Surviving as the Sacheon Dang Clan’s Servant - Chapter 56

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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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Episode 56
Deok Ju, shut out from the Qi Barrier, stared at me with a bewildered expression. His hand fidgeted with the Bi Sword as if he didn’t know what to do.
He couldn’t recklessly break the barrier without me stopping him, yet standing idle wasn’t an option either—his dilemma was plain to see.
I exchanged a glance with Deok Ju and bit the soft flesh inside my mouth.
I tried to gauge whether the poison in the bracelet was potent enough to suppress Hwa Hong, but I couldn’t be certain.
More than that, I didn’t even know if poison would work on Hwa Hong at all.
As my hand drifted slowly toward my sleeve, Hwa Hong spoke in measured tones.
“I harbor no intent to harm you, Young Lady. How could I raise a hand against beloved Choryeon’s precious daughter? I merely wished to offer you a warm cup of tea.”
“That’s not a conversation you’d have after separating me from my escort, is it?”
“Ah, if I have caused you unease, I beg your pardon, Young Lady. Your escort harbors secrets they wish to keep hidden, so I found myself compelled to act as I did.”
Hwa Hong, her long lashes lowered, placed a kettle over a small brazier.
“A private matter?”
“Indeed.”
As the water began to bubble and boil, steam poured from the kettle’s spout.
I waved my hand toward Deok Ju.
It’s. Fine. Now.
At the shape of my lips, Deok Ju’s eyes softened.
But he did not return the Bi Sword to his belt. He kept his guard raised, unwilling to relax his vigilance.
Hwa Hong, seemingly indifferent to Deok Ju’s sharp wariness, merely smiled.
With unhurried grace, she steeped the tea and set a warm cup before me.
“Drink while it’s warm, Young Lady.”
Of course, I merely mimicked drinking and set the cup down. Hwa Hong laughed as if she’d expected nothing less.
“You’re cautious—a trait you share with Choryeon. She too refused any tea but what I prepared myself.”
Hwa Hong’s gaze, searching my face for traces of Choryeon, turned distant. It was not a pleasant look.
I spoke bluntly.
“I am not Choryeon.”
“If I’ve offended you, I apologize, Young Lady. This Hwa Hong momentarily indulged in memory and overstepped.”
She apologized cleanly and clasped her hands.
I studied her hands carefully. They were beautiful for her age, unmarred by the calluses of martial training.
Yet she was a master skilled enough to deploy a Qi Barrier that Deok Ju couldn’t penetrate. She clearly wielded a weapon other than the sword.
As my eyes darted about, Hwa Hong let out a soft laugh.
“Curious about where my abilities come from? I’ve cultivated Yin Internal Energy. I may not possess the nimble frame of a martial artist, but I’ve accumulated considerable internal power—hardly what one would expect of a courtesan.”
“You’re willing to tell me that?”
“There’s no reason not to. Since you already regard me with suspicion, wouldn’t honesty serve better in earning your trust?”
What would a courtesan house proprietor gain from my trust?
I furrowed my brow, studying Hwa Hong. Her expression remained inscrutable.
A thought flashed through my mind, and my eyes widened.
The status of a courtesan, above all suspicion. Internal energy of such staggering volume. The use of Yin Internal Energy, a technique rarely employed by ordinary sects.
I wiped the sweat from my palm onto my knee as I asked.
“Are you—is Hwa Hong a person of the Hao Gate?”
At my question, Hwa Hong’s eyes changed.
* * *
The Hao Gate.
This sect, whose name employed characters meaning “lower” and “filth,” was an intelligence organization founded by those deemed worthless by the Martial World—thieves, pickpockets, courtesans, carters, and scullery maids.
It was also considered a rival to the Gaebang.
Where the Gaebang conducted their business on information gathered by beggars soliciting alms on the streets, the Hao Gate traded in intelligence collected by its members through their occupations and passengers they transported.
By nature, the Hao Gate often possessed more detailed information than the Gaebang.
No matter how resourceful a beggar, they couldn’t eavesdrop on conversations within an inn or a courtesan house.
Therefore, to obtain accurate information, one had to cross-reference and verify intelligence from both the Gaebang and the Hao Gate.
Namgoong Hui had always moved only after comparing information from both sources.
I struggled to recall the hazy plot of the novel.
How had the Hao Gate been portrayed in “Heaven-Dominating Namgoong”? I remembered the sect leader was a woman.
Watching her handle the Qi Barrier with such fluidity, I suspected Hwa Hong held no low position.
Hwa Hong seemed amused by my shifting expression and smiled with narrowed eyes.
“How perceptive you are, Young Lady. I orchestrated this little scheme hoping you might recognize me, and I’m delighted you’ve done so so quickly.”
“Why does the Hao Gate….”
“We couldn’t pass up the opportunity to forge a connection with the Dang Clan.”
“My brothers visit frequently, from what I understand.”
“An amusing thing to say. Surely you know better than anyone what sort of men your brothers are.”
“One complete bastard and one tone-deaf fox bitch.”
“…You certainly have a direct manner about you, Young Lady?”
Hwa Hong laughed, her voice bright and tinkling, but I couldn’t bring myself to join in.
There was something unsettling about the way she carried herself—as if we were old acquaintances, not strangers meeting for the first time.
I fidgeted with my teacup, then drew a long breath.
Why was she telling me this? Did she think my mother had connections to Wolhyang-ru, that if she pulled the right thread, something would fall loose?
But there was no reason to reveal myself as Hao Gate on first meeting.
If it became known that Wolhyang-ru’s owner was a Hao Gate disciple, no martial artist would set foot in that courtesan house.
Was she trying to draw me into Hao Gate? Or—was Choryeon also one of theirs?
Hwa Hong answered as if she’d read my thoughts.
“A misunderstanding, I assure you. How could I possibly urge the young lady of such a noble household to join Hao Gate? And Choryeon was merely an ordinary courtesan entertainer. I only hoped that child would never have blood on her hands.”
“If you want nothing from me, why reveal Hwa Hong’s true identity? What if I spread word of it?”
“Because you are Choryeon’s daughter.”
“…I beg your pardon?”
“Because you are Choryeon’s daughter, I wished to show you that I have the means to help you. It should never come to pass, but should you ever find yourself without a place to go—seek out Wolhyang-ru. I will aid you.”
Her words struck deep, and a chill ran down my spine.
She was telling me that the Dang Clan might someday abandon me.
“Your tea has grown cold. Allow me to pour you fresh.”
Hwa Hong emptied my cup with perfect composure and filled it anew. I met her gaze directly.
“Is that Hao Gate’s judgment, or yours?”
“Both. You were adopted into the Dang Clan under Dokwang’s protection. The moment he steps away, you’ll become a dog chasing chickens—it’s only a matter of time.”
“Then what do you believe I must do to secure my place in the Dang Clan?”
“It’s impossible.”
Hwa Hong shook her head without hesitation.
“This is not a matter your will alone can resolve. The Dang Clan is an insular lineage. Even the most brilliant talents, if not blood relations, remain mere supplements to those of direct descent.”
She sipped her tea with elegant grace before continuing.
“Consider the Seventh Elder, Dang Geun Myeong, for instance. Among all the current elders, he possesses the most formidable martial prowess, yet because he shares no blood relation to the family, no one acknowledges him. They treat him merely as Dokwang’s servant.”
So Geun Myeong was skilled enough to earn Hao Gate’s respect. A man of many talents, indeed.
“You carry the patriarch’s blood, so perhaps your path might differ—but it will be thorned. Unless you become an absolute master who pacifies all the Martial World of Zhongyuan, that is.”
“So eventually, there will come a moment when I need a new identity.”
“Keenly observed.”
I couldn’t trust everything Hwa Hong said, meeting her for the first time today.
But I couldn’t deny that her perspective, having seen and heard far more than I had, isolated as I was in Byeoldang, was likely more objective than mine.
Even from the outside, it seemed I would struggle to survive except in Dang Jung’s shadow.
So Grandfather’s relentless push to drive my cultivation forward had purpose after all.
My expression had grown rigid when Deok Ju, who had been hovering anxiously at the edge of the room, finally opened her mouth—as if asking if I was all right.
“Well, I think we’ve covered enough ground on such weighty matters. Shall we discuss something else?”
Hwa Hong clapped her hands, dissolving the Qi Barrier as she glanced toward Deok Ju.
Deok Ju rushed over and examined me carefully.
“Are you well, Young Lady?”
“Yes. I’m fine. It was nothing serious.”
Cold sweat beaded on Deok Ju’s brow where her hand gripped my shoulder. Her concern was unusual, out of character.
She’d remained composed even when Dang Young Ho tried to tear me apart. This is touching, Deok Ju.
“Your worry is unnecessary. In this land of Sichuan, surely no one would dare lay hands on blood of the Dang Clan.”
Hwa Hong laughed, covering her mouth playfully, and Deok Ju’s glare sharpened.
“Hwa Hong. Do not tease the Young Lady.”
“Tease? I merely spoke of her birth mother. Is that not so?”
“Yes. Deok Ju, I… that is… Mother was apparently quite skilled at painting.”
My stammering drew a small sigh from Deok Ju—one that seemed to say she would not report this to Grandfather.
“Since it’s come up, would you like to see some of Choryeon’s paintings?”
“I was just speaking off the top of my head, but… actually, yes. I would.”
Hwa Hong nodded gracefully and rose with fluid elegance, her skirts lifting smoothly.
“Choryeon had a remarkable gift for wisteria. The colors she captured were so exquisite you could almost smell their fragrance.”
“I see.”
“You too must have talent in poetry, calligraphy, art, and painting. Your birth mother was among the finest artists of her time, after all.”
If she’d seen my cramped, worm-like scrawl, she’d never say such things. Even Dang Un, who used to correct me relentlessly, had given up with that defeated look in his eyes these days.
As I recalled Dang Un’s faint smile, a thought struck me belatedly—and I nearly tore out my own hair.
Oh no! I left without telling Dang Un I was going out! He’ll be waiting for me!
“Young Lady, are you truly all right? If you’re feeling unwell, we can—”
“Deok Ju, I left without telling my brother I was going out. He’s going to scold me.”
“…….”
Deok Ju nodded quietly.

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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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