Chapter 46
The Namgung Clan Head’s 80th Birthday Celebration
When the great celebration began, all the most distinguished martial artists of the land would inevitably gather in Hefei.
And the question on everyone’s mind was — who would the Tang Clan Head, Tang Cheongi, bring as his companion?
That single matter carried enormous weight, especially for the Sichuan Tang Clan, which had yet to appoint a successor.
“Everyone will be curious to see whom he chooses to take with him.”
Whomever Tang Cheongi chose to accompany him would clearly reveal where he intended to place his support — and that was the real issue.
Not just within the Tang Clan, but across all of Chengdu, even throughout the Central Plains, it had become a hot topic of gossip.
After all, Tang Cheongi was the only Tang patriarch in history who had not yet named a successor even after his children had reached adulthood.
And since there was no Grand Elder above him, no one in the clan could force him to make that decision early.
Thus, the question of whom he would take to the Namgung celebration had become far more than a matter of simple company.
“This isn’t merely about who accompanies him anymore…”
Tang Paejin, Tang Jinhyeon, and Tang Soyong all understood that well.
Though Tang Soyong hadn’t openly sided with either of her brothers, her eyes gleamed with unmistakable curiosity as she watched their father.
Not long after setting down the Namgung family’s invitation letter, Tang Cheongi finally spoke.
“I’ve decided.”
“Who will you—”
“Have Tang Bi prepare to accompany me.”
At those thunderous words, all three of his children’s eyes widened in shock.
But the most astonished of all, of course, was Tang Paejin.
“Wh-what…?! That’s absurd, Father! She’s only eight years old!”
“She is a child born with a body immune to all poisons — and more than that, she likely possesses the Spirit of Venom itself.”
“Father!”
“My decision is final! You will stay in Chengdu and handle the noisy affairs inside and outside the clan!”
Tang Cheongi then turned sharply toward his second son.
“And you, Jinhyeon — you will accompany us. Bi will need a guardian.”
Tang Paejin stood frozen, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly in disbelief.
Without even glancing his way, Tang Jinhyeon answered calmly,
“Yes, Clan Head. As you command.”
“Jinhyeon!”
Tang Soyong came hurrying out, grabbing her younger brother’s arm.
“Sister?”
She smiled faintly, her brow crinkling as though both pained and amused.
“Congratulations.”
“For what?”
“For Bi.”
She said it with a soft laugh, clutching his sleeve like she used to when they were young.
Then, like those distant days of childhood, she led him toward the pavilion by the lotus pond.
It was late at night.
Tang Jinhyeon let her guide him silently, climbing up to the pavilion before she finally released his arm.
Standing at the edge of the pavilion with her hands clasped behind her back, she turned to face him.
“Do you remember, Jinhyeon? What I said here long ago?”
Jinhyeon gazed at her quietly and nodded.
“Yes.”
How could he forget?
That day had become one of the most unforgettable memories of his life.
Over twenty years ago, his elder sister Tang Soyong had stood right here — and wept bitterly.
“I don’t want to marry anyone!”
“Sister…”
“Why can’t I learn the Poison Arts just because I was born a girl? It’s not fair!”
In the Tang Clan, women were forbidden even to approach the clan’s secret poison techniques — let alone practice them.
To Soyong, that was unbearable.
The traditions of their ancestors — this so-called legacy that bound them — felt nothing but oppressive to her.
She had wanted to change it.
But she couldn’t.
“I want to walk the martial world, Jinhyeon.”
“…”
“I don’t want to live like a flower in a greenhouse…”
But that was the Tang Clan’s law.
If the formulas and antidotes of their poisons ever leaked beyond the family, the clan’s power would be crippled.
So they prevented that risk entirely — by sealing their women away.
And in the process, countless girls like Tang Soyong became its silent casualties.
A girl’s heart, too, could dream and yearn.
How could she not have dreams, or goals, simply because she was female?
They listened to the same stories, saw the same world beyond the clan walls — and until marriage, lived the same lives.
And the tales of the great martial world beyond the inner walls of the Tang estate stirred something natural inside them — a wind.
It was inevitable that the wind would blow.
But they could never follow it.
Because the Tang Clan’s rules forbade it.
Resistance was impossible.
Long-standing law taught resignation.
The daughters of the clan didn’t learn how to pursue their dreams — they learned, slowly and painfully, how to give them up.
Tang Soyong had been no different.
Even though she possessed greater talent and intelligence than her older brother Tang Paejin, she had been forced to choose between two paths.
That was what “resignation” meant.
The two options were:
Prove that she had never practiced the Poison Arts and marry into another family.
Bring in a son-in-law from another great clan to live in the Tang household, continuing the direct bloodline.
Between those two choices, she had chosen the latter.
Thus, she married the fourth son of the Murong Clan — Murong Sayuk — who then severed his ties to his birth family and became a man of the Tang inner household.
From their union came three children.
Two of them had already grown up and entered the martial world years ago.
And yet—
“That wind still blows in Sister’s heart…”
Jinhyeon looked at his sister, who somehow still seemed as youthful as ever.
The moonlight illuminated her face — the same face once praised as the Flower of the Tang Clan, the most beautiful woman in all Sichuan.
As far back as he could remember, her face had always looked tinged with sadness.
Her beauty was heightened by her sorrow and solitude.
But now—
“If I had possessed talent like Bi’s, perhaps things might have been different.”
“Sister, that’s—”
“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel regret… but these days, the joy outweighs it.”
Her voice, calm and clear, flowed like a string of glass beads rolling gently over silk.
“In Bi — and in Father who accepted her — I see a kind of possibility, Jinhyeon.”
No, not glass beads.
That voice was far too firm, too unyielding, to be compared to anything so fragile.
“Perhaps that’s why I stayed here all this time.”
A soft breeze rippled across the quiet pond, brushing against her cheek.
Her soft brown hair fluttered beautifully in the moonlight.
“I want to watch your daughter for a long time.”
Tang Soyong had never taken sides — neither for Paejin nor for Jinhyeon.
Whoever became successor or patriarch, it had made no difference to her.
Her life would remain unchanged either way.
But what she said now… sounded very much like she had finally chosen to stand beside Jinhyeon.
“I like Bi.”
And in that moment, Jinhyeon realized that the wind stirring the pond had also begun to ripple within Soyong’s heart.
Gentle waves spread outward.
“Father!”
The moment Father returned to his quarters, I ran to him and threw myself into his arms.
He caught me effortlessly, his familiar hands lifting me up.
“Bi, has Cheonghyeon gone home?”
“Yes! But we promised to play again tomorrow.”
“So you’ve taken a liking to Cheonghyeon, have you?”
I hesitated, then nodded shyly in his arms.
“You like him?”
Nod.
“Really?”
“Oh, Father, why do you keep asking? Of course I do! He’s the first friend my age I’ve ever met!”
Besides, Cheonghyeon was remarkably mature for a boy his age — calm, polite, and easy to be around.
Father smiled faintly, placing his hand gently on my stomach and rubbing it in soft circles.
“Good. Cheonghyeon is a fine boy. He’ll be a good friend. And your injuries — they don’t hurt anymore?”
“No, I’m perfectly fine now.”
“Your insides?”
I knew at once he wasn’t talking about ordinary aches. Lowering my voice, I replied,
“I don’t feel anything strange. It’s completely calm inside.”
“Then that’s good. But if you ever feel pain or anything unusual, you must tell me immediately.”
“Yes, Father, I will.”
“Good. My good, precious—”
Cough!
Suddenly, Father turned away, covering his mouth with his sleeve as he coughed harshly.
Cough! Cough, hack!
The fit didn’t stop.
“F-Father!”
Startled, I slid down from his lap and rushed to his side.
Then I froze in horror when I saw it — the crimson stain seeping through the fabric of his sleeve.
Blood…!
He was coughing up blood.
He was hemorrhaging.
