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Chapter 1
Guannédo (present-day Shanxi Province).
Luo’an County.
One spring.
Jin Gahan came to Guangbul Temple with his wife and daughter.
After walking diligently, he stopped quietly before the mountain gate, waiting for his wife and only daughter, who had fallen behind.
Just then, a breeze swept down from the mountain and brushed past him.
Blue sky, white clouds, the mountain shining fresh with new leaves, and the solemn gate standing within—it all made him think anew, “It was good that I retired here.”
After passing the imperial exams, he had risen as high as Minister of Revenue, but when a close friend died suddenly, he felt the impermanence of life and laid everything down.
His clan had hoped he would rest for a while and then re-enter official service, but he had no such mind.
“How good this is!”
Though he had not voiced it aloud, recently Jin Gahan’s heart had been utterly captivated by a new-found pursuit—the Dao of the Immortals.
Some might ask, “If you wish to be an immortal, why go to a temple instead of a Daoist monastery?”
But that was the ignorance of those who did not know Guangbul Temple.
Guangbul Temple taught not only about Buddhas and Immortals, but even mysterious knowledge of the deities of the Western Regions.
“That Buddha, Immortal, and Western God are branches from the same root…”
Indeed, when one thought about it, it was only natural.
If such realms truly existed, how could the Buddha’s world, the Immortal’s world, and the God’s world exist separately?
The abbot of Guangbul Temple once explained Buddha, Immortal, and Western God with the metaphor of water:
“It is like water. When pushed to the extreme, water inevitably changes—frozen in winter as ice, boiled into steam rising to heaven. Though water, ice, and steam differ entirely in form and use, their origin is one. The enlightened Buddha is an Immortal, and an Immortal is but a child of God. Therefore, do not fret or quarrel over believing differently. There are many paths up the mountain; one need only think of reaching the peak.”
Jin Gahan nodded with a pleased face when his wife and daughter approached.
Standing in the sunlit place, he waited for them to catch their breath before striding into the gate.
Guangbul Temple.
Hall of Teachings.
That day, Abbot Mak Jung-an and Jin Gahan’s conversation grew long.
“…Immortal Lü Dongbin called the Dao ‘the way of spontaneity.’ The Dao is the nameless, formless nature of all, the original spirit that governs life. This unseen nature and spirit rely on the light of Heaven. When we circulate this heavenly light within our body, that becomes the Innate Great Primal Qi.”
The abbot even went so far as to explain the method of cultivating this Innate Great Primal Qi.
So engrossed was Jin Gahan that the lecture did not end until deep into the night.
Leaving the hall late, Jin Gahan walked briskly toward the guest quarters where his wife and daughter waited.
He was excited to try the new cultivation method at once—
but his heart dropped like a stone when he saw his wife’s face pale as a sheet.
“What happened? Where is Eunsŏl?”
“She went out to the privy, but it’s been over half an hour and she hasn’t returned.”
“Did you check the privy?”
“I checked them all. She wasn’t anywhere.”
“Oh no! What if a wild beast dragged her away?”
Jin Gahan rushed to the abbot and reported that his daughter had gone missing within Guangbul Temple.
Startled, the abbot sent disciples to search the entire temple grounds.
But before long, the commotion ended—
for Jin Eunsŏl was found asleep inside a firewood shed, not far from the guest quarters.
When disciples brought her back, Jin Gahan, who had been sick with worry, erupted in anger.
“You said you were going to the privy! How can a grown maiden sleep in a shed?”
“I don’t know. After meeting a porter… when I opened my eyes, I was in the shed.”
“A porter? Abbot, does Guangbul Temple employ a porter?”
The abbot thought a moment, then asked carefully,
“Lady Jin, did this porter perhaps have thick eyebrows and a slender face?”
“Yes, I think so.”
In her confusion, Jin Eunsŏl nodded.
The abbot turned to his disciples.
“That must be the porter surnamed Seok, from the lower village. He cannot have gone far. Go find him and bring him here!”
The abbot meant to question Seok about what had happened.
But though they searched not only near the temple but all neighboring towns, he was never found again.
Circumstances suggested that Seok had caused trouble and fled.
The abbot apologized profusely to the Jin family and ordered strict silence among the disciples.
Thanks to this effort, the secret was kept—
but Heaven’s law could not be overturned.
Though unmarried, Jin Eunsŏl’s belly swelled, and in the first month of the next year, she bore a son.
Jin Family Annex.
“Abubu… Mamama…”
The baby babbled, drawing Jin Eunsŏl’s gaze.
Looking at the small, fragile child, a sudden wave of affection stirred in her—
but it did not last.
Her gentle expression quickly hardened, turning cruel.
After giving birth, Jin Eunsŏl, once a cherished jewel of the family, had become its disgrace.
Exiled to the annex during her pregnancy, she remained imprisoned there even after childbirth.
Two years passed in this captivity.
To her, the child was nothing but a lifelong shackle, a curse.
Grinding her teeth, she clapped her hands over her ears to block his babbling.
When it did not stop, she screamed, “Stop it!” and clutched at his throat.
As the baby’s face turned pale, she finally released him, gasping for breath.
“Haah… Haah… Stop… please, just stop…”
That evening, a maid entered the annex to collect laundry.
But Jin Eunsŏl lay drained, staring blankly at the ceiling beside the baby.
The maid, arms full of diapers, glanced at the child—
and froze.
The baby’s neck was covered in nail marks.
The little one, who had been smiling to himself, stiffened like ice when their eyes met.
‘Tsk, tsk…’
Clicking her tongue inwardly, the maid quickly left, carefully closing the door.
She shook her head.
No bond could be more twisted.
The young lady had even taken harsh medicine to abort the child, but failed and delivered anyway.
Since then, she had been like this—
her mind wavering, the child barely surviving under her hand.
‘Heavens… someone’s going to die like this…’
Life, however, can be stubbornly tenacious.
Four years passed since the birth of the unwanted child.
His neck bore ugly scars of nails, yet he still lived.
For five years now, Jin Eunsŏl had lived in the annex like a convict, withering into little more than a walking corpse.
The annex was forbidden ground in the Jin household.
Its walls stood high, and its doors were always locked—except when servants went in and out.
Jin Family Main House.
On a summer night, Jin Gahan counted days at his desk and murmured,
“Already four years, is it?”
His wife, Shin Yewan, carefully replied,
“He’s about the age to run about now. Shouldn’t we at least give him a name?”
She did not say who.
For in the Jin family, the child of the annex was a shame by existence alone.
“…”
When her husband did not refute, she gained courage and pressed further.
“Perhaps loosen the lock on the annex as well. Eunsŏl isn’t truly a criminal…”
“Hmph! Can you say she is not?”
Jin Gahan, silent until now, flared up.
“It wasn’t her fault!”
“If your nose is cut while you watch, whose fault is it but yours?”
“Even the abbot said Seok seemed like some martial master in disguise.”
“That is the only reason I haven’t cut her off entirely. Otherwise, she would’ve been cast out long ago.”
Yet despite his harsh words, the next morning, the annex lock was removed.
But this proved a disaster.
The four-year-old boy of the annex, whom none cared about, vanished.
Jin Gahan and his wife realized only that afternoon.
But neither the grandparents nor his mother, Jin Eunsŏl, made any effort to search.
Early Summer.
Around 1 p.m., a mild-looking man in his early forties entered the marketplace.
He was Dan Bulwi, a steward of Amun—a human trafficking organization.
“Let’s see… any good goods to pick up today?”
He needed to.
If none, he would have to buy, but the situation was poor.
Perhaps because it was a year of abundance, no one was willing to sell, even when prices were raised.
As he scanned the bustling crowd, his eyes suddenly lit up.
A child, about three or four years old, stood at an alley corner, staring at the street vendors’ wares.
From the simple clothes, it did not seem like the offspring of a noble family.
Dan Bulwi quickly looked around. No adult accompanied the child.
‘Jackpot!’
Suppressing his glee, he casually approached.
“Well, well, whose child is this, so bright-eyed and clever? Hey, little one, how old are you?”
The child lowered his head and raised four tiny fingers.
“Four years, eh.”
Dan Bulwi’s eyes caught the boy’s neck.
The soft, downy skin was covered in scars—scratches, as though gouged by nails.
Even a chained dog wouldn’t look like that. What sort of madness was this?
“Where are your mama and papa?”
The boy flinched, shoulders shrinking.
Dan Bulwi stroked his small head kindly.
“Ah, how cruel of them. Where could they go, leaving such a young one alone? What’s your name, child?”
“…I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? That’s fine. You’ll learn such things in time. Let’s see—have you had lunch yet?”
“…No.”
“Oh dear, my boy hasn’t eaten yet? You must be starving. How about I buy you something delicious? Want to come?”
The boy lifted his head, eyes wide with shock.
Was there really such a gentle, kind person in the world?
His mother always cursed him, and if their eyes met, she beat him half to death…
Unconsciously, his hand went to his neck, feeling the rough scabs from her nails.
His heart pounded, ears ringing, unable to move.
As he hesitated, Dan Bulwi seized his hand.
“Uncle will buy you sweets over there. They’re so good you’d die fighting over them!”
The stranger had suddenly become Uncle.
When the boy did not resist, Dan Bulwi’s lips curled upward.
“So easy? Today must be my lucky day.”
Hand in hand with the boy, Dan Bulwi walked off with a spring in his step, light as air.
