Wudang Sacred Scriptures

“Whatever it is, just tell me,” Kwak Yeon responded immediately.

Jang Gu-sam untied a cord from around his neck and handed it to Kwak Yeon. At the end of the cord was a small leather pouch.

”Give this to my friend when he comes,” Jang Gu-sam said.

Kwak Yeon was startled.

”I thought your friend had passed away?”

”Did I ever say he was dead?”

”Well, no, but…”

”He’s not the kind of person to die so easily. He will come. Keep this safe and make sure to give it to him.”

”Has he gone far away?”

Jang Gu-sam nodded.

”Neither of us realized how long this journey would take.”

There was an enigmatic weight to his words.

”But how will your friend know that I have this? Wouldn’t it be better to entrust it to someone else?”

”There’s no need to worry about that. He will find out one way or another. And you’re the only one qualified to hold onto this.”

Kwak Yeon couldn’t fully understand what he meant. He could only interpret it as a sign of trust.

Still, one concern lingered in his mind.

”I don’t even know who your friend is,” he said, hoping Jang Gu-sam would reveal the name so he could deliver the item personally if needed.

Jang Gu-sam replied,

”We agreed that he would come for it, so all you have to do is wait.”

Kwak Yeon sensed there was a compelling reason for Jang Gu-sam to withhold the name.

”If the two of you made such a promise, I won’t press further. But how can you be certain that the one who comes is really your friend?”

”You’ll know how to confirm it,” Jang Gu-sam assured him.

Kwak Yeon thought of Yueyang Tower.

”It’s the inscription on the foundation stone, isn’t it?”

”We once talked about going to Yueyang Tower together to find that inscription,” Jang Gu-sam said with a bittersweet smile.

He continued,

”Let’s keep this matter between you and me. Can you promise me that?”

Clutching the leather pouch tightly, Kwak Yeon replied,

”I promise.”

Jang Gu-sam’s face lit up.

”Ah, now I can rest easy.”

Those were the last words Kwak Yeon ever heard from Jang Gu-sam.

The next night, after completing his training, Kwak Yeon returned to the Kitchen Hall late. He found Jang Gu-sam sitting motionless by the hearth.

The firewood in the hearth had burned out, leaving only a mound of white ash.

Kwak Yeon couldn’t accept what he was seeing.

Hadn’t Jang Gu-sam been smiling brightly just that morning when they parted ways?

It was inconceivable that his life had been snuffed out so suddenly.

Still, Kwak Yeon knew that Jang Gu-sam hadn’t taken his own life; there were no signs of such a thing.

Grief-stricken, Kwak Yeon gradually regained his composure.

Jang Gu-sam’s expression was serene, as if he were dreaming.

Now, no one could drive him away—not the Wudang Sect Leader, nor the powerful council of sect lords.

Kwak Yeon gathered knotted pieces of firewood and lit the hearth.

Jang Gu-sam had always preferred those gnarled logs.

”There’s nothing better for a strong flame than knotted wood,” he’d said. ”Do you know why? The knots are where the tree healed its scars, making them tough.”

As the flames leapt up, warmth seemed to return to Jang Gu-sam’s cold face.

Sitting beside him, Kwak Yeon dreamed of meeting the friend on his behalf.

Despite being cast aside by the Wudang Sect, where he’d spent his entire life, Jang Gu-sam had never let go of his deep affection for it.

He once said, ”You’re not truly abandoned as long as you don’t abandon yourself.”

Reflecting on those words, Kwak Yeon bowed his head.

When the morning bell rang, signaling the start of the day’s routines, Kwak Yeon prostrated himself before Jang Gu-sam, bowing three times.

Then, quietly, he left the Kitchen Hall.

*****

”Whoa, whoa!”

Seok Jangsan waved his arms as he stepped back.

”Calm down! This is just sparring.”

Only then did Kwak Yeon stop his relentless attacks.

”Oh! Sorry.”

Seok Jangsan, catching his breath, said,

”Why are you so desperate? It’s been ten straight days of this.”

For the past ten days, Kwak Yeon had been throwing himself into training. After completing his daily routines, he would rush to spar with Seok Jangsan. Since Ha Gang couldn’t withstand Kwak Yeon’s intensity, he had surrendered early on, leaving Seok Jangsan to take over.

Has it already been ten days?

Even after ten days, Kwak Yeon’s grief over Jang Gu-sam’s passing hadn’t lessened. In fact, it had evolved. The hollow, aimless sorrow had transformed into anger—anger at his own helplessness.

”I couldn’t control myself,” Kwak Yeon said with a heavy expression.

”And I desperately want to become a Main Sect disciple.”

Seok Jangsan looked at him for a moment before asking,

”Because of Jang Gu-sam?”

Kwak Yeon sighed deeply.

”I never thought he’d leave us so suddenly.”

”Most of us feel the same. And since the new head cook arrived, that feeling has only grown.”

Since the change in leadership, the quality of the meals at the Kitchen Hall had significantly deteriorated.

”They say the old is gold for a reason,” Seok Jangsan remarked.

Kwak Yeon hadn’t told anyone that he thought of Jang Gu-sam as a grandfather. Because of this, no one, not even his closest friend Seok Jangsan, could fully understand the depth of his loss.

”I heard some rumors,” Seok Jangsan said in a low voice.

”The instructors are whispering that the Division Leader is pocketing kickbacks through the new head cook. That’s probably why Jang Gu-sam was ousted.”

Kwak Yeon’s eyes widened.

”Is that true?”

Seok Jangsan nodded.

”The Division Leader has a relative who runs a large supply store somewhere in Hubei Province. Most of the supplies for the dormitories now come from there. But as long as Jang Gu-sam was here, he couldn’t fully control the Kitchen Hall’s procurement.”

Kwak Yeon felt a surge of disbelief, followed by uncontrollable rage.

”Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything,” Seok Jangsan said, noticing Kwak Yeon’s reddening face. He quickly added,

”No matter how angry you are, don’t let it show. The moment you draw the Division Leader’s ire, it’s over for you. Focus on becoming a Main Sect disciple first.”

Kwak Yeon nodded, taking Seok Jangsan’s serious advice to heart.

”I’ll keep that in mind.”

”And there’s been some talk about Jang Gu-sam’s sudden death too.”

Kwak Yeon’s eyes widened again.

”Can you tell me more?”

”The infirmary physician tilted his head dozens of times before concluding it was a death from chronic illness. Because of that hesitation, a few wild rumors have started circulating. But they’ll die down soon. Who pays attention to the death of a kitchen worker for long? If it weren’t Jang Gu-sam, it wouldn’t even have made this much noise.”

Seok Jangsan glanced at the night sky before standing up.

”Anyway, it’s good that you’re so focused on training. Your determination to become a Main Sect disciple is admirable. I was always worried that you lacked a competitive edge.”

He paused for a moment before continuing.

”But reckless sparring like this will only ruin your body.”

Kwak Yeon knew that Seok Jangsan always held back during their matches. With his natural martial talent, Seok Jangsan’s combat skills were far superior.

”Continuing this kind of senseless sparring won’t accomplish anything,” Seok Jangsan said with a serious expression.

”Think carefully about whether you want to keep this up.”

After Seok Jangsan left, Kwak Yeon stood there in a daze.

He realized that his emotions had clouded his judgment, pulling him away from reality.

Kwak Yeon resolved to regain his composure.

To escape his powerlessness, he had to become a Main Sect disciple and master martial arts.

He needed to heal his battered body and devote himself to training, not just for himself but to fulfill the promises he’d made to his fellow trainees, like Mae Jang-so, who had already left the dormitory.

With his emotions settled, Kwak Yeon felt a crushing wave of exhaustion.

No matter how intense his training, he had always recovered completely by the next day.

But as Seok Jangsan had pointed out, the reckless sparring had taken a toll on his body.

Kwak Yeon understood that improper movements strained the muscles and tendons. That was why the instructors emphasized mastering the basics of martial arts.

Even so, this extreme fatigue doesn’t make sense.

Kwak Yeon couldn’t believe that his body had deteriorated so much in just ten days.

Ah, that’s it.

He suddenly remembered that he hadn’t practiced the Celestial Meridian Map technique during those ten days.

Whenever he gazed at the night sky, he was reminded of Jang Gu-sam, making it hard to focus.

Kwak Yeon recalled that ever since he began combining the Celestial Meridian Map with Danjeon Breathing, his fatigue had significantly lessened.

At the time, he thought it was mere coincidence. He had assumed his body had simply grown stronger and more resilient.

Looking up at the night sky now, he saw Jang Gu-sam’s face instead of the stars.

In his heart, Kwak Yeon silently vowed,

I’ll never forget you. And I’ll acquire the strength to protect people like you from injustice.

The image of Jang Gu-sam in the sky smiled back at him.

The next day, after finishing his training, Kwak Yeon went straight to the infirmary and knocked on the door.

Physician Hyun Ik was engrossed in a medical text when he asked,

”Where are you injured?”

”I’m not injured,” Kwak Yeon replied.

”Then why are you here?”

”I want to know the reason for Head Cook Jang’s sudden death.”

Hyun Ik looked up from his book, his gaze sharp with interest.

”You’re the one from the Jianche Yangsheng Method…”

”Kwak Yeon,” he introduced himself.

”Ah, Kwak Yeon!”

Hyun Ik tilted his head and asked,

”But why are you curious about Jang’s death? What does it matter to you?”

”I thought of Jang Gu-sam as my grandfather. I visited him the night he passed. He seemed fine, so his sudden death was shocking.”

Hyun Ik studied Kwak Yeon’s somber expression and nodded.

”I must admit, I was quietly upset that no one cared about his death. Everyone ate the meals he prepared three times a day, yet not one person asked how he passed, even out of politeness.”

Hyun Ik’s gaze softened as he continued,

”You must have been deeply shaken, given how close you were to him.”

Kwak Yeon struggled to hold back tears at the kind words.

”Regardless, Jang’s death was natural. You were there; you know there was no other cause.”

Kwak Yeon nodded.

”I don’t doubt that. I understand his old age and the emotional shock he endured. But I heard you hesitated before reaching your conclusion, and I was curious why.”

”It’s true that he died of old age. But I hesitated because I couldn’t understand why his body deteriorated so rapidly.”

Kwak Yeon cautiously asked,

”Could it have been the emotional shock?”

Hyun Ik shook his head.

”The autopsy revealed that none of his internal organs were functioning properly. Each one was so severely affected that it should have been impossible for him to survive. By all accounts, he should have died a long time ago.”

Kwak Yeon was stunned.

”He seemed perfectly healthy. He never showed any signs of pain or discomfort…”

”Exactly. That’s why I couldn’t understand it. It’s unheard of for such severe conditions to worsen overnight, and if these issues had been ongoing, it’s a miracle he was alive at all.”

Kwak Yeon asked,

”Has there ever been a case like this before?”

Hyun Ik nodded.

”There’s no record of such a case. The only vaguely similar phenomenon is rapid aging caused by demonic techniques that drain vital energy.”

Sighing deeply, Hyun Ik continued,

”Ah! Speaking to you about this is a relief. No one else has asked, and I’ve been agonizing over it alone. I couldn’t exactly ramble about it to just anyone.”

Ultimately, Jang Gu-sam’s death was ruled as a natural consequence of old age.

Satisfied that his doubts had been addressed, Kwak Yeon returned to his dormitory.