I Was Michelangelo in My Past Life

Clear sky.

In the heart of the city with a 1,200-year-old history, the millennium-old temple Bongeunsa.

The youngest disciple of the chief monk's senior assistant Daehuh, the novice monk Hyechong, wearing only a gray robe, quickly crossed the Bongeunsa courtyard.

With his arms slightly spread, every time Hyechong hurried past, the monks inside Bongeunsa subtly lowered their heads. Hyechong moved forward like a woodpecker, nodding his head as if it would touch the ground.

After looking around like that for a while, Hyechong spotted a monk in the distance wearing a kasaya of a brownish hue over his robe. His mouth curved into a wide smile.

"Monk!"

Hyechong rubbed his shaved head with his palm and hopped up two stone steps at a time.

"Monk! Monk!"

At the shout getting closer, the monk who had been watching the drizzle of a sudden shower turned around. His face still bore wrinkles shaped like a traditional Hahoe mask smile.

It was Beopgyeong, the chief monk of the thousand-year-old temple Bongeunsa.

"Chief Monk!"

"Senior assistant (the chief disciple's chief disciple). What has you so excited to come running?"

"How could I be a senior assistant? Our master has many disciples!"

"Is that so?"

Seeing the gray robe near the shoulder dampened by rain, Beopgyeong's eyes folded as if he couldn't help but smile. He took out a handkerchief dyed with balsam flowers from his sleeve and gently pressed it to Hyechong's shoulder to soak up the moisture.

"Chief Monk, what were you looking at?"

"I was watching the courtyard. I was recalling the Buddha's birthday ceremony that took place two months ago."

"Ah!"

The Buddha's Birthday Ceremony.

Two months ago meant the birth celebration of Shakyamuni Buddha.

Hyechong smiled brightly, recalling that time. Beopgyeong nodded in agreement.

"The march you led, Hyechong, was truly splendid."

"Right?"

Hyechong nodded vigorously, clearly proud. His round, small head glistened with droplets like dew. Beopgyeong's handkerchief moved now toward Hyechong's head.

"So, what brings you to see me, Hyechong?"

"Oh! Our master said there is something to explain about the upcoming World Buddhist Academic Conference, so he sent me to find you, chief monk. That's why I was looking for you around Bongeunsa!"

"Good job."

Hyechong tilted his round head from side to side and looked at Beopgyeong. He spoke with confidence beyond his age of not yet seven.

Beopgyeong looked at Hyechong's knowledgeable chatter with affection as he tucked the handkerchief back into his sleeve.

"The senior assistant wants to see me? I guess I should go."

"Our master said it's about some Buddha statue issue. From what I heard, the promotion Buddha statue is to be made by the Buddha Statue Making Club from Cheonghwa Arts High School, but the task—"

"The task?"

"Yes! The task! They said the task was entrusted to an external member named Kang Seok. They want to know if it's okay to handle it that way, so they asked me to check with you."

"I see."

Beopgyeong, who had folded his eyes like a Hahoe mask, hid a sigh. The next chief, Daehuh, was surprisingly indecisive and timid for a monk with such a Dharma name. He fussed over even small matters as if they were major crises. What to do with that, Beopgyeong felt sorry and took a step forward.

"By the way, Cheonghwa Arts High School… that name brings back memories."

"Do you have a personal connection?"

"Hmm. Long ago, I too had a master named Wolgok, a very wise teacher."

Wolgok was a monk who had been the chief monk long ago. Hyechong nodded, indicating he knew the name. Beopgyeong smiled, holding his robe over Hyechong's head as a makeshift umbrella.

"My master gave the name 'Cheonghwa' to that school. It's a small but meaningful connection."

"Oh!"

"Then let's go quickly. The senior assistant will be waiting."

"Yes! But, monk—"

"Yes, speak."

"The promotion Buddha statue… if the academic conference ends, will that statue belong to our Bongeunsa?"

"Hmm."

For the first time, Beopgyeong showed a troubled expression.

Bongeunsa, built in the middle of the Gangnam district, was a venerable temple. It would be regrettable to bring in a statue made entirely by the Cheonghwa Arts High School Buddha statue club, let alone one made by an unknown external member.

Beopgyeong gently patted Hyechong's head and said:

"Since the academic conference is held with the effort of many temples, shouldn't we also give other temples a chance?"

Moreover, it was unlikely that a statue made in a short period would fit well with Bongeunsa's colorful and elaborate atmosphere.

Besides, since it is a Buddha statue, even if donated, paying a proper price preserves the dignity of a great temple... Most monks wouldn't want to spend money on a statue made by high school students.

Therefore, the promotional Buddha statue made by the external member would likely be sold at a reasonable price to a smaller temple struggling with size, rather than being brought into Bongeunsa.

"So, it will be taken by another temple?"

"Most likely."

"How disappointing!"

Hyechong pouted.

Still not fully detached from worldly thoughts, Hyechong felt that bringing the statue to Bongeunsa was like winning.

Such strong greed—so different from Daehuh, who used to cry every day. That difference was also endearing, and Beopgyeong smiled fondly.

And to soothe the sulking Hyechong, he whispered:

"We don't take it because we don't need it. Don't be too upset. Our Bongeunsa already has many beautiful statues."

"Then, monk."

"Yes, speak."

"If the promotional Buddha statue, just hypothetically, is carved amazingly well—"

"Amazing well?"

"Yes! If it's made so well that it's a shame to give it away?"

A statue so well-made it would be hard to give away—Ha ha. Beopgyeong laughed. The greed forming at his eyes, folded like a Hahoe mask, showed his true feelings. The once clear sky was now covered by clouds, revealing the hidden heart of Daehuh, the timid next chief, who would probably be overwhelmed.

Beopgyeong, chief monk of Bongeunsa.

His temperament was more suited to a medieval Roman pope than the peaceful modern chief monk of Bongeunsa.

While Hyechong stared straight ahead, Beopgyeong quietly murmured:

"Then, we shall take it."

No matter the cost.

Yellow light flickered inside the gray clouds. Rumbling thunder—signaling a typhoon was coming.

In the mountains near Seoul.

A strange scenery shrouded in thick fog, seemingly cut off from the city, with a traditional Korean house standing prominently.

Members of the Buddha Statue Making Club, sitting on the floor and eating watermelon, stared straight ahead.

In the middle of the courtyard, cleared of stone debris and tidy, Kang Seok stood.

Kang Seok sat in an uncomfortable-looking chair in front of the stone he had chosen, drinking only grape soda. It had already been three days.

Twenty-eight broadcasting cameras on tripods surrounded Kang Seok and the stone, filming from every angle. Also for three days straight.

Jung Youngho looked down at his phone.

[Is this a new kind of "study with me"?]

[Sometimes the bug sounds are nice.]

[Is this live now?]

[Yes. But sometimes he disappears from the screen.]

[Meditating?]

[Boring. I'm leaving.]

That was the extent of recent chat.

The live viewership was 34.

[Watching for his face.]

Most were staying just to watch Kang Seok's face. Sitting and staring at the stone for three days straight. The live stream called [Kang Seok] had been running for three days.

Was it really right to entrust this to Kang Seok? Even my own faith in only following Kang Seok was starting to shake.

When Kang Seok said he would make a stone Buddha, and not the typical Korean granite but white marble usually used in China, everyone accepted it with a "well, okay."

'Are we making Shakyamuni Buddha, Medicine Buddha, Vairocana Buddha, Amitabha Buddha, or maybe Maitreya Bodhisattva, Avalokiteshvara, Manjushri, Samantabhadra, Mahasthamaprapta, or Ksitigarbha? Shouldn't that be decided?'

Three days had passed without deciding which Buddha statue to make. Was that even reasonable? Jung Youngho pressed the power button on his phone screen. The screen went off naturally, and his face reflected on the dark screen before it turned back on.

It was already July 25th.

Now, Jung Youngho and the club members were approaching the time to leave the mountain for their summer special lectures.

'I hope seeing something would at least ease my mind...'

Kang Seok just kept drinking grape soda without moving. Jung Youngho's wavering eyes glanced over Kang Seok's left hand.

Kang Seok, a left-hander, held nothing.

'We should at least do a sketch today... Should I just turn off the cameras and draw something myself? Is there anything I can help with? Was entrusting this suddenly too much?'

The guilt of being the club president weighed on his shoulders. Honestly, Jung Youngho had no right to complain about Kang Seok—he was the one who asked if they could send a freshman to the mural club. Jung Youngho lowered his head.

At that moment:

"How long does he plan to keep that up?"

"Right?"

Voices from the club members pierced the ears of Jung Young-ho, who hung his head. Most of them were thinking the same thing.

"Shouldn't we at least do a sketch?"

"I feel like I've forgotten how to carve a Buddha statue…"

"No way, that's not it. Then why is he just standing there like that? He must be about to ask us for help."

"He might be stiff because he's in front of the camera. And besides, why would he ask for help from us or that guy Kang-seok? Don't you know Kang-seok's pride is huge? He would never ask for help. Let's just quietly hand it over to him now."

"What are you so sure about?"

That was when.

Yang Seon-gu, who had been quiet the whole time, ran his fingers through his beard as if exasperated.

"You guys have never seen Seok-i carving before?"

"Huh?"

"Huh?"

"Have you not seen it?"

"N-no, we have."

They had seen it several times at Cheonghwa Arts High School.

The kids nodded to each other.

At those words, Yang Seon-gu raised his eyebrows as if it was even stranger.

"Then you should know."

"…Huh?"

"Why would Seok-i do a sketch?"

"Huh?"

"This is weird. You all act like you don't know."

Yang Seon-gu stroked his beard. His eyebrows furrowed into a triangle shape. So until now, he hadn't done it that way, but maybe he changed his style when he started carving . Yang Seon-gu licked his lips.

As he thought about it, it seemed to flicker at the corner of his eye.

He remembered Kang-seok, who walked like a bull charging and swung the grinder like a great sword.

Yang Seon-gu laughed lightly like a sage. Beyond his memory, staring at the square stone as if in a staring contest with Buddha, Yang Seon-gu said,

"Just wait and you'll know."

How extraordinarily unconventional a genius Kang-seok was.

Yang Seon-gu burst out laughing.

The moment Kang-seok moved the grinder he'd placed under the chair, the world would have no choice but to notice the genius it had been ignoring.

Of course.

.

.

.

In front of everyone watching,

Kang-seok looked at the white stone.

The white marble, with a subtle ratio between a perfect square and rectangle, was curled up, unable to reveal its true form in the gloomy weather.

Three days.

It was the third day.

'Who on earth are you?'

Kang-seok's eyes narrowed.

Beyond the white stone reflected on his retina, he tried to see the soul inside the marble. It wasn't that he couldn't see it. He could see it. Very clearly.

Too clearly, in fact.

Kang-seok closed his eyes as if tired. Over these three days, the soul inside the white stone had been changing shape every time the sandstorm blew.

Even at this moment, the 'Bokwan' (the coffin used by a Bodhisattva) was changing forms as if on fire. Then 'Yeongnak' (neck or arm ornaments) seemed to brush through the fog, placed here and there, then everything vanished, and the 'Cheonui' (a shawl-like robe worn by a Bodhisattva) fluttered like wings.

And whenever a form was about to take shape, the hems of the 'Gunui' (a skirt worn by a Bodhisattva) fluttered about.

He couldn't tell if this was Maitreya Bodhisattva, who was promised to attain Buddhahood in the future, Avalokiteshvara Bodhisattva symbolizing Buddha's compassion, Daeseji Bodhisattva with the power to erase all ignorance in sentient beings, Bohyeon Bodhisattva who extends the lifespan of sentient beings, Manjushri Bodhisattva of wisdom, or Jizo Bodhisattva who never attains Buddhahood to save suffering beings forever.

He had no idea.

After rubbing his tired eyes a few times, Kang-seok opened them again. His eyes, which had been glaring through the sandstorm, were long bloodshot.

But in a past life, Kang-seok had painted while enduring paint dripping into his eyes. This level of fatigue was nothing.

With a determination not to close his eyes until he saw clearly, Kang-seok forced his gaze open again. The sandstorm was blowing. Even the chirping of insects had stopped, clearly repelled by the extreme nature of the sand.

Sand.

The blowing wind.

Stinging eyes.

Gloomy weather.

Even though he was sitting quietly under an open sky, it felt as if he was in the shade, cool in temperature.

Smelling the scent of green, Kang-seok soaked it all into his retina with his bloodshot eyes.

It was at that moment.

Under the gray clouds blocking the sky, a tiny ray of sunlight landed. A thread of light thin as a needle. It slanted down and touched the white stone, and the stone seemed to catch fire as if the light was being transmitted.

It was like a lantern.

At that moment, Kang-seok's pupils dilated.

The reddish-brown eyes holding the white stone became murky and blurred.

'Alright, before you make the Buddha statue, I have a good saying from the Buddha's words to share.'

'Wooow!'

'I'm not interested in Buddhism, teacher!'

'Now, listen. Among the Buddha's words, there is a phrase called "Self-light, Dharma-light" (Jadeungmyeong Beopdeungmyeong, 自燈明 法燈明).'

Self-light, Dharma-light.

It was a phrase learned in the Buddha statue making club.

'You should take yourself as a lamp and rely on yourself. Also, take only the truth as a lamp and rely on the truth. You must not rely on anything else.'

Following the teacher's lips in his memory, Kang-seok's lips moved.

'You should take yourself as a lamp and rely on yourself. Also, take only the truth as a lamp and rely on the truth. You must not rely on anything else.'

It was a silent repetition.

The moment he repeated that phrase, he seemed to understand.

Inside the white stone,

The Buddha trapped in the stone faintly opened his eyes.

Kang-seok felt like he was meeting those eyes.

It's you.

It was you.

Kang-seok stood up from his chair. The grinder that had been placed under the chair was now in his hand. The stone was glowing and calling Kang-seok. Entranced by those eyes, Kang-seok approached.

"Whoa!"

"It's moving?"

"Wow! Finally!"

The kids finally stood up following the moving Kang-seok.

Ignoring them, Kang-seok walked slowly toward the stone. And like a seeker rescuing a being trapped in stone, Kang-seok moved the grinder with the eyes of a seeker.

His pupils held a faint gleam of madness.

Vvvvvvvvv!

The powered-on grinder touched the white stone.

As sparks flew and glass shattered, white stones crumbled and fell apart.

One week from the day Kang-seok's grinder spewed fire toward the white stone.

[Did you see that?]

[…Seems crazy.]

[He's a genius.]

[Crazy!]

[ㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠㅠ Where can I see it?]

[What is he making anyway?]

[Looks like a Buddha statue…]

[Don't know, whatever it is, it's like… he's gone mad. His eyes are wild. Once you look away, you want to see it again, can't stop watching.]

[Just stone mesmerization. Time flows as you watch.]

Ten days since Kang-seok started live streaming.

At the moment the live viewers approached 20,000.

[What's this?]

[Please explain what this is? Video?]

[So cute!!! >,<]

[????????]

The world started to pay attention to Kang-seok.

It was one month before the World Buddhist Academic Conference began.