A Trifle Brews the Tempest
Sometimes a trifle can stir up a storm.
Clack. A handsome young man in pristine white robes placed a white stone on the Go board. He wasn't just striking to look at—there was an extraordinary air about him. Serene as still water, yet his eyes gleamed with profound wisdom. Anyone could tell at a glance he was no ordinary talent.
And well they might. This striking man was none other than Nangong Hyun, the Cloud Palace Dragon (창궁룡), hailed as the greatest prodigy of the Nangong family—one of the Five Great Families.
As the second son of the family head, many in the clan already saw him as the de facto heir.
"I really can't beat you, brother."
A beauty who shared his features offered a wry smile as she set down her stone—a declaration of defeat. She was Nangong Hwaran, his younger sister, the Azure Sky Flower (창천화). The siblings, both adept at strategy even off the board, often indulged in these casual matches as a hobby.
"No, you've improved a great deal."
Nangong Hyun replied with a gentle smile—one he'd never show his half-brother, Nangong Ji.
"Flattering the loser gets you nowhere."
Nangong Hwaran returned a faint smile of her own, an expression she'd never waste on her half-brother either. Nangong Ji, absent here, knew it well. Blood ties didn't guarantee equal affection.
In fact, this might be the only place where any warmth existed for him.
Scrape. Nangong Hwaran swept the stones off the board.
"The Yongbong Assembly is next year."
"Yes."
"I hope Father formally names the heir by then."
Her words carried a hint of pressure. It was already overdue. Their children had all grown. For the clan's stability and the heir's position, it was time.
"Heh, that's Father's call."
Surprisingly, Nangong Hyun seemed in no rush, exuding leisure.
"But isn't it only right to settle it now?"
"True enough."
"Then shall I speak to Father...?"
"No need."
Nangong Hyun waved it off with a light smile. "Hwaran, this is just between us, but outsiders might see it as unseemly. Better to drop it."
"Ah... you're right, brother. I was being shortsighted."
Nangong Hwaran nodded, but added, "Still, your composure must come from confidence in your claim to the heirship."
"Haha, don't say that in front of our brother."
"Do you think I'm that clueless? But really."
"What?"
"Our eldest brother needs to hear it and shape up. He's no great vessel, but he shouldn't tarnish the Nangong name at minimum."
Nangong Hwaran clicked her tongue. Nangong Ji was the eldest son—an unchangeable fact. Even if passed over for heir due to incompetence, an eldest who wallowed in vice would sully the family's reputation. That irked her.
"Hm, his recent waywardness stems from resentment. He'll come around eventually."
"And if he doesn't?"
"Then... we may need unavoidable measures."
His aura was calm as water, but Nangong Hyun was no soft touch. He was decisive, clear on what to hold and sever. For him to voice such a thing meant...
"No need to worry, then."
Nangong Hwaran smiled thinly.
At that moment, a presence announced itself at the door.
"Young master, it's your humble servant Feng Ling."
"Come in."
A middle-aged man of plain features entered—Feng Ling, one of Nangong Hyun's trusted aides.
"What is it?"
"I have a report."
He glanced briefly at Nangong Hwaran. He served Nangong Hyun alone, not her.
"It's fine. Speak freely."
"Yes, young master."
Feng Ling nodded. "The eldest young master, who was away, has returned."
"Oh, already?"
Nangong Hwaran blinked in surprise. It was unusual. Nangong Ji's pleasure trips usually meant at least an overnight stay. If chasing skirts, he'd savor the night—only natural.
"Something unusual, it seems."
Nangong Hyun narrowed his eyes.
"Shall I investigate further?"
"No need. Probably just felt under the weather."
Nangong Hyun brushed it off. A telling scene—revealing Nangong Ji's current standing. Any real threat to the heirship wouldn't get such leniency. Nangong Hyun no longer saw him as a rival.
"Understood, young master."
Thus, Nangong Ji's early return passed without much notice from anyone.
No one knew the tempest it would unleash on the Nangong family.
"You're back early today, young master."
In the desolate hall before Nangong Ji's quarters, bereft of attendants, only an old woman greeted him. A servant of the Nangong household.
But.
"Ah, so it is, Nogo."
Nangong Ji addressed her with uncharacteristic respect. Unthinkable for an eldest son to a mere servant. There was a reason.
She wasn't just any servant. She'd been his birth mother's nursemaid since childhood, following her into the family upon marriage. Their bond needed no explanation.
More than that—sensing death from grave illness, his mother had entrusted her with his care in her dying words. Nangong Ji knew it well and honored her for it.
Now, she was the only one in the clan he could truly trust.
"I need to speak with you. Come inside, Nogo."
"Yes, young master."
"Information?"
The old woman widened her eyes.
"Yes. Information. I get some myself, but it's lacking."
Even as eldest, Nangong Ji's indulgence left him isolated from real intel.
Whereas she was a kitchen maid in the Nangong household. Kitchens buzzed with clan gossip—lifelines for the toiling women. Naturally.
And each tidbit was intelligence. Separating truth from lies was for the collector. Nangong Ji just needed it relayed.
"About Lady Hwaran?"
"Yes."
Words he'd never share with others. But with her, he could. She was the one he trusted utterly.
She showed no doubt. Bound by her late mistress's charge, she served him devotedly. Their bond ran deep.
"Understood, young master. Then..."
"No, now."
"Pardon?"
"Time's short. You must know plenty already."
Two decades as a Nangong maid—mild-mannered, efficient, well-liked. That's why Nangong Ji trusted her. She was his only option anyway.
"I see. Very well. I'll tell you straight away."
"Thank you, Nogo."
Nangong Ji readied brush and ink, determined not to miss a word.
A day's promise. If Nangong Ji broke it, all would crumble—but Bang So-un was relaxed. Certainty.
He'd come without fail. Those eyes back then swam with desire. Vengeful desire. Bang So-un understood. So much resentment built up, anyone would snap.
The Nangong family's misfortune to have such an eldest son.
Bang So-un smirked slyly.
Gulp. He took a swig of liquor and gazed ahead.
"Has the husband returned?"
"Yes, master."
"Puhahat! If he saw his wife like this, he'd drop dead from shock."
Bang So-un burst into laughter.
"Indeed, master."
Mo Ryeo-won cooed like a courtesan, nasal and fawning. Unthinkable for yesterday's proud Anhui matron.
That alone would shock her husband. But it was mere child's play.
Fwooo. Bang So-un savored his pipe.
But the room filled with more than one plume of smoke. From Mo Ryeo-won's spread ass, crouched naked, smoke rose from her crotch.
Precisely—from the long pipe jammed deep in her pussy.
The first in Murim, nay, Central Plains history: smoking a pipe with her cunt. Grotesque, absurd.
Her quivering pussy lips fluttered like a beak, convincingly puffing the pipe. Smoke billowed endlessly from her slit.
"Kuhahaha! What a spectacle."
Jang Il clutched his belly, roaring with laughter. A torment even he hadn't imagined—thanks to Bang So-un.
"Haha! Pussy pipe. Cunts really have one talent: they can do more than you'd think. Dicks can't manage half that."
"Kuhahaha! True enough."
"Right. Time to research what else we can make them do."
"Puhahat! As expected of the young master."
The master and servant shared the glee.
Then Jang Il's face shifted.
"Someone's coming."
A Peak expert's senses.
Bang So-un grinned.
"Ah, good. Hey, smoke-slut."
"Yes, master."
"Quit puffing that pipe with your pussy and get dressed quick."
"Yes, obeying master's command at once."
Mo Ryeo-won hastily shed her ridiculous pose. By the time she'd draped a skirt, resuming some normalcy, a knock came.
"Brother Bang, it's me."
Nangong Ji's voice.
"Ah, come in."
A triumphant smile curled Bang So-un's lips.