Chapter 191

Chapter 191
**Chapter 191: Spiritual Herbs and Ambitions**

Following the conclusion of their bandit-suppression campaign, the group journeyed back toward the Tang Clan lands.

“Ehehe—just look at all of this!”

“Hey, how much longer are you going to keep giggling like that?”

Chui-dal, who enjoyed teasing his companions, suddenly felt a flicker of confusion. That voice… it sounded different than usual?

He turned his head and saw Dang Gun grinning and chuckling to himself, completely unable to contain his delight.

“Ehehe! Ehehehehe!”

Normally so poised, dignified, and gentlemanly, seeing him carry on like this was… well… it was simply impossible not to find amusing. But then again, it would take a heart of stone to keep a straight face with such a windfall.

To be precise, it was not a fortune in gold and silver they had found—though it was worth far more—it was a vast expanse of spiritual herbs.

‘If even the steady Young Clan Leader Dang is this giddy, why is our friend over there so quiet?’

Chui-dal turned the other way and understood at once. Baek Yang-hui sat with his eyes half-lidded, wearing a serene, almost beatific smile that seemed to radiate peace.

‘That expression… I’ve seen it before. Oh right! Chief Han had exactly the same look.’

The familiarity of it struck him so sharply that Chui-dal cried out in alarm.

“Friend! No—don’t you dare go and achieve enlightenment right now!”

Baek Yang-hui snapped back to his senses as if waking from a deep trance.

“Whoa—thank you, Chui-dal. I really was about to drift off there.”

Joy could indeed be deadly; it was said that one could ascend straight to the immortal realm from overwhelming bliss alone, and he had nearly done exactly that.

“…Ehehehehehe!”

Spiritual herbs—and not just a few sprigs here and there, but an entire field of them. While these were not legendary treasures like the Millennium Snow Ginseng that could bestow decades of cultivation in a single dose, a field was still a field—and this one was enormous. Even the preliminary count they had made was staggering enough that… that…

“Ah! There I went again, nearly lost to rapture.”

At this rate, he really might enter nirvana or float away. He needed to talk himself down, find some gloomy perspective…

‘Think sober, discouraging thoughts… think sober…’

“Truth be told,” he said firmly, “these are only mid-grade spiritual herbs at best—ten years of steady cultivation from each, if we are generous. Compared to truly potent spiritual medicines, they are scarcely better than weeds. Weeds, I tell you. Worse, more than half are not even fully mature. And besides—we could never sell them anyway.”

His reasoning was sound until that last puzzling line. Chui-dal tilted his head.

“Hmm? Why couldn’t we sell them?”

“Because we are going to eat every last one! How could we ever sell them?”

The Baek Clan had already poured half of all its accumulated wealth into acquiring spiritual herbs. To expand as rapidly as they hoped, reinvestting every resource they possessed would barely suffice—yet it was a sacrifice that simply had to be made. The reason was plain: the Baek Clan lacked high-ranking masters. It was the universal weakness of newly risen clans.

Regardless of innate talent, true mastery demanded years of diligent cultivation to amass internal energy, and clans without generations of heritage simply could not produce enough experts quickly enough.

“We will feed these to every clansman we have—stuff them until they are fit to burst! As we agreed: the Baek Clan takes seven shares, and the Tang Clan three?”

“Perfect! Three shares is more than generous—we are most grateful!”

It had been Won-u who first discovered the herb field; strictly speaking, the Tang Clan had no prior claim whatsoever. The field itself lay deep within Sword Pavilion territory, thousands of li away from the Baek Clan stronghold, and worse—the Baek Clan possessed no skilled alchemists to refine raw herbs into potent medicinal pills. So an arrangement had been struck: the Tang Clan would safeguard the field, harvest the herbs season by season, process them into pills, and ship the finished medicine to the Baek Clan. In exchange, they would keep three-tenths of the yield.

‘This is an absolute bargain,’ Baek Yang-hui thought. No matter how much the Tang Clan took, the savings in supplying his own people with cultivation resources would accelerate the Baek Clan’s growth beyond measure. Reinvesting every gain would double their pace of advancement.

He fell quiet.

“Hui bro? Something on your mind?”

“Nothing at all. Just… something from long ago crossed my thoughts.”

A memory from his former life had surfaced unbidden. He saw his father, then serving as clan head, taking humble work as an escort guard to make ends meet. On hard days, he would sit the young, sensible Yang-hui beside him and find quiet comfort in simple dishes and rough cups of baekju.

‘Hui-ya,’ he had said, ‘this father’s dearest wish is that our Baek Clan will reclaim its standing and once more rise to rule over Gangseo Province.’

‘Father… before we even know it… your dream is coming true.’

A truly great clan was one acknowledged and respected across the world—one that commanded awe wherever its name was spoken. They were not quite there yet, but they possessed every necessary foundation. All that remained was to let their reputation spread far and wide.

Three years—that was his deadline. By the time he turned thirty, the Baek Clan would stand as a power beyond question. It was not merely a plan; it was inevitable.

If that came to pass… his thoughts drifted further back, to the bitter end of that former life.

‘Forgive me, Best Sword Among Wanderers. Your talent is far too dangerous to leave unchecked.’

“Namgung…”

“Huh? Why call the Namgung Clan all of a sudden?”

“Nothing—just speaking aloud to myself.”

The Great Namgung Clan—holders of the title of World’s Mightiest Clan. From this day forward, the Baek Clan would run all the harder, shooting toward them like arrows loosed to strike true. For now, the Namgung Clan had not yet solidified their claim to absolute supremacy, which made their climb all the easier.

‘I wonder what has become of Namgung Cheonhu.’

Ideally, she would not simply vanish into obscurity. So long as she remained a rival to Namgung Cheon-yeong, the friction within the Namgung Clan could only benefit the Baek Clan.

—

“Clan Head… what is to become of Namgung Cheonhu?”

Namgung Cheonhu opened her eyes, which had been closed in meditation. She had heard her name spoken—an instinctive reaction.

“Namgung Cheonhu is a criminal who has stained the Namgung Clan’s honor. She will face full justice for her crimes.”

Not ‘Young Clan Head.’ Not ‘Honored Heir.’ Only ‘Namgung Cheonhu.’ Ordinarily, such disrespect would have drawn a bitter smile, but her supply of those had long since run dry.

‘Clan Head… you are formidable,’ she thought. Criminal or not, to strip her of all title and standing was calculated humiliation. No member of the Heavenly Sword Squadron was so ignorant as to speak without reason—such studied disregard could only come by direct order.

‘I have been cast aside completely. You are decisive, Clan Head—admirably ruthless, disowning even your own kin.’

Admirable, yes—but why? What end did such cruelty serve?

‘I see now… you mean to tie me to the opposing faction of elders. I am not merely cast out—I am being framed as a traitor to divide the clan.’

It was laughable. To seize absolute power, one had to paint the world in ink of suspicion and brushstrokes of betrayal. There was no place left for her anymore. Beyond that emptiness lay only stillness.

Then a voice spoke inside her mind.

—*Who dares cast you aside?*

She shook her head slowly. It was only a demon whispering within, seeking to turn her bitterness to its own ends.

—*Is there anything wrong with claiming what is yours? You are the rightful heir. What you know to be just is the truth.*

She lifted her chin sharply. “Am I truly in the wrong?”

—*Not in the slightest. You have done nothing shameful. You were born to this station, strove to meet every expectation, and grew into someone worthy.*

She had never asked to be born into this. Never chosen him as her father. Yet she had obeyed his will her entire life—undeniably, the sole legitimate heir.

—*That is who you are. And do they dare take it from you?*

—*Everything is yours by right.*

“Yes… it is mine. The Namgung Clan belongs to me.”

Her thoughts cleared like a storm breaking. “Show yourself!”

—*Oh my.*

“Speak plainly, or I will not heed you.”

—*Aha… very well then. I have come to serve you, Young Master.*

Thick ropes binding her limbs, iron bars sealing the cell, heavy planks barricading every opening—all dissolved in an instant. Where restraints had been lay only splinters, and blood, and still more blood.

“Surprised?”

The voice was identical to the one that had spoken within her, yet it issued from a figure standing before her—seductive, alluring, impossible to resist. Her skin was pale as alabaster; everything else about her was crimson. A woman of unearthly beauty spoke softly.

“You seized the Blood God Blood Sword, did you not? You have grown strong indeed.”

“The Blood God Blood Sword… you speak of that accursed blade.”

“That is the very one. The blood that awakened within you proved you were worthy all along. You see? You were right.”

No words had ever sounded so true. Namgung Cheonhu struggled to steady herself. “Worthy… in what way?”

The red-and-white figure drifted close, wrapping around her like a silken shroud. A sweet fragrance filled the air—until one breathed deeply and recognized it for what it was: the scent of fresh blood.

“Worthy to wield power as it was meant to be wielded. Come with me, child.”

“And what would change if I did?”

“Whatever the path, you shall claim what is yours—and it shall be yours in truth.”

“I accept.”

The woman smiled, sharp and knowing as a fox. “I expected hesitation—confusion, doubt, second thoughts. You disappoint me.”

“Do you make a habit of ensnaring people? Forgive me for spoiling your sport.”

“It matters not. Your resolve only makes this sweeter.” She ran a scarlet tongue over lips stained red. “I am the Blood Blood Maiden. I have surrendered all to Him—and yet this flesh still craves companionship. Since I have taken a liking to you, I intend to make you mine. There is no turning back now.”

“That will not be necessary. As you said—I already possess what I am entitled to.”

The sun sank low, stretching shadows until all the world seemed dyed in deepest red.

“I will become Clan Head of the Namgung Clan. Nothing shall stop me.”

A wind like a tide of blood swept over everything.

—

Since Baek Yang-hui had arrived as an envoy at the Tang Clan, life had been one marvel after another—immunity to all poisons, ghostly swiftness in combat, the Thousand Blossom Flower Technique, and more wonders by the day. Now, however, the clan stirred with excitement of a different sort.

“The Master of the Jin Clan Manor approaches!”

‘Approaches’ did not do the occasion justice. Jin Yeong-gil—one of the Three Great Tycoons of the World—was a guest of such standing that even the proud Tang Clan received him with full honors. The wealth under his management alone outstripped the Tang Clan’s entire annual revenue.

‘A month since the bandit suppression… he has taken time to weigh his options carefully.’

Receiving such an honored guest required the personal attendance of the Clan Head. Baek Yang-hui was summoned to meet Jin Yeong-gil after roughly two hours had passed.

“Hui bro—Lord Jin wishes a word with you.”

That the Young Clan Head himself came to guide him rather than sending a servant spoke volumes. The Tang Clan had few allies beyond the martial sects of Sichuan; someone of Jin Yeong-gil’s influence was invaluable.

“I shall take my leave then,” Dang Gun offered.

“Dang Gun—pray remain,” Baek Yang-hui invited. Chui-dal and Baek Heon-so were already seated within.

“Is that proper?” Dang Gun asked politely, though his pleasure was evident.

“The kitchen has outdone itself,” he remarked over tea. “These dumpling wrappers are so fine one can see straight through to the filling!”

“Ah—glad they meet with your approval.” It was no special favor; the Tang Clan’s partnership was essential regardless.

“So, Lord Jin… what brings you to us?”

Jin Yeong-gil laughed easily. “The man who sees profit in every venture asks what I seek? How amusing.” Then his tone turned sharp. “Tell me—when you drove your blade into the river and quelled a hundred bandits in a single stroke… was that meant for my eyes?”

“Precisely.” It had been a calculated display—he had needed to earn trust, and this had been the clearest way to show his hand.

Jin Yeong-gil nodded slowly. “Good.”

“Pardon?” Baek Yang-hui had not expected such brevity.

“River management. The Yangtze Water Alliance. Zhao Yun. Grain from Gangseo and Gangnan. The trade in packaged goods and woven cloth—these are the foundation of all true wealth in the realm. Shall we wager on what comes next?”

‘That is why I admire him,’ Baek Yang-hui thought. Chui-dal and Baek Heon-so, however, exchanged blank looks.

“Should we step outside?” Chui-dal whispered. “I haven’t the faintest idea what they’re on about.”

“Friend… care to explain?”

“With pleasure,” Baek Yang-hui smiled. “Where to begin? Eight years ago now—before the ten-year pact between our clans was even struck…”