Wudang Sacred Scriptures

Seokjangsan’s face lit up.

“I knew that true emptiness is attained through the harmony of external and internal cultivation, but I didn’t know there was a way to strengthen the external aspect.”

“There are many foundational Daoist studies in Wudang. That’s something to be thankful for.”

At those words, Seokjangsan’s expression darkened again.

“Kwak Yeon, as you know, Daoist scripture study is difficult for me.”

Seokjangsan’s dyslexia was still a burden he had yet to overcome.

“There’s no need to decipher the Daoist canons yourself. Seeking instruction from Daoist Hyeonhae of Samnyeonggung is another option.”

Seokjangsan nodded.

“I’ll definitely go to Samnyeonggung and seek his teachings.”

Kwak Yeon hoped this would be the spark for a new wind to rise within Wudang.

For a long time, the Wudang Sect had distanced itself from Daoist cultivation.

He hoped it could become a path to recovering their true Daoist roots—but even if it didn’t, that was fine too.

Cultivating the external realm wouldn’t break through the wall of transformative enlightenment in itself, but it laid the groundwork for gaining insight, which would eventually help break through that wall.

If one steadily built up external cultivation, reaching the pinnacle of martial emission would not be difficult.

Kwak Yeon was certain that the next time they met, Seokjangsan would no longer greet him in a despondent state.

“Hey, Kwak Yeon. Learning from you like this, it feels like we’re back in our Yeongmudang days.”

A heavy silence settled between them.

The moment they thought of their days at Yeongmudang, Jeong I-chu came to mind.

“Ichu wouldn’t want us like this.”

At Kwak Yeon’s words, Seokjangsan nodded.

“Yeah.”

“......”

“Kwak Yeon, Ichu talked about you a lot. Even before I left for Aknyang with Master Hyunam, he mentioned you. Said he’d heard something from a physician who came from Geyang-hyeon.”

“A physician from Geyang-hyeon?”

“There was a serious injury, so we summoned physicians skilled in trauma treatment. Sounds like that physician had treated the Black Serpent Hall sub-branch master at some point and heard about you then.”

Kwak Yeon recalled what he’d heard from Master Hyunam.

“There must’ve been a leak. Those bastards knew exactly where the patients were staying and what their condition was. So far, none of Seong Iljang’s retainers are under suspicion, but we can’t be certain.”

“Do you know where that physician is now?”

“No idea. He was at Seong Iljang’s place until we left for Aknyang. But why do you ask?”

“No particular reason. Just curious since you said he talked about me.”

Kwak Yeon felt a faint urgency rising.

“Jangsan, let’s part ways here. You’re heading for Mount Wudang soon—they’re probably already waiting for you.”

They’d come farther than expected, caught up in the bittersweetness of parting.

Seokjangsan nodded.

“Right. Master Kwak.”

“Master?”

“Master Hyunam scolded me. Said that no matter how close we are, there’s a proper hierarchy, and I shouldn’t call you by name.”

“......”

“Next time we meet, I’ll make sure to address you properly as ‘Master.’”

Kwak Yeon watched Seokjangsan’s figure recede back toward Seong Iljang’s residence for quite some time.

“‘Master,’ huh...”

As he looked at the broad back of the burly young man, he was struck by the realization that they had left an entire era behind them.

At the time, it had felt like a living hell—but looking back, it had been a beautiful era.

An era that would never return.

****

“Aaah-haaaahm!”

Yawning broadly, Gong Chunsam spotted a young man stepping into his liquor shop.

Half-heartedly preparing to greet the visitor, Gong Chunsam caught sight of the Cheonggang Sword hanging at the young man’s waist—and gulped.

The youth wasn’t just there to drink—he was a martial artist who’d come looking for the Hao Clan.

Though the liquor shop was his storefront, Gong Chunsam’s real job was as branch manager of the Hao Clan’s Sa In-hyeon division.

A greenhorn fresh out in the world! This could be a juicy one.

Even at a glance, the youth reeked of someone making his first foray into the martial world.

Walking around proudly flashing his sword like that.

That rookie had surely come to the Hao Clan because of the Seong Iljang incident.

The dispute between the Wudang Sect and the Cult of the Evil Way had been the loudest, most sensational incident in the entire Jeongyang region.

It’s the kind of thing a newbie couldn’t possibly ignore. Still, if he recognized the Hao Clan’s mark, he might not be a total rookie...?

Gong Chunsam quickly shook the thought off.

Probably learned it from his martial elders, or picked it up during training.

Any sect or martial school would drill basic martial world knowledge into disciples before letting them step outside.

He pretended not to notice the youth, watching him out of the corner of his eye as the boy browsed the jars of liquor and price tags.

Keeping customers in suspense was the core of information brokering—especially with rookies, one had to play it even cooler.

While Gong Chunsam acted indifferent, the youth came forward carrying a liquor jar.

Thump!

Gong Chunsam flinched slightly when he saw the jar the young man placed on the counter.

It had no label, no price tag.

Such unlabeled items marked top-priority Hao Clan requests—Special Grade Commissions.

“This one’s not for sale, sir.”

Gong Chunsam assumed the greenhorn had grabbed it not knowing any better.

But then—

“No, it’s for sale.”

“...?”

“You wouldn’t put something on display if you weren’t planning to sell it, would you?”

Though slightly unnerved by the reply, Gong Chunsam replied smoothly.

“This one’s rather expensive, sir. I’d recommend choosing something else.”

The youth shook his head firmly.

“I must have this one.”

Gong Chunsam realized the young man knew exactly what he was saying.

Special Grade Commissions didn’t have set prices—you could ask for any amount.

Even Gong Chunsam, a long-time veteran of the Hao Clan, had never once received a Special Grade Commission.

And yet this rookie was here to request one?

No, even just knowing what a Special Grade Commission was—that alone was remarkable.

“Well, if you insist... But it’s not exactly cheap.”

A subtle probe—he was asking if the kid could afford it.

If not, scram, rookie.

But then the youth reached into his robes.

Gong Chunsam swallowed hard.

Don’t tell me he really has the money? That’d be a jackpot...

He was hoping for a shining gold bar or a valuable credit note—but his brow furrowed.

A... silk cloth?

“I’m not sure what you’re playing at, sir.”

“......”

When the youth said nothing after placing the silk on the counter, Gong Chunsam unfolded it out of curiosity.

“...Hah!”

Gong Chunsam’s eyes {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} went wide as lanterns.

“The Document of the Twelve Elders!”

A Certificate of Gratitude signed by all twelve elders of the Hao Clan.

Gong Chunsam quickly rose from his seat, straightened his clothes, and bowed deeply.

“I apologize for failing to recognize a benefactor of our clan.”

Kwak Yeon was slightly taken aback by the sudden shift in Gong Chunsam’s demeanor.

He had assumed the Certificate of Gratitude would be useful, but he hadn’t expected to be treated with such reverence.

“Elder Jo truly gave me a tremendous gift.”

“Please, come inside.”

Gong Chunsam hurried ahead into the inner room, hastily clearing the bundles of documents off the low table, then gestured toward a seat.

“Please, have a seat.”

Taking the chair Gong Chunsam had offered, Kwak Yeon asked,

“Is that certificate really so remarkable?”

“Oh my, you didn’t know what it was?”

“......”

He’d simply accepted it when Elder Jo offered it, assuming it would be useful for gathering information.

“Our Hao Clan has only ever had one such certificate in the entire martial world. We just received a formal notice that a second one had been issued, but to think its bearer would be such a young—no, youthful hero such as yourself...”

As he spoke with exaggerated politeness, Gong Chunsam’s face abruptly froze.

“...!”

His expression turned serious as he asked,

“Young hero, what is your commission?”

Special Grade Commissions required all other requests to be set aside. Every member of the Hao Clan had to be mobilized and prioritize it. There was no way not to be curious.

“Help me find someone.”

“Someone?”

Gong Chunsam was baffled.

“He’s making a Special Grade Commission... to find a person? Just how important could this person be...?”

“From Geyang-hyeon. A physician skilled in trauma treatment. He arrived in Sa In-hyeon about five days ago. How long will it take to find him?”

“A mere physician, and you’re calling that Special Grade...?”

Despite his skepticism, Gong Chunsam asked,

“Is that physician still here in Sa In-hyeon?”

“I can’t say for certain. It’s possible he’s already left.”

“If the information is this limited and the area too broad, I would need five days.”

“Put out inquiries through the apothecaries and blacksmiths. A physician is bound to have stopped by such places. Also check the inns nearby—he’s likely staying at one of those.”

Gong Chunsam looked at Kwak Yeon with widened eyes.

“Huh, this one’s no greenhorn.”

No—he was no ordinary martial artist at all.

“If we narrow it down like that, I can do it within two days.”

Kwak Yeon shook his head.

“That’s too late.”

“Sorry? Then...?”

“I’m giving you one day.”

Gong Chunsam felt a chill at the way he said ‘giving.’ That phrasing meant the young man held full control of the situation.

“Even if it’s a Special Grade, one day is a bit...”

“I am Kwak Yeon, Lay Daoist of Samnyeonggung on Mount Wudang.”

Startled, Gong Chunsam replied at once.

“Young hero, our Hao Clan does not inquire into our clients’ identities.”

“But you recognized me and were wondering if I matched what you’d heard, weren’t you?”

Caught off guard, Gong Chunsam’s face stiffened.

“How did you...?”

Seeing his reaction, Kwak Yeon calmly continued.

“No need to be so tense. I know my portrait’s been circulated among the Hao Clan.”

He’d noticed Gong Chunsam’s expression subtly shift the moment he saw his face. That brief flicker reminded him of how Seomyeon Hori had once recognized him by a portrait made by the Jeong Family.

Bowing hurriedly, Gong Chunsam spoke in a lowered voice.

“I apologize. We’ve already received a commission regarding you... And while I cannot disclose the client’s identity, they are simply too...”

“There’s no need to apologize. In fact, you may sell my information to the Jeong Family if you wish.”

“...Pardon?”

Startled, Gong Chunsam looked as if he might cry.

“Young hero... That, well... It’s complicated to explain... In any case, the elders don’t involve themselves in field matters. I hope there’s no misunderstanding.”

“I know the Hao Clan survives by treating every commission equally, no matter who the client is. And I don’t intend to make things difficult by brandishing my certificate.”

“Ah...”

“Just fulfill my request during the promised time. But if word about it leaks, I will hold someone accountable.”

“One day. I will find him within one day.”

Gong Chunsam was already planning to mobilize every Hao Clan branch in the area—and drive them hard.

“I know it’s not much, but take this.”

Kwak Yeon placed a silver ingot on the table.

“Young hero, we do not accept payment for requests made with a Certificate of Gratitude.”

“Take it. That will put my mind at ease.”