Waking the Ring of Heavenly Return
He drew out Hwancheonjihwan and poured his inner energy into it.
Wooong.
The ring vibrated.
“Aren’t you going to wake up?”
Only the trembling answered him. The creature’s voice never came.
He rifled through Pyeongchil’s clothes until he found a dagger, then dragged the blade across his own palm.
Drip. Drip.
Blood spattered onto Hwancheonjihwan. He sent energy into it once more.
“Still won’t wake? This is the blood engraved upon you.”
Hwancheonjihwan was one of the Three Great Treasures of the martial world and, at the same time, a sacred relic of the Tang Clan. Yet the clan itself had never known the ring’s true form. All they possessed were fragments of stories handed down through the generations.
Even he had discovered that this was Hwancheonjihwan only by chance—no. It had been a fated opportunity designed by his late mother. The conditions for the ring’s awakening matched him perfectly: pure direct-line blood of the Tang Clan, the spirit of a Ten Thousand Poison Ghost, and a bloodline suited to the clan’s forbidden power, Tyrant Blood Poison Qi.
“In the end, you’ll become obsessed with me.”
An unidentifiable force began to mingle with the energy he fed into the ring. That force wandered through every corner of his body, as if inspecting whether this place would make a suitable home.
“The house is too small, so you’re dissatisfied, I suppose.”
His present strength was only third-class.
“I guarantee it. Soon I’ll give you the spacious house you want—and I’ll master Tyrant Blood Poison Qi for you as well.”
As though the ring had understood every word…
Wooong!
The trembling grew violent.
Then it spoke.
[You of all people dare accept my power? With the meridians of a mere third-class?]
The voice of Hwancheonjihwan—arrogant beyond measure.
[And what’s this about mastering Tyrant Blood Poison Qi? That’s an internal art only I know. How would a mongrel like you know of it?]
The ring puffed itself up with pride.
“If I succeed in mastering Tyrant Blood Poison Qi, hand over the Black Dragon Gold Pill to me.”
There was one thing he had failed to obtain in his previous life: the Black Dragon Gold Pill. Only later had he learned the condition—completely absorb the Poison Blood Pond before the age of fifteen. He had never managed it, and so the pill had remained forever out of reach.
[Huk! You even know about the Black Dragon Gold Pill? That secret is mine alone!]
Hwancheonjihwan floundered in panic. The Black Dragon Gold Pill was a forbidden elixir of the Sichuan Tang Clan. An ordinary martial artist who swallowed it died on the spot; even a poison master who consumed it would go mad. Yet to one who had mastered Tyrant Blood Poison Qi, it became a peerless treasure of the ages.
“Claiming only you know of it—isn’t that a rather arrogant statement for a mere artifact that isn’t even human?”
He gave the ring a light prod.
[A mere artifaaaact? You dare treat me as some common trinket?!]
“To me you’re still nothing more than an ornament that sits on a finger.”
[How dare youuu!]
“But if you can give me the Black Dragon Gold Pill, the story changes.”
He slipped the pill into the bargain as casually as breathing. The ring, as if it had been waiting for exactly that, accepted the wager of energy.
[Fine. If you win our bet, I’ll give you anything you want. But if I win, you’ll vomit blood from all five orifices and die.]
“Keep that promise.”
[Need I say it twice?]
Words from before the regression rose in his memory. To obtain the Black Dragon Gold Pill, you have to wound its pride.
The provocation had landed perfectly. Hwancheonjihwan’s nature was arrogance itself. Among the Three Great Treasures it considered itself the foremost—so confident in its power, so certain of its knowledge, that it strutted without shame.
[Just you wait until you’re weeping and begging me to spare your life.]
“You’re the one who should be careful.”
In the previous life, Hwancheonjihwan itself had said that targeting its pride would yield the Black Dragon Gold Pill.
Coming back to the past isn’t all bad—I get to build new memories with you.
Back then he had focused only on survival. Memories had been a luxury; bare, desperate life had been everything.
“I’ve woken you. Now it’s truly time to head for the Poison Blood Pond.”
He opened the door of his residence and stepped outside.
A maid sweeping the courtyard let out a long sigh.
“Haa… When will I ever escape this Poison Dragon Pavilion?”
“Every single day here feels like walking on thin ice.”
“I’m terrified of what might happen today.”
The maids spoke softly so only they could hear.
“I wish I could work at the Dark Dragon Pavilion or the Fire Dragon Pavilion instead.”
The Dark Dragon Pavilion was Tang Yuhyeon’s residence. The Fire Dragon Pavilion belonged to the half-siblings—the kindest, most generous members of the clan. The maids all preferred those two places.
“Working at the Poison Dragon Pavilion means contempt and abuse wherever I go. It’s enough to make me cry.”
“Why am I the only one stuck with this treatment?”
They felt bitterly wronged. The standing of the master one served decided whether a servant could walk with their head held high. And the master of the Poison Dragon Pavilion, Tang Cheonwi, was the clan’s notorious wastrel—a living disgrace. Though he was the legitimate heir, the clan lord wanted nothing more than to marry him off and be rid of him.
“I should petition the head maid again.”
“I’ll join you.”
Just as they were uniting to escape this place—
Creak.
The hinges of the Poison Dragon Pavilion’s door scraped open. A boy stepped out—pale-faced, cold-eyed.
“You hate this Poison Dragon Pavilion that much?”
He had clearly heard every word. The master of the place, Tang Cheonwi, asked the question flatly.
“Th-that’s not—”
“I-I…”
The maids trembled from head to toe. Simply looking at him filled them with dread.
“If you don’t want to work here, I’ll tell the head maid myself.”
“W-we’re sorry, Young Master!”
“Please… spare us…”
They dropped to the ground in a heap. The sight was familiar to Tang Cheonwi. In the past he had committed so many acts of tyranny that even opening one’s eyes had been difficult.
“I’m not going to kill you, so get up and clean the corpse inside the pavilion.”
“……Pardon?”
“Didn’t you hear me?”
“A corpse… you say?”
“That’s right.”
Their eyes shifted past him. Only then did they see the body lying in a pool of blood.
“Kyaaaah!”
Screams tore free—yet the moment they met Tang Cheonwi’s gaze they clamped their mouths shut again.
“Pyeongchil was reporting my every move to Hongseojae. So I killed him. Remember that. I never forgive a dog that bites its master.”
It was a warning to every spy who watched the Poison Dragon Pavilion.
“Understood?”
“W-we would never dream of betraying the Young Master—not even a little!”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
Tang Cheonwi was about to leave the pavilion when a faint sound of running feet reached his ears.
“Damn. He’s coming this way.”
He snapped at the maids.
“Hide the corpse. Now.”
If Yuhyeon saw Pyeongchil’s body, the boy’s face would freeze over. This was the first time he would meet his younger brother after returning to the past; he refused to let the child’s expression turn ugly.
“Hurry!”
The maids clutched their shaking limbs and dragged the corpse away at once. Tang Cheonwi stepped outside the Poison Dragon Pavilion to greet Tang Yuhyeon.
“Brother!”
A small figure came racing toward him, calling out in frantic urgency. The boy skidded to a stop and stamped his feet.
“Why did you come out so late? All the adults are waiting only for you!”
Had this child always been so endearing? The way he fretted made him look exactly like a puppy desperate to relieve itself. The worried look on his face was simply extra.
“Yuhyeon.”
“Brother, honestly—this isn’t the time to call my name. Come quickly. If we go together, Father won’t scold you as much.”
He was only thirteen, and tiny even for that age. The little boy seized his brother’s hand and pulled with all his strength. Tang Cheonwi did not budge; Tang Yuhyeon panted and heaved.
“Aigoo, really—we’re late, so why are you just standing there?”
Tang Cheonwi reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair.
“Ah!”
“You’re still pure as clear water.”
“Heheh, isn’t that my best point?”
Yuhyeon beamed under the affection.
“Hyeon-ah.”
Having returned to the past, there were questions he wanted to ask this child. Why had he cherished the Tang Clan so fiercely? Why had he turned a blind eye even after learning of those who betrayed the family? He wanted the reasons.
“Please speak, Brother.”
“Do you still like this Tang Clan?”
Even at the abrupt question the boy thought carefully.
“Of course. Mother used to say the Tang Clan has romance in it.”
“What if your brother destroyed the clan you love so much?”
Tang Yuhyeon’s face crumpled. Tears threatened. Then, as though he had made up his mind, he answered.
“Brother would never become a villain. And if such a thing ever happened… I would calm you down myself.”
“You like this Tang Clan that much?”
“Yes!”
“Why?”
“Because you like it too, Brother.”
“I hate this clan to death.”
“Mother said you only hate the clan because you never received Father’s affection. She said that hatred is built on love. If someone truly despises something, they ignore it or never even speak its name.”
“Mother filled your head with strange ideas.”
His younger brother was the same now as he had been later. Even at this tender age he already spoke the words he would one day utter as a grown man.
“So, Brother, stop thinking useless thoughts and follow me quickly.”
Tang Cheonwi pretended reluctance and let himself be led.
Correcting Yuhyeon’s nature will take longer than I expected.
He had believed this was an age before the boy’s self had fully formed. Yet it was already complete—likely the fruit of their mother’s early teaching.
[Hmm. This child has ten million times more talent than you, doesn’t he?]
I’m not so pathetic that I’d grow jealous of my own little brother. Provocations like that won’t work on me.
[Tch. That’s why close brothers are so boring.]
Before long they had reached the innermost part of the clan grounds.
“Brother, please don’t say a single word. If you open your mouth for no reason, Father will scold you even worse.”
Yuhyeon took a deep breath, then walked into the gathering.
“Father, we’ve arrived.”
The middle-aged man he called Father wore a face as cold as a sheet of ice. Because his mouth was shut, the atmosphere was freezing. The surrounding elders, however, brightened at once.
“Oh, if it isn’t Yuhyeon.”
“You’ve already completed the Poison Blood Rite—what brings you here?”
“It seems he dragged that lazy Cheonwi along.”
“This nephew greets his uncles and aunts.”
Tang Yuhyeon offered a bold, clear greeting. The elders smiled with open satisfaction.
“Spirited indeed. Of course—if a child is to lead the Tang Clan someday, he must never lose spirit before his elders.”
“As the youngest poison master in Tang history, I feel even prouder.”
“The clan lord has been blessed with great fortune. Both sons inherited martial talent.”
Yet the moment their eyes fell on Tang Cheonwi, the tone sharpened.
“There is always an exception. How can the eldest young master of the Tang Clan be so utterly lazy?”
“Every drop of Tang blood is diligent—except that boy. He’s a true oddity.”
The conversation reached Tang Cheonwi’s ears.
They’re the same as ever. This is why I hate the clan. They should worry about their own children instead of sticking their noses where they don’t belong.
He shook his head in mild contempt—and his gaze locked squarely with his father’s. A single cold sentence followed.
“Why are you late on such an important day?”
“I overslep—”
Yuhyeon cut him off.
“I was testing a poison on my own body and something went wrong, so I ran to Brother for help.”
The one talent Tang Cheonwi had ever shown was poison identification—the ability to recognize any toxin. That had always been his strength.
“So you are of some use to your brother after all.”
“It was my fault he was late, so please set aside your anger.”
Their father, Tang Baek, turned away.
“Enter before the Poison Blood Rite is delayed any further.”
Yuhyeon offered a small, triumphant smile.
“Heheh, how was my plan?”
“Not bad.”
Their father was not so dull as to miss the boy’s intention. He had simply chosen to overlook it for Yuhyeon’s sake.
“I’ll be back.”
Tang Cheonwi ruffled his brother’s hair once more, then stepped into the cave that held the Poison Blood Pond. From behind him the boy’s voice rang out clear and bright.
“The Brother I know will definitely come out as a poison master! Do your best!”
A smile escaped him at the earnest cheer.
“What a foolish little brat.”