The Eldest Daughter of the Tang Clan of Sichuan Protects the Family

Part 1

Chapter 25. Private Meeting

Zhuge In-hwi smiled.

It seemed that person was trying to use this incident to expand the Tang Clan's influence.

By driving a wedge between the Anhui branch and the headquarters, they could block the reappointment of the Alliance Leader and tarnish the reputation of Namgung An, who was considered a candidate for the position.

Wasn't Tang Ji-ha also someone often mentioned as a candidate for Alliance Leader?

He didn't know whose idea it was, but he had no intention of becoming a puppet within such a petty scheme.

The Hall Lord, who had intended to hold Namgung accountable through regulations, changed his mind.

Zhuge In-hwi comforted Namgung Jin in a warm voice.

"You must be busy. Preparing the funeral must be difficult as well."

"It's nothing."

"Then, may we retrieve the corpses? There are many Alliance members who wish to confirm the Blood Sect's resurgence, so it may be less burdensome for Namgung if the headquarters delivers the news directly."

"Yes. Let's do that."

He had already assumed they would retrieve the corpses as soon as they arrived.

He could only hope the coroner had erased traces of poison and rewritten the corpse examination report. Namgung Jin smiled, still thinking of ways to buy even a little more time.

"There wasn't any notable result, but I'll bring the one who conducted the interrogation and show you the records."

At those words, Zhuge In-hwi gave a smile whose meaning was unclear. After a brief thought, he nodded.

"Yes. Please do. I was curious anyway, so this is good."

***

The Anhui branch was, in effect, like an outer court of Namgung.

Because it served as Namgung's external face, some of the household's most distinguished personnel were selected for it. This could be seen from the fact that the Young Lord, whom the Namgung retainers took great pride in, had been appointed as branch leader at such a young age.

Those who had proven their abilities at the Anhui branch were again recommended and dispatched to the main headquarters of the Murim Alliance.

Namgung Cheong-hae was a martial artist affiliated with the headquarters' Four Directions Hall.

But now, Namgung Cheong-hae, their pride, had returned as a corpse, and the Namgung Clan was thrown into great shock.

"My husband's letters stopped coming months ago, but no, no, it can't be—ah!"

"Mother!"

A boy not yet of age supported his collapsed mother.

"Wh-what is going on?! How did Father end up like this...?"

The family of Namgung Cheong-hae asked, but those who had escorted the body could give no answers. They only hung their heads like criminals.

Namgung Cheong-hae's son cried out.

"Why won't you say anything?! We're asking what happened!!"

Namgung Mun-seon bit his lip.

Cheong-hae was a nephew he cherished deeply. It pained him that he hadn't been able to see the boy off properly and had left him waiting in the cold. Now, seeing the boy's children suffering as if their world had ended—he felt more than guilt, it tore his heart apart.

He closed his burning eyes and forced himself to answer in a calm voice.

"The Young Lord will explain soon."

"Uhh... why is the Young Lord..."

The words of caution stuck in his throat, unable to come out.

At this moment, sorrow outweighed loyalty.

Those standing behind Namgung Mun-seon felt the same. How could one offer comfort in a time like this? As members of the clan, they had no words to offer beyond silence.

Namgung Mun-seon slowly opened his eyes and looked down at Cheong-hae's cold, frozen body.

The image of the young swordsman preparing to shoulder Namgung's future flickered before his eyes.

Namgung Mun-seon raised his head and looked toward the distant inner courtyard.

The Young Lord, summoned to the Clan Head's residence, must be in a private meeting with the Clan Head by now.

The one who would suffer the most was not himself, but another nephew, who now had to take responsibility for all these failures.

***

Namgung Jin returned to the main family residence with resolve. He was ready to accept whatever punishment awaited him. So when the Clan Head summoned him to the Clan Head's residence, the moment he arrived, he thought it only natural.

However, the place he was summoned to didn't make sense.

The Clan Head's residence.

The deepest part of the inner courtyard.

Despite the countless pavilions available, the Clan Head had deliberately called Namgung Jin to his private study. No—he only called it a study because there was no other name for it, but even that felt inadequate.

Unlike a study that doubled as an office, this room was located on the second floor of a pavilion by the pond. It was a small room the Clan Head occasionally used to nap or quietly read. Modest, like a small side room by the main gate, meant for servants.

Creak.

The wooden stairs groaned, as if attesting to the years they had endured.

Namgung Jin grew tense.

He had entered the Clan Head's residence countless times, but this was his first time coming to this pavilion.

What's more, the surroundings had been cleared, and Namgung Jin had to open the door himself.

It felt like he was a criminal swinging the blade upon his own neck.

Click.

The room was so small that as soon as he opened the door, the Clan Head's back came into view.

The Clan Head was gazing out at the pond beyond the window.

Namgung Jin drew back the gaze he had cast far ahead. Then he saw the sword placed on the window frame, the sunlit floor, a small bed just big enough for one man to lie on, and a few books.

Simple and peaceful.

It was not a place suited to receiving guests. Even less so for interrogating someone about their crimes.

Unable to guess why he had been called here, he stood in tense silence until a warm voice spoke.

"Jin."

The Clan Head called him not by title, but by name.

When no answer came, the Clan Head turned his body.

Seeing the stiff figure of the Young Lord, he gave a faint smile. His eyes swept over the modest room before he spoke.

"I wasn't sure whether to serve you tea or alcohol, so I prepared nothing. I hope you understand."

Joking like that, the Clan Head felt like a different person. In all their private meetings, he had never spoken more than a few words.

And his odd behavior continued.

Slide.

The Clan Head pushed aside the sword on the window frame and sat on that spot.

Patting the empty space beside him, he said,

"As you can see, there's nowhere else to sit. Come sit over here."

"How could I possibly sit in the same place as the Clan Head?"

The Clan Head spoke in a cold voice.

"Then are you telling me I should look up at you?"

Without a moment's hesitation, Namgung Jin dropped to his knees.

Seeing the Young Lord seated on the floor, the Clan Head burst into laughter.

He no longer insisted that Jin sit beside him. Instead, he leaned back and rested against the window.

Savoring the remnants of his laughter, he murmured,

"When I had my private meeting with the former Clan Head in this very place, I sat right there. Even in this, you resemble me."

Just as it seemed a conversation was about to begin, the Clan Head fell silent for a long time.

The clear sound of water flowed from the pond outside.

Soaked in that peaceful feeling, Namgung An spoke in a calm voice.

"When I was the Young Lord, I once made a grave mistake. The former Clan Head summoned me to this place."

Namgung An gestured toward the floor with a small tilt of his chin, still smiling faintly.

"He placed a teacup and a wine cup there and told me to choose what to drink. I was so shocked, thinking he meant for me to take my own life. I had certainly made a mistake, but it wasn't a crime worthy of death, so why would he do that? I felt so wronged, I nearly lashed out in defiance."

As he traced back through an old memory, he let out a breath laced with hollow laughter.

"But that wasn't it."

Silence settled once more.

The sound of splashing water from the pond, as if the carp were fighting, felt loud.

Over that tranquil stillness, Namgung An layered his voice.

"Jin-ah, do you know what your mistake was?"

That low voice pressed heavily upon Namgung Jin's heart.

Namgung Jin remained silent.

He could list every one of his wrongdoings in detail, but it didn't seem like that was the answer the Clan Head was looking for.

Namgung An waited for the Young Lord's reply, then took a letter from inside his robes.

Seeing it, Namgung Jin's brow subtly furrowed.

Letters appeared on the unfolded Xuan paper.

Though it was long enough to require both arms outstretched to read, the spacing between the characters was perfectly uniform, each stroke written with care as if drawn like art.

A calligraphic script like a painting.

It was as if a page had been torn from the Chunhua Ge Tie, a book compiled by Emperor Taizong of the Song Dynasty, containing writings of famous calligraphers of past generations.

It was hard to believe such craftsmanship came from a sixteen-year-old writing to his father.

Namgung Jin tried to focus on the Clan Head's words.

In the Namgung Clan, the only one whose handwriting could be held up like a name card was his half-brother.

"It wasn't the Anhui Branch's duty to receive Cheong-hae. I personally sent him to Dabeishan Mountains."

Dabeishan Mountains were the mountain range one had to pass when returning from the Murim Alliance headquarters in Hubei to the Namgung clan.

For Namgung Cheong-hae—skilled enough to be dispatched to the headquarters—it wasn't a dangerous path.

But Namgung An had sent Cheong-hae there to give his illegitimate child a chance.

To make an impression on Cheong-hae and establish a foundation to advance to the headquarters.

He had grown greedy, thinking the child was clever and showed promise as a martial artist—but it had been a mistake.

The Clan Head's gaze darkened as he looked down at the letter.

That gentle demeanor, covering sharp steel beneath, marked someone dangerous to be let loose.

This child probably thought he was hiding his inner thoughts—but to Namgung An, who had survived decades among some of the most cunning tacticians in the world, it was transparent scheming.

And yet, perhaps for that very reason, it felt like a waste.

If not for his impatience, this child might have concealed his ambitions to the very end.

'A true talent.'

But the attitude of shifting one's own wrongs onto someone else—especially by exploiting the Young Lord's mistake, which the household members should have safeguarded—was unacceptable.

Namgung An lifted his gaze from the letter and stared straight at the Young Lord.

"Was this Hyun's idea?"

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Xuan paper - traditional high-quality paper used for calligraphy or painting