The Eldest Daughter of the Tang Clan of Sichuan Protects the Family

Chapter 94. The Poison gu of Mount Hua

Tang Hak had certainly heard more good words in his life. The position he held made it so, and he knew that was a blessing.

Perhaps because of that, he found it hard to endure criticism.

No, wasn't Hwang Bo Rim, Zhuge Ji-hwi, and even Namgung Jin in the same situation? Yet they endured their clan head's scoldings well, didn't they?

Maybe Father's rebuke about his weak heart wasn't wrong after all.

'Why am I so weak...'

Tang Hak let out a sigh as he strolled through the quiet pavilion.

Usually, as the Martial Arts Tournament neared its end, the headquarters became quiet. Those who were eliminated left their burdens behind and went out into the bustling streets to mingle with other martial artists.

Tang Hak had received an invitation from Hwang Bo Rim, who had come with him to the tournament, but he declined and stayed at the headquarters.

He wasn't in the mood to go out and chat. And...

Tang Hak covered his face with his large hand.

'It's humiliating.'

Both Hwang Bo Rim and Brother Zhuge Ji-hwi had won the tournament in their respective years.

A candidate for the position of Young Lord was raised from childhood with elixirs and was personally taught profound martial arts by the most outstanding members of the clan.

They even showed him secret manuals hidden in the clan archives.

Thus, it was natural for the Young Lord to win among the young martial artists.

Due to the nature of martial arts, where one grows significantly through self-realization, the skill levels in childhood were generally similar.

It was a time when one memorized basic techniques, built up internal energy in the dantian, and merely formed the foundation.

The worth of a martial artist's vessel changed depending on what it contained.

But first, a proper vessel must be made to contain water or gold.

Now, they were fighting over empty vessels, so naturally, those who had been shaped by the hands of master artisans had a different starting point.

That's why he felt even more self-loathing.

Tang Hak covered his eyes.

'I'm really pathetic...'

In the clan, Tang Hak had been called a prodigy. He was quick to memorize techniques, could execute them precisely, and perhaps because of his easygoing nature, he didn't resort to tricks but patiently accumulated pure internal energy in his dantian.

Born with a robust martial bone, befitting a direct descendant of a martial clan, and even diligent, he too considered himself exceptional.

But now, even thinking back to when he felt that way, the past itself feels humiliating."

As time passed, others would surely grow by gaining enlightenment and fortuitous encounters. If he stayed like this, he would inevitably fall behind.

The Young Lord's role was to learn the duties of the Clan Head, as he was inevitably the one who would lead and protect the Tang Clan.

'In this state, how could I protect anyone or lead anyone?'

His thoughts sank endlessly. Tang Hak began digging a mental hole in despair.

It was then.

"The Tang Clan’s atmosphere must be terrible. How did the Young Lord not even make it to the semifinals?"

Tang Hak stopped walking at the words he heard over the wall.

"The Tang Clan's always been weak in the Martial Arts Tournament. I heard they've never won even once."

"Ah, they say they're the best in life-and-death duels? How long are they going to keep harping on that?"

At those words, Tang Hak's expression hardened. He could accept insults directed at himself, but hearing his clan insulted made his blood boil.

But the clueless ones continued speaking with a serious tone.

"Isn't resorting to poison or throwing hidden weapons a sign of lacking confidence in one's martial arts? Claiming to be the best in life-or-death duels feels like mental gymnastics—and it's quite unimpressive."

"Actually, everyone thinks that, they just don't say it. Usually, the first place doesn't care much about criticism, but the last place is sensitive to being called lacking, so people are careful."

"By the way, did you see that Wudang swordsman's duel? It was amazing. As expected, the Sword Saint's disciple is different."

"Ah, of course I saw it! When that Peng Clan member flew through the air wielding that huge sword, I couldn't tell if I was watching a Martial Arts Tournament or an acrobatic performance."

Before Tang Hak could get angry, the flow of conversation changed.

The ridicule seemed like no big deal.

The voices of the unknown sect members faded into the distance.

Tang Hak, feeling utterly humiliated and drained, turned his steps somewhere else.

***

"Are you that happy?"

"Didn't you see it too, Young Lady? Yesterday, Jeom-chil—no, Yeon-ah! She effortlessly swung a sword as big as her own body!"

The Divine Physician, unable to contain his excitement, grinned widely.

So-hwa followed with a gentle smile. It was surprising to see the always composed Divine Physician so caught up in his excitement.

Since the Tang Clan's Medical Hall now had no more tasks, So-hwa came out with the Medical Hall members to watch the Martial Arts Tournament.

Being the semifinals, the crowd was enormous.

The match between the youngest Plum Blossom Swordsman and the disciple of the Tai Chi Sword Saint had drawn even more people.

Up until then, they had taken turns going to watch the matches, so this was So-hwa's first time seeing Yeon-ah's match.

So-hwa and Tang Hae-han had stayed behind at the Medical Hall during Yeon-ah's matches so that Divine Physician could watch comfortably.

Dong.

At the sound of the drum signaling the start, Yeon-ah and Myung-dan stepped onto the martial platform.

Suddenly, Yeon-ah turned her gaze in this direction. She and the Divine Physician seemed to be exchanging something through their eyes.

So-hwa quietly averted her gaze.

In the reserved area behind the platform, high-ranking officials from the headquarters and Murim Alliance members could be seen. The sect leaders and clan heads sat on the second floor, while the branch heads from each region sat on the third floor.

But there was one empty seat at the center of the second floor.

'I've never heard that the Alliance Leader was seriously ill...'

So-hwa searched her memory, but in her previous life, there had been no incident where the Alliance Leader had been unwell. If he was absent from such a major event due to poor health, it should have been something she would remember, and it felt strange.

At that moment, Tang Hae-han, standing next to her, asked in a reluctant tone.

"So-hwa, why is Lady Yeon-ah glaring at you like that? Weren't you two close?"

Startled by the odd comment, So-hwa looked toward the martial platform. In that instant, her eyes met Yeon-ah's.

So-hwa flinched. Indeed, Yeon-ah was staring at her with eyes that seemed about to ignite.

"What's with her?"

"... I don't know either."

"Why would she be mad at you? Does she think you got her kicked out of the Tang Clan or something?"

"No way."

Things had worked out so well.

She had become the disciple of the Tai Chi Sword Saint, and everyone was convinced she would win the tournament.

If she held a grudge against me after all this, she'd be completely without conscience.

After all, I had paved the path of a martial artist's life with nothing but flowers.

"Why are you so quiet, Young Lord?"

Tang Hae-han asked Tang Hak, who was standing behind him.

Tang Hae-han and So-hwa were close to Tang Hak and spoke comfortably in private, but in public settings, they used formal speech.

However, Tang Hak did not answer and avoided Tang Hae-han's gaze with a gloomy expression.

So-hwa was about to speak up out of concern.

"Oh, what's this? Taoist Master Muso is coming down?"

The spectators nearby began to murmur.

So-hwa's gaze was drawn back to the martial stage.

The two ends of the stage were reserved for the masters, but suddenly, Muso descended from the stage toward the audience. Specifically, he was heading toward the area where the Tang Clan's Medical Hall physicians were gathered.

So-hwa, suspecting the reason, fumbled inside her sleeve. Her hand closed around Muso's token.

After arriving at the headquarters, she had been trying for days to return the token to Muso, requesting meetings at Mount Hua, but had been repeatedly refused with the excuse of busyness.

Well, it made sense. His sick disciple had just barely recovered and advanced to the semifinals, so he wouldn't have had the leisure to worry about other things.

It seemed Muso had spotted So-hwa in the audience and was now coming down to retrieve the token.

A disciple of Mount Hua standing in the front row made way for Muso with a respectful martial salute.

Since all martial artists showed courtesy to an elder of Mount Hua, So-hwa also withdrew her hand from her sleeve and returned the salute.

Step.

Muso stopped right in front of her and smiled.

"It's been a while."

"Have you been well?"

"I have something to say after the match, so stay here. I'll come back then. I came all the way here just to tell you this because I was afraid you might disappear, so don't leave this spot no matter what."

"If it's about the token, I can just—"

As So-hwa tried to take out the token, Muso furrowed his brows.

"You really don't know proper manners, do you?"

"Pardon?"

"Until I ask for it back, you should stay still."

Is there such etiquette in the Central Plains?

So-hwa frowned at the unfamiliar words.

If that was truly etiquette, it certainly wasn't one widely practiced. Who in the world would hand over their identity token to someone else? And what kind of audacious person would snatch the Plum Blossom Swordmaster's token?

She thought it might be a Taoist's kind of etiquette, so she quietly bowed in return.

"Yes. I will do so."

Having said this, Muso returned to his seat.

Tang Hae-han asked with a displeased voice,

"What's that about? Why is he like that?"

"I don't know either."

"... Why don't you know anything?"

"My older brother doesn't know anything either, so how would I?"

As the talented members of the Nine Turns Pavilion engaged in their usual debate, the sound of a drum echoed.

Dong.

Dong.

The two beats seemed to signal the start, and the disciples of Wudang and Mount Hua stepped forward and faced each other.

They performed respectful martial salutes and exchanged brief greetings. They seemed to say a few words, but the sound was too soft for So-hwa, standing behind, to hear.

Dong.

At the third drumbeat,

Yeon-ah's form rapidly shot forward.

Kkirik.

The chilling sound of clashing blades scraped the eardrums.

The strength of the two martial artists was evenly matched. The blades pressed against each other without slipping, making no further noise.

Myungdan was the first to retreat.

As if anticipating his move, Wudang's disciple stepped forward to pursue.

Kaang. Kang. Kang. Kaang.

The sequence of moves was rapid, yet not a single one was wasted; each connected perfectly with the opponent's sword.

"Wow, they're going all out from the start. Truly fitting for the semifinals."

"Taoist Yeon-ah seems to have already grasped all the movements. Her steps move almost simultaneously with Taoist Myungdan's."

"I've heard that Mount Hua's swordplay is magnificent, but seeing it in person is truly awe-inspiring. It changes in an instant, so predicting its direction is useless."

Sword arts like Quick Sword and Changing Sword were mentioned, followed by explanations of sect sword techniques like Nine Palaces Sword and Seven Plum Sword.

Listening to the excited voices of the martial artists, So-hwa's face gradually hardened.

It wasn't because the match had become chaotic.

A warm sensation tickling her skin made her step forward.

The excited martial artists briefly frowned, thinking someone was cutting in line, but the match was so captivating that they quickly turned their attention back to the front.

Pushing through the crowd to the front row, So-hwa finally stopped moving.

The warmth touching her skin became more distinct.

The pure energy of the Taoist was quickly circulating, spreading its heat into the surroundings.

Within that flow, there was a disturbing ripple.

As the residual heat tingled against her cheek, So-hwa stiffened.

From Myungdan's internal energy, she sensed the Poison gu of the Blood Sect.