Wudang Sacred Scriptures

Kwak Yeon briefly wondered if he’d misheard her.

But the earnest look in Joo Yeoryeong’s eyes confirmed he’d heard her correctly.
This woman… she’s genuinely worried about me.
Which meant that old woman truly would try to kill him.

What the hell…
Of everything he had encountered since entering the martial world, this was by far the most absurd situation.
Even the strange stories he’d heard from the Azure Sun Swordsman, Hong Sucheon—tales he’d thought too bizarre to believe—paled in comparison.

Who exactly are this girl and that old woman? And what kind of lunacy are they involved in?
There was no use getting hung up on unanswerable questions. If he were truly determined to shake this woman off, he could lose her a hundred different ways.
But the memory of that intense gaze, the one Joo Yeoryeong had shown, and his curiosity about the old woman gnawed at him.

And on top of that…
Her vibrant traveling attire and striking beauty—it did catch his attention just a bit.
If that old woman had been forced to leave her disciple in a rush and entrusted her to him, that might explain things—somewhat.
Maybe she ran into a dangerous foe she couldn’t handle, or maybe her sect was in grave danger and she had to return alone in haste.

If something bad were to happen to her disciple because he hadn’t helped, the old woman could reasonably blame him.
In that case, wouldn’t a proper, polite request have sufficed?
Or maybe… she’s the type who just can’t bring herself to ask for favors.

Hong Sucheon had once said that the higher a master’s standing in the martial world, the more pride and unnecessary ego they tended to carry.
If that old woman is one of those types… then even sending her personal disciple with a wordless message was probably no small gesture.
Just one extra phrase—‘Please take care of her’—and none of this would be confusing.

Still, if something happened to this young lady, Kwak Yeon would feel guilty about it.
He recalled the moment he’d locked eyes with that powerful old master on the third floor of the teahouse.
So that’s why she stared at me so intensely. Trying to decide if I was worthy of entrusting her disciple to.

He’d been snared without even realizing it.
And yet, he couldn’t exactly take responsibility for this strange burden… but neither could he simply walk away from it.
“Hm…?”

As Kwak Yeon was still wrestling with the situation, he spotted the constable who had finished processing the refugees at the dock walking away.
But instead of heading toward the local district office, the constable veered off—entering the same teahouse as before.
Kwak Yeon recalled the silk-robed martial artist he’d seen earlier watching the ferry from that very place.

Something’s going on.
With a sudden sense of unease, he turned to Joo Yeoryeong.
“Miss Joo, are you hungry?”
“What kind of random question is that?”

“It’s hardly fitting to keep talking while standing in the street. And it’s nearly dinner time.”
Joo Yeoryeong let out a short laugh.
“So the Taoist isn’t completely dense after all.”

Kwak Yeon furrowed his brow.
Every word from her mouth has barbs.
He hurried toward the teahouse.

Walking in with a woman would draw less attention, which was why he’d invited her in the first place.
And sure enough, it proved to be the right call.
“Welcome!”

When the young man and woman stepped in, the martial artists momentarily glanced their way, then lost interest.
Instead, they were greeted with a server’s loud enthusiasm.
“I’ve never seen a more perfect pair in my life! What a fine-looking young couple you are!”

“A window seat, if you please. The young lady suffers from asthma.”
“Oh, poor thing! Fresh air is the best thing for asthma. Right this way, please!”
Kwak Yeon followed the server, paying no mind to whether Joo Yeoryeong was bewildered by being declared an asthma patient.

Their seats were not far from the silk-robed martial artist and the constable.
“What can I get for this radiant young couple?”
Kwak Yeon turned to Joo Yeoryeong.

“Order whatever you like.”
“My, you’re not just an average fellow. I take it you’ve done this kind of thing many times before?”
Her sarcasm irritated him, but he didn’t respond.

“Hey, uncle—what’s the chef best known for? Or rather, what’s the most expensive dish?”
“Ah, the Blue Blossom Stewed Fish is the priciest—and a true delicacy. As for appetizers…”
While Joo Yeoryeong and the server chatted about food, Kwak Yeon quietly activated his internal energy and tuned his senses to the conversation nearby.

Soon, the voices of the silk-robed martial artist and the constable reached his ears clearly.
“My lord, just as you suspected, the refugees who arrived on today’s scheduled ferry are all headed to Sangjeon Village.”
The martial artist nodded.

“Of course they are.”
“I recorded everything carefully, just as you ordered. Even checked each of their identity tags.”
The constable placed a ledger in front of the martial artist.

“Well done. Share the reward with the constables who helped.”
The martial artist pulled out a voucher. The constable hesitated with his mouth but accepted it quickly with his hands.
“There’s no need for that… but I’ll gladly accept it.”

“I’ll expect the same diligence when the next ferry arrives.”
“But of course. This was a direct order from the district magistrate himself.”
“Let the magistrate know I’ll meet with him soon.”

“I’ll pass the message along.”
The martial artist stood, and the constable quickly stood and bowed deeply.
Surrounded by his escorts, the martial artist exited the teahouse.

The constable remained bent over for a while, but when he finally straightened, they were already gone.
Smiling faintly, he pulled out the voucher and slipped it into his coat, then headed toward the teahouse’s exit.
Kwak Yeon quietly rose from his seat.

“Oh? Where are you going?” Joo Yeoryeong asked sharply, reminding him she was still there.
“I’ve got something to check on.”
“What kind of thing? Ah!”

She frowned.
“You’re not trying to ditch me, are you?”
“If I wanted to leave, I’d say so. Besides, I’ve done nothing wrong to you—why would I run?”

“Well, go on then.”
Just a few steps in, he heard her mutter behind him.
“That Cave Daoist… every time he opens his mouth, he says something weird.”

Hmph…
Kwak Yeon silently cursed his own decision to keep his senses open.
Not wanting to stir up further chatter, he asked the server for the restroom and headed toward the teahouse’s back exit.

As soon as he stepped outside, he leapt to the roof.
From there, he scanned the market street for the constable.
There he is.

Constable Gu Chun-yang was in a fine mood. He always made a tidy profit on ferry days.
He had no intention of sharing the bribe.
Whistling to himself, Gu Chun-yang strolled cheerfully, planning to get utterly drunk at a brothel.

He turned into a shortcut alley toward his favorite establishment—but soon found his way blocked by a lone young man.
Hm?
The youth looked vaguely familiar.

“Wait… weren’t you the young couple at the teahouse…?”
Gu Chun-yang’s eyes sharpened.
“Looks like a stray cat’s found the fish basket. Too bad for you—I’m an officer of the district office.”

“And what do you want me to do about that?” Kwak Yeon replied, sweeping his long robe aside to reveal the Cheonggang Sword.
“Ghk!”
“Let’s not make this difficult. I have no interest in that stinking voucher of yours.”

“……Then what do you want?”
“The man you met earlier—who was he?”
“Why do you want to know that?”

Kwak Yeon casually flicked a small stone with the tip of his toe and caught it in his hand.
—Crackle!
When he opened his palm and turned it over, the stone crumbled into dust and fell through his fingers.

Constable Gu Chun-yang’s eyes widened in terror.
“I don’t have time, so I’ll ask for your cooperation.”
“…Understood.”

Gu Chun-yang nodded fervently.
“Who is he?”
“Lord Sangwan Jin-ho! He’s the Branch Leader of the Sangwan Clan’s Deokseong Prefecture Branch!”

“And what business does the Sangwan Clan have conducting background checks on refugees?”
“I… don’t really know. The district magistrate ordered me to cooperate, so I just—”
“You don’t really know?”

Kwak Yeon lightly brushed a hand across the cloth wrapped around the Cheonggang Sword as he spoke.
“Which means you know a little. So tell me what you do know.”
“It’s only speculation, but… it seems like the Sangwan Clan is planning something in Sangjeon Village.”

“……”
As Kwak Yeon silently stared at him, Gu Chun-yang hurriedly continued.
“They told us to thoroughly question whether any of the refugees were in debt. So I figured it might have something to do with that. That’s all I really know, I swear.”

Kwak Yeon was slightly disappointed.
He had already suspected this had to do with Sangjeon Village. All he had really confirmed was that the silk-robed martial artist was affiliated with the Sangwan Clan.
“What’s your name?”

“Why…?”
Gu Chun-yang instinctively responded as a constable would, then quickly bit his tongue.
Surely this man wasn’t asking for his name to become friends.

“M-my name is Gu… Gu Chun-yang.”
“Brother Gu, wherever you go, I’d suggest not mentioning that you met me.”
“Understood.”

By the time Gu Chun-yang looked up from his bow, the young man was gone.
He felt as if he’d just encountered a ghost.
When Kwak Yeon returned to the teahouse, it had turned into a complete mess.

The once-bustling space was now empty, with /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ men groaning on the floor in various states of defeat.
Joo Yeoryeong, meanwhile, sat calmly by the window, completely unbothered.
She glared at Kwak Yeon and said,

“What kind of business takes that long?”
“What happened here?”
“This is all your fault.”

“…?”
“I was sitting here alone for so long, those guys started bothering me. Saying I looked lonely, saying I had a noble, tragic beauty or whatever.”
She had taken down six grown men by herself. Judging by the well-maintained blades lying scattered around the floor, they weren’t just some random street thugs, either.

While Kwak Yeon and Joo Yeoryeong exchanged words, the groaning men slowly picked themselves up and began limping toward the door.
The last one to reach the threshold turned and shouted,
“You bastards! You dare mess with our Cheongya Faction?! We’ll make you pay for this!”

Then he ran off without looking back.
“Well? What are you waiting for?”
“What do you mean?”

“You’re just going to let that guy get away with insulting you like that?”
Joo Yeoryeong asked because Kwak Yeon’s reaction didn’t match the information she’d been given.
He’s supposed to never tolerate insults to his face…

“Miss Joo, dogs that bark don’t bite.”
“…?”
At the moment, Kwak Yeon was far more preoccupied with the Sangwan Clan.

He had no desire to chase down some back-alley faction’s lackeys. Besides, if they truly held a grudge, they’d come back on their own.
“Let’s eat.”
“I thought you ran off because you were scared or something.”

“……”
“Where did you go, anyway?”
“Something suddenly came up that I had to look into.”

“And? Did you get your answers?”
“More or less.”
Joo Yeoryeong gave him a hard look, then nodded.

“Well, good. Since you’re rude and completely lacking in consideration.”
“Miss Joo, isn’t that a bit harsh to say to someone’s face?”
“I’m honestly glad. That was a sincere compliment.”

“…?”
“You’ll understand what I mean later—because that’s what sincerity is.”