The courtyard was quiet. Morning mist clung to the gray-tiled roofs, casting long shadows across the cobblestone floor. Birds chirped in the distance, and the faint scent of old herbs drifted on the breeze.
Tang Yun sat cross-legged in the overgrown herb garden, his breathing slow and steady. His tiny courtyard, once abandoned and filled with weeds, had become his private sanctuary. It was here that he studied the remnants of the Tang Clan's ancient poison texts forgotten techniques that once made his clan feared across the Murim world.
Today, however, was not a day for study. Today was a day for retribution.
Three days ago, Tang Yun had watched his older cousin, Tang Fu, bully a servant for no reason knocking over a basket of herbs she had collected and striking her across the face. It was not the first time Tang Fu had acted this way. Known for his strength and high cultivation late Meridian Opening Realm Tang Fu believed himself untouchable, especially compared to the "useless" youngest son of the declining Tang Clan.
Tang Yun was only in the Early Qi Awakening Realm, barely able to circulate his internal qi, let alone fight someone like Tang Fu.
But he didn't need to fight.
Instead, Tang Yun spent those three days carefully preparing the environment. His poison wouldn't be delivered through food or drink. It wouldn't be smeared on a blade or shot through a dart.
No, he would use something even subtler.
Deep in the ancient records, Tang Yun found mention of a rare moss known as Widow's Blanket (Gwabu Ikki). It looked harmless green, soft, and even pleasant-smelling. In fact, it gave off a sweet aroma when touched.
But its danger wasn't in its smell it was in how it reacted with human sweat.
Once touched, Widow's Blanket would release microscopic spores. These spores, upon contacting sweat or moisture on the skin, caused blistering rashes, severe inflammation of the muscles, and, in some cases, temporary paralysis. The reaction was delayed only appearing four to six hours after contact.
To most people, this was a forgotten, useless moss. But Tang Yun saw it as a silent weapon.
Tang Yun didn't need to provoke Tang Fu.
He simply trained in the herb garden every day carefully and obviously making sure word reached his cousin. He acted weaker than he was, stumbling in his breathing technique, pretending to make clumsy mistakes. From a distance, it looked like he was struggling just to control his qi. In truth, he was using a silent form of Qi Threading, a poison technique that allowed him to push his qi through his hands and detect any change in temperature or resistance in nearby plants.
It was through this technique that he cultivated Widow's Blanket. He knew exactly where the moss had grown on the old training dummy in the corner of the courtyard. The wooden figure had been long abandoned and covered in vines. Tang Yun had merely let the moss thrive there.
This was his trap.
Tang Fu arrived on the morning of the third day.
As expected, he didn't come alone. Two outer disciples followed him, laughing as they passed the gate.
"So this is where the trash has been hiding," one of them said mockingly.
Tang Yun didn't respond. He stayed seated, calmly guiding his qi through his dantian.
"Oi! I'm talking to you," Tang Fu barked. "Still pretending to be a cultivator, huh?"
Tang Yun looked up slowly. His expression was calm, not defiant.
"I'm just trying not to waste the family's resources," he replied, voice quiet.
The words stung. Tang Fu's face twisted with annoyance. To someone like him, a soft-spoken response was worse than open disrespect. It felt like pity.
"I should beat that smug look off your face," Tang Fu growled, stepping forward.
His hands were bare. Tang Yun knew he had a habit of attacking with his fists he liked to humiliate people physically. Not kill them, just bruise them badly. It was the Tang Clan way. Disputes between disciples couldn't be lethal… unless done by accident.
Tang Fu stormed toward the wooden dummy, ready to rip it out of the ground and throw it at Tang Yun to make a point.
He grabbed it with both hands.
The moment his fingers touched the moss-covered surface, Tang Yun's trap was set.
The sun had long since passed its peak.
Tang Yun sat in his courtyard, brewing tea. He didn't have many luxuries, but the herbs growing here those untouched by poison were more than enough for a calming brew.
A loud knock echoed at the gate, followed by hurried footsteps.
"Tang Yun! Tang Yun!" It was one of the outer disciples who had mocked him earlier. His face was pale, eyes wide with panic.
"What is it?" Tang Yun asked, setting down his teacup.
"It's… Tang Fu! He's… his arms—his skin is blistering! He can't move his right hand!"
"Oh?" Tang Yun tilted his head slightly. "How strange."
The disciple swallowed nervously. "The elders want to know what happened… They said he was last seen here."
Tang Yun stood slowly. "He came by, yes. Tried to 'teach me a lesson.' But he left on his own two feet."
The disciple hesitated. "You didn't… poison him, did you?"
Tang Yun's eyes narrowed just a little, his calm tone never shifting. "Why would I poison someone stronger than me?"
It was a perfectly innocent answer. And that was the genius of it.
Tang Yun never told anyone about the moss.
He never claimed responsibility. And because Widow's Blanket was so rare, no one in the clan certainly not the younger generation recognized its symptoms.
The physicians would eventually determine it was an environmental reaction, perhaps something Tang Fu touched in the wild.
The case would be closed.
Tang Yun, of course, knew better.
He leaned back in his seat later that night, scribbling something in his journal:
"Poison is not always in the blade. Sometimes, it is in what they cannot see."
That evening, as he sat in meditation, Tang Yun felt a subtle change inside his body.
His qi, which had been sluggish and unstable, began to flow more smoothly. It was still weak but disciplined.
He had been carefully guiding it through his meridians using a method from the old Poison King's scrolls. While other disciples used brute force to expand their dantian, Tang Yun refined his with precision. Like pouring water drop by drop into a delicate bowl, he cultivated slowly—but with clarity.
The Qi Awakening Realm (Gi Gakseong-gyeong) was the first official step in a cultivator's journey. It required sensing the body's internal energy and guiding it through the dantian, the energy core located just below the navel. Most disciples forced it with fire qi or martial breathing. Tang Yun, however, used his poison qi silent, cold, and invasive. It didn't push it crept. And it seeped into every corner of his foundation.
He smiled faintly.
"Even in weakness," he murmured, "there is strength. You just have to know where to look."
Author's Note – Explanation Summary for Readers
What is Widow's Blanket?
A moss with poisonous spores that react with human sweat.
Causes blistering and muscle paralysis.
Found in the ancient poison records of the Tang Clan.
How did Tang Yun use it?
Grew it on an old wooden dummy in his courtyard.
Provoked Tang Fu into touching it without knowing.
Poison symptoms appear after a delay, making it hard to trace.
What realm is Tang Yun in now?
Early Qi Awakening Realm.
He's learning to circulate qi in his body and refine it with poison properties instead of brute force.
Why didn't Tang Fu recognize the trap?
Because the moss is rare and looks harmless.
And Tang Yun never acted aggressively so no one suspected foul play.
[Tags]: Reincarnation, Martial Arts, Poison, Scheming Protagonist, Cultivation, Weak to Strong, Anti-Hero, Cold Protagonist, Clan Wars, Hidden Identity, Revenge