The Black Tortoise's Pact
When the black serpents released him, Yeong-hwa did not look at Hyeoncheon Sangje.
Instead, he turned his back and sat.
"Take me to the underworld as well!"
Yeong-hwa spoke with the look of a boy who had long since grown sick of everything.
"Ever since I received the spirit descent, nothing has gone right for my family back on Mount Baekdu!"
His sheer nerve drew a hearty laugh from Hyeoncheon Sangje, who stroked his beard.
"That was not because of your spirit descent."
"I don't care about any of that!"
Yeong-hwa flopped flat onto his back altogether.
At the sight, veins stood out on the brows of the divine warriors who attended Hyeoncheon Sangje.
"What an insolent brat!"
"Ahem—."
But at their lord's restraining glance, they had no choice but to endure it.
"Did your father not learn the sword art handed down on Mount Baekdu from your grandfather, and become the foremost warrior of Goryeo?"
"And what good did that do him? Branded a worthless traitor—my father and mother died saving us…"
Yeong-hwa dug a finger into his ear.
"My grandfather fled with me and took a poisoned arrow. The aftereffects left him blind."
He shut his eyes and raised his voice.
"I've had enough of this life full of grudges! I'll join the road to the underworld right here!"
Hyeoncheon Sangje considered for a moment, then raised one eyebrow.
"What if I proposed this instead?"
At the sudden offer, Yeong-hwa's ears pricked up.
"Once I have finished my business in the Central Plains, I will grant you the chance to return to Goryeo and take your revenge."
At those words, Yeong-hwa shot upright from the ground and sat facing Hyeoncheon Sangje in perfect formal posture.
"Do you mean it?"
"If you speak of that bald monk who branded your father and your house as traitors…"
"Swear it, then."
"A god does not lie."
Hyeoncheon Sangje stretched out his hand.
A black serpent struck at once and sank its fangs into Yeong-hwa's right hand.
The mark of Xuanwu was seared into the back of his hand.
"This is the token that I shall watch over you."
Hyeoncheon Sangje smiled with benevolent kindness and went on.
"Now, then—do you feel more inclined to hear what I have to say?"
Yeong-hwa lowered his head.
"It is a pact!"
"Good. Let us move on to the heart of the matter."
Hyeoncheon Sangje stroked his beard with a faintly regretful look.
"By my authority and the merit you have earned, I have extended your lifespan by five years. That is the limit of what I can do."
"Then what am I supposed to do?"
"You must persuade the other gods."
Hyeoncheon Sangje sat atop the Black Tortoise and gazed up at the endless sky.
"I expect they are all in chaos—Ghost Gates have opened upon the sects and clans each of them watches over."
"Who opened the Ghost Gates, exactly?"
"It was the work of the Jade Emperor alone."
Hyeoncheon Sangje wore an expression that said there was nothing to be done about it.
"There has been so much bloodshed in the Central Plains—even the Jade Emperor has every right to be furious."
"If it's because of war, isn't that going too far?"
At that, Hyeoncheon Sangje drew his sword and swept it lightly downward.
A vast mirror appeared.
—Kyaaaaaaaah!
—Aaaaaaaah……!!
The mirror showed a hell of shrieking slaughter so complete that Yeong-hwa lost the power of speech.
At the head of the Blood Cult, Hyeolsin was forcing the living to their deaths and raising towers of corpses and blood.
"Yes—if it were merely war, one might understand. But they defy the heavenly order and forge blood jades from the living."
Wrath settled over Hyeoncheon Sangje's face as well.
"How could the gods leave such a thing unpunished?"
"This is what the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms and the Blood Cult did together?"
"It is. The true face of one who would defy the Mandate of Heaven and become a god."
As if he could not bear to look any longer, Hyeoncheon Sangje swept his sword once more and shut the mirror.
"The trouble is this: even among the gods, there are those who pretend to care for humankind while secretly agreeing with the Jade Emperor's will."
Hyeoncheon Sangje clicked his tongue.
"Fifty years from now, a council of the Heavenly Realm will be held."
He set a long pipe between his teeth.
"If the motion to close the Ghost Gates does not pass unanimously among the gods…"
He blew a stream of smoke into the empty air.
"…then the Ghost Gates will remain open upon the human world, and the roads of hell will spread across it."
"I have a question!"
Yeong-hwa thrust his hand high into the air.
"But the blood jade has already been broken."
Leaning against the Black Tortoise and puffing contentedly on his pipe, Hyeoncheon Sangje nearly tipped sideways.
"Broken?"
"Yes. When I threatened Sect Leader Baekmok that Hyeoncheon Sangje was about to descend, he suddenly…"
"Good heavens."
Hyeoncheon Sangje clutched his head as if it ached.
"If I had not seen it myself, I would say those who hate humankind veiled the eyes of the gods and did this."
"Whom do you mean?"
"You will learn that in time."
Hyeoncheon Sangje straightened his posture and spoke with a grave face.
"From this point on, it rests in your hands."
He fixed his gaze on Yeong-hwa.
"Whether it is vengeance that drives you or something else entirely—close the Ghost Gates, observe the many faces of humankind, and live your life with care."
Then he looked at Yeong-hwa with a spark of interest.
"Your early fortune was wretched—yet fate has given you noble benefactors in recompense."
"Benefactors?"
"Such is the balance of a man's allotted lot."
"Then what am I to do once I return to the living world?"
"Close the Ghost Gates, and gather the shards of blood jade that those beside them use to urge the gates open."
Hyeoncheon Sangje stroked Yeong-hwa's head with one great hand.
"If you hold proof that they meant to use the blood jade, even the gods who oppose you will not be able to move against you."
Yeong-hwa nodded as if he understood.
"Do not worry for your grandfather, your father, or your mother."
Hyeoncheon Sangje's voice was solemn.
"In recognition of the merit of their former lives, they have been reborn in a good place."
At those words, tears welled hot in Yeong-hwa's eyes.
"Do not cry, child. Are you so young already to wear tears for a constant companion?"
"I understand."
Watching Yeong-hwa rise with determined spirit, Hyeoncheon Sangje summoned one of the warriors nearby and whispered to him.
The warrior nodded in understanding and approached Yeong-hwa.
He grinned, then clenched his fist.
Yeong-hwa stared at him in blank confusion.
"Wh… what are you doing?"
"I mean to give you a little internal energy."
Thuuud—
The warrior's fist drove deep into Yeong-hwa's dantian.
"Ghhhk—!"
"It will hurt a little."
Yeong-hwa clutched his belly and lost consciousness on the spot.
As he fainted, Hyeoncheon Sangje's voice lingered at his ear, bidding him farewell.
"Hwaaaaaah!"
Yeong-hwa bolted upright—and found Hagun beside him, who had been laying a damp cloth across his forehead.
"Yeong… Yeong-hwa, young master!"
"Daoist Hagun."
Hagun rushed outside in haste.
Moments later, Hyeonsong entered with his shoulder bound thick in bandages.
He took Yeong-hwa's wrist and examined the flow of energy within.
"What is this…?"
At Hyeonsong's startlement, Hagun asked with a worried face,
"Is something wrong with young master Yeong-hwa's body?"
Hyeonsong seized Yeong-hwa by the shoulders.
"Yeong-hwa—how is it that you are practicing our sect's mind method?"
"Haa…"
Yeong-hwa let out a long breath and explained everything that had befallen him in the heavens.
Hyeonsong stroked his beard and spoke.
"I see. So Hyeoncheon Sangje himself…"
Hagun's eyes shone with tears as he addressed Yeong-hwa.
"Amitabha—this is Heaven's own decree that young master Yeong-hwa must become a disciple of Wudang."
Watching their reactions, Yeong-hwa looked up at the ceiling.
"I think so as well."
Hyeonsong rose from his seat.
"First, let us hold the rites."
Hagun helped Yeong-hwa into the Taoist robes of the Wudang Sect.
When Yeong-hwa stepped outside, eight elders of Wudang greeted him with formal bows.
Before Taehyeonjasogung, the residence of the Wudang Sect Leader, a single coffin waited.
Hyeonsong spoke with difficulty.
"That coffin holds your grandfather's body."
He sank to one knee so that his eyes met Yeong-hwa's, and continued.
"If you wish it, we can specially enshrine your grandfather's memorial tablet in the ancestral hall of the Wudang Sect."
Yeong-hwa smiled gently, as if to say it was all right.
"No. Grandfather spent half his life on Mount Baekdu in Goryeo. He said he was thoroughly sick of mountains."
"You mean Changbai Mountain?"
"Yes. That is what they call it in the Central Plains, isn't it?"
"He told me once—when he died, he wanted to be cremated, and his ashes scattered over a broad river or the sea…"
Yeong-hwa forced back his tears and finished.
"That is what he said."
At Hyeonsong's signal, a great pyre of timber was soon stacked before Taehyeonjasogung.
Looking at it, Hyeonsong said to Yeong-hwa,
"Behind Wudang Mountain lies Danjiang Lake."
"Is it deep and wide?"
"I believe Elder Myeong-yeon would have been thoroughly pleased with it."
When preparations for the cremation were complete, Hagun approached with a torch and held it out to Yeong-hwa.
"I think it would be best if young master Yeong-hwa did this himself."
"Thank you."
Yeong-hwa bowed his head at Hagun's consideration, took the torch, and walked toward the pyre on which the coffin rested.
He set the flame, and the fire leapt up at once, fierce and bright.
Beneath a clear sky, pale smoke spread outward, and with it Yeong-hwa let the memories of the past drift away.
Wiping the tears that ran down his face with his sleeve, he said to Hyeonsong and Hagun,
"The smoke stings."
In place of words of comfort, Hyeonsong stroked Yeong-hwa's head, and Hagun set a hand on his shoulder and patted it gently.
Yeong-hwa entered the Wudang Sect as a disciple.
Hyeonsong was recognized for the merit of stopping the calamity that had befallen the sect and of resolving the lingering grudge of the former Sect Leader. By the unanimous will of the elders, he was elevated to the position of Sect Leader.
Yeong-hwa became the only third-generation disciple of the sealed Wudang Sect.
Fortunately, his generation name already used the character Yeong, so there was no need to change his name.
At Hyeonsong's suggestion, Yeong-hwa devoted himself for a time wholly to cultivation within the Wudang Sect.
In his upper dantian was gathered the entire corpus of Wudang martial learning.
But his bones, sinews, and internal energy were still too weak to bring it forth, and his body had not fully recovered.
For that reason, Hyeonsong repeatedly charged him never to set foot beyond the mountain gate for at least two years.
Time slipped by.
Two years had passed since Yeong-hwa came to dwell among the Wudang Sect.
One day, as Yeong-hwa in his black Taoist robes finished his meal and stepped outside, first- and second-generation disciples gathered around him in twos and threes and hurried him off somewhere.
Soon after, deep in the mountain woods, Yeong-hwa's voice was heard.
"There—do you see this?"
Grains of rice lay scattered before them; Yeong-hwa pointed at the pattern with a twig.
"It means an ill omen has already entered the household."
At that, the first-generation disciple Hakseok seized Yeong-hwa's hand and asked urgently,
"How did you know that?"
"From the configuration, it seems the trouble lies with Senior Brother's mother…"
"That's right—exactly right, Yeong-hwa!"
"But this is a sickness of the heart. There is nothing my hands can do for it."
"What do you mean by that!"
Yeong-hwa frowned, then pushed the grains of rice this way and that with the twig.
"Senior Brother Hakseok—lend me your ear a moment."
After Yeong-hwa whispered for a short while, Hakseok shot to his feet and roared.
"That cannot be!"
Yeong-hwa heaved a deep sigh.
"If you weren't going to believe me, why did you ask me in the first place?"
Hakseok's face flushed red and purple by turns.
"How dare you insult my father!"
Hakseok stepped into his footwork and charged at Yeong-hwa.
"Senior Brother Hakseok, restrain yourself!"
"What are you doing to your junior brother!"
But Hakseok had already seized Yeong-hwa by the collar.
Unfazed, Yeong-hwa twisted Hakseok's wrist exactly as it was held.
Crrk—
At the same moment Yeong-hwa's body tilted backward, Hakseok, who had been leaning forward, lost his balance.
Seizing that instant, Yeong-hwa kicked Hakseok's foot away with a smooth, soft motion.
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud—
Hakseok spun once in the air and crashed down in an undignified sprawl.
Yeong-hwa frowned and brushed off his collar.
"Your training in Taiji Quan is still lacking, I see."
Hakseok was too mortified to lift his face.
Yeong-hwa clicked his tongue and clasped his hands behind his back.
"Well then—I'll be going."
The other first-generation disciples hurriedly helped Hakseok up.
His ankle hung loose—Yeong-hwa's kicking technique had dislocated it.
In that moment, resolve settled over Hakseok's face.
He shook off the junior brothers at his side and dropped to his knees before Yeong-hwa.
"I'm sorry, Yeong-hwa! I lost my head for a moment."
Hakseok pressed his palms together and pleaded.
"Is there truly no way?"
At that, Yeong-hwa's mouth curved in a crescent smile.
"If you are that desperate…"
As Yeong-hwa whispered something further, Hakseok's expression shifted from moment to moment.
"No—how could you know where Father keeps his bribe ledger?"
Hands still clasped behind his back, Yeong-hwa went on.
"If your mother has that ledger in her possession, I expect your father's wandering habits will correct themselves quite naturally."
"Thank you, Yeong-hwa. Thank you!"
Ssshhhhh—
Just then a wind rose among the pines of Wudang Mountain.
Someone brushed against Yeong-hwa's spiritual sense.
He lifted an arm to block the strike—but it was already too late.
Tap— tap— tap— tap—
Hagun's scabbard cracked down upon the heads of every disciple present.
"You little brats!"
"Senior Brother Hagun!"
Yeong-hwa clutched his head with a look of pure injustice.
"Why do you only ever appear at times like this, Senior Brother Hagun!"