Mistaken for the Fourth: The Fifth Son's Fiery Revenge

It was all the brothers' fault. Sure, the Bi Yeon Pavilion Master was a selfish old hag, but hadn't the Mirror Ghost been genuinely concerned for Sohee's well-being? Her cynical tone and nitpicking attitude aside.

So, what happened to your front tooth?

Ah, thanks to a certain aspiring first dentist of the Sichuan Tang Clan, one of my front teeth was missing. Blood naturally dripped from my mouth, with no clotting in sight.

"Thith ith about Thothee—"

"Hold still and wait."

With a deep sigh, the Bi Yeon Pavilion Master vanished somewhere, leaving me behind. Suddenly, the mirror spoke up.

That girl Sohee will be fine.

"Pardon? How do you know?"

Your great-aunt is mistaken. The Blood Cult prefers newborns as sacrificial offerings.

'Is that true?'

Indeed, there's no reason for them to target a five-year-old specifically. Instead of worrying, practice your Tang Family Fist. With hands too clumsy to pick out a single grain of rice, how dare you eye poison techniques?

Her words dug right into my wounds. I grumbled inwardly.

'You don't even have hands or feet yourself.'

By then, the Bi Yeon Pavilion Master had returned with a clean-looking cloth.

"Bite down on this."

I clamped it between my teeth like gauze, and finally, the bleeding stopped. Sitting calmly, I pondered what kind of cinematic direction this mess would get if it were fiction.

'No, that's not it.'

The Bi Yeon Pavilion Master asked me.

"Are you that worried about her?"

"Oh, no. You must be just as troubled, Pavilion Master. I'm sorry."

I said that, but I had no idea what she was truly feeling. For once, the old hag opened up.

"Come to think of it, don't you have a brother in the Hyeongjeong Pavilion?"

Hyeongjeong Pavilion—Sohee must be held there! ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠In the extraterritorial Tang Family Village, it served as police station, prosecutor's office, and intelligence agency all in one. Naturally, they handled investigations related to Blood Cult lackeys.

"My brother?"

Of course, I didn't immediately grasp which one. Besides Dang Jihwan, I had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠three older brothers above him.

"The Second Young Master, Dang Chehwan. I hear he's already vice head of the Hyeongjeong Pavilion at just sixteen."

'Ah, that unlucky bastard.'

The owner of a quirky name that surely carried good intentions. All I remembered was him picking a fight with Dang Jihwan during the ancestral rites last time. Even if their mothers were different and bad blood was the default, starting trouble with a ten-year-younger brother marked him as rotten from the start. Yet, from what the adults said, his reputation wasn't all that bad.

Scratch that—I'd just lied. I had no real connections besides the Bi Yeon Pavilion Master. I knew nothing of Dang Chehwan's reputation or martial prowess. Dang Jihwan's absence stung more than my leaky front tooth.

"If you're close to him, you might be able to get some information."

"Thank you for the advice!"

I bowed deeply, showcasing perfect K-courtesy, and wrapped it up neatly. As I turned to leave Bi Yeon Pavilion, the old hag stopped me.

"Take that mirror with you."

"Pardon?"

"I said take it."

"Wouldn't it help Sohee more? Even if you don't need it."

Setting aside her intentions to return it to me, I wasn't keen. The mirror's loose lips still unnerved me.

Her face twisted in disgust as she spoke.

"···No, a newbie like Sohee can't have two masters."

That was true. A local thug mentor like the Gangnam Seven Wonders could stunt her growth.

Ha, that wench—

Vicious. Had they fought? Of course, as a Fire Transformation Realm expert, the Pavilion Master had no need to learn from the mirror. Grateful, this third-rate nobody scooped it up.

"Farewell, Pavilion Master!"

As expected, the mirror began complaining from my pocket.

That woman keeps eyeing my special poison without knowing her place!

"Special poison, huh? Sounds intriguing."

Now was the time to soothe it. Anyway, sleep was the last thing on my mind. With rumors of Sohee in the Hyeongjeong Pavilion, I had to check it out.

I knew where it was. No real bond with Dang Chehwan, but I'd leverage brotherly ties and schmooze my way in.

'Mirror, got a question. If your little brother showed up while you're working at the Hyeongjeong Pavilion, how would you feel?'

Why ask me?

It was simple. Humble folks have personality, but being uniquely obnoxious takes skill.

Ah, you think my reaction matches your second brother, don't you?

Our mirror was rude and ill-tempered, but not clueless.

'Yeah, he has that same greatness about him.'

Flattery doesn't suit you. Still, at five years old...

And he had the fine trait of ignoring trivialities.

I'd ignore you.

'Ignore?'

No Hyeongjeong Pavilion existed in my time. But why waste time on a brat like you for some errand?

'Figured as much.'

Now that I have no hands or feet, I'm playing nanny against my fate, but back then...

'Thanks, that helped.'

After a hard run, I arrived at the Hyeongjeong Pavilion. Using my brother as an excuse, I sweet-talked the guards and somehow entered the building. But I couldn't wander alone; adults escorted me straight to Dang Chehwan's office.

"Vice Head, your younger brother is here to see you."

The number two, buried in documents, looked up at me.

"Dang Jihwan?"

He called out in confusion—the name of number four.

The Mirror Ghost gleefully pointed it out.

He doesn't recognize you?

'Watch and learn. Mistakes like this set a non-awkward tone.'

Dealing with elders using past-life wisdom? I had confidence. After all, I was the youngest son of the Tang family head. Youngest means cheeky, cheeky means youngest—that equation held.

"Take a good look. Aren't I your youngest brother?"

"Yeah, Dang Jihwan. I don't know why you're here, but get lost. This isn't a playground for brats like you."

"Brother, I—"

"Dang Jihwan! Don't you dare meddle further, you lowborn from the Yang branch! For you to be Father's youngest is the family's shame! Stick to Tang Family Fist and crawl back to your maternal clan!"

He might not recognize my face. Coming from the distant future, I knew all about prosopagnosia. Snubbed? Ignored? Expected. He was working, and we were distant. Uncooperative in protecting Sohee? Fine. I was a deeply understanding, mature five-year-old.

But how the hell did 'Dang Jihwan = youngest' compute?!

'Wait, this guy really doesn't know me?'

I'd suspected, but Dang Chehwan not only mistook me for Jihwan—he had no clue I was the youngest!

'Dementia at sixteen? No, I saw him at the rites last time.'

The workers, hearing the eviction order from outside, grabbed and hauled me out like a drunken reveler.

"Then, Second Young Master, please leave."

They dumped me unceremoniously at the gate.

But what crushed my soul wasn't the rough treatment.

'Even his subordinates don't know me?'

The mirror joyfully mocked my plight.

Hahaha, you must have a talent for stealth. Even your own brother doesn't know you—perfect for infiltrating anywhere, that 'gift.'

I was too stunned for a retort. Trembling. More shocking than losing the tooth half a shichen ago. Teeth regrow, but how to restore the Fifth Young Master's aura?

Confusing me with Jihwan? Understandable. I was magnanimous, and just a year apart—honestly, I couldn't distinguish the First, Second, or Third by face alone, only build. But mixing up 4 and 5? 4 is 2 squared, composite and even; 5 is prime!

Prime? What does being the fifth have to do with prime demonic arts...

Primes really were lonely numbers. Even the usually cheerful Mirror Ghost offered no comfort.

I recited a classic adage.

Of course, not literally dying, but it emphasized how vital social recognition was. I wasn't even recognized, let alone acknowledged.

What, gonna kill your 'brother' for not recognizing you?

"Nah, not to that extent."

I lacked the ability anyway. The mirror, unversed in logic, missed my point. What always holds in propositions? Counterexamples. If no one recognizes you, you're no scholar. Clearly, I wasn't one. No Jegal Clan scholar in the Tangs. I was five—just unlocking the courage to be hated. If a brother erased my existence, I'd become the world's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠most vicious ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠little brother.

Our family motto: If struck, repay tenfold—no more, no less. Ten times five is fifty. As Fifth Young Master, I'd repay fiftyfold.

Revenge? With what, in your position?

Her excited tone was oddly thrilled.

'Plenty of ways.'

Among the schemes flooding my mind, what would dent Dang Chehwan's social standing? I chose arson.

"Wheee~"

After gathering momentum in my room, I stayed up till midnight. The embers from my room's brazier then spread to the Hyeongjeong Pavilion.