Return to Hometown (8)
“……”
A heavy silence flowed between them.
Dang Gwan fixed Dang Sang-a with a terrifying glare. In contrast, her expression remained serene. Maintaining such composure under her father's blazing stare was no small feat.
A moment later, Dang Gwan finally spoke.
“I cannot permit it.”
“……”
“I'll speak to the Moyong family head on your behalf, so return to your quarters and rest.”
“I'm going.”
Dang Gwan bellowed, “Do you even know what kind of place it is?!”
“A deathtrap. With Tu Wang Yang Cheon involved, one misstep could cost your life.”
“And you still spout such nonsense?!”
“It's the path I've chosen.”
“There's no such thing as a glorious path to death. Go back. I won't send you on this mission.”
“Yeon Gunjang—the practical affairs leader—already put my name on the operation orders.”
“I can tear up that scrap of paper.”
“Even if you burn it, I'll still go.”
Fsssh.
Poisonous aura rippled from Dang Gwan's body. His surging rage had unleashed his poison arts uncontrollably.
“Do you want me to tie you up and lock you away myself?”
Dang Sang-a met her father's eyes squarely.
“Why are you doing this all of a sudden?”
“You call that a question?!”
“I'm genuinely curious.”
“A Tang family blood relative moving without the family head's permission? If you weren't my daughter, you'd be thrown in the brain prison without a second thought!”
“Was I ever your daughter?”
“What?”
Dang Sang-a unleashed her words as if she'd prepared them in advance.
“When did I become your daughter, Father? When Grandfather personally taught me? Or when the family elders valued me more highly than Yangseon?”
“……!”
“Or was it when you decided to send your unwanted, talented daughter off to the Moyong family like an eyesore?”
Dang Gwan's nose twitched in fury. This rebellion from his daughter was utterly unforeseen. He was flustered—and enraged.
As Dang Gwan opened his mouth to retort, Dang Sang-a added one more barb.
“Wasn't I just supposed to leave the family?”
“……!”
“That's what you wanted, right? For me, the thorn in your side, not to hinder the heir Yangseon.”
He never imagined she'd confront him so openly. While Dang Gwan stammered in shock, she dropped another bombshell.
“You might not believe me, but I understand you, Father. The family laws and history demand it. That's why I've endured until now.”
“……”
“But if you try to suppress even my desire to live my own life outside the family, then I'll have no choice but to abandon the Tang name.”
“W-what?!”
Dang Gwan's face flushed crimson.
“Have you truly lost your mind?!”
To abandon the Tang name? It was tantamount to severing all ties with the family—equivalent to expulsion from a sect in the Central Plains' ethos. Far more terrifying than a threat of death.
Dang Gwan simply couldn't comprehend this situation. Why had his usually docile daughter suddenly turned so radical?
Dang Sang-a's expression hardened gradually.
“Then what do you want from me, Father? Don't interfere with Yangseon, and don't live your own life. Am I just a doll to you, not a person?”
“You brat! Are you picking a fight with your own father?!”
“What do you see me as? A daughter, or just part of the family assets?”
“……!”
“Since we're on the topic, let's get this out too. I've come prepared.”
Dang Sang-a closed her eyes.
“If you think of me as your daughter, respect my choice. But if you see me as disposable property, then kill me right here.”
Dang Gwan's face drained of color. Not content with threatening to abandon the family name, now she was asking for death. He could never have imagined such extreme words from her mouth.
Tremble.
The seeping poisonous aura faltered.
Dang Sang-a opened her eyes. She saw her father's distorted face, his breathing ragged.
“I'll take my leave now.”
“You're not an object.”
“……?”
“I've never once thought of you as an object. You are my daughter—no one can deny that.”
Dang Sang-a's eyes wavered.
Dang Gwan continued in a heavy voice.
“The Tang Ma Army has numbers. Their leader, Moyong Woo, is a once-in-a-generation genius. That's why I said nothing. I thought gaining experience in an organization wouldn't hurt.”
“……”
“But this is different. It's a perilous mission where one slip could cost your life! And serving under that damned brat? I absolutely cannot allow it!”
“I have one more question.”
“……?”
“Are you truly worried about my life? Or are you concerned I'll become a hostage to Yeon Gunjang?”
For an instant, Dang Gwan's eyes flickered.
Dang Sang-a sighed.
“Did you think I wouldn't notice just because I smile all the time? That you and the Moyong family head are clashing with the opposing faction led by the Yeon family.”
“……!”
“I don't know what's truly in your heart, Father. But I'm me. I don't want to be anyone's hostage, and I won't let anyone stop me from doing what I want.”
“That's……”
A somewhat subdued voice escaped Dang Gwan's lips.
“It's not something you can just decide because you want to.”
“I know. That's why I'll smash anyone who touches me, no questions asked.”
“……!!”
Dang Sang-a rose from her seat.
“I'll be back.”
With that, she left the quarters. Dang Gwan stared at the spot where she'd sat for a long while before a sigh burst from him.
What the hell.
He never dreamed he'd be so flustered by his daughter's rebellion—or lack thereof. He'd thought a single shout would bend her will. In the early stages of their talk, he'd been surprised but hadn't faltered.
Yet her thunderbolt words had shocked even him. Abandon the family name? Kill her instead? Who could have foreseen his gentle daughter turning so resolute?
Suddenly, Dang Gwan recalled a conversation with his own father.
'I failed to understand my family's hearts. Most past family heads likely did the same. But I realized far too late that it shouldn't be that way.'
'What are you trying to say?'
'I don't want you to end up like those heads, puppets of family tradition and law, devoured by the house style.'
'Don't worry. I'm different from you.'
'You're wrong. Among my children, none resemble me more than you. That's why I'm worried.'
Bam!
Dang Gwan slammed the table, green smoke rising from his fist.
* * *
“Have a sip.”
Yeon Hojeong took a mouthful of tea.
“What do you think? Good?”
“It's fine.”
“Your voice lacks sincerity.”
“I've never been one for tea flavors. As long as it's not bad, it's all good.”
“Hahaha.”
“So, why'd you call me? The one who needs to march out soon.”
Moyong Gun smiled.
“What else? You know how tough this mission is. Can't send off the practical affairs leader without a cup of tea.”
“Suddenly the tea tastes bitter.”
“Why? Can't I worry about you?”
“Since when were you the worrying type?”
“I have to this time.”
Moyong Gun pulled a neatly folded letter from his bosom and handed it over. Yeon Hojeong's face showed puzzlement.
“What's this?”
“I already gave one to Huigae, but here's yours. A list of useful sects and organizations. Not too many—pick what fits the situation.”
Yeon Hojeong chuckled.
“Useful sects? Must be the middling ones.”
Moyong Gun laughed contentedly.
“Talking to you is always straightforward. Had to explain each one to Huigae.”
“Huigae's smart too. Just overly suspicious of you.”
“Knowing when to suspect and when to trust—that's a skill.”
“Nice words.”
“In that regard, you're an impressive friend. Smart head, keen eye, sharp instincts.”
Yeon Hojeong tucked the letter away.
“I'll take it, then.”
Moyong Gun's smile remained, but his voice grew heavier.
“Be careful.”
“Of course.”
“This mission seems simple at first glance, but Tu Wang's presence alone elevates it to top priority.”
Yeon Hojeong nodded. In his memory, Yang Cheon was no ordinary figure. Though he'd advanced further after crushing him to claim Heukje-seong, that victory had involved luck.
But Yang Cheon's terror wasn't just his martial prowess.
“And from separate reports, Yang Cheon……”
“Fights without rules?”
“How did you know?”
Yeon Hojeong feigned ignorance.
“I've been suspicious. Yang Cheon isn't widely known in the Central Plains, yet he's black path ranked with the Tu Wang moniker.”
“True.”
“Taming rats is harder than slaying tigers. Yet he did it.”
Moyong Gun chuckled. It echoed what he'd told Dang Gwan. This man was cut from the same cloth.
“Exactly. That's why he's scarier.”
“If he forged that path alone, without help, it'd be even stranger. Hiding such talent until now.”
“So you've been wary.”
“Yes.”
Moyong Gun shook his head.
“He might have had help, but don't assume. Digging too deep could mean death.”
“I know.”
“You'll handle it wisely, I'm sure.”
They both sipped their tea. Moyong Gun spoke again.
“You're the commander in name, but the practical team is the mission's core. Distance limits coordination, so your judgment decides success or failure.”
Yeon Hojeong smiled.
“Wish you'd come along.”
Moyong Gun waved it off.
“Don't say that. I'd rather assassinate an enemy head than dive into this mess.”
“Why? You've tackled far more complex fights for supreme power.”
The warm atmosphere froze instantly. Moyong Gun parried smoothly.
“That's my point. Amid those headaches, I have no desire for this.”
Yeon Hojeong smirked.
“Let's call a truce, then.”
“Haven't we already?”
“You know that's not what I mean.”
Moyong Gun's smile deepened.
“Worried I'll pull some scheme while you're gone?”
“I wouldn't have before, but lately? You'd do it.”
What a terrifying bastard.
Despite his thoughts, Moyong Gun shrugged nonchalantly.
“Fights need opponents. Don't worry—just focus on the mission.”
“I'll say it clearly.”
Yeon Hojeong's gaze turned icy for a moment.
“No attacks until I return.”
Frost settled on Moyong Gun's face.
“That's up to me.”
They glared at each other for a long stretch. But it passed quickly. Yeon Hojeong laughed and stood.
“Great tea.”
“Glad it suited you.”
Moyong Gun relaxed his expression.
“Contact us the moment you enter Yang Cheon's territory. He's expanding even now.”
“Got it.”
Yeon Hojeong clasped his fists in salute.
“Then.”
Moyong Gun returned the gesture.
“Good luck.”