Wudang Sacred Scriptures

Kwak Yeon stepped up to the center railing of the pavilion and looked out over Lake Dongjeong.

By now, the inside of the pavilion had grown so quiet that not even a breath could be heard.
No one understood what on earth had just happened.
At last, Kwak Yeon turned around and spoke.

“The reason I ascended Aknyang Pavilion today is to share with you all a song, performed by a musician and his granddaughter, a courtesan singer. I ask that none of you refuse and listen to it.”
The young martial heirs were simply dumbfounded. And yet, they were also relieved.
Because it meant that this martial master from Wudang had not come to stir up conflict.

“I ask only one thing: should anyone leave before it ends, I will take that as a dismissal of my goodwill.”
It was an arrogant statement. But no one could speak carelessly in response.
Not after they had just seen the Young Clan Lord of the Danmok Clan, Danmok Cheong, get wrecked.

There was no real reason they couldn’t sit through a single song.
While the heirs glanced at each other uncomfortably, Chwi Dugae was even more bewildered.
‘What the hell is that Cave Daoist doing now?’

He couldn’t make sense of Kwak Yeon’s actions at all.
“You, elder musician—please come forward with your granddaughter, the singer.”
Former Hao Clan Elder Jo Cheon-yang approached and stood beside Kwak Yeon, accompanied by Gwaa in her female guise.

“Elder musician, I ask you to begin the performance.”
Jo Cheon-yang loosened the geum and began to play. The mournful sounds of the zither echoed through the pavilion.
To the accompaniment of the geum, Gwaa began to sing with a clear, pure voice.

The lyrics told the story of a young martial man.
After completing his training, the young man emerged into the world with great ambition, only to be deceived by traitors and falsely accused as a demonic cultivator. He was hunted.
In an instant, Chwi Dugae realized—the song was telling the story of Yeong Ho-beom, a disciple of Baeksangmun in Shanxi, who had leapt off the cliff beneath Hyeopmungok.
‘Then this is…!’

Chwi Dugae immediately grasped Kwak Yeon’s intent.
The song continued, recounting the tale of those who conspired to kill the falsely accused youth.
At the part where a title-broker and a disciple of a renowned sect struck a sinister deal—trading away a half-form of their sect’s martial arts—the young martial heirs began to stir.

Chwi Dugae didn’t miss a single reaction from any of them.
Soon the song built to its climax.
As the young martial man, misunderstood as a demonic cultivator, slew another young martial prodigy who had come seeking fame, his anguished cries resounded alongside the crashing zither through the pavilion.

Now, some among the heirs had begun to tremble.
The zither’s sound grew even more sorrowful, flowing into the final lyrics: the youth, in a sea of grief, casting himself to his death.
Tears streamed down Gwaa’s face as she finished the song.
—Jjeoreoreoreong!

The geum released a thunderous roar of fury and fell silent. A heavy stillness descended over the pavilion.
Kwak Yeon looked over the pale faces of the young martial heirs and said,
“The song you just heard recounts an incident I personally witnessed at Hyeopmungok. I will not reveal who the young martial man was, nor who he killed.”

“…”
“The ones who made filthy deals for honorary titles—I’ve punished them all myself. And in the process, I obtained their ledgers.”
Kwak Yeon drew a ledger from within his sleeve.

“Until just now, I was seething with rage, thinking of those who died unjustly under false accusations of being demonic cultivators.”
Among the heirs, several turned visibly pale.
They had realized exactly what that ledger was.

Kwak Yeon scanned the crowd, meeting their eyes one by one, and spoke.
“My heart urges me to expose this to the whole world…”
With a flicker of Threefold True Flame, the ledger caught fire.

“But I’ve chosen to end it here.”
Relief spread across many of the heirs’ faces.
“I’ll now explain why I held back my anger. And why I burned the ledger. But before that, it seems one of your comrades has something to say. Please listen.”

Kwak Yeon looked toward the staircase.
“Young Hero Hwa.”
At some point, Hwa Yu-yang of the Sun Sword Sect had arrived and stood at the base of the stairs.

“Would you please tell them what those men planned to do with the half-form they obtained?”
Hwa Yu-yang stepped forward under the gaze of all the heirs.
He bowed toward Kwak Yeon, then faced the gathered martial heirs and opened his mouth.

“I, Hwa Yu-yang, have something to confess to you all. That’s right. The traitor in that song—was me.”
With a grim expression, Hwa Yu-yang told everything—what he had done, what he had been through.
“...If not for Brother Kwak’s guidance, I would have committed grave sins against my sect.”

When he finished recounting everything, Hwa Yu-yang turned and bowed deeply to Kwak Yeon.
“Brother Kwak, thank you for giving me the chance to confess my wrongs.”
Kwak Yeon bowed in return.

“Young Hero Hwa, I thank you deeply for your courage.”
“No. If anything, now that I’ve come clean, my heart feels lighter. Thanks to you, I can return to my sect, admit my guilt, and accept my punishment.”
Without sparing a single glance toward the other heirs, Hwa Yu-yang descended the pavilion.

Once he had fully disappeared down the stairs, Kwak Yeon turned back to the young martial heirs.
“I leave the choice to you. You don’t need to confess here like Young Hero Hwa did. I won’t force anyone. Though I burned that ledger, it’s obvious the true masterminds still have copies. And if so, they’ll no doubt attempt to use your sects’ martial arts, just as they did with Hwa. You must decide for yourselves—will you remain caught in the web and get dragged deeper into their schemes, or will you free yourselves before it’s too late and save both your sect and yourselves?”
Having said his piece, Kwak Yeon walked out through the gathered martial heirs, with Jo Cheon-yang and Gwaa following.

At that moment, Danmok Cheong regained consciousness.
Seeing Kwak Yeon walking so boldly through the heirs, he shouted in a rage,
“What are you all doing?! Are you really going to let this Cave Daoist who insulted the Hwayeong Assembly just walk away?! Seize him this instant, to protect the dignity of—!”

Smack!
Danmok Cheong was slapped again.
So hard, in fact, that several of his teeth flew out.

“You son of a—”
Smack!
Another blow to the opposite cheek. Danmok Cheong lost consciousness again.

Chwi Dugae began to wonder whether Danmok Cheong might end up living the rest of his life eating rice porridge.
‘Does that Danmok brat even realize how lucky he is to get off this lightly?’
If he ever found out that Kwak Yeon had entered Waryong Stronghold and killed the Waryong Divine Sword, he surely would.

But alas, the Danmok Clan was no Jeong Family—too slow-witted to grasp the implications. Just like that fool Danmok Cheong, lying flat on his back.
Chwi Dugae now understood why Kwak Yeon had asked him to conceal his identity—and why he had continued to refer to Jo Cheon-yang and Gwaa as merely a musician and a courtesan.
It was all so they wouldn’t be saddled with unnecessary grudges.

 
****
At the Guanzemiao Shrine, Kwak Yeon and Chwi Dugae sat facing each other.

“Why here and not an inn?”
To Chwi Dugae, it was not a place of fond memories.
‘Damn that yellow dog!’

He’d eaten it without knowing and gotten completely screwed. Not that he disliked his newly acquired disciple.
It was just that he still felt bitter about being trapped by yellow dog meat.
‘Tricked with yellow dog meat by my master… now roped in by my disciple with yellow dog meat. Hah… what, have I been possessed by some ghost that died craving yellow dog stew?’

When Kwak Yeon didn’t respond at all, Chwi Dugae changed the subject.
“What’s Elder Jo’s condition exactly?”
Only then did Kwak Yeon open his mouth.

“Two months at most.”
“It’s that bad?”
“His illness was already severe. And then he took internal injuries at Cheongseok Tower. It shortened his lifespan even further.”

“Gwaa doesn’t know, does she?”
Kwak Yeon nodded.
“Elder Jo firmly asked me never to tell her.”

“……”
“He said he wants to quietly retire to a secluded place and settle the last of his days in peace.”
Kwak Yeon hadn’t tried to argue.

He couldn’t sit beside Elder Jo forever, circulating Primordial Harmonious Art. The old man’s body was already like a shattered vessel—its effectiveness was limited.
He had long since gone beyond the line that Master Jang Noya had taught him: offer help within limits.
Kwak Yeon had decided to think of it as simply repaying the Qi Ability he had gained thanks to Elder Jo and Gwaa.

“Brother Rear Beggar, what about Gwaa?”
“I intend to bring her to the Main Beggars’ Headquarters.”
“You’re not going to teach her yourself?”

“Think anyone can just become a Beggar of the Guild? For a while, Gwaa will have to train as a Knotless Beggar—that’s the beginner rank. And she’ll need basic martial training too.”
At those words, Kwak Yeon recalled the training center below Mount Wudang.
“Does the Beggars’ Guild also have a training center?”

“Training center?”
“A place for basic instruction and disciple selection.”
Chwi Dugae’s eyes narrowed.

“Wait... don’t tell me...?”
“……”
Chwi Dugae’s eyes widened.

“I see. So that’s how you ended up as a Lay Daoist of Samnyeonggung.”
Once again, Kwak Yeon thought that when Chwi Dugae wasn’t drinking, he really did have a once-in-a-thousand-years mind.
Chwi Dugae, too, looked at Kwak Yeon with renewed admiration—though for slightly different reasons.

‘Huh! So he’s a real devil of a bastard.’
He had crawled up from the lowest of the low to reach the peak. Just imagining how tenacious he must’ve been was staggering.
“In our Beggars’ Guild, we don’t have training centers like Mount Wudang. But we do have a place of learning that’s just as tough.”

“...?”
Chwi Dugae smiled faintly as he thought of his master, the Dragon-Head Branch Leader.
Just imagining how hard his master would push this disciple-to-be made his chest ache.

‘It’s definitely not because of the Thousand-Day Dream. This is simply the path anyone must walk to become a disciple of Rear Beggar Chwi.’
“Brother Kwak, by the way—I’ve been meaning to ask.”
“Go ahead.”

“That ledger you burned. Where did you get it? The one Seo Myeonho wrote down was kept by those Hao Clan bastards as evidence and never handed over. And there was nothing found on the Sub-Branch Leader’s corpse, either.”
“I got a discarded scripture from an attendant monk at Baekyang Hermitage. A scorched text—one burned because the transcription was flawed.”
“Then...?”

“If you believe it’s real, then it becomes real, doesn’t it?”
“Ho! So that’s why you burned it so quickly!”
“Because the longer the night, the more dreams it brings.”

In other words, strike fast and overwhelm the young heirs before they regained their senses.
‘When did that Cave Daoist plan all this?’
Once again, Chwi Dugae realized Kwak Yeon’s strength wasn’t limited to martial arts. His wit and adaptability far exceeded his martial prowess.

‘A true monster has emerged!’
Chwi Dugae silently vowed to win his master’s permission to travel alongside Kwak Yeon.
‘And if my master refuses...?’

Then he’d have to prepare a contingency plan.
With his resolve firm, Chwi Dugae spoke.
“Anyway, time to start wrapping things up.”

“...?”
“Didn’t you say you had a request to make of the Beggars’ Guild?”
“I did.”

Kwak Yeon nodded and asked,
“Brother Rear Beggar, among the members of the Beggars’ Guild, do you know who’s a friend of the Grandmaster Emeritus?”
“The Wudang Sword Venerable’s friend...?”

“You don’t, then.”
“If I ask my master, I can find out. That’s what your request was about, then. What’s the reason you’re looking for him?”
“They say that about ten years ago, when the Grandmaster Emeritus descended the mountain, he said he was going to visit his friend in the Beggars’ Guild.”

Chwi Dugae’s eyes lit up.
“So you’ve been searching for the Grandmaster Emeritus?”