“What are you doing here again?”
Lord Unhyeon of the Wujin Palace glared at his disciple, Instructor Hyeonmun, with clear displeasure on his face.
When Hyeonmun only bit his lip tightly without answering, Lord Unhyeon’s frown deepened.
“If you’re here, speak your reason! Where did you learn such ill manners?”
Instructor Hyeonjeong, the senior disciple standing beside Hyeonmun, stepped in.
“Master, please calm yourself. Instructor Hyeonmun must have come here after gathering great courage. Wouldn’t it be better to at least hear his greetings first and listen to what he has to say?”
“Greetings? From a brat who didn’t even show his nose on my birthday? And now he brings greetings?”
Lord Unhyeon’s voice rose.
“He only came crawling because he wants something.”
“Master, I beg you...”
Lord Unhyeon’s face was thunderous as he interrupted.
“I’ll hear him out, only for your sake, since you’re his senior. But don’t expect much.”
Trying to smooth over the tension between master and disciple, Instructor Hyeonjeong looked at Hyeonmun and urged him.
“Instructor Hyeonmun. Please go ahead and speak your purpose. You’re already fifty—well past the age to be acting stubborn in front of your master.”
Instructor Hyeonmun bit down on his lip again before finally opening his mouth.
“Master, I came here with a request, as you likely already guessed.”
As if to say “I knew it,” Lord Unhyeon’s brow furrowed deeply.
“However, I ask you to understand that I came with the intent to serve Wujin Palace. There is nothing improper in my intentions.”
“You? You claim to care about Wujin Palace? You abandoned your post as Head of the Precepts Hall to take a useless side position—and you call that loyalty? We lost a vital leadership role in the palace because of that.”
Hyeonmun responded firmly.
“Master, Eternal Wudang is no less important than the Precepts Hall.”
“What? Eternal Wudang is important? You think raising random outer disciples and teaching the school’s rejects qualifies as a key position? Then why come here to beg? If it’s so important, solve it yourself.”
Instructor Hyeonjeong braced himself. He expected Instructor Hyeonmun to flare up immediately—his temper never let things slide.
If that happened, the gap between master and disciple would deepen further. Worse, if things got out of hand, Lord Unhyeon might even sever ties completely.
Contrary to his worries, even as the master poured out his scolding, Hyeonmun stood with his lips sealed tight.
‘He must really have something serious to ask.’
Hyeonjeong couldn’t help but wonder what kind of earnest plea could make even Hyeonmun hold back his usual fire.
“Master, still—shouldn’t we at least hear what it is?”
Taking advantage of the brief pause after the outburst, Hyeonjeong gently pressed forward.
“Fine. Let’s hear it then. Let’s see how grand this request is.”
At his master’s words, Hyeonmun finally spoke.
“There is a truly exceptional student in Eternal Wudang right now. I believe he will not only bring great honor to Wujin Palace but may become the very embodiment of Wudang’s ideals.”
Lord Unhyeon’s expression brightened slightly.
“So even a cold-hearted brat like you didn’t completely forget about this palace.”
“I’ve already been watching that boy, Seok Jangsan. If you’re recommending him as one of Wujin Palace’s disciples, I have no objections.”
“The student I’m referring to is not Seok Jangsan.”
“...What? Not Seok Jangsan?”
Lord Unhyeon narrowed his eyes sharply.
“You mean there’s someone else with talent equal to his?”
“If Seok Jangsan is gold, this boy is a diamond.”
Lord Unhyeon rose from his cushioned seat.
“Someone like that exists? Then why didn’t he participate in the Azure Martial Tournament that day?”
“You saw him that day, Master. He did participate—and even fought in the Contest for the Pearls.”
“What nonsense is this? That day, Seok Jangsan was clearly the standout. He’s the only one who caught my eye. Who are you even talking about?”
“His name is Kwak Yeon.”
It was as if ice water had been dumped across the room. The air turned cold.
“Say that again. Who?”
“His name is Kwak Yeon.”
“Have you lost your mind? I’ve heard there’s one completely hopeless dullard in Eternal Wudang. Isn’t that his name—Kwak Yeon?”
“So you came all this way to recommend the most useless disciple in Eternal Wudang to become a member of Wujin Palace?”
“Master, please take him in as a disciple of Wujin Palace. No—he must be taken in. Otherwise, you may live with eternal regret.”
Now we’re talking about eternal regret?
“Ha! Now you’re trying to force your master’s hand?”
Hyeonjeong, seeing their master clutch the back of his neck in frustration, stepped in to ask instead.
“Instructor Hyeonmun, what’s this really about? That boy is the first disciple in Eternal Wudang’s history to be completely incapable of gathering internal energy.”
Hyeonmun then carefully explained all that had happened with Kwak Yeon during training in Eternal Wudang.
“...He’s someone who came to understand martial theory on his own. His cultivation isn’t lacking—he’s simply slow in gathering energy. And even that, I believe, is because his vessel is so vast that he hasn’t been able to fill it.”
Lord Unhyeon exploded.
“So only you have eyes, and all the other palace lords and elders of Wudang are blind?”
“Master, they say that one can see the future of a tree just by looking at the bud. But only if one takes the time to truly observe it.”
“No matter how much promise a bud shows, it’s still only a sapling.”
“It is the master’s duty to nurture the sapling so that it may grow strong.”
As master and disciple locked horns again, the conversation threatened to spiral into disaster. Hyeonjeong hastily jumped in once more.
“Master, Instructor Hyeonmun doesn’t insist without reason. He also cares deeply for Wujin Palace.”
With a faint groan, Lord Unhyeon closed his mouth, and Hyeonjeong turned quickly to Instructor Hyeonmun.
“Instructor Hyeonmun... You know as well as anyone that accepting a direct disciple is not something to be taken lightly. ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) If that boy proves mediocre, Wujin Palace will bear the shame. And for him, it could become unbearable suffering.”
In martial sects, the internal pain of failing to meet expectations was often more than disciples could endure. Countless tragedies had occurred for that very reason.
That’s why choosing disciples was a matter of utmost caution in martial schools.
“Wouldn’t it be better to guide him toward another path, even now? A flower must bloom in its right season if it’s to bear fruit.”
“Senior brother, they say the later a flower blooms, the greater the fruit it bears.”
Lord Unhyeon erupted again.
“And if that flower never blooms? What if it has no flower bud at all?”
“Three years! If he fails to gather internal energy in three years, I will accept any order from you.”
“You’re saying you’ll resign from Eternal Wudang and return to the palace?”
“I will consider it... if you make it one year.”
“Ah! Another failure!”
Jeong I-chu collapsed onto the ground with a thud.
In front of him, several wet sheets of paper were stuck to a brick wall. Every single one had been shredded and torn to pieces.
“I’ve probably hit it over a thousand times already, and I still can’t leave even one sheet intact.”
“Same here! I mean, is Impact Palm—an internal energy palm strike that’s supposed to hit the opponent through a wall—even real?”
“We saw Instructor Hyeonmun demonstrate it with our own eyes, so we can’t exactly deny it... but it’s driving me insane.”
Sighs filled the training grounds of Eternal Wudang. The disciples had officially begun training in Surface Palm and were now running into their limits.
The training required them to attach several water-dampened sheets of paper to a brick wall, then execute Defensive Strength – Pressing Palm without tearing the paper, while still knocking down the brick wall.
Because Wudang martial arts are built upon the principle of softness overcoming hardness, this exercise was a required final step in foundational training—testing the disciple’s ability to express Gentle Strength that concealed fierce force.
Naturally, the difficulty was incredibly high, and every Eternal Wudang disciple was suffering through it.
Seok Jangsan was at least managing not to tear the paper. But even he couldn’t cause the wall to so much as wobble, let alone collapse.
“Whew... Even the eternal top student can’t do it—what chance do we have?”
Once again, the Eternal Wudang disciples were sighing and replacing their torn paper sheets over and over.
Watching from one corner of the training ground, Kwak Yeon finally stepped forward toward the group.
“Would you all mind hearing me out for a second?”
The disciples all turned to look at him.
“I’m not exactly in a position to attempt Surface Palm myself, so I can’t promise anything... But maybe this might help.”
Jeong I-chu’s face immediately lit up.
“Hey! If it’s something from you, there’s no way we’re ignoring it. We were only able to understand internal energy and even manage Releasing Strength thanks to you.”
“Yeah! We’re grateful for anything. Just tell us whatever comes to mind.”
Kwak Yeon blushed slightly and spoke.
“I’ll just tell you what I’ve felt so far. Everyone’s condition is different, so in the end, you’ll have to find your own answers.”
“Exactly. Honestly, asking you to solve it for us would be shameless.”
“Right. That’d be like someone getting rescued from drowning and then demanding the rescuer’s bundle of belongings.”
Kwak Yeon looked around at the Eternal Wudang disciples. For a moment, a hint of melancholy flickered in his eyes—but it disappeared just as quickly.
“In my opinion, the Releasing Strength used in Surface Palm is different from ordinary Offensive Strength.”
Jeong I-chu, true to his impatient nature, quickly asked:
“How is it different? We’re still projecting internal energy outward, aren’t we?”
“Hey, Jeong I-chu! Could you stay quiet for once? Kwak Yeon’s obviously going to explain, so don’t interrupt and throw off the rhythm.”
“Yeah! Let’s all just keep our ears open and mouths shut. Miss one word and we’re the only ones losing out.”
Chastised by the others, Jeong I-chu gave a quick nod.
“Okay, okay. I won’t say another word.”
“Don’t even say that one!”
Jeong I-chu shut his mouth tight and rolled his eyes instead.
Kwak Yeon smiled gently and spoke.
“Don’t be too hard on him. What I-chu pointed out is actually a fair question. And it’s good when someone asks—because it might make me realize something I missed.”
Jeong I-chu glared playfully at the others, but kept his mouth shut so he wouldn’t interrupt again.
Kwak Yeon calmly continued.
“As I-chu said, internal energy is projected outward in a single act. But what I wanted to say is that for Surface Palm, the nature of that internal energy has to be different.”
“The reason all of you keep tearing the paper no matter what method you use is because the internal energy you’re releasing is still Spiraling Strength.”
Unable to hold back his curiosity, Jeong I-chu asked:
“Isn’t it normal for internal energy to be spiraling, though?”
It was a fair question. After all, they’d all been taught that internal energy naturally manifests in wave-like, spiral motions.