The Time-Limited Elixir of the Ruined Clan - Chapter 74

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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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The Doomed Heir of a Fallen Clan — Episode 74

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Inner Demon

.
It was the term used when darkness hidden in one’s depths rose its head and took hold, or when coal-black turmoil wound itself around the heart.
Usually, once the Inner Demon took root, a reckoning came not long after.
If the inner evil was laid bare, one became a Demonic Martial Artist and would be hunted; otherwise, one fell into Possession by Inner Demon and became crippled, or simply let the weapon slip from their hands.
In Dan Mok Hyeon U’s case, it was the latter. His Mental Cultivation Method had never stabilized; his internal energy remained shallow, his focus scattered, and so his hands trembled at the critical moment.
Even years of closed-door cultivation had not allowed him to truly overcome it.
‘Of course—he thinks he’s turned his nephew into a walking corpse.’
Dan Mok Ryeon stood with her hand at her hip, looking down into the pond. The carp within had begun to pale, its body gradually whitening in the crystal-clear water, its tail swishing contentedly.
It was the carp from Dan Mok Hyeon U’s quarters. Given what had happened with Huk-wol—the five-colored pheasant that had become a phoenix and departed—Dan Mok Ryeon was cautious enough not to feed it directly herself.
Yet simply clearing the water had restored the carp’s vitality; it had grown far more keen.
‘A healthy body houses a healthy mind.’
The Inner Demon was difficult to explain, but in essence it was turmoil of the heart. And how could it improve when he was alone in some dim corner, dwelling on the thought that he had left his nephew as good as dead?
A healthy body requires meeting people, requires conversation.
One must not avoid the cause, but pursue proper exercise and sleep, balanced meals as well.
‘And environmental change.’
Nothing is more fragile than a person’s resolve and state of mind. So the physical environment must shift first.
Much had already changed. Dan Mok Hyeon U had grown noticeably brighter than when they first met.
But this was still insufficient. Dan Mok Hyeon U had been the lord of the household even before his closed-door cultivation, and already then he had nephews and nieces—Dan Mok Ryeon and Dan Mok Bi.
Which meant that in reality, nothing around him had truly changed.
“Dan Mok Ryeon! You’ve come on a day with no flute lesson—what brings you?”
These days Dan Mok Hyeon U broke into a smile the moment he saw his niece.
“Uncle! I’ve come to ask a favor of you.”
“A favor of me?”
Dan Mok Hyeon U scooped her up into his arms and tilted his head. Dan Mok Ryeon chose her words with care.
“Have you heard that we’re taking in Branch Family children?”
“I have. Your aunt has been quite busy with that, hasn’t she?”
Dan Mok Hyeon U muttered it softly. Dan Mok Hyeon Yo had certainly been in high spirits lately.
“When those children arrive, they’ll need someone to teach them.”
“True. The household has instructors, and there’s also the Yu Seong Eighteen Masters reserve—”
“Could you teach those children their martial arts, Uncle?”
Dan Mok Hyeon U blinked, genuinely taken aback.
“Me? Wouldn’t the instructors teach them better than I could?”
Learning well and teaching others well were entirely different things, and all Prestigious Families maintained separate instructors to pass on the family’s martial arts.
Teaching the Branch Family children who would learn the household’s arts fell to such instructors.
“Grandfather said these new disciples will all become Pillars of Support for the clan—that they’re important.”
“Indeed.”
Most great families took in new disciples each year, including those from Branch Families.
“Since this is such an important matter, wouldn’t it be good if you participated as well? It’s always better to have more people to teach, isn’t it?”
Dan Mok Hyeon U adjusted his hold on Dan Mok Ryeon and gave his assent.
“That may be true, but whether I can do it well…”
“Uncle, you taught me letters beautifully, and you taught me the flute beautifully. You’ll surely teach the new children beautifully too.”
Dan Mok Hyeon U listened to her words with half belief and half doubt, his expression tightening slightly.
“I did teach you, that’s true…”
The thought seemed to lighten his heart a little, and he nodded. Soon a glimmer of anticipation crossed his face.
“When all those children arrive, this place will grow lively, won’t it?”
“It will be fun!”
“I hope so.”
Dan Mok Ryeon laughed. Dan Mok Hyeon U pressed his cheek gently against hers, smiling softly.

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The Hang Zhou marketplace street was clamorous—hawkers touting wares, people quarreling, laughter and chatter all tangled together in a cacophony of commerce.
Among them moved a man, mid-twenties perhaps, unhurried and measured, who could have passed for any street lounger idly tapping vendor stalls as he drifted past. Yet his bearing was deliberate, controlled.
‘Ah, what have we here—some noble miss taking the air for a stroll?’
He’d spotted them readily enough: a boy attendant, a nursemaid, and a pair of guards stationed at a discreet distance.
Their builds were impressive, their internal energy cultivated systematically and well—warriors of a Prestigious Family, without question.
Baek Ui Myeong’s expression twisted into something wry.
‘Well fed, well trained, every one of them.’
Born with talent, trained under capable masters, grown to competence enough to serve nobility. Such men were everywhere.
Baek Ui Myeong could never simply let them pass. He needed to test them, to draw a reaction—it was the only thing that satisfied him.
He let his gaze drift toward the child, their master.
A small pouch hung from the child’s waist, swaying slightly as they moved.
The money would be with the nursemaid, surely—the pouch was decoration, nothing more. But money wasn’t what mattered to him now.
Baek Ui Myeong drifted forward like a willow leaf caught in a breeze. A clumsy shoulder-bump was amateurs’ work.
The true art lay in gliding past as though by accident, one unremarkable face among the crowd, while your hands achieved their purpose before anyone drew breath.
The small stone in his palm flew so deftly that no one noticed; the merchant ahead cried out and clutched at his leg, bending double. While the passersby stared at the wounded man, Baek Ui Myeong slipped past the girl like smoke.
Baek Ui Myeong’s lips curved into a smile.
True assassination attempts required a different approach—this wouldn’t fool a real predator. To conceal one’s Killing Intent while striking was beyond all but the masters of the trade, and even a novice martial artist would sense it. That was what made killing so difficult.
But merely brushing close in a crowd? That was nothing.
His hand, hidden in his sleeve, closed around the pouch. These guards, for all their talk of watching their young charge, protecting those of worth and cultivation—they couldn’t even notice when their girl was stripped bare.

Baek Ui Myeong ducked into an empty alley and held the pouch up to the light, reading its contents by touch alone—one of his small pleasures.
‘Jade ornament, finely worked. That’ll fetch a tidy sum. Lamb stew and a cup of sorghum wine tonight, perhaps? With plenty of peppercorn, the meat tender and rich….’
He was in excellent humor.

“Ugh! Ack! Gah-huack!”
‘No—damn it—what the—!’

Baek Ui Myeong tried to curl up, to shield himself, to take fewer blows.
“Krrgh! Aaaack!”
Crack! Thud-thud-thud!
“S-stop! Please—stop, I beg—!”
Baek Ui Myeong had been walking through the alley, humming of lamb stew, when a small boy materialized before him as though from nowhere.
It took him a heartbeat to recognize the attendant who’d been standing beside the girl—the one whose master had just lost her pouch.
There was a tear-mark beneath his left eye, and his fine features had made Baek Ui Myeong linger a moment, wondering if he was a companion or merely a servant.
A prickle of unease ran down his spine.
He’d stolen from the girl’s party, then encountered her attendant in a deserted alley. It was an unfortunate coincidence.
— “Lost your way, boy?”
— “You’re the one who’s lost. I’ve been waiting. Are you stupid? You cut through the other alley and come straight here.”
— “What—what are you—”
Baek Ui Myeong tried to keep his voice light, casual, but the child’s blunt speech and disrespect made a vein stand out on his forehead. His caution drained away, replaced by anger. The boy extended his hand.
— “Give it back.”
— “Listen to this presumptuous brat, will you—speaking to an adult like that.”
Baek Ui Myeong laughed harshly. The boy only sighed.
— “I’m asking nicely. Hand it over. I’m busy.”
In retrospect, the boy had likely already abandoned any intention of accepting his words.
The deliberate insults, the rude speech—it was provocation, pure and simple. When Baek Ui Myeong laughed again and raised his fist threateningly, the boy merely watched him with tired eyes.
— “A pea-sized thing, and you don’t know your place before an adult!”
But the boy’s gaze traveled from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet, and he clicked his tongue.
He looked barely ten, yet his bearing was that of someone older, more seasoned.
— “Tsk, tsk…. I almost respect the persistence—knowing you can’t win but refusing to quit. But if that’s all you’ve got, just External Technique? That’s not persistence, that’s stupidity.”
Then came something worse than anger. Ice water seemed to flood through his mind.
‘Knowing you can’t win but refusing to quit’—those words hit like a blade of frost.

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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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