The Reformed Genius of the Sichuan Tang Clan - Chapter 32

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 32
Dang Jong-cheon’s way of conversation is nothing elaborate.
He simply strips away the formal titles—you, one, that person—and speaks by weaving metaphor and truth together, unadorned.
And so in this place, there exists neither the Thirteenth Elder Dang Jong-cheon nor the Young Master Dang Yu-hyeon.
There are merely two people.
For that reason, no grandiose titles were needed.
Only you and he. Nothing more.
“I recently acquired a book whose title had been erased.”
“Then that book’s title would be Nameless, would it not?”
Dang Jong-cheon nodded.
“The book concerned the story of a man. Not one raised with gentleness—he rolled and bruised his way through life, stumbling from one end to the other. He cut down those who blocked his path ahead, and he cut down those who stepped boldly into his way, and on and on he walked without ceasing. What do you make of such a life?”
“Its ending frightens me.”
“I am listening.”
Dang Yu-hyeon, seized by a sudden ache in his head, furrowed his brow.
It was a familiar story.
He had turned away from it countless times, pretending not to know, yet there was no escaping it in the end.
“Because he was filled with so much, he lived a hollow life.”
This was his own story.
“The moon wanes when full, and water flows when it overflows. The empty becomes full, the full becomes empty. So it flowed.”
……
“And so, the more he came to understand, the more emptiness hollowed him out.”
A life of ashes and turbidity—gaining much while losing much.
Dang Yu-hyeon understood this better than anyone.
He had become the First of the Dang Clan, yet could not trust his family, all of them itching to kill one another; he had become the greatest under heaven, yet could not bring himself to form a true friendship with anyone.
And so, despite his brilliant outward appearance, he lived a solitary existence.
“Your words ring true. He could not endure that dark life, and so he became a Sword Demon, yearning for death rather than living. Ironically, as he killed others, he hoped that someone would kill him and bring it all to an end.”
“Is there no continuation to the story?”
“Regrettably, the latter half had been torn away, as if cut by a blade.”
“How strange. It seems the story displeased someone.”
“Perhaps.”
“I find myself drawn to it all the more because the ending remains unknown.”
“In your view, how do you suppose his end would be?”
The answer was simple.
There was no end.
Light becomes darkness, darkness becomes light.
Day becomes night, night becomes morning.
An endless rush toward the opposite.
Yet they did not turn over like the flip of a palm; they were woven together.
An end is but another beginning, and death is merely another name for life.
As he was, as that man was.
“Did I not already tell you? The empty becomes full, the full becomes empty. And so, filling that emptied heart again, he would live on.”
“But that is no ending, is it?”
“Life is beautiful because it remains unfinished. If one arbitrarily decides where it ends, there is no beauty in it.”
“You speak truly.”
Dang Jong-cheon nodded.
“In truth, I know part of what came after. I tried to piece together the torn sections, but the effort failed, and so I can no longer see it.”
“What a pity. What was its content?”
“In the midst of death, he found life, and there he met a dear friend. That friend revealed to him the beauty of living, to one who had only death remaining.”
“A good friend indeed.”
“Truly so.”
Dang Jong-cheon’s eyes, gazing down at his tea cup, grew moist with remembrance.
In that cup, which reflected only a sturdy man, he saw the layers of years piled upon each other.
Dang Yu-hyeon understood.
The man was Dang Jong-cheon, and the friend was the Previous Patriarch of Dang.
Nameless. To one who had been stripped of everything and called by that hollow name, a place to belong was given, and a true name.
Meaning—like a shackle—was bound to a transient life, keeping him from drifting away.
Not all who stand at the threshold of death wish to die.
The Previous Patriarch had simply read that truth in Dang Jong-cheon.
Only the world had failed to read it in Dang Yu-hyeon—or more precisely, in Dang Hyeon-cheol.
“It was then I understood. Even on barren ground, flowers can bloom.”
Dang Jong-cheon spoke of his own transformation.
“Then let me ask again. Do flowers bloom even on barren ground?”
And he questioned Dang Yu-hyeon’s potential.
“If that ground is no longer the barren wasteland you imagine, then I see hope and far more beyond it.”
His voice came out hard as deadwood.
“There is nothing fixed and unchanging in this world. All things transform, and so can I—far more than you might think.”
Dang Jong-cheon met Dang Yu-hyeon’s gaze.
Eyes that did not waver in the slightest. Utterly straight.
The eyes of one who, having decided something was right, would never bend his will.
“Some desire to see one ride the wind and cut through ten thousand leagues of waves.”
Dang Yu-hyeon knew instinctively.
The Great Talk was over.
“I understand there are still none in the Council of Elders who support the Second Young Master.”
“Shamefully, that is so.”
“I will stand behind you.”
“…!”
From the moment he discovered the Nameless Pavilion, Dang Yu-hyeon had sensed a subtle favorability in him, but he never expected Dang Jong-cheon would actually support him.
If the Thirteenth Elder of the Dang Clan—the one who researched their Martial Arts Study—backed Dang Yu-hyeon, the current within the clan would shift entirely.
Enough to sway even the succession that had hardened around Dang San.
“I look forward to what you will show me.”
“You will not be disappointed.”
“Quite confident, aren’t you? This is my first Great Talk with the Second Young Master, but it exceeds my expectations.”
Dang Jong-cheon smiled faintly and set down the empty tea cup.
“Visit again next time. I receive fine tea in great quantity, but I have few guests to share it with.”
“I shall visit with gladness.”
With his business concluded, Dang Yu-hyeon rose from his seat.
“I will take my leave now.”
Dang Yu-hyeon bowed respectfully and stepped out of the Study Hall.
Beyond, a pale dawn was breaking.
* * *
Dang Yu-hyeon found Seon-u Yun after he had fully recovered.
The Black Steel Corps would compile and report their findings; passing the documents to Dok-hak Pavilion or delivering the Moonlit Shadow Sword to the Dang Patriarch would not be difficult.
But Seon-u Yun, who was not of the Dang Clan, would be hard to meet again once he left.
“You’re awake?”
“Brother Dang! Ah, no—I greet the Second Young Master.”
Seon-u Yun broke off from organizing his belongings and hurried over to bow.
“After fighting together, there’s no need for such formality. Speak freely.”
He had never lived as the Second Young Master before, so it felt awkward every time he heard it.
“How is your wound?”
“No problems.”
“I hear your sister has recovered well too.”
“The healers say she needs only a few more days of rest.”
“But you will leave with her, won’t you?”
“…!”
Dang Yu-hyeon gestured with his eyes toward the belongings Seon-u Yun had been organizing.
“How did you know?”
“Just. The movements of one who stays are different from those of one who will leave.”
“Hah. Impressive. The truth is, there are reasons I cannot remain any longer.”
“What reasons might those be?”
Seon-u Yun did not answer at once; instead, he turned the conversation.
“While I was recovering, I heard that the Ha-o Mun requested cooperation.”
“They did.”
“Is that true?”
“It couldn’t be.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Seon-u Yun nodded.
Had the Ha-o Mun truly requested cooperation, Gwa-weol Tower would have been resolved before they even had a chance to act.
“I learned something during my recovery—it seems I have a connection to that place.”
‘As I thought.’
Seon-u Yun was indeed of the Ha-o Mun Master’s bloodline.
Wherever my name was heard, they knew my bloodline existed and that I’d made a mark—so they told me to cast aside everything I’d forgotten and come, that they’d raise me.
What lay beneath their words was transparent enough.
But Dang Yu-hyeon opened his eyes wide, feigning ignorance of it all.
“They said they knew I was there and would come retrieve me.”
“Not somewhere like Gwa-weol Tower?”
“No. They valued my talents, and I chose to go as well.”
Dang Yu-hyeon nodded.
He had no intention of stopping Seon-u Yun.
‘A bird that knows the law of flight must be allowed to soar.’
His role was to wait for the seed he’d planted to grow.
“I’ll go to Ha-o Mun and grow stronger, and I swear I’ll repay the debt of your kindness.”
“Growing into a fine man is enough repayment for me.”
“No! I cannot accept that!”
Seon-u Yun raised his voice.
‘Settle yourself. I spoke no falsehood.’
If Seon-u Yun grew into a worthy man, he would surely remember this day and seek to repay it.
When that time came, Dang Yu-hyeon would simply ask for whatever benefited himself and the Dang Clan most.
Of course, beyond such calculation, there lived in him a genuine wish for Seon-u Yun’s growth.
‘What a simple and perfect arithmetic it is.’
Yet Seon-u Yun seemed to have taken it differently.
‘He must think me some fool or a charitable do-gooder.’
That was a grave misunderstanding.
Even now, wasn’t he staying silent instead of explaining which side held the greater profit?
“I may have nothing to promise now, but I swear I will become someone of use to you—someone worth knowing.”
“Good. I’ll wait.”
They looked at each other, then turned away in unison.
No tired pleasantries about being careful, traveling safely, or meeting again someday.
They both knew such words were impossible, so it was better to speak nothing than to burden the moment with hollow speech.
Silence was the farewell that suited them best.
Sichuan Dang Clan Redemption Through Genius
Author |
Yi Il-yeong
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Samyang C&C Co., Ltd.
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Editorial Department
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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