“Young Lady Tang, even first-generation disciples of the Tang Clan need an elder’s permission to enter Pavilion of Ten Thousand Poisons. No matter if you’re the disciple of the great physician—outsiders are not allowed in.”

“I am certain you will be permitted entry once you pass the Age of Learning, Young Lady Tang. Do not fret!”

“Mm… do you really think so?”

Woon-geum murmured her assent, though her wistful gaze remained anchored to the Pavilion of Ten Thousand Poisons.

As the second-generation disciples fluttered about her with frantic reassurances, Sa-yeong watched the display with a mixture of quiet amusement and mounting disdain.

It was, quite frankly, a laughable sight: a pack of fledgling warriors whose pride outstripped their courage, unable to express their hostility for fear of the consequences, fawning over a precious young lady who was being raised in a gilded cage of ignorance.

Sa-yeong wondered what kind of adults they would eventually become. Had it not been for her two brothers, whose unpredictable tongues constantly threatened to ruin her good mood, she might have settled in to enjoy the spectacle.

Suddenly, the voice of one particularly incensed disciple cut through her thoughts.

“Besides,” the boy said, his tone dripping with a confidence that bordered on the delusional, “our guests likely have no interest in the Pavilion of Ten Thousand Poisons anyway.”

“Oh? And why is that?” Sa-yeong asked, her eyes widening in feigned curiosity.

The disciple’s face contorted as if he were staring at a blood enemy. “Are you not the disciples of the Immortal Healer? It is a well-known tale that twenty years ago, the Great Hero Cho Yoon dismantled and neutralized every secret toxin of our Sichuan Tang Clan, including the Seven-Step Soul-Severing Powder and the Five-Poison Life-Taking Pill. Surely he has already taught you the secrets of our arts.”

Sa-yeong nearly choked on a bark of laughter.

While she was impressed by the revelation of her master’s past exploits, she was more struck by the sheer pathetic nature of the man before her. The stupidity required to boast of one’s own clan’s shame, the arrogance to assume the Immortal Healer would bother teaching his disciples the Tang Clan’s “lesser” poisons, and the pettiness of blaming the one who defeated them rather than reflecting on their own inadequacy—it was all quite a lot to take in.

So, even disciples of a prestigious righteous clan can be absolute non-entities, she mused.

She realized then that twenty years of secluded cultivation didn’t necessarily make a man great; some people were simply beyond saving. The thought left her in high spirits, bolstered by a childish, competitive urge to flaunt the fact that her master was clearly superior to these wealthy, self-important fools.

Remembering her audience, Sa-yeong quickly smoothed her expression and offered Tang Woon-geum a slight, respectful bow. “Do not mind him, Young Lady Tang. We are more than satisfied simply by the honor of seeing these magnificent pavilions. To be permitted within the Tang Clan estate—a place no different from a forbidden zone to outsiders—is a privilege we shall treasure.”

“Really?” Woon-geum asked, her eyes brightening.

“Of course.”

In reality, we haven’t touched a single drop of poison, Sa-yeong thought. Master told us not to bother with such things. Even our youngest is focused on medicine, not toxins.

That youngest disciple was currently ignoring the opulent Pavilion of Ten Thousand Poisons entirely, his head constantly swiveling back toward the Pavilion of Emerald Pillars where Cho Yoon had disappeared.

Even Sa-hyeon, whom Sa-yeong considered the most immature of the three, was simply staring slack-jawed at the vibrant dancheong patterns on the eaves.

I really am the only one here capable of reading the room, Sa-yeong lamented, her lips twitching with the burden of being the only sensible sibling in a den of clueless boys.

Woon-geum nodded at Sa-yeong’s words, counting off her fingers as she pondered their next move. “Mm, where to go next? We’ve seen the Emerald Pillars, the Emerald Jade, the Wood Immortal, the Longevity, and the Snow Leaf pavilions…”

“I fear we have already imposed too much upon your hospitality, Young Lady Tang,” Sa-yeong interrupted politely. “If you could simply show us to a small room, we would be happy to wait quietly until our Master concludes his business with the Clan Head.”

If I have to look at another green roof, I’m going to scream, Sa-yeong added internally. One or two buildings is a tour; an entire afternoon of staring at identical pavilions with different plaques is a chore.

Contrary to her expectations, Sa-yeong’s polite request sent a wave of joy across Woon-geum’s face. “In that case, would you mind if I joined you? The Immortal Healer’s disciples must have seen so much of the world! I’ve never been allowed outside these walls. I only ever hear stories from the Elders and my parents. I want to hear everything, Eonni!”

“Oh… well…”

“Please?” Woon-geum begged, looking up with wide, hopeful eyes.

Despite her worldly cynicism, Sa-yeong found herself at a loss. She had spent her life cultivating a friendly persona to manipulate adults or to protect her brother, but she had never encountered a child who called her “Eonni” with such genuine, guileless affection.

As Sa-yeong gazed into Woon-geum’s eyes, completely oblivious to the icy friction between their two factions, her defenses began to crumble. She momentarily forgot that her only real life experiences involved the slums of Guangdong and the treacherous Point of No Return Mountain Range.

“Of course! It would be our pleasure to converse with you, Young Lady Tang.”

“Yay! Then follow me! We’ll go to my room!”

Dammit, Sa-yeong thought, a wave of regret washing over her as she followed the skipping girl. I can’t tell a high-born lady about the time I stole fish from the market to survive. All that’s left is the scenery around the Estate of Deep Mists, and that won’t last five minutes. And those two idiots behind me won’t help at all.

She swallowed her anxiety, ignoring the indignant protests of the Tang disciples who were scandalized by the idea of outsiders entering the young lady’s private quarters. She prayed that Cho Yoon would finish his business soon so they could flee back to the inn.

Then, like a miracle, her master’s voice rang out across the courtyard.

“Have you finished your tour?”

“Master?”

Sa-yeong spun around to see Cho Yoon standing a few yards away, his presence as silent and sudden as a ghost. He had discarded his medicine box somewhere and stood unburdened, his face fully visible in the sunlight for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

The bickering Tang disciples fell silent, drawing sharp breaths as they scrambled backward. Woon-geum’s eyes went wide as she reflexively released Sa-yeong’s sleeve.

Thank God, Sa-yeong thought, her face breaking into a radiant smile. I won’t be trapped in a nursery after all. “Master! Are you finished with your business?”

“Our discussion is concluded. However, things will be delayed slightly. Come here; it is better that we stay together.”

Cho Yoon paused, reaching out to ruffle Cheon-oh’s hair as the boy reached him first.

Sa-yeong wondered if it was her imagination, or if her master’s perpetually stoic face looked just as weary and cornered as she had felt moments ago. She offered Woon-geum a quick, formal bow before approaching Cho Yoon.

“Has something else happened?” she asked softly.

“…”

Cho Yoon’s gaze drifted toward the middle distance.

Sa-yeong, following his gaze, observed a flurry of activity. Men in green robes were rushing about with frantic energy. Even the disciples who had been bothering them earlier had dashed off at a sudden summons. It was evident that they were preparing for a significant event.

When Cho Yoon finally spoke, his voice was as steady and indifferent as ever, yet the words sent a thrill of anticipation through Sa-yeong’s chest.

“A contest has been called.”

The first contest in twenty years.

It was a pivotal event that could either lead to the Sichuan Tang Clan’s long-awaited redemption or result in a crushing defeat that would leave them unable to recover.

Cho Yoon delivered the news with the detached calm of a transcendent being, unswayed by the chaos of the mortal world.

Sa-yeong felt her heart beginning to drum against her ribs.

***

How did I let this happen?

Cho Yoon swallowed hard as he surveyed the “arena” being rapidly constructed in front of the Pavilion of Snow Leaves.

It wasn’t an elaborate setup; the Tang Clan had simply laid out a large straw mat in the center of the marble courtyard, flanked by various tools for toxin preparation.

A ring of wooden chairs was being arranged several yards back to accommodate the spectators.

The sun sat directly at its zenith, bathing the scene in a light so perfect he couldn’t even use the “too late in the day” excuse.

Cho Yoon resigned himself to his fate and took his seat in the place of honor. To his relief, his three children had been seated nearby, allowing them a front-row view of the impending disaster.

He had only agreed because a seventy-year-old man had prostrated himself and begged with such desperation that Cho Yoon’s modern heart couldn’t take it.

Now, however, he was having serious second thoughts.

A contest… I’m not even sure what the rules are, Cho Yoon fretted internally. Does he want me to brew an antidote? Is it a “try to stop this if you can” kind of thing?

He understood the sentiment.

The Tang Clan’s pride had been shattered by a single wandering martial artist, and they were desperate for a chance at payback. But if they had lost with centuries of accumulated knowledge twenty years ago, did they truly believe that whatever they had cooked up in isolation would be enough to challenge the Immortal Healer now?

Cho Yoon watched the arena with a mounting sense of bewilderment.