Return of the Mount Hua Sect [EN]: Chapter 1309

The enemy warriors rushed forward again, spears in hand, trying to close the gap Namgung Dowi had made in their lines.

*Whoosh.*

Hye-yeon quickly moved his black robe out of the way. He always did this before a fight, a habit from his days as a Shaolin monk in yellow robes. Even in black, the old habit stayed.

It showed that Shaolin teachings and fighting skills were still deep inside him.

Thud.

Hye-yeon took a short step and threw three quick punches. The wind from these strong strikes sent the rushing warriors flying back.

“Aargh! I really should have gone to Shaolin!”

“Shut up!”

Hye-yeon’s face turned red.

He felt uneasy around these people. He didn’t dislike them, but they were so loud and rushed, unlike the quiet life he knew.

“Kraaaah!!”

One of the enemies, eyes wild, swung his sword at Hye-yeon’s face. Even after seeing Hye-yeon’s power, these trained men attacked fiercely.

‘It’s pointless.’

Hye-yeon punched again. Golden light burst from his fist, covering the charging man.

“Aaaargh!”

The man screamed and flew back. He seemed badly hurt, but he had no major injuries.

The Shaolin fist is a fist of mercy.

Life is short. Why judge good and evil?

Someone good now might have been bad before. Someone bad now might have been good. Life is always changing.

So, Buddhist compassion should be for everyone, good or bad. Show kindness to the good because they are good, and even more kindness to the bad because they are bad.

‘Amitabha.’

But…

“Die, you bastard!”

Enemies attacked Hye-yeon from three sides.

Hye-yeon quickly moved his feet and turned his body.

Tap! Thwack!

He blocked a spear, hit the side of a sword, and punched the man in the chest.

Thoom! Thwoooom!

Lohan Fist.

Hye-yeon used the ancient Xingyi Fist, the base of all fist techniques, almost perfectly.

Hye-yeon’s strong inner power made his fist special. But it started as just a simple punch.

Only those who have mastered the Arhat can use the power of Buddha.

Thwoooom!

Hye-yeon’s fist crushed the enemy’s chest. He looked at the man with pity.

The man spat blood and fell. Hye-yeon moved on.

‘Amitabha.’

Was the man dead? He didn’t know.

His fist still had compassion, but not enough for those who attacked him, ready to die.

Maybe he broke the rule against killing again. Maybe he took another life.

‘Buddha.’

He knew.

Buddha doesn’t solve everything. People do. People who worry, search for answers, and suffer.

But now, he wanted to ask.

Even if Buddha only watches, he knows more. He would know if it’s right for a Buddhist to kill to save others. Is it right for monks to fight and win?

Was he on the right path as a Buddhist?

“Block him! No matter what!”

Sickles flew at Hye-yeon, ready to cut him to pieces. One touch would cut his flesh and break his bones.

But Hye-yeon calmly spread his hands.

His left hand was in front of his stomach, and his right hand was above his chest. It was the Avalokiteśvara pose.

Then, Hye-yeon’s right hand made many afterimages.

Avalokiteśvara Hand.

The afterimages were like a thousand arms. They pushed away, blocked, and brushed aside everything.

“What…”

Even trained killers were shocked by the sight.

The golden power from the afterimages exploded in their chests.

“Kraaah!”

Those hit spat blood and fell.

Hye-yeon took another step, filled with sadness. He said the Buddha’s name.

“Amitabha.”

If you follow Buddha, good and evil don’t matter. But Buddhists should do good.

Life is short, just a moment in time. But each life is precious.

Was this a contradiction?

This was right, and that was right. Nothing was wrong.

Then what should he do? What should he believe in? What should he live for?

‘Amitabha.’

Why did he leave Shaolin and wear black, breaking the rule against killing? Was he on the right path?

“Monk!”

Hye-yeon clenched his fist at the voice.

He had one answer.

‘I am not Buddha.’

Kooooom!

His fist pushed back the rushing enemies.

People call Buddha the one who knows everything. They seek because they don’t know. They worry and suffer because they don’t know.

So, how could he say suffering was wrong?

You can’t move forward without suffering. You can’t find enlightenment if you avoid it.

He had to accept the pain. He had to see the real world outside Shaolin and understand it.

To do that…

“Aren’t you concentrating, you bald-headed monk?!”

Hye-yeon flinched.

‘Chung Myung Dojang.’

He stepped forward.

At first, he followed because it felt right. He was tired of Shaolin’s hypocrisy. He thought Chung Myung could ease his pain.

But he learned from Chung Myung.

He saw the inner turmoil of a man like the sun.

Chung Myung worries and worries, pushing himself hard, and finds the best answer. He finds a path for himself and others.

Sometimes the path is twisted, strict, or wrong.

But Chung Myung doesn’t give up. He worries and moves on.

‘Does Dojang know?’

That this is the path a Buddhist should take.

It made him laugh.

Chung Myung is Taoist, not Buddhist. But his life is a model for Buddhists.

Even though they have different goals, Hye-yeon had to follow that attitude.

“Monk! They’re coming from the front!”

“No, you bastard! Fight!”

“Me? Against them?”

“Then shut up!”

“Agreed.”

“That’s my senior brother.”

Hye-yeon smiled.

This was why he was with them.

‘It’s not different.’

These people were like him.

Hye-yeon struggled to follow Buddha, and they chased the revival of Mount Hua and Chung Myung.

He felt a kinship he never felt in Shaolin. It comforted him.

He wasn’t lonely here. His heart was heavy, but he found strength.

‘Abbot.’

Hye-yeon’s right hand reached his side.

‘Am I still wrong?’

Groooooaaaaaan!

His fist pushed back everyone. He cleared the path he wanted to take.

Hye-yeon saw the closed path open.

It was a narrow, dark alley filled with enemies.

Anyone would avoid it. It was a path to never take.

But Hye-yeon jumped into it.

‘Am I really wrong?’

Foolish and ignorant. But it was the path a monk should take.

It was the path to endure pain, to push himself, and to seek enlightenment.

Wham!

Hye-yeon kicked off the ground.

He took a half-step into the valley.

‘Even if I’m wrong… if I have to walk it, I will.’

Thud!

Hye-yeon took another step.

It was his first step, thinking for himself.

Hye-yeon looked up.

In the dark alley, enemies lined up like devils.

But Hye-yeon’s eyes were clear.

It was okay to collapse on this path.

‘What regrets would I have?’

If this was hell, it was where Hye-yeon should be.

He was covered in golden light, a solemn Buddha-light.