The Reformed Genius of the Sichuan Tang Clan - Chapter 36

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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 36
On the road to a village near Seok Rim, following the order of Dang Gangheon.
Dang Yuhyeon cast a sidelong glance at his traveling companion, arms folded across his chest.
“But why are you coming along with us?”
“Well? Because the Family Head ordered it?”
At Dang Sanho’s perfectly innocent reply, Dang Yuhyeon’s face went slack with disbelief.
‘That’s not what I asked.’
Those dispatched on this journey were only Dang Roe, Dang Sanho, Dang Yongmyeong, and Dang Yuhyeon.
Dang Roe, commander of the Heukgang Division, and Dang Yongmyeong, vice-commander of the Cheongrin Division.
Dang Yuhyeon, included only because his father held the position of Family Head, was the exception.
But Dang Sanho—neither the head of Mandok Jeon nor even a proper member, merely a scholar attached to it—seemed to have no logical reason for being sent at all.
‘Why?’
Dang Yuhyeon studied Dang Sanho.
When their eyes met by chance, Dang Sanho didn’t look away but stared back steadily, so Dang Yuhyeon turned his head first.
‘Never mind. Let’s just not poke the hornet’s nest.’
You don’t touch a madman.
Whatever scheme he had in mind, he wouldn’t do anything that would harm the Dang Family.
If he did, I could deal with it myself.
The moment Dang Yuhyeon turned away, Dang Sanho, riding a horse a step behind, burst into loud laughter.
“Ah, don’t be so cold about it. My heart is breaking.”
At his melodramatic reply, the others around them instinctively glanced at Dang Yuhyeon to gauge his reaction.
“And since we’re not at Yeon Hak Gak anymore, you don’t need to speak formally to me.”
“True enough.”
No need for the instructor’s courtesy?
That suits me fine.
Dang Yuhyeon pulled back on the reins to slow his pace and asked, “You’re attached to Mandok Jeon, aren’t you?”

“I am.”
“And you know what we’re doing out here?”
“I do.”
At his straightforward answer, Dang Yuhyeon raised an eyebrow.
He meant it as a question: Do you really understand what I’m asking?
Then Dang Sanho’s nose twitched slightly.
It was his way of saying yes, he understood perfectly.
They’d sent someone skilled in poisons to a place where they needed to identify corpses—or rather, wounds.
‘What’s the angle?’
Reading the silence and the stare as a command for explanation, Dang Sanho spoke first.
“I can read scars a bit.”
Dang Sanho tapped his own wrist lightly.
“Gwak Hwaran must have gripped quite hard. The burn marks last quite a while.”
……
The burn scars on Dang Yuhyeon’s wrist were indeed a lingering wound from when his arm had been seized during his fight with Gwak Hwaran.
Just from looking at it once, he’d caught on.
‘So he wasn’t sent here for nothing.’
Dang Yuhyeon smiled faintly and nodded.
“Sharp eyes you have.”
“That’s the bare minimum if you work in Mandok Jeon.”
Dang Sanho sniffed and grinned.
“If you’re interested, come join us at Mandok Jeon. What I said then was sincere. You have talent.”
“Ha.”
“If you found it strange how I read the wound, you’ll pick it up just as quickly. A medical text or two, observe a few people—that’s all it takes.”
The ability to read a wound and infer the weapon and circumstance behind it.
I have something similar myself.
But I’ll never join Mandok Jeon.
“I’d like to give you an answer, but it doesn’t seem like now is the time.”
Dang Yuhyeon tightened his grip on the reins.
As the horse’s front hooves descended, he saw a crowd of burly men wearing flipped animal hides surge forward.
They had the appearance of bandits, but they were not bandits.
They were assassins.
‘If they were real bandits, there’d be shouting and chaos already.’
Everyone here was aware of that fact.
Dang Sanho glared at the assassins, then shrugged his shoulders.
“Seems Jeom Chang is quite upset, is he?”
Dang Yuhyeon let out a soft, deflating sound.
Of course. They’d spent money, deployed personnel, invested time—and transformed it all into their own achievements. If someone tried to set the record straight, they’d come at him with fire in their eyes.
Since there’d been nothing said all this while, they’d felt safe. Now a spark had landed on their toes.
‘Who told them to distort things in the first place?’
If you keep quiet, you might at least keep half.
Looking at what you lot have done, the late Seo Jonghho is probably drowning himself in a wine jar in the afterlife.
Your own family has likely worn a groove in their foreheads from bowing and apologizing because of your deeds.
Tsk, tsk.
It’s all karma from your poor instruction of your descendants.
“Acting without honor, committing every sordid deed.”
“These history-distorters—why shouldn’t we send assassins after them?”
Dang Sanho’s eyes went wide at the certainty in his tone.
The others felt it too.
They understood now that this mission to Yunnan was far from a light one.
It could easily be interpreted as resentment toward the Murim League, and in the worst case, it might spark a schism within the Orthodox Faction itself.
Wasn’t it too dangerous? Wouldn’t it be better to turn back now? If they’d never wanted to abandon this, it would be a lie.
Yet Dang Yuhyeon—who had risen from a worthless fool to a hidden master in a single moment—spoke without a trace of fear.
That Jeom Chang had stolen what belonged to the Dang Family.
That conviction gave them strength.
If a man who trusts the Dang Family so steadfastly stands beside them, then perhaps this time…….
“Should we spare them?”
“Any need to?”
“None.”
“Then that settles it.”
At Dang Yuhyeon’s words, Dang Sanho and the others sent by the Dang Family plunged their hands into their sleeves in unison.
Clink.
What lay between their fingers was no Flying Blade.
It was poison.
“Kill them.”
Whoooosh! Whoooosh!
The moment the command fell, they scattered Poison Sand and Poison Liquid simultaneously.
The arc was wide; the wind blew backward.
There was no danger of it reaching this side.
“Aaaaaaaagh!”
“Aaaaaaaagh!”
The assassins, who had kept their identities hidden, shrieked in agony.
The Poison Sand rode the wind into their eyes, noses, mouths.
The assassins who managed to shield themselves with their masks charged forward again, but they couldn’t dodge the Poison Liquid that came next.
Whoooosh!
Sizzzzzzle!
The purple liquid melted their skin and twisted it grotesquely.
“Aaaaaaaagh!”
The assassins struck by the poison clawed at the ground, feeling as though their entire bodies were ablaze, then fell silent.
After that single wave of poison passed, only a handful of hardy veterans remained.
“You bastards……! Why aren’t you getting up?”
“Instead of talking to corpses, why don’t you worry about your own neck, hmm?”
As Dang Yuhyeon jeered, the assassin who appeared to be the leader ground his teeth.
“Or is it that you only find your nerve when you have worthless grunts to throw at the problem?”
“You little shit……!”
Cornered as he was, the man knew the provocation was transparent, yet he had no choice but to take the bait.
Crack!
The man yanked his power upward in an instant and kicked out.
The sole remaining assassin at his side saw this and immediately rushed at Dang Yuhyeon.
Eyes blazing with killing intent. Palpably transformed presence.
They would not fall without a fight.
‘Already too late, though.’
Dang Yuhyeon raised his hand, stopping his companions who were reaching for their Poison Needles.
“That’s enough. Save it.”
What good would it do to waste poison on corpses?
My Martial Power wasn’t what it once was, but I hadn’t grown so rusty I’d need to rely on children’s hands.
So keep the poison.
“These aren’t the kind of men worth using it on.”
“A man about to die, and still his tongue wags!”
The two assassins drew their arms back toward their bodies, preparing to swing their blades in wide arcs.
In that instant.
Shriek—shriek—shriek—shriek!
Splurt!
Two silvered lines of light pierced through their foreheads.
The two broad-framed men, marked with identical wounds, collapsed without resistance.
Thud.
“Miserable wretches…… Ugh!”
The blustering assassin’s final breath escaped as a faint wheeze.
Dang Yuhyeon casually flicked his wrist to retrieve the Flying Blade, as though it were nothing.
“Something foul has soiled it.”
“Ah…….”
He muttered coldly, and Dang Yongmyeong let out a small sound of admiration.
‘Look at their reaction.’
Without even glancing around, I could sense it—the way their eyes upon me had shifted.
‘Good. Keep looking at me that way.’
If I build my reputation now, later when I do whatever needs doing, he’ll assume it all had meaning and let it pass.
As Dang Yuhyeon turned away, those who’d grown uncomfortably aware of themselves began to cough awkwardly.
Dang Sanho, who’d been watching them intently, chuckled and changed the subject.
“They attacked first, and they still…”
Quite right.
When Dang Yuhyeon dismounted, the others descended as one and began searching the corpses.
For men who’d spent their entire lives consuming poison and wielding it, masks and gloves were unnecessary.
“Nothing of value found.”
Dang Sanho, who’d examined the corpses most swiftly and thoroughly, shook his head.
He’d inspected the least damaged bodies first in order, but found nothing to prove their identity or origin.
This meant only one thing.
‘Lower-grade assassins were hired.’
In the Martial Arts World today, assassins are ranked by whether they belong to Sal Gak or not.
Even within Sal Gak itself there are hierarchies of prestige, but those belonging there are recognized as professional assassins.
Those without such affiliation, however, are treated as mere drifters, the sort who prowl about in packs.
Yet whoever had sent assassins to block our path—taking such pains to conceal their origin by disguising these men as bandits—had chosen such unremarkable ones?
‘It wasn’t sent by Jeom Chang.’
Those people wouldn’t shy away from confrontation, and if they meant to bury someone, they’d do it thoroughly even at the cost of their reputation—they wouldn’t resort to such shallow tactics.
The only possible connection I could think of was Wi Jigyeong, but surely those proud elders wouldn’t move on the word of a single third-rate disciple alone.
And a man with such obvious pride wouldn’t readily admit his own defeat to them.
Even if he had, the timing doesn’t fit.
It’s already been seven days since I met Wi Jigyeong. Adding up the time it would take to hire assassins, for them to receive the commission, and for them to ride out and reach us—it’s impossible for them to have arrived by now.
‘Then these men are a warning.’
Don’t dig any deeper.
If you ruin the carefully constructed picture, you’ll come to regret it.
So then.
Who?
With the tip of my boot, I rolled the corpse so it faced the sky, thinking.
Not Jeom Chang.
Then who?
Is there a traitor within the Dang Family?
Who among those few the Family Head told in confidence?
Or is it the work of someone else entirely, acting in collusion with Jeom Chang?
The more branches my assumptions grew, the more my skin bristled.
I felt it in my bones.
This journey was far more dangerous than I’d thought.
Sichuan Dang Family’s Prodigal Returns to the Right Path
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Lee Il-yeong
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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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