The Straw Doll
“It seems the time has come to break that outdated custom as well.”
Elder Hyeonsim dropped to one knee so that his eyes met Yeong-hwa’s.
“Yeong-hwa, look after the Sect Leader and Hagun for me.”
“Don’t worry, Elder Hyeonsim.”
Apparently pleased with the boy’s reply, Hyeonsim hoisted Yeong-hwa onto his shoulders.
“Shall we be off, Senior Brother Hyeonsu?”
“Indeed. Ever since Yeong-hwa arrived, the Palace of Abundant Forest and Rain has been so busy we hardly have time to breathe!”
The Palace of Abundant Forest and Rain was where the Wudang Sect received the throngs of pilgrims who came to offer their prayers. There they performed rites of offering and sold talismans as well.
“Elder Hyeonsu, I trust the chicken blood for drawing the talismans is ready?”
“Of course. Before I came I ordered a disciple to catch a fresh one.”
Watching Yeong-hwa leave Taehyeonjasogung with the elders, Hyeonsong and Hagun both smiled.
Hagun spoke first.
“Yeong-hwa adapts remarkably quickly.”
“He’s a child who survived for years in the Central Plains on nothing but scraps and sharp eyes. Of course he would.”
Hyeonsong turned to study his disciple.
“And you? Will you be all right?”
“About what, sir?”
“The sect’s selection for the Sword of Wudang is only a year away.”
Hagun scratched his head, looking sheepish.
“To tell the truth… lately I’ve been learning more from Yeong-hwa than from my own training.”
“Is that so?”
“I’ve also realized that mere obsession will never get me there.”
Hyeonsong’s expression warmed with quiet pride.
“You’ve grown a great deal yourself.”
He rose from his seat.
“For the journey to the Namgung Clan, simply inform Elder Baekgwang of the Hall of Gathering Light.”
“Yes, Sect Leader.”
“You may go.”
Just as Hagun turned to leave, Hyeonsong’s low voice stopped him.
“I look forward to the birth of a new Sword of Wudang—one who will shatter the traditions of our sect.”
Hagun halted, turned, and offered a deep martial salute.
The journey from Wudang Mountain in Hubei to Huangshan in Anhui, home of the Namgung Clan, took a full fortnight.
At the entrance to the Namgung estate, three Taoist priests hurried along a night road where red moonflowers bloomed in abundance. All three wore plain long robes and pressed their bamboo hats low over their faces. They were Hyeonsong, Yeong-hwa, and Hagun.
Yeong-hwa grumbled, clearly displeased with the night dew.
“Sect Leader, Elder Baekgwang of the Hall of Gathering Light specifically told us to ride horses…”
Hyeonsong cut the complaint short.
“Is there any need to announce to every corner of the world that we are of the Wudang Sect?”
“Tch. You’re being unreasonable.”
Hyeonsong smiled.
“Besides, the eyes of the world still look upon the murim with little kindness. The more dangerous the times, the more carefully a man of the rivers and lakes must tread. That is the way of things.”
“Well… you’re not wrong.”
Hagun brushed the dew from Yeong-hwa’s collar.
“Think of it as training, Yeong-hwa.”
“Senior Brother, you’re far too optimistic.”
“Isn’t it nice that we can talk as we walk?”
“I’m dying of exhaustion.”
Throughout the journey Yeong-hwa had been worn thin answering Hagun’s endless questions about the subtleties of the Taiji Thirteen Swords.
Suddenly Hyeonsong’s hand settled on his sword hilt. In the same instant Yeong-hwa and Hagun settled into ready stances and spread their senses.
From beneath the brim of his bamboo hat, Hyeonsong’s eyes flashed with killing intent.
“It seems we are not the only ones bound for the Namgung Clan.”
Hagun answered at once.
“At least two hundred. No demonic energy.”
Yeong-hwa calmly pushed up his hat and gazed at the stars.
“The Northern Dipper is still… yet the Southern Dipper of Six Stars is trembling.”
His brow furrowed.
“Looks like we’re about to get tangled in someone else’s family affairs.”
Hyeonsong launched himself forward on the Cloud-Treading Steps.
“Hurry!”
Yeong-hwa and Hagun matched his pace, their own Cloud-Treading Steps carrying them over the hills. Beyond the rise, vast halls rose before Huangshan—the main estate of the Namgung Clan, masters of Anhui Province.
Even at this late hour, torches blazed everywhere across the grounds. Before the magnificent main gate, two hundred warriors already stood with blades drawn, locked in a tense standoff. They were the famed Azure Sky Corps of the Namgung Clan. Facing them, warriors in purple robes radiated murderous intent.
Between the two forces, the head of the Namgung Clan was trading sword strikes with another man.
Zheng— jjeo-jeo-jeo-jeong— chaaang—
Racing closer, Hyeonsong focused his vision and called back to his disciples.
“This is no ordinary spar. It’s a duel to the death.”
Chaaa-aaa-aaa-aaaang—
The words were barely out before Hyeonsong drew his sword and kicked off the earth, soaring into the air.
“Sect Leader!”
Already winded from matching Hyeonsong’s qinggong, Yeong-hwa caught Hagun’s sleeve.
“Nothing will go wrong.”
“Even so…”
“Trust my instincts.”
Hagun watched with anxious eyes as Hyeonsong plunged into the lethal exchange of blades.
Saaa-aaa-aaa-aaaak—
With a rush of wind, Hyeonsong dropped between the two swordsmen who had been aiming for each other’s throats. Both tried to redirect their blades, but it was already too late.
“Hut!”
“Who are you?!”
Paaa-aaa-aaa-aaaang—
A fierce wave of energy exploded from Hyeonsong’s hand as the Wudang Cotton Palm struck. The palm blow smashed against the spine of the purple-robed swordsman’s blade, which was already wreathed in sword energy.
Jjeo-eo-eo-eo-eo-eo-eong—
At the same moment, Hyeonsong’s Songmun Ancient Sword traced a small circle, catching the Namgung patriarch’s blade and lifting it skyward.
Hwiririririririk—
Both swords, still charged with energy, spun high into the air.
Puuk— puuk—
They buried themselves in the earth. The two disarmed swordsmen stared in utter bewilderment. Every warrior present tensed at the sudden appearance of the bamboo-hatted stranger.
The man removed his hat and spoke in a calm, measured voice.
“I am Hyeonsong, Sect Leader of the Wudang Sect.”
The surrounding ranks erupted in shock.
“The Cloud Darkness Sword!”
“The hero of the Great Demon-Slaying War!”
Hyeonsong offered both men a light martial salute.
“I do not know the circumstances, yet it seemed improper for fellow members of the orthodox murim to brawl like common street thugs. So I intervened.”
Both swordsmen flushed scarlet; the edge in Hyeonsong’s words was unmistakable.
“Ahem.”
“Ahem.”
“Though my skill is modest, might I hear why you two friends were fighting?”
A fresh stir ran through the crowd as Yeong-hwa and Hagun pushed their way past the purple-robed warriors and approached. Yeong-hwa bowed at once to the two swordsmen who still hung their heads.
“Yeong-hwa, third-generation disciple of Wudang, greets the head of the Namgung Clan and the head of the Moyong Clan.”
At the boy’s words, Namgung Shin, patriarch of the Namgung Clan, stepped forward and offered Hyeonsong a formal salute.
“I received word that the Wudang Sect Leader would arrive today, yet I failed to greet you properly. I beg your forgiveness.”
Instead of answering, Hyeonsong drew the two swords from the ground and returned each to its owner.
“Think nothing of it. There must have been reasons.”
Namgung Shin turned to Moyong Cheon, head of the Moyong Clan, and spoke with difficulty.
“Distinguished guests have come to my house today. Perhaps we might postpone this duel to the death?”
Moyong Cheon glanced at Hyeonsong, then sheathed his sword.
“We return to Jiangsu, to our own estate.”
Yet the killing intent in his eyes as he looked at Namgung Shin never lessened.
“Do not forget. This blood debt will never end until that bastard is dead.”
He shouted to the warriors in purple robes embroidered with wolves on the back.
“Purple Radiance Cosmos Corps—return to the main house!”
Watching two hundred men withdraw in perfect order, Namgung Shin finally let out a breath. He issued orders to the Azure Sky Corps.
“We cannot know what the night may bring. Maintain full vigilance until dawn.”
“Yes, Patriarch.”
Only then did Namgung Shin approach Hyeonsong, Yeong-hwa, and Hagun.
“You have seen me at my most disgraceful.”
Hyeonsong waved the apology aside.
“Not at all. Let us hear the full story once we are inside.”
From behind them Yeong-hwa, staring at the Namgung halls with an odd expression, suddenly spoke.
“The Three Divine Grandmothers are angry.”
He examined the currents of energy more carefully.
“The Azure Dragon Deity is barely holding them back…”
At those words Namgung Shin turned and strode toward the boy.
“So you are that Yeong-hwa the Taoist whose name has spread throughout the Central Plains?”
“That is not what matters right now.”
Yeong-hwa’s face was grave.
“The Azure Emperor Guardian Deity who protects the Namgung Clan cannot exert his power.”
His gaze sharpened as he fixed it on Namgung Shin.
“How did this come to pass?”
Under the boy’s piercing question, Namgung Shin bit his lip.
“This is not the place to speak of it.”
He released a long sigh.
“Come inside. I will tell you everything.”
Guided by the patriarch, they entered the Namgung Clan’s reception hall. True to the clan’s renown, the chamber was lavishly appointed. Hagun could not help admiring the room draped in blue silk.
“As expected of one of the Five Great Clans.”
“Your words are kind.”
Namgung Shin ordered a servant girl to bring wine.
“Does Sect Leader Hyeonsong drink?”
“I do not indulge often, yet a day like this seems to call for it.”
When Hyeonsong and Namgung Shin took seats at the table, Yeong-hwa scurried over and settled himself as well. Seeing Hagun hesitate, Hyeonsong spoke to their host.
“This is the Taoist I intend to take as my personal disciple.”
“Is that so?”
“You may speak freely before him.”
Color flooded Hagun’s face. He quickly pulled out a chair and sat beside Yeong-hwa. Servant girls laid out the wine and an array of lavish side dishes. When Yeong-hwa swallowed hard at the sight of the food, Hagun shot him a warning glance.
Hyeonsong lifted the wine bottle first and filled Namgung Shin’s cup.
“From what Yeong-hwa said, it seems there is a matter of the heart between the Moyong and Namgung Clans…”
The cup in the patriarch’s hand trembled as he received the wine. Namgung Shin summoned a warrior standing guard outside.
“Allow no one near the reception hall tonight.”
“Yes, Patriarch.”
Once the man had gone, Namgung Shin drained his cup in a single swallow and began.
“There is no longer any point in hiding it. I will speak frankly.”
Yeong-hwa’s eyes sparkled with interest.
“My second son… no matter how I look at it, he has gone mad.”
Hyeonsong and Hagun could not conceal their shock. Namgung Shin exhaled a deep, weary breath.
“I thought it was merely the folly of youth.”
He forced the words out with difficulty.
“But that worthless boy, without the permission of either family, lay with the eldest daughter of the Moyong Clan and got her with child.”
Hyeonsong considered for a moment before speaking.
“Then would not arranging a proper marriage resolve the matter?”
“On the wedding day itself the boy claimed he had never seen the bride, flew into a panic, and fled.”
“And that is what brought about today’s disaster.”
The next words left Namgung Shin’s face even more ashen.
“Sect Leader… have you ever heard of the affliction called carnal obsession?”
Hyeonsong answered, startled.
“Is that not a form of qi deviation that only befalls those who walk the heretical demonic path?”
“Even while fleeing, that boy has been assaulting women. The authorities have already received formal complaints.”
“Good heavens… this is truly…”
Deureureureuk—
Yeong-hwa, who had been quietly sampling the side dishes while studying the patriarch’s face, suddenly rose from his seat.
“Patriarch, forgive my rudeness.”
“What do you mean, Taoist Yeong-hwa?”
No one had time to stop him.
Seukaaa-aaa-aaang—
Yeong-hwa slipped behind the patriarch in a flash and drew his sword.
“Yeong-hwa!”
“What are you doing, Yeong-hwa?!”
Seugak—
With a light stroke he sliced open the patriarch’s long robe. The garment, embroidered with an azure dragon and lined thickly against the coming winter, spilled cotton fluff that drifted through the air. Namgung Shin simply watched the boy’s actions.
Yeong-hwa searched inside the cut robe and drew something out.
“Interesting.”
In his hand lay a small doll fashioned of straw.
“Has your second son ever gone into convulsions at the mere sight of you, Patriarch?”
“He has, Taoist Yeong-hwa.”
Yeong-hwa’s lips curved as he examined the talisman driven into the straw doll.
“There is a sorcerer among our opponents.”
He pulled the wooden nail free from the effigy.
“To deliberately set the gods themselves against one another… the skill is rather impressive.”