Martial God-nim, Becoming the Sacheon Tang Family's Treasure [01]: Way Too Much Work
Even too much work was too much. First came the mountain of documents. I set down the brush only to flip to the next page. Trade terms with neighboring families. Training reports from the disciples. Updates from the branches. No end in sight.
Tasks I could have handled effortlessly before. But not anymore. Sleep had dwindled, meals were sparse. Calling in physicians changed nothing. "No issues," they'd say. Other experts gave the same verdict. Overwork, they claimed—but this wasn't something to brush off.
My body knew first. This wasn't mere fatigue. The flame of life was flickering out.
I had to hold on until naming a successor. All for the Tang family.
But... the kids probably had no clue.
The eldest son lacked talent—far too much. The second son's greed was excessive. The eldest daughter chased after men. The youngest... inscrutable.
Times like these, I envied the Namgung family. They'd picked their heir early.
What to do with Sacheon Dangga?
As I tapped the table, the door opened.
"Patriarch. A report."
The servant's voice was stiff. I didn't bother looking up, eyes fixed on the papers.
"Speak."
"The youngest miss has returned."
"I see."
News I didn't need to hear. A child I couldn't confine, even if I tried. Best let her roam free until marriage.
I meant to let it pass.
"But..."
"Out with it."
"She was carrying a child."
The brush paused. Had my ears failed me now too? Disaster.
"...Repeat that."
"The miss returned holding a child. Appears to be a girl, around ten years old. Rumors say it's her daughter..."
I resumed writing. Couldn't accept So-ya carrying a child. Misunderstanding, surely.
She wasn't the type to pick up strays. I, her father, knew that best. No impulsive moves. No emotional whims.
Bringing home a child didn't fit her at all.
They'd seen wrong. Helped a lost kid, or minded a friend's sibling. Mass delusion.
No way she'd do that before her wedding.
"Understood. Dismissed."
The servant left. I flipped pages. Next report. The one after.
The brush moved steadily again. Another uneventful day.
Shortly after... the door opened again.
"I have words for you."
Another servant. Voice cautious.
"The miss brought a child. Young girl, black hair and eyes. Says it's her only daughter."
"Enough."
I cut him short. The word child landed on the paper. I set down the brush. Ink smeared my fingertips.
Another mess. The next patriarch candidate. Poison arts surpassing mine, no doubt. Sharp judgment, decisive. But one flaw: once her mind was set, she bulldozed through.
Who'd she take after with that stubborn streak?
What had she picked up this time?
I placed the brush on the documents. No mood to continue. Gazed out the window.
Thinking of my worthless children... a sigh escaped.
Sacheon Dangga knew no quiet days.
The door opened. Sacheon Dangga's youngest daughter. My precious girl, whom I wouldn't trade for the world in my eyes. Dang So-ya stood there.
And indeed, cradling a child.
A girl. Black hair cascading down her back. Black eyes. Small face, slender frame. So-ya's arms fit her perfectly, generously so for the child's size.
She nestled quietly within.
Words caught in my throat. ...She really brought her.
"Father."
So-ya spoke first. Her usual voice. Neither high nor low, flat intonation. No bewitchment in her aura.
"What's that child?"
Concise question.
"The one I'll raise."
Her reply, equally curt. Our exchanges had always been this way. No drawn-out talk, from either side.
"Sit."
So-ya sat, child on her lap. Fluid as water. Holding her, accepting it—all natural.
I watched a moment, then dropped my gaze. She wasn't one to show affection like that.
Meant she was serious.
"Call a servant. Have them take the child to a guest house. We need to talk alone."
So-ya's eyes flicked to the child. She nodded.
The child said nothing. A servant came and led her away. So-ya watched until she vanished beyond the door, then faced front.
"Whose child?"
"Don't know."
"Origin?"
"Unknown."
"Then why bring her?"
So-ya drew a short breath.
"Possibly Grandfather's illegitimate. I checked myself."
My brow twitched faintly.
"Explain."
"Bone Washing Marrow Cleansing. Via Tang family qi. Direct lineage path only. No one in the family has that depth now. Explains if it's a trace from when Grandfather lived."
Silence fell after her words.
I lightly tapped a finger on the table.
Father. Few good memories. Keeping a woman or two? Common in the jianghu. But he overdid it. Concubines in double digits.
Rumors of bastards spread naturally. Never confirmed, but not baseless.
Not odd if Sacheon Dangga had an unknown child somewhere.
If Bone Washing Marrow Cleansing via our qi... hard to call unrelated.
"Betrothal?"
"Not interested."
"They won't stay quiet."
"No spare attention for their issues."
"Family face?"
"I'll handle any fallout."
No more words. She wouldn't bend. I'd known since she was young. Once decided, straight ahead. No turns.
Ideal patriarch traits... but a father's headache at times.
So-ya was Sacheon Dangga's top talent. Next patriarch, plain to see. Poison depth, judgment, leadership—all flawless.
Hence her brothers' envy.
Straining betrothal ties had costs. But forcing her would breed bigger issues. No parent beats their child, they say.
Nothing for it. The tighter you hold her, the farther she slips. Couldn't cast her out. Nor leave as is.
I rose.
"Bring the child. I'll see her myself."
The guest house was larger than expected. Courtyard visible through windows. Training grounds beyond. Warriors moved there.
A great clan. "Great" didn't cover it. Systematic.
Servants' paths didn't overlap. Clear zones. Guards not random—fixed intervals, rotations.
A Tang family maid approached, bowed. Led me—cradled—to the bath. Skilled hands, no discomfort. Washed me like precious treasure, changed clothes.
Tang people treated this stranger naturally. Eyes followed, of course. Glances, stiffening at my sight.
Rumors of Dang So-ya's brought child had spread.
But no prying or discomfort. Thoroughly trained. Sacheon Dangga brimmed with such folk.
That aside... this scent. Nostalgic.
Herbal, mixed with poison. From deep in the building. Tang family hallmark.
Familiar. Long inhaled.
Master's workshop smelled just so. Where poison handlers gathered.
I'd brewed toxins with Master often. Nearly died once or twice.
I quietly scanned the room. A faint qi brushed past. Barely there. A breeze, perhaps. Easy to mistake.
But focusing senses again... definitely there.
Maqi. In a righteous clan like Sacheon Dangga.
Eyes half-closed. Traced its direction. Toward the main hall from here.
Not flowing in. Stagnant. Rooted somewhere.
Maqi user inside Sacheon Dangga?
Thought deepened. Or higher up? Someone influential.
Could be one member's issue. But if tied to upper echelons... the whole family tainted.
Complicated. Tang family entangled with others too, likely.
No checking now. Don't overthink. Stay true to myself. Wait for their slip.
Soon a servant arrived.
"The patriarch summons you."
I nodded, followed. Long corridor. Casually surveyed. Door spacing, window positions, ceiling height. Guards matched courtyard—internal-external mesh. Tight net.
At the door. Servant announced. "Enter," came the word.
I pushed in.
The moment I stepped inside, the faint guest house trace sharpened, vivid.
Who? Bearing this vile thing.
Not in the air. Emanating from one spot.
I followed to Dang So-ya first. Then behind, seated: Dang Baek-un.
Flawless exterior. Straight back, steady breath. Clear eyes. Overflowing with long-cultivated martial aura. Befitting a clan head, commanding presence. Perfect righteous master.
But inside... different. Felt it from afar. Outer qi stable, inner flow dark, murky. Surface calm, underlayer foul.
Would miss without probing.
Master mentioned it: Father's health crashed suddenly. No medicine, no physician helped.
Now it clicked before my eyes.
I breathed evenly. Master grew here. Inhaled this scent, walked this yard.
Now rotting from within.
Not illness. Planted. Carefully. Undetectably. Deep-rooted toxin. Slow-spread over years. Not to kill outright, but naturally.
Left alone, death in years. Unnoticed.
"...Indeed, a child worth liking."
Dang Baek-un's gaze met mine. I held it.
Not elder to child. Judging a person. Veteran sizing up quick.
His eyes scanned me top to bottom.
Play the child. Head slightly down. Tense before stranger. Hands clasped, body small. Gaze soft, quiet, meek.
Silence stretched. Probed him once more.
Tang internal affair, surely. Outsider couldn't maneuver so precise. At least... knows layout. Close to patriarch.
Did Dang Baek-un know? Pretend not? Those eyes said no.
No easy answer now. Speak? Hold back?
Torn. Did Dang So-ya know? Probably not. Needs maqi handling experience.
Future her might. Not this timeline's.
Best bury for now.
His gaze lingered.
Play Master's daughter... stay close. Chance will come.
"Your name?"
"Heukyeon, sir."
"...Good. Tests start tomorrow."
I stood quietly under that gaze.
First day here. No rush. Stay calm.
Sacheon Dangga's Dang So-ya. Future master.
Two people, one soul.
This time, I'll protect her.