Tang Family Sword Peak
It was because there was something he had to do first thing in the morning.
The very first thing he did after waking up was prepare hot tea.
Even though the water was boiling to the point where it was impossible to put one's lips to it, he didn't mind.
By the time she awoke and began her morning training, it would have cooled to just the right temperature.
With the tea and some light snacks neatly arranged on a small tray, he smiled with satisfaction and muttered to himself:
"Perfect again today. Just like me."
For Myung Sa-hyeon, preparing tea and a few snacks and leaving them at Tang Yeo-eun's training grounds had become a daily ritual.
She had never once thanked him for it.
But he understood well enough.
The very fact that she did not reject it meant that she was already opening her heart, even if only slightly.
The reason she could not bring herself to say "thank you" was because acknowledging her gratitude would be the same as admitting that her heart was softening. That was what she feared most.
He believed firmly.
That her frozen heart would one day melt in the warmth of the tea.
And he wasn't worried about when that would happen.
For someone he wished to spend a lifetime with, waiting a few years was hardly difficult.
This morning as well, after leaving tea and snacks at her training ground and returning to the quarters, a male unit member approached him.
"Vice-leader, do you know Lady Do Hee-yeong of the Fifth Unit?"
"Hm? You mean the shy, cute young lady from the Fifth Unit? I know of her, though we've never spoken. Why do you ask?"
The man smirked slyly and handed him a folded note.
"Lady Do Hee-yeong asked me to give this to you. She seemed embarrassed, told me only to pass this along, and then ran off."
"Hm?"
Opening the note with a curious look, Myung Sa-hyeon chuckled.
It was a letter confessing that she had long harbored feelings for him and asking him to meet her by the western woods.
"What does it say? Don't tell me it's a confession?"
"What else could it be? This is troublesome."
The soldier burst into cheers and teased him loudly.
"Ooooh! Vice-leader! Don't tell me you're betraying the unit leader?"
"As if I would. I'll have to break it gently so she doesn't get hurt too much. Poor girl fell for my charm, after all."
Saying so, Myung Sa-hyeon set off.
It wasn't the first time something like this had happened.
Even in the past, there had been women who approached him despite knowing he was devoted to Tang Yeo-eun.
But ever since it became widely known that he was like a sunflower fixed on only one woman, such incidents had died down.
Receiving a confession like this again after such a long time wasn't unpleasant, though he did feel sorry for Lady Do, who would inevitably be rejected.
Meanwhile, Tang Yeo-eun, leader of the Third Unit of the Tang Clan's Thirteenth Generation, washed herself briefly and headed to the training grounds for her morning practice.
As always, she found the tray with modest tea and snacks awaiting her.
Drinking the tea—now comfortably warm—and nibbling at the light snacks that never weighed her down during training, Yeo-eun silently offered him her gratitude.
Thank you for sincerely and consistently showing me your heart.
Thank you for giving me warmth I had never once felt even from my own family.
But then, as if to shatter that moment, the unforgettable voice rang once more in her mind:
"You should never have been born!"
These were the words she had heard most often from her mother as she grew up.
No matter how hard she tried to be a good child, no matter how outstanding her accomplishments in martial arts, her mother never ceased to bombard her with looks and words full of hatred.
And there was a reason for it.
Her mother believed everything was her fault.
That all the misfortune in her own life stemmed from her daughter.
Her mother was the third wife of Tang Jeong-hu, the current head of the Sichuan Tang Clan.
A woman more ambitious than any other.
Even as the third wife, she had aspirations: she would make her son the next clan head.
And she had the background and ability to believe she could do it.
Her family was one of the most prestigious in Sichuan, and she herself was both beautiful and capable.
She was confident that, if she bore a son, she could raise him to be the Tang Clan's successor.
But—
No matter her background, beauty, or ability, she could not change the fact that no child came.
Despite being married to the clan head, despite receiving more favor than the other wives thanks to her beauty, she remained childless.
Physicians said her body had no issues.
And since the other wives bore children, it could not be the clan head's problem either.
That only made her more desperate.
Doctors told her to ease her mind.
But peace of mind never came.
She tried every expensive medicine, sought talismans from fortune tellers, experimented with folk remedies—everything imaginable.
Still, five years passed without a child.
Meanwhile, the other wives' children grew up. Even wives who had married later bore children.
Though the clan head tried to treat her kindly, he eventually grew weary of a wife consumed by obsession and bitterness.
Then, in the sixth year of their marriage, she suddenly conceived.
No one knew why.
Perhaps not the remedies, but the fact that she had finally begun to let go of her obsession.
It didn't matter.
The point was, she was revived by this miracle.
And then came the astonishing news from the physicians:
She was carrying twins.
At that moment, she had only one hope.
That at least one of the children would be male.
If so, she was certain she could make him the next clan head.
Finally, the day came, and her wish was fulfilled—or so she thought.
They were fraternal twins: one boy and one girl.
But the boy was stillborn.
The chance she had grasped with such difficulty vanished before her eyes.
She was crushed, as if the dream had been torn away just one step before realization.
Her despair was deeper than when she had been childless.
And she poured all of that despair onto the newborn girl.
Tang Jeong-hu barely managed to stop her when, in her madness, she nearly hurled the baby aside. He had no choice but to separate mother and daughter.
And it was the right choice.
For she constantly sought to pour her hatred onto her daughter—to the point of trying to kill her.
She turned immediately to trying for another child.
But…
The clan head, now thoroughly disgusted with her, never gave her the chance again.
Her ambition to be the mother of the next clan head was utterly crushed.
And what remained to her was only hatred.
Hatred toward the other wives who had sons, toward those sons themselves, toward the husband who no longer came to her—and above all, toward the daughter she believed was the cause of it all.
Thus, Tang Yeo-eun's childhood was nothing but memories of a mother's curses and hatred.
And the Tang Clan was not a place where a daughter abandoned by her mother could grow up with a healthy mind.
So Yeo-eun strove to be a good and exceptional child.
She instinctively knew that otherwise, she would be ignored, forgotten, cast aside.
She longed for attention.
She longed for love.
She wanted to experience the affection that other children received so naturally just by being children.
But within the Tang Clan, no matter how outstanding she was, that was impossible.
From the outside, it seemed a family bound by blood.
But in truth, it was a ruthless world of survival of the fittest.
That was also why Yeo-eun abandoned poison and hidden weapons, devoting herself instead to the sword.
Throwing knives or concocting poison brought her no relief.
But wielding a sword—that made her heart feel unburdened.
And she realized that no matter how skilled she became with poison or hidden weapons, it would be meaningless.
So when the order came one day for her to go to the frontlines, she wasn't surprised.
She had always expected it.
She was the perfect candidate—bearing the title of direct descendant, yet treated as less than a branch member.
The one easiest to discard without guilt.
She thought it wouldn't matter if she died at the front.
After all, she had no reason to live on.
She didn't even think herself someone worth living.
But once she arrived at the frontlines with that mindset, her life changed—completely, utterly.
Of course, she had always known her face was fairly beautiful.
She resembled her mother, who in the past had been called the greatest beauty in Sichuan.
Naturally, then, her own looks were considered outstanding.
But she had never once been grateful for inheriting that appearance.
On the contrary, every time she looked into a mirror and saw that face, it felt like her mother was cursing her, and it only tormented her.
That's how it had always been.
But when she came to the frontlines, everyone praised and admired her beauty.
It was a reaction she had never once received in the Tang Clan.
The same was true of her swordsmanship.
Before coming to the battlefield, she had already reached the peak of mastery, but aside from some perfunctory compliments from her father, the clan head, no one had ever acknowledged it.
Because in the Sichuan Tang Clan, anything other than hidden weapons and poisons simply wasn't valued.
Even those swordsmen who were recognized were all outsiders hired by the clan.
But here, things were different.
What mattered here wasn't what you had studied, but how deeply you had mastered it—and how effectively you could fight against the demonic beings.
So it was only natural that she, who had reached the pinnacle in her twenties, was respected as one of the finest swordswomen.
All of this felt so unfamiliar to her.
She didn't believe herself to be someone worthy of such treatment.
And so, she was afraid.
Terrified that one day people would see her true self—that she was someone who should never have been born, someone deserving only of hatred.
That fear made her keep her heart closed to everyone.
She only played the role of Tang Family Sword Peak, the cold and unyielding warrior everyone believed her to be.
She resolved to live like that forever.
That's how it had been.
But…
As she drank the warm tea left at the training ground every morning, a different thought began to creep into her heart.
Perhaps… this person doesn't love Tang Family Sword Peak, but Tang Yeo-eun. Perhaps he truly loves that despised girl who should never have been born.
She feared she might just be mistaking the tea's warmth for something more.
But still, just once, she wanted to believe.
Believe that in this world, there could be someone who loved her truly, for who she was.
And so, as Tang Yeo-eun sipped her tea, thinking of Myung Sa-hyeon, that thought crossed her mind.
Maybe… just once… it would be okay to tell him directly. To tell him that I'm grateful. That I've always been grateful.
The idea of putting her feelings into words was terrifying.
But for the man who had watched over her unwaveringly for years, perhaps she could muster the courage.
With that thought, after finishing her training, she returned to her quarters, determined.
Perhaps, once again, it would only remain a resolution.
But this time, she would at least try.
She would tell him.
But as she walked back with that resolve, Tang Yeo-eun froze in shock.
Myung Sa-hyeon was standing before her quarters, his face stiff and grim.
"V-vice-leader?"
She had just resolved to tell him herself, but wasn't this far too soon?
Her lips felt sealed shut, unable to utter a word.
Then, unlike his usual self, Myung Sa-hyeon spoke, his face still tense.
"Leader, there's something I must say. Please come with me."
Startled, she nodded frantically.
"Huh? Y-yes, alright."
Myung Sa-hyeon led Tang Yeo-eun into the woods.
It seemed he was deliberately heading to a secluded place.
Her heart pounded harder and harder.
On second thought, telling him her feelings would indeed be easier with no one else around.
Though his unusual demeanor worried her, it also raised her hopes.
Maybe today… he would…
But as they ventured deeper into the forest, Myung Sa-hyeon suddenly stopped.
Confused, Tang Yeo-eun asked:
"Why? What is it, vice-leader? Why stop here…?!"
But when she saw his face, she could say no more.
It was twisted in torment.
With a horribly pained expression, he forced the words out:
"No… Leader, don't follow me…"
"Huh? Vice-leader, what's wrong? Why?"
His face suddenly returned to blank, emotionless calm, as he said stiffly:
"It's nothing. Please, come with me, Leader."
In that moment, a dreadful thought struck Tang Yeo-eun like a bolt of lightning.
Something so terrible she hadn't even wanted to imagine it.
With a dazed look, she called to him:
"Vice-leader?"
But he only repeated, with that same lifeless tone:
"Come. There's somewhere we must go."
Tears suddenly streamed down Tang Yeo-eun's cheeks.
This was not the Myung Sa-hyeon she knew.
In a daze, she whispered:
"No… this isn't right. This isn't you. Sa-hyeon… please…"
But Myung Sa-hyeon grabbed her arm roughly, speaking mechanically:
"Come. There's somewhere we must go."
She shook her head blankly, devastated.
The Myung Sa-hyeon she knew would never ignore her tears, speaking only of his own business.
Nor would he ever handle her so roughly.
She could no longer deny it.
This was not Myung Sa-hyeon.
He had been possessed.
Realizing the truth, Tang Yeo-eun clutched his arm desperately, crying out:
"Sa-hyeon! Snap out of it! No! You can come back! You can! Please, wake up!"
Once more, his face twisted in agony.
A tortured expression, pleading eyes.
He gasped out:
"Kill me… before I hurt you…"
His strength gave out.
Kill him?
Now, just when she had finally managed to believe in someone?
Now, when she could no longer imagine her life without him?
And he asked her to kill him?
It felt as though her heart was being torn apart.
At last, Tang Yeo-eun broke down in sobs.
"No… no! Don't say that! Don't leave me! Please!"
Then, with a terrible scream, Myung Sa-hyeon drew his sword.
"Uwaaaaaaaaah!!"
Clang!
"Sa-hyeon!"
Though his face was monstrous and terrifying, she could not bring herself to defend against him.
She could not raise her blade against him.
She only wept like a child, crying out his name.
"Sa-hyeon! Sa-hyeon!"
Then, with his sword raised in a reverse grip, Myung Sa-hyeon brought it down with all his might.
Squelch!
"Khuk!!"
Tang Yeo-eun's eyes went blank.
The sword had pierced not her, but Myung Sa-hyeon's own heart.
"Sa-hyeooon!"
She screamed his name as she rushed forward, catching his collapsing body.
"No! No! Nooooo!"
With a sword still lodged in his heart, lying in her arms, Myung Sa-hyeon at last smiled, as he always had.
With a blood-soaked hand, he gently caressed her cheek and whispered:
"I'm… sorry… I… love…"
And then, his hand slipped lifelessly down.
"Noooooo!"
Clutching his body, Tang Yeo-eun wailed in despair.
The members of the Thirteenth Unit, who had rushed over after hearing the cry, could only stand frozen nearby, watching.
None of them could say a word.
The man with the cheerful, open nature who had won the goodwill of so many at the front, the man who had been Tang Yeo-eun's first ray of salvation in her life—Myung Sa-hyeon—had drawn his last breath.
By cruel coincidence, his death came at nearly the same time that Ma Yeo-gyeong's corpse was discovered.