Chapter 52
Having emerged from his long meditation, Daoist Unseon looked like a bare, weathered tree branch—stripped down, fragile, enduring.
Daoist Hyehae carefully combed through his master’s tangled white hair, then softly said:
“I’ll go ahead and tie up your topknot now, Master.”
“Leave it.”
“...”
“I’m not just too old for a Daoist crown—I can barely manage a hairknot these days.”
“Master...”
“What’s there to mourn? The human form is something we all shed eventually.”
“...This disciple has cultivated the Dao for so long, and yet it seems I still haven’t shed my human attachments.”
“Don’t be impatient. The Way is already standing right outside your door.”
“Master... I am unworthy of such praise.”
“It isn’t praise. Not long ago, didn’t you tear away the net of ego you’d been tangled in?”