Wudang Sacred Scriptures

Chapter 183

On the mountainside overlooking Lotus Valley, Kwak Yeon and Ju Yeoryeong gazed down at the shrine.

“Young Lady Ju, seeing those two together like that is truly a pleasing sight.”

At his words, Ju Yeoryeong lowered her head quietly and spoke.

“Taoist Kwak, I am truly grateful.”

Kwak Yeon looked silently at the young lady bowing demurely before saying:

“Young Lady Ju, forgive me if I have wronged you in the past.”

“No... it is I who should apologize. I was reckless, always running about without thought...”

Memories surged up for Ju Yeoryeong—ever since that day in the antique shop—until she could no longer continue.

“In any case, I’ll be going now.”

As she turned hastily, Kwak Yeon stopped her.

“Young Lady Ju, do not be in such a rush.”

“...?”

“If you go to the shrine now, will you not disturb the elders? Surely they have words to exchange, heavier than a mountain.”

“Ah!”

Turning toward the shade of a tree along the mountain path, Kwak Yeon called out:

“Young Lord, you may come forth now.”

From the shadows stepped Danmok Cheong, revealing himself.

“...?”

Ju Yeoryeong looked in surprise from one to the other. Kwak Yeon explained.

“I thought you might be lonely waiting here alone, so I asked the Young Lord of the Danmok Clan to accompany you.”

“Ah...”

Her face flushed crimson. Seeing this, Kwak Yeon spoke quickly.

“Then I shall take my leave.”

And with that, he turned away.

Farewells are best kept short. To add further words would only deepen the shadow on the heart.

Ju Yeoryeong and Danmok Cheong continued watching long after Kwak Yeon’s figure had vanished down the mountain path.

****

At dawn, Kwak Yeon arrived at Hengshan County and hesitated.

It seemed discourteous to seek out the Beggar Clan’s branch house before daybreak.

‘Even if I am pressed, I cannot rouse so many people from their morning sleep.’

Nearly a full month had passed—waiting another two hours would not harm him.

He recalled the promise of Beggar Clan’s branch master, Chwi Dugae:

“Brother Kwak, do not worry about my sending word to you. I shall dispatch letters to all the branch houses in Jiangnan. You need only enter any branch house, present the Hero’s Coin I gave you, and they will contact me at once.”

Kwak Yeon trusted that Chwi Dugae had already done so.

‘It has been close to a month since we parted at Akyang. By now, Brother Chwi must have reached Kaifeng.’

Knowing his temperament, he likely had immediately pestered the Beggar Clan Leader about who exactly the Wudang Sword Sovereign’s old Beggar Clan friend was—

—and just as likely received a cuff across the head for such insolence.

Kwak Yeon had heard from Chwi Dugae himself that the Beggar Clan Leader’s temper was no gentler than his disciple’s.

“I am mild compared to my master. He is so impatient he cannot wait even for dog hair to be plucked, but throws it straight into the pot. Thanks to him, I no longer feel any revulsion toward dog fur.”

So Chwi Dugae had excused himself that day in the temple shrine, gnawing on a dog’s leg matted with yellow fur.

Master and disciple alike—two of a kind. The only problem was the child Gwaa.

That boy would one day be forced to serve not only the filthy, hot-tempered master, but also the master’s master—surely worse still.

“Hehehe! Taoist Uncle Kwak! I must treat you properly!”

Kwak Yeon shuddered at the image of the ragged, soot-covered boy holding out a mangy dog’s leg.

‘Ugh! What am I imagining...’

At any rate, once he reached the Beggar Clan branch house, he would finally learn the identity of the Sword Sovereign’s Beggar Clan friend.

For the first time since entering the martial world, he was about to find a trace of his Patriarch.

‘If I can meet that friend, I will know much—why the Sword Sovereign descended the mountain, and most of all, where he is now.’

Then he could deliver the object hidden within the necklace, as Jang Noya had asked.

If it were news that the Sword Sovereign had already returned to Wudang Mountain, all the better.

He had also asked Chwi Dugae to gather news of Wudang Mountain, so surely word would await him.

‘If it is true that he has returned, then I must first go to Mount Wuyi, invite the Hermit Taoist, and proceed straight to Wudang.’

Just the thought brought to mind familiar faces:

‘Hermit Hyunhae, Taoist Cheongmu, Instructor Hyunmun, Elder Seokjangsan, Instructor So...’

He longed to see their expressions when faced with his newfound growth.

Envy or jealousy mattered little now.

So long as the Sword Sovereign was present, even Elder Yunhakjin could not find fault.

‘But first, I must set matters in order.’

From the Sangwan Clan Lord, he had learned that someone was defiling his trail with bloodshed.

“Taoist Kwak, forgive me. I rashly sent word to the Martial Alliance, mistaking you. It seems there are those deliberately fouling your path—be wary.”

Convinced of Kwak Yeon’s innocence after hearing the truth of the Jinseong stronghold massacre, the clan lord had warned him.

Recalling the fleeting aura he had sensed outside Gijeongru in Deokseong, Kwak Yeon had no doubt he was being followed.

It could be the Heretical Alliance. It could be the House of Jegal. Or perhaps the hidden power behind Hao Sect’s coup.

Judging by the scheme to sully his name, the Jegal House was most likely.

They had concealed Jegal Waryong’s death, yet secretly spread his portrait in wanted posters—proof of a vow of revenge.

The Jegal Clan was said to carve its grudges into stone.

In any case, the truth would come only face to face.

They would not speak easily, but he could not let slander stain him forever. It was time to settle it.

Since his sudden rush from Sangjeon Village to Lotus Valley, his pursuers must be hunting his trail with burning eyes.

All the better to leave behind a trace for them to follow.

Until the beggars of Hengshan awoke, he would prepare.

‘Then I must first enter the city.’

Finding a quiet place by the wall, Kwak Yeon leapt up.

―Tap!

In a few swift steps he was atop the battlements, scanning near the gate.

As expected, bright lanterns glimmered in the dark.

Like any other walled town, inns and eateries around the gate bustled with travelers waiting for the gates to open at dawn.

Kwak Yeon recalled Elder Jo Cheon-yang of the Hao Sect’s words:

“Taoist Kwak, you have many enemies. We of the Hao Sect are of the lowest ranks of the martial world—we cannot take contracts that distinguish between orthodox, heretic, or demonic. Forgive us, but you must keep your tracks hidden from our eyes.”

He had also taught Kwak Yeon several ways to slip past their gaze.

It was their livelihood, after all.

‘If used wisely, their eyes need not always be against me.’

Leaping down from the wall, Kwak Yeon walked toward a nearby inn.

Despite the hour, the place was crowded.

Most customers were itinerant traders, waiting to leave with the opening of the gate.

“Sir, are you alone?”

A sharp-eyed waiter scanned him quickly.

“Yes.”

Kwak Yeon noted how the man’s eyes lingered on the Cheonggang Sword. He had deliberately left it visible, and felt no burden.

“Then, as seats are full, you must share a table...”

“So long as I may sit, anywhere will do.”

For one unused to approaching others, being asked to join strangers was welcome. He could learn from the traders who knew the roads.

He had strayed far south of his intended route on the way to Lotus Valley. Now he needed fresh directions to Mount Wuyi.

The waiter led him to an empty seat among a group of traders.

“There is only one dish at this hour—plain noodles.”

That was to be expected.

“That will do.”

As the waiter left, the traders glanced curiously at Kwak Yeon.

“Sir... might you be a martial man?”

He felt keenly how a single sword awed common folk, and hurried to reply.

“I am a reclusive Taoist of Samryeong Palace on Wudang Mountain. This ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ sword is for protection only.”

Though evasive, the name of Wudang eased their expressions at once.

“Ah! A Taoist of Wudang! We are only humble traders, as you see.”

“I know. I once traveled with traders, and owed them much kindness.”

He remembered his journey with Escort Captain Hong Sucheon, and how he had first studied the martial world through him.

“Ah, so it was.”

Encouraged by his courtesy, the mood at the table grew warmer.

Kwak Yeon asked:

“You depart so early—are you going far?”

“The distance is not great, but the mountain roads are harsh.”

“So harsh?”

“Sir must not be from here. From Hengshan to Jiangxi and Fujian, this region has long been called Yue Land—renowned for treacherous roads. There is even the saying, ‘The roads of Yue are as hard as the paths of Shu.’ That is how steep the mountains are.”

Hearing this, Kwak Yeon grew concerned.

“I am bound for Mount Wuyi. Could you advise me of the way? I shall give recompense.”

“Recompense? Nonsense, it is but directions. But if you mean to go directly from here to Mount Wuyi, you will cross mountain upon mountain. It seems you have strayed far from the path.”

“So it has turned out.”

“Better to head north first to Zhangzhou and take the main road. It will take twice the time, but be easier.”

Kwak Yeon declined with thought.

“I have cultivated in the mountains, and am accustomed to rugged paths. Please, tell me the shortcut instead.”

Sleeping rough mattered little. Training in the empty mountains at night would be a boon. With the secret manual at his breast, he was eager to practice.

“In that case, I shall show you.”

One of the experienced traders dipped his finger in tea and traced the route on the table.

Just then, the waiter returned with steaming bowls.

“Deokchil, hold these a moment. I was just showing the Taoist the way.”

The boy waiter, Deokchil, blinked wide eyes.

“This man is a Taoist?”

―Clatter!

Kwak Yeon laid a few iron coins on the table before him and said:

“I am a Taoist of Samryeong Palace on Wudang Mountain.”

“Ah... so you truly are of Wudang?”

“I am receiving directions from these gentlemen. Bear with me a while longer.”

“Yes, sir!”

At the sight of the coins, the drowsy boy’s eyes sparkled like stars.