A Modern Man Who Got Transmigrated Into the Murim World

Lotus Shinro, a direct operative of the Murim Alliance, was scouting the Jiangxi area to replace the missing Silver Peak Lord. He was surveying a scene of utter devastation.

The man, known as the president of the Jo Family Merchant Guild, was someone Lotus Shinro had managed to watch covertly from a nearby alley. His face was still etched with shock. Black Heaven Slayer—an absolute master who killed the mysterious leader of Mosan Valley and held dominion over the dark factions with the Sichuan Association—had been utterly defeated in less than three seconds and fled with his tail between his legs.

The martial skills of this president were truly beyond imagination. And then, there was mention of the legendary Sword Saint. If the president of the Jo Family Guild was truly a successor of the Sword Saint, this would be an earth-shaking event in the world of the martial arts.

The black dots that filled the sky… The sight of them, as they consumed the eight kings of the Black Heaven Sect one by one, was a shock that shattered all the martial knowledge Lotus Shinro had known. From everything he had witnessed, it was clear that the Black Heaven Sect could no longer dominate Jiangxi. The destructive power of an absolute master was that immense. The martial sects poured an incredible amount of resources and effort to produce even a single master of that caliber.

Now, the rumors about the divine power of this young absolute master would spread like wildfire across the martial world. The true value of an absolute master was the crowd that would naturally gather around them. And if they bore the symbolism of being the Sword Saint’s successor, they would gain unprecedented fame in the history of martial arts.

As Lotus Shinro thought further, he shuddered. Wasn’t the reason he was sent here to observe the movements of the Jo Family Guild, which was creating great waves in the martial world? A massive flow of gold had been heading to Anhui and Jiangxi. Moreover, the population in the surrounding provinces was noticeably decreasing as people flocked to Anhui and Jiangxi.

Anhui was the realm of the righteous sects, while Jiangxi represented the dark factions. Naturally, the damage from these movements was affecting both the righteous and dark factions alike. Intelligence reports indicated that the information network of the Sichuan Association was also actively operating in Jiangxi.

With the merchant guild’s influence already stirring up turmoil in the martial world, adding the powerful fame of a Sword Saint’s successor would surely lead to chaos. In the history of the martial arts, had there ever been a figure from the business world who wielded such power? If his influence extended northward beyond Anhui and Jiangxi… And strangely, all the sects he had connections with were among the Five Great Families.

He obtained iron from the Sichuan Tang Clan, and he ran his business alongside prominent figures like Zhuge Yun, Namgung Jangho, and Paeng Kak. If he managed to unite these families through his connections with the next generation of successors, the alliance could very well split in half.

The Jo Family Merchant Guild was an obvious threat to the alliance.

With a tense expression, Lotus Shinro used his lightness skill and disappeared from the scene.

* * *

When Paeng Kak, covered in soot, returned from the mine with workers, Jo Hui and Han Seolhyun were also arriving at the guild, guiding injured comrades.

“I thought it was possible, but…!”

The guild was filled with countless injured people, resembling a battlefield. Having come down from the mine and seen fierce flames rising from the shore of Lake Poyang, he had expected trouble at the guild, but the situation was far more severe than he anticipated.

“Who did this? Was it the Black Heaven Sect?” Paeng Kak drew his large blade aggressively, his eyes flashing with anger. Namgung Jangho, standing by, looked at him with a mixture of pity and unease.

“I’ll kill them all, those bastards!” Paeng Kak, truly living up to his reputation as the warrior from Hebei with brawn to match, was filled with rage.

Just then, Yeom Sangrok was supporting Jang Ilryong as they entered a side hall of the guild. Jo Hui, who was leading the injured, hurried over to check on Jang Ilryong’s condition.

“Oh…!”

The moment Jo Hui saw Jang Ilryong’s hands, his heart sank. The flesh on his hands was almost entirely gone, exposing the bones beneath. Jo Hui stood frozen, trembling as he gazed at the horrid sight.

“Those bastards…!” Jang Ilryong, though skilled with a spear, was primarily a martial artist who used his fists. For a martial artist who relied on fist techniques, an injury like this was a death sentence, a crushing blow to his future.

So Wigiang, the healer from the Life and Death Sect who was examining Namgung Jangho’s injuries, gasped and hurried over to Jang Ilryong.

“Click, click… Tsk…!” So Wigiang clicked his tongue in dismay, a look of deep pity on his face.

However, Jang Ilryong flexed his chest muscles and spoke boldly. “What are you all treating me like a cripple for? I’m not dead yet, am I?”

He twirled his shoulders and grinned. “I’m fine. So stop with the sad faces.”

Jo Hui looked at So Wigiang with desperate eyes. “Can he recover?”

Despite his earnest gaze, So Wigiang shook his head slowly. “Even with the best possible treatments to regrow flesh, it’s beyond hope. His hands will soon start to rot; it would be better to cut them off now.”

“The Life and Death Sect’s medicine is said to be the best in the world…” Jo Hui, filled with despair, stood in front of Jang Ilryong’s massive figure and slowly held his injured hands.

“Ugh… That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt,” Jang Ilryong muttered.

As Jo Hui looked at him with darkened eyes, he spoke through clenched teeth.

“Doctor, we’re willing to pay any amount of gold. Please, tell us a way to save his hands.” So Wigiang pondered for a long time, but no suitable solution came to mind.

“As a healer, it’s irresponsible to even mention it, but… there’s a legend of something called Nirvana’s True Earth.”

A healer had no right to speak of miracles, but So Wigiang had no choice but to mention it.

“Nirvana’s True Earth? What is that?” Jo Hui’s question was earnest, but So Wigiang felt at a loss. It was something he had only ever heard of as a myth while studying medicine.

“During the chaos of the Demon Sect’s rebellion, a warrior was severely injured and fled, finding himself trapped in a remote mountain valley,” So Wigiang continued, stroking his long beard.

“At the time, his body was in such a grievous state—like he had been exposed to *Hwagolsan* (a corrosive acid)—that his bones were practically visible. But then he discovered a strange patch of earth exuding a mysterious aura where no vegetation grew. When he rubbed his body against this soil, new flesh began to regenerate.”

“Where is this place?”

So Wi-gang shook his head slowly.

“According to the story, some doctors who heard this rumor tried to track down the warrior but failed. And even more strangely, when they found the valley where he supposedly was, all they saw there was a lone wooden Buddha statue. That’s all. It’s just an old tale from centuries ago with no real proof.”

“Hmm…”

The story felt as ephemeral as catching mist, but So Wi-gang’s next words were enough to spark renewed interest in Jo Hui.

“But… have you heard of Wolha-rim?”

“Isn’t that one of the two most mysterious intelligence networks in the martial world, along with Yajeop?”

“Rumor has it that the leader of Wolha-rim back then was that very warrior.”

“Is that true?”

So Wi-gang gave a wry smile.

“It’s just a story. They say that back then, the Wolha-rim leader was nicknamed *Hong-in* (Red One). People who saw him described his skin as pale and ruddy like a child’s. Considering he was over seventy, it certainly was unusual.”

“Hmm!”

“And another thing that fueled suspicion was that he always wore a Buddha pendant. And he would only operate at night. Naturally, people thought he did that to keep his secrets. That’s also why people started calling his information network Wolha-rim, which means ‘Forest Under the Moon.'”

Indeed, his behavior was enough to arouse anyone’s suspicion.

It was possible that his youthful complexion was due to some martial art technique, like *Juangoong* (Crimson Complexion Skill). But his actions, like wearing a Buddha pendant despite public gossip, and only moving at night, didn’t make sense. There was likely more to it.

“Anyway, because of that tale, martial artists began calling that mysterious place *Yeorae Jinto* (True Land of the Buddha). Anyone interested in legends of the martial world has probably heard of it.”

Jo Hui’s face took on a somber look.

“Wolha-rim…”

Wolha-rim, one of the two secretive information networks alongside Yajeop.

As someone from modern times, Jo Hui understood the immense value of intelligence better than anyone.

He had tried numerous times to connect with them but only managed to contact Yajeop. Wolha-rim remained elusive.

“Do you know how to get in touch with Wolha-rim?”

So Wi-gang gave a bitter smile.

“I’m just a humble physician. How could I have a connection with such a mysterious network? Besides…”

He looked at Jang Il-ryong’s hand.

“Even if you managed to track down Wolha-rim and verify the legend, how long do you think that would take?”

“Hmm…”

“The color of his bones is already changing, a sign of necrosis. If we don’t amputate within three days, the rot will spread up his arm.”

Thinking pragmatically, it was impossible to risk everything on what was merely a legend.

So Wi-gang’s story seemed outlandish, but Jo Hui had a strange intuition that the *Yeorae Jinto* might actually exist.

But with Jang Il-ryong only having three days, the situation was urgent.

“I believe I can solve that problem.”

Jo Hui turned sharply to Han Seol-hyeon, nearly breaking his neck with the sudden motion.

“Solve it? How?”

Despite her confident words, Han Seol-hyeon’s expression remained dark.

“In the North Sea, where I’m from, we lack medical help. Doctors rarely venture into the stormy lands of the North Sea. So, when we sustain serious injuries, we have to carry the injured all the way to *Daehorabteok*. And as you know, the North Sea and Daehorabteok are far apart.”

Jo Hui’s eyes glinted as if he had realized something.

“Are you saying…?”

“Yes. In the North Sea, we use the *Haneumbingjang* (Cold Seal of Ice) to prevent infection when a wound begins to rot. But that is…”

Jo Hui shook his head in disbelief.

“No, he’d freeze to death first!”

“Exactly. Most people don’t survive the Haneumbingjang and die before reaching Daehorabteok. But if he has exceptional willpower and stamina, he might survive.”

There’s a saying about cold that chills to the bone. It’s said that when the cold invades the marrow, the pain is beyond imagination.

But could Jang Il-ryong endure the intense cold of the *Bingjang* with his exposed bones?

It would be hard for him to last even half a day, let alone a full one.

At that moment, Jang Il-ryong let out a hearty laugh.

“Haha! What’s a bit of cold water? I’m the man who once broke ice on Daesan and stood in it for half a day! Bring on the Bingjang!”

“You crazy fool! Do you think this is a joke?”

Jo Hui’s face was filled with worry, despite his words.

If anyone understood the extreme cold of the Bingjang, it was Jang Il-ryong, who had seen it firsthand while traveling with Han Seol-hyeon.

But he couldn’t allow himself to worry others.

“No need to look so grim. Whether it’s a week or a month, I’ll endure.”

Jo Hui contemplated seriously, then looked over to Jegal Un.

“Have the troops been organized?”

“Only those led by Danju Wi Byokho remain. They should be here soon.”

Jo Hui glanced toward the manor in the distance.

“And the formation? How much progress has been made?”

“Considering your skills, it should be done within half a day. Since it was started this morning, it should be nearly complete.”

“How much food have we stocked up?”

Jegal Un chuckled, finding the question amusing.

“We are the Cho Trading Company. It’s surprising that Young Master Cho would ask such a question.”

Well, even if they only used the grains and goods stored in the Cho Trading Company’s warehouse, the people here could last for several months.

But isn’t it better to be safe than sorry?

After experiencing a mistake once, Cho Hui couldn’t afford to overlook even the smallest detail.

“Can your formation withstand an Absolute Master?”

“If you mean the Black Lotus Master… I can assure you.”

Je Gal-woon’s eyes gleamed with confidence.

“My brother and I will deploy the Ever-Shifting Formation with full power and show him what hell truly means, for three days, or even a month.”

If the Je Gal clan’s genius siblings dedicated themselves to creating a single formation, it would undoubtedly be a formidable one.

If Je Gal-woon spoke so confidently about defending against the Black Lotus Master, an Absolute Master, then they could feel at ease.

With a somber expression, Cho Hui spoke to Han Seol-hyun.

“…I leave it in your hands.”

Biting her delicate lips, Han Seol-hyun approached Jang Il-ryong.

“Hurry up and do it, please.”

The man, who was trying to appear carefree, was visibly nervous.

As Han Seol-hyun’s delicate hands began to emit a cold white frost, Jang Il-ryong abruptly twisted his body and retreated.

“Wait! I want to try something first!”

All of his companions, including Cho Hui, looked at him with puzzled expressions.

“Try something? What is it?”

Maintaining a serious face, Jang Il-ryong’s eyes gleamed intensely.

“A Go board! And some liquor!”

Cho Hui’s eyes narrowed.

Was this lunatic trying to imitate Guan Yu?

Legend has it that when Hua Tuo, the famed healer, treated a poison that had seeped into Guan Yu’s shoulder, Guan Yu played Go without flinching as Hua Tuo cut into his bone.

Lim Sang-rok clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“Ha… No one here is normal.”

Jin Ga-hee glanced at him.

“Yeah, you’re the craziest one.”

“What? Look who’s talking, you bloodsucking ghost.”

Ignoring their petty bickering, Cho Hui urged Han Seol-hyun.

“Just get it done, please.”

“Understood.”

Buzzing.

Han Seol-hyun placed her frosted hands on Jang Il-ryong’s palms.

In that instant, Jang Il-ryong’s eyes widened to their limit.

“Arghhhh!”

As soon as the freezing energy of the Frosty Ice Palm touched his hands, he abandoned all thoughts of playing Go and drinking.

The extreme cold permeated his very bones!

Could mere words like “pain” even capture the extent of what he was experiencing?

He felt as if he was on the verge of losing consciousness.

“Jang!”

“Don’t pass out! You must stay conscious!”

For a person facing the chilling energy of the Frosty Ice Palm, survival depended on staying awake and fighting back.

Han Seol-hyun shouted urgently.

“Summon your inner energy! Counter the cold with all your might!”

“Grrr…”

Jang Il-ryong opened his eyes with difficulty, letting out a beast-like growl.

To endure such pain for days?

Even for a warrior like Jang Il-ryong, it seemed impossible.

Cho Hui’s steel sword floated up effortlessly.

“I’ll be back!”

Leaping gracefully onto the sword, Cho Hui shot out of the side building, soaring into the distant sky.

Shoooo!

The sound of air splitting was deafening!

Namgung Jang-ho, lying on his sickbed, blinked in shock.

“What… what did I just see?”

Je Gal-woon also trembled, dropping his teacup in shock.

“Th-that was…!”

Lim Sang-rok and Jin Ga-hee were equally stunned.

“Whoa… he’s gotten even stronger. Sword flight, no less! Hahaha!”

“Wow, that’s amazing!”

Sword Flight, the legendary ability of a Sword Saint.

A member of the Cho Trading Company’s executive staff murmured in awe.

“The Sword God… the Little Sword God…”

It was the first time the term “Little Sword God” was uttered in the martial world.

* * *

After three days of flying, Cho Hui arrived at Namgung’s residence.

At this point, the most reliable person he could turn to was Namgung.

Taking Namgung’s advice was the best course of action.

In the garden of the Changcheon House of Elders, Namgung Seong-chan, who had been taking an afternoon nap, jerked awake and wiped his mouth.

“Huh! What is this intense presence from the sky?”

Whoooosh!

Thud!

As Cho Hui gracefully dismounted from his flying sword, he glanced around the Changcheon Elders’ Garden, smiling fondly as if recalling old memories.

“It’s still beautiful here. Have you been well, Master?”

Namgung Sung-chan rubbed his eyes several times.

Was this a dream, or was it real?

The Changcheon Elders’ Garden was as tranquil as ever, with its misty atmosphere, clear streams trickling softly, and the lingering fragrance of blooming flowers.

While Cho Hui felt nostalgic, recalling his first visit to the Namgung clan, he didn’t have time to indulge in such memories now.

“Where is the clan leader?”

“The clan leader? Wait… more importantly…”

Cho Hui’s sword was still floating midair.

This was clearly beyond a mere hovering skill.

“…Have you reached a new level already?”

It was beyond shock—unbelievable, even absurd.

Was it truly possible for a person’s martial prowess to develop so rapidly?

When one’s Sword Control Art reaches its peak, allowing full control like an extension of one’s own body, it unites the wielder’s mind with the sword, forming a Sword Spirit. And only then is the legendary Sword Flight possible.

This level lies beyond the state of unity, where sheer will alone can stir powerful energy.

The realm of Sword Flight was something that neither he, the highest master of the Elders, nor the Namgung clan leader had yet achieved, and here it was, right before him.

Within the Absolute Mastery realm, martial power can be divided into four stages based on the depth of control:

Absolute Mastery: Martial Spirit
Absolute Mastery: Martial Soul
Absolute Mastery: Martial Infinity
Absolute Mastery: Martial Boundlessness

He himself had only just reached Martial Spirit, while the clan leader, Namgung Su, was somewhere between Martial Spirit and Martial Soul.

Yet, Cho Hui could wield Sword Flight with such ease, implying his level had surpassed Martial Soul and was approaching Martial Infinity.

What exactly is Martial Infinity?

The two legendary figures who competed for the title of the world’s greatest—Wu Huang of the Martial Alliance and the Purple Sword Sage of Mount Hua—were said to have reached the unmatched realm of Martial Boundlessness.

Outside of them, only Grandmaster Gonggong of Shaolin had achieved Martial Infinity.

This meant that Cho Hui was already standing alongside the greatest powers of the martial world, at the pinnacle of the Seven Martial Seats.

Back when they’d first met, Cho Hui had been strong but inexperienced, unable to properly harness even basic techniques.

Yet in less than a decade, he’d gone from Martial Spirit to Martial Infinity.

“Was the clan leader right after all?”

The clan leader, Namgung Su, had returned from a trip to Jiangxi with a thrilled expression.

—“Cho Bonggong is a successor of the Sword God!”

Indeed, only three have ever achieved godhood in the long history of the martial world!

Was this the level of power left behind by a god?

Yet Cho Hui’s expression looked urgent.

“Can we leave casual talk for later?”

Namgung Sung-chan, noting Cho Hui’s tense expression, stepped down from the pavilion and led the way.

“The clan leader should be in his office. Let’s go to the clan leader’s hall first.”

“Yes.”

* * *

When Namgung Su finished his work early and came to the garden to rest, Namgung Sung-chan and Cho Hui were there waiting for him.

“Cho Bonggong?”

Namgung Su looked momentarily surprised at Cho Hui’s unexpected visit, but then broke into a warm smile.

“Why did you come unannounced?”

“I heard from the guards you’d be coming to the garden, so I waited here.”

Cho Hui bowed courteously but looked visibly unsettled.

Namgung Su immediately sensed his urgency.

“Is something happening in Jiangxi?”

Cho Hui tilted his head.

“Have you not received any word from the Namgung warriors stationed in Jiangxi?”

“Is something wrong at Ye Il-p’o?”

At that moment, a warrior from the communications division, responsible for delivering messages, came rushing toward them.

“Clan leader! Urgent news!”

Namgung Su’s eyes widened as he saw the color of the letter in the warrior’s hand.

Red.

A red letter, used only in times of crisis or rapid change.

“Hurry, bring it here!”

The warrior knelt and presented the letter, and Namgung Su snatched it and began to read.

“What?!”

As Namgung Su absorbed the contents, Cho Hui’s voice came softly from behind him.

“As you can see, the Black Lotus sect has attacked the Cho Trading Company. Both the Namgung warriors and my men have suffered significant casualties.”

“Hah!”

The Black Lotus was no simple organization.

Their unprincipled ways meant they operated with many informants and a highly decentralized structure.

Despite the Cho Trading Company’s efforts to conceal it, the Black Lotus sect was bound to eventually discover that the warriors protecting the company were from the Namgung clan.

Cho Hui had suggested deploying the clan’s warriors discreetly, but Namgung Su had instead planned to use this information to their advantage.

Once the Black Lotus knew the Namgung clan was protecting the Cho Trading Company, they’d be wary of conflict with the Martial Alliance.

Yet they attacked without hesitation!

Even for the Black Lotus, this couldn’t have been an easy decision.

Considering the gravity of the situation and Cho Hui’s personality, Namgung Su could only think of one reason.

“Did you push them into a corner?”

“…”

Cho Hui had no answer.

In truth, he hadn’t expected the Black Lotus sect to launch such a large-scale attack only days after he’d cut off their supplies.

His biggest mistake had been in trusting too much in the seaweed medicine supplied to them.

Since their lives depended on the Cho Trading Company’s medicinal supplies, it seemed obvious they wouldn’t dare to attack recklessly.

He hadn’t foreseen that they’d decide on a showdown under such circumstances.

But regrets, however quickly realized, are always too late.

“Success after success often narrows one’s vision.”

Namgung Su’s voice grew somber.

“As the sages said, the resolve of one who has never failed can be the most dangerous of all.”

“Without looking left or right, charging up the mountain… there is something to be said for Lord Jo’s unyielding nature. But isn’t it time to consider that he now bears the weight of countless lives on his shoulders?”

Jo-hwi could say nothing.

Maybe hastily cutting off supplies had been a hasty decision, driven by overconfidence after mastering his martial arts.

That overconfidence had led him to trust in false medicine, to underestimate the Black Lotus Sect, one of the Three Conqueror Heavens.

Clearly, he should have been more meticulous and prudent.

No matter how powerful one person may be, they cannot defend every place at once.

“Regardless of the reason, the warriors of the Namgung clan have perished.”

Namgung-su’s steady, resolute gaze bore into Jo-hwi, making his heart feel even heavier.

“Now it’s time to give them an answer.”

Huh?

Was this not a reproach?

Namgung-su looked southward, revealing the imposing aura of a ruler.

“Lord Jo, I hope you’ll grow a lot from this experience. Remember well that every decision you make holds hundreds, even thousands, of lives in its balance.”

Jo-hwi bowed deeply.

“Your words strike like a needle to my forehead, and I will engrave them on my heart.”

The Azure Sky Sword Hero.

The more he interacted with him, the more Jo-hwi understood why “hero” was part of his title.

Hearing his rebuke, Jo-hwi’s heart, which had felt as heavy as a stone, now felt unexpectedly lighter.

It was a strange sensation, as if a previously unseen signpost had appeared.

Is this how the righteous families’ teachings resonate within the heart?

“Leader of the Azure Dragon Group.”

Namgung Myung, standing by Namgung-su, bowed.

“Yes, my lord! Give your command!”

“The Great Namgung Clan shall set forth to Jiangxi. Prepare for war with the Black Lotus Sect.”

Jo-hwi was taken aback.

“Is it possible without support from the Alliance?”

A battle between a mere clan and an entire sect.

The odds weren’t favorable.

“Who said we lack support from the Alliance?”

“Excuse me?”

Wasn’t it the Namgung Clan that had fallen out with the Alliance when Jo Trading Company defied their orders?

“Not long ago, the Alliance Leader himself visited our clan. He mentioned he had come straight from the Jo Trading Company.”

“Ah…”

Jo-hwi had heard that the Murim Alliance Leader had visited while he was in Sichuan.

“Whatever he saw in Jiangxi, he left promising full support. He even gave us the Heavenly Dragon Flag, which grants access to the Heavenly Dragon Guard of the Alliance’s Henan Branch.”

Suddenly, Namgung-su smiled warmly.

“Three absolute martial experts: my uncle, myself, and you, Lord Jo. Along with our clan’s finest combat troops and the Heavenly Dragon Guard, we have ample chance of victory. Unlike some, I am not reckless.”

“…”

The man was exemplary in every way, but his grudge-bearing and nagging were excessive.

Jo-hwi let out a quiet sigh and shook his head.

“I cannot participate in the battle for the time being.”

“Hmm? Why is that? Isn’t the Jo Trading Company in greater danger than the Namgung Clan?”

Jo-hwi’s eyes grew darker.

Slowly, he explained the situation.

Hearing the unfortunate plight of Jang Il-ryong, whose life might be at risk, Namgung-su also felt sympathetic.

“What a tragedy!”

Namgung-su had also taken a liking to Jang Il-ryong as a promising young warrior.

It had been a long time since he had felt so glad to see a junior martial artist in the rivers and lakes.

“The Elixir of Nirvana…”

“Do you know anything about it?”

“I have heard tales about the Master of the Moonlit Grove, as it is a rather well-known story.”

“Then is it true that he was a warrior who survived by training with the Elixir of Nirvana?”

Namgung-su shook his head.

“That’s just a rumor. Simply because he retained his youth through martial arts and wore a Buddha statue around his neck doesn’t confirm he’s the same warrior. He was famous for something else entirely.”

“For what?”

Namgung-su looked eastward.

“He was the most significant patron in the history of Shaolin. On the days he was expected to visit, the temple would even send Arhats to greet him.”

Jo-hwi was slightly taken aback.

Compared to the Nine Great Sects, the Five Great Clans’ sense of authority was like a firefly under the moon.

The monks of Shaolin, renowned as the highest-ranking martial monks, would send Arhats to greet a mere benefactor?

“Just how much did he donate to make such noble Arhats serve as his escorts?”

“A million nyang.”

Jo-hwi’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

“There were rumors that he donated a total of one million nyang in gold over his lifetime.”

“Th-that’s absurd!”

A million nyang in gold!

Even as the head of the Jo Trading Company, controlling commerce in Hefei and Jiangxi, Jo-hwi had never seen that kind of money.

“Surely you’ve interacted with information brokers; you must have some idea of their income. He donated almost all of his wealth to Shaolin’s temple funds.”

“Wow…”

With a million nyang in gold, one could raise an army.

To offer such an enormous sum entirely to monks!

It renewed Jo-hwi’s sense of Shaolin’s reputation and power.

“But why? Why would he give all that money to Shaolin?”

“That’s the mystery. We only know he had a deep connection with Shaolin.”

“Hmm…”

After a moment of contemplation, Jo-hwi spoke again.

“Do you know of a way to contact the Moonlit Grove?”

Namgung-su’s response was like a bolt of lightning.

“The Alliance has been tracking them for over thirty years. They have completely vanished from the martial world. Their annihilation has become nearly accepted as fact.”

“…Annihilated?”

Jo-hwi felt a wave of despair.

“If it’s the Elixir of Nirvana you seek, then head to Shaolin.”

“Why Shaolin…?”

Namgung-su stroked his long beard.

“There is a saying that the Master of the Moonlit Grove entered Nirvana in Shaolin in his final years, after handing over all authority to his successor.”

Shaolin…

Jo-hwi’s face scrunched up.

These monks and Taoist priests always held themselves in such high regard.

Among them, Shaolin was a sect that boasted, “All martial arts under heaven come from Shaolin.”

Thinking of dealing with such solemn, grave, and dignified monks, Jo-hwi already felt a headache coming on.

“Would the leaders of Shaolin even agree to meet with me?”

“You are a formidable martial artist and the head of the Jo Trading Company, a notable figure in today’s commerce. Also…”

Namgung-su glanced at Jo-hwi’s sleeve with a grin.

“Shaolin does not refuse benefactors.”

Clearly, his gaze was directed at Jo-hwi’s purse hidden in his sleeve.

Jo-hwi’s face scrunched further.

“Why are monks so obsessed with money?”

“Most Buddhist and Taoist sects, especially the Nine Great Sects, are like that.”

Unlike the Five Great Clans, the Nine Great Sects don’t engage directly in business.

The Buddhist teaching of emptiness and the Taoist principle of non-action fundamentally start by controlling and letting go of human desire.

For them, mingling with secular people to earn money would be indulging in the worldly attachment of material desires, which violates Buddhist precepts.

Given this, they must rely heavily on donations from secular disciples or temple visitors.

Shaolin, with thousands of monks, required immense quantities of rice just to feed everyone each day, not to mention costs for regular ceremonies and offerings for visitors, all essential to maintaining their prestige.

“Hmm…”

But Jang Il-ryong…

How could he weigh the cost when a martial artist’s life was at stake?

If Shaolin’s monks loved money, maybe it was for the best.

Jo-hwi looked back at Namgung-su.

“Will you depart immediately?”

“A ruler does not avoid the fight that comes to him.”

“Then… I ask you, please delay the conflict until I return to Jiangxi.”

“Hmm…”

Avenging the fallen servants, soothing the anguish of their spirits.

Jo-hwi knew this would be a difficult request.

“…Please, I ask this of you.”

Yet Namgung-su felt heartened by Jo-hwi’s earnestness.

He had already realized that his presence on the battlefield would save countless lives.

It’s easy to be intoxicated by one’s talents, but difficult to remain aware of one’s “responsibility” in all situations. This incident had spurred his growth.

“I will do so.”

“And I have one more favor to ask.”

The matter he couldn’t address properly due to Jang Il-ryong’s dire condition.

“In our company, there is a chief named Yi Yeosong. He is currently missing…”

Namgung-su nodded solemnly.

“I am acquainted with him. He is the one who manages your Iron Fort, is he not?”

Namgung-su still remembered Chief Yi, who had come to explain and inspect the Iron Carriage’s roof mechanisms and features.

“I understand. I will look for him.”

“Thank you.”

Jo-hwi bowed deeply in respect.

Then, the iron sword at his waist silently unsheathed itself and floated midair.

With a light step, Jo-hwi climbed onto it, offered another respectful salute, and spoke.

“Then, I will see you at Lake Poyang.”

Swoosh!

With a fierce sound, the sword cut through the air, Jo-hwi riding it southward.

The incense-offering visitors to Shaolin Temple were mostly poor.

At best, those who appeared slightly better off were holding mulberry bark or a handful of offering rice. Most of the pilgrims carried only cheap incense, solely to offer in prayer.

Moreover, scattered among the line of visitors were beggars, waiting to receive the meal offered to temple visitors.

As Jo-hwi took in their appearances, he finally nodded to himself.

“This place must be operating at a loss.”

How could one drive away those who came to pray for peace in the afterlife for their deceased father, for their mother’s illness to subside, or for the safe birth of their child?

With Shaolin holding its reputation as a Buddhist holy site, turning away pilgrims was simply unthinkable.

Jo-hwi could feel Shaolin’s struggles just by observing the situation.

Though he was in a rush due to concerns for Jang Il-ryong, he couldn’t just cut ahead of those who had waited with empty stomachs.

Thus, Jo-hwi stood at the end of the long line.

This drew stares from the other visitors.

Unlike their ragged attire, Jo-hwi was dressed in luxurious silk martial robes.

He exuded a refined and noble air, and with the iron sword at his side, anyone could tell he was a martial artist.

A woman in front of him, noticing him, cautiously spoke up.

“Please, go right up to the mountain gate!”

“Yes, young master, there’s no need for someone like you to wait with us…”

Though momentarily taken aback, Jo-hwi quickly realized how martial artists typically behaved in this society.

As a modern person, he was accustomed to queuing regardless of status, considering it natural and fair.

Even if his situation was urgent, he believed following order was only right.

But here, in the martial world of Central Plains, power often trumped law.

Martial artists and nobles rarely showed concern for the lower classes.

“No, I’ll wait my turn.”

Feeling a sense of pride, Jo-hwi decided not to use his martial skills to act arrogantly. Doing so would contradict his values as a modern person.

“Oh, there’s really no need, but…”

The onlookers found it strange for a martial artist to wait with them.

At that moment, a group of warrior monks passed by.

Their foreheads bore the distinct ( mark of Shaolin monks).

“Ho…”

Jo-hwi was quietly impressed.

True to Shaolin’s reputation as the origin of external martial arts, these monks, drenched in sweat, possessed strong and disciplined physiques.

One of the monks briefly glanced at Jo-hwi and respectfully pressed his hands together in greeting.

“Amitabha Buddha. From where does this noble warrior come?”

Jo-hwi was about to return the greeting with clasped hands when he quickly lowered one hand.

He remembered that while other Buddhist monks used both hands, Shaolin monks used one hand for greetings.

This tradition honored Hui-ke, Shaolin’s famed one-armed disciple.

On a snowy day long ago, Hui-ke sought his master’s teachings but was repeatedly denied. In his determination, he cut off his arm, and his master was moved, eventually accepting him.

In honor of Hui-ke, Shaolin monks clasped one hand in respect.

Jo-hwi gave a slight, awkward smile.

“I come from the Namgung clan.”

The monk who’d addressed him was visibly surprised.

“Oh, a swordsman of the Namgung clan! Why do you wait here instead of ascending directly to the gate?”

Jo-hwi’s expression grew slightly bitter.

“These people arrived long before me. Each has their own reason for offering incense here, enduring the difficult climb. Even though I’m in a hurry, I can’t justify skipping ahead of those who have waited while hungry.”

“But still, as a nobleman from the Namgung clan…”

“Amitabha Buddha!”

A resonant voice, infused with Buddhist authority, interrupted them. Jo-hwi turned to look at the speaker.

“Greetings to Master Brahma!”

“Greetings to Master Brahma!”

The monks all bowed with one-handed greetings.

With a dignified nod, the venerable Master Brahma returned their salutes and looked steadily at Jo-hwi.

“Ho ho ho…”

Master Brahma was clearly moved by Jo-hwi’s words.

Jo-hwi’s response had a profound impact, resonating with the master as if Jo-hwi’s voice carried the compassion of the Buddha himself.

“Amitabha Buddha, what brings you to our temple, noble guest?”

The master’s smile was gentle and compassionate.

Jo-hwi returned the greeting with one hand and introduced himself.

“I am Jo-hwi, chairman of the Jo Trading Company.”

“Ah?”

Henan and Anhui were adjacent provinces, so in terms of all of Central Plains, they were practically neighbors.

Master Brahma, too, had long heard of the rising fame of the Jo Trading Company.

“Amitabha Buddha, so you’re the hero of the Jo Trading Company. Even I, an old monk, have admired your reputation. Welcome.”

“Thank you.”

While pressing his hands together in greeting, Master Brahma’s eyes shone with a curious glint.

Though Jo-hwi’s martial aura was clear, he couldn’t gauge the level of his skill.

“How peculiar…”

Every time he tried to raise his senses to read Jo-hwi’s level, the flow of his inner energy was disrupted.

It was as if he were facing the Grandmaster himself.

“Could it be…?”

Who was Grandmaster Gong-cheon, the abbot of Shaolin? His level of martial prowess neared the Seven Sages, a grandmaster of his sect.

The young man before him, who didn’t even look thirty, surely couldn’t have reached that level.

‘How odd.’

Jo-hwi, for his part, was equally puzzled.

Why was this monk, whom he’d just met, trying so blatantly to probe him with his martial aura?

Of course, Jo-hwi had scattered all the monk’s attempts with a thought, but this monk simply wouldn’t give up.

With a hint of irritation, Jo-hwi spoke up.

“Master, what are you doing?”

“Amitabha Buddha, it’s nothing at all.”

How shameless this monk was.

After clearly trying to investigate him, he now just blurted out “Amitabha” as if nothing had happened.

“Amitabha Buddha, pardon my rudeness. I’ll take my leave now… hngh!”

Suddenly, Master Brahma stepped back, trembling as if his whole body had turned to jelly.

His horrified gaze was fixed on Jo-hwi’s neck.

“T-that, that accursed artifact…!”

Master Brahma was frozen, having even dropped his Buddhist scepter.

Jo-hwi took out the jade necklace around his neck and tilted his head in curiosity.

“Do you know this?”