The Eldest Daughter of the Sichuan Tang Clan Protects Her Family

Silence fell over the noisy gathering.
A man frowned and asked, “If the Blood Demon is that omnipotent, why did he pretend to be ruined for °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° decades and only show himself again three years ago? Why not just swallow the world whole?”
His voice carried blame.
“In my view, the Blood Demon never meant to show himself. Perhaps he planned to quietly seize the Central Plains. That way he could use the Central Plains’ systems as they were, and the people here wouldn’t resist. Taking it without loss might have seemed efficient—perfect rule, even. Didn’t he make a mess of things by clumsily gobbling up Outland sects, so that not only the Outland Five Palaces but even the Demonic Cult charged in to kill him?”
“Let’s concede, say he meant to manipulate the Central Plains from behind so he could exploit its system. Then why reveal himself now?”
“Exactly. I wondered that too.”
The silk-robed man who had been steering the talk whispered in a small voice, “Could it be that, by some mishap, the Blood Demon lost the method to twist time?”
Sohwa looked at Hae-rak beside her. As usual, his lips held a smile, but his eyes did not.
She parted her lips as if to ask, then closed them again.
If he couldn’t speak and had borrowed others’ mouths, questioning him like this would make it as if he had told her directly.
Just then, an answer came.
“He never planned to show himself, but he was exposed. To undo that, he would need to turn back time—but he’s lost the way to do it.”
The busybodies kept the conversation rolling.
Sohwa lowered her eyes to hide her expression and picked up her chopsticks. She pretended not to hear a thing and put a piece of fish in her mouth. Laughter fell over her head.
“Good thing the orthodox young lady is smart. I’ll live long and healthy.”
Sohwa’s sharpened gaze lifted.
“Don’t talk—chew thoroughly. That’s how digestion goes well, Sohwa.”
At his teasing, Sohwa set her chopsticks down.
In any case, she had no appetite; she felt like vomiting up even what she’d eaten that morning.
Her head swam at the unbelievable words.
The Blood Demon can handle time? No—could handle it?
In her previous life, she would have snorted that it was nonsense, but she couldn’t now.
Wasn’t she herself back in the past, suffering through this?
How could time be turned back at all?
If it was true the Blood Demon had lost that method, did it mean she now held the method he had lost?
No matter how she turned it over, Sohwa couldn’t find a way to move time.
Seeing Namgung Hyun’s death and the calculations on the paper, she had only thought Namgung Hyun was related to regression.
But it was hard to believe Namgung Hyun had returned time to the Blood Demon. The fall of the Outland Five Palaces had happened long before Namgung Hyun was even born.
Sohwa lifted her gaze to Hae-rak.
In her eyes was a man who used the lost martial art of the Sun Palace.
What exactly are you trying to tell me?
Suddenly, fear rose in her. She could not fathom how vast the Blood Cult’s structure might be, or what exactly the one called the Blood Demon held in his hands.
A bark of anger came from outside the window.

“What nonsense! If there really were a sorcery that could handle time, the world would’ve been unified long ago! The West and the East—no, a whole new continent beyond this one, even the sky—one man could have eaten it all!”
When someone said that, laughter burst out.
The silk-robed man laughed along and emptied his cup. “Ah, stop being so stiff. In gatherings like this, you need exaggerated tales. Still, isn’t it fun?”
“Heh-heh, it was fun. But the most entertaining has to be affairs of the bed, don’t you think?”
“Hey now, put away such indecent talk.”
“Come to think of it, it’s not bedroom talk, but I heard a recent cheong-yeon—a ‘pure bond’—floating around the murim.”
At the fresh topic, people snorted. Then they fell quiet, because what came next caught their interest.
“You know how Sichuan’s Tang Clan and the Namgung Clan each have a half-direct descendant? By coincidence, those two fell for each other.”
“Sichuan Tang and Namgung?”
They were clans no one interested in the martial world could fail to know. And with the direct lines of those great clans as the backdrop of this cheong-yeon, attention gathered naturally.
Meanwhile, a woman who had been listening quietly grimaced. Anyone could tell the story sounded like hers.
It felt even worse with the Blood Cult man before her holding back his laughter.
Oblivious to that, the busybodies began.
“I heard from a friend in the Namgung Clan that after the Family Alliance meeting, the Namgung household flipped upside down. Truth is, the Clan Head’s bastard son didn’t have a strong position, but when talk spread that he might become the Tang Clan Head’s son-in-law, the treatment changed entirely.”
“Well, he’s the Namgung Clan Head’s son and the Tang Clan Head’s son-in-law—whatever the inside story, outwardly that’s quite the background. Best to get in line now.”
“Right. Ah, but that’s not the end.”
“Oh? There’s an even juicier tale?”
The wanderer taking over the story had a good tongue. He knew how to stoke a listener’s interest just right.
He broke off, then whispered as if revealing a great secret.
“It’s about the Namgung Little Clan Head. They say the Tang Clan Head’s daughter was originally mixed up with Namgung Jin. While the Little Clan Head was in closed-door cultivation, that impudent bastard stole his half-brother’s woman!”
“Cough.”
Sohwa spat out the wine she had just swallowed.
Hae-rak burst into laughter, but it was soon drowned out by the groans rolling in from outside.
“What, he stole his elder brother’s beloved!”
“What sort of wretch deserves such heavenly punishment?! This is why you never take in black-haired beasts!”
“And that Tang Clan Head’s daughter is too much. How can a person have no loyalty—switching men the moment he goes into seclusion. Tsk, tsk.”
As Sohwa’s face twisted miserably, Hae-rak took a sip and casually asked, “So, which of the two Namgung men is your type?”
“If you’re going to keep spouting nonsense, let’s go.”
Sohwa stood up as if she had been waiting.
“Why? It’s entertaining. Stay and listen a bit more.”
A direct scion of the orthodox wouldn’t meekly sit and listen to a Blood Cult man. Tang Sohwa left the room as she was.
With a regretful look, Hae-rak drained the remaining cup. The dishes left on the table caught his eye. Though the table was full of appetizing food, Tang Sohwa had barely touched any of it.
Hae-rak shook his head and rose.
***
“Ah, let’s go together.”
Before she knew it, Hae-rak had come alongside her, matching her steps as they left the inn.
Sohwa spoke in a cold voice. “It’s probably better for you, too, if I don’t open my mouth today. I’ll take my leave.”
“I appreciate you sparing the taboo, but it’s not time to go just yet.”
The Blood Cult man’s red lips curved.
“Did you forget we were going for a boat ride?”
With black river water in her eyes, Sohwa let out a cold laugh. “A boat ride on the Yangtze at midnight… what, to become bandit fodder?”
“River bandits have to make a living too—would they really stir up trouble now, with orthodox folks swarming Wuhan?”
“Really? Hearing you say that, the waterway must be quite safe. You won’t be revealing your martial arts in a place crawling with orthodox warriors, either.”
She added with a sneer, “Unless you don’t mind your identity being exposed.”
“As if.”
Hae-rak frowned as though he’d heard something unthinkable. “Do you know how much I enjoy living as the handsome and wealthy Min Yeohong? Would I throw that away over a bunch of river rats?”
“……”
Sohwa’s eyes made her meaning plain, and Hae-rak chuckled.
He dropped the jokes and spoke sincerely. “I want to show you at a glance, for your safety. If my personal physician stays alive, I get to live longer too, don’t I?”
“What are you talking about? Speak so I can understand.”
Hae-rak’s eyes curved as he smiled prettily and then set off.
By the riverbank before the inn stood a post and a small ferry.
It was a very small, shabby ferry used to retrieve items drunkards dropped. Planting one foot to steady the rocking craft, Hae-rak looked at Sohwa.
“This is the way to make you understand.”
Tilt.
He jerked his chin, telling her to get in first.
Sohwa hesitated a moment, then stepped forward.
Sway.
The instant she boarded, regret crept in.
“Don’t worry. It won’t capsize.”
Fortunately, Hae-rak didn’t go far. He only drifted enough that the street noise no longer carried.
Buildings glittered like fireflies filling the night sky.
But contrary to the splendid view, a deep-voiced seriousness slipped into her ear.
“Remember what I said before? That an old man I know keeps two foot-wipers.”
Sohwa nodded.
“I found one in Guangdong, but I couldn’t locate the other and had been waiting. Then I heard he’d come to Hubei. He wasn’t after me—he was following you.”
Hae-rak’s voice was grave.
“With human-skin masks, he has no equal under heaven. Remembering his face is meaningless. He can take a perfect cast of a human being with clay, not just skin.”
His gaze slid to the riverside.
“The defrocked monk who went up to the inn’s third floor, the courtesans on the second floor of the pavilion next door, the stall-keeper at the stand across the way.”
Sohwa stared at the places he named. At that distance, people were the size of fingernails—but there were indeed people where he said.
At last, Hae-rak told her why he had brought her here.
“The signs aren’t good. Once we’re ashore, remember the scent of those men.”