The Tang Clan's Revealing Stench
The Sichuan Tang Clan, or Tang Clan for short. Based in the Sichuan region, this family was renowned for their prowess with poisons, hidden weapons, and all manner of mechanisms. True to their poison-wielding ways, they maintained a secretive and insular family tradition, making it exceedingly rare to encounter a Tang Clan member out in the jianghu.
Yi Jingang's eyes wavered at Yi Jinpyeong's words. The shock didn't end there. The pretty-boy gigolo's slit-like eyes widened into circles before he burst into booming laughter. "Hah! You saw right through me at a glance? How? Did I plaster it on a sign somewhere?"
The man patted himself down dramatically, checking here and there. Yi Jinpyeong recalled the words of Un Sa-nang, the Dongbeonhoe spy who practiced demonic arts. She'd mentioned a major clan backing Jang Gapae. He'd brushed it off at the time, but who would've thought it was the Tang Clan?
"Brat. Answer me. How did you know I'm from the Tang Clan?"
The man pressed again. Unlike his earlier boisterous laugh, he seemed genuinely bothered that this kid had pegged his identity so quickly.
"How else? You reek of it. Like a rotting corpse, that foul stench."
Hah. The man let out a cold chuckle. "No manners, mouth like a sewer. Ah, must be that ruined family of yours. No proper upbringing, I suppose."
"Better than breath that smells like garbage. Come to think of it, the guy I remember from back then reeked of the sewers too. By that measure, you've properly inherited your family's bloodline."
"......"
"The funny part is, you lot never notice your own stink. You Tang bastards always huddle together, cooking and stewing in your own filth. You need an outsider like me to tell it straight. Why don't you ask your boys sometime? See if they smell it on you."
The gloomy dwarf targeted by Yi Jinpyeong's pointing finger spoke up. "I wouldn't know. My nose isn't the best."
The man snapped irritably. "Shut it! Who asked you?!"
Yi Jinpyeong shrugged. "Ah, my mistake. Asking your underlings won't help. But deep down, they're probably relieved. Must've been hell holding their breath around you all this time."
"As I said, my nose is poor. But from what I overheard among the men—"
"One more word without permission, and I'll slice off that worthless nose of yours."
The man shot a chilling warning at his innocent subordinate. In his pale, slender hand gleamed three long needles and a bluish shortsword.
The dwarf clamped his mouth shut. The Tang man turned back to Yi Jinpyeong, his voice icy. "Don't think you can slither out with nonsense. How could a punk like you ever cross paths with a Tang Clan member? Spill it. How did you figure out my family?"
Yi Jinpyeong suddenly felt a deep weariness. Yi Jingang captured tight as a prisoner, Jang Gapae warriors encircling them, the unnatural aura emanating from the man atop the hill, and his own depleted inner energy and stamina from the nonstop chase—it all pressed down on him. And this fool's endless pointless questions.
But...
The guy was fixated, obsessively so, on how he'd identified his origins. There had to be a reason.
"How could I not know? The rumors are all over the streets. Folks huddling in groups, whispering: 'Tang Clan's backing Jang Gapae, so watch out for their sneaky traps, schemes, and bad breath when you tangle with them.'"
"...Lies the second you open your mouth. I've never once invoked my clan's name, so how could rumors spread?"
"Looks like you're not too bright. Jang Gapae's only just muscled into Dongjeong Lake, raising hell, and groups like Dongbeonhoe are still sitting tight? They're just being cautious because you're from such a treacherous clan."
The man whipped his head toward the dwarf warrior, as if to verify. But the dwarf kept his mouth shut, following orders.
Gnashing his teeth, the Tang man demanded, "Answer me. Is that brat telling the truth?"
"I've heard no such rumors. But it is true Dongbeonhoe's been unusually passive."
"You lot haven't been blabbing needlessly?"
"...Why would we do that?"
"Hmph. You idiots can't even handle one little brat properly. No surprise if you've been loose-lipped. If this blows up, it's on you. Remember that."
The dwarf's face darkened further. Yi Jinpyeong snickered at their exchange. "Pathetic. Blames everyone but himself for his own screw-ups, bullying his underlings. How long did you think that dirty little secret would hold?"
"Brat. You'd best shut that mouth."
"Overly sensitive reaction. Don't tell me puppeteering Jang Gapae is a secret even from the rest of your clan?"
No reply from the cold-faced man. But Yi Jinpyeong caught the flicker of panic deep in his eyes.
Aha. Realization dawned, and Yi Jinpyeong grinned. "You're some sidelined branch member, or a discarded brother from the succession fight, aren't you? Fattening your own pockets on the side?"
".....!"
"Probably scheming to build secret power, rack up merits, and stage a comeback. That's why you hated your identity leaking. Nailed it, huh?"
Silence from the man. Yi Jinpyeong clapped and roared with laughter. Caught so easily—nothing but a greenhorn.
"Too bad you're so sloppy. Want some advice? Your main house knows damn well what you're up to. They're just letting it slide out of pity. Better slink back before you cause real trouble and they can't ignore it anymore."
The man stared silently. A cold smile crept across his gigolo face. He closed his eyes, cracked his neck, then threw his head back and laughed toward the sky. Killing intent laced the sound.
"...My mistake, even talking to a punk like you."
Paht!
He flung open the hand clutching the needles.
Green as he might be in scheming, the man's skill with hidden weapons was no joke. His hand flashed, and the needles vanished from sight in an instant.
Cleaving the air, the needles closed in. Seemingly on the same path, the three split at the last second, targeting Yi Jinpyeong's vital points from three directions.
That was just the start. Before the first volley even reached him, the man's hand darted into his robes, unleashing more needles in rapid succession.
Chwarararak!!
Silver threads crisscrossed like a hailstorm, filling the space between them without gap.
Branch or direct line, sidelined or not, the man's martial prowess was real. The Tang Clan had been swimming in wealth even in Yi Gyeol's era, so he'd likely been stuffed with premium elixirs since infancy and trained rigorously under top masters.
And those hidden weapons? Pure Tang Clan make. Who knew what vile poison coated them.
No catching or blocking barehanded. Yi Jinpyeong focused, deflecting the needles while stepping forward one by one.
Warriors surrounded him, but no matter. Take down the leader, and it was over.
Strike when he thinks he's got the edge. Quick and decisive.
Pung Chwi Palbo, Fourth Form — Wind Blowing Over Body and Mind
One destination: the pretty boy. Goal: smash that smug face to pulp.
His wobbly form scattered like clouds, tracing the optimal path in his mind, moving like the wind.
Swords swung by countless warriors, needles pouring down—none could bar him.
He leaped to the hill's peak in one bound.
Distance closing fast. He strode toward the man's tree stump seat.
The man's face loomed large. His eyes bulged in surprise.
But in that instant, Yi Jinpyeong sensed something gravely wrong.
Amid the shock in those eyes gleamed an ecstatic glee he couldn't hide.
Triumphant sparkle. Something was up. Definitely.
!!!!
No time to think—he yanked his body upward.
Odd sensation at his sole. Needle piercing his leather shoe.
Traps in the ground.
Instinct saved him. Barely avoided skin contact.
Flipping wildly in midair, he whipped up a fierce whirlwind.
"Pretty nimble!"
The man cackled. Not letting Yi Jinpyeong escape the trap, he loosed more needles.
At point-blank, loaded with skill, they pierced Yi Jinpyeong's wind effortlessly.
Twisting repeatedly in the air, he dodged the barrage; those he couldn't, he flicked away with his sleeve.
Sleeve touched a needle and smoked green, hole burned through.
Vile stench, but no time to care.
Airborne only briefly. Gravity would pull him down eventually.
But which patch of ground was safe? Thick grass could hide anything.
No choice—aim for a branch. But the pretty boy read it, hurling his shortsword.
Yi Jinpyeong could dodge. The branch couldn't.
Hand reaching for purchase, branch severed clean. His body plummeted to earth.
"Ehehe. Ehehihihihi!"
Staring at Yi Jinpyeong halted in his tracks, the man shook with laughter.
Needle protruding from Yi Jinpyeong's sole. His face rapidly darkened to black.