I Thought I Was Trash, Turns Out I'm a Grand Master
The Sichuan Dang Clan.
Across the vast lands of Sichuan, they reigned as undisputed hegemons, their presence so overwhelming that even the Qingcheng and Emei Sects dared not set foot in their shadow.
When it came to poison and hidden weapons, no family in the world—Orthodox, Unorthodox, or Demonic—carried a name that weighed heavier. They were every bit as famous for settling debts of gratitude and grudge with ruthless thoroughness, and their grudges above all; theirs was the family known to drag the dead out of hell itself if that was what revenge required.
They were renowned, above all, for their signature brand of sinister martial arts. Those who remembered the Poison King Dang Jihwan at the height of one of his rampages all told it the same way: it was like watching a swarm of ink-black, blood-red serpents devour everything in their path.
Setting aside the fact that Muyeong has no dantian at all, that power of his is dangerous.
That was the impression Dang Mulin formed as she watched her little brother hold out his hand toward her, beaming, energy coiled in his palm.
By the very nature of the Poison-Blood Heart Art, a practitioner could not wield their poison qi visibly enough for the naked eye until the art reached half-mastery—and even at full mastery, it never took on any color but a blackish-red. Which meant the energy welling up in Dang Muyeong's hand was, without question, something else entirely.
"Sis! This is how you do it, right? I think I might actually be talented!"
Yet the energy Muyeong so proudly flaunted, glowing like a child who'd just been handed a brand-new toy, was plainly different from anything Dang Jihwan or Dang Mulin could raise.
It was as if... as if someone had dragged a single black brushstroke across a sheet of red paper...
Muyeong's internal energy wasn't 'blackish-red'—it was black and red, each its own color. Looking at it, Mulin felt a chill crawl up her spine.
It feels different from Father's, but that thing is dangerous, no question...
She must have tensed up without realizing it, because her clenched fist was slick with sweat.
"Ohh... So I really was a genius all along!"
Drunk on his own brilliance, Muyeong kept cooing in admiration at himself, until Mulin finally spoke up.
"Muyeong. Quit puffing that internal energy around and come with me for a second, would you?"
Wearing a mildly sulky expression, I wondered what this was about, but I ambled over to her all the same.
"What? Isn't this how it's done?"
At my question, Mulin smiled a vaguely complicated smile and patted my head.
"It does look right... but I think we should go show Father first."
Out of nowhere. A thread of unease crept into my voice.
"Did I do something wrong?"
"No, it's not that... It's just that the color of your internal energy is a little... unusual. It'd be better if Father took a look at it."
She kept circling around the point like she was hiding something, and the creeping discomfort of it made me refuse.
"Can't I just keep using it like this? I feel perfectly fine..."
Mulin shook her head.
"We're going to see Father."
Her tone brooked no argument, so I surrendered to fate and trailed after her retreating back.
A short while later, I was sitting before Dang Jihwan with Mulin at my side.
"...I'll have to see it with my own eyes first."
Having heard Mulin's account of what had happened at the training grounds, Dang Jihwan tilted his head, puzzled.
"Muyeong. Go on, show me."
So I drew the poison qi up through my body, exactly as I had on the training grounds. Before long, that same black-and-red energy was coiling in my right palm.
"Heh..."
At the sight of it, Dang Jihwan let out a short, disbelieving laugh—then reached out, pinched my cheek, and started kneading it, chuckling all the while.
"Hahahaha..."
Once again captured by the cheek, I could only mumble through a lopsided mouth.
"Eyyy? Whad oo keep doin' dat for?"
Dang Jihwan didn't dignify that with a response. He closed his eyes and concentrated on something for a long moment, then opened them again, released my cheek, and said:
"Looks like you'll be fine."
Where had all these words been when he was kneading his own son's cheek like rice dough? Mulin asked, her face full of suspicion:
"Father, then why exactly is Muyeong's internal energy that color?"
"Hmm..."
Dang Jihwan mulled it over for a while before answering.
"I couldn't tell you the exact reason myself."
"Then what are we supposed to..."
"That said, when I swept through Muyeong's body just now, I found that the boy is circulating his qi through his middle dantian."
When Mulin's expression demanded more, Dang Jihwan drummed the desk with his index finger.
"You're right that there's not so much as a trace of a lower dantian in his body... and yet, bizarrely enough, he's running his middle dantian and somehow, somehow, producing internal energy anyway."
"How does that even work..."
"Your guess is as good as mine."
At his words I flinched inwardly, but I kept my face perfectly blank, nodding along and going ooh like a dim, innocent bystander.
"In any case, the strange color that shows up when he manifests his internal energy is simply because that boy is running his internal energy and his poison qi as two separate things."
Even that explanation left Mulin looking more lost than ever.
"So in effect, he's using a degraded version of the Poison-Blood Heart Art?"
Dang Jihwan wagged his head.
"Hard to put it that way... He isn't converting internal energy into poison qi. He's using both at once."
He had a point, I conceded to myself. Dual-boxing two energy streams really is more efficient. Mm-hmm.
Dang Jihwan added his middle finger to the drumming—tuk-tuk, tuk-tuk against the desk—sunk deep in thought.
"Hmm..."
After humming to himself for a spell, he turned to me.
"Muyeong."
"Yes?"
"Word from the Medicine Hall Master is that you've gained Myriad Poisons Immunity. Is that true?"
I answered with a sheepish grin.
"Ah... yes. Apparently when I died and came back to life, I picked up a fortuitous blessing."
Dang Jihwan studied my careless smile for a moment, then went on.
"To begin with, even if you mastered the Poison-Blood Heart Art, nothing much would change—you'd simply be able to draw out more poison qi, that's all..."
"Then Muyeong's way is the correct..."
"Now, if you could run them together the way Muyeong does, then in theory—given the same realm of mastery—you could use it far more flexibly, but..."
"Then should I throw the Poison-Blood Heart Art or whatever it's called out the window and just learn that method—"
"That method is one only that boy can ever use. Enough nonsense. You will master the Poison-Blood Heart Art like you're meant to."
"Why?!"
Mulin cried out at her father, looking genuinely aggrieved, and Dang Jihwan gazed back with an expression of fond exasperation before continuing his explanation.
"Think it through. What he's doing isn't poison-humanization—it's simply what it looks like when a poisoned Transcendent Realm master uses internal energy and the poison comes out mixed in."
"Ohhh....."
Whether I nodded along in admiration beside him or not, he couldn't have cared less; he carried right on.
"Now, use some common sense. Do you really think the current Alliance Leader would grow stronger if he poisoned himself with his own two hands, just for the sake of wielding two kinds of energy like Muyeong does?"
"Well, that's..."
"That boy can manage it because he's immune to every poison under heaven. So erase that method from your head. Or go acquire a Myriad Poisons Immunity Body yourself and give it a try."
When Dang Jihwan's lecture had finally run its course, Mulin spoke with a faintly bitter look on her face.
"Haa... I understand."
"Truthfully, there are a few other oddities besides this one... but nothing that looks like a real problem."
Listening to Dang Jihwan breezily skate right over the actually important parts, I quietly relaxed. He's not suspicious at all...
"In any case—forging a heart method all his own... by any generous grading, that makes you a Grand Master."
Booming out a laugh, plainly delighted that his son had invented an entirely new divine art, Dang Jihwan ruffled my hair as he continued.
"At this point the old formulas won't mean much of anything... And instead of inner cores from spirit beasts, I suppose we'd best keep him stocked up on poison cores to feed on."
Leaving Dang Jihwan to his unmistakable joy and Mulin to her dumbfounded stare, I thought to myself: The Poison King himself just gave it his seal of approval. I can swing this power around however I like and nothing bad will come of it.
Dang Jihwan looked down at me with a fond, paternal gleam and smiled contentedly.
"In any case, Murin."
"Yes..."
"Teach Muyeong nothing beyond the Light Body Technique and the hidden-weapon arts. As for a heart method, the boy must blaze that trail himself..."
"Understood..."
And so ended the conversation between a Dang Jihwan bursting with fatherly pride, a Dang Mulin still lost in confusion, and a Dang Muyeong who was simply having a lovely time.
After we left the Clan Leader's Hall, Mulin turned to me.
"Thank goodness nothing's actually wrong with you."
I answered her heartfelt congratulations in kind.
"It's all thanks to you, Sis. Thank you."
Meanwhile, someone else was glaring daggers at the affectionate pair, muttering under their breath.
"Fucking bastards, every last one of them... tch....."
Before long, Muyeong and Mulin departed from the front of the Clan Leader's Hall—and the figure who'd been hissing venom at the clan leader's children vanished just as quietly as they had appeared.
I strolled along beside Mulin, chatting idly as we went.
"Muyeong, it's just about time for lunch, and the day's only going to get hotter. I'll teach you the Light Body Technique and hidden weapons tomorrow."
"Sounds good! Summer really is on its way, huh? It's getting warm."
"Just come to the training grounds by eight tomorrow morning, same as today."
With that, Mulin waved and headed off toward her own quarters.
"So I'll eat, and then... do what, exactly?"
I was still mulling over how to spend the rest of my day as I made for my quarters when—
"It's been a while, Young Master."
Someone had called out to me. I turned to find a handsome young man with narrow, slit-like eyes approaching.
His face was oddly familiar, and the thought that surfaced was—
Wow... this guy is one hundred percent a villain...
I was still thinking exactly that when he introduced himself.
"I heard you'd lost your memory. My name is Dang Giyeong, grandson of the Elder Council Head."
His slit eyes curved into crescent moons as he smiled his greeting—and in that instant, I carelessly swapped my thought for my words.
"Wow... if this guy turns out to be a good person, I will eat my hat."
Ah... pleased to meet you.
"...Pardon?"
He blinked at my outburst, and I scrambled to answer.
"Ah—no, nothing."
"I was just thinking about something, and you startled me by speaking so suddenly. The words came out wrong."
I desperately cast the classic 'It's your fault I said it wrong!' excuse with all the skill I could muster.
Fortunately, he simply laughed it off with another of those suspicious smiles.
"Ah, it happens to me too, sometimes. Think nothing of it."
He was being friendly to a degree that was suspicious in itself, and I couldn't help but stay slightly on guard as I asked:
"But... why did you approach me all of a sudden...?"
He answered with perfect composure.
"Do you happen to have any free time after lunch, Young Master?"
"Nothing in particular, no..."
"Then why not come out to the market streets with me for a bit of a stroll?"
His smile had grown more ominous still, and unease prickled at me—but I reasoned that surely nothing could go wrong with my escort trailing behind, and accepted his offer.
"That's a wonderful idea, actually. My body was just aching to get out."
"Then shall we say one in the afternoon?"
"Yes... very well."
Watching Dang Giyeong stroll away—somehow, without my quite noticing, an appointment had been made—I sank into quiet contemplation.
No matter how I look at it, he's got to be the assassin... Honestly, with a face like that, if he's not a villain it ought to be a crime. A crime, I say...
I engraved the three syllables of Dang Giyeong firmly into my memory, then set my steps toward my quarters once more.