Sichuan's Phony Dragon Society
The case of Sam Sal of the Ghost Blades murdering members of the Tang Youth Training Unit was, for all intents and purposes, closed with the deaths of Tang Woo, Eon Jungmi, and Tang Gihyo.
The branch families grumbled that the three could have been captured alive and accused Sanlong of killing them recklessly, attempting to turn internal opinion against him — but Eon Jungmi's sins ran so deep that the backlash ended up striking the branch faction instead. When the servants of the Human Dragon Squad came forward one after another to testify about Eon Jungmi and Tang Gihyo's misdeeds, the branch families could no longer pressure Sanlong; instead, they found themselves under suspicion of having done much the same things themselves, and ended up in the absurd position of having to publicly insist they had never committed such acts.
Worse still, word got out that Tang Woo's own father had helped Eon Jungmi flee, and he was thrown into prison as an accomplice. One of the five households propping up the branch faction had been wiped out entirely.
One might argue that losing one household out of five was no great blow, but what had vanished was not merely a branch family — it was a crack in a balance that had been holding on by a thread. In effect, it meant that Clan Head Tang Munseong's authority and his range of action had just grown considerably. The difference would be small for now, but its influence would spread, bit by bit.
And the man who had accomplished all of this — the former degenerate Tang Sanlong — was spending his days more leisurely than ever before.
"The scenery is lovely today."
"It's the same scenery we see every morning, Mother."
"Is it? Hmm… perhaps that's because I'm looking at it with you."
"Mother, really."
Ever since the news of Eon Jungmi's death, Yu Yanghui had been greeting each morning with remarkable cheer.
"Here, try one of these."
"I'll have one, thank you."
"Go on, then."
Sipping bitter tea while his mother fed him sweet pastries by hand — oddly, it suited them both.
I miss coffee.
It was a drowsy afternoon, and Sanlong was quietly longing for his past life's coffee when Yu Yanghui, gazing at the carp circling the pond, spoke up.
"Your coming-of-age ceremony is coming up soon, isn't it."
"Isn't it next year?"
"Yes, next year. Which is exactly why I've prepared your gift in advance."
There were still months to go before next year — already? Sanlong looked at his mother with puzzlement. Her lips twitched almost imperceptibly, her fingers fidgeted restlessly with her teacup, and even the tips of her feet trembled faintly.
Putting it all together, Sanlong arrived at a conclusion.
Good for her. Bad for me.
Having read her state of mind with uncanny precision, Sanlong subtly began preparing to stand — and Yu Yanghui's eyes, catching the movement, drifted somewhere off to the side.
"My apologies, Young Master."
"Ghk—! Hey! Let go! Let go of me! My shoulder!"
Press.
Tang Yeonghui, appearing from who knows where, bore down on Sanlong's shoulder with crushing force and pinned him to his chair, refusing to let him rise.
"Hey! You're my bodyguard!"
"Third Young Master, you yourself ordered that the Madam's commands take precedence over your own."
"Flexibility! Flexibility! Ow!"
"My apologies."
After the incident, Tang Yeonghui had volunteered to become Sanlong's personal guard, and Tang Chiyeol — who had originally been demoted to that post as a form of disciplinary punishment — returned to his proper position. Sanlong missed the man who'd whiled away the days goofing off with him and now grumbled about it every time they met; today, he missed him dearly.
"Son."
Why did such a gentle summons fill him with such dread? But against his mother's soft hands, Sanlong had no choice but to surrender in the end.
"Haah… what is it now?"
Only then did the color bloom back into her face, and she began rummaging through her things with great purpose.
"Here."
Yu Yanghui held out a thick bundle of papers. Each sheet bore a minutely detailed portrait along with a written description.
"I thought it might be nice to hold your engagement ceremony alongside the coming-of-age rite next year, so I brought these."
At her words, Sanlong suppressed the groan rising from his dantian and replied carefully.
"Mother, I'm a natural-meeting purist."
"A… a natural-meeting what?"
Stumbling over a term she'd never heard in her life, Yu Yanghui froze — and Sanlong decided it was time to educate her in the language of a new generation.
"It means I pursue a meeting that unfolds naturally."
"Is there a girl you're seeing, or one who has caught your interest?"
"No."
At that, the warmth drained from Yu Yanghui's eyes.
"Then say such things after you've met someone."
"Yes, ma'am."
Leaving his frosty mother behind, Sanlong slowly studied the papers. None of the girls were quite beauties, but all of them possessed a graceful elegance — they felt like lesser copies of Yu Yanghui herself.
Has she raised my standards too high?
The looks were similar, but none of them carried that particular air of refinement unique to Yu Yanghui.
"They may not be great houses, but every one is a daughter of a distinguished scholarly family or a general's line. Your grandfather worked hard to find them."
"But Grandfather is still unwell…"
"I stand corrected — he's recuperating splendidly. In fact, it was I who painstakingly whittled this list down."
Facing a mother who left him with nothing to say, Sanlong resolved to deploy his ultimate technique to escape this situation.
"Mother, honestly — none of them appeal to me."
"How can you say that without meeting a single one?"
"I can't be certain from portraits alone, but not one of them can hold a candle to your grace, Mother."
The corners of Yu Yanghui's mouth curled upward, just slightly.
"Still, look through them once more."
She was noticeably less pushy than before. Sanlong feigned careful consideration for a moment, then heaved another deep sigh.
"No matter how I look… there's simply no one who can match you."
"Well, naturally no one can share this mother's grace— ahem, one cannot expect them to."
"I'm sorry, Mother. But I truly wish to marry a woman whose grace resembles yours."
At Sanlong's resolute declaration, Yu Yanghui fought down a smile and slowly gathered up the papers.
"Well then… I suppose there's nothing for it. Your mother will look into it a little further."
"Thank you. I should be heading off to train now, if you'll excuse me."
"Yes, go on — but don't overdo it. You've had a hard time of it lately, haven't you?"
Yu Yanghui gently stroked her son's face, and Sanlong managed to slip away from that hand and make his escape. For Sanlong, no one in the world was harder to deal with than Yu Yanghui.
"Phew… She's never easy, that woman. Let's go."
"Yes, sir."
Sanlong headed straight back to his quarters with Tang Yeonghui. Old, shabby, and small as it was, no place on earth gave him more peace of mind.
"Agh, come on."
At least, until he spotted the guest who had arrived before him.
"What? What is it?"
"Haah…"
Today, as always, Tang Saryeong had arrived with the courtesy of, well, none at all. Sanlong turned to Aeng-hwa.
"How long has she been sitting there?"
"Not long, Young Master."
"I'm starving. Bring me some food."
"Perhaps you should have eaten on the way—"
Leaving Aeng-hwa to mutter quietly as she departed, Sanlong sat down across from Tang Saryeong.
"So why are you here."
"Ahem."
She was fidgeting — clearly she had something to say.
"If you've got something to say, say it fast. I need to eat and then train."
"First of all… I want you to understand that an opportunity like this doesn't come around often."
"Opportunity? What, did Eon Jungmi turn over a new leaf right before she died or something?"
At Sanlong's flat don't feed me nonsense, Tang Saryeong pulled something from her sleeve.
"The Society Leader of our Sichuan Hidden Dragon Society himself — Mae Gukhyeong, son of Provincial Military Commander Mae Gukmyeong — has personally extended you an invitation!"
From the name alone, the man sounded like someone ready to sell out his country, but Sanlong examined the object she'd handed over first. It was a jade tablet, with the words Hidden Dragon Society engraved in intaglio between ornate patterns, in the hand of a master calligrapher.
"Phony Dragon Society?"
Once again, Tang Saryeong took the bait.
"It is NOT the Phony Dragon Society! Si. Chuan. Hidden. Dragon. Society!"
"Where do you get off raising your voice like that! Here, take this—!"
"Don't throw it!"
Having barely restrained himself from hurling the jade tablet at his sister's forehead through desperate, heroic patience, Sanlong quietly studied the thing in his hand instead.
Pretty well made, actually.
For a children's game of pretend, the tablet was astonishingly fine work. He could feel through his fingertips the care of a craftsman who had poured his whole heart into it.
"He invited me?"
"Yeah. Says he wants to see the Poison Fiend in person, or some such… haah."
Tuning out his sister, who was grumbling away to herself, Sanlong picked up his spoon at the meal Aeng-hwa had laid out.
"Why the sudden interest in seeing me?"
"How would I know."
At Tang Saryeong's sniffy retort, Sanlong handed back the tablet and answered with total indifference.
"Not going."
"What?!"
At that, Tang Saryeong launched into a speech about just how extraordinary the Hidden Dragon Society was. She went on until his ears genuinely ached — he honestly couldn't tell whether the food was going down his throat or his nose.
"The Sichuan Hidden Dragon Society is a venerable gathering of the province's rising stars — even Poison Phoenix Tang I-ryeong, currently ranked first among the Nine Dragons and Eight Phoenixes, and Tang Ilryong were once members!"
"So?"
"Being invited to a place like that means you're a rising star recognized by all of Sichuan!"
"Sure. Very impressive."
Tang Saryeong was left speechless by Sanlong's half-hearted reply.
"This is unbelievable. Why do you — and Oryong too — keep refusing such a golden opportunity?"
"Are you still on that with Oryong? If she doesn't want to go, why push her?"
"Ha! Do you live in this world alone? We live by helping one another! For scions of great houses like us, mingling with other clans isn't merely permitted — it's our duty!"
It wasn't wrong, exactly.
"Then you go. Why would Oryong and I need to?"
Seeing no sign of surrender in Sanlong, Tang Saryeong fidgeted like a puppy desperately in need of a walk.
One look told him she was hiding something.
"Tell me the truth, and I'll consider it."
"I did tell the truth!"
"Why are you acting like this? If I'm refusing this hard, normally you'd have just dragged me there by now."
"Well…"
"Out with it before I change my mind."
Tang Saryeong finally squeezed her eyes shut and spoke.
"Tang Soso is… coming."
"Tang Soso? Who's that?"
A branch family member, by the feel of it — the name hovered on the edge of his memory.
Doesn't that sound exactly like the heroine in some martial arts novel?
The name felt strangely familiar, and Tang Saryeong soon resolved the mystery for him.
"She's the one who competes with me for the top spot every single year."
"Ah, a rival."
"A rival? What's that supposed to mean?"
"A worthy opponent. A worthy opponent."
Every now and then, words from his past life slipped out like this, and he'd kick himself for it. Of course, by then Tang Saryeong had already forgotten the oddity and was in full flow.
"Worthy opponent?! I rank higher than her!"
"Right. A friendly competitor. Very healthy."
"Ha! Competitor?! I told you, I rank higher!"
To his sister, huffing with indignation, Sanlong gave a lazy, dismissive reply.
"Fine, fine. But why does her coming matter? If it's a gathering of rising stars, she's free to join, isn't she? She sounds talented just hearing about her."
"A few members left Sichuan recently, so seats opened up in the Society, and everyone agreed to recommend new rising stars of their own."
"And?"
"Word is… the person Tang Soso is bringing is incredible."
Only then did Sanlong finally understand why his sister had been beating around the bush so agonizingly.
"So you're planning to drag me to that tedious gathering just to save face for yourself?"
At the icy edge in Sanlong's voice, Tang Saryeong flinched despite herself.
"And after all that talk about scions of great houses and our noble duty? Unbelievable. Honestly, what am I going to do with you? You don't have any friends, do you?"
"I do!"
Had she hit too close to home? Tang Saryeong suddenly choked up, glaring at him with eyes on the verge of spilling over.
"…Are you about to cry?"
"What would you know!"
It seemed Tang Saryeong had her own quiet struggles when it came to friendship. But short of outright bullying, that was something she'd have to shoulder herself.
Haah…
In the end, Sanlong quietly set his spoon down.
"When is it?"
"Why are you asking when I meet with my friends?!"
"Not that — when is the Phony Dragon— fine, the Hidden Dragon Society meeting?"
"Hee hee… hee hee…"
"Your eyeballs are about to pop out, you know that?"
"Fine!"
Watching Tang Saryeong kick off from her seat and vanish, Sanlong lifted his spoon — then set it right back down.
"And I already finished my food. Agh, seriously…"
His heart had begun to churn, restless and uneasy.