About an hour after I got chased out of the reception room, I paced in circles around the pond, waiting for the guest to co out.
Why did the Martial Alliance Lord co to see Tang Jung? Who was the owner of that wooden token that made Tang Jung so furious?
Neither Wi Jigok nor Jade Ring had ever been ntioned in the novel.
In the ti period when Namgung Hwi was active, the Martial Alliance Lord wasn’t Wi Jigok—it was Shaolin’s Abbot.
And Jade Ring was...
“Go back to the annex. This won’t be a conversation that ends quickly.”
“Gah!”
Scared . I nearly died.
I jumped and turned my head—and there was Tang Geunmyeong, standing there with a blank face. I rubbed at my pounding chest and greeted him.
“Hello, Seventh Elder.”
But Tang Geunmyeong didn’t react well. He frowned and snapped.
“Are you mocking ?”
“Huh? W-what? What did I say?”
Why is he suddenly mad?
When I stamred, Tang Geunmyeong stared at for a mont, then tossed out, flatly—
“I’m not an elder.”
“What? But everyone calls you Seventh Elder...”
I trailed off, watching his face. Realizing I wasn’t being malicious, Tang Geunmyeong loosened his expression.
“The sir just gave a hat that sounds nice. No one actually considers an elder. I’m just a gatekeeper’s son who got lucky and was granted the Tang na.”
“...Oh.”
So he wasn’t Tang blood.
I had no idea.
My lips parted, and I forced an awkward joke.
“Hey, if we’re asuring like that, I’m just the daughter of a courtesan who got lucky and survived.”
“...I guess you are.”
He let out a small laugh, and his voice softened.
He always looked like he was scowling, so I hadn’t noticed—when he smiled, he was surprisingly likable. I smiled back and asked—
“Then what should I call you?”
“Just call mister.”
“Is that really okay?”
“It’s better than ‘Elder.’ Now go back to the annex. If the sir asks for you, I’ll tell you.”
With the address settled, he snapped right back into a stiff face, like he’d never smiled at all.
“Yes. Mis— ...He left.”
Is it fashionable around here to walk away before people finish talking?
Left alone, I scratched my head and headed back.
The mont I returned to the annex, I found Songji and Gyeonga sitting on the wooden bench, happily sharing osmanthus rice cake.
“Oh my, young lady. Why are you back so early? I thought you wouldn’t return until the sun went down.”
Songji chewed her rice cake like nothing was going on, and—
“Y-young lady...! R-rice cake... p-please eat....”
Gyeonga sprang up and shoved a tray of rice cake at .
Why does it feel like I’m the intruder here?
“I’m fine. Deokju, want so rice cake?”
“I’m fine.”
“I-it’s... really good....”
When no one took any, Gyeonga fidgeted her fingers, then popped the rice cake into her own mouth.
Swallowing a laugh, I sat on the bench.
“Fine. It’s good, so eat a lot, Gyeonga. Songji—do you know anything about the Martial Alliance?”
“Huh? The Martial Alliance? Young lady, you don’t actually think I’d know sothing like that, right?”
Songji’s eyes went round like she’d heard sothing absurd.
She could know. She’s the one who usually rattled off things I never even asked about.
“Even sothing small is fine. Like—people from the Martial Alliance visit sotis, or there are Tang people affiliated with them. Have you ever heard anything?”
Songji shook her head like it was all news to her. Instead, Gyeonga swallowed her rice cake and said—
“The... Sichuan... branch...!”
“Huh? The Sichuan branch?”
“The Martial Alliance... S-Sichuan branch... c-cos... once... e-every three months.... The kitchen... p-preps... for guests....”
Gyeonga paused for a breath, then continued—
“They tell us... d-don’t make mistakes... h-how important... the guest is....”
“Really? I had no idea. Hey—were there any handso young masters?”
At Songji’s question, Gyeonga shook her head quickly.
“Th-that... not... yet....”
Songji smacked her lips like she was disappointed.
“If a handso young master cos, call too. Let feast my eyes.”
“Y-yes....”
At the shaless comnt, Gyeonga’s face turned strange—like she regretted speaking. I pretended I hadn’t heard Songji and asked—
“Do you know why they co every three months?”
“I-I’m not sure... but... they said... an Alliance investigation team....”
That was when Deokju—who’d been silently listening—cut in.
“Think of it as routine information sharing. In Sichuan, it’s impossible to [N O V E L I G H T] move without the Tang Sect’s cooperation.”
“Information sharing?”
“More precisely, it’s closer to requesting cooperation. Things like: ‘On such-and-such a day, Martial Alliance forces will move, so be aware,’ or ‘A martial criminal fled into Sichuan—can you help with the search?’”
When I stared at her like how do you know that, Deokju cleared her throat, slightly embarrassed.
“I’ve interacted with martial artists from the Sichuan branch.”
“Got it.”
That definitely sounded like “I’ve fought them” in disguise, but... sure.
Now that I understood, the current situation felt even stranger.
If there was already a regular investigation team that visited, the Martial Alliance Lord showing up personally ant this wasn’t anything ordinary.
Nothing dangerous is happening to Grandfather... right?
Deokju watched my expression shifting by the second, and spoke carefully.
“Young lady. Sotis, not knowing is dicine. Regarding today’s guest, it would be best if you kept silent.”
“I haven’t said anything.”
“I know. But you seem like you want to know more about the guest.”
Worry sat on Deokju’s face. She looked genuinely afraid I’d kick open a beehive.
“I get what you an. Don’t worry.”
I nodded, then smacked my lips and flopped back on the bench. Tang Jung’s face—snapping and raging—kept floating up against a white sky of clouds.
I hope it was nothing.
Songji, reading the room, brightened her voice like she was trying to change the mood.
“Young lady. Then... is training over for today?”
“Probably?”
“Then should we grill tofu? Gyeonga brought so to eat after the rice cake.”
“Heehee.”
Gyeonga lifted the corners of her mouth and shyly held out a bowl with tofu in it.
“Fine. Let’s eat.”
I snorted a laugh and pushed myself upright.
*****
I heard the news that Tang Jung left with the Martial Alliance Lord at dawn the next day.
Tang Geunmyeong ca to my annex and delivered Tang Jung’s ssage in a flat voice.
“Don’t try to slack. Train properly. Your grandfather will co back and check. ...That’s what he said.”
“Yes. Did he go far?”
“It’ll take seven days and nights.”
“That long? It’s not sothing dangerous, right?”
“That’s not sothing you need to worry about.”
A granddaughter can worry about her grandfather. So stiff.
When I pouted, Tang Geunmyeong added awkwardly—
“He also said: ‘Listen well to Geunmyeong, and I’ll bring you a gift.’ ...That too.”
“You’re not going with him, mister?”
“If your martial prowess were higher, I might’ve. He was worried you’d get beaten up sowhere.”
“.......”
What does Grandfather even think I am?
I forced a smile and waved my hand.
“Deokju’s with .”
“That girl isn’t top-tier either. Handle morning training yourself. I’ll co check in the afternoon.”
Tang Geunmyeong made a serious face, said only what he needed to say, and vanished. I grumbled.
“That mister is cold too.”
“All Tang elders are like that. Whatever.”
Songji agreed, then changed the subject.
“More importantly—you know we’re eating at the Clan Head’s Hall today, right?”
“The Clan Head’s Hall? That’s today?”
“Yes. It’s the ninth day of every month.”
A sigh ca out on its own at the schedule I’d completely forgotten.
I’d heard the Clan Head’s children gathered to eat once a month.
Apparently none of them ever left their own quarters, so Clan Head Muheok ordered it—sothing like that.
It was supposed to be for strengthening sibling bonds.
And since I’d been registered into the direct line, I was included too.
The problem was, I had no clothes.
I didn’t have a single thing besides martial uniforms.
Grandfather. You could’ve had everyday clothes made for too.
I couldn’t tell whether I should admire Tang Jung’s thoroughness for having ten sets of martial uniforms made, or admire his indifference for not caring about anything else.
But I couldn’t show up in shabby clothes either. I was attending as the Clan Head’s daughter, so I needed at least a minimum level of formality.
...Or do I?
It’s not like anyone is going to treat with formality.
That bastard father of mine probably wouldn’t care whether I wore a martial uniform or pajamas.
“Can’t I just go in a martial uniform?”
Songji shook her head firmly.
“No. It’s your first ti eting the other siblings. People already talk because of your birth—if you go looking grubby, they’ll look down on you.”
Songji. I’m your young lady. Are you seriously calling a bastard to my face?
But she wasn’t wrong, so I let it go—because watching Songji dig through my empty wardrobe with a worried face made feel a little guilty.
That was when Deokju lowered her body, alert, eyes on the outside.
“What is it?”
“A young lady has co.”
What young lady?
I listened harder—and I heard Gyeonga’s voice too.
“Y-y-young lady...! Y-you can’t just... barge in...!”
“It’s fine. I’m not going to eat her.”
“R-right now...! She’s r-resting...! L-later... please c-co back....”
“I said it’s fine.”
“B-but...!”
Ignoring Gyeonga’s attempts to stop her, soone pushed into the annex without hesitation.
Who’s causing a scene?
My brows knit on their own.
A mont later, the annex door flew open.
“Hi.”
It was a cheerful greeting for soone who’d just stord in.
Songji imdiately bowed.
“Lady Juhee, you’ve co.”
My eyes widened.
The unexpected visitor was the girl who’d been glued to Tang Un’s side at the banquet—my half-sister.
Tang Juhee.
Why is she here?
A cold anxiety dropped into my gut.
Tang Juhee’s nickna was...
“You’re my new little sister?”
...the Tang Clan’s Mad Dog.
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