At the Martial Alliance (4)
Dang Sang-ah was startled by her father’s question.
It was an incredibly sensitive matter. She had never imagined he would ask her something so public—especially a question tied directly to the position of family head.
Is Yang-seon suited to become the patriarch?
Dang Sang-ah found herself unable to answer easily.
Dang Gwan spoke again.
“Answer without feeling burdened. Whatever you say, I won’t misunderstand or take offense.”
“If you say so…”
Dang Sang-ah thought of Dang Yang-seon.
Though he was her cousin, no matter how generously she tried to view him, it was difficult to see him as someone of true character.
Of course, he possessed martial talent. After arriving at the Martial Alliance she had come to realize just how many geniuses existed in the world, yet that did not mean Dang Yang-seon’s own talent was lacking.
What mattered far more, however, was his disposition.
In the eyes of the martial world, what kind of family was the Sichuan Tang Family? Opinions varied, but everyone agreed on one point: it was a ruthless clan that was difficult to approach.
That fearsome reputation had been built on the path the Tang Family had walked until now. They showed no mercy to their enemies and repaid grudges tenfold—or even twentyfold.
Could Dang Yang-seon truly be the right person to lead such a family as its patriarch?
“To be honest…”
Dang Sang-ah let out a quiet sigh.
“I believe it is still too early.”
She had phrased it as gently as possible, yet the meaning was clear: he was not suited.
“In martial arts, both Grandfather and Father are here. If you taught him with real dedication, he could one day become an exceptional master.”
“That is true.”
“But character is another matter. Yang-seon will enter the middle of his twenties next year. A temperament he has lived with his entire life will not change easily.”
“What do you think of his character?”
“……”
“Speak freely.”
“It is not good.”
A plain statement without any embellishment—precisely why it struck so deeply.
“Whether as a patriarch, a martial artist, or even as a blood relative of the Tang Family… it is difficult to call Yang-seon’s character good.”
It was an exceedingly honest answer. One could easily interpret it as criticism of Dang Gwan himself for failing to raise his son properly.
Yet neither the daughter who spoke the words nor the father who heard them misunderstood. Wrong was wrong. Inadequate was inadequate.
Dang Gwan mulled over her words for a long moment before speaking again.
“There was once a brothel that vanished entirely.”
“Pardon?”
“Five years ago, Yang-seon frequented a certain establishment. I knew, but I pretended not to notice. If he had simply grown addicted to the place, that would be one thing—at least he never neglected his duties.”
“Ah… yes.”
These were not easy words to say in front of his daughter. After all, a brothel was a place where women sold wine, laughter, and their bodies.
“The murim is a harsh place. I considered it one facet of experience and chose not to intervene. Moreover, I did not believe he was the sort to lose himself to carnal desire and neglect his own development.”
“……”
“Yet the brothel he visited so often burned to the ground five years ago in a fire.”
Dang Gwan closed his eyes.
“More than twenty courtesans died. Including the owner, the kitchen staff, and the laborers, the total casualties neared forty.”
“……!”
Dang Sang-ah’s face turned deathly pale.
“Don’t tell me… Yang-seon was responsible?”
“Since you spoke honestly, I will do the same.”
Dang Gwan sighed.
It had been a long time since she last heard her father sigh like that.
“I did not investigate the matter.”
“……”
“Pardon?”
“I suspected it was his doing. But I chose not to investigate. I inferred the truth, but if I had looked into it directly and confirmed beyond doubt that he was responsible…”
Uncharacteristically, Dang Gwan could not finish the sentence.
Dang Sang-ah asked softly, “You were afraid you would be disappointed?”
“I would be now. But back then, the reason was different.”
“Different?”
“Even if it had been proven that he did it, I would not have punished him at the time.”
At the time.
He had deliberately emphasized those words.
It was because he was speaking to his daughter—the very daughter who had witnessed his transformation with her own eyes. He knew she would not misunderstand, yet he still stressed the distinction just in case.
In the end, Dang Gwan was still a father. He wanted to look good in his child’s eyes.
At least compared to the past, the man before her now showed a far more human side of parenthood.
“The reason I did not investigate back then was that I feared it would obstruct his path to becoming patriarch.”
The moment a secret is spoken of, the leak has already begun. No matter how tight-lipped the subordinates, once a secret is shared, trouble inevitably follows.
Dang Gwan had moved to block any possibility of leakage in advance.
“…So that was it.”
“As you know, the patriarch of our Tang Family holds tremendous power. Yet not every patriarch in our history enjoyed the same authority.”
Dang Gwan gazed up at the sky.
His expression looked somewhat stifled. It was a sincere face he showed only to his blood kin—one he would never reveal to Yeon Wi or Jegal Mun-ho.
“The Tang Family patriarch faces challenges. Especially those that come from above rather than below. One of the reasons I keep my distance from your grandfather is this very issue.”
Of course, that was not the greatest reason.
Her grandfather, the Dark King, had been a cold and ruthless patriarch, the strongest ruler in the Tang Family’s long history. He was remembered as both its greatest monarch and its most terrifying one.
Yet after handing the position of patriarch to Dang Gwan, he had changed.
He had realized that his own reign of fear—and the fear-based rule that countless future patriarchs would continue—would one day rot the Tang Family from within.
“A Supreme King must not interfere in the kingdom’s politics. But every retired former patriarch in our history failed to uphold that principle. Because of their self-righteous and narrow views, they would meddle in the current patriarch’s affairs the moment they found even the slightest fault with an outstanding successor.”
Though the Tang Family head appeared to wield absolute power within Sichuan, the reality had always been far more complicated.
“Yet your grandfather has never once interfered in my rule. In that respect, he is truly impeccable. Since he was such an outstanding patriarch himself, he never suffered such interference from his own predecessors.”
“……”
“Still, blood cannot lie. Each time he called me for a casual conversation, he would offer a few words of criticism about my governing philosophy.”
Dang Gwan closed his eyes once more.
“My father and I possess different ideologies and have learned different lessons. To your grandfather, who guided the Tang Family to its golden age, my methods must have seemed terribly inadequate.”
“That… that can’t be true.”
Even as she said it, Dang Sang-ah knew the truth.
When she had trained in martial arts under her grandfather, he had occasionally let slip a few unguarded comments about her father. They had not been about ability, but the perceptive Dang Sang-ah had sensed that her grandfather did not hold her father in particularly high regard.
“And that is not all. An exceptional leader naturally attracts capable subordinates. Several elders of the main house have attempted—openly or in secret—to interfere in my decisions.”
Dang Gwan opened his eyes and looked directly at his daughter.
“Do you understand now? The seat of the Tang Family patriarch is that difficult to hold. Even with a designated successor, few elders offer genuine support. It is fortunate if they simply refrain from interference.”
“……”
“I did not want Yang-seon to face such an environment. That is why I buried every ugly rumor about him.”
It was a painful confession to make—especially in front of his own child.
Just hearing it revealed how profoundly Dang Gwan had changed.
“It was my mistake.”
“Father…”
“If I had truly wanted what was best for him, I should never have done that.”
This was the first time she had seen her father express regret.
This was the first time he had spoken to her so gravely about something so serious.
“And my even greater mistake was the narrow-minded belief that Yang-seon must become patriarch no matter what.”
“Father…”
“A person without the necessary ability cannot endure that position. I wanted Yang-seon to possess sufficient strength. But looking back now, I only taught him power and ruthlessness. I failed to teach him how he should view the world.”
Dang Gwan gave a small nod, as if confirming his own thoughts.
“When I return to the family, I intend to strip Yang-seon of his position as young patriarch.”
“……!”
Dang Sang-ah’s face stiffened.
Having overcome the meddling of previous generations and solidified his authority, Dang Gwan had become the most powerful patriarch since the previous head, Dang Hyeong.
Yet no matter how strong one’s power, revoking a designated successor was an extraordinarily difficult task. It was a political gamble.
More than that, it meant fighting against the Tang Family’s own history. There had never been a case of revoking a successor unless the heir had died or become crippled.
“To be precise, I will revoke his position if he shows no change in the future.”
“Will that not be dangerous?”
“It will invite many headaches. The elders’ opposition will be fierce. They may even claim I have disregarded the family’s history and call for my own disqualification as patriarch.”
“That… that is too harsh.”
“Of course, I will not fall to the complaints of those old men. Still, my foundation may shake considerably for some time.”
Dang Gwan shook his head.
“I have decided to bear it. For the sake of my child and for the sake of the family.”
Worry clouded Dang Sang-ah’s face.
This was likely the most difficult decision her father had made since ascending to the position of patriarch. He must have agonized over it for a long time.
She lowered her head.
“I may not be able to offer any real help… but I support you, Father.”
“That is not true.”
“Pardon?”
“You are more than enough strength for me.”
“……!”
A brief silence settled between father and daughter.
Soon Dang Gwan changed the subject.
“I hear Yeon Hojeong will arrive soon.”
“Ah, yes.”
Dang Sang-ah’s face had grown slightly flushed. Her father’s earlier words had clearly pleased her.
“They say Moyong Woo will not be coming.”
“I see.”
“Are you not disappointed?”
Dang Sang-ah smiled.
“We are not in any relationship yet.”
Dang Gwan spoke in a firm tone.
“It is difficult to call the Moyong Family Head a good man even in jest. However, Moyong Woo is different. I do not care for his household, but if we judge only the person, he would not be a bad match.”
To hear him speak this way showed just how much he had truly changed.
“I intend to let things flow naturally. If we are not meant to be, it will not happen. And if we are destined, will it not come to pass even without forcing it?”
“You are mistaken. Fate is also created by people. Do not be bewitched by words like destiny or predestination. Relationships do not shine their light on those who make no effort.”
The words carried the weight of experience. After all, Dang Gwan had worked tirelessly to close the distance between himself and his daughter.
“You are no longer that young. If you do not like him, there is nothing to be done. But if you think he is acceptable, then throw yourself in without hesitation.”
Dang Sang-ah couldn’t help but laugh. Throw yourself in without hesitation? It was such a characteristically blunt, fatherly thing to say.
“By the way, is there a reason only Captain Yeon is returning? Since the mission is complete, shouldn’t the Uijeong Army return as well?”
“The mission is not over. The Uijeong Army will remain in Guangdong until the region is fully stabilized.”
“Then why is Captain Yeon…?”
Dang Gwan’s eyes turned cold.
They had returned to the piercing gaze that had once shaken all of Sichuan with terror—the eyes that truly belonged to him.
“Because we must catch the loach. This time, it seems I will need to lend him a hand as well.”