The Eldest Daughter of the Sichuan Tang Clan Protects Her Family

Because most people had flocked to the duel grounds to see who would make the finals, the other buildings at headquarters were quiet.
Sohwa walked along the path Tang Hak had taken.
After passing one section of wall, she saw Tang Hak’s back as he sat in a pavilion.
The uncharacteristic posture made puzzlement spread in Sohwa’s eyes. A corner of her heart also turned cold.
It was because the Tang Hak of the past—now feeling far away—came to mind.
Her brother from her previous life, who had built walls in his heart, overlapped with the sight before her.
Even when she climbed the pavilion, Tang Hak did not look at Sohwa.
“May I sit?”
“…”
Instead of answering, Tang Hak shifted to the side. It meant “sit.”
Sohwa sat at the end of the long bench and looked straight at him.
Even though he had made room, Tang Hak still sat with his back turned, as if his heart were ill at ease.
Sohwa could not understand this reaction.
Looking at the chilly Tang Hak, she chose her words—and stripped away all ornament.
“To be honest, it’s hard for me to grasp your feelings or Yehwa’s and Yuhwa’s. You think differently from me, and you feel slighted or pleased at things I don’t even think of.”
“…”
“I don’t know why your mood turned bad now either. So of course I can’t know what I did wrong.”
Sohwa pressed her lips together for a time, then spoke after a long pause.
“Even if you don’t tell me, I can still apologize—but I want to know why your mood soured. That way I can be careful going forward.”
Tang Hak’s back gave a big flinch.
He creaked as he turned his head and wore a shocked expression.
“…Why are you speaking like that?”
“What about it?”
“No, saying you apologize is strange enough, but saying you’ll be careful from now on—so surprising I can’t think at all right now.”
“Is it meant well?”
“…Would it be meant well?”
As Tang Hak narrowed his eyes, Sohwa’s eyes narrowed too.
At that reaction, Tang Hak let out a hollow laugh and then sighed.
“It isn’t your fault, Sister. I know you meant well. I do, and yet… even knowing, I don’t feel good. And I’m not angry at you; I left because I needed time to think, so please don’t worry.”
“If you didn’t feel good, then I must have done wrong. So instead of trying to find an answer inside you, just tell me honestly, in the very mood you’re in. You’re allowed to.”
“…Your apology is peculiar.”
Tang Hak looked at Sohwa with a reluctant face. She had said she didn’t know her fault, yet here she was taking a humble posture.
And strangely, he felt as if someone had grabbed him by the collar and was shaking him, telling him to curse.
When Sohwa waited in silence for him to speak, Tang Hak realized she meant it.
Hesitating, he opened his mouth.
“I’m really not angry at you. It’s that…”
Having broached it with difficulty, Tang Hak spilled his words.
“I’m ashamed of myself.”
As if he had been wanting to confide in someone.
“I thought I was a humble person, but realizing I was actually arrogant has left me unsettled. No—unsettled isn’t it; I’m angry. Why was I taught to mistake myself for a prodigy? Why was I fed elixirs, only to be told even after taking them that this was all I could do?”
Staring at the ground as he spoke, Tang Hak raised his head.
“…Resentment spills out toward those close to me. I get angry at those better than me; I only flare for a moment at those who mock me, but toward the people around me I feel base emotions. I keep searching in my head for their faults—as if I want to shift the blame.”
Biting his lip, Tang Hak averted his eyes.
“To be frank, I felt that way toward you too, Sister. I know you did that with good intentions toward me with Elder Wu So, but I was so humiliated. Maybe I still look like a child in your eyes, but I am not so lacking that I need to rely on you to receive a senior’s protection.”
Tang Hak sighed.
“No, that’s not right. Well, it’s not entirely wrong either. I…”
Sohwa did not cut him off; she took in the sight of him speaking.

It must have been hard to open up like this.
Sohwa had much she wanted to say, but held her tongue a little longer—so he could pour out more.
“I don’t have the skill to refute those who mock me, nor can I improve and prove their judgment wrong. My current level is probably the highest station I’ll ever be acknowledged for in my life. Just thinking that makes my chest tight and fills me with fear. Three years ago we saved Yeon-a, but seeing her today, she’s not someone I can beat. It’s only been three years of training, and already she’s that far—myself, I look so small.”
Sohwa truly reflected.
She had not known Tang Hak was agonizing this much over his martial level.
'And yet I treated him openly like a child before so many people…'
It was only because he was kind by nature that he could not get properly angry; otherwise, it was a matter for even greater anger.
Unable to hold back, Sohwa cut in.
“I’m sorry. But I didn’t do it because I thought you were lacking.”
A sigh threaded through her voice.
“It’s because I’m lacking.”
“Pardon?”
“Because I’m still lacking, I couldn’t suppress my anxiety. In fear that I might lose you, I failed to mind your face.”
At her words, Tang Hak looked up.
“Pardon? Lose me?”
At the out-of-the-blue line, his eyes went wide.
Sohwa stared at her brother and smiled.
“Truth is, I had a bad dream.”
“What kind of dream?”
“A dream that you fell into the Yangtze and died.”
“Me? All of a sudden?”
Tang Hak frowned and drew his head back, but his sister nodded. It wasn’t a joke.
“You went to the Yangtze and fell in and died. It was a dream, and I know it isn’t reality, yet I’m still uneasy.”
Tang Hak’s gaze fell to Sohwa’s hands.
Strangely, his sister’s hands were trembling in tiny shakes.
Because she was not someone to be frightened by a mere dream, Tang Hak focused on her words with a serious air.
“If Elder Wu So’s name were attached to you, more people would know you, and if you were ever in danger, even those with no connection might help. Thinking back on it, I must have been treating you as a little brother, not a martial artist.”
His sister let out a sudden bitter laugh.
“Right. You’re no longer a boy. And yet I still remember you as young. Because I don’t know the you who became an adult—no, because I didn’t try to know… I’m sorry.”
Tang Hak involuntarily knit his brow.
“Sister, you keep saying you’re sorry; it feels strange. You’re not turning it around to scold me because I left, are you? I don’t handle that sort of thing well.”
When he spoke so squarely, Sohwa let out a small laugh.
“No. I meant that I’ll be careful so this doesn’t happen again.”
Though he couldn’t quite shake the uneasy look, Tang Hak stepped back a pace.
“Fine. That’s enough. As I said, I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at myself.”
He sighed again.
“I really don’t know. Why am I so incompetent? The Elders talk like I’m some prodigy—ah, I don’t know. If I become Clan Head… I think the Tang Clan will be ruined.”
Tang Hak raised both hands and buried his face.
Sohwa pulled his hands down and spoke firmly.
“No. That could never be.”
With eyes full of doubt, Tang Hak looked at her and asked back,
“Truly? If I become Clan Head… won’t that be a calamity for the Tang Clan?”
Sohwa smiled. It was a smile whose meaning was unclear.
Of late, his sister often wore that sly expression. And whenever he faced it, he felt uneasy for no reason.
Frowning, Tang Hak asked,
“…Why are you smiling?”
With a short breath, Sohwa answered,
“If the Tang Clan’s ‘calamity’ is only you, there’s no greater blessing for the Tang Clan.”
Lowering her hand, she added softly,
“And we must work so it becomes so.”
“…”
Unable to understand, Tang Hak closed his mouth.
Into the silence, peaceful birdsong quietly slipped.
Feeling awkward, Tang Hak grew uncomfortable being with his sister.
Pretending to understand, he cocked his lips and stood.
“I should head back. Brother Hae-han said he wanted to look around Wuhan; today I should go out with him. The duel tournament ends in a few days, after all.”
“Good. Then I won’t have to hear that Wuhan chant anymore.”
Sohwa answered with a much-eased face, but did not rise with him.
Tang Hak cocked his head.
“You should go back to watch the duels too. The next match is Young Hero Namgung Hyun’s.”
Though Sohwa spent most of her time in the Medical Division, she had made sure to watch all the Tang Clan’s matches and Namgung Hyun’s.
But she did not look like she intended to return to the grounds.
“I’ll go in a bit. When the duel starts, everyone will be focused there; I’ll go then. If I go now, I’ll draw eyes for nothing.”
“Ah… that’s true.”
A bit abashed, Tang Hak scratched the back of his head.
Given the ruckus, he himself had been involved; he could understand her keeping her distance. He himself was too embarrassed to even think of going back—how much more must it be for his sister, who had been at the center.
Deciding she intended to watch from behind in secret, Tang Hak left first, leaving Sohwa there.
In any case, he wasn’t going back to watch the match, and still feeling unwell, he wanted to leave the headquarters teeming with martial artists and get some air.
Once he was gone, Sohwa turned her gaze and looked at the opposite wall.
At the strange smell drawing closer, she calmly watched that spot.
The presence was clearly approaching, but she felt no ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ sign of a person. Even in such stillness, she heard no footsteps on the gravel path.
When at last a “doll” appeared over the wall, Sohwa understood why.
A uniform bearing the Martial Alliance’s emblem and short-cropped hair seized the eye.
He was one of the headquarters people who sat on the dais when she went to watch Namgung Hyun’s matches a few times—the Master of the Four Seasons Pavilion, who sat beside the Deputy Alliance Leader in the Alliance Leader’s empty seat.
Sohwa knew he was blind, but she rose to her feet. Bringing her hands together, she lowered her gaze and saluted.
“I greet you, Pavilion Master.”
Stopping steps away, the Master of the Four Seasons Pavilion smiled.
“It seems you knew I was coming. You kept your eyes on me.”
“No, I was staring at the hall without thinking.”
Smiling back, Sohwa added,
“I didn’t hear a single sound, and then you appeared, so to be honest I was a little startled.”
When she gently reproached him for hiding his presence, the Pavilion Master’s eyelids lowered. His half-closed eyes held his counterpart with careful measure, as if weighing something.
For the first time in her life, Sohwa faced Zhuge Inhwi.
But she had heard rumors about this person to the point of exhaustion.
'So that’s how such absurd rumors spread so far.'
Now she could see why tales clung to him—like being able to see through a person’s insides.
The faintly moving, unfocused eyes made people tense. Unless one was a seasoned swindler, they would creak at the front like a badly oiled hinge and show awkwardness.
Sohwa let him observe her at ease, allowed that rude silence to continue.
The silence stretched on for quite a while.
Even so, Zhuge Inhwi still seemed unable to arrive at an answer.
A voice without certainty broke the quiet.
“The Alliance Leader wishes to see you, Young Lady Tang.”
It was surprising, but Sohwa was not greatly flustered.
Since Hae-rak had said he would arrange a meeting with the Alliance Leader, it seemed plausible.
The winner of the duel tournament would soon be decided, and she would have to leave headquarters.
It was only unexpected that the Master of the Four Seasons Pavilion had quietly sought her out to deliver that line.
Was Hae-rak’s reach really that far already? He wasn’t even a great merchant master yet, only a sub-master.
Apparently knowing that Sohwa would follow, Zhuge Inhwi did not add further explanation and turned his body.
“Come with me.”
Crunch.
The sound of gravel underfoot rang loud.
Sohwa looked at the blade-straight back of the Pavilion Master and then stepped after him.