Wudang Sacred Scriptures

As they stepped out of the clothing shop, Chwi Dugae grumbled,
“Kwak Hyunjae, you’re pickier than you look, aren’t you?”

They had just visited three different outfitters before Kwak Yeon finally purchased a set of martial robes and changed.
Chwi Dugae hadn’t said a word when Kwak Yeon insisted on changing into new clothes before heading to the tavern.
After all, he was the one who’d turned Kwak Yeon’s robes into rags.

But who would’ve thought the man would deliberate so much over a single set of martial attire, dragging them through three different shops on Aknyang Fortress’s main street?
“Maybe it’s because I lived simply in the mountains. I tend to be a bit meticulous when buying things.”
“If you ask me, it was more than a bit. Martial robes ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) are all the same, aren’t they? Prices were nearly identical too.”

Martial robes prioritized freedom of movement, so they were usually loose-fitting. Whatever one chose, tying the sleeves and securing the pant legs with leg wraps generally made them all fit the same.
“Brother Hu-gai, you seem a little irritable.”
“Doesn’t exactly look good, a beggar wandering in and out of fancy shops on the street. I know I was tagging along with you, but people won’t see it that way.”

Even though Chwi Dugae was the Rear Beggar of the Beggars’ Guild, his official position was still that of a beggar. Drawing attention in public was the last thing he wanted.
Especially since if the sect’s other members caught wind of it, rumors were bound to start flying.
Like how he might’ve pocketed some “donations” from the shopkeepers, disguised as charity.

And right on cue, Chwi Dugae’s worries materialized.
“Rear Beggar! What brings you here?”
A Branch Beggar from the Beggars’ Guild’s Aknyang sub-division recognized Chwi Dugae and ran up to him.

“Oh? What brings me here? My junior needed a new set of robes, so I tagged along. What about you? What’re you doing here?”
The Branch Beggar looked baffled as he raised his alms bowl.
“Rear Beggar, this is my designated area. I was, of course, begging.”

“…”
“But… did you say your junior?”
When the Branch Beggar turned to him, Kwak Yeon gave a respectful bow and introduced himself.
“I am Kwak Yeon, Lay Daoist of Samnyeonggung on Mount Wudang. Thanks to Brother Hu-gai’s permission, we now call each other sworn brothers.”

The Aknyang Branch Beggar quickly bent at the waist.
“It is an honor to meet you, Young Hero Kwak.”
Chwi Dugae said sourly,

“Just go back to your spot and beg, would you?”
“Yes, Rear Beggar!”
As the Branch Beggar turned to leave, Kwak Yeon called out.

“Gae-gyeol,” he said, using the respectful term for senior Beggars’ Guild members. “May I ask you something?”
“Ask whatever you like.”
“Do you know which inn the Danmok Clan’s people are staying at?”
Chwi Dugae’s eyes widened at the question.

The Branch Beggar responded immediately.
“I’m in charge of this area, so of course. They’re staying at Jinyang Pavilion, at the end of this street.”
“Thank you.”

Kwak Yeon gave his thanks and headed toward Jinyang Pavilion.
Chwi Dugae quickly caught up to him and asked,
“Kwak Hyunjae… don’t tell me you’re still not satisfied after the beating you gave them yesterday?”

“That’s part of it. But I also have another reason.”
“Another reason…?”
“You’ll see soon enough.”

“…?”
Kwak Yeon said no more, and Chwi Dugae felt like tearing his hair out.
He was sure the kid was scheming something.

‘So that’s why we wandered through three different clothing shops.’
He understood now—it was to run into someone from the Beggars’ Guild and figure out where the Danmok Clan was staying.
Chwi Dugae said,

“Kwak Ah-u, if you’re planning to stir up trouble with the Danmok Clan again, why not let it go?”
“…”
“They may not be one of the Five Great Clans, but the Danmok Clan still carries weight. In Aknyang and the northern Dongting Lake region, they’ve got quite the reputation.”

Kwak Yeon felt warmth bloom in his chest as he listened. He could tell Chwi Dugae’s nagging was coming from genuine concern.
“I’m pissed off too, to be honest. That little punk from the clan focusing more on political maneuvering than martial arts—it’s sickening. But that’s something their elders need to straighten out within their own walls.”
As Chwi Dugae’s lecture grew longer, Kwak Yeon cut him off.

“I’ll make sure there’s nothing for you to worry about, Brother Hu-gai.”
“Really?”
Chwi Dugae eyed him with deep suspicion.

“Doesn’t feel that way to me.”
“I won’t be the one to pick the fight.”
 

****
“You still haven’t found that cave-dwelling bastard?!”
In the side building of Jinyang Pavilion, Danmok Cheong erupted in fury.

His face was so swollen it looked twice its normal size.
There was no way he could return to the clan looking like that, so even though the Hwayeong Assembly had already disbanded, he was still holed up in Jinyang Pavilion.
“We’re searching in every direction, Young Lord. We should find him soon. However…”

The Danmok Clan’s Third Commandant, Jin Heung, trailed off with a troubled expression.
“However what?”
“Judging by his martial level, he appears to be above Peak Realm. I apologize, but… rumors about him are not trivial.”

—KWAANG!
Danmok Cheong slammed the table.
“Samnyeonggung of Mount Wudang is nothing but a nest of cave freaks. Unlike the other Seven Palaces, they don’t have any decent martial arts. That bastard must’ve picked up some freak technique—or witchcraft.”

“…”
“If I hadn’t let my guard down, I would’ve flattened him. I was holding back ‘cause he was from Wudang—and the bastard suddenly struck first with some sneaky move…”
“…”

“In any case, find him immediately! If we don’t get revenge before what happened at Aknyang Pavilion spreads further, our Danmok Clan will become a laughingstock!”
Jin Heung was deeply concerned by the Young Lord’s tantrum.
In truth, he was only pretending to search for the so-called Cave Daoist.

He’d already judged the man to be far beyond their reach.
A quiet rumor had begun circulating—that Cave Daoist was the one who killed Jeong Waryong, head of the First Branch of the Jeong Clan.
If that was true, revenge wasn’t even worth dreaming of.

Unless they summoned the Danmok Clan’s full elite—or the Grand Elder himself took the field.
So for now, Jin Heung was stalling, waiting until the swelling in the Young Lord’s face went down so they could return quietly. Hopefully, by then, his fury would have cooled somewhat.
But that sensible plan was shattered in a single instant—by the shout of a guard who came crashing into the side residence.

“Young Lord! Rejoice! He—he walked in on his own!”
GULP.
Jin Heung nearly choked in horror.

“I saw it myself, with my own two eyes—he’s sitting in the inn’s dining hall, ordering drinks and food!”
Jin Heung watched helplessly as the hotheaded Young Lord sprang to his feet, sword in hand.
“Yes! Heaven favors Danmok Cheong today!”

Jin Heung, the Third Commandant, couldn’t bring himself to say it was divine abandonment, not divine favor.
“Everyone, follow me!”
The Danmok Clan’s bodyguards, stationed in the side building, all drew their weapons at once.

Danmok Cheong kicked open the doors of Jinyang Pavilion’s dining hall.
And there he saw the Cave Daoist sitting at a table by the window.
There was some beggar seated across from him, but in Danmok Cheong’s rage-blinded eyes, he might as well have not existed.

“You bastard Cave Daoist! You came crawling straight into Yongdam’s tiger maw of your own accord!”
Danmok Cheong’s guards stormed into the dining hall behind him.
The once-peaceful inn instantly plunged into chaos.

Frightened patrons left their food unfinished and bolted in terror. A few braver onlookers huddled in the corners, curious to see what would unfold.
The only ones left seated at a table were Kwak Yeon and Chwi Dugae.
Chwi Dugae couldn’t believe Danmok Cheong’s behavior.

‘How blind can a brat be?’
Even after getting thrashed like that, he still couldn’t recognize a master whose strength lay beyond the heavens.
‘The Danmok Clan’s downfall is already well underway. I thought they were on the verge of joining the Ten Great Clans, what with that so-called Divine Sword of Courtyard Sun as their Grand Elder...’

Kwak Yeon turned to Chwi Dugae and said,
“As you can see, I wasn’t the one who started this.”
Chwi Dugae sighed and nodded in defeat.

“Whatever your reason, just make sure this doesn’t damage the ties between Wudang and the Danmok Clan. Our sects share distant bonds.”
“I’ll keep your advice close to heart, Brother.”
Kwak Yeon rose from his seat by the window and walked forward to face Danmok Cheong and his warriors.

“Young Lord Danmok, after getting beaten like that yesterday, you’re saying it still wasn’t enough?”
Danmok Cheong’s swollen face flushed bright red.
“You damn Cave Daoist! I don’t care if you’re from the outer sect of Wudang—I won’t forgive you this time! I’ll drag you back to the main house and make you kneel in apology for ten—no, thirty years!”

And in that instant, his cheek lit up in flames.
—SMAACK!
“Gah! What the…?!”

By the time he reacted, Kwak Yeon had already struck his cheek and returned to his seat.
It was a mere one-jang distance—not far at all for masters. But Kwak Yeon’s movement had been so fast it defied the eye.
Danmok Cheong should have realized it then—that this was the last mercy Kwak Yeon would offer.

Even if he’d been seething with rage.
But Danmok Cheong was still in denial.
“This Cave Daoist bastard must be using some dirty sorcery! Everyone—charge and subdue him at once!”

Roaring with bravado, Danmok Cheong was soon sent flying in disgrace.
This time, he took more than ten strikes to the face—left unrecognizable, a complete wreck.
Not a single one of the Danmok Clan’s warriors, who had charged at Kwak Yeon on the Young Lord’s command, walked away unharmed. Every one of them had been dislocated or had a bone broken.

Only a handful of junior guards, who had hesitated due to prior experience, were still standing.
No longer able to watch, Jin Heung stepped in front of Kwak Yeon and bowed his head.
“Daoist Kwak, I beg you—for the sake of the old ties between the Danmok Clan and Wudang—please, forgive us here.”

Kwak Yeon nodded slightly.
“Gather your people and leave. Tell the Danmok Clan that this lay Daoist has held back out of consideration for Wudang’s stance.”
“I will relay that exactly.”

“And as I expect you already know—make sure this inn is compensated for the damages.”
Jin Heung immediately ordered the guards to collect the unconscious Young Lord and evacuate Jinyang Pavilion.
There was no time to wait for his swollen face to recover.

In fact, if they didn’t get him treated properly back at the clan estate soon, the Young Lord might never get his face back.
Once the Danmok Clan warriors fled as though running for their lives, Jinyang Pavilion quickly returned to normal.
The innkeeper brought out a lavish spread of food and wine to thank Kwak Yeon. Chwi Dugae’s grin stretched ear to ear.

“Hey! You’re telling me all this is free?!”
“…”
“Beating up a few punks and getting this kind of treatment—this is a thousand times better than begging!”

“Thinking of changing professions?”
“Perish the thought. My old master would rather eat dirt than watch me profit from hitting people. I’d be expelled from the guild.”
“Then should we return all this?”

“What are you talking about? You’re the one getting the reward. I’m just mooching off you.”
When Kwak Yeon chuckled, Chwi Dugae turned serious.
“Well, at least you didn’t kill anyone. That’s a relief. Though… I can’t help but worry, looking at what you did to the Young Lord.”

“…”
“So now tell me—why did you stir up this whole mess? I’m so curious, I can’t even enjoy this fine wine.”