Dear Sisters
The banquet had already reached its second day, and almost everyone who was expected to arrive had done so. This included Moyong Geon, who had come as the representative of the Murim Alliance. Having arrived alongside the members of the White Tiger Unit, he was sitting on pins and needles despite the festive atmosphere.
"Vice Commander, is there really any need to worry so much? You've come as a representative of the Alliance, after all. Would they really dare treat a guest of your stature carelessly?"
"You never know. Some lunatic might just charge at me out of nowhere, screaming about taking me down with him."
"With your skills, Vice Commander, you'd easily beat down any lunatic like that. Besides, what master in their right mind would pull a stunt like that?"
"...Is that so?"
Hearing his subordinate's words, Moyong Geon felt his mind ease slightly. As long as he was careful about what he ate—this being the Tang Clan, after all—he might actually walk out of here on his own two feet. Frankly, it was absurd to think anyone would dare mistreat him, a member of the Nine Dragons and Six Phoenixes and the direct heir of the Moyong Clan. Although he had unilaterally broken off the engagement after seeing Tang Ga-hee's hideous, ruined face, in the end, it was a decision made by his family. Even if they held a grudge, surely they wouldn't want to outright murder him.
Moreover, the heavy sensation in his pocket put his mind further at ease.
It's a high-grade Avoid-Poison Pearl from the Murim Alliance. At the very least, I won't have to worry about being poisoned.
Unless they were truly bent on killing him, that is. He had already paid his respects to the Patriarch, so there was no further reason to entangle himself with the Tang Clan. He would briefly meet Tang Ga-hee, who was supposed to show her recovered self today, and then return to the Murim Alliance. There was no need to worry. Instead, he should focus on how to pay back the enemy who had forced him into this situation. Moyong Geon steeled his resolve for revenge, thinking of Moyong Gon, who had sent him here.
To send me into a death trap like this... Brother, I will make sure you pay dearly for this.
The Murim Alliance wasn't stupid. They wouldn't just hand over someone who was clearly the target of a grudge as a representative without some precautions. They had provided him with the Avoid-Poison Pearl and even some highly effective detoxifying medicine. In truth, the Alliance hadn't wanted to send him either, but since the Moyong Clan knew about the 'Tang Clan's invitation' and had requested to send him so he could apologize, how could they refuse? Although the Murim Alliance was a coalition of orthodox sects, making enemies of two of the Five Great Noble Clans over a single Vice Commander would have been too much of a burden.
While he understood the Alliance's position, this incident made one thing absolutely clear to Moyong Geon.
In the end, I must become the Patriarch of the Moyong Clan. The Murim Alliance is merely a stepping stone.
Unless he became the Alliance Leader, the Murim Alliance was nothing more than a temporary stop. Even if he managed to become a high-ranking official, he could never be on good terms with Moyong Gon, who would rule the Moyong Clan, so the Alliance would ultimately hesitate to grant him a position of real power. From the Alliance's perspective, it was far easier to secure support by appointing skilled martial artists who maintained good relations with their respective clans and sects, rather than someone difficult to handle like himself. Paradoxically, this harrowing experience only served to solidify Moyong Geon's resolve to seize control of his family.
"By the way, I'm getting a bit hungry. Why don't we head over to that street stall? The sign says they specialize in Sichuan's signature spicy flavor. Since we've come all the way from Hubei, we ought to try the local specialty."
"Haha. Sure. Let's go."
Moyong Geon draped an arm around his close subordinate's shoulder and spoke with a grin.
"But you're paying."
"...I don't have any money! Besides, you should be the one paying, Vice Commander! You received travel expenses!"
"We don't know when we might need that money, so we can't just spend it. Let's just use yours."
"Do you have any idea how small my salary is..."
In the end, lacking the courage to defy the great Vice Commander's order, the subordinate paid. After all, one never knew how things would turn out in life.
This foolish man might actually become the master of the Moyong Clan one day. It wouldn't do to get on his bad side.
Though he felt genuinely wronged, the subordinate consoled himself by viewing it as an investment in an uncertain future. In truth, he didn't particularly like Moyong Geon either. He was a difficult boss—behaving like a young, arrogant traditionalist who lacked any real wits outside of his martial talent. The only saving grace was that he wasn't cruel, which made him tolerable to hang around. Who knew? If by some miracle he became the master of the Moyong Clan in the future, some crumbs might fall his way. Living as a warrior of the Murim Alliance, this level of worldly wisdom was basic survival.
It was just as they finished ordering and sat down to wait for their food.
Splash!
"Oh dear... My hand... slipped."
Standing there was Tang Hwi, holding an upside-down liquor bottle in direct contradiction to his words.
After paying his respects to Tang Suryeon, Tang Hwi had been tailing Moyong Geon as he wandered around the festival grounds. Suppressing his presence, blending into the crowd, and naturally pretending to be a passerby was child's play for him.
Upon seeing Moyong Geon take a seat at a spacious street stall designed to look like a tavern alongside a member of the White Tiger Unit, Tang Hwi quickly began downing alcohol as if pouring it down his throat. He disheveled his clothes and messed up the hair that the maids had so neatly arranged. The strong scent of alcohol rapidly clinging to his body made him look like a thoroughly drunken rascal to anyone who saw him.
Although he was currently performing excellently as the general manager of the event, his reputation as a rascal still lingered. Thus, appearing in such a state wouldn't raise any eyebrows, and Tang Hwi didn't care enough about his pride to pass up using such a perfect disguise.
Holding the half-empty bottle, he approached them, and—
Splash!
Without a moment's hesitation, he flipped the bottle upside down and poured the contents directly over Moyong Geon's head.
"Oh dear... My hand... slipped."
His flat, robotic tone—as if reading aloud from a school textbook—was a deliberate provocation.
Staring at Tang Hwi, whose face was flushed red and reeked of alcohol, the Alliance warrior stood frozen, his mind unable to process the situation. Meanwhile, Moyong Geon's internal energy surged violently, a clear sign of his explosive rage as he struggled to control his emotions.
"Oh! Well, if it isn't the man who almost became my brother-in-law! It's been a while, Brother Moyong!"
He went for the throat right from the start. At Tang Hwi's thinly veiled mockery targeting his reckless broken engagement, Moyong Geon trembled with rage.
"Tang Hwi... What is the meaning of this?"
"You still don't get it? What else could it be?"
Tang Hwi shrugged, his playful expression instantly turning cold.
"I'm picking a fight with the bastard who drove a stake through my sister's heart. To think you couldn't even understand that... You're dumber than I thought."
"No, I understand perfectly. You are currently insulting a representative of the Murim All—!"
In that instant, Tang Hwi moved.
He's calmer than I expected. I thought his hot temper would make him snap and attack immediately. I'll have to adjust my plan.
Tang Hwi had intended to drag him into a messy brawl befitting a rascal, but Moyong Geon was surprisingly level-headed. Despite having alcohol poured over his head in broad daylight and being insulted, he was trying to handle it formally as an insulted warrior of the Murim Alliance. If allowed to do so, it would only tarnish the reputation of the Sichuan Tang Clan. Thus, to force him into a mudslinging fight, Tang Hwi immediately executed a Seizing Technique and grabbed Moyong Geon by the collar.
"Hup!"
"Gah?!"
Before Moyong Geon could even react, Tang Hwi slammed his forehead into his in a brutal headbutt. It was a dogfight by any definition. It was so incredibly crude that it resembled a pathetic martial artist desperately rolling on the ground, drawing disapproving looks from the onlookers, but Tang Hwi did not miss this opening.
"First you break off your engagement as you please, and now you run away, abandoning your position as the Young Patriarch."
"What did you just say, you bastard...!"
The throbbing pain from the headbutt combined with a provocation that pierced his very core. It was true that within the clan, Moyong Gon had already politically aligned everyone to his side, forcing Moyong Geon to seek external power just to secure his position as the Young Patriarch. Though it wounded his pride, he had constantly comforted himself by saying it was unavoidable. But hearing it described as "running away" felt like having his deepest, most ignored insecurity laid bare. Moyong Geon's face flushed a deep, angry crimson.
"Does hearing the truth upset you? Ptooey!"
Releasing his grip on the collar, Tang Hwi spat on the ground. The gesture was so natural that one might have mistaken him for a bandit of the Green Forest.
"Then let's have a duel!"
"...What?"
For a moment, Moyong Geon was utterly dumbfounded.
Is this punk actually challenging me to a duel?
And with good reason. The Tang Hwi he knew was a greenhorn who hadn't even passed the preliminary rounds of the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering. A man who hadn't even properly reached the First-class Realm, let alone the Peak Realm, which was the bare minimum for the Nine Dragons and Six Phoenixes. That was the Tang Hwi of Moyong Geon's memory. He had been prepared to beat the boy to a pulp even if it caused trouble, but now, the boy had unexpectedly challenged him first.
If it's an official duel and not a crude street brawl... I can beat him legally.
Though it wasn't a fight to the death, duels were notoriously dangerous. It was common for a martial artist to end up with broken limbs, and on rare occasions, even their Dantian could be damaged. If anything, a duel was something Moyong Geon welcomed with open arms.
Foolish brat. If a master like me challenged a weakling like you, people would gossip. But if I simply accept a challenge initiated by a weakling, my reputation remains spotless. You've brought about the exact scenario I wanted all on your own!
"Official? Or unofficial?"
"Ha! What a coward. I'll make it official, so just shut up and wait."
"..."
Hurling yet another insult—Moyong Geon had lost count of how many times he'd been insulted by now—Tang Hwi turned around and shouted at the gathering crowd of onlookers.
"Listen up, everyone! I, Tang Hwi of the Sichuan Tang Clan, hereby challenge Moyong Geon of the White Tiger Unit to a duel! If I win, Young Master Moyong will perform a full prostration in his undergarments and apologize to the entire street!"
"What?! I never agreed to such a wager—!"
Before Moyong Geon, horrified by the bizarre penalty for losing, could even protest, Tang Hwi cut him off.
"But if I, Tang, lose—!"
The resolute shout that followed left everyone utterly dumbfounded. After all,
"I will cut off my own dick!"
He had wagered the single most precious thing a man could ever possess. The surrounding crowd, swept up in the unexpected drama, gasped and cheered in sheer awe.
"Heavens! He wagered his manhood to avenge his sister! What incredible sibling devotion!"
"My word! They said Young Master Tang was a rascal, but his guts are legendary! He has the makings of a great general!"
"Though that great general might soon become a female general... Still, what a man!"
Even Moyong Geon was left completely speechless.
This lunatic.
A man had just wagered his own manhood to demand a duel. If Moyong Geon rejected the challenge on the grounds that his own penalty was too cruel, what would happen? His penalty was merely to apologize in his undergarments. Besides, Moyong Geon was the one in the wrong in the first place. He was simply being asked to do what he should have done anyway, albeit in a slightly more humiliating manner, while Tang Hwi was risking his very dick with death-defying resolve. If Moyong Geon refused now, he would be branded the greatest coward under the heavens for the rest of his days.
"Well? What will it be? Will you accept my challenge?"
The answer is already decided, so just say yes. Tang Hwi's attitude practically screamed those words. And indeed, it was the truth.
With a face as grim as if he had chewed on bitter herbs, Moyong Geon barely managed to squeeze out an answer.
"I... accept your challenge."
And just like that, the duel was set.