Lesson 1: The Mirror Ghost's Teachings
Lesson 1 from the Mirror Ghost began with a question-and-answer session while I lay bedridden.
<Do you know how many acupoints there are on the human body?>
"Hmm? Around a hundred, maybe?"
The Mirror Ghost shot back with an air of ridicule.
<There are at least three hundred, you little brat.>
Got it. I had no clue. No children's acupuncture comics in my past life—how was I supposed to know?
The Mirror Ghost continued methodically.
Huangdi Neijing lists three hundred and sixty-five, and there are also the ashi points.>
I nodded along as I listened. 'One a day, and I'll have them memorized in a year.'
The Mirror Ghost immediately retorted as if I'd said something absurd.
<What kind of nonsense is that? A year has three hundred and sixty-four days. Even in a leap year, it's only about three hundred and eighty-five. How could a year possibly have three hundred and sixty days?!>
Agh—damn lunar calendar.
<More importantly, Dang Yohwan, what is your goal in learning martial arts?>
Sharp question for a ghost. Part of me thought she was just showing off her medical knowledge, but I took a deep breath and answered.
'I need to get strong enough that anyone who messes with me regrets it.'
After some serious thought, I realized no matter how I sliced it, I wasn't this world's protagonist. Fifth son of the Tang Clan? Could there be a more extra-like trait? Even if there was a main character somewhere, my choices shaped my open-world fate. I'd given my all so far for the goal of getting stronger, but after nearly dying from that elixir, meaningless grind felt like it'd drive me neurotic. All the neglect I'd suffered? Wiped clean from my mind. Rolling in dog shit beats the afterlife, as they say.
<Is that all?>
'Agh, in this dog-eat-dog world, I at least need to protect myself.'
Realizing I'd skipped something crucial, I quickly added,
'And Sohee too.'
<Puhahahahaha!>
'You're actually going to teach me, right?'
I'd been mocking her desperately for days, half-worried she'd bail, but no usual scolding came back.
<No, I thought that was a pretty solid poison mindset, actually.>
What? Sudden praise?
<Poison is the weak's specialty. Even the Five Poison Sect, with nothing to their name, terrifies the world, doesn't it?>
I asked seriously,
'The Five Poison Sect isn't that big a deal, though, right?'
It was common knowledge even to a five-year-old that they ranked second to the Tang Clan in poison. I didn't know much, but skipping Tang Family Fist seemed like an upgrade.
<How dare you! How can a direct descendant spout such nonsense? They know less medicine than the grime under my master's toenail—a foolish lot ensnared by cults like the Blood Cult!>
The Five Poison Sect tied to the Blood Cult? I'd ask Bi Yeon Pavilion Master about that later. Anyway, the Mirror Ghost had fiercer Tang Clan pride than I'd expected.
'Yeah, yeah, our family's the best at poison.'
Careful not to ruffle her feathers, I smoothly changed the subject.
'You said you're the Poison King's direct disciple, right? You must know all about the clan's founder?'
<My master's clan handled Great Tang's intelligence network.>
I jolted in surprise at her words.
'Great Tang... as in, the Tang Dynasty?'
<Yes. They were limbs of the Li farmers from the agrarian records, but reformed into a clan as the imperial house weakened.>
I vaguely recalled the Li family, but Emperor Taizong of Tang—Li Shimin—I remembered clear as day. The guy who crushed Goguryeo and Baekje!
<Yes, I heard Taizong founded it, but even I don't know much from that era...>
'Whoa! That's insanely cool!!!'
The Sichuan Tang Clan's roots as Tang Dynasty KGB? My heart pounded with the weight of that epic history. Puzzle pieces of unease clicked into place. An international spy org explained the shady arsenal: poisons, hidden weapons, assassination arts.
...And here I was, from the Gyeongju Kim clan! Goguryeo and Baekje's fall? Good riddance!
'I get that Tang fell, but how'd you all end up in Sichuan? Or was it Yizhou back then?'
<Local governors acted like kings everywhere, and the Khitans raided from the north constantly—the capital was a mess.>
In other words, the beautiful era when China split into multiples. Khitans—probably the Liao, right?
<...I don't follow, but Master and Junior Sister Wol settled in Sichuan to avoid the chaos.>
The Murim Alliance's beef with the Demonic Cult started post-Song founding, so this was prehistory. Kids in the Tang Clan learned the rest: Alliance vs. Demonic Cult was ongoing.
Context grasped, I fired off my burning question.
'So, what's the origin of the Tang Family Fist, anyway?'
I buzzed with excitement, awaiting her answer. A spy group's special art, yet it was so straightforward and inefficient.
<When Master's kin migrated to Yizhou, Junior Sister Wol married a local man. Tracing the lineage, Tang Family Fist comes from that man's fist technique.>
'Aha.'
So the Tangs went son-in-law system from the start? Sounded more like grafting for local adaptation than talent. Meaning Sichuan Tang martial arts built on ancestors' advanced medicine, poisons, and stealth atop native fistwork. Hence Tang Family Fist as the clan's weakest trash skill.
As I mulled that, the Mirror Ghost objected.
<You seem to look down on Tang Family Fist, but at your age, practicing it isn't bad.>
'What? Is it secretly OP? Master it and become a powerhouse?'
<No, it's ordinary and common.>
'Exactly. Total time sink.'
To my snap, she tossed a curveball.
<Why do you think assassins rarely hail from the Demonic Cult or unorthodox sects?>
Why's Full Sky Flower Rain Tang-exclusive? Few factions matched our throwing fame.
'Throwing weapons are super inefficient, right?'
<Want to die?>
'Ah, because no one matches Tang hidden weapons?'
wanryu gwijong?>
Top wuxia proverb: Master one, master all. Like Ohtani being tall, two-way MLB beast, rich as hell, hot wife—whatever.
But she meant Tang Family Fist was our Ohtani.
'Wait, learning Tang Family Fist helps with hidden weapons?'
Seamlessly possessing me, she flung open the window and leaped out.
Crisp autumn breeze. Sichuan's fall felt nicer than Korea's yellow dust haze. In the lovely garden, she swung my arms. Early training kept me flexible—nice stretch.
'Hitting a cow at a hundred paces or snaring a sparrow at arm's length—which is easier? Think.'
<Arm length or talent-dependent?>
'Close. You've grasped the core.'
<Ahem!>
She meant martial arts distance sense. Stick close against long swords, etc.—range matters per style. Without rubber fruit, sword/kick/spear are arm extensions. Throwing? Infinite range potential. It flies.
<Pause—what's the issue?>
'For you, faster to master a hundred weapons or one?'
<Aha...>
Hidden weapons/non-projectiles have high freedom, hard to level up?
'Tang Family Fist narrows options, leverages arm limits—advantageous.'
<Got it. Tang Family Fist aids hidden weapon training.>
If right, she nailed the clan's essence without practicing it herself. Impressive insight.
<Tang Family Fist is minor, but...>
She gathered pond pebbles.
'Like this.'
Full Sky Flower Rain erupted again—visibly fiercer than last time.
As if to let me feel it, she yielded control.
Pebbles scattered everywhere, but within my arm's reach surged omnipotence. Embodied proficiency, fruits of grueling Tang Family Fist drills. I clenched and unclenched my fist, lost in indescribable thrill.
"This... is Full Sky Flower Rain..."
One oversight: we trained in the physician's front garden.
"Fifth Young Master, rest up—!"
A medic sister spotted me, charging over.
"Gahhh!"
Tang medic girls crush peak first-raters easy. They handle tough patients—and yeah, they trained Tang Family Fist.
Before I could react, she struck my acupoint mid-stride.
"Do you know how expensive that koi is?! Play Full Sky Flower Rain in moderation!"
Needle hit; strength drained instantly.
<Now, where did she strike?>
'You poison hag! You haven't taught me yet!'
'Meaning I was in danger?!?!'
<Didn't know? Acupoint strikes are inherently risky.>
So theory lessons continued from my patient bed—until one day, I got suddenly summoned.
"A guest?"
"Yes, a guest."
Bi Yeon Pavilion Master yanked me from the clinic, insisting I greet visitors. Aftereffects gone, faking illness felt lame anyway.
"From the Moyong Clan."
Moyong? One of the Five Great Clans, right? No idea why Sohee and I were needed for her guest, but auntie said go, so we went.
Entering the reception room, a familiar figure caught my eye.
"Dang Chehwan...?"
"Been well, brats?"
The king bastard, grudge undigested, leered down at Sohee and me with his usual sleazy gaze.