Chapter 350: Until The Mad Wind Army Arrives (2)
The seven-year-old girl sobbed loudly in Yi-gang’s arms.
One moment she was energetically running around, the next she burst into tears—just like any child her age.
What was unusual, however, was that even the village chief was heaving and wailing as though he might vomit up his guts.
Yi-gang couldn’t bear to hear the explanation on the spot.
He brought the Rangachen village chief and Tsering into Potala Palace.
Though it was a dangerous time, the lamas did not turn them away.
Only after sipping warm tea and wrapping himself in a blanket did the village chief begin to speak.
“Could you take Tsering out for a moment…”
Just then, the Twin Wise Lamas, who had come out of curiosity to see what was happening, each took one of Tsering’s hands and led her out of the room.
“Well… it’s the bandits, you see.” The village chief was never much of a talker, and with the exhaustion of the journey and mental shock, he rambled incoherently.
Yi-gang exercised patience and managed to piece together the story.
The village chief had only visited a nearby village by chance.
The village he visited had already armed themselves with spears and farming tools, preparing to resist the bandits.
It seemed they had heard rumors about the bandit horde advancing from the north.
Bandit raids on villages weren’t uncommon, but their reaction this time was unusually fierce.
On the way back, the village chief climbed a high mountain and looked down at the village.
Since the bandits had been invading villages one after another from the north, the next target was bound to be Rangachen Village.
However, contrary to expectations that the bandits would number only a few dozen, what appeared—shaking the very earth—was an army of a thousand.
Even the villagers who had prepared themselves with pitchforks seemed unable to fathom that it would be anything on this scale.
The village was, quite literally, annihilated.
The bandits slaughtered and looted indiscriminately—men, women, and children alike—and then sat to rest upon the smoldering ruins they themselves had set ablaze.
Had it ended there, the village chief wouldn’t have been trembling so violently.
“The bandit scum gathered the corpses and then…”
A monster devoured them.
Yi-gang questioned him closely about what kind of monster it was, but the village chief rambled incoherently.
His description was so contradictory that it was impossible to determine what kind of creature it might have been. Clearly, the mental trauma had been severe.
“Why did you only bring Tsering?”
“I thought… we could catch up to them.”
He must have assumed so because Yi-gang’s group included the sickly monk.
But Gal Dong-tak had either carried the Divine Monk on his back or mounted him on a horse, spurring the group forward at full speed.
“Hmm.”
Yi-gang realized the poor old man’s intention.
Since he had shown affection for the young Tsering, he had likely brought her along to appeal to Yi-gang for help.
To ask those monster-like experts who had captured the White Dragon to save the village—or at least protect himself and his family.
“But then… smoke started rising.”
However, that was a few days after they had set out.
When he turned his head, black smoke was billowing from the direction of the village.
The village chief said he stood frozen like a stone statue on the spot for a long time.
It was too late to catch up to Yi-gang, and he was too afraid of death to return to the village.
After much deliberation, he finally arrived here—at Potala Palace, Yi-gang’s destination.
“…I’m sorry.”
That was all Yi-gang could say.
Rangachen Village must have been completely reduced to ashes.
But an even more tragic matter remained for the village chief and Tsering.
“The bandits are headed straight for this place—Potala Palace.”
“W-what did you say?!”
Now that he thought about it, the number and strength of the bandits were far too great just to pillage villages.
The reason the Mad Wind Army was heading south… was because of Potala Palace.
Most likely, they would arrive here in about ten days.
Realizing he had fled the tiger only to leap into its jaws, the village chief broke down in tears.
Yi-gang waited patiently until he calmed down.
“Will you go east, to the Central Plains? If you want to survive, that might be best.”
Staying here, in this dangerous place, might not be wise.
But the village chief thought for a moment before politely refusing.
“For an old man like me and a little girl to take on such a harsh journey… If you permit it, we would rather stay here.”
He meant it literally.
Just the journey from the familiar highlands to Potala Palace had left them completely exhausted.
The path to the Central Plains would be even longer and more treacherous.
“And more than anything… I must go back. To the village…”
To collect the bodies, and to search for any villagers who might still be alive.
The village chief couldn’t finish his sentence.
Yi-gang respected his decision.
“I’ll help make arrangements so you can stay here.”
“Thank you…”
Leaving the village chief, who was once again shedding silent tears, Yi-gang stood up.
「You’ve wasted too much time away from training. Return,」 Bodhidharma spoke with cold clarity.
Yi-gang had rushed out in the middle of training upon seeing Tsering and the village chief.
Yet he didn’t think Bodhidharma’s attitude was unkind.
There was no time to cry with them or wipe away their tears.
Instead, he had no choice but to grow even a little stronger during that time.
Yi-gang had barely ten days left.
“You don’t look well,” the Divine Monk said upon Yi-gang’s return.
Yi-gang touched his own face.
Unusually, a mirror made of crystal had been set up along one wall of the training hall.
“Did something happen?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Heh heh, alright.”
The Divine Monk didn’t press further.
Yi-gang didn’t bother to explain either.
“They’re called Xisui Yijin Jing—the combined practice of bone washing and tendon transformation. I’m sorry to say, but in truth, there are few monks in Shaolin who study it deeply. I myself haven’t mastered it fully,” the Divine Monk explained as he sat on a chair.
This training hall had been specially lent to Yi-gang by the Dalai Lama.
When Yi-gang said he wished to study Xisui Yijin Jing—the Marrow Cleansing Tendon Changing Sutra, the Dalai Lama had expressed a desire to observe him personally. Though, for some reason, he hadn’t been able to.
“Why is that?”
Until now, he had been preparing his body to study the Marrow Cleansing Sutra and Tendon Changing Sutra.
The Divine Monk coughed with some phlegm caught in his throat, then replied, “There’s this notion that it’s outdated and rigid.”
As he spoke, he glanced sideways at Bodhidharma, who was coiled like a serpent around Yi-gang’s arm.
“Also, the original copy of the Marrow Cleansing Sutra has been lost. Only the Tendon Changing Sutra remains intact.”
When Yi-gang mentioned the Marrow Cleansing Tendon Changing Sutra he saw at the Imperial Archives, the Divine Monk cleared his throat again.
“That one… actually isn’t the real Marrow Cleansing Tendon Changing Sutra.”
“During the Tang Dynasty, the emperor requested the Marrow Cleansing Tendon Changing Sutra, so they submitted a health regimen under that name.”
“The abbot at the time must’ve been quite clever.”
To deceive an emperor—now that took courage.
Despite Bodhidharma’s presence in the room, the Divine Monk continued his explanation, “Do you know what Yijin means?”
“It means to change one’s muscles and bones, doesn’t it?”
“Exactly. Among martial practices, it’s a dynamic Qigong method involving movement while cultivating energy. The more you train, the stronger your tendons and joints become.”
Therefore, Tendon Changing Sutra was a martial scripture that cultivated both internal and external power—much like the Tae-eumgyeong.
The older the martial art, the more often it had such dual-natured methods.
“However, when it comes to softening and strengthening the musculoskeletal system, Mireuk Yugagong is superior, and for building pure internal energy, Prajna True Qi is better.”
But catching two rabbits at once was never easy.
The Tendon Changing Sutra was the same. For a martial art said to be created by the legendary Bodhidharma, it was surprisingly ordinary.
“First Founder, may I ask why you created the Tendon Changing Sutra?” the Divine Monk asked Bodhidharma.
Bodhidharma replied, “The physical condition of the monks was not ideal. Their backs and necks were hunched, and their limbs thin—it was not suitable for spiritual practice. That is why I created a martial method to train the body.”
That was the origin of the Tendon Changing Sutra.
It was originally devised to improve the health of frail monks.
“Of course, since it was created by the First Founder Bodhidharma himself, it’s said that just diligently practicing Tendon Changing Sutra can eventually lead to becoming a Supreme Peak or even Absolute master.”
“That is true.”
Bodhidharma affirmed his words.
However, the high monks who became top-class masters by practicing Tendon Changing Sutra alone only reached that level after turning seventy.
The only one who ever reached the realm of an absolute master did so at the age of one hundred, and passed away three years later of natural causes.
As things stood, it didn’t seem like Yi-gang had much reason to learn the Tendon Changing Sutra.
“Then what about the Marrow Cleansing Sutra? Do you know what Xisui means?”
“It means… to cleanse the bone marrow, doesn’t it?”
It had a more mysterious resonance than the Tendon Changing Sutra.
Transforming muscles and bones was something that occurred naturally through martial arts training.
But how could one possibly cleanse the marrow within the body?
You couldn’t tear through flesh and split bone just to wash the marrow inside with water.
The Divine Monk once again questioned Bodhidharma, “What was the reason you created the Marrow Cleansing Sutra?”
“There were exceptionally gifted warrior monks who made the request.”
Bodhidharma gave an entirely different answer than before.
“They wanted a body that could face the great army of Emperor Wu of Liang alone, tear through the flesh of yokai, deflect arrows, and remain unburned by fire.”
A brief silence lingered.
“I washed their bone marrow. Purged them of impurities, changed their muscles and bones with the Tendon Changing Sutra. I performed Fangu Xisui and Baopi Famao on them.”
Fangu Xisui—Changing the bones and cleansing the marrow.
Baopi Famao—Peeling away skin and shaving off body hair.
There are synonymous expressions for these terms.
“The purpose of the Marrow Cleansing Tendon Changing Sutra is ultimately body transformation.”
The secret behind the body transformation—the complete physical transformation Bodhidharma had promised Yi-gang—was held within the Marrow Cleansing Tendon Changing Sutra.
“Prepare yourself.”
Yi-gang took off his upper garment.
His back, now somewhat muscular, was covered in scars.
Bodhidharma soon shifted his form.
Now in a human body, Bodhidharma stood and pointed to one side.
There was a large basin filled with water in that spot.
The water, brought in after breaking through the lake ice, was cold as an ice slab.
As Yi-gang dipped his leg into the water with actual ice chunks floating in it, it felt as though his skin might tear.
But Yi-gang didn’t even blink.
If he were to flinch at something like this, he wouldn’t be able to endure the training of the Marrow Cleansing Sutra.
“Apply the fragrant oil.”
Yi-gang did as instructed.
He soaked a dry towel with the fragrant oil he had asked the monks to prepare and applied it to his left arm.
“Begin circulating the Marrow Cleansing Sutra.”
He had already activated his tendons and bones using the Tendon Changing Sutra, so now he began reciting the Marrow Cleansing Sutra.
Surprisingly, the original text of the Marrow Cleansing Sutra was in Tianzhu.
Since Bodhidharma was a man from Kanchipuram, it was only natural.
The Tianzhu words flowed from Yi-gang’s lips.
“Extend your arm.”
Without a word, Yi-gang raised his left arm.
Bodhidharma lifted his own hand.
He brought his index finger and thumb lightly together in front of his lips.
A gesture resembling the mudra of a Buddha statue—specifically, it looked like the Mudra of Dharma Wheel.
Then, like blowing away flower petals, ‘hoo,’ he exhaled a gust of wind.
What came from Bodhidharma’s mouth was a stream of flame.
Fwoooosh—
Crimson flames instantly engulfed Yi-gang’s left arm.
There was no way it wasn’t hot. Scorching heat radiated from it, and the skin on his left arm began to shrivel.
The searing pain caused Yi-gang’s lips to clamp shut.
“Do not stop the chanting—!” Bodhidharma roared like thunder.
The verses of the Marrow Cleansing Sutra once again flowed from Yi-gang’s lips.
The flame did not spread; it only burned his left arm.
Despite having half his body submerged in freezing water, cold sweat poured down his back.
Bodhidharma muttered to himself, “Hm, it’s your luck that I happened to acquire fire this time. Normally, this can only be done using a sacred flame purified by burning dried lotus petals.”
The fire burning Yi-gang’s left arm was clearly no ordinary flame.
A time too brief even for sipping tea—
And yet, for Yi-gang, it felt like an eternity had passed.
At last, the flame went out.
Yi-gang let out a harsh gasp and lowered his body into the water.
Chiiiii—
Because of his left arm, scorched like charcoal, the ice water evaporated on contact, releasing steam.
The pain was so intense that his head throbbed and burned.
“This is the first stage of the Marrow Cleansing Sutra. Through it, you will gain skin strong enough to endure body transformation.”
And this was just the first stage.
Not even the transformation itself—just the preparation for it. It was hard to believe.
Yi-gang carefully lifted his left arm.
Amazingly, it wasn’t a charred lump of coal—it was a perfectly intact forearm.
However, the skin was covered in grotesque, peeling husk.
As he peeled it off by hand, smooth, flawless skin was revealed underneath.
“First, we must replace all the skin on your body.”
This procedure had to be repeated across his entire body.
When Yi-gang didn’t respond, Bodhidharma asked, “Have you lost your nerve? Even among my disciples, eight or nine out of ten never completed the first stage.”
“Mm… then next is the right arm?”
“Correct. After the right arm, the legs, then the torso, and finally, the head.”
Yi-gang stood up once more.
“Please do it all at once—my entire body.”
Bodhidharma hesitated for a moment.
He didn’t mention that failure—or lack of mental fortitude—could drive one mad.
Even his most outstanding disciple, Huike, had been unable to suppress his screams during the first stage.
But Yi-gang hadn’t let out a single groan.
“Very well.”
Bodhidharma accepted Yi-gang’s request.