The Reformed Genius of the Sichuan Tang Clan - Chapter 61

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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 61
‘So much for a reunion. The boy’s still just a boy.’
His face remained expressionless, yet the corners of his mouth twitched upward.
He seemed to relish this moment—a chance to enjoy himself without the weight of real danger.
“Are you badly hurt?”
“My body’s fine. If anything took damage, it was my pride.”
Muo’s expression had visibly hardened as he spoke.
It wasn’t because he was dwelling on the bitter loss.
Had he been the type to crumble over such things, he would never have reached his current level of Martial Prowess.
“Is something the matter?”
“……Did you watch my Martial Match?”
“No. The match was still underway when I didn’t manage to see it.”
Muo nodded slowly.
“My opponent—Hae Muyoung. That man wasn’t fighting to win.”
Muo’s eyes narrowed as if he’d witnessed something deeply unsettling.
“From the middle of the bout, I felt it. When I was in a position where I could have won, he deliberately slowed his pace, observed my response, and only then finished me.”
“……!”
The implication of Muo’s words was unmistakable.
Hae Muyoung had gathered information from his Martial Match with Muo.
‘He was probably trying to see the Dang Clan’s martial arts and the abilities of the Latter Stage Index that represents them.’
He’d already suspected that winning wasn’t the goal from the start.
But what ripples the information Hae Muyoung had collected might cause…….
“Your next opponent will likely be a Junior Member.”
He’d already anticipated as much.
“That’s who he’s after. I was only a stepping stone before that.”
At Muo’s confident tone, Dang Youxuan fell silent for a moment before speaking.
“I’m grateful for the warning. Is that all you came to say?”
“Hardly.”
Muo chuckled softly and pulled a carefully folded piece of paper from his pocket.
‘Why does he fold paper with such precise measurements?’
Dang Youxuan slightly crumpled one corner of it.
Sharp.
In an instant, a piercing glare shot toward him.
‘What’s his problem?’
Crease.
Dang Youxuan folded the paper with deliberate carelessness, leaving a mark.
“Ugh…….”
Muo’s brow furrowed as though he’d been struck a physical blow.
‘Surely he doesn’t have some kind of obsessive compulsion or symmetry disorder?’
Among the people he knew, several shared this particular quirk with Muo.
But those men had long since abandoned such fastidiousness in the crucible of countless wars.
Dang Youxuan opened the paper with an expression suggesting he’d seen all manner of absurdities.
“……!”
His fingers, which had been moving deliberately clumsily, stilled the moment he saw the characters written inside.
Human Fire Mark.
A familiar symbol.
“During the match, I caught a glimpse beneath his hat. There was a marking like this below his neck.”
“I remember he was wearing clothes that came all the way up to his neck.”
“His garments fluttered more than a few times during the bout. It was so clearly visible that ignoring it was difficult.”
“I see.”
Dang Youxuan hummed lightly and fixed his gaze back on the characters.
Once again, these marks.
But this time they weren’t as inscrutable.
‘Seonwoo Yun showed me the emblem of the Flame Pavilion once before.’
Now it became clear.
The marking inscribed on Hae Muyoung’s body and the emblem of the Flame Pavilion were subtly different.
‘Then Hae Muyoung isn’t from the Flame Pavilion.’
He was from the Red Sea Faction.
‘The difference in emblems must be because there’s the old Flame Pavilion and the current one.’
Once that tangled thread came loose, the rest unraveled of its own accord.
The present Flame Pavilion and Red Sea Faction both sprang from the same root as the old Flame Pavilion.
More precisely, it would be correct to say that the Red Sea Faction split away from the Flame Pavilion.
Then why did the Red Sea Faction use the insignia of the old Flame Pavilion?
There were two possibilities.
Either they had not completely abandoned their identity as the old Flame Pavilion, or they wished to cast blame upon the current Flame Pavilion instead.
‘They’ll be exposed eventually anyway—so why go to such lengths?’
Had this always been their practice, or was it merely for this Dragon Phoenix Assembly?
No clear answer emerged.
Dang Youxuan pressed his lips into a line, then opened his mouth to speak.
“Have you heard of the Flame Pavilion?”
“I understand they operate in the vicinity of Seohwa. They lay quiet for a time, but recently have taken up plundering again.”
“And the Red Sea Faction?”
“They too operate near Seohwa, though they came into being far more recently than the Flame Pavilion.”
“What if those two share the same root?”
Muo’s eyes widened at the unforeseen possibility.
“If the old Flame Pavilion split into what is now the Flame Pavilion and the Red Sea Faction?”
“……Then it makes sense that the Red Sea Faction, being relatively disadvantaged in intelligence, would hide themselves within the Dragon Phoenix Assembly.”
“Precisely.”
Yet Dang Youxuan did not believe the Red Sea Faction moved solely for lack of information.
‘Whatever their reason, their target is me.’
If Muo spoke with such certainty that he himself was secondary, then they must want something from Dang Youxuan.
Whether it was treasure of the Dang Clan, martial prowess, information—
Or his life.
“Be cautious.”
Muo’s voice dropped lower, as though he had arrived at the same conclusion.
‘I was already planning to.’
Dang Youxuan nodded instead of answering.
“It grows late. There are still many matches ahead, and I worry I have been an obstacle to your rest.”
“Think nothing of it.”
It had been a long while since waking hours outnumbered those of sleep.
A single sleepless night would make no difference.
“Still, should the junior member fail to show his true skill tomorrow because of our meeting tonight, my conscience would trouble me. Thus I think it best we look forward to our next encounter.”
“Do as you wish.”
“Then I shall eagerly await the day we meet again.”
“As shall I.”
After a brief nod of farewell, the two men vanished into shadow as though they had never come at all.
* * *
The morning of the third preliminary round.
Dang Youxuan approached the matchup board with practiced ease.
‘They’ve played their tricks exactly as I foresaw.’
In the second bracket, the name plaques for Dang Youxuan and Hae Muyoung were placed side by side.
What could this mean?
It meant precisely what he had anticipated: Shaolin was moving to secure his victory.
‘How laughable.’
Dang Eunho approached his side.
“Look at this. I’m fighting first today, it seems.”
“You’ve arrived.”
Dang Young, peering from behind Dang Eunho, let out a quiet laugh.
“Did you see those name plaques? I bet they thought the Dang Clan could only succeed through poison. Bet they’re nursing some heartburn now.”
Dang San, hands clasped behind his back, added his own quip.
“Those who think such things are simply foolish.”
Dang Youxuan let out a soft chuckle.
A hundred years would see mountains shift and rivers change their course.
To think the Dang Clan would remain in ruin all that time was a grave miscalculation.
“And my opponent wields the Zhengtian Fist? The Hwangbo Clan can be troublesome……”
Dang Youxuan’s eyes drifted briefly to confirm Dang Eunho’s opponent on the board.
Hwangbo Tae-gang.
A sub-family head of the Hwangbo Clan, on the verge of entering his thirties.
“Why? You should defeat him without difficulty.”
“Hah. I’m grateful for your confidence in me, but sub-family heads are another matter entirely from ordinary opponents.”
“Age aside, he’s spent so much time with our older brother that he’s memorized all our techniques.”
“He’s not an easy opponent for me either. He’s grown accustomed to blocking Secret Techniques with raw force, so I have to shift my approach slightly each time to win.”
“It seems like that fellow is hell-bent on defeating you. Otherwise, there’s no way he’d prepare so thoroughly against Secret Techniques alone.”
“Exactly. We ought to rename his epithet from the Zhengtian Fist to the Sticky Fist!”
“Sticky Fist? That doesn’t sound right. Now I like fighting him even less.”
He griped about the phrasing, but made no denial of Hwangbo Tae-gang’s obsession.
That much was clear—the Hwangbo Clan had been keeping close watch on the Dang Clan.
‘A man pushing thirty, keeping tabs on boys a decade younger? What’s he thinking?’
Didn’t he feel ashamed at that age?
A Sub-Family Head with nothing better to do than that?
As he sighed heavily, Dang Eunho sidled up and whispered.
“By the way, would it be wise to avoid using poison in this Martial Match as well?”
Dang Youxuan delayed his answer, rolling his eyes to regard Hwangbo Tae-gang.
Broad shoulders spread wide.
Rough, capable hands—evidence of long practice and experience.
A formidable opponent.
“No. This time you can use it.”
“Really?”
Since it was clear that Hae Muyoung’s target was Dang Youxuan alone, there would be no need to hold back his strength.
Of course, these were not the sort of men who revealed their full power in a Martial Match anyway.
“Go ahead. Fight with everything you have.”
“Understood!”
Though there was nothing he absolutely had to keep in reserve, receiving permission alone was enough to set Dang Eunho grinning as he walked toward the arena.
“The first match of the main bracket, third round: Junior Member Dang Eunho of the Sichuan Dang Family versus Junior Member Hwangbo Tae-gang of the Hwangbo Clan!”
“The Dang Clan and the Hwangbo Clan face off again!”
“Will the Dang Clan win this time too?”
“What are you saying! Yesterday it was a branch family member, but today it’s direct blood—and a Sub-Family Head at that!”
“Even for a top-tier warrior, the Zhengtian Fist won’t make this easy, will it?”
“This match belongs to the Zhengtian Fist.”
“…Noisy lot.”
A low voice.
Not Dang Eunho’s.
It was Hwangbo Tae-gang’s.
Dang Eunho found it odd that Hwangbo Tae-gang had voiced his own thoughts aloud.
‘Ah, so a Sub-Family Head really does think more deeply and carry himself with gravity.’
But watching from a distance, Dang Youxuan let out a scoff.
‘He’s joking.’
That wasn’t depth of thought or gravity.
That was just a foul temperament.
“Making a fuss over a simple match.”
Sichuan Dang Family: The Prodigy’s Redemption
Author |
Yi Il-yeong
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Samyang C&C Co., Ltd.
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Editorial Department
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The contents of this book may not be reproduced in any form or by any means without the written permission of Samyang C&C Co., Ltd. – Dreambooks.

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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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