Wudang Sacred Scriptures

“I don’t want to teach such weak-willed disciples.”

In Yeongmudang (Outer Martial Hall), the orders of the head instructor were absolute.
There was no overturning them.
Hyeonmun Dojang bellowed at the new disciples.

“You have ten days. Anyone who fails to reach the first level of Geon-gon Gu-gong will be held back as a group.”
Being held back meant they wouldn’t be allowed to advance to other foundational martial arts training.
It also meant drifting further from the dream of becoming an elite disciple.

Kwak Yeon had no choice but to leave the training hall.
Since he wasn’t allowed to carry a wooden sphere, he had no way to practice Geon-gon Gu-gong separately.
Hyeonmun Dojang’s harshness puzzled him.

But this time, it was his own fault.
He had been too fixated on Taiji Internal Arts, when even focusing solely on Geon-gon Gu-gong wouldn’t have been enough.
‘I rushed Taiji Internal Arts. It’s not something that can be forced.’

There was a reason they had only provided the Taiji Internal Arts formulas and methods without allowing dedicated training time—it wasn’t something that could yield results in a short period.
‘For now, I should have focused entirely on Geon-gon Gu-gong.’
It was the same during Byeong-rank training. He had been too absorbed in meridian studies and was reprimanded by the library keeper.

‘No need to be discouraged. Maybe this is a chance to reflect instead.’
Kwak Yeon started practicing Cheonji Palhwangbo without the wooden sphere.
Even though it was considered a basic footwork technique, it was still challenging.

Not to mention, the real task was to throw the sphere into the air and step through the sequence of movements before it fell.
‘So this is also about internalizing it through practice.’
Otherwise, there would be no reason to require them to throw the sphere.
But at most, it only stayed in the air for about three chon-gak (a fraction of a second). Narrowing it down to less than half a gak was impossible.

‘Is this really achievable?’
If it were truly impossible, they wouldn’t have been ordered to do it.
But no matter how fast he moved, reducing the time to even a fraction of a gak seemed beyond reach.

‘Unless I had internal energy…’
In other words, he either needed to internalize the technique fully or possess inner strength.
Internalization would take years of training, and Taiji Internal Arts hadn’t even allowed him to sense the slightest hint of qi yet.

No matter how much he pushed himself, it was physically impossible.
That was why the other disciples were groaning in frustration.
At least he had the advantage of his meridian training, which slightly improved his recovery.

‘The Celestial Meridian Map!’
A memory surfaced—the time he had superimposed the Celestial Meridian Map onto his body and saw tangible results.
Simply by correcting his posture, Ha Gang’s kicks had gained significant speed. He had only adjusted his stance to prevent his meridians from being blocked, yet the difference had been clear.

‘Then maybe…!’
As he performed Cheonji Palhwangbo, Kwak Yeon visualized the Celestial Meridian Map and observed his movements.
“Ah!”

Sure enough, every movement corresponded to an opening of a meridian point.
So that was the hidden principle behind it.
‘That’s why Cheonji Palhwangbo is called the foundation of Jeon-unjong, the ascending supreme technique.’

It was designed to fully open the meridians.
Realizing this deepened his enthusiasm.
Moreover, by focusing on keeping his meridians open, he found himself naturally transitioning into the next movement.

‘That’s why we need to extend our steps fully to execute the ten-step sequence properly!’
His time to complete the thirty-six-step sequence had significantly decreased.
And it wasn’t because he was consciously trying.

By focusing on keeping his meridians open, his body instinctively knew what the next movement should be.
Conscious thought only made things more difficult.
After fully understanding the thirty-six steps of Cheonji Palhwangbo, Kwak Yeon mentally envisioned throwing the sphere high into the air.

Then, he began executing Cheonji Palhwangbo.
“Ah!”
His time had clearly decreased—proving that it was possible.

As he reveled in the breakthrough, a question suddenly arose.
‘Would someone like Hyeonmun Dojang really be unaware of this principle?’
If the instructors had explained this from the beginning, wouldn’t the new disciples have adapted much faster?

It was unthinkable that martial arts masters wouldn’t know this.
From a high enough level of mastery, the principles should be clear.
But that was Kwak Yeon’s misconception.

Masters like Hyeonmun Dojang hadn’t trained from the ground up. Their natural talent had allowed them to execute Geon-gon Gu-gong instinctively.
In other words, they had internalized it through sheer aptitude alone.
Thus, they had never needed to analyze its fundamental principles. For them, meridians naturally opened.

Even the founder of Geon-gon Gu-gong hadn’t devised it through theoretical study. He had simply realized that it was the best way to develop foundational footwork and built the technique around that understanding.
If it had been designed to teach ordinary people, it wouldn’t have been Wudang’s martial art in the first place.
The very idea of Wudang deliberately creating techniques for the uninitiated was absurd.

That was why Yeongmudang existed—to train disciples who didn’t possess natural talent.
From the beginning, there had been no way for those disciples to be taught directly at Jinmugwan. They simply couldn’t keep up.
Yeongmudang was a necessary compromise, an institution for nurturing general disciples.

That was why no one had high expectations for them.
When dinnertime arrived, Kwak Yeon shared his discovery with Seok Jangsan.
“What?! I thought you’d be sulking in a corner after being kicked out, but you were actually analyzing this?”

“I’m being serious. What do you think?”
“Why does my opinion matter? You already tested it yourself.”
“Because you’re different from the rest of us. No, different from me.”

Seok Jangsan stared at him silently.
“You figured it out, huh?”
Kwak Yeon nodded.

“Yeah.”
“Since when?”
“Back when you talked about natural-born aptitude. That’s not something you’d say unless you were aware of it yourself.”

“You cunning bastard.”
“…….”
“You should’ve just told me. You made me worry for nothing.”

Seok Jangsan’s talent was exceptional.
Even his father, the head of the Seok Clan, acknowledged it.
Seok Jangsan had no trouble executing Geon-gon Gu-gong. But he kept his skills in check to match the progress of the other new disciples—if he showed too much talent, it would only demoralize them.

Especially Kwak Yeon.
“Well, at least now I feel a bit better.”
“Hey, I wasn’t asking to make you feel better. I wanted the opinion of a genius like you.”

“I’m not a genius. Just a little more skilled than the average person. The real monsters are out there somewhere.”
Kwak Yeon’s eyes widened.
“There are people even more talented than you?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised.”
Seok Jangsan dodged the question.
There was no need to burden Kwak Yeon with feelings of inferiority by mentioning the monstrous talents of the Later Heavens’ Prodigies.

"Anyway, it definitely works. The more I use the footwork, the smoother it feels. It should definitely shorten the learning time."
"Then I should share it with everyone."
"What? You confirmed this with me just so you could teach the others?"

"If it only worked for me, I wouldn't want to mess up their training, right?"
"Heh, you're impossible. This is still a competition to get selected, you know."
"We're all fellow disciples of the Main Sect. What does it matter? If we improve together, that’s better for everyone. You thought the same, didn’t you?"

"I only did it because I felt guilty towards you."
"It’s the same thing. Fifty steps or a hundred, we’re still walking the same path."
"Hah!"

"Anyway, from now on, train at your full ability."
"…?"
"If even a dragon rises from a humble stream, it’ll surely put the Sect Leader in his place."

"Seriously, I should be careful not to get on your bad side."
The new disciples had already turned their attention to the two of them.
It was natural—they had been speaking quietly, but in the silence, their conversation stood out.

"Kwak Yeon, are you really going to share that method with us?"
Kwak Yeon nodded.
"If you want to learn it."

"Hey! Thanks, man."
"No need to thank me. You would have figured it out eventually. I just happened to discover it first, so I’m sharing it."
The new disciples understood that Kwak Yeon was simply being humble.

Seok Jangsan looked over the group and spoke.
"Hey, it’s good to be grateful, but whether you actually see results is another issue. Just because you understand the principle doesn’t mean you can do it."
The new disciples' faces hardened.

Because he was right.
Kwak Yeon had figured it out on his own because his understanding of meridians was exceptionally deep.
Seeing their heavy expressions, Kwak Yeon added,

"It’s not absolutely necessary to understand meridians. Just adjusting your posture and movements is enough to make it work."
"So you’re saying you’ll correct our postures for us?"
Kwak Yeon nodded.

"For now, we have to at least reach the first level of Geon-gon Gu-gong."
They had to avoid collective failure at all costs, so the new disciples all nodded in unison.
"Then let’s head to the training ground together."

 
****
Hyeonmun Dojang left the Sect Leader’s hall late.

His energy was low.
'Was my expectation too high?'
Maybe it was a mistake to expect anything in the first place.

Perhaps it was because of Chief Instructor Kang Ik-yu’s words—how this batch of new disciples would be different. For a moment, he had dared to hope.
Hope that Yeongmudang might finally produce an outstanding talent.
But when he saw Kwak Yeon completely unfocused in training, that hope crumbled once more.

Their enthusiasm was evident, but their limitations as outer disciples were just as clear.
Once again, it seemed they would produce nothing but ordinary students.
He regretted getting invested.

The higher-ups had no expectations or interest in Yeongmudang anyway.
Their job was simply to expose the disciples to the basics of Wudang martial arts and send them off.
The Sect Leader had said, "Since we are doing this, let’s at least do our best," but…

'Enthusiasm alone won’t make one a master.'
Dragging his feet, Hyeonmun Dojang entered the training ground—then his eyes widened.
"…!"

Something was different about the new disciples training in Geon-gon Gu-gong.
The first level required one to throw the wooden sphere into the air, execute the full footwork sequence, and catch it before it fell.
Most of the new disciples were now just two steps away from completing it.

Just yesterday afternoon, they had barely managed half of the required steps.
‘What the hell happened overnight?’
And Seok Jangsan… every single time he threw the sphere, he caught it perfectly.

It was clear that Seok Jangsan had fully mastered the first level.
Seeing this, Hyeonmun Dojang felt a surge of energy.
Hope had returned.

Perhaps, deep down, he had wanted to see them persevere despite their struggles.
Maybe he had simply not wanted to witness them resigning themselves to failure and sinking into despair.
That was why he had volunteered to oversee Yeongmudang.

It was a position no one wanted. A role with responsibility but no reward, no recognition, and no expectation of producing elite disciples.
It was a position that carried no influence in the sect’s hierarchy.
Taking charge of Yeongmudang meant gradually being pushed further away from Wudang’s core leadership.

Yet, Hyeonmun Dojang had willingly taken it.
Because these were still Wudang disciples. He couldn’t just stand by and watch them drown in helplessness, disappointment, and defeat.
Hyeonmun Dojang had once been the head of the Precepts Hall.

The suicide of a Yeongmudang disciple in the Repentance Hall had shaken him deeply.
After that, he had personally requested the Sect Leader to appoint him as Yeongmudang’s head instructor.
The Lord of Woojin Palace, his former mentor, had been furious.

"Why does it have to be you?"
But even the Woojin Palace Lord had been unable to change his stubborn disciple’s mind.
And yet, despite everything, he had achieved nothing.

The inherent limitations of outer disciples were too great.
Most of them gave up and settled for mediocrity. No amount of shouting, encouragement, or motivation had ever changed that.
But this time…!

Hyeonmun Dojang felt his dying passion reignite.
"You useless brats! Everyone, stop right now!"