Chapter 177

Chapter 177
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**Chapter 177: The Tang Clan’s Path**

The Peak realm is a state defined by bringing about change through qi.
A sword master manifesting their sword aura, a sound master reshaping reality with their voice, a poison master infusing their qi into venom—these are its hallmarks.
It earns the name “Peak” because practitioners have reached the very summit of mastery over qi.
What, then, of the Superlative realm?
The answer is straightforward.
It is the state of bringing about change through the power of the mind.
It is the moment when humanity, standing between heaven and earth, asserts its own existence before the cosmos itself.
In truth, it is a profound and curious thing.
The internal energy cultivated by any martial artist is, at its core, the qi of the natural world.
Thus, using qi to alter the ways of heaven and earth is nothing extraordinary—it is merely moving in harmony with the great flow of all things.
But how can the spirit of a single human being leave its mark upon the vast fabric of the universe?
The answer lies in the Dao.
This is the very distinction that elevates martial arts to the level of divine arts.

“Poison and hidden weapons are, by their very nature, tools devised to kill one’s enemies. It follows that our clan’s martial practices have never held a Dao.”
Silence filled the clan leader’s chambers, heavy and unbroken.

The conversation had begun with those quiet words, spoken by the clan leader to the young heir.
“But Clan Leader—are swords and blades not the same? They too are weapons forged to take life.”
“You speak rightly. So tell me—where do you believe the difference lies?”
“Even the path of the thief has its own Dao. If our clan’s arts lack one, could it simply be that our history is too short to have nurtured it?”
Tang Jun, having turned the matter over thoroughly in his mind, offered his reasoning, and Tang Xing smiled with genuine approval.

“Precisely so. The Nine Great Sects and Five Great Clans all claim that poison and hidden weapons are incapable of possessing a Dao, and so they say our practices are forever limited. But that is not the true reason. We inherited an incomplete body of martial knowledge, and in the brief span of our clan’s existence, we never had the chance to refine it to perfection. That is why the Tang Clan has never known a Dao.”

Yet the young master of the Baek Clan had already proven that the Tang Clan could tread its own path and forge a Dao of its very own.
“Yeon-a’s enlightenment will serve as the foundation upon which we build every aspect of our poison arts. At long last, we can establish a genuine martial philosophy for our craft—one that goes far beyond merely mixing and deploying venoms.”

Until this moment, what had the Tang Clan’s poison arts truly been? No more than preparing toxins with skill and dispersing them with precision.
In short, they were techniques of handling venom, and no matter how finely honed, they remained bound by rigid limits—never true martial arts capable of ascending to higher realms through the Dao and personal enlightenment.
This was also the reason Tang Jun, the young clan leader, had chosen to focus his training on hidden weapons rather than poison mastery.
“To be sure, there have been elders in times past who achieved enlightenment in the ways of qi-infused poison. But the brilliance of one individual can never serve as the enduring foundation of an entire clan.”

What neither Tang Xing nor Tang Jun knew was that this very concern had weighed heavily upon the regressor, Baek Yang-hui.
It was precisely why he saw Baek Heon-so as the clan’s future leader.
“Brother Hui has achieved something truly monumental. From now on, we will be able to produce Peak realm poison masters with steady, reliable consistency.”
“Gather enough grains of sand, and you may build a taller castle. In every sense, we have drawn far closer to the aspiration our clan has cherished for generations.”

The mention of that shared dream cast a shadow over both their faces.
“Even so… the road ahead remains steep.”
“Indeed. It has grown easier to travel, but the path is still fraught with peril.”

The Tang Clan’s greatest ambition: to create a divine art capable of reaching the Superlative realm.
It seemed an almost laughable goal. They had never produced even a single master of the Superlative realm—how could they hope to craft an art that would lead there?
It was as though one sought to draw a map of a mountain without ever having set foot upon its slopes.
This was why Baek Yang-hui had become so vital to their hopes.
His recent accomplishment was like sketching that very map while blindfolded, and succeeding.
The revelation of innate qi—for the Tang Clan, it was as though a veil had been lifted, revealing what had always been hidden.

“Jun-a. We must learn all we can about Baek Yang-hui.”
He had offered his help freely, as a friend, asking nothing in return.
But a clan leader cannot take such declarations entirely at face value.
No matter how sincere they may be, they must be examined from every angle.
That is the duty of those who lead.
“We owe Baek Gongzi a profound debt. The finest repayment we can offer is to grant what his heart desires. So tell me—everything you know of him.”

“Brother Hui is… truly a man of exceptional character. He possesses extraordinary martial talent, matched only by the depth of his insight, and every other gift he holds is equally remarkable.”
Yet what had impressed Tang Jun more than anything else was something deeper still.
“I stake my position as the young leader of the Tang Clan upon this: Brother Hui has the heart of a true hero. His sense of righteousness… is rooted in protection.”

Looking back, it was clear to see. His ways were so unusual that they might well be called strange, and no one would have been surprised.
But beneath every oddity lay a steadfast heart, dedicated to shielding and safeguarding others.
“I believe you. I am convinced this young man is more than worthy of standing as an ally to the Tang Clan.”
“I believe so too, exactly—haha.”
“Good. Are there any other quirks or traits you have observed?”

Tang Jun paused to gather his thoughts before answering.
“It is only a feeling, but he seems strangely fond of our clan. Toward me in particular—he treats me differently than he does others.”
He had heard the story of their very first meeting from Blood Lord Gu-ak.
A youth, speaking casually to a man twenty years his senior and calling him ‘Gu hyung’—it had left the older man utterly stunned.
Yang-hui had never been one to abide by conventional rules of politeness.
And yet…
“We speak in familiar, easy terms, and still he shows me unwavering respect. Not merely because I am the young leader—something deeper, a quiet reverence that I cannot fully explain.”

Reflecting upon it, Yang-hui had always been gentle and forbearing with him. According to Chui-dal, it was only in Tang Jun’s company that he ever showed a softer side.
Tang Jun did not know the reason, but he was deeply grateful.
“In other words, even if you were to behave somewhat boldly, Baek Gongzi would overlook it?”
“It would seem so, but…” Tang Jun looked uneasy. There was a glint in Tang Xing’s eyes that did not bode well.

“We owe him a debt, and we shall repay it. But apart from that… there is a task for you to undertake.”
“What sort of task?”
“He speaks of friendship. But family is a bond far dearer than any friendship.”
“You speak of a betrothal? But… to be honest, I doubt such a plan could succeed.”
“Why do you say that?”

Tang Jun spoke then of Zhuge Seol-ha—of beauty beyond what mortal words could describe, of an allure so powerful it seemed to transcend humanity itself, and of the deep bond between master and disciple.
“A formidable rival, indeed. Our clan has many fair and capable daughters. If one should not suffice, what of two? Or three? I would arrange for him to take three wives and four concubines if that is what it takes.”
“Even so, I do not believe it will work. Brother Hui is not the sort of man who chases after beauty—far from it. And such a plan would only cause him distress…”

“Jun-a.” Tang Xing cut him off, his tone grave. “This is for the good of the clan. You will do this, will you not?”

The mention of the clan steadied Tang Jun’s resolve. It was their long-held custom: once the young heir came of age, the sitting clan leader would withdraw into lifelong seclusion, devoting the rest of his days to advancing and refining the clan’s martial arts.
Decades, spent in confinement as strict as any prisoner’s.
It followed, then, that the leaders of the Tang Clan—both the outgoing and the incoming—were always those who loved their people most deeply.
“For the clan. Very well. I shall see it done. I am sorry, Brother Hui… but this is for the clan.”
“Yes. For the Tang Clan.”
“I will make Brother Hui a part of our family, no matter what it takes!”

And so the Tang Clan’s spirited, all-out campaign to secure a marriage alliance began.

◇◇◇◆◇◇◇

Time passed, and in that span, twenty members of the Tang Clan were transformed—forged into Poison Immortals, immune to the effects of a hundred different venoms.
In exchange, Yang-hui found himself facing relentless, unremitting advances from all sides.
Their method was always the same: an all-out, full-hearted rush.

“Baek Gongzi! We have prime cuts of beef at the Tang inn today! My cooking rivals the finest chefs in all of Sichuan—will you not give me the chance to prepare a meal for you?”
“My apologies. I have pressing business—I must be going.”
He would decline and slip away, only for another woman to step forward and link her arm through his.
“Baek Gongzi! It is so warm out—would you care for something cool to drink at the tavern?”
“I regret that I cannot hold my liquor.”
He would gently extricate himself and hurry on, and yet another would appear before him.
“Baek Gongzi!”
“Busy. Full. Not in need of company. I must circulate my qi—solo training. What else? Oh, yes—”
“I need your help researching countermeasures for the Sword Pavilion’s poisons.”
“That is tempting… but no. I shall work through Brother Tang.”
“Then he will simply send for me, will he not?”
“Exactly. Brother Tang is the root of all this. Elder Tang Yang… also Tang Clan.”

He shook his head. Was there truly no escape?
“In any case, I must take my leave.”
“Ah, Gongzi! Gongzi!”

Fleeing without pause, he could not help but sigh.
He must have turned them away a hundred times by now.
Yet the women of the Tang Clan were undaunted warriors, refusing to surrender no matter how many times they were turned back.
‘At this point… should they not give up?’
Once, he had tried being direct, speaking coldly in the hope that it would drive one away.
“Listen to me: I have no romantic interest in you whatsoever. Whether you are of the clan or not—have you no pride?”
To cling to someone who does not want you brings deep hurt to a woman’s heart. Surely such words would send her away…

“Pride? I have none to spare.”
It was utterly futile.
“For the clan… I would offer myself as readily as a wisp of straw.”
Suddenly he felt as though he were the one exerting pressure, the one making her feel guilty.
“And besides—you do not dislike me, do you?”
“I beg your pardon?”
She looked him over as though he were a prize possession.
“You are handsome.”
He could not argue with that.
“Young and strong.”
Simply true.
“Possessed of such extraordinary talent?”
Where his gifts were concerned, he would have pouted if anyone had failed to call him the finest in the world.
“Win your heart, and you are set for life.”
“…That is true.”

“Is it not? So just once—”
“I am truly sorry.”
He darted into his room and slammed the door shut.
“Gongzi! Gongzi! Just give me one chance!”
He pressed his hands over his ears.
‘Is this truly right…?’
To cement the pact between our houses, I must give more of myself. But if it is already this difficult… what will it become? I may never be free of the Tang Clan.

He let out a long breath. “It feels as though I am repaying kindness with burden. Am I right, Chui-dal?”
Chui-dal, sitting beside him, retorted at once.
“Do not complain when you have every comfort. It makes me want to strike you.”
“You little scamp?”

For the record, Chui-dal shared his room for one simple reason: they had been sharing quarters lately.
Baek Heon-so, from the other side of the room, joined in.
Baek Heon-so shared the room too, for the same reason.
The youngest had complained that he was always left out, so now all three were crammed into the same space.
‘If not for the Tang Clan…’
The Tang had given their group an entire wing of the residence to use. There were more than enough rooms for everyone.
So why share? The reason was simple: they were expecting nocturnal visitors—charming young women bearing the surname Tang.
‘One moment of weakness, and it is all over. I shall become a son-in-law bound for life. I must remain vigilant.’

He made up his mind. “That settles it. We shall leave the Tang Clan grounds for a while.”
“Understood, hyungnim. Where are we going?”
“Eh? Leave? The food has been excellent lately…”
His two companions offered very different reactions.
Yang-hui gave Chui-dal a light tap on the shoulder and continued.
“A truly great strategist accomplishes two things with a single effort.”
He was not journeying all the way to distant Sichuan merely for the Tang Clan’s sake. Sichuan held opportunities of its own.
“Has hyungnim finally decided to become a master strategist?”
“Another plan! This is exciting!”
“You rascals—just follow me. Let us be off.”

Sichuan. Remote even within the Central Plains, long overlooked, yet overflowing with rare goods and rich produce. A bustling hub where wares from Yunnan, the Southern Man tribes, and the Western Regions converged before spreading further. And the land itself was bountiful, rich in resources.
Wealth lay everywhere—strike at the right moment, and one might amass a fortune.
‘It is time for the Baek Book Merchant Group to expand beyond Gangseo. And to strengthen our holdings closer to home as well.’
A singular opportunity had presented itself.
‘Now… shall we become patrons to the three greatest merchant magnates in the realm?’