Surviving as a Maid of the Sichuan Tang Clan

It wasn’t easy to adapt to an environment that had flipped overnight.

Well—my mind wasn’t adapting. My body was enjoying the promotion like it had been born for it.

A life where someone else brought me water to wash with, someone else set my meals in front of me, and someone else laid out my bedding for me!

I was rolling around, buried in soft blankets, and it felt like all the bitterness I’d been swallowing up until now was melting away.

But some things hadn’t changed.

“Young lady. Wake up.”

“Ughhh. No.”

“Get up already. He said to wake you early and send you over.”

Songji smacked my back—smack, smack—while I rolled around in bed.

Ow. Songji. Even if you’re used to it now, I’m still your young lady. Is this allowed?

Pouting, I finally sat on the edge of the bed, and Songji brought over a brass basin full of wash water.

“Wash your face first, and change quickly.”

Her voice was bright.

On the first day in the annex, she’d been so awkward she didn’t know what to do, but now it seemed my status felt normal to her.

‘Young lady. D-Did you cough...?’

‘Songji. Please. Be like before.’

‘But how could I possibly...?’

‘Please. Please! I got goosebumps. We’re not that kind of relationship.’

‘...Really? I can do that?’

There had been plenty of twists and turns, but still—thank goodness she’d adjusted fast. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

Gyeonga hovered at my side too, shuffling her feet as she held something out with both hands.

“Y-Young lady... after you wash... you... you have to... wear this...”

“What is it?”

“A martial uniform. He said the moment you open your eyes, we should put you in a martial uniform and send you to his quarters.”

“Huh? The moment I open my eyes? Without even breakfast?”

“Yes. You should go quickly. Your guard is waiting outside too.”

At Songji’s answer, a bad feeling crawled up my spine.

Why would he tell me to come in a martial uniform? Was he planning to grind me down at the training grounds at the crack of dawn?

When I finished getting ready and stepped out, I saw Deokju waiting in perfect posture.

She looked like a new recruit whose discipline had been drilled into her bones.

“Deokju. You can relax a little.”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay. I’m going to Grandfather’s quarters. Want to come with me?”

“You don’t need to tell me where you’re going. I’ll follow wherever you go, young lady.”

“...Uh. Right. Okay, let’s go.”

I mumbled and started walking, stiff with awkwardness.

Sir. This one’s too intense.

*****

The edge of the dim sky was staining red. Cold dawn air filled my lungs.

It was my first time visiting Tang Jung’s quarters this early.

He should be awake by now, right?

After lingering in front of the hall’s main door, I knocked softly.

“Grandfather. May I come in?”

“Come.”

When I opened the door at the easy answer, I saw Tang Jung feeding the carp in the pond.

He flicked his eyes at me and snorted a laugh.

“You could’ve just come in. What wind blew that made you put on manners?”

When you say it like that, it sounds like I usually barged in without any manners at all.

...Did I not make any noise before? No, I did. I definitely did.

While I rolled my eyes, trying to reconstruct my own habits, Tang Jung dumped the last of the feed into the pond and walked over.

“How’s the pond Geunmyeong dug? Looks like it’s always been there, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. It looks exactly like it was originally there.”

“I thought so.” Tang Jung sounded pleased. “That boy’s got decent hands.”

Or maybe it’s because you make him do everything under the sun. You use him like a multi-tool.

Thinking about Tang Geunmyeong—how he handled every order smoothly, without a hitch—I suddenly wondered what his monthly pay was.

A bodyguard, an attendant, a household manager, and even civil engineering.

If someone could do all that, his pay should be astronomical, shouldn’t it?

“You’re thinking something stupid again.”

Clicking his tongue, Tang Jung hoisted me onto his back.

I clung to his shoulder like limp dough.

“There’s something I’m going to show you today.”

“Something you’ll show me?”

“Yes.” He spoke with pride. “The place that’s the root of the main house.”

Where Tang Jung brought me was a small shrine that housed the ancestral tablets of the Tang Clan’s forebears.

The building, with a plaque that read Ancestral Shrine, breathed out a strange scent—a mix of old wood and incense.

The solemn atmosphere felt unfamiliar enough that I looked around, and Tang Jung warned me at once.

“Be still. This is where the ancestors rest.”

With his hands folded in front of him, he walked to the center of the shrine and lit fresh incense.

A thin thread of smoke curled up into the air.

After placing the incense in the burner, Tang Jung lifted a serious gaze to the old portrait hanging at the center.

Inside the faded portrait was a middle-aged man with sharp eyes.

Is that man the Tang Clan’s founder?

They said blood ran thicker than water, and it seemed like the reason Tang Clan people all looked sharp and pointed was because of him.

“Offer Three Full Bows to the ancestral founder of the family.”

“Three Full Bows?”

“It means three deep formal bows.”

Hello, ancestor.

I did exactly as told, bowing three times toward the old portrait, and then Tang Jung pointed to a worn tablet off to the side.

“Pay the same respects to your Grandmaster. He was my master.”

I blinked, startled, and asked back without thinking.

“What? You had a master too, Grandfather?”

“You’re saying the obvious.” Tang Jung sounded almost offended. “Who in this world has no master?”

It’s just... you look like you came out of the womb throwing hidden weapons.

It was hard to picture Tang Jung as anything but complete.

With a distant expression, he ran his fingers over the old tablet.

“He was a man half-mad over poison.” His voice was flat, like he was reciting weather. “I said I wouldn’t take poison, so he beat me, shoved me into a poison jar, and left me in it overnight. I’ll remember that until the day I’m in a coffin.”

...That’s not half-mad. That’s just insane. People die like that.

I pretended I hadn’t heard, bowed, and straightened. Tang Jung smiled faintly and asked:

“Do you know why you’re bowing?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You’re offering the Master-Acceptance Rite.” Tang Jung’s tone turned weighty. “You’re showing the proper respect to take this grandfather as your master.”

Now that he said it, I felt like I’d seen scenes like this in martial arts novels—when a master and disciple bound themselves.

“Lastly, if you bow to this grandfather three times, you’ll become my disciple in name and in truth. Everyone will see you as the heir to this Poison King.”

At his serious voice, I swallowed hard.

Tang Jung had said he was taking me as a disciple, but until now, there hadn’t been many people who truly knew the nature of our relationship.

But if word spread that I’d performed the Master-Acceptance Rite—and if I started receiving Tang Jung’s teachings in earnest—then the resistance would start. It was inevitable.

“Grandfather. I’m not your only disciple, right?”

“All the others are dead.” Tang Jung answered without blinking. “So I’d say you’re the only one, wouldn’t you?”

“...Ah.”

That was... a question I shouldn’t have asked.

I scratched the back of my head awkwardly, and Tang Jung flicked my forehead.

“Do you think I’d take just anyone as my disciple? After that Heaven’s Pivot bastard—meaning the Grand Elder Clan Head—died, I’ve never taken another disciple.”

“What? The Grand Elder Clan Head?”

“Yes.” Tang Jung nodded, eyes drifting. “When he was young, his skill with Feather-Needles wasn’t bad, so I taught him. That was... about seventy years ago.”

So that was why he treated the Clan Head like dirt without hesitation. Before he was a descendant, he’d been the son of a disciple.

The unexpected history was interesting for half a breath—

and then fear hit me in the gut.

A disciple of an absolute monster who’d raised the Clan Head.

It wasn’t just a burden. It was a position that made my skin crawl.

When my face darkened, Tang Jung snorted.

“Whether you want it or not, you can’t turn back. Didn’t I already go to the Elder Council and pin it down that I’d take you as a disciple? Stop being scared and finish your bows.”

“Ugh...”

“What’s ‘ugh’?” Tang Jung laughed like it was ridiculous. “You’ve gotten more petulant.”

Then he jerked his chin, like hurry up.

He was right. We’d gone too far to back out now.

And didn’t they say if you couldn’t avoid it, you should enjoy it?

If this was how it was going to be, then I should grit my teeth, shut my eyes, and suck every benefit I could out of being his disciple.

I took a deep breath, then bent until my forehead touched the floor.

Even though I {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} knew it was a formal procedure, my heart was pounding fast for some reason.

First bow.

Second bow.

Third bow.

When I raised my head, Tang Jung reached out to me with a satisfied expression. I took his hand and stood.

“Child. Do you remember what this grandfather told you?”

“That you wanted me to stand out?”

“Right.” Tang Jung’s eyes gleamed. “And what else?”

“That the more people pay attention to me, the safer I get.”

“Exactly.” He bared his teeth in a confident smile. “So make a racket. Throw yourself around loudly. You’re the Poison King’s only disciple.”

I nodded along, smiling back, and Tang Jung added:

“But a martial artist speaks with action.” His voice hardened. “If you want to be called the Poison King’s disciple, you need the skill to match. I won’t tolerate a disciple I taught getting beaten up out there.”

“Then that means...”

“Let’s go train.”

“...Yes.”

After declaring it, Tang Jung lifted me up like I weighed nothing.

I didn’t resist. I just let my body settle into his hold.

*****

At the same time, Grand Elder Dang-gak of the Tang Clan was in a foul mood.

It hadn’t even been long since he’d been publicly humiliated in the Elder Council and lost sleep over it, and now he had to sit and listen to a common woman whine about her life. It irritated him.

“Tang Hwayeop is already well past twenty, and Tang Juyeop has already had his coming-of-age ceremony. But you still won’t give them a single Vice Captain post? What is it about my children that’s inferior to Tang Yeongho’s that you discriminate against them like this?”

Madam Jo’s shrill voice made fatigue surge through him.

Even greed had its limits. Did she even understand what a Vice Captain post meant, to dare speak of it so lightly?

Dang-gak wanted to twist the woman’s neck for babbling without knowing her place.

But he had to endure it.

Precisely because she didn’t know her place, she was useful.

Wasn’t there a saying about killing with a borrowed knife?

She was a tool that would clean up the surroundings without dirtying his own hands.

If he used a foolish mother’s excessive ambition to cut down the Clan Head’s seed one by one, then his grandson would take the family with ease.

So for now, he had no choice but to be patient.

After smoothing his mind, Dang-gak shaped a kindly smile.

“Ho ho. The Clan Head must have his reasons. Everyone knows Tang Yeongho is lacking, don’t they? He’ll give Tang Hwayeop an opportunity soon enough.”

“Lacking?” Madam Jo ground her teeth. “He’s a disgrace to the family. I don’t understand why my husband treasures that idiot.”

“He’s the first son, so he can’t help being attached.” Dang-gak soothed her with pleasant words. “Soon he’ll admit Tang Hwayeop is better, so don’t be so angry.”

As Dang-gak coaxed her, Madam Jo’s simmering agitation settled.

“Yes. My husband will realize it soon. That Tang Hwayeop is the only true talent fit to inherit the Tang Clan.”

A laugh almost slipped out—as if that would ever happen—but Dang-gak forced his face into calm.

“That isn’t what matters.” Dang-gak’s eyes sharpened. “The illegitimate child who was entered into the register this time... they say she has a Myriad-Poison-Immune Body?”

“That’s right.” Madam Jo’s voice lowered. “And the Poison King said he’ll teach her personally.”

“That makes no sense.” Madam Jo’s lips twisted viciously. “That old man never taught any of the Clan Head’s children. Why would he suddenly step forward now and say he’ll teach a bastard?”

Then she bit down hard, as if chewing the words to pulp.

“That child needs to be dealt with before she becomes a calamity.”

“I agree.” Dang-gak nodded, a greasy smile spreading. “If the Poison King puts her forward as his heir, things will become complicated. Let’s watch for the right opportunity.”