Wudang Sacred Scriptures-Chapter 75

"Hey, old man."

Sa Duyeong, the Young Chief of the Black Snake Gang, called out in a loud voice toward the blind old musician.

“Don’t scowl like that. Your granddaughter’s just so pretty that I figured I’d ask her to pour me a drink. You’re a wanderer—you should know how things go. You wouldn’t want to get on the bad side of the local big shots, would you? Go on and tell your granddaughter to serve me a cup. Don’t worry, I’ll pay her well for it.”

“Young Chief, sir, my granddaughter is barely thirteen years old. And we’re performers—we would never do something like that...”

—Bang!

Sa Duyeong slammed his fist onto the table, hard enough to crack the wood, then let out a string of curses.

“Fuck! You and your granddaughter really know how to test a man’s patience. Hey, old man. Did I say I was gonna do something indecent to her? She’s just a good singer and easy on the eyes—I wanted her to pour me a drink, that’s all. So why the hell are you provoking me? Why? Why?!”

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Like a lunatic, Sa Duyeong kept hammering the table with his fists.

“Fine! Since you're treating me like a lowlife, I might as well act like one. Come here.”

Just as he reached to drag the girl into his lap—

“Namo Amitabha. Young Chief, please calm yourself.”

“Who the hell do you think you are—”

Sa Duyeong turned his head with a sneer, but stopped cold when he saw the young Daoist standing there in a flowing robe. A vivid Taiji symbol was emblazoned on the man’s chest.

Wudang Sect?

Even Sa Duyeong, as brazen as he was, knew better than to pick a fight in Geyang-hyeon, where Wudang’s influence loomed. His face twisted, and Kwak Yeon calmly spoke.

“From what I hear, Young Chief, you’re the heir to a rather prominent local faction. I doubt you’d want to be seen acting so disgracefully.”

Sa Duyeong’s face flushed red, then turned pale. One of his bodyguards leaned in and whispered in his ear.

“Young Chief, let it go. If you push this, the regional inspector might get involved.”

The Zhengwuguan—Wudang’s secular ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ enforcer stationed here—was a power player in Geyang-hyeon. They maintained a precarious balance with the Black Snake Gang. Sa Duyeong gritted his teeth and swallowed the string of curses that was about to burst out.

“You—are you really from Mount Wudang?”

“I am.”

Unable to provoke a Wudang Daoist, Sa Duyeong forced a more composed tone.

“I got a little drunk and let the moment get the better of me.”

Kwak Yeon, though seething inside, responded coolly since his opponent had conceded.

“Then you should apologize—not to me, but to the old musician and his granddaughter over there.”

The girl, freed from his grip the moment Kwak Yeon intervened, had already run to her grandfather’s side.

Veins popped on Sa Duyeong’s forehead.

Kwak Yeon stood still, calm but poised to act. If provoked further, he wouldn’t hesitate to discipline the man then and there.

But instead...

Sa Duyeong turned to the girl and the old man and spoke.

“I was... too carried away by drink. My behavior was unbecoming.”

Kwak Yeon, noting the restraint, spoke again.

“Your drink has gone cold, and the mood’s clearly broken. Perhaps it’s time you took your leave, Young Chief?”

A polite way of telling him to get lost.

Sa Duyeong had already lost face. He stood up, brushing off his robe.

“Since you’re from Wudang, I suppose I have no choice but to do as I’m told.”

It was his way of saying, I’m only letting this slide because you’re Wudang.

As he turned to leave with his entourage, Sa Duyeong glanced back at Kwak Yeon.

“By the way, Daoist, what’s your name? We’ve shared an encounter—it seems only right I should remember it.”

The implication was clear: One day, I’ll repay this.

Kwak Yeon replied evenly.

“I’m a lay Daoist of the Three Spirits Palace. I don’t have a Daoist name.”

“Three Spirits Palace... a lay Daoist?”

Sa Duyeong’s expression contorted.

He was no stranger to Wudang. A thug raised in its shadow, he knew full well what that meant.

Not a true disciple. Not even from one of the core palaces. Three Spirits Palace—one of the least-known among Wudang’s eight branches.

Shit.

There was no undoing what had just happened. He couldn’t exactly reignite the conflict now—not without looking like a fool.

“So then, what’s your given name, lay Daoist?”

“Call me Kwak Yeon.”

“Kwak Yeon... Like the word for swallow. Easy enough to remember.”

“I hope you do.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I will.”

Sa Duyeong gave a long, meaningful smirk and left, the chill of his exit stirring the air. Only then did the rest of the tavern breathe again.

“He’s a damn thug through and through.”

“Honestly, his lackeys are worse than he is.”

“No way that bastard lets this go...”

The murmurs swirled around the room like dust.

Through the low hum of gossip, the old blind musician and his granddaughter approached Kwak Yeon.

“Dear, where’s the kind Daoist?”

“He’s right in front of you, Grandfather.”

The blind old man bowed deeply.

“Sir Daoist, we owe you our safety tonight. Thank you.”

“As one who walks the Dao, I simply did what was right. And I am no proper Daoist—just call me Layman Kwak. This is a token of my appreciation for your performance.”

The girl gasped.

“Five silver taels? That’s... that’s far too much!”

Hearing that, the old man also hurried to speak.

“Sir Daoist, we couldn’t possibly accept such a sum. Your kindness is enough—”

Though Kwak Yeon had said he wasn’t a Daoist, the old man insisted on the title. Likely out of heartfelt gratitude.

“It’s not just thanks for the music. It’s to help you leave town. That Young Chief’s tone suggested he might still cause trouble.”

“Even so, it’s too generous—”

“Then think of it as an advance. If we meet again someday, play your guqin and sing for me as much as you like.”

He pressed the coins into the girl’s palms, then turned to the tavern keeper and handed him a silver tael.

“Please take these two out the back door. If you escort them past the city gate, I’ll give you another.”

“Oh, no need for silver, sir! We’re just as sick of those bastards.”

The tavern keeper’s face soured as he continued.

“We tried to stop the girl from performing—knew trouble would come with those scoundrels around. But she was so young, we thought there’d be no harm. We never imagined that degenerate would stoop so low, even to a child.”

“So I take it the Young Chief has quite the reputation for misbehavior.”

“Oh, don’t even get me started. You wouldn’t believe how many women in Geyang-hyeon have suffered at that bastard’s hands. He’s earned himself the nickname ‘the rabid dog in heat.’ His Black Snake Gang is the second most powerful force in town after the Zhengwuguan, and when it comes to the back-alley business, they’re the top dogs. Even the authorities don’t mess with them lightly. Ah—anyway, this isn’t the time for chit-chat. Achil! Come here, boy!”

“Yes, Chief!”

A boy of about thirteen or fourteen came trotting over at once.

“You heard what’s going on, didn’t you? Skip the city gate. Use that little doghole you and the others always sneak through.”

“Got it!”

The innkeeper turned to Kwak Yeon.

“Achil here used to run these alleys like a little king—he knows every back road and hidden turn in town. Daoist, you should go with them through the rear exit. I’ll bet anything they’ve got men waiting for you outside.”

“That’s exactly why I intend to leave through the front.”

“Pardon?”

“They need to see me leave. That’s the only way the other two will make it out clean.”

“Then what about you, sir?”

“I’m still someone who trained on Mount Wudang. They won’t dare cross the line too easily—rest assured.”

Kwak Yeon looked at the sharp-eyed boy and said,

“Achil, I’m counting on you. This silver is yours—use it to treat your boys to something nice.”

Accepting the silver tael with both hands, Achil looked up at him with admiration.

“Daoist... you’re a real man.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re the manliest man I’ve ever seen. That’s all.”

Kwak Yeon smiled faintly, remembering he’d once been that age too, thinking and speaking the same way.

“Then be a man and do your job well.”

“No worries, sir. I’m a man too.”

“Then wait until I’ve stepped out and count to thirty before you go.”

Kwak Yeon ruffled the boy’s hair and strode toward the tavern’s main entrance.

As expected, he immediately felt eyes on him—blatant and unashamed.

He wondered how it was that thugs always behaved so predictably. Just as he thought, they moved to block off the alley, herding him in the direction they wanted.

When a Black Snake Gang goon stationed at the crossroads jerked his chin toward a side street, Kwak Yeon followed without resistance.

The gang members tailed him like a pack of wolves corralling a lone traveler.

At the end of the alley, the Young Chief Sa Duyeong was waiting, his henchmen having already cleared out the area to avoid witnesses.

So he wants to deal with me cleanly and out of sight, does he?

Just what Kwak Yeon had hoped for.

It would have been a little awkward to beat a man senseless in broad daylight, especially while wearing a Wudang robe.

Sa Duyeong, wearing a twisted grin, greeted him.

“Well, well. Lay Daoist from the Reclusive Cave—we meet again so soon.”

“Seems the Young Chief is a rather impatient man.”

“Impatient? Nah—I’ve just got a terrible memory. Figured I’d better see you again before I forgot your name.”

He rose slowly to his feet and continued,

“No need to get all tense. You are from Wudang, after all—I wouldn’t want to treat you too harshly.”

He spread his legs apart.

“So here’s what you’re gonna do: apologize properly, then crawl between my legs. I won’t make you bark like a dog in the middle of the marketplace like I do with others. Consider that a courtesy to Wudang’s dignity.”

“You’re even more vile than I imagined.”

“What...?”

“You really should’ve kept your mouth shut. If you had, I’d have stopped at breaking a bone or two.”

Sa Duyeong turned to his goons, incredulous.

“Did this brat from the caves just threaten me?”

“He doesn’t know his place,” one sneered. “Refused your drink, now he’s asking for a beating.”

“No need to show restraint now, sir,” said another. “Didn’t we say mutts who bark without knowing fear need a good thrashing?”

“Exactly. That’s how they learn what fear is,” chimed a third.

Sa Duyeong nodded thoughtfully at their words.

“You’re not wrong. But even my old man said—whatever you do, don’t touch anyone from Wudang first. I’ve already given plenty of leeway. He won’t complain about this.”

“Of course not. Besides, the guy’s just a no-name lay cultivator from the Reclusive Cave—Wudang doesn’t even care about those types. No one’s watching. Erasing him quietly is simple enough.”

At that, the goons unsheathed their blades.

Sa Duyeong gave a chilling smile as he looked back at Kwak Yeon.

“Don’t blame me for what happens. I gave you a chance.”

Kwak Yeon replied calmly.

“Young Chief, do you know what your problem is?”

“...What?”

“You’re the textbook definition of a petty man—big body, small mind.”

“You son of a bitch.”

“Look at you now, throwing a tantrum like a spoiled ten-year-old. My guess? Your father never disciplined you properly.”

“You cocky little bastard!”

The one thing Sa Duyeong couldn’t stand hearing—that he hadn’t grown up.

“Kill him! No mercy!”