It is the regret you will come to have. (3)
“Master!”
Panchen Lama quickly followed Dalai Lama, who was walking far ahead.
No matter how fast Dalai Lama’s steps were, there was no way that Panchen Lama, who had mastered martial arts, would find it difficult to catch up. However, even after easily drawing near, Panchen Lama couldn’t readily open his mouth.
Because today, Dalai Lama, who walked straight ahead without turning his head even once, looked lonelier than ever.
Solitude and Dalai Lama? Could there be a word that suits him less?
Yet, in a way, it suited him perfectly.
The world desired the image of the Honored One [세존(世尊)* – sejon] as a grand figure bathed in gold, but wasn’t the actual appearance of the Honored One shriveled like an old, dried-up tree?
After watching Dalai Lama’s back for a moment, Panchen Lama parted his heavy lips.
“Where are you planning to go?”
“I’m returning to where I came from.”
“Right now?”
“I have finished what I needed to do. So, I shall return now.”
Dalai Lama’s voice was calm and serene as usual.
“…It’s too dark. Wouldn’t it be better to wait for dawn?”
Looking at the world filled with deep darkness, Panchen Lama expressed his concern.
“Your body has suffered a lot. Isn’t there no need to rush?”
“Just as the full moon eventually wanes and deep night brings dawn, there are times when waiting alone accomplishes nothing.”
“…”
“At those times, one must usher in the dawn that does not come.”
His voice remained gentle, but within it was a firm resolve that allowed no room for compromise.
Panchen Lama let out a deep sigh. If Dalai Lama had already made up his mind, he had no choice but to follow – even if it seemed reckless in Panchen Lama’s eyes.
Since the grand intentions of Dalai Lama were still invisible to someone like Panchen Lama, who was still walking the path of an ascetic [수행** – suhaeng], he could only ask instead of trying to understand.
“Then, have you achieved the purpose for which you came here?”
At that question, Dalai Lama, who had been walking indifferently, stopped for the first time.
Then he slowly turned his head towards the solitary tent crouching in the distance. From the tent, a small light was still faintly leaking out.
“I have conveyed what needed to be conveyed.”
“…”
“And I have also learned what I needed to know.”
“What… is it?”
Instead of answering, Dalai Lama shook his head.
“It is not something of your concern, Lama.”
Panchen Lama let out a low groan. In his sight, too, was the tent with the small, flickering light.
“Has something changed, as you wished, Master?”
Dalai Lama looked up absentmindedly at the sky filled with the stars and answered.
“Nothing has changed.”
Panchen Lama was quite taken aback.
“Master, then why did you come all this way? Was the reaction of that Hwasan’s Taoist different from what you expected?”
That, too, would be surprising. But Dalai Lama’s ensuing reply was even more astonishing.
“I knew.”
“…Pardon?”
“…”
“You mean… you already knew that nothing could be changed?”
Dalai Lama slowly nodded.
“Then why…”
As Panchen Lama trailed off in astonishment, Dalai Lama gently closed his eyes.
“Some call me a Living Buddha. Others call me a devil who confuses the world.”
“…”
“But I am merely a human.”
“Master…”
“Perhaps that’s why.”
From one of Dalai Lama’s closed eyes, a single transparent tear flowed down.
“Because I am a human who has not yet escaped the shackles of the seven emotions and the five human desires, I couldn’t just stand by and watch.”
Panchen Lama did not understand Dalai Lama’s words. He only felt a heavy sensation in a corner of his heart without knowing the cause.
“Even if it’s futile, even if it’s meaningless… crying out until the end, feeling sorrow and regret – that is what it means to be human.”
It was hard to comprehend. Dark clouds were gathering over the world. Panchen Lama knew at least this much for certain. Therefore, he thought that Dalai Lama’s journey to the Central Plains this time was also part of an effort to block the approaching storm.
But his Master had come all this way simply because he felt pity and sorrow for that one person?
Even for Panchen Lama, who revered Dalai Lama as his Master, this was not easy to accept.
“Master, weren’t you trying to stop that wrongful [부정한/unlawful, illegal, unjust, wrongful] individual? Weren’t you planning to gather the will of the Central Plains to confront him?”
Dalai Lama did not answer. As nothing was clear, frustration piled up within Panchen Lama, and before he knew it, he raised his voice.
“Don’t you know? He must have become even stronger. No, he will become even stronger. If we don’t prepare properly, this time for sure…”
“It’s not him.”
“…Pardon?”
Panchen Lama asked back with a puzzled expression.
“Existence stems from will. But sometimes, will arises because one exists.”
His speech was still full of words he was unable to understand. Dalai Lama did not explain the meaning of those words in detail to Panchen Lama. Perhaps he couldn’t explain it.
Dalai Lama looked once more at the tent.
Instead of looking at a distant place that those wandering in the sea of suffering wouldn’t see even if they lifted their heads, he looked at a close place within their reach.
“He has already chosen his own path. That path will not be shaken because of someone’s voice.”
“Is it wrong?”
Dalai Lama shook his head.
“It is absolutely right. But it is utterly devastating.”
“…”
“Because it’s a thorny path. It’s a path of suffering where one continuously carves an indelible mark into one’s own soul.”
“Suffering…”
“I can only hope.”
Now tears began to flow from both of Dalai Lama’s eyes.
“If ever… a time comes when he grows weary of suffering and wants to let go of everything, I can only hope and hope again that the earnestness contained within those clumsy words becomes a ray of light on his path.”
It was exceedingly vague, but somehow Panchen Lama felt he understood.
Dalai Lama is too great a being to be moved by mere personal emotions. Yet he is now speaking of personal feelings.
So these words should not be taken at face value. What Dalai Lama means is that the key to resolving the suffering that will befall the world depends on personal feelings.
‘But if that’s the case…’
Panchen Lama’s eyes wavered slightly.
‘Master, do you believe that Dojang will become the key to saving the world?’
That would explain this strange course of action.
But… isn’t the key far too small and insignificant compared to the magnitude of the impending catastrophe that will befall this world? Is this truly Dalai Lama’s intention?
Dalai Lama began to move forward again.
Watching his calm and unwavering back, Panchen Lama realized he would hear nothing more.
Even if Dalai Lama had done all he needed to do, there still remained mortal duties humans had to do.
“Then, Master, what should we do?”
At that moment, Dalai Lama turned to look back at Panchen Lama.
Panchen Lama couldn’t hide the sense of distance he suddenly felt. A gap that was immeasurable, a great distance between them.
Even so, he simply waited for an answer.
“Prepare for what is to come, and also, you must have faith.”
He immediately understood the need to prepare. From now on, what needed to be done was to brace for the impending catastrophe.
For them, for the world, and for all sentient beings in it.
But the latter words were not so easy to understand.
“You say we must have faith…?”
Dalai Lama’s deep gaze sank profoundly.
“Even if we are hurt by the world, shaken by relationships, and suffer betrayal, we must believe that humanity’s will ultimately does not yield.”
“Are you speaking of Chung Myung Dojang?”
Dalai Lama was silent for a moment. His gaze seemed to reach towards the distant sky, or perhaps beyond it.
“Yes. But perhaps also…”
His eyes were calm and deep like a lake.
“Perhaps it’s something that must be said to those whose will has lost its way.”
❀ ❀ ❀
Swish.
Ho Gamyeong lifted the draped curtain hanging at the entrance of the tent with one hand and frowned.
Despite being set up temporarily, the lavish interior of the tent was in shocking disarray. Liquor bottles were scattered everywhere, and the strong smell of alcohol and smoke from Dream-Soul Incense [몽혼향(夢魂香) – monghonhyang] filled the tent. The acrid smell made him cough, but just for a moment.
Of course, it was a familiar sight to Ho Gamyeong, but today it was excessive.
‘To this extent…’
So much of Dream-Soul Incense has been burned that he could hardly see ahead. Even Jang Ilso in Guizhou, who personified the term ‘debauchery,’ had never used this incense this excessively.
Moreover, the situation was even worse now. Was this not a battlefield where the enemy could attack at any moment?
Biting his lip briefly to suppress a sigh, Ho Gamyeong strode further inside. With every step, something bumped against his feet.
Because the tent was so huge, they had been able to create a space suitable to be called a bathing area, even if it couldn’t be called a room.
As he approached, he saw white steam billowing out. It wasn’t the Dream-Soul Incense. Ho Gamyeong gave a short cough and spoke.
“Ryeonju, I have a report.”
Although no reply came, Ho Gamyeong stubbornly fulfilled his duty.
“Haomun’s Munju who infiltrated the enemy camp encountered Maehwa… No, Hwasan Geomhyeop, and after a fierce battle, barely escaped and returned.”
Still, there was no reply.
“Although it was not sufficient, we succeeded in planting seeds of distrust among them. However, since we achieved almost none of our other objectives, I must conclude that overall, it was a failure.”
Ho Gamyeong stared intently ahead. There was no response from inside. He suddenly felt an urge to sweep aside the curtain before him.
“The strange thing is the content of Haomu’s Munju’s report… He said that Hwasan Geomhyeop Chung Myung, seems to have suffered serious internal injuries. If that’s true, now would be the perfect opportunity to tighten the noose around their necks. However, how much we can trust Munju’s words is…”
Ho Gamyeong trailed off, licking his lips.
His lips were dry, and his throat was parched. There was no need to explain how critical his report was. Yet, Jang Ilso showed no reaction.
“Ryeonju…”
Just as Ho Gamyeong could no longer hold back and was about to raise his voice.
Swish!
The curtain hanging like a door right in front of Ho Gamyeong was drawn aside, and white steam poured out like clouds.
“Hmm…”
And from within, Jang Ilso slowly revealed himself.
His long, wet hair hung down, and countless scars etched over the years covered his body.
“It must be true.”
“Ryeonju…”
Ho Gamyeong momentarily forgot what to say.
Contrary to his expectations, Jang Ilso appeared exceedingly calm. It wasn’t that he was languid from being intoxicated by the Dream-Soul Incense.
“You ask how much we can trust Dam Yeohae’s words…”
Step. Step.
Jang Ilso, with a long cloth wrapped around his lower body, walked out, passed by Ho Gamyeong, and picked up a large cup placed on the tea table.
“It doesn’t matter, Gamyeong-ah.”
“…Ryeonju?”
“Whether it’s true or not, whether he’s injured or not, none of that matters.”
Jang Ilso’s lips twisted. With a wicked smile spreading across his face, he gazed at the liquor cup. His face reflected in the smooth cup like in a mirror. He was smiling more confidently than anyone else.
“What’s important is not him but me, isn’t it?”
Jang Ilso waved his hand. The large tent flapped vigorously all at once, and the acrid smoke that had been filling the interior rushed out swiftly.
“Ryeonju…”
“I’m feeling very good. Strangely, it feels like my mind, which had been clouded until now, has finally cleared up.”
Ho Gamyeong shuddered briefly. Just by seeing that gaze and expression, he knew that what Jang Ilso had just said was not something made up merely to reassure him.
It was definitely different from before. As if the haze that had been enveloping Jang Ilso for a while had vanished, leaving everything terrifyingly clear.
“Ryeonju!”
Overwhelmed with emotion, Ho Gamyeong suddenly stepped towards Jang Ilso.
“There’s nothing good to be gained by dragging this out, is there?”
Jang Ilso emptied his drink in one gulp and threw the cup onto the floor.
Clang!
The bronze cup rolled around with a sharp sound.
“Before this feeling fades… let’s end this war. Now that all preparations are complete.”
Everything was clear. Even if, in the end, nothing remained.
If he couldn’t possess it in its entirety, he wouldn’t even give up the right to at least destroy it. That resolve remained unwavering in Jang Ilso’s eyes.
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*(honorific, Buddhism) Bhagavan; Lord; Honoured One (title of the Buddha).
**There was no hanja but I think it is 修行 – sādhanā (from Sanskrit) – asceticism, a spiritual practice or discipline leading to a goal.
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Return of the Mount Hua 
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