September 8th, White Dew

* * * *

September 8th, White Dew (Baekro).

The fifteenth solar term of the 24 solar terms.

With the heatwave and monsoon season over, the true beginning of autumn had arrived. As expected, when she opened the window, a cool breeze stung her nose slightly. Park Hye-yeon, who was sitting by the window where the school gate was clearly visible, sniffled at the chilly air.

Holding the edge of her cardigan between her fingers and pulling it down, she brought her wrists to rest on her desk. A cool breeze, like it had swept in the dew formed overnight, blew into her seat.

"It's cold."

It was cold.

Class 3-4 of Cheonghwa Arts High School sat near the school gate, with no buildings to block the wind. Wasn't it time to close the window? Park Hye-yeon rubbed her shivering arms and turned to look beside her.

Despite it being almost time for morning assembly, the classroom seats were still sparse.

Just two days ago on September 6th, during the mock exams, the room had been full… but it was already back to normal. As nearly a month had passed since the start of the second semester, it had become commonplace for students to skip school for entrance exam academies.

Park Hye-yeon's gaze shifted to one particular spot.

The opposite side of where she was sitting.

The seat by the hallway window, right in front of the back door.

It was Kang-seok's seat.

Though Kang-seok didn't attend any entrance exam academies, he had an important task: crafting a Buddha statue to submit to the World Buddhist Academic Conference. This was deemed sufficient reason for absence, and the school board had approved it as excused.

According to her mother, who had connections within the school board, Kang-seok had declared he wouldn't be applying to art college, so the board hoped he would at least elevate the school's prestige before graduation—hence the approval.

Park Hye-yeon stared coldly at the empty seat.

"Should I skip too?"

Even though her major was Western painting, she had already won silver at the Kanghui University art competition. She could easily get into Doseong University through early admissions.

Having little need for entrance exam academies, she only attended weekend classes. Still… seeing Kang-seok not coming to school made her oddly envious.

At that moment, the wind blew again.

And with it, the scent of autumn. That distinctive autumn smell—evocative of forest trees and freshly roasted coffee beans.

It reminded her of the scent of pencils freshly rolled in her hand. Sniffing the autumn morning air, Park Hye-yeon's eyes rolled toward the school gate.

From her spot in Class 3-4, the gate was clearly visible.

Cheonghwa Arts High School's gate, normally open to free entry, was tightly shut again today. Only the side gate remained open.

"Wasn't the back gate completely closed too?"

At any rate, the main gate was locked, and only the side gate slightly ajar. School board-hired security guards stood there inspecting vehicles and students like disciplinary officers.

It was a more closed-off sight than any other school.

Though it once felt strange and hard to adjust to, it now felt normal. The memory of the day the school gate was closed flickered in Park Hye-yeon's mind.

It was the first day of the semester.

— "Do you know a student named Kang-seok?"

— "Is anyone here in Class 3-4, majoring in sculpture, who can tell me about Kang-seok?"

— "You! You're a third-year art student, right?"

— "Can we speak with you for just a moment?"

Reporters with cameras slung around their necks trampled the threshold usually reserved for cars and school buses. They came chasing stories about the genius student, Kang-seok.

The school, enraged by their click-hungry frenzy, slammed the gates shut.

In retaliation, parents, responding to their children's frustrations, pulled all advertising from the newspaper where the most aggressive reporter worked. The reason given: reputational damage.

The reporters immediately scattered like smoke from fire, but the lost ads never returned—and the school gates remained closed.

"He really is something."

Park Hye-yeon rested her chin on her hand. The fact that it was Kang-seok who caused those strong gates to close felt astonishing all over again. He skipped school as he pleased, even shut the school gate—it was like he ran the whole school.

While she was thinking this, the classroom front door opened and three students entered. Jung Young-ho, Choi Isaac, and Joo Sol-chan—boys from the sculpture major in Class 3-4.

With their backpacks on, they'd probably just gotten off the school bus.

"You guys going to the bookstore today?"

"Of course. The second edition drops today. I'm buying four copies—one to keep, one to read, one for reference, and one to lend."

"I'm getting eight."

"Why so many?"

"I'll keep three and resell five once it's out of print."

"Not a good idea. Mr. Go Doo-han said the response has been so good they'll keep publishing it."

"Really?"

Joo Sol-chan, pulling out his textbook, fiddled with his locker that wouldn't close properly. When he saw the Buddha statue inside, he let out a small gasp.

Still sitting, he turned toward Jung Young-ho, who was locking his higher locker.

"You going today?"

"Obviously."

When Jung nodded, Sol-chan nodded too and got up from his seat.

"Then I'll go too."

"Weren't you not going?"

"Hey, give me a break—I've got a test at my academy today."

"Then I'll post a review for you. Don't go."

"What! I just said I'd go!"

Joo Sol-chan walked off, lightly pushing Young-ho. Meanwhile, Choi Isaac tilted his head as he pulled out his college prep workbook instead of a textbook.

"What are you guys talking about? What's today?"

"...You forgot? Today's the day."

"What day?"

"The Olympics. Today's the World Buddhist Academic Conference."

"Oh!"

The World Buddhist Academic Conference?

Park Hye-yeon, who had only been half-listening, widened her eyes. That's the event Kang-seok was making the Buddha statue for.

"Was that open to the public?"

She looked at them in surprise. She wasn't the only one.

Even the students who had been huddled in their own groups or pretending to sleep sat up straight, staring at Jung Young-ho and his group.

That was the level of interest in Kang-seok.

At least in the Cheonghwa Arts High School art department, Kang-seok was a world-class celebrity—a Billboard #1 artist, an international rock band on tour. It wasn't odd at all that even aloof Park Hye-yeon sprang to her feet like she was about to grab Jung by the collar.

"I'm going too!"

Her eyes sparkled. That moment sparked a chain reaction as the rest of Class 3-4 stood up one by one.

"Me too!"

"Count me in!"

"Can I come too?"

"...Huh?"

Jung Young-ho looked around, flustered.

Third-year high school students, just about a week before early admission submissions, with the national exam two months and a week away—

—and this was the moment when their passionate fandom for their classmate Kang-seok officially began.

* * * *

"(It's pretty cold today.)"

"(It really is.)"

Monks in robes, newly arrived in Korea, looked at each other and spoke in English. Their first impression of the country for the World Buddhist Academic Conference: the chill.

"(It said the weather would be cool and nice during the day… maybe we arrived too early.)"

"(It's all part of fate.)"

Wearing calm smiles, they began to appear around the airport. Airports are always places where people from all over the world gather, but today, there were especially many dressed in monks' robes.

Most of them had come to attend the World Buddhist Academic Conference, which was being held for the first time in several years.

Hotels in the capital region or nearby temples had offered to provide food and lodging in a templestay format, but Buddhist studies are originally pursued alongside ascetic practice. So, most monks and Buddhist scholars chose the path of hardship on their own.

And so, monks and scholars engaged in spiritual practice from 39 countries—including the Netherlands, Belgium, Sweden, Austria, Italy, Germany, Poland, France, Hungary, Spain, Switzerland, the UK, Norway, Slovenia, the Czech Republic, Mexico, Israel, Peru, Canada, Australia, the United States, New Zealand, Russia, China, Hong Kong, Macau, Taiwan, Japan, Vietnam, Thailand, Myanmar, Singapore, Sri Lanka, Nepal, India, Afghanistan, Bhutan, Cambodia, and Pakistan—had only just arrived at airports in Korea today.

Yet even so, the turnout was large.

Typically, between 500 and 1,000 people attended the World Buddhist Academic Conference, and around 490 papers would be presented—this was the usual scale.

"(But there seem to be quite a lot of attendees this time.)"

"(So it wasn't just me who thought that? Have more people come to hear the Buddha's words...?)"

Two monks waiting near the shuttle buses looked at each other, puzzled. It seemed there were easily more than 500 people here alone.

Since this conference was being held in Korea for the first time in a long while, expectations were that even just exceeding 500 participants would make it a successful event.

Just counting the number of people in monk robes waiting near the shuttle buses was enough to estimate over 200 already.

At this rate, when they arrived at the venue, it was clear that more than the average number of scholars would be crowding the place.

"(What in the world...)"

"(What could've happened...?)"

The two monks, who had been isolated from the world during the rainy season, looked around, dumbfounded.

Now that they looked closely, many of the monks—dressed in the robes that proved they had renounced the secular world—wore uncharacteristically excited or even frivolous expressions.

"We must bring back that statue, even if it means engraving Kang Seok's name on the temple's signboard."

"Yes, Chief Monk. But according to rumors, Bongeunsa Temple is also participating."

"Bongeunsa?"

"Yes. Chief Monk Beopgyeong of Bongeunsa is reportedly personally involved. I mean, not to be disrespectful, but Bongeunsa's lay followers are known for their generous offerings."

"Ahem."

People were all chatting in their native languages with those around them.

"(My lady told me to buy it no matter the cost.)"

"(Really?)"

"(Yes! She was so heartbroken the last time she missed out on a Ming Dynasty statue from someone in Hebei Province. This time, she told me to just name a price and secure it.)"

"(But my young master said he must have it too...)"

"(Didn't he already get a statue from Beijing last time?)"

It wasn't just monks. Clearly, they all understood what the word Buddha statue meant in Chinese. What on earth was going on here? The two Thai monks looked around in confusion.

And then, the shuttle bus carrying them departed.

Its destination: Seoul Campus of Korea University, where the World Buddhist Academic Conference was to be held.

Morning sunlight in full bloom, early dawn.

Countless monks disembarked from the shuttle buses.

Thai monks Ananda and Phandin were among the last to step off. Clad in orange robes, they looked around the Korea University campus.

It was as if they were in the middle of their own temple—monks were walking all around the university grounds. If all of these monks were attending the conference, it was certain this would be the largest World Buddhist Academic Conference in history.

Ananda turned to Phandin in awe.

Phandin, just as astonished, walked up to a monk wearing what looked like a Korean-style brown robe.

"May I ask you something? Are you a Korean monk?"

"Yes, I am. Please go ahead."

The monk responded warmly, despite Phandin's broken Korean. Phandin offered a respectful gesture of thanks and pointed at the crowd.

"All these people—are they going to the World Buddhist Conference?"

"Ah, yes. They are."

The Korean monk nodded. Then he chuckled softly.

"But also, not exactly."

"What do you mean?"

Phandin tilted his head.

The monk smiled and pointed toward the direction indicated by a sign.

"At the end of that path is the Gwanghwa Tathāgata Buddha (光華如來佛). Most of the monks are probably going to see that."

"Gwanghwa Tathāgata Buddha (光華如來佛)?"

Phandin repeated the words and looked at Ananda. After translating it into Thai for him, Ananda urged Phandin to hurry.

And so, for the first time in their lives as monks, they began walking quickly—almost at a jog.

When they arrived, countless monks were gathered, surrounding something as if they had reached a sacred site.

Namo Saddharma Puṇḍarīka Sūtra.(I take refuge in the Supreme Dharma of the Universe.)

Buddhist chants echoed from all directions.

It sounded like a song. Or like a grand ritual to honor the divine. Devotees from all over the world were offering prayers, hands pressed together in reverence.

Their robes were similar, yet each was a slightly different color and style—an awe-inspiring sight, as if the world had become one.

Though Ananda and Phandin didn't yet know what lay beyond the wall of monk robes, their hearts were already swelling with emotion.

Peace of the world was here.

But what could it be?

What was uniting all these people? What made this place feel like the center of the universe and of the world?

Curious, they stepped forward.

It looked like something orange.

With so many people in the way, they couldn't see from the foot of the stairs.

In front of the campus building.

It looked like a statue had been placed there.

Ananda and Phandin squeezed through the crowd to reach it.

And only then did they understand the words of the monk they'd met earlier.

Gwanghwa Tathāgata Buddha (光華如來佛).

A resplendent, radiant, and dazzlingly beautiful Tathāgata (a Buddha who has attained ultimate truth) stood there.

Truly, it was a statue worthy of its name.

As they looked upon the Buddha in the fearless mudra pose (Abhaya Mudra), they couldn't tell if they were standing before a lantern or the blazing sun.

And at that very moment—

Just as Ananda and Phandin were deeply moved—

A voice pierced their ears.

"Ten billion!"

Even overheard, the number made no sense.