Book 1 Chapter 3

Banished Axe Massacre

The master came out with a sharp axe.

Then he handed me an axe, telling me to chop firewood with it.

I accepted the axe nonchalantly, and then my shoulders slumped with a bang.

I almost fell. Because that damned axe was heavy as hell.

I asked the master how many pounds this axe weighs.

"I only weigh 100 pounds (60 kilograms)."

The master's answer was unremarkable. To me, however, it was a story of a thousand miles.

"Eh, 100 roots? What a bunch of axes! 100 roots is 1,600 liangs, 16,000 dollars, 160,000 pounds, and 1,600,000 riyals (one million six hundred thousand riyals). To put this in perspective, one root has 16 quantities, one quantity is 10 dollars, one dollar is 10 pennies, and one penny is 10 li. How am I supposed to lift a weight of one million six hundred thousand li, and that too with this frail body?"

I tried to make my pupils as moist as possible, trying to get his sympathy. But my efforts were fruitless.

"Son of a bitch, don't be a number. With hard work and grit, a man can do anything. Do you understand? Hard work and grit. What's more, this axe is no ordinary axe. It's a living legend!"

The words spewed from his mouth. There was a passion in it that could not be ignored. The look in his eyes was too serious to be a joke. It was unfortunate, however, that his saliva also contained a large amount of digestive enzymes. I demanded that he tell me about the legend right away. His story went like this

According to the story told at the main gate, this is a venerable axe with a sad and troubling legend. The still unnamed founder of the school was chopping wood one day by a pond called the Kumbu Pond when he accidentally dropped the axe into the pond.

As the monk was thinking, "How am I going to retrieve that axe?" suddenly, the middle of the lake boiled over, and a beautiful, gray-haired old man with the bones of a Zen master appeared out of nowhere with a dazzling, impudent light. This was the appearance of a divine-level adept. Standing on the surface of the water as if it were solid ground, the old man held a golden axe, a silver axe, and an iron axe in each hand.

The old man introduced himself to the troubled investigator as the mountain spirit that guards this place. Then he held out a gleaming golden axe,

"Is this your axe?"

", he blurted out. "No!" he said firmly. At least you're honest……. Then Xin Xin reached for the silver axe again,

"Is this your axe?"

and asked the same question. The Honorable Inquisitor again answered, "No!" Finally, the mountain spirit held out his rusty axe,

"Is this rusty old axe yours?"

Of course, the moment he said, "Yes, the axe is…….," the event happened. Suddenly, a small ripple on the surface of the water caused the mountain spirit to lose its balance and begin to flail about. With a snort, the mountain spirit quickly disappeared from the monk's view. What a disgrace! This was a major disgrace to the Mountain Spirit.

He took a few deep breaths to gather his wits, but suddenly the pond began to glow red. Sensing something was wrong with his superior animal senses, he jumped into the pond without hesitation. The axe was an important part of his livelihood.

The pond was much deeper and wider than expected. When the investigator dived down deep enough, he saw a small thatched hut at the bottom of the center of the pond. It was probably the home of the stupid mountain spirit from earlier. Slowly, he looked around the house and saw that the mountain spirit had been cut down in a large capital letter on the side of the thatch.

The red energy in question was emanating fiercely from the top of the mountain spirit's head, where the investigator's axe had been horribly embedded, and from which a fiery red energy was emanating. When the investigator looked at it, it seemed that the mountain spirit was no longer of this world.

"So, were the mountain spirits once people of this world?

I wondered about this for a moment, but the master did not care about these humble questions of mine, and the story continued. "The cause of Sanshin's death was probably due to overcapacity. The monk's iron axe was at least ten times heavier than the average axe used by ordinary people, so the weight was more than even the mountain spirit's spiritual power could support. Nevertheless, when he unwisely carried the heavy iron axe along with his gold and silver axes, he was unable to withstand the weight of the iron axe and sank into the water.

What happened next was even worse. As they were calmly sinking, an iron axe that was sinking with them unexpectedly struck the mountain spirit in the crown, sending it into the goal. This was called a 'safety accident,' the master said, adding a kindly quip. In any case, the monk took pity on the mountain spirit and buried it at the bottom of a clear and scenic lake.

After chanting the mantra "Namu Amitabha Buddha Kuan Yin Bodhisattva!" and invoking the paradisiacal rebirth of the mountain spirit, the monk entered the mountain spirit's house. To his surprise, there was no water in the house, and the air was rich. It seemed that the mountain spirit had done something to prevent water from entering the house. When he looked inside, he saw that in addition to the usual furniture, there were several more gold and silver axes.

The original monk was a good man who had no interest in riches. However, he acted as a local official who found a place for the mountain spirits, dug the grave, and buried them, so he also acted as a funeral director. As a bonus, he prayed for their rebirth in paradise, so he thought it was okay to accept a fee. He also thought that since the dead don't need riches, it would be good for the living spirits to take them out of the world and use them for the good of the world rather than letting them rot in this place. After this deep and careful thought, the monk brought out several gold and silver axes, along with an iron axe.

I asked him how he was able to retrieve so many axes from the depths of the Golden Lake that not even a mountain spirit could have fished them out. He replied that once he had mastered the upper levels of the Lightning Sword, he would naturally know. What a condescending answer. To solve this mystery, I would have to learn the higher levels of the Flying Sword.

In legend, the reason the monk used the abstract numerical representation of just a few gold axes and a few silver axes is that after acquiring the gold and silver axes, he evaded taxes by undercounting the number of axes when reporting his income to the government. There is also a story that the monk used the money from the sale of the gold and silver axes to build the present-day Thunder Gate.

Later, the investigator called the incident the "Geumbu Pond Axe Massacre" [金斧淵鐵斧蠻行事件]. After that incident, there were no more fish and water plants growing in Geumbu Pond, and there were ghosts roaming the pond at night shouting, "You thief, give me my things! " and ghosts roamed around the pond at night, so people came to call it Guiyeon (鬼淵: haunted pond).

When Sifu finished telling me the story, I didn't snort or sneer. The legend of Geum Bu Yeon was, as legends go, quite pretty and well organized. It's also funny and witty, which is unusual for a Han tradition (most Han traditions are serious and somewhat pretentious). But I was too afraid of my master's piercing gaze to fictionalize all of this, so I decided to remain silent. I was not a foolish fool, running my mouth without the ability to handle it.

Anyway, I ended up chopping firewood with a legendary axe with such a storied history. In order to lift this legendary axe, I had to train my arm strength for over a month, and it took me four months to be able to chop firewood in a straight line. It also took me a year to be able to chop firewood with a smooth motion, and after a year and a half, I was able to chop firewood naturally with the same speed and correct motion. I had to chop firewood with this legendary axe for almost a year and a half before I was able to chop firewood unaided.