Just as Cho Yoon tried to deflect by saying he’d just come down from the mountains and didn’t know much yet, sharp-witted Sa-yeong clasped her fists in salute and bowed first.
“My apologies for the delayed greeting, Great Hero Tang! We were so captivated by the honor of being invited into your legendary estate that we momentarily lost ourselves in awe. It is a profound privilege to meet a true master of the poison arts in person!”
Sa-yeong offered her greetings in a clear, resonant voice, prompting Sa-hyeon and Cheon-oh—who had been standing by with wide eyes—to follow suit with their own formal salutes.
In a world where honor and hierarchy were valued above all else, and where a misplaced word or a failed courtesy could spark a bloodbath, her quick wit had saved their first impression from total disaster.
I suppose being the disciples of Cho Yoon already earns them a fair bit of resentment, Cho Yoon thought, letting out a silent breath of relief.
He decided to add a sharp remark of his own; if he lingered in this stifling atmosphere any longer, he felt he might suffer from chronic indigestion.
“They appear that way only because I chose not to waste their time on hollow formalities,” Cho Yoon said, his voice cold. “I have words for your ears alone. Hurry.”
“Indeed. We have prepared a private space for the Esteemed Immortal Healer. Please, this way,” Tang Yeom-cho replied, before turning a stern eye toward the merchant. “Nan Wi-jeong, what is that thing you brought with you? See that you conduct yourself with some semblance of dignity.”
“Yes, Clan Head.”
“Woon-geum,” Yeom-cho continued, addressing a small figure in the crowd. “Show the Immortal Healer’s disciples the pavilions and artifacts of our clan. Ensure they do not grow bored.”
“Yes, Grandfather!”
The voice belonged to a girl of about ten years. With her hair meticulously braided and tied into two round buns, she bounced out from the ranks with a radiant expression.
She scurried over and grabbed Sa-yeong’s hand, tugging with unbridled energy.
“Eonni, Eonni! Come this way! You have to see this!”
“Oh! Wait—”
Startled by the girl’s sudden, overwhelming friendliness, Sa-yeong looked back at Cho Yoon for guidance. Cho Yoon, however, was wrestling with his own internal shock.
Woon-geum? Tang Woon-geum?
Was this the very same Tang Woon-geum who would become one of the main heroines in The Returned Hero?
The one the original ‘Cho Yoon’ was destined to treat?
In the logic of Wuxia novels, it was common to group beautiful women of the protagonist’s generation into titles like ‘The Three Beauties’ or ‘The Five Phoenixes.’
Specifically, the trope of a ‘stunning beauty raised in the secluded Tang Clan who experiences a man like the protagonist for the first time’ was a staple for male readers.
The Returned Hero had followed that blueprint to the letter.
They just can’t abandon the fantasy of a brilliant, haughty woman becoming a total scatterbrain only for the hero, Cho Yoon sighed inwardly.
Tang Woon-geum had been one of the reasons Jeong Hayoon used to skim through the original novel with a cynical gaze. Despite being the beloved youngest daughter and a promising poison master, she had fallen for every trap set by the Demonic Cult and the Namgung Clan with exhausting regularity.
By the time the plot demanded that she contract an incurable poison that even the Tang Clan couldn’t cure, forcing her to seek out Cho Yoon, the sheer contrivance of it had made Cho Yoon groan aloud.
Furthermore, every sentence she spoke in the book seemed to begin with a huff or a derisive snort. A single word from the protagonist would turn her face beet-red, causing her to stammer and pick fights for no reason.
It was painful to read.
Cho Yoon had often wondered if the author had ever actually met a real woman—or, for that matter, a real person.
But the girl standing there now…
Is it because she’s still so young? She doesn’t seem haughty or prickly at all.
She looked like a child thrilled to meet outsiders for the first time in her life. She was, quite frankly, adorable.
Cho Yoon offered a small nod to the visibly flustered Sa-yeong.
[Go with her. I will finish my business quickly, so wait for me. Do not touch anything dangerous, stay out of trouble, and look after your brothers, Sa-yeong.]
Sa-yeong met his eyes and pressed her lips together in a firm nod before turning back to Woon-geum with a bright, practiced smile. “Very well, Young Lady Tang. We are in your care! Sa-hyeon, Cheon-oh, let’s go!”
“Right!” Sa-hyeon chirped.
Cheon-oh lingered for a moment, his gaze fixed on Cho Yoon until the master gave a subtle nod of approval. Only then did he follow the others into the distance.
Cho Yoon turned back to Tang Yeom-cho, feeling his energy drain before the conversation had even begun.
Yeom-cho led him not to a formal meeting hall, but to his private quarters—a massive structure adorned with a plaque that read “Pavilion of Emerald Pillars.”
This residence was exclusively built for the sovereign of the Tang Clan.
Wuxia novels really are just a flavor of high fantasy, Cho Yoon mused, staring at the grand architecture.
Thick, crimson wooden pillars supported a heavy roof of black tiles, while the eaves swept upward toward the clouds as if to proclaim the clan’s absolute pride.
The sense of wonder didn’t fade once they stepped inside. Every room, separated by delicate paper-screen doors, radiated the familiar, pungent scent of medicinal herbs. It was clear that Yeom-cho’s obsession with research had never wavered.
Upon entering the innermost sanctum, Yeom-cho meticulously locked the door behind them. He shuttered the circular windows and circulated his internal energy to erect a barrier of silence around the room.
Whatever we’re about to discuss must be highly classified, Cho Yoon noted with a trace of wariness. But the words that actually left Yeom-cho’s mouth far exceeded his expectations.
“Seeing as you followed Nan Wi-jeong here, I assume you have also heard the rumors regarding the Divine Artifact,” Yeom-cho said, his voice dropping into a conspiratorial low. “Who was it? Nan Wi-jeong already visited the Zhuge Clan. Was it that brat Peng Chi-jeong of the Hebei Peng Clan? Or perhaps that wretched monk?”
Divine Artifact? What on earth is he talking about?
Cho Yoon stood paralyzed.
He had come here simply to soothe the ego of a man Cho Yoon had humiliated twenty years ago and convince him to lift the clan’s isolation. He was just trying to clean up the mess his predecessor had left behind.
Unaware of Cho Yoon’s confusion, Tang Yeom-cho sank into a chair and let out a sigh so heavy it seemed to rattle the floorboards. The mask of the prideful Clan Head slipped, revealing a weary seventy-year-old man burdened by care.
“I heard that shrewd brat Nan Wi-jeong made a presumptuous request of you,” Yeom-cho grumbled. “That fool. He has no idea what his own grandfather is thinking. I already intended to lift the seal soon. I assume you refrained from giving him a firm answer because you already sensed that. Ah, please—have a seat.”
He was going to lift the seal anyway?
Cho Yoon sat down slowly in the opposing chair, his mind spinning. He knew from the novel that the seal would eventually be lifted, but he had hoped to accelerate the process for the sake of the people of Sichuan who were suffering under the blockade.
And Nan Wi-jeong is his grandson?
Cho Yoon felt a sudden wave of mental exhaustion as the family tree rearranged itself in his head.
Yeom-cho, oblivious to his guest’s internal crisis, began to vent his frustrations like an old man sharing his troubles over a fence.
“Please forgive the discourtesy Nan Wi-jeong and I have shown you, Elder. I know such trifles do not trouble you, but my heart is not at ease. I don’t know what the world thinks of me, but if I don’t act like a prickly old eccentric, the elders start whining that the Tang Clan’s dignity is fading. I’m so embarrassed I can hardly show my face.”
Wait… Cho Yoon had just assumed the man was a typical ‘boomer’ master who enjoyed being worshipped. He never expected there to be such a pathetic reality behind the facade.
“That boy Nan Wi-jeong… he is the grandson my useless second son had out of wedlock with a daughter from our affiliated merchant guild. The boy showed such promise that I tried to raise him properly, but he refused to be officially entered into the family registers, claiming he had no desire to be part of the Tang Clan. Still, he is one of our own and carries my blood. I intend to look after him to the end. Ah, where are my manners? I’ve forgotten the tea.”
Cho Yoon felt a bit overwhelmed by the sudden influx of TMI (too-much-information). He had been in the room for less than ten minutes and already knew the clan head’s dirty laundry. He hadn’t asked for this, yet knowing the truth made him feel a reluctant spark of empathy.
Yeom-cho sighed again and produced a tea set. By merely placing his hand against the side of the kettle, he brought the water to a boil with a surge of formidable internal energy. He steeped the leaves and handed Cho Yoon a warmed cup.
Cho Yoon took a sip, grateful for the distraction.
The tea, brewed with the power of a master at the peak of the Unrestrained Realm, possessed a perfect, exquisite flavor.
Yeom-cho took a sip of his own and continued with a somber expression. “I was so focused on expanding the family’s power that I failed to see how the minds of my brothers and children were hardening. Tsk. Such stubborn, prideful fools. It is only natural that there is always a higher mountain, yet instead of accepting it with humility, they cling to their shattered pride like starving dogs. It’s pathetic.”
“It is difficult for a man to accept that the work of his entire life is inferior to that of another,” Cho Yoon replied, his voice maintaining its neutral, cold edge.
“In the current state of the Murim, they should be focusing on their training, yet all they do is stagnate,” Yeom-cho lamented. “You must have foreseen this twenty years ago, Elder. You gave us the time to turn inward and build our inner strength. I didn’t realize it then, but at my age, I’m finally beginning to see the truth. Your foresight—honed over a lifetime three times the length of my own—is truly breathtaking. The more your intent is revealed, the more I find myself in awe.”
Cho Yoon stared into his tea, his throat tightening.
He’s got it all wrong. He thinks the Immortal Healer had some grand, benevolent plan to lock down the clan for their own good. According to the fragments of memory surfacing in his mind, the truth was far less noble. No, you old fool! The original Cho Yoon just thought your clan’s poisons were mildly interesting and decided to mess with you!
Even though his lips were free, he knew he could never speak that truth aloud.