Episode 218: The Tang Family Head

Tang Mujin wandered the streets of Sichuan like a lone wolf, his expression tinged with melancholy.

To put it bluntly, there wasn’t a single friend willing to trade a cozy bed and a warm meal to accompany him.

“A solitary life.”

Of course, Tang Mujin had no intention of sleeping miserably on the streets.

As dusk fell, he found refuge at the home of Sam Anbul and Hyul Ugaek, where he spent a comfortable night. By now, Hyul Ugaek was already calling Sam Anbul “brother.”

The next morning, Tang Mujin quietly returned to the Tang family estate and sought out Tang Jesun.

Despite his son’s year-long absence, Tang Jesun remained unfazed, as if nothing had happened.

Tang Mujin felt a twinge of disappointment at his father’s indifference but decided to let it go.

“Perhaps it’s better this way—no worries on his part.”

As he left the study, Tang Mujin encountered two familiar faces: Dan Seolyeong and Namgung Myeong.

He cast a sidelong glance at his friend who hadn’t joined him on his journey, then approached Dan Seolyeong.

“Sorry I’m late. Things got more complicated than I expected.”

“I knew you weren’t just out having fun. Still, you were gone so long it was hard not to feel a bit neglected.”

Though Dan Seolyeong’s expression was one of mild disapproval, it was clear her annoyance had already dissipated. Her straightforward nature rarely held grudges.

However, today she seemed a bit weary.

Namgung Myeong chimed in with a teasing grin.

“Did you know? She was pacing in front of the guest house all night, waiting for you to come back. Bet she didn’t get much sleep.”

Dan Seolyeong protested in a high-pitched voice.

“When did I do that?”

“No need to hide it. I saw everything.”

“You’re talking nonsense. Get out.”

She gestured dismissively at Namgung Myeong, who chuckled in response.

While Tang Mujin, as her husband, might pretend to concede, Namgung Myeong had no such obligation.

But then, someone quietly approached and placed a hand on Namgung Myeong’s shoulder. It was Hyun Gong.

“Namgung Myeong, follow the lady’s orders.”

”…What’s going on?”

Hyun Gong didn’t answer, instead discreetly pressing a point on Namgung Myeong’s shoulder.

Only after his shoulders were immobilized did Namgung Myeong realize the situation. The opportunist had recognized the true power within the Tang family.

“Hyun Gong, you!”

Namgung Myeong twisted in a panic, but with his acupoints sealed, he couldn’t escape Hyun Gong’s grip.

Without hesitation, Hyun Gong tossed Namgung Myeong over the wall, then bowed to Dan Seolyeong.

“My lady, the nuisance has been dealt with.”

“Well done.”

Tang Mujin watched the absurd scene unfold with amusement before broaching a more serious topic.

“How’s Young?”

“He’s walking well and starting to talk quite a bit.”

“Is he in the guest house now?”

“If you’re going to see him, wait a bit. He just fell asleep. I hope he hasn’t forgotten what his dad looks like.”

Sensing the need for a change of subject, Tang Mujin rummaged through his belongings and handed Dan Seolyeong a new Rainstorm Blossom Needle.

“Want to take a look at this?”

As expected, Dan Seolyeong’s interest was piqued.

The Rainstorm Blossom Needle she had crafted was a bamboo cylinder encasing intricate mechanisms. But now, with the outer shell replaced by black whale baleen, it looked like an entirely different object.

Yet Dan Seolyeong recognized it instantly, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“Did you make a new one? What’s this black stuff?”

“It’s whale baleen. I replaced the leather straps inside with whale tendons and reinforced some of the internal parts.”

“How’s the power?”

“Better than I hoped. And more than you can imagine. If handled well, it could overpower most martial artists. Even Hyul Ugaek was so intrigued he got involved with us. Can you believe it?”

Pride shone on Dan Seolyeong’s face.

While Tang Mujin had improved the Rainstorm Blossom Needle, the original design was hers. She deserved most of the credit.

Dan Seolyeong spoke confidently.

“Great. Next time, I’ll make something even more impressive.”

“Really? Is that possible?”

“Of course. Maybe it’s time to move beyond needles and try launching something else. Or create a simple-to-use hidden weapon. Using needles all the time is a bit odd, don’t you think?”

It seemed she already had ideas in mind. Tang Mujin nodded, but cautioned her.

“Sounds good. But keep it under wraps. Plenty of people were after the Rainstorm Blossom Needle. Someone might try to harm you.”

“We have plenty of skilled fighters in the family. What could possibly happen?”

Dan Seolyeong handed the Rainstorm Blossom Needle back to Tang Mujin and began to walk slowly.

Tang Mujin’s eyes fell on the Tang family estate’s walls. They were not only sturdier than before but also enclosed a much larger area.

It seemed they had expanded by demolishing some of the surrounding houses and incorporating the land.

A few years ago, the Tang family clinic had been a small annex next to the Qingcheng Sect’s Chengdu branch. Now, it was larger than the branch itself—a complete reversal.

“By the way, what happened to the house?”

Expanding the estate to this extent would have required a significant amount of money.

While it wouldn’t have been difficult with the funds Tang Mujin brought back, the expansion had been completed before his return.

Dan Seolyeong remained confident.

“Luck came our way, and I seized the opportunity. Follow me.”

She led Tang Mujin to the back of the estate.

In the once-empty backyard, a considerable number of people were practicing martial arts. Many faces were unfamiliar to Tang Mujin.

However, he recognized several individuals among them—martial artists who had escaped with him from the Demonic Cult, each teaching groups of three to five students.

“That man was the start of it all.”

Dan Seolyeong pointed to a man who used to weave straw and make sandals next door to Sam Anbul.

“Not long after you left, he took on a disciple. He said he needed the extra income.”

“Smart move.”

Just as physicians leave behind medical texts before they die, martial artists have a desire to pass on their skills to disciples. The martial artists who settled in Chengdu after escaping the Demonic Cult were no different.

“When he had just one disciple, it was fine. But when he took on a second and a third, his yard became too small for training. So he came to me, asking if they could use the Tang family clinic’s yard.”

“And you agreed.”

“Yes. He offered a portion of the income from his disciples, so I accepted.”

It seemed the funds for expanding the estate and building new walls came from that money.

The income from one or two disciples wouldn’t be much. But seeing the number of people training in the backyard, Tang Mujin realized it might be more substantial than he thought.

“When he reached five disciples, word got out. Rumors spread that if you went near the Tang family clinic, you could become a disciple of a great master. People flocked here, and other martial artists began taking on disciples too. Even students from smaller sects started coming over, causing some of those sects to collapse.”

The heads of small sects are usually first-rate martial artists. The leaders of mid-sized sects are typically at the peak of first-rate, on the verge of breaking through to the next level.

In such a landscape, the Qingcheng Sect’s Chengdu branch maintained its hold on the city for two main reasons.

First, the Qingcheng Sect’s martial arts were exceptional. Second, the martial artists sent from the main sect to lead the branch were all top-tier experts.

However, even in the Qingcheng Sect, secular disciples learn martial arts from Jin Song, a first-rate martial artist, not from the branch leader, Hwang Ryeongja, who is a top-tier expert. The situation is similar in mid-sized sects with top-tier leaders.

In this context, when top-tier experts began accepting disciples directly, the status quo couldn’t continue. It was only natural for people to flock to the Tang family estate.

The Qingcheng Sect might survive by attracting those who value its name, but other small and mid-sized sects lost their competitive edge entirely.

They couldn’t even protest. Any confrontation could lead to death, as disputes among martial artists often end in violence, and the Tang family estate was teeming with top-tier experts.

Tang Mujin smiled wryly.

“I feel a bit sorry for the other sect leaders.”

“But what can we do? We can’t tell the masters not to take disciples or to send away the ones they already have.”

“True enough.”

Those seeking to learn martial arts and those teaching them both benefit.

But the one who benefits most is the owner of the yard they use.

Tang Mujin stood a little apart, watching as each master taught their disciples.

Dan Seolyeong seemed unconcerned, but Tang Mujin found the scene quite unusual.

Martial artists typically go to great lengths to keep their skills hidden. It’s not uncommon for fights to break out over someone secretly watching their training.

Yet these people were different.

Unlike those who remained at the heart of the demonic cult, worshipping pure strength, these people saw martial arts not as an end, but as a means.

A means to survive, a means to protect the cult from external threats.

Thus, they didn’t obsess over the purity of martial arts, nor did they adopt a secretive attitude to conceal their skills.

Many of the martial arts displayed here were influenced by the cult’s protective techniques, making this even more apparent.

Their martial arts appeared diverse on the surface, yet Tang Mujin realized that they were both similar and different, different yet alike. It was this commonality that allowed them to share their skills openly.

Hong Geolge, who had approached unnoticed, spoke up.

“Even Namgung Myung found this scene amusing. Seems like you do too, huh?”

“Namgung Myung?”

“You know what kind of guy he is.”

What would it mean to show countless martial arts to someone who habitually steals them?

The one who would gain the most from the Tang family would undoubtedly be Namgung Myung.

“If time passes like this, their martial arts might evolve like the Kunlun Sect’s.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“It’s a story.”

Hong Geolge recalled a tale his master, Daepunggae Paengcheon, had told him.

Though now a member of the Beggars’ Sect, Daepunggae was once a Taoist of the Kunlun Sect. Thanks to him, Hong Geolge knew quite a bit about the Kunlun Sect.

Unlike other sects, the history of the Kunlun Sect is unique.

While other sects were founded under extraordinary leaders, the Kunlun Sect had no single founder. Or perhaps it had dozens, even hundreds.

In ancient times, many Taoists resided on the numerous peaks of Kunlun. Each established a small temple on their peak, dedicating themselves to their own practices.

Over time, they began to mingle and learn from each other. Even now, the Kunlun Sect is more of a vast collective than a single sect.

Just as the Kunlun Sect eventually developed the Taiqing Sword and Yunlong Eight Forms through the blending of many, perhaps one day, within the walls of the Tang family, their unique martial arts will also take root.

If people wish to stay within these walls, and if these walls stand strong for a long time, it will surely happen.

Hong Geolge thought this as he glanced at Tang Mujin.

He didn’t seem particularly reliable.

Tang Mujin returned to the annex and quietly opened the door.

His daughter, Tang Young, who had grown so much in a year, was still asleep, oblivious to the world. Tang Mujin gazed at her face for a long time before quietly closing the door and stepping back.

‘Will she even recognize me?’

He thought, surely not—yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that she wouldn’t.

She was only two years old, and he’d been away for a year. It would be stranger if she did recognize him.

‘Still, it would be nice if she did.’

With a slightly dejected step, Tang Mujin wandered around before heading to the medicine storage behind the clinic.

It was a place filled with memories, where he used to brew herbal concoctions all day, and where he first encountered the strange.

He expected the place to be empty, but to his surprise, two people were there: Tang Jesun and Mok Wana.

The herbal pot, which should have been over the fire, was set aside, and Tang Jesun was poking the fire with kindling. Inside the fire, he could glimpse taro and some unidentifiable fruits.

”…What are you doing?”

Tang Mujin asked, startling the two, who looked up in surprise.

Mok Wana’s eyes sparkled upon seeing Tang Mujin.