Wudang Sacred Scriptures-Chapter 47

“Starting today, you are to perform seated meditation for one double-hour each day.”

At the words of Daoist Hyeonin, Kwak Yeon was certain that something about him had changed.

Even if that weren’t the case, as the highest authority in the sect, his orders were not optional.

“...Understood.”

“The seated meditation of our palace, the Line of Daoist Hermits, differs from the martial lineages of the Seven Lower Palaces below. It is for the accumulation of Spiritual Energy in the pursuit of the Dao that governs Heaven and Earth. Therefore, even while exhaling and inhaling, you must not circulate energy or perform energy movement exercises.”

“......”

“Today, I will explain the Heavenly Heart Scripture, the introductory classic of the Daoist Hermit path. Reflect on its principles as you meditate.”

Kwak Yeon felt a hollow sinking in his chest at the thought of having to join the Daoist Hermit Lineage—but still listened attentively.

After all, since the martial arts of the Wudang Sect were all rooted in Daoist theory, studying the Daoist path couldn’t possibly do harm.

Spending a double-hour each day in seated meditation naturally brought to mind energy movement exercises.

He had practiced the Taiji Internal Arts daily for the past year and a half—it wasn’t something he could easily shake off.

“Your head is full of devils!”

It {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} was no surprise when Daoist Hyeonin’s sharp rebuke rang out.

“Do you mean to tell me you haven’t even grasped the fundamental principle of Supreme Goodness Is Like Water?”

Kwak Yeon closed his mouth and couldn’t bring himself to say anything in response.

“If you remain unawakened by tomorrow, I will have no choice but to administer the Immortal Punishment.”

After leaving Daoist Hyeonin’s hall, Kwak Yeon asked Daoist Cheongmu what “Immortal Punishment” meant.

“It’s nothing serious. He’ll just smack your shoulders a few times with a cane. Supposedly to wake you up from a dream. Pretty ridiculous, right? Telling someone with both eyes open to wake up from a dream.”

Even if it was just a few strikes with a cane, punishment was still punishment. Kwak Yeon couldn’t forgive himself for failing to stay focused in his studies.

That evening, during meditation, he shook off thoughts of Taiji Internal Arts and focused entirely on the Heavenly Heart Scripture.

He already knew the meaning of Supreme Goodness Is Like Water—he had learned it at the lecture hall.

Water flows downward, and changes according to its container.

He realized that a person’s heart was the same.

In that moment, he also understood something about Daoist Hyeonin’s heart.

“Daoist Hyeonin’s heart is already shaped like a fixed vessel.”

Sure enough, even though Kwak Yeon offered a prepared answer, the creased frown on Daoist Hyeonin’s brow didn’t ease.

“You’re still far from ready. As I said yesterday, I will now administer the Immortal Punishment. Prepare yourself.”

Seeing Daoist Hyeonin rise while leaving his Immortal Staff behind, Kwak Yeon had a bad feeling.

“Didn’t they say the Immortal Punishment was like the monk’s awakening stick, used to rouse one from slumber?”

Following Daoist Hyeonin as he left the Lower Quarters, Kwak Yeon looked around.

The setting sun had begun to cast a glow over the Lower Quarters, but there was no trace of Daoist Cheongmu anywhere in or around the courtyard.

“What are you dawdling for?”

“......”

“Cheongmu went to gather pine needles to be used in the Fasting Pills. Don’t bother looking for him.”

Kwak Yeon realized then—Daoist Hyeonin had planned this.

“In that case...”

His heart sank when he saw Daoist Hyeonin ascending the staircase toward Three Spirits Peak.

That word Daoist Cheongmu had recoiled at came to mind—

The Immortal’s Room!

The cave where a ghost was said to dwell.

“Surely... he wouldn’t go that far?”

A sense of dread rose within him—but curiosity also stirred.

If the Immortal Punishment involved being sent to the Immortal’s Room, then it certainly wasn’t an ordinary cave.

He had once sneaked a glance at Three Spirits Peak, wondering about the place where the Immortal’s Room was said to be.

“What are you waiting for? Follow me.”

Clenching his jaw, Kwak Yeon hurried to catch up behind Daoist Hyeonin.

What could be worse than the reality he was already living? It was just a cave.

The stairs led to a small shrine built into the middle of the cliff.

Even the roof was made of stone walls. It had no windows.

One could only enter or exit through the door, which was wrapped tightly in chains and locked with a heavy padlock.

CLACK.

Daoist Hyeonin unlocked the rusty padlock with a large iron key and opened the shrine door.

CREEEEAK.

Inside, there was nothing at all—just a dark, soot-colored rock face with the words Immortal’s Room carved into it.

It was the same pitch-black iron-colored rock as the cliff where he had once gathered pine needles for the Fasting Pills.

It seemed to be a cave hollowed into the very cliff said to emit Spiritual Energy.

The door sealing the cave was made of the same dark iron, hard to distinguish in the dimness.

CLANG.

Daoist Hyeonin unlocked the iron door and spoke.

“This Immortal’s Room is the sacred site where the founder of our palace attained enlightenment. Do not think of this as punishment. Think of it as an oath to follow the founder’s path. You will meditate here for one night.”

His intentions were obvious, and that made Kwak Yeon uneasy—but there was nothing he could do.

“It’s just one night.”

He wasn’t afraid of caves or the dark.

“Yes... it’s like a chamber of repentance.”

He had spent several days in a locked room at the Disciplinary Hall once, hadn’t he?

CREEEAK.

As the iron door groaned open, an eerie coldness spilled out.

“Go on in.”

“......”

“This place is rich in Spiritual Energy. It will help you achieve greater cultivation. Of course, if you wish to abandon the Daoist Hermit Lineage even now, you don’t need to enter.”

Kwak Yeon now fully understood—Daoist Hyeonin wasn’t putting him here just to punish him. He wanted to pressure him into leaving the palace on his own.

“No matter what happens, I will never leave Wudang.”

Kwak Yeon strode firmly into the Immortal’s Room.

THUD.

The iron door slammed shut behind him, followed quickly by the sound of the padlock clicking.

CLACK.

Just locking the latch would have been enough to keep him in—yet Daoist Hyeonin had used the padlock too.

Wasn’t this treating him like a criminal?

CLANK.

Even the outer shrine door was locked.

Daoist Hyeonin’s anger at his defiant attendant was now perfectly clear.

Kwak Yeon pitied him—for not understanding his sincerity.

“A chipped vessel...”

The phrase that Master Jang had once said while watching Teaching Assistant So Jin-sam flashed through his mind.

Aside from the chilling cold of the cave, there didn’t seem to be anything particularly frightening about the Immortal’s Room.

But the moment the thought hit him—that he was truly alone, in utter darkness—he was struck by a sudden fear.

Kwak Yeon quickly brushed the fear away.

Supreme Goodness Is Like Water.

Hadn’t he realized that everything stemmed from the heart? If he let go of fear, then there was nothing to be afraid of.

“Well then, since I have to spend the night here anyway, I’ll do some energy movement training.”

Kwak Yeon thought perhaps this was a blessing in disguise.

A chance to cultivate without interruption.

No errands to run, no chores to be assigned. No Daoist Cheongmu suddenly popping up with chatter.

“Ah... I just hope Daoist Cheongmu doesn’t get startled when he sees I’m not there.”

But it’s just one night. Surely Daoist Hyeonin would tell him he’s serving his Immortal Punishment.

Thinking of it as a rare break, Kwak Yeon began circulating his energy with Taiji Internal Arts in peace.

Supreme Goodness Is Like Water... what a beautiful phrase.

As soon as he let go of his tension, Kwak Yeon realized how much peace washed over him.

It had been just over a quarter-hour since he folded his legs into lotus position and began channeling his energy.

That was when he suddenly felt a piercing chill.

A coldness sharp as a blade.

Hssshhh!

The chill surged in from the depths of the cave.

Ah... this must be what Daoist Cheongmu meant.

His teeth chattered, and his bones ached.

The cold of the dead of winter would feel like a warm breeze in comparison. No—this was of a different nature altogether. It didn’t freeze his skin, it froze him from within.

Yin-Cold Energy.

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He now understood what Cheongmu had meant when he said it was unbearable even for a moment.

And it was growing stronger by the second.

At this rate, I’ll freeze to death.

No, it felt like his very soul might freeze.

Could such a thing exist? A cold that kills the soul?

Pfft.

Even in the midst of this torment, he let out a small, absurd laugh at his own wild thoughts.

The cold’s so intense it’s making me think ridiculous things.

The clothes he wore were thin. Not that thick ones would help.

This wasn’t a chill that could be blocked by fabric. The air wasn’t just cold against the skin—it was bypassing the flesh and burrowing directly into his spirit.

It was as if it were grinding down the very bones of his soul—scraping and shaving them into powder, bit by bit.

It wasn’t pain. It wasn’t suffering.

It was something beyond words.

He felt as though if this went on any longer, he might lose his mind entirely.

Now he understood why Daoist Cheongmu had seen hallucinations.

Another minute of this and he might start begging to meet the messenger of death.

He had no idea the Immortal’s Room would be this horrifying.

A Daoist who claims to seek enlightenment throwing a child into a place like this out of spite—how vile can one be?

But this wasn’t the time to resent anyone.

I have to hold on to my mind.

His body wasn’t truly freezing. As long as he kept his mind together, he wouldn’t die.

He had to anchor his consciousness somewhere—or else this storm of Yin-Cold Energy would shatter his soul into pieces.

And then, it came to him naturally—the flow of the Celestial Meridian Map he had practiced so long.

It was what had helped him endure four years of brutal solitude. Whenever he was exhausted or in despair, he would envision the map and let his Internal Energy Pressure fly freely through the acupoints and meridians of the heavens.

It helped him endure his family’s abandonment, the separation from those at the Burial Grounds, and the grief of Master Jang’s death.

The circulation of the Celestial Meridian Map had always been a time of recovery—and a moment of quiet joy.

As he envisioned it now and plunged into the flow, it felt like a fire was kindling against the frozen fragments of his soul, melting him back into wholeness.

Before he knew it, he recalled that conversation with Master Jang:

“There’s nothing in the pot.”

“It only seems like there’s nothing.”

Wasn’t Master Jang, while staring into the dancing firewood, using its heat to warm his own fading soul?

To forget the torment of the Yin-Cold Energy, Kwak Yeon immersed himself completely in the circulation of the Celestial Meridian Map.

The storm of Yin-Cold Energy raged and slammed into him, surrounding him entirely, howling like a beast.

It felt like ten thousand kalpas had passed.

Faintly, his soul’s core hollow began to shrink.

No matter how high he tried to soar, it was like a mountain of ice was shackled to his ankles, dragging him down.

The hollow in his soul grew smaller and smaller.

If he hadn’t tethered his mind like an anchor, he would’ve been sucked helplessly into the Abyss.

But Yin-Cold Energy was not something one could overcome with imagination and willpower alone.

Is this my limit?

Then, suddenly, he realized the Yin-Cold Energy was receding.

The trembling in his body, once like a quaking leaf, began to still.

And then—it struck him.

“It gets really cold in there... and then really hot.”

That was what Daoist Cheongmu had told him.

Does that mean... the next part is the Heatfire Energy?

Screeeeech!

Somewhere, a sharp and eerie sound rang out.

Like demons battling in the hells of the Realm of Unending Torment.

And as the Yin-Cold Energy faded, heat began to rise.

Kwak Yeon realized this cave was shifting from a frozen hell into one of burning flames.

A place where such grotesque extremes occurred—it was hard to believe it truly existed.

The Yin-Cold Energy had frozen the marrow of his soul. So now the Heatfire Energy would scorch it into cinders.

It wasn’t real flame, so it wouldn't injure his body—at least that was a small relief.

But now he understood why Daoist Hyeonin had locked him in here.

Because it inflicted only spiritual pain, it would leave no physical marks.

Kwak Yeon wasn’t shaken.

He had already reduced the mental shock by immersing himself in the Celestial Meridian Map.

I can endure this too.

He closed his eyes and focused once more on the map’s energy flow.

As the fire-spirits clung to him, it felt like flames were rising from deep within his bones. Like he was being burned into ash—his body crumbling into blackened fragments.

A part of him wanted to let go of his mind completely.

If he did, perhaps the pain would vanish.

But doing so would mean surrendering a piece of his consciousness.

Just as Daoist Cheongmu had—quaking in submission before Daoist Hyeonin.

I won’t allow that.

All suffering was rooted in the heart.

The only way to not feel that suffering was to enter the state of True Absorption—his singular meditative trance.

Kwak Yeon sank even deeper into the trance of the Celestial Meridian Map.

The pain of fire-demons scorching his soul tried to wrench him back.

They howled, demanding he give up his mind.

Demanding that he yield to their power.