The Eldest Daughter of the Sichuan Tang Clan Protects Her Family

Chapter 33: The Sketch

The Namgung heir, tasked with delivering the reparations, requested a private audience with Tang Sohwa every day. And every day, she found an excuse to avoid him.
“Is today the day the Namgung Clan departs?”
“No, Miss. Tomorrow.”

Sohwa nodded. “Then inform the Young Master that I’m unavailable today as well.”
“Yes, Miss.”
She intended to meet with him eventually. Just not yet.

“And the ingredients you requested have been delivered to your quarters.”
“Good. Let’s return.”
Tang Sohwa returned to her quarters.

Upon entering, she noticed an embroidery frame and various colored threads arranged on her desk. Behind the desk, a large piece of red silk was draped across the wall.
She walked towards it, her gaze fixed on the intricate white lines sketched across the crimson fabric, a sea of red dotted with delicate, foam-like patterns. It was the underdrawing for an embroidery piece, a massive piece of silk, large enough for two adults to lie on, its surface almost entirely covered with intricate designs.
It was a daunting task, yet Sohwa’s expression remained unchanged, devoid of any emotion.

She walked to the edge of the fabric and paused, her gaze lifting upwards. A large circle, divided in half by a curved line, was sketched near the top. A swirling, wave-like pattern within the circle, reminiscent of the taegeuk symbol, with three radiating lines extending outwards, like the rays of the sun.
She studied the image, her mind drifting back to a memory from her past life. ‘Three years from now, the head disciple of the Wudang Sect will die. His body, blackened as if scorched by the sun, his internal organs withered and dried.’
This massive embroidery piece was a record of her past life.

She knew too much, too many details that would inevitably fade and blur with time, mingling with her current life’s memories. And recording them in writing was too dangerous. So, she had chosen this method, a visual record only she could decipher.
She studied the sketch, testing herself, seeing if she could recall the corresponding memories.
Below the sun, a series of overlapping lines represented a mountain range. A long river flowed through the mountains, widening as it flowed downwards. At the edge of the fabric, four plum blossoms, carried by the river current, were scattered along the riverbank.

Her gaze shifted to the right, following the riverbank to a small ferry crossing. A green forest bordered the river, the path leading towards a city, a bustling metropolis filled with buildings and people, a cacophony of noise and activity. A tall pavilion, its roof adorned with fifteen lanterns, stood out amidst the urban landscape. The lanterns were depicted radiating a bright light, disproportionately large compared to their actual size.
‘Fifteen years from now, the leader of the Anguk Merchant Group will become engaged to Jegal Cheon-yu. The Jegal Clan Head’s son-in-law possesses an internal energy as radiant as light itself.’
The Anguk Merchant Group leader was the only person whose internal energy she had perceived visually. His unusual energy suggested a formidable, albeit hidden, power. However, his display of internal energy before Namgung Hyeon made it difficult to determine his allegiance. She needed to know more about him.
Having examined the entire sketch, she walked to the desk and retrieved a basket containing her embroidery tools. She stretched the silk taut across the embroidery frame, securing it with bamboo strips, then knelt before it.

Rustle.
A thin silver needle pierced the smooth fabric. The tasks before her, the steps she needed to take, arranged themselves in a clear, precise order, her movements fluid and practiced.
She felt a sense of calm, of purpose. She had repaid her only debt of kindness today. Now, she could focus on what remained.

* * *
 

“Young Master.” Namgung Munseon, his face grim, approached Namgung Jin.
With the delivery of the reparations complete, Namgung Jin’s final task was finished. He was scheduled to return to the main estate, settle his affairs, and enter seclusion.
His uncle, who disapproved of his decision, seized the opportunity to voice his objections. “Do you really have to enter seclusion?” The Clan Head was being unreasonable. He hadn’t acted with malice, he had endured hardships, risked his life, and for what?

Shouldn't the Namgung Clan, at least, offer him some support?
Namgung Jin smiled faintly, about to reassure him, when a sudden presence near the entrance made them both turn their heads, the guards at the door reacting similarly.
A maid entered the room, unfazed by the warriors’ scrutinizing gazes. She bowed her head respectfully. “Greetings, Young Master Namgung.” Her voice, soft and demure, trailed off, then continued, “Miss Tang Sohwa has agreed to grant you a private audience.”

Namgung Jin immediately stood up, as if forgetting their earlier conversation.
“Lead the way.”
As Namgung Munseon stood up as well, sighing inwardly, the maid said, “She requested to speak with you alone.”

“That’s preposterous!” Namgung Munseon’s outburst was met with a calm nod from Namgung Jin.
“Very well.”
“Young Master!”

“Please wait here, Uncle.”
“Young Master, this is…”
“Yes, this is the Tang Clan estate. I doubt they would harm me here.” His firm tone silenced his uncle. He had already suffered enough humiliation today, thanks to his suspicions of the Tang Clan.

Namgung Jin followed the maid, leaving his uncle standing there, his lips tightly pressed together.
They reached their destination quickly. It was a red pavilion, its ornate facade unmistakable. The Hongso Pavilion. He recognized the building, its extravagant design hard to forget. He had been here before, as a child, accompanying his father on a visit to the Tang Clan.
To be granted access to the pavilion used to receive the Namgung Clan Head… It seemed the Tang Clan’s eldest daughter held a position of considerable influence.

The maid led him to a large pond behind the pavilion, Tang Sohwa standing at the center of a bridge that spanned the water. The maid stopped at the edge of the bridge, gesturing for him to approach. He walked towards the center of the bridge, alone.
As he reached her, Tang Sohwa spoke. “This location offers no place to hide, making eavesdropping impossible. And the formation beneath the pond prevents any sound from escaping. That is why I chose this location for our meeting.”
“Must you be so cautious even within your own home?” Namgung Jin asked, his voice laced with amusement.

Tang Sohwa raised an eyebrow. “Is the Namgung Clan any different?”
He chuckled, avoiding a direct answer.
“Why are you laughing?” His evasiveness irritated her.

He shook his head, still chuckling softly. “No reason. Most people, even during private audiences, keep their family members nearby. You seem to trust me, an outsider, more than your own clan.” Though his voice was light, his eyes were serious.
He added, “It seems you have something you wish to discuss with me… privately.”
He was perceptive, annoyingly so. She did have something to discuss, but she wasn't sure she could trust him, this cunning, perceptive young man.

As she hesitated, he suddenly bowed, his hands clasped together respectfully. He straightened slightly, his gaze meeting hers.
“Before we begin, I would like to apologize.” His voice was sincere. “My limited understanding led me to suspect the Tang Clan. I’m truly sorry.”
She dismissed his apology with a curt nod. “That matter has already been settled with the reparations.”

“No. That wasn't a true apology.”
Was this some Namgung Clan custom?
Seeing her skeptical expression, he smiled faintly. “Of course, that’s not the only reason I requested this meeting.” He reached inside his robe and pulled out a small pouch, offering it to her.

She opened it, revealing a small jar. Inside the white jar was a dark, ash-like substance.
“What is this?”
He smiled. “Poisonous insects.”

“This is poisonous insects?” She had never seen anything like it. Poisonous insects, also known as venomous gu (蛊), were… insects. Creatures that entered the body, spreading toxins, sometimes even controlling their host. But this… this was just… ash.
“These were found inside the bodies of the warriors the Blood Cult was pursuing. They blocked the blood flow to the heart, causing death.”
She looked at him, her brow furrowed. “I heard the Blood Cult warriors died from exhaustion.”

“Yes. That’s what we reported to the Alliance.”
Her eyes narrowed. “…You lied to the Martial Alliance?”
He leaned against the railing, his expression casual. “Do you trust the Martial Alliance?”

Silence descended between them.
The Namgung heir, contrary to her expectations, was surprisingly straightforward. He had revealed his hand, offering her the truth.
He looked at her, his gaze steady. “A few months ago, a group of our clan members, returning from Martial Alliance headquarters, were attacked by the Blood Cult.”

It was as she suspected.
Seeing her calm, unsurprised reaction, he chuckled softly, then continued, his voice laced with bitterness, “My cousin, Cheong-hae, had asked for a private audience with the Clan Head, saying he had something important to report. He specifically instructed me to keep it quiet, so I didn't inform anyone, not even Father.” His voice dropped, a chilling coldness creeping into his tone. “And yet, they were attacked.”
He looked out at the pond, at the pavilion, his voice flat and emotionless. “I don’t know how far their influence reaches.”

Sohwa nodded unconsciously, her reflection mirroring her movement in the still water of the pond. He chuckled softly, noticing her involuntary reaction.
He turned back to her, his gaze meeting hers. “You said on Mount Emei that the Tang Clan would offer its trust first, asking the Namgung Clan to reciprocate.” He suddenly smiled, his usual smooth, disarming smile. “So, this time, I’m offering you my trust first.”