Chapter 145

Tang Family Clinic

“Sam Anbul? Are you certain?”

“Yes, Master.”

Unlike Jin Song, whose mind was filled only with the thought of fleeing immediately, Hwang Lingzi’s demeanor remained relatively calm. If the man presumed to be Sam Anbul had entered the Tang Family Clinic without incident, then for now, the chance of something catastrophic happening was low.

Still… I must confirm it with my own eyes.

Rather than march straight into the clinic, Hwang Lingzi kept his distance, watching from afar. Simply crossing paths with Sam Anbul could be dangerous.

Before long, he saw the Tang Family Clinic more bustling than usual.

Several martial artists who clearly surpassed the level of first-class could be seen, and there was even a massive monk with ashen skin—the spitting image of Sam Anbul from the rumors.

…How in the world is Tang Mujin gathering these people?

When he first heard of strange phenomena occurring at the Tang Family Clinic, Hwang Lingzi had thought it unusual but nothing more. Yet ever since, people had flocked to it without end.

First came the young lady from the Dan family, who drove Jin Song into lovesickness. Then, not one but two prodigious talents at the later stage of first-class appeared.

But now it was something else entirely.

Even allowing for a generous interpretation, the strength gathered here was far beyond common sense.

So much so that it seemed less appropriate to compare the Tang Family Clinic to the Chengdu branch of the Qingcheng Sect, and more fitting to compare it directly to the Qingcheng Sect’s main temple.

This was no longer the clinic depending on the Qingcheng branch to scrape by. On the contrary, it looked as though the Qingcheng branch was clinging to the Tang Family Clinic. An utter reversal of host and guest.

At least Qingcheng still had a supreme grandmaster, Elder Yinghe, to steady matters. The Emei Sect, which had no supreme grandmaster, fared worse by comparison. Stacked against the Tang Family Clinic as it stood now, Emei seemed to fall short.

In Sichuan, the foremost martial group is the Qingcheng Sect. Second… the Tang Family Clinic. Third, the Emei Sect…

If he carried this story to Emei, the reaction would be something worth seeing.

Rising to his feet, Hwang Lingzi resolved that he must meet Tang Mujin soon.

***

For three whole days, Hwang Lingzi lingered near the Tang Family Clinic, waiting for a chance. At last, when Sam Anbul stepped outside, he seized the opportunity to slip quietly in.

As expected, the atmosphere inside was extraordinary—every martial artist he passed carried an imposing aura.

Spotting him, Tang Mujin bowed respectfully.

“Branch Leader. It’s an honor.”

“It has been a while.”

Hwang Lingzi sensed something odd in Tang Mujin. It hadn’t been long since he had risen to the first-class rank, and yet now he seemed to have taken another step forward.

Whether he had truly broken through the wall of transcendence, Hwang Lingzi couldn’t be sure. But the feeling was… unsettling.

Still, he knew better than to pry too directly. A little flattery first—that was the proper way to probe.

“To have broken through the wall of transcendence at such a young age… Remarkable. You are a genius of the ages.”

“I was only fortunate.”

Hwang Lingzi blinked. So it was true—he had crossed the wall.

By his count, Tang Mujin could only be twenty-two, perhaps twenty-three at most.

When Hwang Lingzi had been that age, though already gifted, he had only just stepped into the first-class realm. He himself hadn’t broken through to transcendence until his mid-forties—after training with the sword since before he was ten.

Tang Mujin, meanwhile, had not even touched a blade until three years ago.

Hwang Lingzi was impressed… and yet, beneath that admiration, there was a faint sting of deprivation.

“But tell me, what brings you here today?” asked Tang Mujin.

Feigning ignorance, Hwang Lingzi replied, “I heard from Jin Song that Sam Anbul is residing here. I came to see if it were true.”

“Yes. It is.”

“…How did Sam Anbul end up in Chengdu?”

Tang Mujin explained the situation—though, in accordance with Sam Anbul’s warning, he left out any mention of his accomplishments in poison arts. The tale was patchy, the details thin.

But Hwang Lingzi detected no gaps. Even without the missing truth, the story was shocking enough: that a great protector of the Demonic Cult had seized unimaginable martial power and usurped the cult leader’s position.

Hwang Lingzi’s voice quavered.

“Tang Hero… have you told anyone else of this?”

“No. You are the first, Branch Leader.”

Hwang Lingzi rose to his feet, his mind racing. He had to report this to the main sect immediately.

Yet still, he hesitated.

“It is not that I doubt you. But this is a matter of grave import—I need certainty. All you’ve said… it is truly fact?”

“Yes. I’ve no reason to deceive you, Branch Leader. And if it were false, Sam Anbul would have no reason to be here at all.”

The logic was sound.

And yet a thought nagged him: Is it really Sam Anbul? Could it be someone who only resembles him?

The world was wide. Surely someone could exist who looked like him.

Just then, he felt the presence of someone outside. Sam Anbul, returning from his brief errand, stepped back into the clinic—several local children trailing happily behind him. Strangely enough, he was quite popular with the village kids.

It was a pastoral, almost peaceful sight… and yet Hwang Lingzi dared not lift his gaze to the monk’s face. His eyes dropped, unbidden, to the man’s feet.

That reflex alone was proof enough. This was no imposter. This was the true Sam Anbul.

Not wanting to attract attention, Hwang Lingzi kept his seat quietly before rising with vague excuses.

“Hm. Thank you for your time. I must report this matter of the Demonic Cult to the main temple. You’ve no objections?”

“I do not. Though I would ask that you avoid spreading word of Elder Sam Anbul’s presence. As you know, he has many… complicated grudges.”

“Of course. I shall tell only the Sect Leader.”

With that, Hwang Lingzi departed the Tang Family Clinic and made his way toward the Qingcheng Sect’s main temple.

***

At that same time, Mok Wana was in utter confusion.

When she first came to the Tang Family Clinic three days ago, she had assumed it was an outer hall of the famed Sichuan Tang Clan. After all, right beside it was a large compound enclosed by high walls.

That must be the inner hall, she had thought.

She waited, expecting the people here to move into the inner hall.

But one day passed, then two, and no one made any move.

That alone was strange. But the true seed of suspicion was planted when she witnessed Tang Mujin with Tang Jeseon.

…That man is Tang Mujin’s father?

And if Tang Mujin was the young lord of the Tang Clan, then his father should be none other than the Clan Head himself.

Mok Wana’s knowledge of the world was limited, but even she could tell it was strange for the head of a clan to stay in an “outer hall.” The highest-ranking person should naturally reside in the grandest building.

To clear her doubts, Mok Wana looked around for someone approachable.
The demon sect martial artists were intimidating, and Dan Seol-yeong seemed frightening for some reason. In the end, she chose Hong Geol-gae.

“Hey, Hong Geol-gae.”

“Huh?”

Hong Geol-gae jumped in surprise.
In his whole life, the number of times a girl around his age had ever spoken to him first could be counted on less than one hand.

“When are the clan head and Tang Mujin going into the inner hall?”

“Inner hall? Was there such a thing?”

Mok Wana pointed to the walled compound adjoining the low fence of the Tang Family Clinic.

“That building over there. Isn’t that the inner hall?”

“That’s the Cheongseong Sect’s Chengdu branch hall. The Tang Family Clinic is just a clinic attached to it.”

“And the Sichuan Tang Clan?”

“...What’s that?”

At this point, there was no way he didn’t know. She had been duped.

“Never mind. Forget I asked.”

Mok Wana hid by the clinic’s front gate, and the moment Tang Mujin appeared, she jumped out to confront him.

“Tang Mujin. Didn’t you once say you were the young lord of the Sichuan Tang Clan?”

Tang Mujin faltered. He hadn’t expected this moment to come—those words had been a casual lie tossed out in the moment, and he’d forgotten all about it.

But now he had nothing to say.

“...That was just something I said offhand.”

Mok Wana felt a wave of dizziness. Her instincts screamed at her to press him.

“You...!”

But no words followed. She couldn’t even figure out how to argue.

It wasn’t as though Tang Mujin had gained anything from the lie, nor had she suffered any loss.

Even if he truly had belonged to some great clan, her lot in life wouldn’t have changed for the better.
Whether this was the Sichuan Tang Clan or the Tang Family Clinic, the one living in luxury would have been Tang Mujin, not her. She was just an accidental tag-along.

‘...Now that I think about it, I didn’t actually lose anything, did I?’

If anything, compared to living uneasily among countless strangers, her current circumstances weren’t bad at all. Over the past three days, her life had been downright comfortable.

As Mok Wana fell silent, lost in thought, Tang Mujin grew anxious and stammered out whatever came to mind.

“If you think about it... it wasn’t really a lie so much as an exaggeration. In terms of future goals and ambition, you could even say there’s a measure of truth in it...”

It was rambling, incoherent, and hardly persuasive.
But suddenly, Mok Wana’s expression brightened.

“Mm. That makes sense. Alright then.”

She nodded to herself, satisfied, and walked away.
Left standing alone, Tang Mujin scratched his head as he watched her retreating figure.

***

The demon sect martial artists settled into houses around the Tang Family Clinic, each setting up separately.

Calling it “independence” was generous—it was more like partial separation.
Their only standard when choosing a house was proximity to the clinic. Some even lived with their walls directly adjoining the clinic’s.

Even the ones furthest away could reach the clinic within half a quarter-hour’s walk. Whenever a discussion was needed, they naturally gathered in the clinic’s courtyard.

The Tang Family Clinic was steadily turning into something far more than a mere clinic.

At that very time, the Cheongseong Sect’s leader, Yeong Heoja, was mired in deep concern. The reason: the tale delivered by Huang Ryeongja.

‘This is troublesome.’

The Demon Sect was, at its core, a gathering of fugitives.

Righteous sect martial artists had always looked at them with disapproval, but it wasn’t so much hatred or vengeance as it was irritation—like being annoyed at a gang in the next neighborhood harboring a runaway who caused trouble.

Because of that, righteous-evil wars (jeong-sa daejŏn) and righteous-demon wars (jeong-ma daejŏn) were of a completely different nature.

The jeong-sa daejŏn erupted when black-path and unorthodox martial artists rose up like wildfire in the north or south, escalating into a massive struggle for dominion over the central plains.

The jeong-ma daejŏn, however, broke out when the righteous sects gathered and marched on Mt. Tianshan.
It happened when a criminal guilty of unforgivable sins fled into the Demon Sect, prompting many sects with aligned interests to demand his surrender and storm the mountain.

Because such occasions were rare, jeong-ma daejŏn happened far less often than jeong-sa daejŏn—once in a hundred years was already considered frequent.

And even then, the righteous sects always struck first, while the Demon Sect simply focused on defense.

‘But will it remain so in the future?’

From what Huang Ryeongja reported, the new Demon Sect leader was nothing like his predecessors. He openly showed intent to rise up and place the central plains beneath his feet.

His promise to impart martial arts to his followers was also ominous—it meant turning the Demon Sect from a refuge into a true military force.

The only comfort was the generous span of ten years he had proclaimed.

Gathering the fractured righteous sects together would take time, but not ten full years.

After some thought, Yeong Heoja gave his command to Huang Ryeongja.

“Send carrier pigeons to every alliance and sect. Coordinate schedules with as many sects and clans as possible. We must convene a council.”