At the monk’s words, Tenzin quietly added an explanation beside me.
“He is nearly a hundred years old...”
“Ah, is that so?”
Well, if they truly believe I’m the reincarnation of the Heavenly Master, wouldn’t it be customary for him to come out and greet me in person?
He is, after all, the highest figure in this religion.
I had wondered why I’d come all this way and not even caught a glimpse of him, but it seemed that due to his advanced age, he had trouble moving around.
Still, if that’s the case, it’s only right that I be understanding. I nodded in acknowledgment—then the thought hit me.
Could it be that they’re placing unwavering belief in me being the Heavenly Master without even verifying it?
‘No, looking at how things are unfolding... aren’t they just completely convinced I’m the Heavenly Master?’
The most revered figure in Podarlap Palace had sent word apologizing for not being able to greet me, and the surrounding monks were practically treating me like the confirmed incarnation.
‘Wouldn’t they be deeply disappointed if I told them I wasn’t?’
That uneasy thought settled over me—the feeling that if I denied being the Heavenly Master, it would genuinely crush them.
Just as I was uncomfortably preparing to follow Tenzin, the monk who had gone inside to send word returned with an apologetic expression and said,
“Um... please, leave your companions behind and enter alone, Heavenly Master.”
I looked over at Ji-ryong, who nodded at me.
This was something we’d already anticipated.
They wanted to meet me, not anyone else.
It made sense they would request a private audience—and so they did.
Still, I felt uneasy leaving all the children behind, so I asked cautiously,
“Do I need to leave the children behind as well?”
The monk and Tenzin exchanged a glance, and then Tenzin said gently,
“Heavenly Master, would you consider leaving the older children behind?”
Indeed, seeing the narrow corridor through the open doorway, it was clear that I wouldn’t be able to bring along children like Hwanji and Hwana. I nodded in understanding.
“Ah, that makes sense. Then shall I just take Cheong-yu, Hyang, and Hongdan with me?”
—Sia. 『Understood, Master So-ryong.』
—Tsrururu. 『Yay! Hyang gets to go too!』
—Kiiik.
Cheong-yu wasn’t a Nāga King for nothing—she was essential to explain things and to protect me. And Hongdan, being useful for offense, rounded out a solid trio, didn’t she?
Just as I was about to set off with Hyang, Hongdan, and Cheong-yu to meet the Dalai Lama, I heard Hwa-eun’s voice.
『Be careful, So-ryong.』
“I will, Hwa-eun.”
Though I had my “children” with me, I was still going in alone, and it was clear she was worried.
I replied to her concern and stepped into the corridor.
Once inside, the first thing that caught my eye were the golden cylinders lining both sides of the corridor.
As Dorje spun one of them and walked forward, I asked what it was.
“What are these?”
“Ah, these are called manichas. Inside are sacred scriptures.”
“Why do you spin them?”
“Spinning a manicha is said to bring the same merit as reciting the entire scripture within.”
“Ah, I see.”
So this place really was founded by people who carried the essence of Buddhism from its origin.
It struck me as a brilliant idea.
Religion, after all, should be accessible—anyone should be able to join easily.
But Central Plains Buddhism had a very low barrier to entry, honestly.
Temples were usually located in mountains, and even if someone wanted to study Buddhism, it required reading difficult sutras and studying for long periods.
That was fine for monks who made it their vocation, but for ordinary people, it could be exhausting.
But if spinning a cylinder like this counted as reading a whole scripture? What a sweet deal.
‘No wonder the birthplace of Buddhism is built different.’
As I thought about how this was truly on another level, I spun one myself. Hyang and Cheong-yu, finding it amusing, began spinning them alongside me.
—Tsrururu. (Dad, why are we spinning this?)
“Oh, it makes you smarter if you spin it.”
—Tsrut? (Really? Like Gungbong when Soto was inside him? Then I’m spinning too!)
—Sia. (I want to spin too.)
Clack, clack.
Behind us, the golden cylinders spun as we passed.
Dorje, watching, smiled with satisfaction.
“Heh heh. As expected of the protector of Buddhist law, the Nāga King. And even the Heavenly Master’s centipede spins the manicha. Truly...”
Still thoroughly misunderstood.
I figured this misunderstanding would clear up soon enough and followed him down the corridor until we arrived at a certain place.
At the entrance, monks opened a door, revealing a vast chamber.
—Creeeeak.
Inside were countless embroidered thangkas decorating the walls, and rows of Buddha statues lined up along one side.
It looked like some kind of great hall.
As I scanned the interior, a shaft of light streamed in from somewhere, illuminating a single spot in front of the statues—where an old man sat with his eyes closed.
He wore robes similar to Dorje’s, and the aura he gave off was almost statue-like.
If there were such a thing as a living Buddha, wouldn’t he look like this?
Smoke from the incense burners swirled around him and rose upward.
I stood still for a moment, captivated by the dignity of the scene. Then Dorje’s voice came from beside me.
“Please, enter, Heavenly Master.”
“Ah, of course.”
Regaining my senses, I stepped through the doorway with Cheong-yu, Hongdan, and Hyang.
—Creak. Thud.
When I looked back, the door had shut behind us.
Dorje had not followed us in. The door remained closed.
Only we had entered.
“Uh... Dorje?”
It seemed like the Dalai Lama wished to meet with just us.
Honestly, I felt a little flustered.
Shouldn’t someone I know introduce me, at least?
But he just left us.
Now that I thought about it, I didn’t even know if the Dalai Lama could speak the Central Plains language, which made me more anxious.
‘Wait—shouldn’t he at least introduce me before leaving...? And does he even speak Central Plains?’
With a slight hesitation, I stepped forward, leading the children toward the seated old man.
I couldn’t just stand there forever, after all.
When I got close enough, I spoke in a cautious voice.
“Ahem. It’s... it’s an honor to meet you. I am So-ryong, son of the Beast Palace and son-in-law of the Sacheon Tang Clan.”
The hall was spacious, so even though I spoke softly, my voice echoed through the space.
Just as the echo faded, the old man's eyes opened.
He remained seated, only shifting his gaze to look at me.
Those eyes... I had looked into many people’s eyes in my life, but I had never seen eyes like his.
He was looking at me, yet it didn’t feel like he was seeing me—rather, it was as if he was looking into something far deeper.
Then, still seated, the old man spoke quietly.
“I am this generation’s Dalai Lama, Sawang Gacho. I apologize for being able to receive you only in this manner, due to the state of my body.”
He appeared to be struggling to even stand, and he waved both hands gently as he spoke.
“There is no need to apologize. Please speak comfortably. I think there’s been some misunderstanding—I am not the person the people of Podarlap Palace believe me to be.”
They say to strike while the iron is hot, so I came right out and told him that I was not the Heavenly Master.
The old man listened, then smiled faintly, a smile I couldn’t quite read.
“Is that so?”
His reaction didn’t quite sit right with me. Unsure whether he believed me or not, I added an explanation.
“Yes, this is Cheong-yu. She’s not a Nāga King or anything like that, ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) but rather one of the Ten Great Venomous Creatures of the Central Plains, known as the Golden-Crowned Serpent King.
This one here is my daughter, Hyang, whom I raised, and this is Hongdan. I’m just a regular person who happens to love raising such spiritual creatures.”
“I see.”
What the hell was that supposed to mean?
With a smile, he kept saying “Is that so?” and “I see,” and I didn’t know how to respond anymore.
But then he said something unexpected.
“I understand. I shall instruct the others to ensure you are not lacking in any comfort during your stay.”
“Ah—yes. Thank you.”
After saying that, he slowly lifted his hand and made a motion as if tugging on something.
Only then did I notice a single thread hanging from the ceiling. When he moved it, a soft ringing sound echoed.
—Ding-ling.
At the sound, the door behind us reopened, and Dorje stepped back inside.
“Have you spoken?”
“Yes, make sure he lacks for nothing during his rest.”
“As you command, Dalai Lama.”
Wait—was that really it?
We hadn’t even spoken properly about the confirmation process, and the whole encounter had already ended. I was completely thrown off.
We were supposed to discuss the confirmation and the dried-up tree, after all.
I quickly called out to Hwa-eun in my mind.
『Hwa-eun?』
“Yes, So-ryong? What’s wrong?”
I gave her a brief rundown of what had just happened and asked her to consult Ji-ryong.
『Could you ask Ji-ryong? I barely exchanged any words with the Dalai Lama, and now they’re telling me to just go rest. There was no mention of the confirmation process.』
“Got it. One moment.”
While waiting for her response, Dorje, who had turned to guide me out, noticed I had stopped walking. He asked gently,
“Is there something more you’d like to say?”
At that very moment, Hwa-eun replied.
『Ji-ryong says the confirmation process may take some time, so don’t worry too much. You can’t just walk in and start with that kind of thing, right?』
“Oh, I see. Got it.”
Thinking about it, that made sense.
No matter how urgent things were, it would be rude to immediately demand a confirmation process from someone who had spent days traveling to get here.
Finishing my telepathic conversation with Hwa-eun, I quickly responded to Dorje.
“No, nothing.”
And with that, I followed Dorje out of the chamber. The door behind us closed with a loud thud.
It truly was a baffling encounter.
‘Seriously... it felt like I was in the middle of a Zen kōan.’
A kōan—those riddle-like exchanges monks use in their pursuit of enlightenment. That’s what it felt like.
When I turned back, the faint scent of incense was still wafting out from behind the now-shut door.
‘What the hell was that?’
***
“This is strange.”
Ji-ryong scratched his head awkwardly under my sharp gaze.
Two days had already passed since we arrived at Podarlap Palace, yet the confirmation process Ji-ryong had anticipated had not occurred.
So I was asking if perhaps his prediction had been wrong.
“Maybe they just assumed I wasn’t him?”
“No, that can’t be. Everyone’s still calling you ‘Heavenly Master,’ aren’t they?”
“Well, yeah, but...”
Indeed, the people of Podarlap Palace still seemed to believe I was the Heavenly Master.
They hadn’t stopped using the title.
“Then why hasn’t the confirmation process been mentioned at all?”
“Perhaps they intend to let you rest for about three days first? It’s only been two, hasn’t it?”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. So let’s take it easy.”
“Should I...?”
“Yes, So-ryong. Let’s just relax a bit. This place puts your body and mind at ease, doesn’t it?”
Life inside Podarlap Palace was reminiscent of a temple stay from my past life—eating, sleeping, and finding peace of mind within the temple.
Others were saying it helped their mental and physical fatigue melt away, but I was the only one feeling restless.
Because I was dying to see the dried-up tree and its fruit.
But if waiting was the only choice, then what else could I do?
Even if I was burning with impatience, I’d just have to bear it.
“Alright, understood.”
And so, three days later...
I had waited five days in total, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I summoned Dorje.
Any longer, and I felt like I would dry up before that tree did.
A spirit creature might be right in front of me, and I hadn’t even confirmed it.
“You called for me, Heavenly Master?”
“Yes. I had something to speak to you about—privately.”
“Ah, as it happens, I also had something to discuss with you. Shall we move to another place?”
“Certainly.”
Gasp! Could it be... now?!
Dorje said he had something to talk about too, and my heart started pounding.
He led me somewhere I had never been before—not even during the tour of the palace grounds he had given me the other day.
“Let’s speak here.”
It was a large open space like an inner courtyard within a grand building. Though the roof covered it, bright light streamed in from open windows on all four sides.
“What is this place?”
“I wanted to show you that.”
As he stepped aside, I saw it.
A large, withered tree... and two round fruits still hanging from its branches.
KYAAA!
The dead tree and the fruit.
It seemed they weren’t going to bother with a confirmation process—they were just going to show me directly.
