gang.

He was staying here, living alongside the Three Buddhas of Endless Suffering.

Sometimes, Jeong Myung would come to assist Yi-gang with his inconvenient daily life, but today Yi-gang had asked Jeong Myung not to come.

He glared intently at the small table before him.

On it was a bowl of rice mixed roughly with wild greens.

The contents of the meal weren’t important.

Since he couldn’t use his legs, he couldn’t lift the spoon to eat, so he simply sat there, staring at the bowl.

Then—

Clink.

The spoon, which had been lying still, began to rise.

The spoon, now holding some rice, moved slowly.

This was different from telekinetic sword technique. It was the pure manifestation of telekinesis.

Just as Yi-gang opened his mouth to take a bite—

“Huh!”

The spell broke, and the spoon fell.

The grains of rice scattered messily.

Yi-gang frowned and turned his head.

“…What was that?”

Somewhere, he sensed a strange wave of energy.

It was an ominous feeling.