A Filial Son
"...I refuse."
"Wh-what?"
Tang Yuseong's refusal to accept the apology sent a shockwave of disbelief through the crowd.
For a martial artist to kneel publicly and offer an apology, only to be flatly rejected, was an insult so profound it was practically an invitation to a death match. To be publicly spurned before countless onlookers was a humiliation of the highest order.
The spectators couldn't help but shudder, imagining the bloodbath that might sweep through the Tang Clan in the future if Tang Hwi—who would surely harbor a deep grudge over this public disgrace—ever became the Patriarch.
Yet, no one was more horrified by this turn of events than Tang Yuseong's own mother, Tang Sua.
Yuseong...! Why on earth aren't you forgiving him?!
For Tang Hwi to publicly swallow his pride and apologize was, in the grand game of politics, an immense concession—akin to letting an opponent take back several crucial moves. To spit on such a gesture was equivalent to flipping the board and mocking the opponent's skill to their face.
It was a recipe for disaster.
Not only would Tang Hwi naturally harbor a grudge against them, but Tang Yuseong would also be branded across the Jianghu as a petty, pathetic coward incapable of showing mercy. Before he could even establish a reputation as a martial artist, his character as a human being would be utterly ruined.
What mother could bear to watch her child's future be destroyed in an instant?
Under the intense, questioning stares of the crowd—and the desperate gaze of his mother—Tang Yuseong quietly explained his decision.
"I... I still remember everything so clearly. Even now, I often wake up paralyzed in the middle of the night... trapped in nightmares of being beaten by Brother."
At that confession, Tang Hwi's expression hardened.
Five years had passed since that drunken assault. The fact that he was still reliving the trauma in his dreams meant the shadow cast over his soul had never truly lifted.
Having consulted various physicians in his past lives, Tang Hwi recognized the affliction immediately.
Post-traumatic stress disorder... A condition usually reserved for survivors of brutal warfare.
It was a psychological scar born from surviving absolute horror. It took a terror as profound as a bloody battlefield to imprint such a lasting trauma onto a person's mind.
In other words, Tang Yuseong's fragile mind had been shattered by Tang Hwi's drunken violence all those years ago. The wound ran so deep that even a grand, excessively humble public apology could not heal it.
"I know... I know I shouldn't be doing this. I know how it looks, but..."
His voice was incredibly dejected, yet it was a plea that made the listeners' hearts ache.
"Just because I say the words 'I forgive you' doesn't mean the years of pain my mother and I endured will suddenly vanish."
"...I see. I was indeed too late."
A bitter smile touched Tang Hwi's lips.
It seemed some wounds were simply too deep to be mended by a belated apology.
To think he's spent five years dreaming of me beating him over and over... Honestly, it's a miracle he hasn't tried to slip a dagger between my ribs.
In Tang Hwi's estimation, Tang Yuseong was entirely unsuited for the brutal reality of the Tang Clan.
The clan's motto was to repay any slight tenfold, yet those trembling, tearful eyes held no desire for vengeance. He harbored deep resentment, yes, but he lacked the venom to strike back.
Watching such a fragile soul survive in this harsh world, Tang Hwi couldn't help but appreciate the privilege of noble birth.
If he had been born a commoner, the world would have chewed him up and spat him out. If he were the heir of some minor sect, his own self-loathing would have crushed him long ago.
Yet, even Tang Hwi had to admit one thing.
"Yet, you still found the courage to stand before me today."
"Ah...!"
Tang Yuseong flinched, squeezing his eyes shut as Tang Hwi's hand reached toward him. He knew all too well that refusing forgiveness in this setting was an unforgivable transgression.
But his resentment was so overwhelming that he had chosen to speak his truth regardless of the consequences. Bracing himself for the inevitable blow, he resolved to have no regrets.
"Thank you, Yuseong."
Pat, pat.
But instead of a heavy blow, a warm, gentle hand rested on his head, lightly patting his hair.
"Wh-what...? Huh?"
Tang Yuseong stammered, utterly bewildered. He had just publicly humiliated the young master, yet he was being thanked?
Yet, Tang Hwi's gratitude was entirely genuine.
The Jianghu was a ruthless world governed by the law of the jungle, regardless of whatever righteous platitudes people spouted. As a child of a martial clan, Yuseong surely understood this, yet he had still chosen to stand before the crowd and lay bare his raw, bleeding wounds.
Tang Hwi knew better than anyone the immense courage it took to make such a vulnerability public.
It was undoubtedly a foolish, self-destructive move—but it was a courageous one nonetheless.
A foolish decision. He chose to prioritize his raw emotions over his own future prospects.
Yet, in a strange way, that was precisely what a true martial artist needed.
Those who defy absolute power and seek to surpass it often make these reckless, emotional choices. If they survive, they become monsters. If not for his fragile temperament, Yuseong might have possessed the makings of a legendary master.
Come to think of it, when was the last time he had made such a foolish, irrational choice?
Tang Hwi turned his gaze inward, reflecting on his past lives.
Had his previous existences been defined by genuine struggle and a burning desire to transcend his limits?
At some point, he had unlocked the secrets of rapid cultivation. Repeating the process of effortlessly acquiring power across multiple lifetimes had made him complacent.
He could no longer recall when he had stopped fighting with his life on the line, treating battles with formidable foes as mere mathematical equations.
The steady, orthodox path of gradual growth has its merits. But walking a tightrope, risking everything for rapid ascension, is not bad either.
Whether one walked the Orthodox or the Demonic path, all rivers eventually flowed into the same vast ocean. He had always believed this, yet he had never truly embraced the thrill of the edge.
As he sank deeper into his own soul, Tang Hwi's consciousness condensed into a state of profound meditation.
But the sudden, violent swirling of qi around his body made it abundantly clear to everyone present that this was no ordinary contemplation.
"An enlightenment! Young Master Tang is experiencing a sudden enlightenment!"
"Wait, he was just publicly insulted by his cousin! What kind of enlightenment could he possibly trigger from that?!"
"Look at the way his internal energy is manifesting outwardly! To project qi like that while consolidating an enlightenment... doesn't that mean he has already reached the Master Realm?!"
Because the world believed Tang Hwi was merely at the Super-Peak Realm, the revelation of his true strength sent shockwaves through the crowd.
Among the onlookers, a few dark souls even began to harbor intense murderous intent.
To reach the Master Realm at barely twenty years of age was monstrous enough, but he was currently undergoing a breakthrough that would elevate him even further.
With a talent that practically guaranteed him a future seat among the Ten Great Masters of the Jianghu, those with wicked intentions felt a desperate urge to eliminate this rising dragon before he could fully spread his wings.
Yet, in the midst of the chaotic, packed crowd, it was impossible to pinpoint where the hostile gazes were coming from.
Sensing the sudden shift in the atmosphere, those who were quick to react immediately threw themselves forward to form a protective wall around Tang Hwi.
Head of the Dark Poison Pavilion, Tang Sua.
Head of the Grace and Enmity Pavilion, Tang Bun.
...And the Poison Butterfly Sword Queen, Tang Suryeon.
The absolute strongest masters of the Tang Clan took their positions, forming a tight triangular formation with Tang Hwi at the center.
The moment the three masters unleashed their vibrant, toxic qi—silently warning that anyone who took a step forward would be dissolved in instant poison—the hidden murderous intent vanished as if it had never existed.
The hidden enemies had only acted on a fleeting impulse of jealousy; none of them were foolish enough to trade their lives just to disrupt his breakthrough.
Furthermore, this was the Tang Clan Tower.
Every single resident of the surrounding area was a branch member of the Tang Clan, highly trained in the deadly arts of poison and assassination. This was their absolute, impenetrable stronghold.
"Everyone, stand back. If you wish to observe from a distance, I shall not stop you... but if anyone dares to disturb my Hwi's enlightenment, I, as the Patriarch of the Tang Clan, will ensure that grudge is repaid tenfold in blood."
At Tang Suryeon's chilling, poison-laced warning, the spectators began to back away, one by one.
Though they were dying of curiosity to see if the young master would successfully shatter the wall and ascend to a higher plane, none of them were foolish enough to risk their lives for a front-row seat.
The crowd slowly dispersed.
Only after expanding her sensory perception to sweep across the entire perimeter of the Tang Clan Tower and ensuring the threat had fully dissipated did Tang Suryeon allow herself to exhale a quiet sigh of relief.
Meanwhile, Tang Sua, even while maintaining her vigilant guard, cast a deeply conflicted gaze toward her retreating son.
While she understood the deep-seated trauma that had driven him to speak, accepting his self-destructive choice was another matter entirely.
"Yuseong. Mother thinks we need to have a serious talk about this later. For now, go back to our quarters."
"...Yes, Mother."
As if acutely aware of the gravity of his actions, Tang Yuseong hung his head, his shoulders slumped as he trudged away into the shadows.
Watching the heavy-hearted mother and son, Tang Suryeon felt a pang of shared maternal sorrow. She offered a soft, bitter smile.
"Head of the Dark Poison Pavilion. Do not be too harsh on Yuseong."
"But, Patriarch... my son was clearly in the wrong. No matter how much I love him, this is a matter of clan discipline. I must punish him, regardless of my personal feelings."
If she did not discipline him after he had caused such a massive public scene, the rumors would tear them apart.
It was far better for her, as his mother, to deliver the punishment herself to shield him from worse consequences.
"Do you truly believe that punishing him yourself will stop the cold stares of the clan? It might lessen the immediate outrage, but in the end, Yuseong will still find himself utterly isolated."
"......"
Struck by the undeniable truth of her words, Tang Sua fell silent.
"You are Yuseong's mother. I believe a parent's true duty is to stand by their child's side and shield them from the world, even if it means facing isolation together. Of course, I will not force my views upon you, so do not feel pressured."
"...I understand. I will defer to your wisdom, Patriarch."
Nodding quietly, Tang Suryeon refocused her attention on guarding her son.
Yet, no matter how hard she tried, she could not banish the stray thoughts that suddenly flooded her mind.
Should I... also stand by my son's side?
She thought of Tang Hwi—the son who had utterly dominated her body, showering her with depraved, lustful affection even as he broke down her every moral defense.