Chapter 204
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 204
Chapter Title: An Old Grudge (3)
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Amid the oppressively heavy silence.
Peng Heirin confronted a colossal terror she'd never felt in her life.
She desperately rolled her eyes toward her father, the head of the Hebei Peng Clan, Peng Gong.
But he merely gazed back at her with a complicated expression, showing no intention of intervening.
"Don't look away."
Geum Sihyeon's hand seized her chin, forcibly aligning her gaze with his.
The moment she locked eyes again with those pupils wreathed in crimson flames like the fires of hell, Peng Heirin's breath caught in her throat.
- Can I call you baby?
She'd thought it was just a trivial request.
Having secretly harbored feelings for Moyong Wicheon, she'd granted his mother Sima Ran's favor, never imagining it would escalate to this catastrophe.
Even so.
Poisoning her own stepdaughter?
But even if she confessed everything here and now, how could she possibly prove it?
She might end up branded a jealous madwoman, shouldering all the blame.
If that was the case.
Better to deny it outright.
"No, really, it's not...!"
Peng Heirin pleaded her innocence in a trembling voice.
"...A lie, then."
The moment she heard that utterly flat yet seething-with-restrained-fury baritone, her heart plummeted.
And then.
Though she had no idea how, the instant she uttered the falsehood, Peng Heirin felt a bizarre sensation as if her very soul was being chipped away.
No, no...
I can't lie to this man...
She couldn't explain why, but the horrific premonition that another lie would doom her irrevocably...
"Th-that is, the truth is..."
She resolved to spill every detail she knew.
But.
"..., ...!"
Her mouth gaped, but no sound escaped.
On the contrary.
"Agh...!"
Suddenly, an alien vise gripped her heart, accompanied by agony as if her entire body was being torn asunder.
"You're intimidating her too much—"
As Peng Heirin's face drained of color, Peng Gong finally stepped forward.
"Wait, just a moment."
Moyong Danha's words halted Peng Gong in his tracks.
Seizing the distraction, Geum Sihyeon subtly invoked Air Grasp, slipping a single pill into Peng Heirin's mouth unnoticed.
And then, he unleashed a feat he'd never attempted before—but one he felt certain he could now achieve.
Moments later.
"Gah—!"
Peng Heirin vomited violently, and Geum Sihyeon's hand moved swiftly to extract his prize with minimal mess.
"Look. This was sealing your lips. Now you can speak the truth freely."
Even as she dry-heaved, Peng Heirin's eyes fixed on the palm Geum Sihyeon held aloft.
Atop it.
"—!"
A tiny insect writhed, spewing venom.
Peng Heirin's complexion turned ghostly pale.
Soon after.
"Heavens."
"A solitary venom bug...!"
"How could a Peng Clan daughter harbor a solitary venom bug?"
Not just Peng Heirin—everyone at the banquet gasped in horror at the sight.
"Now, speak."
Despite the uproar, Geum Sihyeon's low voice reverberated in Peng Heirin's ears.
"I-I didn't know it was poison...! It felt wrong to deliver it myself, so Lady Stepmother said to pass it off as a medicinal snack..."
With the compulsion lifted, the truth poured from her lips.
In that instant.
All eyes turned to one place.
Toward Sima Ran, the Moyong Family's matriarch, seated at the head table—radiating icy detachment amid the chaos.
Moyong Seol dreamed a long dream.
An unhappy one.
After her birth mother died.
The bitch who devoured her mother.
The bitch who would ruin the family.
The bitch who should never have been born.
The bitch with filthy barbarian blood.
Days of enduring every vile insult and scorn.
Insidious bullying, hidden from all eyes, gnawed away at her young heart bit by bit.
As she grew older and came to understand the weight a clan held in this world...
Though one corner of her mind comprehended the hatred directed at her, she couldn't fully endure it.
Thus, she chose not to remain and uphold the family, but to head for the fledgling Hundred Flowers Academy—doubting it would last even a few years.
Her heart was deeply uneasy.
What would become of Moyong Taek if she left?
Could that snot-nosed kid truly manage?
Even so.
- Good thinking.
In Moyong Seol's memory, it was probably the first time.
The first smile from her eldest stepmother.
.
.
.
What followed.
Was a dull dream.
In truth, academy life wasn't all that fun.
Even far away, the "barbarian bitch" label clung like a tail whenever she let her guard down.
When some fool smitten by her looks courted her, the girl he'd fancied cursed her out.
After a few unwelcome repeats.
Behind titles like Four Beauties or Three Flowers she never sought came the infamy of a man-trap slut.
Whatever.
She could just smash their heads in sparring.
The bitches who yapped endlessly shut up after a beating—perfect motivation to hone her martial arts.
So while others drowned in romance and springtime bliss, she swung her sword.
No dirty looks for practicing family swordsmanship.
No complaints about her already cold aura scattering frost arts.
That alone made life at Hundred Flowers Academy decent enough.
Just a bit boring.
.
.
.
Next came.
A joyful dream.
When that wondrous device, the smartphone, first appeared.
For her, with scant human contact, it became a splendid outlet to vent all the emotions she'd bottled up.
There, no one judged her by looks.
No one debated her bloodline.
No one weighed her words with the burden of clan prestige.
Quite...
Enjoyable time.
Of course.
She wasn't "Ice Kyungdu" from the start.
Trying various handles, browsing tales, bantering without true connection...
She'd unknowingly found the self she truly wished to be, to show the world.
The endpoint of that journey.
Always bright, cheerful, smile unending.
A version quite different from reality's Moyong Seol.
As her thoughts reached that point.
She sensed the dream fading.
And finally recalled: just before dreaming, she'd been wracked by deadly poison, teetering on death's edge.
So upon waking.
One of two.
Fall to the underworld and behold Yama's face.
Or...
With a sliver of hope, Moyong Seol opened her eyes.
The first sight wasn't Yama's bushy-bearded mug.
It was Geum Sihyeon's face, slightly gaunt, etched with exhaustion that somehow tripled his handsomeness.
Her body felt limp.
...But better than that night of rolling till dawn, learning firsthand about excess.
"Baby Ice Dujang is up..."
Relief flooded Moyong Seol's lips, baby talk spilling unbidden.
And then.
"..."
"..."
Turning from Geum Sihyeon's face filling her view, she beheld.
Moyong Taek heaving, and Moyong Wicheon averting his gaze behind a hand.
Thud, thud!
Her next move was swift.
Before dying of shame, self-acupressure to sleep.
Thus.
Ice Dujang-nim slumbered once more.
Only after a thorough check confirming no lingering toxins in her dantian could I exhale in relief.
Baby Ice Dujang...?
She'd clearly abandoned humanity.
But what could I do.
She was mine now; enduring a bit of clinginess befitted a gentleman's grace.
...Honestly, when she first coughed blood.
For a fleeting instant.
I'd wondered if blue-balling led to qi deviation.
But today's display suggested I bore some blame too, so maybe ease restrictions on her gallery free speech.
Just vent anonymously outside.
A cool beauty noona's baby babble was too gap-moe even for excuses.
Anyway, she woke, kicked off the sweat-damp sheets, and I assigned the Moyong crew guard duty as penance for their sister's sins.
Off to the patriarch's quarters.
There sat Father-in-Law, face half-withered overnight, eyes closed.
Not stroked out from rage, I hoped.
"...Don't hold it against the family."
Seemed not.
"It's my wife's family too."
"Not yet."
"Still, as your son-in-law to be, can't I at least see my mother-in-law?"
At my words, Moyong Danha finally opened his eyes to regard me.
His gaze seemed to ask.
- You planning to kill her here?
"Just talk."
"...Hm."
My guess spot-on; he eyed me sharply before waving me off.
I bowed, exited, and headed to the adjacent building guarded by Moyong warriors.
No one barred me, likely from seeing where I'd come from.
"Pardon the intrusion."
I entered the room where Sima Ran—house-arrested, the scent of sedative incense thick as mosquito coils—lounged.
"...Barbarian scum sticking together, huh."
True to Sima form, her tongue was bold as the Eight Princes' Revolt.
Not here for petty spats, though.
I erected a barrier.
Impenetrable even to Moyong Danha.
Only then.
"...How can you circulate qi?"
Sima Whatever noticed the shift.
She might resist if she could muster qi, but dosed on sedative toxin like bug spray...
"Geum Sihyeon vi Britannia commands."
"What?"
"Confess how you obtained the poison and whose orders drove this plot. Everything."
Geass fired from my eyes.
No evil sorcery like mind control.
A proper technique derived from Heavenly Demon Divine Art.
.
.
.
Five minutes later.
Kindly memory-wiped her via acupoints, and for good measure, embedded demonic qi in her dantian to crush any funny ideas.
I left Sima Ran's room, mulling complex thoughts.
Next destination set.
Sorry to Hwi-hyung, but...
Time to settle the grudge with Nangong Xiongzhuk for good.