The Eldest Daughter of the Sichuan Tang Clan Protects Her Family

Chapter 22: Accusation

 
The White Sky Pavilion, located at the heart of the Anhui branch of the Martial Alliance, was eerily still. Dust motes danced in the sunlight, the only signs of movement within the otherwise empty hall. All its occupants were below, in the secret underground chamber.
A breathless gatekeeper, his face creased with worry, paced anxiously outside. “Damn it!”

The White Sky Pavilion was a restricted area, a hub for gathering sensitive information not only from Anhui but from across the central plains. Access to the underground chamber had been further restricted two months prior, with the Young Master, the Pavilion Lord, issuing a direct order forbidding entry to anyone but himself.
Orders were orders, but still…!
He glanced nervously behind him, then, with a sigh of resignation, descended into the depths of the White Sky Pavilion. Though defying the Pavilion Lord's orders carried a heavy penalty, he would face the consequences. He couldn't stand idly by while the Namgung Clan, his clan, faced a potential crisis.

***
 

The underground chamber, specifically designed to maintain a frigid temperature, felt like a separate world, detached from reality. Perhaps this was what the Ice Mountain Hell was like. Unlike the warm spring air above, a chilling cold permeated the chamber, the air thick with a white mist that clung to every breath.
Several wooden platforms, large enough for a man to lie on, lined the walls. Upon them lay corpses, their bodies stitched together with black thread, like grotesque rag dolls.
A lone figure, bundled in thick cotton clothes, meticulously removed the threads from one of the bodies, addressing the Young Master and the unit leaders assembled before him.

“In short, the cause of death is poison.”
The coroner removed the threads from around the heart and opened the chest cavity, revealing a blackened, shriveled heart. It had clearly been removed and examined before, resting loosely within the ribcage, like an object placed inside a box.
“It was strange to see such extensive organ damage without any signs of putrefaction. Upon closer examination, I discovered that the blood had turned black.” The coroner wiped the heart with a cloth, the black discoloration transferring to the fabric, revealing the heart’s natural crimson color. “It was the same with the other bodies. I found it odd that there would be ash-like residue within the body. Then, upon further examination, I discovered that the black particles… were insects.”

He shuddered, a look of disgust on his face. He placed the heart back inside the chest cavity and traced the blood vessels leading to it with his finger. “These tiny insects swarmed the heart, blocking the blood flow, causing death.”
He pointed to the blood vessels. Those closest to the heart were completely black, the discoloration fading gradually as they branched outwards, eventually appearing as scattered black spots.
Namgung Jin closed his eyes and rubbed the space between his brows. They had captured nine Blood Cult members and five unidentified warriors, but their interrogation had yielded little. The Blood Cult members had died shortly after arriving in Anhui, blood seeping from every orifice. The five warriors, after days of silence, had offered a few cryptic answers, then died suddenly.

Poisonous insects.
Poison, again.
His eyelids fluttered open, his eyes heavy with fatigue. He recalled the Tang Clan heiress on Mount Emei, the sharp accusation in her eyes when she questioned his suspicions of the Tang Clan. Though it was natural to be offended by such accusations, the intensity of her anger had been unsettling, a cold fury that her smile couldn't mask.

In the past, such a bizarre display of poison techniques would have made him wary of the Tang Clan. Now, however… he sighed and rubbed his chin.
The constant discoveries of poison were becoming suspicious. This overt display of their poison skills felt unnatural, almost deliberate, as if meant to distract him, to focus his attention on the poison itself.
“…Prepare a separate autopsy report, omitting the details of the poisonous insects,” he instructed.
“Yes, Young Master.”

Though he wanted to discreetly investigate the Blood Cult’s activities, he had no choice but to report the incident to the Martial Alliance, especially after their encounter with the Tang and Emei Sects on Mount Emei. Fortunately, the Emei Sect was unaware of the Blood Cult’s involvement. And though the Tang Clan knew, they were unlikely to inform the Emei Sect.
Though different sects within the same branch of the Martial Alliance were ostensibly allies, their relationships were often strained, fueled by years of rivalry and competition for resources and influence.
A few years ago, a dispute over the branch leadership between the Jongnam and Hwasan Sects of the Shaanxi branch had resulted in a violent clash, several buildings reduced to rubble. The Wudang and Jegal Clans of the Hubei branch had long ago established a strict division of territories, carefully avoiding any encroachment on each other’s domains.

The relationship between the Emei, Qingcheng, and Tang Clans of the Sichuan branch was even stranger. Though the Emei and Qingcheng Sects, both adhering to spiritual principles, shared a certain camaraderie, the Tang Clan, known for its pragmatic, worldly approach, was often ostracized.
The Emei and Qingcheng Sects had effectively relinquished control of the Sichuan branch to the Tang Clan, viewing them as mere administrators, while the Tang Clan saw themselves as benevolent leaders, guiding the naive, unworldly sects. Thus, the Tang Clan was unlikely to reveal the Blood Cult’s involvement to the Emei Sect. They had already admitted to a leak of their own poison. Revealing the Blood Cult's use of their poison, even if they were innocent, would only cast further suspicion upon them.
And, most importantly, the Tang Clan had been present at the scene. Concerned about the potential repercussions, they would likely wait for the Namgung Clan’s report before deciding on a course of action.

He intended to share their findings with the Tang Clan before reporting to the Martial Alliance. After all, the Tang Clan had trusted them enough to hand over the captured Blood Cult members.
‘But for them to die from poison as well…’ He would investigate the matter of the poisonous insects discreetly before revealing it. He wanted to keep it hidden, to trace it back to its source, but with other sects involved, maintaining secrecy could backfire.
He estimated it would take about three years to track them down and eliminate them.

His gaze drifted towards the far corner of the chamber. Unlike the other naked corpses, a single body, clad in blue robes, lay on a separate platform. Namgung Jin’s eyes darkened. He needed to proceed discreetly until he had a clearer understanding of the situation, but the Martial Alliance’s regulations, requiring transparency, would give the Blood Cult time to regroup and disappear.
Then…
“Y-Young Master! This is Namgung Sangrim from the Hongcheon Unit! I need to speak with you immediately!” A voice called from outside the chamber.

“You fool! You were ordered not to enter the underground chamber…!” Namgung Munseon’s angry outburst was cut short as Namgung Jin raised his hand, silencing him.
He had forbidden entry to the chamber. For one of his own clan members to defy his orders, claiming urgency, yet hesitating to reveal the reason, was unsettling.
“I’ll be right out,” he said, his gaze still fixed on the corpse.

“I apologize, Young Master, but this is a matter of some urgency…”
Namgung Jin’s gaze shifted towards the door. The voice had abruptly ceased. It wasn’t as if the speaker had stopped talking, but as if the sound itself had been… swallowed.
A strange, unsettling silence filled the chamber. He instinctively reached for his sword.

The door suddenly swung open, and a group of warriors, clad in white uniforms, poured into the chamber.
“What is the meaning of this?! How dare you trespass on another branch’s territory without authorization?!” Namgung Munseon shouted, stepping forward to shield Namgung Jin.
A black emblem was embroidered on the left side of their chests: fifteen thin crescent moons arranged in a circle, the symbol of the Martial Alliance.

Unlike his agitated uncle, Namgung Jin remained silent, his gaze fixed on the open doorway. The silence was more unsettling than the intrusion itself. The frozen hinges of the heavy door always emitted a loud, grating screech. Yet, they had opened silently, smoothly, without a sound.
And even the headquarters didn't have the authority to barge into another branch’s territory like this.
Except for one…

A sense of foreboding washed over him, and he tightened his grip on his sword hilt.
The Martial Alliance, a powerful coalition of fifteen prominent sects. It was impossible for a single person to control such a vast and diverse organization. Thus, the first Alliance Leader had established the Four Seasons Hall to mediate disputes and maintain balance between the member sects.
Within the Four Seasons Hall were the Spring Discernment Pavilion, which mediated disputes based on the Martial Alliance's regulations; the Summer Revelation Pavilion, which investigated accusations of wrongdoing within the branches; the Autumn Inspection Pavilion, which audited the branches based on information received by the Summer Revelation Pavilion; and the Winter Punishment Pavilion, which enforced the judgments of the Spring Discernment Pavilion.

Only one of the Four Pavilions had the authority to enter another branch’s territory without prior notice: the Autumn Inspection Pavilion.
However, this was the Anhui branch, protected by the Namgung Clan’s formidable forces, not some weak, easily infiltrated outpost.
As if to confirm his suspicions, the warriors parted, creating a path. A lone figure walked through the opening. He reached the center of the chamber without a sound, his face devoid of any expression.

Shoulder-length hair swayed gently around his slender face. But it was his eyes, not his almost feminine features, that commanded attention: pale, grayish-blue eyes, clouded as if with a perpetual mist.
Jegal In-hwi, the Lord of the Four Seasons Hall, his blind eyes fixed straight ahead. Though seemingly unable to see, he stopped precisely before the platform where the corpses lay.
A heavy silence descended upon the chamber. His eyelids fluttered open and closed, revealing glimpses of his pale, watery eyes. He stood motionless, as if reading the air currents, assessing the situation.

Then, his lips, which had been pressed together in a thin line, curved into a gentle smile.
“It seems the White Sky Pavilion has acquired a new coroner, Young Master.” His soft voice, cutting through the frigid air, hung heavy between the Namgung Clan and the Four Seasons Hall.