The Eldest Daughter of the Sichuan Tang Clan Protects Her Family

The night was pitch black. Amid the darkness, crimson plum blossoms bloomed.
As countless red lights flared, briefly illuminating the surroundings, the sleek form of someone not quite human was revealed.
Though his eyes were ghostly cold, his tone was gentle.

“What a shame. You too were born with such precious talent.”
The masked figure let his gaze rest on the Mount Hua disciple’s uniform. The once-white robes were soaked in blood, stained a deep blackish red.
The few patches of white that remained seemed to mirror the last traces of his life.

The Plum Blossom Swordsman strained with all his might, but words barely emerged.
“You…”
The Blood Cult man stood silently, as though expecting him to finish.

“This mountain… you will not… descend…”
“Those are your last words?”
The Blood Cult man, who had spent the whole fight clawing at his opponent’s nerves, now asked seriously. The contrast made a bitter laugh escape. The Mount Hua disciple furrowed his brow through the blood.
“They… are not my last.”

He raised his sword as he spoke. His trembling arms were unsteady, his qi scattering wildly in all directions.
“…But you look like you’ll die even if I do nothing.”
At Hae-rak’s remark, the swordsman gripped tighter to hide his shaking.

An enemy, but worthy of applause. This was why coming down into the Central Plains was real.
Hae-rak suddenly felt curious.
Would this orthodox fool maintain such bravado even before death?

Shaaak.
At that moment, darkness split before his eyes. A streak of crimson sword qi tore through the night, rushing at him.
Seizing the instant when Hae-rak had let his mind wander, the Plum Blossom Swordsman struck with a desperate blow.

Hae-rak raised his hand and caught the blade aimed for his heart. At once, the swirling crimson energy was sucked wholly into his palm.
The Plum Blossom Swordsman tried to draw back quickly. He meant to cut down at Hae-rak’s neck, but his body froze.
A massive hand had already clamped around his throat.

“Ghhk!”
Heat spread through his neck’s meridians, racing upward to the crown of his head. It burned through his body, igniting his qi.
“Kuuaaaagh!”

His torn scream announced the impending end.
Then—
Kwa-gwa-gwang!
Thunder crashed somewhere, trees shaking violently.

Hae-rak’s lips curved.
“At times like this, I almost envy the orthodox.”
He felt the aura of another swordsman drawing near. Clicking his tongue like a sigh, Hae-rak muttered.

“Those old orthodox geezers know no shame. Begging for attention just to save their cubs.”
The other had surely sensed his energy. Yet despite coming alone, the Mount Hua elder showed no fear of revealing his position. In fact, he seemed intent on luring Hae-rak toward him.
The constant blasts of sword qi cracked trees as the sound drew closer.

A strange heat lit Hae-rak’s eyes.
He was about to pull down his mask when a cool voice brushed his ear.
“Do not reveal your face under any circumstance.”

“Why?”
“The Zhongnan group has also shifted their direction. A complete annihilation of the search unit would be too much of a burden. Withdraw for now.”
The words rang in his ears relentlessly.

The sudden counsel snuffed out the fire like a candle. With a look of regret, Hae-rak left the cloth draped over his nose.
Releasing his grip, he let the Plum Blossom Swordsman’s body slump to the ground. Smoke still rose from the man’s body, but his breath lingered.
The Vice Unit Leader moved to finish him, but Hae-rak laughed.

“Leave him.”
Golden light flickered in his green eyes as they watched the blood-drenched Plum Blossom Swordsman.
“Leave the cub alive, so the mother will come chasing.”

The Vice Unit Leader withdrew his hand in assent.
“But why did you come here silently, Lord?”
Frowning, he scanned their surroundings. Yet the untrustworthy Lord seemed to have already vanished.

Unbothered, as if used to such things, the Vice Unit Leader ran on. Reaching the foot of the mountain, he found a man in a pale pink robe.
Even the shimmering folds of the moonlit garment paled before the man’s smiling face.
“Move faster, will you? A servant slower than his master—what use is that?”

“My apologies. I was delayed because a superior fled without cleaning up his mess.”
“That’s your fortune, then.”
“….”

The Vice Unit Leader cast him a disloyal glance before changing clothes.
Clad in fine silk robes, the two walked naturally from the mountain’s edge into the entrance of Hubei.
By the time the surroundings grew noisy, the Lord spoke.
“Who could have opened the passage?”

Though murmured like to himself, reproach laced the words.
The Vice Unit Leader answered with a blank face.
“It wasn’t done from this side. Likely someone from Geumeunsan.”

Geumeunsan did not mean a mountain of the Central Plains.
A place where the plains were filled with sand, and the peaks capped with ice.
It was the hidden stronghold of the Blood Cult within the Aigeum Range.

Wrapped in an illusionary formation, the Blood Demon’s citadel gave the impression of standing on golden sands by day and a silver snowfield by night.
Thus the master of the land called it Geumeunsan. The mad master had named it so, and all who followed the Blood Demon called it the same.
‘Not even a treasury—what kind of house seeks gold and silver?’

Hae-rak clicked his tongue, mocking the Blood Demon.
“Well, I suppose it’s about time the main sect grew greedy again.”
A sigh escaped him.

“Our old man—what endless greed. As if he doesn’t already have enough.”
The Vice Unit Leader, accustomed to such insolence, let the words pass in silence. But Hae-rak pressed again, demanding a reply.
“They’ll return once they’ve gauged the mood, won’t they?”

“They may already have crossed back.”
Hae-rak narrowed one eye.
“Could it be the Jeokhyeoldang?”

“Since that was the original order, if anyone came, it would likely be them.”
As they entered the street, the crowd’s noise filled the space between them. The Lord smiled oddly.
“If it were the Jeokhyeoldang Lord, he would have sought me the moment he arrived. Why so quiet?”

“Perhaps he means to be cautious. Things have only just calmed down. If he provokes you now, you might overturn everything again, which would cause no end of trouble.”
“Like now?”
“….”

So you do understand.
The Vice Unit Leader looked at him with weary eyes.
Swallowing a sigh, he asked carefully.

“What will you do when that man regains consciousness?”
“I’ll praise him. Isn’t he quite something?”
“My lord.”

Choosing his words, the Vice Unit Leader revealed his unease.
It had been three years since the Lord entered the Anguk Merchant Group.
Just days ago, traces of an open passage had been found in Shaanxi. Someone from the main sect had crossed over, yet none had sought out the Jeokhyeoldang.

Displeased, Hae-rak had crossed into Shaanxi himself, stirring trouble.
After painstakingly erasing signs of the Blood Cult’s presence, he had once more raised vigilance against them.
“If you’ve cooked the porridge for the dog, shouldn’t you let it eat? It’s barely had a few bites, and now you snatch the bowl away? What sense is that?”

He exaggerated a frown as he spoke.
“Even a dog is left alone while it eats. But the one who mocked them as curs and hung the Jeokhyeoldang plaque seems to have forgotten a dog’s nature. Tsk, tsk. If you ask me, the old man’s lost his wits.”
“If we go by your words, he lost them long ago.”

At the Vice Unit Leader’s agreement, Hae-rak smiled.
“If the hound is thought useless, then we’ll just have to make it useful again. It’s too soon to toss it in the pot, with so much yet undone.”
“Must we create usefulness in this way?”

“Why not?”
“Doesn’t it feel like all your efforts have gone to waste?”
The Vice Unit Leader had seen firsthand how hard his Lord had worked to erase the Blood Cult’s traces. And yet, today, he himself had ruined three years of achievements.

The Vice Unit Leader had heard the report that a passage had opened together with the Lord. And fearing the Lord might cause trouble, he had stayed at his side all day.
Looking at how things had unfolded, he thought his judgment deserved praise. The Lord had not strayed from expectation. That insane superior of his had indeed attacked the Shaanxi branch’s search unit today.
It seemed his aim was to provoke the Martial Alliance’s vigilance once again.

The Shaanxi branch martial artists, perceiving the Lord as no ordinary opponent, had smuggled out the youngest-looking disciple. It seemed like a signal to request reinforcements, but their true intent was likely to keep the boy away from danger.
That had only piqued the Lord’s mischief.
He suddenly pursued the young swordsman.

The Vice Unit Leader, uneasy, had forced himself to scatter the Mount Hua martial artists far away so he could quickly follow after Hae-rak. That too had been a sound decision.
‘Why in the world did he try to expose his face…?’
His superior’s incomprehensible behavior made the Vice Unit Leader’s head ache. And then, the Lord spoke yet another maddening line.

“I’m bored.”
“…Ah, you’re bored, my lord?”
Though he narrowed his eyes in reproach, Hae-rak stretched and nodded.

“How has the old man managed to hide for so long? Remarkable, really.”
“…”
“I used to hate seeing him do nothing while dreaming so big. But doing nothing is actually the hardest thing in the world.”

He wanted to ignore it, but the unsettling words kept coming.
Unable to answer, he stayed silent, and suddenly the Lord sighed.
“No. To seize such a vast land, that much hardship is nothing.”

“…”
“A child who hasn’t suffered doesn’t deserve to eat at the Tang table, wouldn’t you say?”
The Vice Unit Leader tried to resist replying, but it was useless.

His tightly clenched lips parted at last.
“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it, Young Master.”
But his superior only smiled with that handsome face, offering no answer.

***
Three years was not a short time, but the Tang Clan’s Medical Division had changed more than most.
Tang Hae-han wiped his forehead and paused in his scrubbing.

“Expansion isn’t always a good thing.”
Sorting baskets of medicinal herbs at his side, Sohwa lifted her head.
Having someone to listen, Tang Hae-han vented his complaints in earnest.

“If the halls have doubled, shouldn’t the manpower increase as well?”
“Then go to the Medical Division Head and tell him. Say the Medical Division lacks hands and needs more people.”
“…I was only speaking idly.”

At the mention of the Medical Division Head, Tang Hae-han bent again to his mopping.
As the son of the Division Head, he knew too well how seriously his father regarded the budget, so he quietly resigned himself to reality.
It had been three years since the Blood Cult had resurfaced.

The Division Head had devoted more effort than anyone to protecting the records of the Medical Division. He had barred even the blind servant who used to clean there, so now the disciples themselves had to maintain the hall.
They should have grown used to it over time, yet cleaning felt harder with each passing day.
Of course—it was because the expansion had doubled the space that needed tending.

Tang Hae-han, still unaccustomed even after years, scrubbed stubbornly at a stain on the stone tablet. A calm voice reached him.
“Don’t waste your strength, Brother. Stains like that won’t come out with force. Soak a cloth with that solution and leave it for half a day. It’ll vanish on its own.”
“Really?”

Tang Hae-han obeyed at once, placing the medicated cloth on the mark.
He had expected Sohwa to complain the most about their father’s decision, but she had no complaints at all—and cleaned as neatly as a trained servant.
That struck him as strange.

Tang Sohwa was not the type to pity struggling servants and help with chores, nor one to show curiosity about cleaning.
‘Where did she even learn this?’
Yet she handled the hall perfectly, like a long-suffering stepmother caring alone for her home.

Well, there were many strange things about her.
Since three years ago, Sohwa had changed a lot. Whatever she had gone through at Mount Emei must have been quite a shock.
Tang Hae-han lowered his eyes again and focused silently on his work.

He had already fallen behind in his studies; he didn’t want to lose even in cleaning.
The two spent the whole day laboring, and when they stepped outside carrying a stone tablet together, someone called to them.
“Sister! Ah, Brother Hae-han, you’re here too?”

A tall, bright youth ran toward them with a cheerful smile. As he drew near, Tang Hae-han’s face turned aghast.
“What on earth—what have you been eating to grow so tall?”
He gaped, craning his neck upward just to meet his eyes.

But Tang Sohwa showed no surprise at the transformation of Tang Hak, even after so long.
“What are you doing here? What about your training?”
It had been over two years since he was sent to Mount Emei for training. Sohwa remained calm at her brother’s return.

But Tang Hak, overcome with emotion, spoke with tearful eyes.
“Father called me down at once. {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} Sister, don’t be shocked—I think I’ll be dispatched to the Sichuan branch. At last, I have a chance to escape this hellish training—no, to be recognized as the pride of the Tang Clan.”
At those words, Sohwa’s eyes narrowed.

Tang Hae-han too, unable to believe it, asked again.
“Did the Clan Head truly say he’s sending you to the Sichuan branch?”
“He didn’t mention Sichuan directly, but I sense it’s coming. The Shaanxi branch recently requested support from our Sichuan branch.”

Tang Hak emphasized proudly,
“And I was chosen to represent us at the Shaanxi branch.”