WBDS CH 05

Chapter 5

The door opened slowly, and an elderly woman with white hair stepped inside.

Her mouth was set in a stubborn line, her sharp eyes blazing.

Though her age showed, she stood straight-backed, still brimming with strength.

“So,” she said curtly, her tone biting,
“At least you still recognize your own mother.”

“Staying in a place like this only sharpens the senses,” the man replied, closing his eyes briefly.

He felt the flickering of the candlelight, the breeze slipping through the window, the incense smoke curling thick in the room.

He had no more desire for achievement, no hope for the future.

Strangely, his cultivation had advanced—but that was all.

Not that I’ll live much longer anyway.

Shaking off lingering regrets, he opened his eyes again, still gazing at the jade in his hand.

“I am only surprised that the Poison King herself would bother visiting such a shabby place.”

The old woman—Tang Iseo, the Poison King—burst out furiously,

“Of course I came! My only son is rotting away in this wretched place!”

The man gave no reply.

His hands simply continued carving patterns into the skirt of a jade figurine.

The Poison King squeezed her eyes shut.

She had promised herself not to lose her temper this time.

The most important thing was getting her son out of this cursed retreat.

All of it was because of that damned hereditary disease.

Damn it.

The “Poisoned Body” disease.

Throughout the Tang Clan’s long history, it had appeared in rare, unlucky bloodlines.

When it struck, people around the victim weakened.

Pets died, flowers withered—it always began with the surroundings.

Once noticed, there was nothing to be done.

No antidote worked. No cure existed.

The only way to slow it was to stop practicing poison techniques.

But by then, the body was already filled with poison.

Stopping only bought a little time.

In the end, the victim would melt away into a pool of bloody water.

My son… why did it have to be my U-hyeon?

At least they had discovered it early.

But the moment Tang U-hyeon learned the truth, he locked himself away here—turning this side residence into his own tomb.

His wife, unwilling to die with him, had left.
Harsh as it was, it was also wise.

Everyone knew—the family of the afflicted were the first to die.

And so the beautiful granddaughter had to be raised without parents, cared for only by a nanny.

Worse still, U-hyeon had sent his daughter off to the branch family compound, Tangkata.

Even when his mother raged and shouted, he refused to change his mind.

Every time she thought of him, Tang Iseo’s heart burned.

It was clear he was putting his affairs in order, preparing for death.

And he would not even see his own mother.

So stubborn—just like me.

She forced down her anger with a deep breath, searching for another subject.

Something else caught her eye.

“…Impressive,” she muttered.

Her voice still held irritation, but it softened somewhat.

“To think you’ve only just begun jade carving, yet your skill is already this refined.”

“I’ve heard of monks engraving entire sutras on grains of rice,” U-hyeon said calmly, still moving the needle tool.

“This is nothing more than a pale imitation.”

Yes. It was only imitation.

A pastime he had chosen to clear his mind before death.

Because his talent was real, the results were convincing.

But every piece he made carried the imprint of his longing.

***

“When will you return to the main estate?”

“I won’t.”

The answer came instantly, as though it required no thought at all.

Tang Iseo’s eyes widened.

“What about your daughter? Will you leave that bright young child stuck forever in Tangkata?”

A bitter smile touched his lips.
“She is safer there.”

His mother stared at the figurine in his hand.

No matter how she looked at it, it was the face of his departed wife he was carving.

“…You still think she’ll come back?”

The clan matriarch’s face twisted, close to tears.

For the first time, his hand stilled.

“She left you. She won’t return.”

“…”

“You must accept it.”

Crack!

The feather-needle in his grip snapped in half.

“Un Mae will return.”

Tang Iseo’s breath caught.

That was a Tang Clan feather-needle—a weapon forged with their unique methods, harder than most famous swords.

Even if it wasn’t made from cold-iron, it was unthinkable to break one with bare hands.

Yet he had done it effortlessly.

She shut her eyes tight.

How cruel the heavens are…

To gift her a son like a precious jewel—only to take him away.

Even hidden in this dark place, U-hyeon’s brilliance still shone.

But watching him sit here, waiting only for death, made her heart ache unbearably.

“She’ll return?”

“When she left, she left me a letter,” U-hyeon said.

“She asked me to wait. So I wait. That’s all.”

“That was years ago!”

“She told me to wait. So I will.”

Tang Iseo’s voice rose, but she bit her lip, forcing herself to stop.

She hadn’t come to fight her son.

“…Isn’t there some way?” she tried again.

“I am the Poison King. I lead the great Sichuan Tang Clan, one of the Five Great Houses. There must be something, somewhere. We just haven’t found it yet.”

Her words were stubborn, but her tone had lost its force.

U-hyeon slowly opened his eyes again.

“My uncle… he also had this disease. He tried everything—he even betrayed the righteous sects and turned to the Demonic Sect, just to survive.”

“And in the end, he died anyway.”

Tang Iseo’s face twisted bitterly.

Her brother, Tang Irak, had always been the disgrace of the Tang Clan—and the sorest wound in her pride.

“What clever plan could I possibly have?”

Tang U-hyeon set down his broken feather-needle and rubbed his tired eyes.

“And… I wasn’t carving my wife.”

At his words, Tang Iseo blinked, then glanced around at the countless jade figurines.

“You—you don’t mean…”

Her eyes finally caught a tiny carving she had overlooked before.

A baby. A little child wrapped in swaddling clothes.

That baby grew into a young girl.
Then into a teenage maiden.

And at last, into a full-grown woman—bearing a striking resemblance to his late wife.

But her smile… that pure, innocent smile… was something Un Mae had never worn.

The woman aged further in the carvings.
From maiden, to mother, to a gentle old grandmother.

Every version of her smiling brightly.

Tang Iseo’s vision swam, her heart tightening painfully.

“…Leave.”

Without a touch, the doors swung wide open.

A shiver ran down the Poison King’s spine.

Such divine skill—and yet her son sat unmoving, his back turned stubbornly toward her.

He had already taken up a new feather-needle, carefully finishing the lips of the figure he had not yet completed.

Like sunlight turned away from the world, his brilliance was hidden—but it still shone.

On the jade woman’s face bloomed a pure, childlike smile, glittering in the light.

Overcome, Tang Iseo stumbled out of the room as if fleeing.

Cre-eak. Slam!

The door shut behind her.

She staggered forward, weak in the knees.

All her life, as a martial master, she had never once needed a cane.

But now, her body felt drained of all strength.

She leaned against the nearest pine tree.

This should be far enough… He won’t hear me from here.

The moment she felt safely out of earshot, the sobs she had crushed down spilled free.

She had always thought only of her son dying before her.

But now she understood—he had been thinking only of the daughter he would never live to see grow up.

“This damned child… this damned, pitiful child…”

Tears streamed down the wrinkled face of the woman who once ruled Sichuan with iron authority.

The jade figurines her son carved… were the future of his daughter.

The life he longed for her to live—one he would never witness.

***

“Miss!”

The nanny gasped, seizing So-ye’s face and turning it side to side.

“Why are your eyes so swollen?”

She fussed with exaggerated alarm, saying the girl looked like a dumpling left too long in a steamer.

“I… I don’t know.”

So-ye sniffled.
Her sleepless night had left her face puffed.

Well, it wasn’t a total waste. I found something useful while searching the room.

From sunset until dawn, she had drawn up plans and scrapped them one by one.

At last, she had managed to put together a fresh little scheme.

It’s a bit clumsy since I don’t have much to work with, but… it’ll do.

“My face itches, Nanny.”

So-ye whined lightly, and Sa Gong-hee frowned.

“That never used to happen before…”

The muttered words carried a strange weight, though perhaps it was only her imagination.

“I’ll bring a cloth soaked in warm water. Wait just a moment.”

The woman returned quickly, already prepared.

She pressed the damp cloth gently to So-ye’s swollen eyes.

The warmth seeped in, soothing her skin.

“There now, much better. My pretty young miss.”

She pulled back, smiling warmly with pride.

“You really are beautiful.”

“Beautiful?”

So-ye repeated the word.

But her voice came out colder than she intended.