Heukcheon's Foolish Demise
Sacheon Dangga.
A name that never fails to come up when discussing the world's top clans.
A family that has reigned for centuries through mastery of poisons and hidden weapons.
One of the massive pillars upholding the baekdo murim world, rightfully called the true masters of Sacheon.
A prestigious murim noble house.
However, due to their extremely insular family traditions, they form the isolated village of Danggata and rarely venture beyond Sacheon or exert influence outside...
A voluntarily reclusive loner clan.
In such a Danggata of the Sacheon Dangga, in a quiet little annex tucked away in a remote corner.
A young girl was trembling violently, holding a newspaper as big as her own body in her small hands, peering into it.
"We'll continue follow-up reports as soon as Heuksa Ryeon's official statement comes out...?! Wh-who wrote this shit? Who the fuck!!!"
The girl clutching the newspaper, Dang Hoiyeong, let out a furious shout in a rough tone more fitting for a street urchin than a clan lady, echoing through the annex.
This couldn't be happening.
Yeah. It shouldn't be happening!
Heukcheon's end being sullied by such absurd incitement and fabrication.
Dang Hoiyeong's eyes darted around, scanning down to the very last line of the newspaper.
"Jegal, Jegal Mun... Jegal Mun?! You bastard!!!"
Every damn time with the Heaven's Black Evil Great Dao Alliance—what a pain to even say. Whatever.
They'd mess around with Heuksa Ryeon events through these rags, and now they outright insult Heukcheon's death like this?
Unforgivable.
Of course, it wasn't a lie that he died from qi deviation? But they conveniently omitted some key facts.
For example, the spirit pill he ate the day before, thinking it was a wondrous elixir, turned out to be laced with an unseen Sango Gongdok, pointing to some shadowy group's plot?
Or that during his qi circulation, he was ambushed by his closest aides he'd treated like family his whole life?
Or that he held back against one of the traitors, hoping to spare at least one, only for the rebound force to shred his organs into rags?
This blatant fact that he didn't just pathetically die from plain qi deviation...!
...
"No matter how you package it, dying like a fucking idiot just doesn't package well."
No matter that it was a brand-new Sango Gongdok never seen in the murim, a transcendent expert at the Cheoneoecheoneon level couldn't discern one pill and fucked up his inner energy control?
Sango Gongdok like that isn't common, so even if it was some shadowy group's scheme, the fact that he ate it like a moron and died doesn't change.
Fine, betrayal by comrades he trusted like family?
As a heukdo leader with enemies everywhere, failing to manage even his own subordinates and getting backstabbed to death—what's there to brag about?
Baekdo would rage in righteous fury, but Heukcheon was heukdo.
Baekdo would click their tongues in satisfaction, and heukdo would point fingers calling him the king of idiots.
And holding back now, when his nose was already pierced and he was done for, giving them a chance to recover from qi deviation and worsening his internal injuries until he croaked?
No need to even mention that.
Hell, maybe it was heavenly fortune that only the qi deviation part got out.
Dang Hoiyeong tore the newspaper to shreds and scattered it everywhere, let out a deep sigh, stood up, and glared at the mirror while muttering.
"Heukcheon, you fucking idiot. Why'd you have to die like such a fucking moron."
If you're gonna die, at least go out with some style, damn it.
There must've been multiple chances to live—why'd he do it?
She couldn't understand.
"Why'd I do it? Why... why the hell did I do that?"
She stared into the mirror for a long time, repeating the mutter, but no good answer came.
Dang Hoiyeong replayed her past life's final moments over and over, but couldn't find the answer.
To be precise, she knew the answer but didn't want to admit it.
She squeezed her eyes shut and muttered once more.
"Why'd I do that..."
A lovely girl's voice, familiar yet unfamiliar. Clearly her voice, heard her whole life.
But her mind recognized a sturdy young man's voice as her own.
This time, opening her tightly shut eyes, the mirror didn't show a handsome youth covered in scars.
Instead, a flawless beauty raised delicately in a noble house stared back.
This face too was hers—familiar yet not.
"The face is the hardest part to get used to."
As expected of a precious clan lady, her waist-length glossy black hair shimmered.
Below, refreshingly wide eyes curved in gentle arcs, and as a direct Tang bloodline, shining jade-green eyes gleamed prominently.
Her soft cheeks—how squishy they were. In her past life at this age, what was she like? Scrounging trash bins as a homeless orphan, no cheeks, just skin and bones.
"Hoo. Fuck."
She scowled sharply at her awkward appearance and spat a thick curse, but in the mirror, the girl just looked like an adorably pissed-off puppy with furrowed brows.
Heukcheon... no, Dang Hoiyeong sighed deeply, flopped onto the floor, and blankly stared at the ceiling.
What the hell was I even born for?
Repeating the exact thought a kid her age would have, she began sorting her thoughts.
She'd decided to lie down and sort her thoughts, but there wasn't much special about it.
The issue wasn't some tangled complex mess.
She just needed time to accept this reality.
Dang Hoiyeong.
Her name in this life.
Though now living in a remote annex in Danggata with just her nanny and a couple maids, she was still direct lineage of Sacheon Dangga.
Unlike Heukcheon, born a heaven-forsaken orphan scraping by on the streets day to day.
Anyway.
Why was a precious direct descendant of Sacheon Dangga living in such an annex? Simple reason.
She'd refused to learn martial arts, as is expected in a murim clan.
A sort of exile.
The pre-memory Dang Hoiyeong must've been spoiled rotten, belly bloated to bursting.
What, was there some grand reason or circumstance?
Nope.
Just didn't want to harm people—a reason that wouldn't fly in this brutal jianghu.
—People are precious... I'd rather learn medicine to save them.
If she were a branch family in Danggata, it'd have been welcomed. Tang were famed for poisons and hidden weapons, but their medicine was equally renowned.
But Dang Hoiyeong was direct lineage.
This was a murim clan, and she had the duty to inherit, preserve, and advance the clan's unique poison arts.
The patriarch and her big bro... big bro? Blech.
Still not used to it.
Anyway, the patriarch and her blood kin tried coaxing, begging, even yelling, but a kid's stubbornness doesn't break easy.
Eventually, exiled to the annex by the patriarch's order until she changed her mind, and three months passed.
Two days ago, past life memories suddenly resurfaced.
If kid-me from the past heard this, she'd flip and charge in rage at the absurdity.
With a perfect family and peerless arts to protect herself, throwing such a tantrum? Utterly ridiculous.
Honestly, beyond absurd—something she'd never even imagined.
Whatever, doesn't matter now. Whether her head was full of flowers now or her past death was moronic.
Water under the bridge.
Recalling her past death still made her body tremble with rage, but coldly speaking, it was over.
Irreversible.
She'd killed all the betrayers herself. No grudges left.
If nitpicking enmities, some shadowy group delivered that rare, novel Sango Gongdok disguised as an elixir—but hard for even Dangga to make.
But she'd been dead thirty years.
Doubt she could track them even if she wanted, and honestly, didn't care to.
The betrayers who fed it to her were all dead anyway.
Born direct Tang lineage with a comfy life ahead—why bother?
Thirty years since Heukcheon's death; tracing remnants wouldn't be easy.
Wanna give that Jegal Mun punk a piece of my mind later.
Not urgent now.
No immediate goals for the future either.
So... maybe learn martial arts first.
The training that let a street rat orphan debate the heavens.
Didn't appeal thanks to this body's influence, but Heukcheon's decades in murim screamed to learn martial arts no matter what.
Screw clan recognition—past experience and death proved that in this harsh world, the only reliable thing wasn't family, friends, or allies.
Your own damn power.
Just learn it. No need to dive into the bloody murim. At least have the strength to protect myself.
Whether medicine or living like a lazy beast, decide after gaining power.
Good. Strike while the iron's hot.
As Dang Hoiyeong rose to sit cross-legged.
"Miss. What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Lost in thought, she hadn't noticed the woman enter.
Her nanny Dang Yeonseol, who'd stayed by her side in place of her late mother, pointed at the floor with a demonic glare.
Revealing the shredded newspaper scraps, messy bedding... a room rivaling a beast's den.
Fucked.
She'd rarely seen her nanny this mad.
Heukcheon's cool aura vanished; a scared kid's quivering voice echoed softly.
"N-Nanny! This is, well... I was gonna clean it up, but...!"
"Gonna clean? I saw you rolling on the floor just now with my own eyes."
"N-no! Nanny, hear me out? There's a reason...!"
But her desperate excuses didn't pierce her nanny's ironclad heart.
Her nanny's jade hand sliced the air, slamming into Dang Hoiyeong's back with vicious speed.
"Kyyyaack!!!"