The First Poison King's Identity
The first Poison King's old man trait: loneliness. An elder with no family? No need to explain. Of course, as a member of the Sichuan Tang Clan, he wasn't utterly isolated, but I knew the cliché all too well. A master of that age would be surrounded by sycophants keeping their distance out of reverence. Days when he'd yearn for genuine human connections without all the pomp and ceremony. Then a cheeky kid shows up right in front of him? He can't help but shower them with affection.
Dang Yeonhwa, the Bi Yeon Pavilion Master, had noticed I was carrying the mirror.
"That mirror... don't tell me you've been meddling with Bi Yeon Pavilion's belongings again?"
"No, it's not from Bi Yeon Pavilion. I found it in Myeong Gyeong Hall over there."
"That place falls under my jurisdiction too, as the Pavilion Master."
"Ah, my bad then. Sorry."
Dang Yeonhwa let out a sigh.
"So, you're here to return it?"
"Nah, not exactly. Mind if I borrow it for a bit?"
...Hello? What's your name?
The filthy ghost addressed the Pavilion Master.
"Uweeeek!"
I'd figured she'd cozy up to the new owner better than me, but seeing her repulsive act up close made me want to hurl.
The Pavilion Master turned back to me, as if demanding an explanation.
"Yohwan, what is this...?"
"Yeahyeah, there's a ghost in the mirror, right? I thought it was sketchy too, but it's not a bad one—just kinda cranky. It barks at Tang women like a sex maniac, but nah, it's more like... menhera? Mental fragility? Seems like it has some backstory, y'know? Anyway, could you check out its story? Oh, and right now the important thing is Sohee—she's getting abused by her dad or something! Ah! You know Sohee, right? Anyway, you're the only one I can ask for help, Pavilion Master. So I brought the mirror as a witness too!"
Hard to summarize several chapters' worth.
"...I get it, Yohwan."
"Huh?"
"This mirror houses the soul of a great senior from the jianghu. I'll speak with her, so step out for a moment."
"As expected of the Pavilion Master! You believe me!"
Not that kicking me out of the building entirely was fair, but apparently, since she hadn't held the mirror long, telepathic conversation wasn't possible yet.
'Phew. What a relief.'
To be honest now, I didn't have to learn martial arts from the mirror ghost. What kind of grown man struts around with a hand mirror? What kind of bad luck would that bring? Now that I'd unearthed such a treasure, surely the Pavilion Master would reward me somehow? Of course, saving Sohee came first.
Ikju Poison Divine. Ikju was an old name for Sichuan. When the Tang Clan first renamed their ancestral estate and established themselves as a sect, the name Ikju was widely used.
—That child doesn't know about me, but you do?
Dang Yeonhwa, recognizing the figure the mirror ghost claimed to be, slowly nodded in astonishment.
—Our clan has had many Poison Kings, but only one bore the title Ikju Poison Divine.
'The Poison King who first developed Acid Dissolving Poison.' Yang Gyeongseong. The poison master—indeed, the inaugural Poison King—who was the first in records to earn that title.
—I just never knew she was a woman. Clan legends say she was the founding patriarch's adopted son-in-law.
Since it was a 'legend,' the name Yang Gyeongseong wasn't officially recorded in the genealogy.
—She disguised herself as a man back then, after all. Anyway, for her to end up in that kind of relationship with my junior sister, even if just in stories... fascinating. If I'd been a man, I'd have naturally tied the knot with Elder Dang.
This resolved a long-standing question for the Bi Yeon Pavilion Master. If Yang Gyeongseong was the adopted son-in-law, why was the second family head a woman? As the first patriarch's disciple, she would have been clan in all but name.
—I cut ties with my birth parents and stayed with the Tangs, so to outsiders, it must've looked that way.
The one Dang Yeonhwa referred to as "that person" was the Sichuan Tang Clan's second family head, the owner of the name engraved on the mirror: Dang Wol.
Though Acid Dissolving Poison had devolved into a synonym for tricks today, Dang Yeonhwa—a master of poison arts—knew full well the terror of the original Acid Dissolving Poison the Poison King created and just how genius a poison master she was.
Who else would conceive of disrupting qi flow with poison? The mere idea was outrageously vicious, yet the Poison King's version was devastatingly potent to boot. Existing Acid Dissolving Poisons were mere degraded copies. Even the strongest only affected first-rate experts, but the original worked on even Harmony Realm masters. For context, Harmony Realm was the pinnacle of the era, so jianghu folk—righteous, demonic, or otherwise—feared the Poison King and her poison.
That Acid Dissolving Poison fueled the fledgling Tang Clan's rise. Not widely known, but the true reason demonic forces later tried to wipe out the Tangs was that poison. After the demonic sword assault, the true formula vanished, and the Tangs lost nearly all their male heirs. From then on, they gained infamy as a sect of vengeful women.
Even counting Yohwan as five years old, the inaugural Poison King was ancient, yet her speech was frivolously cheeky. No blood ties, sure, but didn't their endlessly carefree vibes match perfectly? Perhaps similar temperaments drew them together?
—Hmph, who resembles whom? I'm only letting it slide because you're Elder Wol's descendant.
Only then did Dang Yeonhwa realize the mirror ghost could read her mind, startling her.
Annoying.
'Wait, can she read this thought that it's annoying? Then she can read the thought questioning if she can read it, and even the worry about whether she reads that very question...'
—Enough!!
Anyway, that Dang Yohwan left me in your care because of a girl named Dang Sohee. Seems he thought I could convince you.
The mirror ghost had gravely misjudged her as just another poison master, yet somehow pulled off this clever feat. For a woman deeply distrustful of men, it sparked a twinge of pride. Like Elder Wol's husband—useless, but kind-hearted. What good a kind poison master was could wait.
—Dang Sohee? The merchant guild master's daughter?
—Yes. I just came from watching, and that child is... well...
The mirror ghost methodically explained Dang Sohee's plight.
—Are you listening?
—Yes.
A revered poison grandmaster manifesting as a mirror ghost. The owner of lost technology, no less. Etiquette be damned—he was dying to ask about the original Acid Dissolving Poison recipe. The merchant abusing his daughter? Fell on deaf ears.
—So, resolve this quickly.
—I'm no family head. Not my place to meddle in household affairs.
—Plenty of kids in the Tangs, so you'll stand by?
—Frankly, yes. She's not even a real senior—just a ghost in a mirror.
Dang Yeonhwa didn't mince words.
—As an elder, I can't intervene in such matters. Possible, but burdensome.
—Hoho, so you're no saint.
—Sorry to disappoint.
Her father being a poison master might've let elder authority sway things, but Sohee's dad was beyond Dang Yeonhwa's influence.
The mirror ghost had her bait ready.
—What if the girl has talent in martial arts?
...What level of talent?
—You'd have to see for yourself.
She saw the ploy. Why had Yohwan come to her, not the family head? The head would've dismissed it—too busy leading. But the Pavilion Master was idle. Practically retired from jianghu life. Sure, she'd step up in crises, offer advice to the head and juniors now and then to maintain prestige, but that was it.
—Bring the child to Bi Yeon Pavilion.
—From what you said before, she seems to like you.
—Got it! Wait for me, Granny!
I only had free time once a fortnight. Miss today, and Sohee suffered another two weeks.
* * *
Dang Yohwan easily spotted his target. Sohee was playing alone in the street where she'd been running earlier.
"Hey, Dang Sohee! C'mere!"
Pretending haughtily not to hear.
"What's with the shyness between husband and wife!"
Even kids grasp the line between make-believe and reality. Sure, limited intel might fool them into Santa scams, but they know playtime isn't real. By five, they cognitively realize pushing the premise post-game is a bad move.
So why was he insisting on "husband and wife" now, or fabricating "fiancé" earlier? Sohee was dying to know.
"Dang Yohwan, what you said earlier... what did it mean?"
"Huh?"
"You said we were fiancés. What does that mean?"
Yohwan had blurted that husbands, fiancés—same difference. But for a sensitive girl with precocious verbal skills, fiancé and husband were worlds apart.
"What? Fiancés naturally become husband and wife!"
No. Yohwan's Seoul-drenched misjudgment and slip-up. Romance-to-marriage wasn't a given here!
Sure, wuxia protagonists parade harems smitten by their charm—fiction. Chinese folks had long mocked Koreans: 'Look at those Goryeo guys free-dating? Tsk tsk.'
Common marriages followed parental wishes; sects like the Tangs were stricter. Unlike thoughtless pleasure-spawn Yohwan, Sohee's mom had weighed her options before wedding his father.
Sohee knew her mother only from portraits, but Dad confessed multiple times post-mortem: Mom had a prior fiancé. He lamented failing wifely duties. His rants painted Mom as the worst, faithless woman. Couldn't vent publicly, so he dumped it on his hated daughter—selfish, one-sided griping. But to a child, Dad is absolute.
Constant barbs led Sohee to think Mom deserved death. Yet glimpsing other moms, hearing adults praise her late mother, eyeing the handmade baby jacket or the diary heavy with unread words from pregnancy... Sohee felt like a bad kid craving the forbidden.
Yohwan chalked Tang Village's top cutie Sohee hanging with him to her kindness. Wrong. Shared maternal absence was key. 21st-century single-parent woes? Amplified here.
No one to vent to. No one calls for meals mid-play. Torn clothes, scrapes? Maids half-ass it with annoyed faces. Affection deficits worsen with age. Adults' fleeting doting? One-offs. Unlike wild kids, Sohee seemed mature—desperate bid for attention. Her bright facade masked rot from way back.
Even pretend play reflects reality. Girls love house-play, but Sohee's wasn't typical. Girls aren't clueless to power. Boys' hierarchies are rigid; girls wield fluid relations. Example from harmonious homes:
— I told you to come quietly so baby doesn't wake. Why so late? Did you buy what I asked? I can't live like this. Ugh, you're no husband—you're my enemy!
Play mirrors life. In Tang women-dominant homes, astute girls model nagging moms early.
But Sohee, hazy on norms, just yearned vaguely for normalcy—docile wife shadowing hubby. Baring belly, sweet "my lord"—fidelity to the premise.
Fiancé? Mutual liking? 'I like Yohwan, so are we fiancés?'
Too abstract for five. Marriage? Concrete: shared wealth, fluids, life, kids, duty. Cheating? Betrayal. Tangs had more love-marriages, but Sohee rarely saw any. Date in the main house with elders and kids? Insane.
"So, for Yohwan to marry me later, he has to be my fiancé first?"
"Yup!"
Blind frog to the stone, but his offhand toss rocked Sohee. Play's influence? Or first viewing parents from Mom's side.
Mom unhappy sans fiancé marriage. What if she had? Happier? Stayed with Sohee?
...Anyway, marrying a fiancé seemed smarter.
Sohee stared silently; he rolled his eyes.
'Yohwan fits as my fiancé.'
"Anyway, follow me. Pavilion Master said she'd give treats."
Third-rate kidnapper line. Sohee's response: coquetry.
"Hold my hand then."
"What? Dang Sohee, how old are you?"
"Five, like you!"
She giggled; he grumbled but offered his hand readily. Warm. Shadows lifted from Sohee's face following him—pure smiles.
Dang Yohwan was Sohee's closest friend. Family head's son? Lousy runner? Irrelevant. His quirky lines amused. When Tang Family Fist practice cut daily play, she ached.
'Wanna stick together forever...'
So she lent her precious night pearl. Unreturned, but friends trump toys. She'd cling to Yohwan saying "fiancé" first.