Wudang Sacred Scriptures-Chapter 58

At the Cheongsu Training Hall courtyard, Kwak Yeon remained, as always, merely an observer.

Even Cheongjin, the guide of the Divine Dragon Class (Shinryong Class), felt a pang of shame at Kwak Yeon's unwavering passion.

Yet he could not defy the master's orders forbidding him from giving direct instruction.

All Cheongjin could do was carefully correct the trainees’ stances so Kwak Yeon could study the martial forms in finer detail, or occasionally separate out movements to demonstrate them more clearly.

But knowing the movements was not the same as mastering martial arts.

One had to hear the secret verses — and awaken the heart's true intent.

That was why they were called the Heart Verses of Martial Arts.

The training disciples were applying their Internal Energy Pressure according to the verses for each technique.

It was still clumsy, but through thousands of repetitions, their movements would become natural.

And once their internal energy reached a certain threshold, a moment would come when their energy would surge outward with each technique they performed.

That would be the realm of Manifest Qi.

It was the foundation to reaching the peak of mastery, to becoming a true master who could Eject Qi.

But for Kwak Yeon, that road had been blocked entirely — all because he belonged to the solitary lineage of Three Spirits Palace.

Cheongjin watched Kwak Yeon and recalled what had happened the night before.

Cheongjin had never once imagined that he would seek him out again.

Their friendship, which had been special for three years, had shattered into pieces — and with those fragments, they had torn each other’s hearts apart.

He had believed it a wound that would never heal.

"Been a while."

The boy who suddenly appeared before him was no longer dragging his leg.

"How did you even get in here...?"

Cheongjin spoke sharply.

"A guard from the Outer Court slipping into the Inner Court isn't that big of a deal, is it? It’s not like I’m one of you Inner Court disciples who can come and go freely."

"Guard?"

Now that he looked, he realized Kwak Yeon was wearing a green uniform marked with the character for 'Outer.'

"My leg's mostly healed, so I resumed my martial training. Somehow, I managed to get assigned as a guard."

"...Ah."

"Anyway, I made it up to the Main Mountain, so it’s quite the occasion for me.

Do you remember that day at the joint academy?

When we stayed training until the very end and looked up at Mount Wudang together?"

A hollow sensation gnawed at Cheongjin’s chest.

"Do you know what I realized after coming up here?"

"..."

"Nothing’s different."

Kwak Yeon gave a dry laugh and continued.

"I hear you’re no different either.

They say you’re called the 'Demonstration Instructor' and the 'Guide' at True Martial Hall, but all you really do is entertain the noble heirs."

"I won't deny it."

Cheongjin nodded without hesitation, but his eyes flared with anger.

"And what, you thought you would’ve been any different if you'd taken my place?

No matter how brilliant you were back at the academy, up here you're nothing more than a heel!

What, did you come here to mock me? Or to beat me up?"

Cheongjin couldn’t read anything from Kwak Yeon's gaze.

It had deepened — in a way he couldn’t fathom.

Once, he could tell what Kwak Yeon was thinking just by looking into his eyes.

But now, he could only recognize one thing:

Contempt.

Enraged, Cheongjin burst out.

"Fine! Do both!

Damn it, it’s always been hell for me too!"

Cheongjin dropped to his knees with a thud.

"I don’t know why I did what I did that day... I must’ve been completely insane."

A choked sob escaped him.

He heard footsteps approaching.

He braced himself for a blow — willing to take it.

He would accept every strike, until Kwak Yeon's rage was spent.

But instead—

Tap.

A hand gripped his shoulder, lifting him up.

"If you really mean it, then pay your debt."

"...?"

"Teach Kwak Yeon whatever you can about the martial arts of True Martial Hall.

Everyone knows he just stands there like a barley sack."

Though the Cheongsu Training Hall was somewhat removed from the main halls, rumors could not be completely contained.

"Why him?" Cheongjin asked.

Kwak Yeon tapped his left leg lightly.

"I owe him."

"...!"

"I'm asking you."

It wasn’t a threat.

It wasn’t coercion.

And it certainly wasn’t an attempt to demand repayment for old grudges.

Had it been, the wounds between them would only have deepened.

But this — this was something different.

It was something that could even erase the scars.

"Thank you... Jin-sam."

Cheongjin’s eyes reddened.

"I’ll do what I can.

Because it’s you asking."

Waking from his thoughts, Cheongjin looked again at Kwak Yeon.

Once just a meager disciple of the Three Spirits Palace’s solitary lineage, the boy now seemed... bigger.

"Everyone, halt!"

Cheongjin’s voice cracked like a whip.

The Divine Dragon Class trainees immediately froze.

"Where have you left your minds?

How can you chase the forms without understanding the verses?"

The students stared at him in bewilderment.

"Guide, we don't understand..."

"Please point out our mistakes so we can correct them."

Their earnest gazes turned to him.

Cheongjin asked one of them.

"Cheongjuk, what is the verse for the first form of the Tai Chi Sword — the 'Thousand Paths'?"

"To guide the way with the softness of spring’s first light, and to advance ten thousand steps ahead with the mind of boundless vision."

"Then why are you staring only at your own nose?

You must envision the entire path of the sword with the eyes of your heart."

"Now — everyone — execute the Thousand Paths while reflecting on its true meaning!"

The trainees moved as one.

Cheongjin then pointed to another student, Mokwan.

"Mokwan. What's the verse for the second form — 'Heavenly Dragon Ascending Through the Clouds'?"

"To soar upward like a heavenly dragon, pulling the rain clouds along."

"Then why are you so sluggish?

You move like an earthworm, not a dragon!"

"..."

"All of you — perform the Heavenly Dragon Ascending! Begin!"

Kwak Yeon’s mind sharpened instantly.

Cheongjin was revealing the secret verses of the Tai Chi Sword Forms!

"Today, I will point things out just once," Cheongjin warned.

"From tomorrow, any trainee who does not show proper form will face harsh penalties.

You have been warned."

Kwak Yeon realized — he was speaking directly to him.

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Telling him to listen carefully and memorize everything.

"Starting tomorrow, half of each training session will be dedicated to reviewing whether your practice matches the verses you were taught.

Be prepared."

Kwak Yeon's chest swelled with emotion.

It was clear: Cheongjin intended to teach him the secret verses through these sessions.

"Cheongil!

What is the verse for the third form, 'High Heaven Chasing the Moon'?"

"To rise high and swiftly seek the target, like chasing the moon."

"Then why is your sword wavering without aim?"

"I will correct it!"

Kwak Yeon focused with every fiber of his being, determined not to miss a single word.

When training ended, before leaving the Cheongsu Hall, Kwak Yeon sought Cheongjin out.

"Thank you."

"There’s nothing to thank me for."

Cheongjin deliberately kept his tone cold.

"This is all I can do.

Only the masters are allowed to explain the full heart-meaning hidden within the verses."

Kwak Yeon knew that revealing the heart-meaning without permission was a grave crime in Wudang — the sin of destroying a lineage.

Even just learning the verses was a tremendous blessing for him.

Because the verses were more than mere guidelines — they contained the essence of the art itself.

"For me, it’s a grace greater than rain after three years of drought."

Cheongjin returned Kwak Yeon's respectful salute and said,

"If you had a master's guidance, you could have progressed more easily.

But don’t lament.

The secret verses of True Martial Hall are the true scriptures of Wudang.

And you’ll come to see — there are many paths to interpreting the heart's intent within them."

Just as the Dao could not be fully defined with words, so too could the secret verses be interpreted differently by each master.

Even within the same martial art, the meaning could vary drastically depending on the interpretation — and this was why disciples so desperately sought out the guidance of great masters.

"But when you reach the ultimate truth of a martial art," Cheongjin said, "all the paths converge into one. So do not lament — just keep pressing forward."

"Ah, so the principle of Ten Thousand Streams Returning to the Source applies even to the heart-verses of martial arts," Kwak Yeon murmured.

Cheongjin nodded.

"What could a mere class guide know of the Way of Martial Learning?" he said, a little self-mockingly. "Still, I've heard that you — no, Daoist Hyeonmu — have a deeper grasp of meridian theory and internal studies than any disciple here."

Kwak Yeon felt a deep gratitude stir within him.

Cheongjin had casually addressed him by his Daoist title — Hyeonmu.

"You flatter me," he said quietly.

"It's not my praise," Cheongjin replied. "It's what Seok Jangsan — the greatest talent of True Martial Hall — never stopped telling the masters and instructors."

‘Jangsan...’

Kwak Yeon’s heart tightened painfully.

There could be no mistake — Seok Jangsan had been trying to open a path for him, however he could.

"Which is why you’ll succeed," Cheongjin said. "I’m counting on you."

"Guide, would it be difficult for me to meet with the other disciples from Yeongmudang?"

"They each train within their own halls and only return late in the afternoon for martial drills at True Martial Hall. Meeting them would be difficult — and to be honest, none of them would wish for it."

Kwak Yeon nodded calmly, knowing full well that someone among them had worked to ensure he could not even step foot into the True Martial Hall.

"I understand."

Right now, meeting them would only be an obstacle.

"They’re all honing exceptional skills," Cheongjin added.

"I’ll have to work even harder, then.

If you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my leave."

"Wait," Cheongjin called after him.

As Kwak Yeon turned back, Cheongjin spoke again, his expression hardening.

"The truth is... Instructor So Jinsam came to see me yesterday."

As he climbed the steps toward Three Spirits Peak, Kwak Yeon reflected on that °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° confession.

It was a courageous act.

After all, who could confess their past mistakes so openly — especially not to the one they had wronged, but to another?

It was true that their broken friendship could never fully be restored.

Still, a burden had been lifted from their hearts — if only a little.

The darkness that had weighed on Cheongjin’s face had lightened, even if slightly.

And surely, so had the expression of Instructor So Jinsam.

The thought of So Jinsam brought a pang to Kwak Yeon's chest.

He realized he had nearly forgotten about him altogether.

And yet...

The man had gone so far as to bow his head and plead with the very person who had once ruined his future.

Kwak Yeon realized with painful clarity:

He was not alone.

There were so many — standing behind him, supporting him.

Instructor So Jinsam.

The seniors of Yeongmudang: Master Hyeonmun, the chief instructor, Seok Jangsan, the companions from Yeongmudang.

Daoist Hyehae, Daoist Cheongmu, Daoist Unseon who had claimed him as a disciple.

The friends he parted with at the academy, Maejangso, Seong Deok-sam, and the many other scholars.

And...

Old Master Jang, surely still watching over him from the heavens.

Kwak Yeon lifted his gaze to the sky.

"I thought you'd forgotten about me, you old rascal," he muttered with a faint smile.

It felt as if Old Master Jang was scowling at him from beyond the clouds.

‘Don’t worry. I’ll keep my promise. I swear it.’

"And you know what you must do to keep it," he heard an echo of a voice.

Swish.

As soon as Kwak Yeon returned to the Three Spirits Palace, he drew his wooden sword.

He would never let them down.

No matter what hardships awaited, he would endure.

Steeling his heart, Kwak Yeon began his training, recalling the secret verses of the Tai Chi Sword Forms.

This was nothing like simply copying movements.

A form was merely a shape — a sequence of steps and gestures.

The secret verse, however, was the meaning behind it.

It revealed the purpose.

‘Ah...

So the verse is telling me to aim for the opponent’s heart.’

By contemplating the verses while performing the form, Kwak Yeon could see it clearly.

Most of the verses were filled with metaphor.

They rarely spelled out the exact target or intent directly.

Kwak Yeon tilted his head, puzzled.

Why use so many metaphors?

Wouldn’t it be more straightforward to explain everything plainly?

Was it just to sound lofty and profound?

Sometimes, he found, the verses even contained unnecessary metaphors.

Telling one to move as lightly as a butterfly’s wings, or as softly as spring light caressing the earth.

But as he pondered, realization suddenly struck him.