The Patriarch's Fishing Escape
Dang Jeongseok, the vice head of the punishment hall, had a hobby: fishing. Not the highbrow pastime of murim warriors like catching bountied bandits to to the authorities, shaking down bandits for protection money, or intimidating them into submission. No, actual fishing—hooking fish from the water. Back during his days wandering the jianghu, he'd stumbled upon the thrill of that hand-trembling bite and never forgotten it. Even after settling down in the clan as vice head, he hadn't let go of the hobby.
He'd never hidden it, either. Everyone in Tang Family Village knew the punishment hall vice head was fishing-obsessed. A hobby was just a hobby, after all. Today, too, he was reporting to his older brother, the family head.
"...No special incidents?"
"Ah, tomorrow, Young Master Moyong is sending word that he'll visit the clan with his daughter."
The family head scowled deeply at the news.
"Does that guy have something left in our care or what? Why's he coming to us?"
"Haha, he's always been clueless like that."
The brothers were united in trash-talking the man: Moyong Jae, the only son of the Sword Lord and head of the Moyong family. Sure, he was called "young master," but he wasn't some late-stage disciple—he was the family head's peer, having crossed paths with him back in their own late-stage disciple days. Even the Murim Alliance couldn't just notify the Sichuan Tang Clan unilaterally; that was the reality.
"Still, the Sword Lord's granddaughter happens to be around the same age as our nephews, right? And that guy's daughter matches their age perfectly."
"Moyong Jae's daughter—that is, the Sword Lord's granddaughter—is coming along too."
Naturally, it was about political marriage. The Sword Lord's granddaughter was no bad match for an engagement. Perfect age to pair with the nephews. Dang Jeongseok smiled, figuring his brother got the point.
"By the way, how's Mihee's daughter doing?"
"You mean Dang Sohee? Why not ask Great Aunt directly? Don't tell me you two actually fought or something..."
The family head and Bi Yeon Pavilion master's residences weren't even fifty jang apart. No matter how distant their relationship, for even casual well-wishes to not pass between them?
"Anyway, we're set to receive Moyong Jae tomorrow, right, brother?"
Without a firm answer, Family Head Dang Myeongseok abruptly stood and left. Off to rummage through old books tied to the Blood Cult again, no doubt. Dang Jeongseok watched with pitying eyes, quietly clicking his tongue at the foolishness. Three enviable wives, yet obsessed with a woman from the past. That temperament probably made him relentlessly obsessive in poison arts too.
The next day, the punishment hall vice head paced anxiously in the reception hall, waiting for the family head. Finally, he snapped at a servant standing nearby.
"Where the hell is brother? Young Master Moyong will be here any minute—where is he?"
"The family head has gone out."
"What? Out? With guests arriving soon, where the hell did he go?"
Before the stern-faced vice head, the servant bowed his head and continued reluctantly.
"I don't know the destination. But the family head said to relay a message to you..."
A hesitant finger pointed to a paper on the desk. Dang Jeongseok unfolded it. Just a few characters were scrawled there.
[I entrust it to you]
"This bald bastard..."
Suppressing the rising fury at his brother's irresponsibility, Dang Jeongseok turned and declared to the servants.
"Brother... is in secluded training right now! Tell the guests he's deep in crucial cultivation to break through to the Mysterious Realm!"
It was a forced excuse, but it fit murim etiquette perfectly. The Mysterious Realm—the ideal realm every martial artist dreamed of. What could anyone do if he was striving for that? No one could fault the absence with that alibi.
Of course, it wasn't comfortable for Dang Jeongseok either, having everything dumped on him. Stepping in for the family head at major external events was prime material for the elders to accuse him of overstepping later. His brother trusted him enough to leave it all, so no real issues, but arguing with elders was a hassle. He crumpled the note in his fist, grinding his teeth.
Time until the Moyong guests arrived was dwindling. Dang Jeongseok racked his brain. No matter how he stared at the paper, it didn't specify who exactly he was "entrusting" it to. The moment that thought hit, he summoned his nephew.
"Uncle, what's the matter?"
"Chehwan, brother entrusted this reception to you. Greet the incoming Young Master Moyong, Moyong Jae."
"Pardon? Uncle, is that true?"
Not twitching an eyebrow, the vice head pressed on with the lie.
"Yes. He delegated full authority for entertaining the Moyong family—to you, specifically."
"Telling me on the day of—it's so sudden. Why not say earlier?"
"Out with it! It's to cultivate the quick thinking every Tang clansman should have!"
Second Young Master Dang Chehwan was outstanding in martial arts but couldn't tell faces apart well and had some socially oblivious quirks. As a kid, he loved being acknowledged.
"Father... chose me..."
Not every jianghu warrior was slick with people. The murim world was society too—even the world's best could be slandered and despised. In huge sects, you rubbed elbows enough, but pure training obsessives could lack social savvy. In that sense, while Dang Chehwan's inaction was average for a direct Tang scion, the vice head overflowed with talent and experience handling people—especially motivating subordinates.
"Nail this, and you might leapfrog First Young Master as next family head candidate."
"I'll do my utmost, Uncle!"
"That's the spirit!"
Patting his trembling, nephew's shoulder a few times, the vice head bolted from the building. With light steps, he headed straight for the fishing spot—not even half a shichen away with lightness skill.
Thus, the story of how Dang Chehwan ended up with the armband by midday.
Dang Chehwan knew the task was beyond his twenty-some years. But knowing one's limits was the start of true greatness. The clan's promising talent immediately sought aides: direct kin, jianghu authority figure, elder whose dignity wouldn't falter greeting Moyong Jae. The intersection? Only Bi Yeon Pavilion master.
"Bi Yeon Pavilion master! Help just this once!"
"...Sigh. The family head's slacking off again, huh."
Thus, the story of how Dang Chehwan donned the armband and called his brothers by midday.
Inside were not just Dang Jihwan but even Third Brother, whom I hadn't seen in a while. Dang Chehwan lined us three kids up and ranted at length.
"Others say we fight because our mothers differ, but I don't think so. Can't we rely on each other like Father and Uncle, live as harmonious brothers?"
His arrogant tone, as if he were already family head, darkened Dang Jihwan's face. Third Young Master was stoic, hard to read, but probably felt the same—he was First Young Master's brother, after all. Even I chafed at Dang Chehwan's baseless confidence and arrogance. But getting swayed by feelings was second-rate; my knees were already grinding into the wooden floor.
"Brother's absolutely right!"
As a first-rate actor, I played the compliant little brother to suit the picky dictator's taste. No special reason. To betray, first earn total trust. I decided to play along with Dang Chehwan for now.
'Just you wait, Dang Chehwan. When the moment's critical, I'll trip you up good!'
...And snag some spare elixirs as a bonus.
Dang Jihwan asked, "Is it true the Sword Lord's granddaughter is coming along?"
"Yes. Word is he dotes on his daughter. While we adults talk, you kids keep her happy. Dismissed!"
Then it clicked—why Dang Chehwan called us. To entertain that little girl.
Bi Yeon Pavilion master slyly added to the trash talk, "Rumor has it Moyong Yeong—that girl—is awfully arrogant and ill-mannered."
Seeing Sohee quietly by her side, I asked, "So that's why Sohee's here too?"
Makes sense—even at three or four, kids prefer playing boy-with-boy, girl-with-girl.
"Something like that?"
Offering Sohee as playmate if the bratty girl hates boys? 'Whoa, for real?'
I shuddered at Dang Chehwan's devious idea. 'Fine, use siblings as tools, but why drag Sohee in? Is she your subordinate?'
My habitual grumble got no mirror reply in my head—I'd left it behind. Then, something cold touched my neck.
Assassination!
...Not really. It was Bi Yeon Pavilion master's nail accessory, aimed at my back.
"Gyaack!"
I'd never seen her wear such a thing—dolled up for guests?
Yohwan, please don't cause trouble this time.
"Me? Really?"
Dang Yohwan causing trouble? Impossible. But she's grandma, so I'll humor her. True to old lady form, Bi Yeon Pavilion master was overprotective.
"The guests are arriving."
Shortly after the servant announced to Dang Chehwan, in walked the Moyong guest. A warrior with broad shoulders like the vice head.
"Haha, who's this? Second Young Master. Your feats at last Yongbong Assembly feel like yesterday."
Dang Chehwan bowed politely to the guest.
"Circumstances have me hosting Great Hero Moyong in Father's stead."
"The family head must be proud of such a reliable son. Yeong-ah, what are you doing? Greet the Second Young Master."
That's when my eyes met the girl hiding behind her dad's legs. She had long twin pigtails dangling down.