Episode 412

The Gate of Wudang Opens (2)

After unpacking his belongings in his quarters, Lee Gwak stepped outside.

 

The Clear Heart Pavilion was quiet, as not everyone who had received an invitation had arrived yet.

 

Lee Gwak walked around the pavilion for a while, then walked out into the greater compound. He wanted to look around the Wudang Sect before the crowds arrived; once the guests poured in, leisurely sightseeing would be impossible.

 

The spiritual energy of Mount Wudang was extraordinary.

 

Just being on the mountain made his mind and body feel purified, and he marveled at the sensation as he walked.

 

Being on Mount Wudang alone was enough to make one feel spiritually cleansed. Lee Gwak marveled at the sect’s aura as he walked.

 

Regardless of the Wudang Sect’s intentions, the mountain’s energy was undeniably remarkable.

 

Like a lone tourist on holiday, Lee Gwak roamed the grounds by himself.

 

Here and there, small groups of people explored the area. Some were simply curious, but most were hoping to size up Wudang’s strength in any way they could.

 

Lee Gwak kept his distance and enjoyed the scenery alone.

 

With seventy-two peaks and twenty-six rocky cliffs, mount Wudang was majestic. While absorbing the view, he gradually found himself in a quiet area far from the bustling heart of the sect.

 

“Seems I’ve come a bit too far.”

 

He was now standing on the top of a jagged cliff, a place not often visited because it was too dangerous. The cliffs were so cloudy that he couldn’t even see the other side.

 

One misstep, and he would plummet into the abyss.

 

But he didn’t feel any fear. Instead, he savored the wind blowing against him.

 

Then—

 

“Interesting fellow.”

 

A voice drifted over with the wind.

 

Lee Gwak raised his head, looking in the direction of the voice.

 

His brow furrowed.

 

The voice came from the other side of the cliff, but he couldn’t see anything through the cloud

 

The voice called again.

 

“Who are you?”

 

“And who might you be?”

 

“Me? Are you curious?”

 

“……”

 

“If you’re curious, come over. That is, if you have the courage.”

 

“……”

 

Lee Gwak could hear the faint amusement in the speaker’s tone.

 

Even the most skilled martial artist would hesitate to jump if they saw the sea of clouds stretching out beneath their feet.

 

Under normal circumstances, Lee Gwak wouldn’t have dared to cross either. But the voice from the other side had stirred his curiosity.

 

He threw his sword^[a][b][c], still in its scabbard, toward the sea of clouds.

 

Swish!

 

Immediately after, he kicked off the edge of the cliff and launched himself into the air.

 

His body pierced through the white mist in an instant.

 

After flying about twenty zhang, he began to descend in a gentle arc—

 

Just then, the blade he had thrown earlier reappeared, floating slowly in front of him.

 

Tap!

 

Using the sword^[d] as a stepping stone, Lee Gwak regained his momentum.

 

His falling body shot forward with renewed momentum.

 

As he flew upward, he reached his hand backward. The blade, which had been falling into the abyss, flew back into his grip as if drawn by an invisible force.

 

Void Retrieval Art.

 

Blade in hand, Lee Gwak landed on the flat peak across the gap.

 

The moment his feet touched the ground,  a hearty laugh rang out right in front of him.

 

“Ha ha ha! You actually made it across. What a bold fellow.”

 

The voice belonged to an old man whose age was impossible to guess.

 

“^[e]He was dressed like a farmer, with a hoe in hand. His hair was completely white, and deep wrinkles lined his face. His eyes shone with curiosity and excitement.

 

Lee Gwak clasped his hands in respect.

 

“Junior Lee Gwak pays his respects to the elder”

 

“Lee Gwak? So you’re not a disciple of the Wudang Sect. I heard the commotion earlier—Cheongsong must have finally opened the sect’s gates.”

 

The old man seemed unfamiliar with Lee Gwak’s name.

 

Lee Gwak asked, “By Cheongsong, do you mean the current sect leader of the Wudang Sect?”

 

“That’s right. My junior brother.”

 

“Junior brother?”

 

“Ah, I forgot to introduce myself. My Taoist name is Cheongheo. I am Cheongsong’s senior brother.”

 

“So you really are a senior elder of the Wudang Sect.”

 

“Elder? Don’t say such things.”

 

 

Cheongheo tossed the hoe into a trench and approached Lee Gwak.

 

Only then did Lee Gwak properly look around.

 

The flat mountaintop was covered in vast fields, likely cultivated by Cheongheo himself.

 

If this man was the senior brother of the current sect leader, his status within the Wudang Sect must be incredibly high. Yet here he was, farming in seclusion, far from the sect’s main grounds.

 

It was a strangely dissonant sight, but the farmer’s attire suited him so well that it seemed he had been tending these fields for years.

 

Cheongheo studied Lee Gwak closely before exhaling in admiration.

 

“Hah! Impressive! To reach such a level at your age… Tell me honestly. With your skills, you must rank among the top martial artists in the Jianghu, no?”

 

“The Jianghu is vast, with countless experts. How could I dare claim to be among the top?”

 

“Heh! Excessive modesty is no virtue. Though I’ve been blind to the affairs of the Jianghu for years, I still know how to judge a person. Even among Wudang’s old horses, none can match you. If someone like you isn’t considered exceptional, then who is?”

 

“I’m honored by your high praise.”

 

“Sit down! It’s been a while since I’ve had a guest. At the very least, I’d like to offer you tea.”

 

Cheongheo pointed to three small boulders nearby

 

They were arranged as if one were a table and the others seats on either side.

 

Lee Gwak nodded and sat on the rock to the left.

 

With a gentle smile, Cheongheo stepped into a shabby hut beside the field.  The dilapidated structure looked like it might collapse at any moment.

 

Soon, he returned with a tea set in hand.

 

He set it down on the flat stone in front of Yi Gwak.

 

Lee Gwak’s eyes lit up.

 

The surface of the stone was smooth like glass and etched with many shallow lines at even intervals.

 

A Go board?

 

Lee Gwak recognized it instantly.

 

Cheongheo chuckled.

 

“I got bored living alone, so I made this to play Go.”

 

“You play Go by yourself?”

 

“Who would visit this remote place? I just play both sides—attack and defend. Once you get used to it, it’s quite fun.”

 

Though Cheongheo spoke casually, Lee Gwak didn’t take his words lightly.

 

He recalled a legendary martial art from the Wudang Sect.

 

‘Has he mastered the Dual Intent Heart Art?’

 

The Dual Intent Heart Art was a unique discipline that involved splitting one’s consciousness in two.

 

Those who mastered it could perform two different martial arts simultaneously.  However, in the Wudang Sect’s centuries-long history, fewer than ten individuals had achieved this feat.

 

If Cheongheo had truly mastered it, he was undoubtedly one of the sect’s top ten masters of all time.

 

Lee Gwak looked at Cheongheo with renewed respect.

 

Cheongheo began brewing tea on the makeshift Go board.

 

He placed his hand lightly over the kettle and channeled his internal energy; the water quickly boiled and released steam.

 

He poured the hot water, steeping the tea leaves.

 

“I grew these myself. It’s the first flush, so they should taste decent.”

 

“I’ll enjoy it.”

 

Lee Gwak accepted the teacup.

 

The aroma was exquisite.

 

The faint bitterness spread through his mouth, clearing his mind.

 

“This is excellent. The best tea I’ve ever had.”

 

“Isn’t it? Ha ha!”

 

Cheongheo smiled with pleasure at having his tea appreciated.

 

Having it acknowledged by Lee Gwak made him genuinely happy.

 

“I’ll pack some for you before you leave. Brew it when you have the time.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“No need for thanks.”

 

Cheongheo blushed slightly and sipped his tea.

 

Lee Gwak silently savored his.

 

Slurp.

 

The two men drank in silence atop the quiet peak.

 

Ppyororong!

 

Somewhere, the call of a nameless bird rang out.

 

Lee Gwak found the moment peaceful.

 

Cheongheo observed him before speaking again.

 

“You’re quite intriguing.”

 

“How so?”

 

“You’re clearly not a Taoist, yet I sense a profound aura around you. Had you devoted yourself to Taoism, you might have achieved great enlightenment.”

 

“You flatter me.”

 

“I only speak what I see. No need for humility. Though, to be honest, my bluntness is why I was exiled here.”

 

“Who would dare confine you?”

 

“Who else could command a disciple of the Wudang Sect?”

 

“The sect leader?”

 

“Cheongsong forbade me from leaving, using his authority as leader. But it’s not so bad—I’ve forgotten the complexities of the world, tending to my tea fields. Though I’ve grown ignorant of worldly affairs, so bear with me.”

 

Cheongheo smiled wryly.

 

Lee Gwak felt that the situation inside the Wudang Sect was more complicated than he thought.

 

“Don’t you get lonely?”

 

“At first, yes. But I’ve grown used to it.”

 

“Does no one visit?”

 

“Occasionally, some of the first-generation disciples drop by. Lately, though, even they’ve become scarce…”

 

Cheongheo clicked his tongue and picked up the teapot again.

 

Pour…

 

The empty cup filled once more.

 

Cheongheo half-closed his eyes as he savored the tea.

 

His ragged clothes and detached demeanor made him seem like an immortal sage. But Lee Gwak sensed that he was far from one.

 

The fighting spirit in his eyes and the faint resentment lingering in his gaze were the remnants of earthly attachments still chaining him down.

 

Lee Gwak didn’t pry.

 

Everyone had their hidden stories, and even a Taoist master of the Wudang Sect was no exception.

 

This meeting was but a fleeting encounter.

 

After sharing a cup of tea, they would part ways, perhaps never to meet again. It would be impolite to dig into the old man’s past.

 

All that mattered was cherishing this moment.

 

Lee Gwak sipped his tea in silence.

 

The small cup was soon empty, and Cheongheo refilled it without a word.

 

“Your name was Lee Gwak, right?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“A good name. But it carries too much killing intent.”

 

“Is that so?”

 

“That’s why turmoil follows wherever you go.”

 

“……”

 

“You may seek peace, but it’s impossible. The killing aura clinging to you won’t allow it.”

 

“If such a thing truly exists, is there no way to rid myself of it?”

 

“Can one change their fate? The only way would be to abandon everything and leave the secular world behind. But is that possible?”

 

“……”

 

“Just live as you do now. In time, even the most stubborn killing intent will fade. Of course, until then, you’ll face fierce struggles…”

 

Cheongheo looked up at the sky.

 

A flawless, piercing blue filled his vision.

 

“That’s life. The road ahead may look hopeless now,  but if you keep moving forward, you’ll find yourself close to your goal before you know it.”

 

“I hope it turns out that way.”

 

“You’re still young. Don’t speak so weakly when you hold such power. It’s unbecoming—especially in front of an old man who’s nearing his end.”

 

“With all due respect, you don’t seem like you’ll pass away anytime soon.”

 

At Lee Gwak’s offhand remark, Cheongheo’s eyes lit up.

 

“Oh? Why do you think that?”

 

“I see lingering attachments in your eyes, sir. People with a lot of regrets don’t let go so easily.”

 

“When you say ‘let go,’ do you mean of life itself?”

 

“Of life… and of many other things.”

 

“Hmph! You’re a sharp one.”

 

Cheongheo glared at him.

 

For a moment, an intense light erupted from his eyes—sharp enough to feel like needles stabbing into Lee Gwak’s pupils. But Lee Gwak didn’t avert his gaze. He met it head-on.

 

“Sigh…”

 

With a sudden sigh, Cheong-heo lowered his gaze first.

 

“Gwak.”

 

“Yes, Elder.”

 

“Don’t hate Wudang too much. They act rashly because they’re impatient. After being penned up on this narrow mountain for a century, who wouldn’t be frustrated? That frustration is why they act without thinking, unable to judge matters clearly.”

 

…

 

“Even without you, they will collapse and face despair. I just hope… you won’t be the one to bring them greater ruin.”

 

“Elder?”

 

“Forgive me. I invited you here only to lay burdens on you. No wonder I can’t dream of ascending to the Immortal Realm—my lingering attachments are far too heavy…”

 

Cheong-heo closed his eyes in silence.