The Eldest Daughter of the Sichuan Tang Clan Protects Her Family

Chapter 5: A Solitary Kindness

 
One year ago, a week after the Demonic Cult’s invasion of Sichuan…
In the dead of night, a solitary light flickered in the most secluded corner of the Namgung estate. While everyone else slept, a single shadow danced restlessly in the lamplight.

Tang Sohwa's judgment had been clouded ever since she saw her father three days prior. Her father, a man who valued cleanliness and appearance above all else, had arrived with his clothes stained with blood and grime, his usually meticulously styled hair tied back haphazardly. He hadn't even protested Namgung Hyeon’s refusal of aid, simply turning back without a word.
Someone needed to be there.
She knew she wouldn't make much of a difference, but she also knew she would regret it for the rest of her life if she stayed.

As she stepped out of her room, a figure emerged from the shadows, blocking her path. She looked up, and even the faint moonlight couldn't diminish the beauty of the face before her. It was Yeon-a, leader of Namgung Hyeon's personal guard, the Shadow Guard, and his lover. Seeing her here, at her own humble quarters, left a bitter taste in Sohwa’s mouth.
Her eyes cold, Sohwa commanded, “Step aside.”
Yeon-a’s gaze fell to the sleeve of Sohwa’s robe.

“Have you taken your throwing knives?” Receiving no answer, she pressed further. “How many? Ten? Twenty? A hundred?” Yeon-a sighed wearily. “They are the ones who broke through Kunlun, Qingcheng, Mount Emei, and even the Tang Clan. Do you truly believe a hundred cuts will stop them? What will you do after you’ve thrown your ten, your hundred knives? How will you face them then?”
She was telling her she would only find death there.
Sohwa's lips parted slowly. “You seem to be mistaken.” Her voice, devoid of anger or sarcasm, was calm, cutting through the darkness. “I am going there to die.”

Yeon-a frowned.
“I would rather die beside my family than live alone. Of course, someone like you wouldn't understand. And I have no obligation to make you understand. Now, move.”
“…Your home is here.”

Tang Sohwa scoffed. “Are you out of your mind? My surname is Tang, not Namgung.”
“…”
“I said, move.”

Yeon-a held out a letter. “I wrote this myself. Please deliver it. To Mount Hua, Wudang, and Mount Jongnam. I have connections there; they won't refuse my request.”
Sohwa's gaze fell upon the letter.
Though Yeon-a had been raised in the Namgung Clan, her access to their martial arts teachings was limited. The Namgung, though not as restrictive as the Tang, were still a closed society. The higher-level techniques, unfortunately, were reserved for those of direct lineage.
Not being a blood relative, Yeon-a had honed her swordsmanship independently. Namgung Hyeon’s orders, sending her on missions throughout the central plains, had proven to be a blessing in disguise. She had faced countless life-or-death situations, encountering a wide array of martial artists. Through these trials, she had perfected her skills, eventually surpassing even Wungil of the Wudang Sect, one of the Heavenly Ten Swords, and earning a place among the top ten swordsmen in the world.

Yet, Yeon-a had no interest in such accolades. Her only concern was Namgung Hyeon.
That was why Tang Sohwa couldn't believe this letter. It went against everything Namgung Hyeon stood for.
“…Did he permit this?” Though the subject was unstated, Yeon-a seemed to understand the question. She shook her head.

“This is my own volition.”
“You disregard my wishes, yet expect me to honor yours?”
Yeon-a spoke calmly. “It’s an apology.”

“An apology?” Sohwa frowned. If every Patriarch in the central plains had to apologize for keeping a concubine, they’d all be on their knees. She realized Yeon-a wasn’t simply apologizing for their shared connection to Namgung Hyeon.
Strictly speaking, Yeon-a's relationship with Namgung Hyeon predated their marriage. If an apology was due, it should come from Namgung Hyeon, the man who couldn't relinquish either love or power, not from this warrior standing before her.
Though she couldn’t deny the awkwardness of their situation, Sohwa wasn’t petty enough to hold Yeon-a accountable for her discomfort. Besides, if anyone deserved resentment, it was Yeon-a herself. Though Sohwa was innocent, Yeon-a had lost her child due to poisoning, and the entire Namgung Clan believed Sohwa was responsible.

It was a frustrating situation, but the circumstances and the evidence were damning. It couldn't have been such a perfect setup without deliberate manipulation.
Therefore, Yeon-a’s apology made no sense.
Sensing Sohwa’s confusion, Yeon-a hesitated, then spoke. “I never had a child.”

Sohwa’s brow furrowed.
“I was injured in the abdomen when I was young. The physician said I would never be able to conceive.”
“The body can change over time. For someone of your caliber, it wouldn’t be surprising if your body underwent a complete transformation.” With her extraordinary martial arts, perhaps the old injury was no longer an impediment. But Yeon-a chuckled softly.

“I understand how you perceive me, but after your marriage to the Patriarch, I… I never…” she trailed off, “I never had relations with him.”
Sohwa couldn't believe it. Their marriage had taken place over a decade ago. She had accepted the existence of Yeon-a as Namgung Hyeon's lover because she believed he truly loved her and that Yeon-a reciprocated his affections. Learning about their relationship four years after arriving at the Namgung estate had been a shock, but she hadn't wanted to intrude on their affections, so she had accepted the situation and distanced herself.
Come to think of it, she had never loved Namgung Hyeon. When he finally stopped visiting her, even out of obligation, after revealing his true colors, she had felt a sense of liberation.

Yeon-a’s quiet voice echoed in her mind. “It wasn't for your sake, but for his. I wanted him to have a stable family this time.” Her answer was as gentle as her demeanor.
“I’ve always felt guilty towards you. Believe it or not, it wasn’t easy for me to ignore your suffering.”
Tang Sohwa didn’t want to accept her apology. Despite her attempts to maintain composure, her face contorted in a grimace. “And now you think a few words will ease your conscience? Is that your idea of an apology?”

Yeon-a lowered her head. “Of course not. I never took your pain lightly.”
Her long hair fell forward, like a dark curtain, obscuring her expression. Only her voice, eerily calm, reached Sohwa’s ears. “I will repay you with my life.”
Tang Sohwa was speechless.

Yeon-a reiterated her vow, her voice slicing through the silence. “I will protect the Tang Clan.”
“I will protect the Tang Clan.” A light, almost airy laugh escaped Yeon-a’s lips. Sohwa couldn't bring herself to be angry. She knew her own limitations. She wasn’t a skilled warrior. Going to Sichuan now was a suicidal act.
Yeon-a looked up, a faint smile on her face. Her gaze briefly fell on the letter in Sohwa’s hand. “They will likely come to aid you. But, one can never be too sure… Daebunim, you must remain here.”

“Why?”
“Someone needs to ensure the path remains clear, don't you think?”
Tang Sohwa’s lips tightened. She was warning her about Namgung Hyeon.

“But you love him, don't you?”
“With all due respect, Daebunim, yes. I love him.”
“Then why are you doing this?”

“My feelings have caused you great pain. It isn't right that you should lose everything because I was blinded by love.” Yeon-a bowed her head again. “If I may offer an excuse, I couldn’t tell you the truth back then. I feared he would harm someone else.”
Sohwa understood the unspoken implication. If Yeon-a had revealed her inability to conceive, Namgung Hyeon would have found another way to frame Sohwa, perhaps even resorting to murder and claiming poisoning.
Namgung Hyeon was capable of anything. He had used the woman he supposedly loved as a pawn in his schemes. He would have gladly confined her to a small, isolated quarter, cutting her off from the outside world, if it served his purpose.

Yeon-a hesitated, then offered a small note. “When I die, please give this to him.”
“What is it?”
Instead of explaining, she smiled faintly and offered a cryptic answer. “It is where I will be buried.”

Sohwa had refused, telling her to deliver it herself. But Yeon-a had simply disappeared without a word.
And she never returned.
The three Taoist sects, alerted by Yeon-a's letter, had arrived promptly, halting the Demonic Cult’s advance eastward. Though they couldn't prevent the Tang Clan’s annihilation or Yeon-a’s death, they helped recover their bodies.

Sohwa had tried to fulfill Yeon-a's final request but couldn't decipher the note’s meaning. She had given it to Namgung Hyeon, and for the first time, she had seen him truly break down.
It had been a repulsive sight. To see him feign such devastation before her, a woman who had lost everything, while he, the orchestrator of her suffering, pretended to be the victim. He had used Yeon-a as a shield, sending her into countless dangerous situations, yet now he wept for her loss? Was this truly love?
Namgung Hyeon had never once expressed any remorse for his actions, never acknowledged his role in her suffering. He hadn't felt a shred of guilt.

It was then that Sohwa had felt a flicker of pity for Yeon-a. Despite being one of the most skilled swordsmen in the world, her life had been tragically meaningless.
When fortune smiled upon Tang Sohwa and granted her a second chance, she vowed revenge against Namgung Hyeon, and Yeon-a's memory resurfaced.
Kindness repaid twice over, grudges tenfold. That was the Tang Clan’s code. Though she rarely dwelled on acts of kindness, Yeon-a’s sacrifice weighed heavily on her.

The young girl, now bearing a different name, wouldn't know her, but Sohwa wanted to ensure she lived a different life this time. A life free from the constant threat of death, where she could learn from her master in peace, where she could live for herself, not sacrifice herself for another.
This was the only kindness Tang Sohwa needed to repay in this life, the first debt she needed to settle.