A Filial Son's Calculation

Through the intelligence reports he had gathered from the Hao Sect over the past three days, the filial son Tang Hwi was able to learn more about his biological father, Namgung Bu-ryun. Specifically, he learned that the man was an even greater piece of trash than he had previously imagined.

It was already a well-known fact that Namgung Bu-ryun was a parasite who slowly bled the Sichuan Tang Clan dry to fund his debauchery, making him trash by default. However, according to the Hao Sect's information, his depravity ran far deeper.

To think someone bearing the prestigious name of Namgung would keep the Green Forest Bandits under his thumb. The Namgung Clan has truly fallen.

The Green Forest Bandits were, in simple terms, mountain bandits. They merely called themselves the 'Green Forest' to sound more dignified than a common rabble of thieves, and the name had stuck over time.

Of course, banditry was a profession that abandoned basic human decency long before it broke imperial law. Consequently, in regions governed by prestigious clans, any bandits who grew too bold were swiftly eradicated. The Five Great Noble Clans, in particular, routinely swept their surrounding territories at short intervals to ensure not a single bandit could take root.

Right outside Yibin, any bandits spotted were instantly slaughtered by the experts of the Eunwon Pavilion dispatched by the Sichuan Tang Clan. Yet, even in such harsh conditions, there were always cockroach-like survivors. The secret of how they managed to evade the Eunwon Pavilion's raids with such perfect timing was laid bare in the report before him.

"He was taking bribes to leak the Tang Clan's internal information to the Mudok Chae..." Tang Hwi muttered, a cold sneer playing on his lips. "Good grief. He isn't just a parasite. He's a malignant cancer."

Not only did he tolerate bandits, but he actively aided them in harming one of the Five Great Noble Clans. If this story ever got out, the damage to their reputations would be catastrophic. The Namgung Clan would be branded as the family that produced the world's greatest fool, while the Sichuan Tang Clan would be ridiculed as blind idiots for accepting such a man as a matrilocal husband. It was the perfect, juicy gossip for the idle talkers of the Jianghu to feast upon.

Fortunately, the only organization in the world that knows about this is the Hao Sect.

It seemed the strategist of the Mudok Chae had made the fatal mistake of frequenting brothels to meet with Namgung Bu-ryun. Because they slipped in and out of those pleasure houses so often, they had eventually left a trail for the Hao Sect to catch. Had it been otherwise, even the Beggars' Sect would have caught wind of it by now and secretly approached the Sichuan Tang Clan to offer their cooperation.

Tang Hwi could be certain of this because Namgung Bu-ryun had been pocketing these bribes for nearly ten years now.

Shortly after Gain was born, Mother ascended to the Transcendental Realm. It was precisely around that time that he began spending almost all his days in brothels, and the timeline of his bribery matches up perfectly. Did his accumulated inferiority complex finally explode back then?

To think he had committed such a treasonous act out of sheer spite toward Tang Suryeon. It was beyond pathetic; it was utterly wretched.

"I think I see exactly how to use my dear father now."

Since his father was already conveniently connected to the Mudok Chae, utilizing them would paint quite an exquisite picture. With a dark smile, Tang Hwi gathered the documents and returned to the Patriarch's Pavilion. Coincidentally, Namgung Bu-ryun had just squandered the last of his pocket money and was bound to return to the pavilion to replenish his funds.

"Tsk. Well, your father will be taking his leave now."

"…Rest well, Father. Please call for me when you wish to go out again."

"Tsk!"

Tang Hwi stared coldly at Namgung Bu-ryun's retreating back as the man walked away alone. Tang Suryeon was the master of the Patriarch's Pavilion and his wife; the very least he should have done upon returning was greet her. Their dynamic had degraded past the point of strangers, let alone a married couple. Even a common guest or a renowned martial artist staying at the estate would have paid their respects to the Patriarch out of basic courtesy.

Instead, it was Tang Hwi who sought out Tang Suryeon to deliver his report.

"Mother. I have come to report on Father."

"Welcome back, Hwi. You did well escorting your father. Tell me, do you think we can get him to properly settle back into the Patriarch's Pavilion?"

"We will need to observe him a bit longer. Setting aside his temperament, his lifestyle has been deeply ingrained for over a decade. It will be difficult to correct it overnight."

Seeing the profound disappointment flickering in Tang Suryeon's eyes, Tang Hwi felt a sharp pang in his chest.

Even if their bond has withered to nothing but a hollow marriage, I worry about how devastated she will be when she learns that her husband is actively colluding with the mountain bandits who prey on our clan.

Yet, she had to know. Only then would any lingering attachments she held for Namgung Bu-ryun be utterly severed, leaving a void that Tang Hwi could fill entirely with himself. Human emotions were both simple and delicate; one could not simply force their way in without careful preparation.

"For now, I have blocked his access to the Honglu and severely restricted his allowance. He tried to budget it, but the silver ran dry in just three days, forcing him to return to the pavilion."

"Yes. He may be disgruntled now, but as he spends more time at home, perhaps his affection will return, and he will wish to be with his family again. You have worked hard, my son."

The plan he had presented ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to Tang Suryeon was to manipulate the situation so that his father—who lived like a stray dog outside the estate—would be forced to remain within the Patriarch's Pavilion for extended periods. Did she know that physical distance between a couple often dictated the strength of their affection? There was a reason why the wives of escort guards had such a notoriously high rate of infidelity. When their husbands went on long-distance escort missions to other regions, the wives were left to endure those vast stretches of loneliness by themselves. In fact, this was drawn from Tang Hwi's own personal experience in a past life.

In one of my past lives, I decided to test myself as an escort guard, and it didn't take long for my woman to stray.

To make matters worse, her partner in crime had been a fellow guard from the same agency—a lazy bastard who only took short-distance local jobs, earning pennies but staying close to home. Back then, his blood had boiled with rage, but having exacted a thoroughly satisfying revenge, Tang Hwi could now recall the memory with complete indifference.

"I believe it would be best to continue regulating Father's allowance. The more recklessly he spends, the more we should tighten the purse strings. They say a monk who has never tasted meat might live without it, but no monk ever eats meat just once. He will inevitably squander his funds again, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and by using that as a pretext to keep him bound to the Patriarch's Pavilion, we will gradually see improvement."

"Very well. This mother will place all her trust in you, Hwi."

The gaze of absolute trust that Tang Suryeon directed at her reformed son was slightly heavy, yet deeply gratifying. At the very least, as long as he didn't cause any massive disasters, he would remain entirely above suspicion.

"Now, I must reward you for your hard work today... Hwi."

She spoke in an exceptionally cautious, delicate tone.

"Would you like to learn the sword from your mother?"

It was a proposal that even Tang Hwi had never anticipated.

"The sword, Mother?"

"Yes. I know it might wound your pride as a direct descendant of the Tang Clan to be told to learn the sword instead of throwing weapons and poison. But from my own experience, the path of the sword is not a bad one at all."

"Why the sword for me?"

"Because... this mother can clearly see that you have reached the Master Realm. While it may not be accurate to say you are walking your own unique path yet, breaking through from the Peak Realm to the Master Realm is highly encouraging—but also incredibly dangerous. Had you trained in a supreme, high-tier martial art, it would be different, but achieving the Master Realm using only basic foundation techniques means the wall ahead of you has ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠become infinitely harder to shatter. Now that you are a Master, you must feel it too."

Tang Hwi understood exactly what she meant. In the early stages of his countless past lives, he had attempted to break through using the basic Three Powers Sword Style over and over, failing more times than he could count. He knew better than anyone just how reckless, agonizing, and torturous it was to try and shatter the martial walls to ascend using such low-grade techniques. If one somehow succeeded, the fruits of that labor were sweet beyond measure, but until that moment of breakthrough, it was nothing short of living in a perpetual hell. Thus, Tang Hwi deeply appreciated how incredibly thoughtful and kind Tang Suryeon's gentle consideration was. From her perspective, his throwing weapons and poison skills must have looked utterly abysmal.

Well... throwing weapons aren't to my taste, so I've just been acting like I have no talent for them. And as for poison, I can mimic poison techniques using the Demonic Qi of my Heavenly Demonic Dragon Scale Dance, but since it always manifests as a lethal, corrosive poison, I've avoided using it. It's only natural she would misunderstand.

After all, he couldn't exactly claim to be a master of poison while corrupting and killing Moyong Geon with pure Demonic Qi.

How warm.

No matter how many times he reincarnated, the one thing he could never grow accustomed to was the boundless, unconditional warmth of family. At the same time, it was a soothing tonic that reaffirmed his identity as 'Tang Hwi.' A genuine, bright smile naturally spread across his face, prompting him to quickly bow his head. He didn't want Tang Suryeon to see the slightly embarrassing, foolish grin tugging at his lips as these tender emotions washed over him. A child, after all, always wished to appear mature and composed in front of their parents.

However, seeing his sudden reaction, Tang Suryeon panicked. The moment she offered to teach him the sword, his ears and neck had flushed a deep crimson, and he had abruptly snapped his head down. She completely misunderstood, assuming he was trembling in suppressed rage at having his pride wounded. Flustered and anxious, she began to stammer in a rush.

"Hwi! I-I didn't mean to say anything harsh to you! It's just... I only wanted to say that there are other paths besides throwing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠weapons and poison that are just as honorable! So, please don't—?!"

"It is quite alright, Mother."

"O-Oh?"

Tang Hwi kept his head bowed. Yet, because his voice had softened to a quiet, gentle register, Tang Suryeon found herself falling silent, listening intently to her son. His voice carried a strange, trembling quality—one that could easily be mistaken for choked-back resentment, or perhaps a profound, overwhelming wave of gratitude. Balancing on that delicate, ambiguous line, Tang Hwi managed to whisper his next words.

"Thank you... for saying that to me."

He truly meant it.