Guwon Gong (1)
Dang Hoiyeong knew the chief steward just as well as she knew the clan head.
Or, to be more precise, it might be better to say she knew him better than her own father.
Well, no. Maybe she knew the steward even more intimately?
After her mother passed away, the clan head had rarely shown his face to her. But the steward would occasionally drop by with some tanghwa candy and keep her company.
"It's been a while, young miss."
The steward gave a slight bow in greeting. At the same time, he flicked his eyes over her, checking her condition—and clear bewilderment crossed his face.
Why the look?
Dang Hoiyeong soon realized his gaze was fixed on her mouth. She wiped it with her hand.
Sticky.
Oh crap. How embarrassing. A ten-year-old kid with a crushed wrist, lounging in bed sucking on tanghwa like it was no big deal—she'd make that face too.
She hurriedly licked around her mouth clean, then tilted her head delicately and bowed it slightly, playing up her frailty.
"Long time no see, Steward."
"Haha. Glad to see you're doing well. That's a relief."
At those words, her nanny shot the steward a sharp glare and snapped,
"You think the young miss looks like she's doing well, Steward?"
"Haha... no, that's not what I—"
"A girl who hasn't even learned martial arts gets her wrist crushed and nearly passes out, and you're jesting?"
The steward cleared his throat awkwardly, shooting another glance at Dang Hoiyeong's serene face and lips.
She touched her mouth again.
Ah, still a bit left.
She flicked her tongue out once more, polishing off the rest.
The steward's eyes twitched.
"Ahem. Thanks to your resilience, young miss, I misspoke. My apologies."
"Watch your words. And where's the clan head? Why are you here?"
Ooh, nice one, Nanny. Yeah, yeah. First rule of negotiation: momentum.
She was hurt this bad—they had to squeeze every concession out of it.
"The clan head is swamped with clan affairs, so he had no choice but to send me. Please don't feel too slighted, young miss. He's worried about you too..."
The nanny cut him off.
"Get to the point."
"Ahem. The clan head sends this elixir from the secure vaults of the main pavilion, wishing you a swift recovery."
The steward drew a small wooden box wrapped in silk from his robes.
He opened the lid, and the air in the room grew chillingly cold.
"Cheongang Dokseonghwan."
He said, closing the lid again. The chill faded back to normal.
A sign the elixir's energy was no ordinary thing.
In truth, it must have been quite the treasure—the nanny's displeased scowl toward the steward had softened.
Dang Hoiyeong asked,
"Ooh, Cheongang Dokseonghwan. So, what's it do?"
"It's one of the clan's most prized elixirs."
The steward carefully handed the closed box to the nanny and continued.
"It contains inner energy equivalent to a full gapja cycle—sixty years—something rare even in the martial world. But its true value isn't just the raw power."
A subtle note of pride colored his voice.
"It protects the user's meridians throughout their body, easing the excruciating pain that inevitably comes with initiating poison arts. It also helps the body accept incoming poison qi without resistance."
Dang Hoiyeong nodded, glancing at her nanny.
The nanny nodded back, as if to say it was enough.
Seemed like it really was an incredibly valuable elixir. The steward's tone said as much.
"Whoa, jackpot. Perfect for me."
"J-jackpot?"
"Clan head really came through. I'll put it to good use."
As a slightly warm atmosphere settled in, Dang Hoiyeong turned to the steward.
"So, when can I head back to the main compound?"
His eyes visibly shook at the question.
Thinking about it now, is it okay for the clan's chief steward to suck so bad at masking his expressions?
Whatever. The clan head must have things under control.
The steward averted his gaze, fumbling for words.
"W-well... the clan head said... once you successfully initiate into martial arts..."
"What? You think that's something to say right now?"
The nanny's face twisted fiercely.
Honestly, even Dang Hoiyeong thought it was a crappy thing to say to a kid who'd gotten hurt trying to learn martial arts on the clan head's orders.
This wasn't the heukdo underworld. Even there, they wouldn't pull that. Maybe in the mad realms.
The steward shrank back from her glare, looking wronged, his expression screaming, What do you expect me to do about it?
The nanny clicked her tongue, approached Dang Hoiyeong, stroked her hair, and said gently,
"Young miss, wait here just a moment. I'll step out and have a word with the steward."
No sooner had she spoken than she grabbed the steward by the collar like a scruffed cat and dragged him outside.
He debated shooting Dang Hoiyeong a desperate save me look but ultimately gave up, closing his eyes in resignation as he was hauled out.
Left alone, Dang Hoiyeong quietly slipped out of bed.
She snuck a tanghwa from the basket her nanny had hidden and flopped back down.
Om nom nom.
The steward's muffled wails drifted in from outside now and then.
The chief steward was the clan head's right-hand man, the clan's number two.
Officially, anyway. Retired elders didn't count in the hierarchy.
And among them, only the Elder Council Leader outranked him.
As far as child Dang Hoiyeong—who cared little for martial arts or clan politics—knew.
But Nanny outranks the steward?
Even if not, he was definitely yielding to her.
Come to think of it, Dang Hoiyeong knew nothing of her nanny's past. She'd asked a few times as a kid, but the nanny had always deftly dodged the questions.
Even Dang Cheol, that librarian creep, had seemed like a peak Jeoljeong expert to her eyes.
And she'd taken him down in one move.
Gotta ask her again later what she used to do.
She'd polished off the tanghwa before she knew it.
Confirming the steward's groans still echoing from outside, she slipped out of bed again.
Taking longer than I thought.
Truth be told, she'd only brought it up to dodge more nagging once back at the main compound.
More attendants there meant no more tidying her own bedding, and she could sneak more tanghwa without the nanny watching.
But to her nanny and the steward, she must've just looked like a poor kid craving her father's love.
Not intended, but a happy accident.
And hadn't the clan head basically ordered her to learn martial arts anyway?
Just play the doting daughter dying to see Daddy ASAP.
No matter how strict the nanny, she couldn't block her from heading to the pavilion tomorrow.
Perfect. Absolutely perfect!
As she reached for another tanghwa from the basket—
Click.
The nanny reentered the room.
Dragging a ragdoll version of the steward in one hand.
"Ah."
Om nom nom...
A little later... or a little sooner...
The tanghwa stuck to her teeth.
By some miracle, Dang Hoiyeong convinced her nanny—and paid for it with a two-week tanghwa ban.
She briefly considered ditching the pavilion for the candy...
But if she learned a martial art quick and returned to the main compound within a fortnight, problem solved!
No nanny oversight there—she could mooch tanghwa off the other maids.
And so, the next morning...
Dang Hoiyeong headed to the Cheondok Bigak with her nanny.
Thanks to the prior incident, the nanny could enter as her guardian.
"Welcome, young miss."
The Cheondok Bigak wasn't managed by just Dang Cheol alone.
A wizened old librarian bowed politely to greet them.
Following his lead, they headed to the third floor, where she'd gone before.
Dang Hoiyeong said,
"I wanna go to the fourth floor."
"My apologies, but the fourth floor holds arts near singong—divine skills. Far too complex and dangerous for you, young miss."
The gist matched what Dang Cheol had said before.
And it wasn't empty talk—her nanny chimed in from the side.
"The librarian is right, young miss. Even the third floor is plenty perilous and intricate for an initiation art."
"Really? I saw everything on the third floor, and it seemed doable."
At her calm reply, the nanny and librarian burst into wry chuckles.
The third-floor arts were advanced techniques.
If leaked outside, the Tang clan's shadow troops would mobilize, and factions would draw blades over them.
Even mastering the basics took a minimum of a fortnight, no matter how fast the learner—and that was with a qi-transmitting master or teacher present, and exceptional talent to boot.
Yet she'd skimmed them all in a day and claimed she could handle it?
They could only chalk it up to childish whimsy.
Dang Hoiyeong knew that too. Just testing the waters.
"Truth is, the third floor holds bad memories, and that Dang Cheol guy blocked the fourth floor hard. I wanna see what it's like. Can't I?"
They both nodded at that. The librarian said,
"Very well. Letting you peek should dispel any lingering regrets. This way."
They followed him to the fourth floor: an empty void.
Before stepping in, he warned,
"Follow carefully. One misstep, and the formation traps you."
He took a step—and vanished.
A jinbeop formation.
The nanny took Dang Hoiyeong's hand and followed right after.
The scenery rippled like watercolor in the rain, transforming in an instant.
The vast emptiness had become a massive cave labyrinth of countless forks.
Dang Hoiyeong swallowed dryly.
As expected of Sacheon Tangga... laying a formation this intricate inside a library.
A scale and precision she'd never seen even in her past life.
As she marveled, scanning around, the librarian waiting at the first fork said,
"Let's go."
They wandered the cave nonstop for about an hour. Just as she wondered when they'd arrive—
The scenery rippled again, the cave vanishing.
They'd arrived in a cramped library.
One lone bookshelf stood before them.
The books numbered barely enough to count on two hands.
But each was a martial legend resounding across the world.
Among them: Manteon Hwau, the hidden weapon art that made Sacheon Tangga the world's top in concealed techniques.
Manteon Hwau. The real deal.
The martial world's most infamous hidden weapon art, called the pinnacle, near-divine.
She'd faced it once in her past life but couldn't fathom its principles—a wondrous technique.
Her fingers twitched to grab it, but she squeezed her eyes shut and forced her gaze away.
Arts that divine take ages to chew and digest.
What she needed now was an inner cultivation method, not pinnacle hidden weapons.
As a direct Tang scion, she could return anytime she wanted. Patience.
Scanning the manuals one by one...
Found it.
Doban Samyang Guwon Gong
Dang Hoiyeong picked up the manual without hesitation.