Chapter 185: The Poison Human (6)

“What’s wrong with Hwarin?”

The Clan Head has to go? Did something happen to Hwarin?

The steward saw the concern on my face and seemed to realize his slip, quickly softening his expression before calmly explaining, “Ah… it’s because after checking on Lady Hwarin’s condition, we need to proceed immediately with the Young Lord’s treatment. There’s no major concern for you to worry about, Young Master Yunho.”

So it wasn’t about Hwarin, but the Young Lord.

That made sense, but I couldn’t ignore the way the steward looked the moment he saw me, like he’d slipped up.

“Must I go right away?” the Clan Head asked the steward.

“The Young Lord’s condition is also urgent, so if Lady Hwarin is stable, we’ll proceed with the treatment immediately. It can begin at once, so we would like for you to be there as witness, Clan Head.”

So it was just a false alarm.

Seems like they’re calling in the guardian for a major operation.

I guess I’ll have to put off getting approval for the Rising Tempest of Tang Clan for now.

As I was feeling a little disappointed, the Clan Head didn’t follow the steward out.

Instead, he continued looking at me, “There’s still something you haven’t said to me.”

What, you’re not going to check on your own son?

Maybe he realized it wasn’t truly an emergency.

Looks like he’s still waiting for my answer, to his offer to formally make me his son.

But I already have my answer.

No hesitation.

“My father raised me with love and discipline. Not once until the day he died did I ever feel like an adopted son. I have only one proud father.”

Which was true—I wasn’t adopted.

I firmly rejected the Clan Head’s proposal.

“However…”

Seriously, even after I laid it out so clearly, you’re still not backing down?

Fine, I’ll give you a different path.

“If you wish to atone, don’t do it for me. Do it for my mother. If you can, build a small shrine in her memory. Honor her, not me.”

I understand the guilt.

I even understand the desire to atone.

But I can’t be the object of that atonement.

The one he needs to face is Hyang-ah.

Not some barbarian-born orphan.

“…Would that be alright?”

The Clan Head looked at me, startled by the suggestion.

Of course he’d be surprised.

Ancestral rites were the right and duty of her son—me.

The man who abandoned her had no right to do it just because he wanted to.

However, the very fact that her abandoned son was now giving him permission, that itself was a massive concession.

It was forgiveness.

It was atonement.

“What’s one more ritual table? I’m sure my mother would appreciate it.”

“Then I shall honor her every year.”

The Clan Head nodded with a firm expression, as if making a resolution.

Perfect timing.

Every year, he’d honor Hyang-ah and slowly ease his guilt.

As the abandoned son, I gave the Clan Head that opportunity.

And in doing so, I made room for negotiation.

I stepped back. Now it was his turn to yield something I wanted.

There was only one thing Kang Yunho wanted.

“I want to honor my mother’s will through my writing. I want to continue telling the stories of heroes she once told me.”

The Rising Tempest of Tang Clan might be fictional, but the chivalrous man Hyang-ah longed for was in it.

I’ve made that clear many times, he should understand.

And now I gave it new meaning: Kang Yunho wrote the Rising Tempest of Tang Clan as an offering to his mother.

A different kind of memorial, distinct from the Clan Head’s.

The Clan Head stared at me in silence, then after a long moment of apparent deliberation, he finally spoke, “If that’s your will, then so be it. But others who know about the clan’s secrets might talk.”

“Let them. The villain isn’t from the Tang Clan, but the Demonic Cult. If you vouch for the story, who’ll dare argue?”

All I needed was the Clan Head’s approval.

Once the “White Tiger of the Tang Clan” speaks, everyone else would fall in line.

The Clan Head nodded as if he understood, then asked something unexpected, “…So does the story end with Hyang-ah?”

Hey! You’re asking a harem writer if it ends in monogamy?!

I held back my retort and answered with a calm expression, “I told you. Du Eung-hyang is Du Eung-hyang. She’s not my mother and really, why must one choose just one?”

“What do you mean?”

I smiled at the Clan Head, who now wore a look of disbelief.

Twenty years ago, Tang Baekho lost the woman he loved most with one decision and he would never know what became of his own child.

That regret lasted a lifetime.

But I, Kang Yunho, bastard son of Tang Baekho, would write a different path.

Tang Jeong of the Rising Tempest of Tang Clan was not Tang Baekho and writer Kang Yunho would not let Tang Jeong walk the wrong path.

What kind of choice would the bastard Kang Yunho make?

“I want a happy ending for everyone. The protagonist, his fiancée, the courtesan, every woman he loved. If he’s not the Young Lord of a clan, but a true hero—who’s going to criticize him for having multiple wives?”

Tang Jeong would make a different choice.

One that brought smiles to everyone.

That was why the Rising Tempest of Tang Clan was fiction, not a memoir and this was the best ending that bastard Kang Yunho could give.

“…Yes, Tang Jeong isn’t me. He’s better than I ever was. Do as you will.”

The Clan Head smiled with a look of acceptance.

“Good. Hwarin is awake and the Young Lord will recover so let’s end our meeting here. I’ll be leaving soon as well.”

Perfect.

I got everything I came for.

Time to say goodbye.

Time to part ways with a silent “It’s been unpleasant, let’s never meet again.”

“You cut out the Tang Clan’s rot, perfected the Poison Human, and played the biggest role in saving your brother and now you say you’re leaving? Don’t.”

The Clan Head looked shaken and tried to stop me.

Did you think I’d stay?

I’ve already planned this too.

“My presence in the Tang Clan is a mistake. Just a few words with me and your heart already wavered, how could I possibly stay? My being here would only cause the Young Lord to feel more and more uncertain.”

“I won’t let myself waver.”

Oh, Clan Head.

You think I won’t leave if you’re firm?

I’ll shake you right now.

“What if I told you I wanted the Young Lord’s position?”

“You… do?”

The Clan Head faltered.

The steward beside him looked shocked as well.

“You see? I don’t even want it, but look at how you’re already shaken.”

I smiled faintly to show it was just a joke.

“Anything but the Young Lord’s position, and I’ll give it to you.”

“That won’t do. That very sentiment is what could lead us all into trouble.”

A parent’s favoritism, even unspoken, is poison to succession, every culture and history knows that.

People in this world die over succession disputes.

Once is enough.

“You make me feel so small…” the Clan Head muttered in anguish.

No need to feel bad.

I’m even in a good mood.

So here, I’ll leave you with a warm line.

“When a son grows up, the father naturally seems smaller.”

“…What did you say?”

I’d just casually called him “father”, the Clan Head’s face lit up with joy.

Ignoring that expression, I walked toward the door and spoke again, “Hwarin is awake, the clan’s rot has been removed, the Young Lord will recover, but it wasn’t all thanks to me. Still, I feel as though I’ve become the kind of hero my mother once spoke of. It feels good. That’s why I must go.”

“You’ve played a truly great role.”

Perhaps realizing he couldn’t stop me, the Clan Head offered a final word of praise.

“That’s good enough. Heroes often leave without a word. That you’re saying goodbye already makes it better.”

I smiled brightly, as if completely content.

“…So this is goodbye?”

The Clan Head’s voice was full of lingering emotion.

Midlife crisis?

Why is our Clan Head so sentimental?

Still, I shouldn’t be too cold, let’s give him something poetic.

Looking out the window, I murmured in a voice he could hear, “A discarded seed has grown and now stands on its own. But… when I feel like I’m all alone in this world, I’ll look westward from Yichang in Hubei. That’s enough for us, isn’t it?”

That was the best a bastard not yet ready to accept his father could offer.

“…Then I too will sometimes look east.”

Tang Baekho looked surprised for a moment, then smiled, satisfied.

“Thank you, Young Master Yunho.”

The steward followed me out to see me off and offered his thanks.

“Just Kang Yunho is fine.”

I already told you, I have no intention of becoming the Tang Clan’s young master.

The steward gave a small smile at my response, then glanced toward the Clan Head’s direction and continued, “The Clan Head is originally a very strong man. He only appeared weak because he truly sees himself as a sinner and couldn’t even bring himself to speak in front of you. If it weren’t for the issue of succession, he would have cleared everything up on your first meeting.”

“I’ve heard stories too.”

Even Yi Seong-gye, the mightiest general in Korean history and founder of a dynasty, became a weak father when it came to succession.¹

Tang Baekho’s only moment of weakness was over love.

Ever since the Clan Head returned, I heard he purged all the rot in the Tang Clan.

Even the Elder Council was trembling, too afraid to oppose his will.

“The Clan Head has been tormented his entire life by the wound of that youthful love. The forgiveness you gave him today will become a great strength for him as he leads the clan forward.”

The steward bowed to me at a 90-degree angle.

That’s… a bit much.

“My mother has passed, and I’ve grown. It’s not good for one person alone to remain stuck in the past.”

And as the illegitimate-son character, I couldn’t look flustered by an old steward’s bow.

I gave a dry response.

“Thank you. The Tang Clan will never forget Young Master Kang.”

No, please do forget me.

“Why can’t I see Hwarin?”

Three days had passed without seeing her.

I finally confronted the guard guarding her residence.

“Ah, she still needs more rest.”

“Then at least let me visit. If Hwarin is to recover, she needs to see my face.”

“She expended too much Qi forming the core. She still needs time to recover.”

No matter what I said, the guard repeated himself like an ironclad rejection text: just one-letter answers, emotionless and cold.

“Hall Master?”

Just as I was about to argue further, the Hall Master suddenly emerged from inside.

He looked surprised to see me and immediately tried to rush past.

“Hall Masterrrrrr! Why are you trying to run away?!”

Where do you think you’re going?

You treated someone—you should stand proud.

Why are you acting like some shadowy thief?

“There’s nothing to tell you! Nothing I can say!”

Doctor D!

If you won’t say anything, who am I supposed to ask?!

If the one who carries the will of D won’t speak, I’ll have to try a different approach.

“Fine, then don’t say anything. Just let me see Hwarin’s face. Please.”

I blocked his path and pleaded earnestly.

The Hall Master stared at me for a moment, then let out a sigh and gave me a look of pity.

Finally, he nodded, “Wait a little. I’ll figure something out.”

This is why you can’t trust verbal agreements.

Days passed with no word.

Next time the Hall Master promised anything, I’d make him bring an official seal.

I didn’t know why, but something just felt off.

I couldn’t shake this unease.

His sorrowful face kept coming to mind.

Even before Hwarin took the core, the Hall Master’s attitude was strange.

Is something going on?

Are they deliberately keeping me away?

In the end, I neither got an answer nor any news of Hwarin.

Exhausted from martial arts training, I finally collapsed into bed.

“Wake up. It’s morning.”

Swish.

The sound of blackout curtains being pulled back was followed by a voice.

“Ugh…”

Sunlight streamed into my eyes.

Who dares wake the child of darkness?

“Yunho, it’s morning.”

“Just five more minutes…”

Just five more.

With the new year, the subway schedule changed.

If I squeeze, I can sleep five more minutes.

“Yun. Ho. Our dear writer.”

Who is this?

Why is the tone of voice sweet?

It’s the kind of gentle tone a brocon little sister would use in the first volume of a romcom.

This genre has nothing to do with me, so it must still be a dream.

My mind is foggy.

Whatever it is, I must hold on.

My sleep time must be protected.

“Hey! Yunho! It’s already midday! Wake up already!”

In the end, the voice yanked the blanket off me.

“What the—?!”

“This is the only way to get you up!”

“Hwarin?”

That voice… it was Hwarin, the one I’d been waiting so desperately to hear from.

“No time. Get up now.”

“Are you really Hwarin?”

What is this… a dream?

But her actions are way too vivid for that.

The cold breeze from the window she opened helped clear my head.

“Yunho. Today, let’s go out together.”

Caught between reality and dreams, dawn and morning.

Hwarin smiled at me, a smile so fragile it felt like it might vanish with the rising sun, like dew in the early light.