The Eldest Daughter of the Sichuan Tang Clan Protects Her Family

Chapter 2: The Head of the Sichuan Tang Clan

 
As dawn broke, faint outlines emerged from the swirling mist. A field of pristine white stone, resembling a snowy plain, stretched out, dotted with a dense forest of wooden pillars. The pillars varied in thickness and height, some resembling stooped old men, others towering giants, and still others small, crouching beasts.

Hwik.
A throwing knife, launched from a martial artist's fingertips, embedded itself in one of the pillars. A flurry of knives followed, a metallic rain descending upon the stone field, yet each strike followed a precise, predetermined order. No pillar bore more than a single embedded knife.
The hour of the hare, just as the sun began to ascend. Tang Jiha, the Tang Clan Head, practiced his martial arts within the dissipating mist.

Tang Sohwa watched him, the image of her mountain-like father kneeling before his son-in-law, a man young enough to be his son, superimposed over the present scene. She blinked slowly, as if trying to erase the painful memory.
Her father was both a loving and a stern figure, a man of unwavering strength. However, in the hierarchy of the martial world, he wasn't the strongest. He knew this, and it fueled his relentless pursuit of self-improvement. Tang Sohwa, her face rejuvenated, devoid of the weariness of her past life, observed the Clan Head, the Venom King, Tang Jiha.
Hwaek.

The final throwing knife arced towards a small wooden post at the far end of the training grounds. Though obscured by the numerous pillars in front of it, the knife effortlessly curved through the air, finding its mark.
Tang Jiha walked through the lingering mist, retrieving each knife and meticulously examining it for any new imperfections. Satisfied, he placed them back in their wooden case.
Tak. He closed the lid and spoke softly. “Couldn’t sleep?” His gaze, sharp and intense, settled on Sohwa.

Sohwa descended from the pavilion, a faint smile playing on her lips. “It’s not a long story, so I waited to tell you on your way back to your quarters… you’re very busy, after all.” She had started with a formal tone but quickly softened her speech as her father frowned.
Come to think of it, she hadn't been particularly formal with him at this age. He had reason to be surprised. She struggled to recall the nuances of her younger self’s speech, fumbling slightly.
“You barely have time to sleep, and I didn’t want to take up too much of your time.”

“You, taking up my time? What nonsense. Are you planning to run away after telling me this story? What could it possibly be? Haha.” He laughed, then suddenly turned serious. “No pythons. I don’t care what Hak says, don’t even think about getting another one.”
“…That’s not what I wanted to talk about.”
“Squirrels… well, those are alright.” Tang Jiha relented slightly, nodding to himself and sighing.

Sohwa quickly seized the opportunity. “I don’t care what Hak keeps. That’s not why I’m here. …Really.”
“Oh? I was worried because you’ve been practically living in Hak’s quarters these days. Even though the Tang Clan is prosperous, I'm not generous enough to care for every stray animal. Brewing medicinal tea for a chicken… is that even remotely sensible?”
“I apologize.” Returning to the past had rekindled her affection for her younger brother, clouding her judgment. Hearing her actions described by another made her cringe with embarrassment. Perhaps she should distance herself from Tang Hak, as she had in her past life.

Misinterpreting her darkened expression, Tang Jiha cleared his throat and changed the subject. “I need to wash up. Wait for me in the Hongso Pavilion.” He was meticulous about cleanliness. A small smile tugged at her lips at his unchanging habits.
“Yes. I’ll go ahead.”
“I won’t be long.” He turned to leave.
Tang Sohwa watched his retreating figure, the faint smile fading from her lips. Her father, who couldn't bear a single stain on his clothes, had rushed to Anhui covered in dirt and blood, desperate to protect his family from the Demonic Cult. He probably knew that Namgung Hyeon wouldn't send help. Yet, he hadn't expressed any anger, simply returning to Sichuan, to his family fighting on the front lines. He hadn't even had time for anger. She couldn't imagine the weight on his heart as he returned empty-handed.

Sohwa swallowed the rising anger and turned towards the inner courtyard. The familiar rhythm of her footsteps against the stone path calmed her turbulent emotions. By the time she reached the outer courtyard, a semblance of composure had returned.
The Tang Clan estate was divided into inner and outer courtyards. The inner courtyard was the domain of the main family, housing their living quarters, private training grounds, and the clan's most secure vaults. The outer courtyard housed the buildings dedicated to external affairs, including the Hongso Pavilion, one of the reception halls.
Sohwa paused before the ornate red pavilion, its vibrant color unfamiliar. The last time she had seen it, it was scorched and half-destroyed. The Hongso Pavilion was used to receive honored guests and for discussions among the main family members.

Stepping inside, Sohwa trailed her fingers across the table draped in luxurious silk. The raised embroidery of lotus flowers, intricate and delicate, brushed against her skin. The pavilion was filled with priceless treasures, yet in twenty years, all of this would be reduced to ashes.
When the Demonic Cult attacked, she had tried to return to Sichuan. If no one had stopped her, she would have died there with her family.
Lost in thought, a voice echoed in her memory.

- I will protect the Tang Clan.
At the time, Sohwa had believed, perhaps naively, that he could.
- They will likely come to aid you. But, one can never be too sure… Daebunim, you must remain here.

Despite serving Namgung Hyeon, the warrior had cautiously advised her to be wary of him. His warning had proven true.
The Martial Alliance, whose communication Namgung Hyeon had overseen, never arrived. Only the three Taoist sects, alerted by the letter she had personally entrusted to the warrior, had come to Sichuan's aid.
A heavy sigh escaped her lips.

The door opened, and Tang Jiha entered, his face refreshed after washing.
“Why are you standing there? Sit.” He gestured for her to sit, then took his place at the head of the table.
A tea set was placed before them, and Tang Jiha remained silent until the fragrant tea had sufficiently steeped. This, too, was a familiar ritual, and a faint smile touched Sohwa’s lips. A quarter of an hour of silence. It was a lesson instilled by her parents – to always take time to think before speaking.

After taking a sip of tea, Tang Jiha asked, “So, what did you want to talk about?”
Sohwa set down her cup and looked up at him. “I wanted to ask your opinion of the Namgung Clan.”
“The Namgung?” Tang Jiha tilted his head slightly, clearly taken aback by the unexpected topic. “Why the Namgung, all of a sudden?”

Sohwa had spent the past few days agonizing over this. Should she reveal the future she had witnessed? But that would only be a temporary solution. She couldn't shake the feeling that Namgung Hyeon's actions weren't solely motivated by clan rivalry. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became that there was another reason, something more sinister at play.
Namgung Hyeon hadn't acted alone. He must have had accomplices. Eliminating him now might be a mistake. She knew what he was planning, she knew his true nature. She could anticipate his moves. But if she removed him from the equation before identifying his collaborators, she might not uncover their identities until after the Tang Clan’s destruction.
For now, it was best to keep Namgung Hyeon alive. At least until she knew who was supporting him and why they harbored such animosity towards the Tang Clan.

Having reached a decision, Sohwa offered a small smile. “Yuhwa and Yehwa seem quite interested in the Namgung heir. I was wondering if a marriage alliance between our clans might be possible.”
“A marriage alliance? Preposterous.” Tang Jiha scoffed, as if she had suggested something absurd. “Those prideful fools would never lower themselves to join the Tang Clan.”
“And if they did? Would you accept?”

“It depends on who it is.” He chuckled, but there was no hint of displeasure in his voice.
The current Namgung Patriarch, Namgung An, and Tang Jiha had been close friends. Their relationship had become somewhat strained since Namgung An assumed leadership, but they still exchanged peculiar gifts on their birthdays, sharing a private amusement that no one else understood.
Seeing the amusement twitching at the corners of her father’s lips, Sohwa dismissed her earlier suspicions. She had wondered if there was some hidden animosity between him and the Namgung Clan, a past transgression, perhaps, or a lingering grudge from a previous generation. However, her father seemed to still hold the Namgung Patriarch in high regard.

Namgung Hyeon wouldn't begin his machinations for another three years, after their encounter at the Clan Alliance meeting. No catastrophic event that could lead to the clan’s downfall occurred during those intervening years. At least, not to her knowledge.
Namgung Hyeon had begun pursuing her after that meeting, claiming to have fallen in love with her at first sight. It had all been a lie. She later learned, after arriving at the Namgung estate, that he had a lover all along. He had truly loved that woman.
No, perhaps not. He had spread the rumor of his lover’s miscarriage due to poisoning, placing the blame squarely on Sohwa. Could someone truly love another and use them in such a manipulative scheme? Namgung Hyeon was an enigma.

Sohwa sighed softly. A gruff voice, laced with a hint of possessiveness, interrupted her thoughts.
“Hmph. I wouldn’t give you to one of those Namgung brats anyway.”