Chapter 62
Clatter.
“Long ago, there weren’t so many poisonous creatures.”
Grandfather began his story.
“Before the Thousand Poison Forest earned its name—back when the Tang Clan had only one poison master, and our main source of income was from forging iron—it wasn’t easy to obtain poison.”
It was an old tale.
A story from even before Grandfather was born.
“But at some point, the number of poisonous plants and creatures began to increase drastically. Naturally, the clans and sects that handled poison rose to power. Our Tang Clan was among them.”
Grandfather’s wrinkled hand brushed lightly against my sleeve.
Tap.
His Ilpa Bi-do (a throwing dagger) slid out naturally from my sleeve and rested on his palm.
When did he pull that out?
I hadn’t even felt it move.
Could that have been… Spatial Seizing Technique (Heogongseobmul)?
Regardless of my surprise, Grandfather continued.
“Among the younger generation, there are those who believe the Tang Clan’s roots lie solely in strong poisons and the art of using them.”
“But what you mean is that we must not forget our true origins began not with poison, but with the Iron Workshop, correct?”
The Tang Clan of Sichuan—masters of poison and hidden weapons.
Some now dismiss us as a clan that relies only on toxins.
But that’s not true.
Poison is merely a support.
The real weapon of the Tang Clan isn’t the poison—it’s the fearsome throwing dagger.
Once released, it cannot be taken back—thus, it is the weapon of utmost precision and resolve.
I knew that well.
Father often told me so.
“You’re perceptive.”
“So that’s why you always tell me not to neglect my hidden weapon training.”
“That’s right.”
Grandfather placed the dagger back in my hand.
It was the very one he used in his youth, so it felt large and heavy in my grasp.
Still, I like it.
This dagger carried special meaning for him.
Just from the way he handed it over, I could sense the affection and reverence he held for it.
Then, Grandfather spoke again.
“But you can’t exactly throw daggers inside a carriage.”
“No, sir.”
“Then, you should train something else.”
“…?”
The dagger slipped back into my sleeve with a smooth motion.
Grandfather took my hands, placed them together, and rested them over my lower abdomen.
Then he said—
“Don’t you think it’s a waste to just sit here doing nothing while riding?”
Not at all…?
You’re supposed to rest while traveling!
I hadn’t even been able to relax properly these days because of his relentless supervision.
Now he wanted me to train while on the move?
Wait a second…
Is that why he had me sit beside him?
I glanced at Grandfather.
He went on, unfazed.
“I’ll teach you how not to waste even a moment.”
Ah, so I was right.
But I didn’t complain further.
If he tells me to do it, I’ll do it.
He wasn’t doing this for himself, after all.
He was pushing me because he cared for me.
Training was for my own growth.
Thinking that way made my reluctance fade just a little.
Clatter.
The carriage continued down the road.
A person born with Poison Spirit Physique (Dokryeong Jiche) has a special body.
Poisonous creatures are naturally drawn to them.
It’s a rare and mysterious constitution—so rare that even the way it forms is unknown.
It’s only said that some people are simply born that way.
In other words, it’s a matter of luck.
I looked at Manhyulsa—my serpent.
Then at the grass beside it.
I hadn’t expected my luck to be this good.
Wait, that’s… Manggoncho.
Forget-Me-Not Grass (Manggoncho, 忘魂草).
The main ingredient used to make Manggon Liquor and Manggon Pill.
Both are extremely rare.
Anyone who drinks Manggon Liquor will confess everything—even secrets buried generations deep.
Anyone who eats a Manggon Pill loses all reason entirely.
Because of such effects, they’re usually used for interrogations.
Sometimes for darker purposes too—but since the ingredients are so rare, few places can even obtain them.
And yet…
Is it okay for something like this to be growing everywhere here?
I crouched and examined the plant closely.
No doubt about it.
This wasn’t just some weed—it was real Manggoncho.
There wasn’t much of it, though.
That’s strange. Manggoncho usually grows in clusters.
“Miss.”
As I was inspecting the plant, Choyo appeared behind me.
“I think we should return now. We’ve gone quite far.”
She was right.
I’d wandered away from the group.
Ugh, I didn’t mean to go this far.
While the carriage stopped briefly for maintenance—
“Ah!”
Manhyulsa had slipped out from my sleeve and slithered off somewhere.
Chasing after it led me deep into the woods… where I discovered this patch of Manggoncho.
Did it bring me here on purpose?
If so, how did it even know this was here?
I glanced at Manhyulsa, but the snake merely slid back into my sleeve, indifferent.
It was hard to tell whether it knew or not.
Anyway—
“Alright. Let’s take just a little and go back.”
I nodded and plucked the Manggoncho, tucking it carefully into my sleeve.
In emergencies, it can be used even unprocessed.
Squeezing out the juice produces a similar effect to the liquor or the pill.
After securing the herb, I stood up.
My dark green robe wouldn’t show grass stains easily.
Choyo brushed off the leaves clinging to me.
“Let’s head back.”
“Mm.”
“What did you pick up…?”
“This? It’s Manggoncho.”
In the distance, Father waved at me.
I waved back and said,
“It can be used as a truth serum.”
“That’s amazing…”
“Want some? I can share.”
It was rare, yes—but I didn’t mind.
After all, I’d gotten it for free thanks to Manhyulsa.
But Choyo shook her head.
“No, Miss. You should keep it. You may have more use for it.”
“Alright!”
I smiled and was about to turn away when—
“Hm?”
Something caught my eye.
“What’s that?”
“Miss?”
“Wait a moment, Choyo.”
There were clear signs that someone had already been here—patches of grass torn cleanly from the earth.
And not just ripped randomly—
They were dug up carefully, roots and all.
This was a deep part of the forest.
It didn’t seem like anyone came here often.
So who had come all the way out here to harvest these plants?
And then—
I noticed a dried-up stalk lying nearby.
It was another Manggoncho.
It looked as though it had been dropped accidentally and left to wither.
If that was the case…
Someone else has already harvested Manggoncho here.
Clearly, I wasn’t the first to find it.
And while that wasn’t inherently strange—
Why does this feel so unsettling?
I stood there for a while, staring at the spot, an odd discomfort gnawing at me.
I couldn’t explain it, but something about it felt off.
“Miss?”
Choyo called again.
I startled slightly, then nodded.
“Ah—yes, let’s go.”
For a moment, I considered putting back the Manggoncho I’d taken.
But—
Manggoncho can’t be cultivated.
No one knows the conditions it needs to grow.
So technically, it doesn’t belong to anyone.
Whoever finds it, owns it.
I didn’t put it back. Instead, I followed Choyo back toward the carriages.
The guards were already looking for us—apparently, the repairs were finished.
We arrived at Hapbi exactly fifteen days after departing Sichuan.
“Faster than I expected…”
It was my first time leaving the Tang estate, and I’d been nervous.
But we hadn’t run into any bandits—or any ruffians, for that matter!
…Wait. Isn’t that obvious?
My escort and protector was Dokjon—one of the Ten Great Masters of the martial world.
Really, who would dare block his path unless they had a death wish?
Since entering Anhui, I’d been glued to the window, watching everything outside.
The world beyond the Tang Clan.
Beyond Sichuan.
It was all new to me.
The air felt cool and crisp.
Peek.
Manhyulsa poked its head out from my sleeve, equally curious about Anhui.
