Wudang Sacred Scriptures Chapter 53

Kwak Yeon had expected he’d soon be shedding his role as a Daoist Attendant, so he stood without hesitation.

“You will offer three formal bows.”

Kwak Yeon blinked in surprise. He had always believed that the disciple’s bowing ceremony before a master involved nine bows.

“Daoist Hyehae, why only three...?”

“Just follow the instruction and bow.”

At his teacher’s stern voice, Kwak Yeon had no choice but to perform the three bows.

“The disciple’s salutation requires only three. As of today, you are the First Disciple of this palace.”

Kwak Yeon’s eyes widened.

“Daoist Hyehae...?”

“You may now address as First Brother.”

Daoist Hyehae continued in a calm, even tone.

“Our master has given you the Dao na Hyeonmu. But knowing that your heart does not fully lie with this palace, he has chosen to register you as a Daoist of the world rather than a formal monastic.”

Kwak Yeon didn’t fully understand, so Daoist Hyehae clarified.

“A Daoist with a Dao na ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) who remains outside the monastery—what the Seven Palaces of the External Sect call a lay disciple. However, since you’ll be training here, we make no distinction between Daoist and layman. Your conduct must reflect that.”

In the tradition of the One Line of Daoist Transmission, there was little division among disciples. Those who trained while living in the monastery were called Daoists; those who trained while living in the secular world were called lay Daoists. Hyehae’s comparison was entirely accurate.

Kwak Yeon realized that the Palace Lord, Daoist Unseon, had made this arrangent to let him pursue martial cultivation without compromising the sacredness of Three Spirits Palace.

He was deeply moved—but also a little confused.

Why go so far as to na the First Disciple?

Noticing his uncertain expression, Daoist Hyehae said,

“This is Master’s decision, so you will follow it, Hyeonmu.”

Kwak Yeon had never imagined he would receive such kindness. Moved, he asked,

“When will I be able to et the Palace Lord?”

He wanted to perform the full disciple’s salutation and thank her in person.

But—

“You’ve already t her, Hyeonmu, though you may not have known it. The Palace Lord will remain in retreat for the ti being. When the ti cos, she’ll summon you for the salutation. Don’t rush.”

Kwak Yeon gradually began extending his hours of cultivation inside the Immortal’s Room.

It was a ti of overwhelming pain. One might expect it to beco easier with ti, but it never did.

The only comfort was that the door remained unlocked—he could leave at any ti.

“Little Master, heading there again today?”

Cheongmu’s question was t with a nod.

“Yes.”

The only thing that had changed since Kwak Yeon beca the First Disciple was how Cheongmu addressed him.

“Little Master, how’s that itchy thing coming along?”

Cheongmu was positively delighted that Kwak Yeon, now technically his senior, had beco a figure he could look up to—perhaps because the forr senior, Daoist Hyeonin, had always been intimidating and hard to approach.

Since Daoist Hyehae had instructed Cheongmu to call Kwak Yeon Little Master, he’d been saying it nonstop.

“It’s grown a little.”

Still not enough to circulate Qi, but it was visible progress. From the size of a millet grain to a bean—it was sothing.

“You’re amazing, Little Master. I couldn’t even handle half a cycle in there.”

Cheongmu suddenly held out a bowl of herbal decoction.

“Drink this before you go. I spotted so reishi while gathering firewood yesterday.”

“Cheongmu-hyung, you don’t have to go out of your way to find things for .”

“I didn’t! I really didn’t!”

“...”

“Just drink it and get it over with. Today I’ll teach you how to gather wind into your palm.”

The white porcelain bowl only made the dirt under Cheongmu’s nails stand out more.

Knowing he wouldn’t be allowed to leave until he drank it, Kwak Yeon reluctantly reached for the bowl.

“Cheongmu-hyung... why is today’s decoction so bitter? And kind of... fishy?”

He was trying to hint that Cheongmu should wash his hands more often, without outright saying it.

“Fishy? Oh! That must be because of that guy.”

That guy?

Alard by the ominous phrasing, Kwak Yeon had to ask.

“What do you an by that guy?”

“It’s nothing. Just that a snake happened to be coiled around the reishi root.”

“Wait—you didn’t boil it together with the snake, did you?”

“Of course I did. I feel bad giving you nothing but roots all the ti. That was a real treat.”

Kwak Yeon was appalled.

He didn’t doubt Cheongmu’s knowledge of herbs, but snakes were an entirely different matter.

“What did the snake look like?”

“I think it had eaten so of the reishi. Its head was red.”

A red-headed snake.

Red-Headed Viper.

One of the deadliest of the deadly.

“You did take out the venom glands... right?”

“Obviously! I’m not an idiot.”

At least that was a relief. If Cheongmu had forgotten sothing that basic...

Ugh. From now on, I’m asking what’s in the bowl before I drink it. I’m not about to drop dead from “health food.”

Kwak Yeon stood before the iron door of the Immortal’s Room.

It was always the sa.

That eerie, desolate aura.

Staring at the pitch-black iron door, he couldn’t help but resent his cursed condition.

If only his body could circulate Qi like everyone else—he wouldn’t have to suffer through this hellish agony.

And still, he had no answer for why his Innate Energy was so strong. The frustration never left him.

But he tried to see the silver lining.

The larger the vessel, the more Internal Energy he could store.

The problem was... no one knew how long that would take.

On his very first day inside the Immortal’s Room, Kwak Yeon had been hopeful. He thought that if he perford Tai Chi Energy Circulation in there, he would be able to gather Internal Energy in earnest.

Back when he was first trapped inside, all he had done was run the Celestial ridian Map through his mind—yet even that had been enough to spark the beginning of energy refinent.

Now, with proper seated ditation, he hoped to reap the true fruits of cultivation.

But the pain remained unchanged, and no matter how diligently he sat in ditation, the growth of his Internal Energy was agonizingly slow.

It wasn’t as though it wasn’t growing—on the contrary, it grew steadily without stopping—but it wasn’t what he had hoped for. Disappointnt was inevitable.

They said once you felt the energy condense into a single mass, that was roughly a year’s worth of cultivation. In that case, what Kwak Yeon had now didn’t even amount to six months.

Compared to the days when he couldn’t cultivate at all, it was a definite improvent. But even so, the frustration lingered.

Maybe it’s the Tai Chi Energy Circulation that’s slowing down. Would another thod be faster?

By now, Seok Jangsan and the others had likely already moved on to higher-level inner cultivation techniques.

They say the heart of man is fickle—sit down, and you want to lie down.

Still, he tried to be thankful for what he had.

Just keep walking. One step at a ti.

Kwak Yeon shook off his disappointnt.

He believed that if he kept at it, he would eventually reach his original goal—being able to circulate Internal Energy through his ridians.

I guess I’d pinned more hope on Seok Jangsan’s “late bloor” talk than I realized.

Then it hit him—he was falling into the sa delusion all martial artists faced at the beginning. That fantasy of becoming the strongest.

I can’t let myself get swept up in that kind of empty dream.

He reminded himself: martial arts were only ant to protect himself, and protect his family.

But circulating Internal Energy—that, he refused to give up on.

Lately, his desire had only grown stronger.

He was now receiving all kinds of instruction on internal force from Daoist Cheongmu.

Kwak Yeon had already noticed it: the movents Cheongmu demonstrated weren’t just quirks—they were actual manifestations of internal techniques.

Before his ti at Yeongmudang, Kwak Yeon had studied the Internal Force Compendium, learning the theoretical foundations of various techniques. Though he had never trained them himself.

And now, Cheongmu was using them effortlessly in daily life.

He would assess weight through Grasping Force, squeeze oil with Crushing Force, locate buried mushrooms using Adhesive Force, and even light fires with Refining Force.

Kwak Yeon understood just how advanced and impressive all of it was.

It confird what he’d already suspected—before his breakdown, Cheongmu must have been a truly elite martial artist.

However, Cheongmu couldn’t explain any of it in structured terms. He didn’t recite formulas or mnemonics.

He just said, “That’s how it works. It just happens.”

What he could do, though, was trace the paths of energy through the body—pointing to each acupuncture point and ridian in turn.

And Kwak Yeon, with his deep understanding of ridian theory, could imdiately grasp what Cheongmu ant with each motion.

He could even identify which internal technique it was.

That only made his body ache with yearning.

If only he had enough Internal Energy, he could actually try out these techniques instead of just morizing them in his head.

The frustration was maddening.

That was why he had been pushing himself harder, staying longer inside the Immortal’s Room despite the pain.

Even so, his cultivation barely crawled forward.

At this rate, I could spend a lifeti and still not make it.

To even attempt internal techniques, he would need at least half a Jiazi of Internal Energy.

Half a Jiazi—thirty years of accumulated power—was known as the Manifest Qi realm. One could channel Internal Energy into their sword, and be recognized as a first-rate martial artist.

A full Jiazi—sixty years of cultivation—led to the Ejected Qi realm, where one could project their sword energy outward. This was the realm of the elite, the so-called "Pinnacle Masters."

It was said that the Pinnacle was the highest level one could reach through sheer effort alone in a lifeti of martial arts.

Beyond that—beyond the Pinnacle—was a world attainable only through miraculous encounters and fate.

For soone like Kwak Yeon, who struggled even to refine energy, he wasn’t aiming for Pinnacle. He would be satisfied with thirty years' worth—with just Manifest Qi.

But even that, by the numbers, ant he’d have to keep going until he was ninety.

Not only was that a life sentence in hellish pain, it wasn’t even guaranteed he’d live that long.

A fierce thirst burned inside him.

All of it—every single problem—would be solved if he could just build enough Internal Energy.

If you’re thirsty, dig a well.

Kwak Yeon pulled open the iron door of the Immortal’s Room.

Ssssshh—!

As though it had been waiting for him, a vicious wave of cold swept out.

Stepping once more into the hellish Yin-Cold Energy, his body instinctively recoiled.

It was like running a race with no finish line. And there wasn’t even a martial master to ask for directions.

Then, shivering, he realized sothing—he had forgotten that the Immortal’s Room alternated between Yin-Cold and Heatfire energies.

Wait... Yin and Yang.

The Tai Chi Energy Circulation alternated between the Conception Vessel and the Governing Vessel.

The Conception Vessel governed Yang energy.

The Governing Vessel governed Yin energy.

What if... during the Yin-Cold phase, I circulate only through the Governing Vessel, and during the Heatfire phase, only through the Conception Vessel?

That day, the amount of energy stored in his Dantian surged.

From then on, he could feel it—his Internal Energy was growing by the day.

And finally, he felt sothing solid in his lower abdon. A firm core.

A year’s worth of cultivation!

Just one month ago, he had barely built up six months’ worth—and now, it was swelling like a snowball downhill.

If this pace keeps up...!

Kwak Yeon was overflowing with hope.

"Innate Energy is like a furnace. The bigger the furnace, the more impurities it has to burn off, leaving less behind. But that also ans the Internal Energy you do keep is pure. And pure energy—while harder to build—grows like snow once it takes root."

That was true...! That wasn’t just Master Hyehae’s attempt to comfort !

That night, after erging from the Immortal’s Room, Kwak Yeon stood under the starlight and for the first ti in a long while, unfolded the Nine Palms Form.

Very faintly, he could now circulate his energy through both hands—forming a connected thread between them.