Chapter 144

The Tang Family Physician’s Retainers

Tang Mujin’s head told him to run straight into Dan Seol-yeong’s arms, but his instincts froze him in place. It was as if roots had grown from his feet, anchoring him to the spot.

Like when standing before an overwhelming master, an inexplicable fear welled up inside him.

What is this?

While he hesitated, Dan Seol-yeong hurried over and threw her arms around him.

It was a bold act, heedless of all the eyes watching.

Naturally, she expected Tang Mujin to embrace her in return. But his reaction was strangely off.

“Ugh.”

He let out a small groan and pulled back slightly. Dan Seol-yeong’s face twisted in shock.

“W-what?”

“It’s nothing. Just… I think I broke a rib in the fighting.”

He tugged at the front of his robe to show her. A bluish bruise peeked through.

“Ah…!”

She worried for him but at the same time felt relieved, her expression brightening visibly.

“Do you know how much I worried? When I saw that bastard Sam Anbul snatching you away—”

Before she could finish, silence fell around them.

Only then did she notice Sam Anbul standing right beside Tang Mujin.

“…!”

Sam Anbul was not the sort of man one could overlook, but because all her attention was fixed on Tang Mujin, she hadn’t taken in her surroundings. A grave mistake.

Sam Anbul waved a hand lightly.

“So it was you, young lady. No need to mind me. You didn’t say anything untrue.”

Dan Seol-yeong tried to piece things together, but she couldn’t.

Why was Sam Anbul—renowned as one of the Demonic Cult’s most vicious transcendent masters—at Tang Mujin’s side? And not with tension between them, but with what looked almost like camaraderie.

After a moment’s pause, she forced herself back to the point.

“A-anyway… I was worried.”

“Sorry. I didn’t expect things to turn out like this either.”

“Well, at least you’re alive. Though… not exactly unhurt.”

She let her words trail off, then asked bluntly:

“…So, who’s that person behind you?”

The air grew heavy with stillness.

Behind Tang Mujin stood Mok Wana. Having been torn out of the cave she was familiar with, the only place she felt remotely safe was in the shadow of his back.

The moment Dan Seol-yeong’s question fell, Mok Wana shrank even further, hiding herself more tightly behind him.

But Tang Mujin smiled brightly as he introduced her.

“This is Mok Wana. Someone I got to know in the cult.”

“Got to know…? No. Explain properly.”

It felt as though she might roar at any moment. Hong Geolgae and Namgung Myeong tensed.

The others, however, could not hide their interest. Even Sam Anbul’s eyes gleamed with curiosity.

And if anyone was most engrossed, it was certainly Hwayeon Shinni.

As a Buddhist, she had lived a life untouched by romance and intended to keep it that way.

But when it came to other people’s stories, that was another matter.

She had read Records of True Encounters—a romance novel—at least a hundred times, and made a hobby of listening to tales of love from the courtesans of Zhu-lu.

Though she had founded the Hao Clan to aid the suffering, her most delightful moments came from hearing those sweet and prickly stories through her network of informants.

She had no direct experience, but her indirect experience was richer than anyone else’s, and she had often given advice to young couples.

Now, the scene before her exceeded even her expectations.

The story of Tang Mujin and Dan Seol-yeong was already interesting. But a story of three? That was far more delicious. Her small palms grew damp with sweat.

Tang Mujin, meanwhile, couldn’t fathom why the atmosphere had turned so strange.

“I had to research poison in the cult, and Mok Wana was the only one who could help. Naturally, we grew close.”

“So you spent a lot of time together?”

“We were holed up in a cave with no visitors.”

Silence. Even breathing seemed to stop. Everyone’s imagination ran wild—what had happened inside that cave?

Dan Seol-yeong’s face was utterly devoid of a smile. Her fist trembled faintly.

“So that’s why you brought her back with you?”

Tang Mujin was hopeless in matters like these. He didn’t know how to see things from another’s perspective.

But he had faced death often enough to recognize danger.

He instinctively felt that if he just nodded here, something disastrous might follow. So he explained in detail.

“If I had left Mok Wana in the cult, she would’ve died without question. I had no choice but to bring her.”

“So… what you mean is you like her?”

“Of course. She showed incredible loyalty.”

“…Loyalty?”

Loyalty? Was that really the excuse he was offering?

Yet his voice didn’t waver. He sounded utterly sincere.

Dan Seol-yeong stared at him intently, and he didn’t look away. Her certainty faltered.

Is he serious? He brought her just for loyalty’s sake?

From what she knew, Tang Mujin wasn’t a man of messy affairs, nor one to lie about such things.

Even now, he seemed utterly oblivious to what he might have caused.

“What kind of loyalty?”

“She drank poison, swearing not to betray my whereabouts. If I hadn’t treated her, she would have died.”

His voice carried genuine emotion.

Dan Seol-yeong relaxed. So he wasn’t smitten with Mok Wana after all.

But the real question was Mok Wana herself. Had she followed Tang Mujin only for loyalty’s sake?

Dan Seol-yeong tilted her head and looked past him at the girl hiding behind his back.

Noticing, Tang Mujin asked,

“What? Something wrong?”

“Step aside for a moment.”

He obediently stepped aside.

With his shadow gone, Mok Wana shrank like a mouse before a cat, every muscle taut. The tension was so thick that someone audibly swallowed. Gulp.

Dan Seol-yeong’s eyes sharpened, locking onto Mok Wana. Mok Wana’s gaze dropped to her feet.

Sensing the silence wasn’t normal, Tang Mujin cut in:

“Mok Wana is just shy. She never mingled with others, even in the cult.”

The exchange stalled. After some moments, Dan Seol-yeong spoke.

“Miss Mok?”

“Y-yes?”

“You have nothing to say for yourself?”

“N-no…”

Dan Seol-yeong folded her arms. The response was clumsy, unconvincing.

It seems like she does like Mujin, though…

But it wasn’t something she could press in front of everyone, so she held back.

Still, one thing was clear. From Mok Wana’s timid behavior, Dan Seol-yeong could tell she had the upper hand. Overwhelmingly so—enough that Mok Wana couldn’t resist even a little.

It wasn’t simply a matter of an old stone against a new one. By nature itself, Mok Wana seemed timid to the core.

Dan Seol-yeong coolly organized her thoughts.

Even if I don’t like it, I can’t send her back to the cult. Better to establish firm discipline and draw the line so she never dares climb over it.

A tame cat will jump on the stove, but a timid cat never will.

She gave Mok Wana a sidelong glance.

Dan Seol-yeong considered her own looks more than passable—but Mok Wana, too, was pretty. That much was undeniable.

However, what nagged at her was Mok Wana’s pale skin.

Dan Seol-yeong lowered her gaze slightly, comparing her own forearm with Mok Wana’s.

Unlike Dan Seol-yeong, whose skin had darkened under the sun since childhood from working outdoors, Mok Wana’s bare face and arms looked so fair they seemed dusted with rice powder.

But as always, Dan Seol-yeong was confident.

Ever since leaving Mount Song, I haven’t seen as much sun either. I’ve gotten lighter. With proper care, there’s no reason I should lose out.

She then spoke to Mok Wana.

“I’m Dan Seol-yeong. Tang Mujin’s beloved.”

Mok Wana thought for a moment.

If she was Tang Mujin’s beloved, then that meant Dan Seol-yeong was effectively the daughter-in-law of the Tang Family, the clan that ruled over Sichuan.

Mok Wana might have been clumsy in other respects, but her survival instincts were sharp.

Whether she liked it or not, her life now depended on the Sichuan Tang Family. So, like a dog with its tail tucked, she watched Dan Seol-yeong’s expression carefully before speaking.

“Then… should I call you Madam Tang?”

The unexpected remark made Dan Seol-yeong falter.

Madam Tang? For a moment, she felt less like the daughter-in-law of a modest physician’s family and more like someone of lofty standing.

Moreover, the fact that Mok Wana addressed her with such deference meant she had no intention of challenging her position.

Dan Seol-yeong’s lips curved upward ever so slightly. Perhaps in the distant future Mok Wana might pose a problem, but for now, she was no threat.

“No, don’t call me Madam Tang. Just call me Dan Seol-yeong.”

“Ah… y-yes.”

Standing beside her, Dan Seol-yeong leaned in and whispered with satisfaction.

“Now that we’ve met, let’s get along. Just don’t grow greedy, understood?”

Mok Wana didn’t really understand what “greedy” meant in this context, but sensing the mood, she nodded.

***

A Few Days Later

At the Chengdu branch of the Qingcheng Sect, Chief Instructor Jin Song awoke to the sound of magpies chirping.

Does this mean a welcome guest is coming?

Jin Song was a man of wide connections and good relations. There were many whose company he found pleasant.

But if he had to choose the one person he most wanted to meet, it was undoubtedly Tang Mujin.

It had already been over a year since Tang Mujin promised to forge him a sword.

But Tang Mujin had been constantly on the move, so Jin Song had yet to receive it.

That morning, after finishing his routine training, he strolled into town and loitered near the Tang Family Clinic. For some reason, he felt today he might run into Tang Mujin.

The townsfolk, seeing the famed first-class master of the Chengdu branch, were reminded of the clinic’s prestige. For a martial artist of his caliber to linger here—it truly was no ordinary clinic.

Jin Song, forgetting his original purpose, basked in the people’s admiration.

Even the local street thugs who normally strutted about shrank before him, bowing their heads or even turning down another road to avoid crossing his path.

Whether he could one day, like his master, break past the barrier to the pinnacle of martial arts was uncertain.

But Jin Song was in no rush. In his late twenties, already a first-class master—he was ahead of the curve, not behind.

Just then, as he lingered near the clinic, a stranger appeared at the far end of the alley.

A martial artist. From out of town?

The man wore a sword at his waist, and from his sharp aura and steady stride, Jin Song could tell he wasn’t a mere pretender. Judging by appearances, he was about Jin Song’s equal.

What business does he have here? Something with the Qingcheng Sect?

But soon Jin Song’s attention shifted. Behind the man came a crowd—over twenty martial artists flooding into the street.

Not a single one looked like a fraud. Several even seemed as though they might have surpassed the first-class boundary into the realm of masters.

Jin Song’s chest tightened. This was no ordinary matter.

He instinctively tried to retreat when a particularly striking figure emerged.

Taller than the rest by a head, his body covered in scars, and worst of all, skin the color of ash that made him seem barely human—he was a monk.

Jin Song’s breath caught. The man was so infamous that even idle chatterers in the marketplace would know his name.

Sam Anbul!

Jin Song’s knees shook. What was such a notorious transcendent master of the Demonic Cult doing here?

The first thought was an invasion by the cult.

But why had they come to the Qingcheng Sect—and not even its main temple, but the Chengdu branch? He had no idea.

He didn’t even consider resisting. Even if his own master intervened, this was far beyond solvable at that level.

To withstand this force, the master would have to appeal for aid from the Qingcheng main sect.

Yet Jin Song’s legs trembled so badly he couldn’t even run. Frozen stiff, he stood rooted by the Tang Family Clinic’s gate.

The Demonic Cult warriors stopped right before him.

It felt like Sam Anbul’s fist might crush him at any second. Jin Song’s mind went blank with the certainty of death.

But then a familiar face appeared from amidst them—Tang Mujin, along with his companions. Their expressions were calm, even relaxed.

Tang Mujin addressed the group.

“There aren’t enough spare rooms… but for now, there’s no helping it. We’ll clear out the side rooms and storerooms. Please bear with the inconvenience for a few days. I’ll find you better lodgings nearby.”

The cultists nodded and filed into the Tang Family Clinic. The street suddenly felt strangely empty.

Only then did Tang Mujin notice Jin Song and greet him.

“It’s been a while.”

“Uh… those people—why are they here?”

“They’re retainers.”

“R-retainers…?”

Jin Song’s thoughts spun. Retainers?

This wasn’t some great martial clan, yet over twenty warriors were being taken in as “retainers” of a physician’s household?

And not just any warriors—their strength was far beyond what the word “retainer” could excuse.

Tang Mujin continued lightly, “Ah yes, your sword. I’ll be forging it soon. I know I’ve delayed far too long.”

“R-right. Don’t… don’t trouble yourself too much.”

Feigning calm, Jin Song forced words he didn’t mean, then began backing away.

And the moment Tang Mujin disappeared into the clinic, he turned and sprinted at full speed toward Master Hwang Lingzi.

He had no idea what was going on, but one thing was certain—his master needed to know immediately.