"Did you hear? The sect leader is visiting the outer quarters today."
"Which woman this time? Don't tell me another one got pregnant."
"Keep your voice down! Do you want to lose your tongue for gossiping about the sect leader?"
The two maids hurried through the stone corridors of the Tang Clan compound. Morning light filtered through paper windows and cast long shadows across the polished floors.
"I'm just saying," the younger maid whispered while glancing around nervously. "The main wives already can't stand each other, and now he keeps visiting the outer quarters. How many children does one man need?"
"Eleven that we know of," the older maid replied with a tired sigh. "Seven sons and three daughters and each one scheming against the others for favor. The sect leader seems determined to breed an army instead of a family."
They turned a corner and the sounds of their chatter faded into the distance.
In a small room at the far end of the outer quarters a woman lay on a bed soaked in blood. Her breathing came in shallow gasps and her face was pale as snow. A midwife worked frantically while servants rushed in and out with water and clean cloth.
"Push!" the midwife commanded. "Just a little more!"
The woman screamed and the sound tore through the quiet morning. Then suddenly the cry of a newborn filled the room.
The baby wailed with tiny fists clenched and face red from the effort. The midwife wrapped the child in clean cloth and her hands moved with efficiency.
"It's a boy," she announced but her voice carried no joy. She glanced at the mother and her expression darkened.
The woman on the bed smiled weakly, she tried to reach for her child but her hand fell back. Her eyes fluttered closed and her chest stopped moving.
"Get the physician!" someone shouted but it was too late. The servants stood frozen and unsure of what to do next.
That was when he arrived.
The door slid open and a man stepped into the room. He wore robes of deep green with gold embroidery that marked him as someone of great importance. His face was handsome but cold and his eyes held no warmth as they surveyed the scene.
Tang Yunho stood at the threshold and he was the eleventh sect leader of the Tang Clan. He looked at the dead woman on the bed with the same expression one might give a broken vase.
"Remove the body," he said simply. "Prepare a funeral befitting an outer concubine and nothing more."
The servants bowed quickly and they scrambled to obey.
Tang Yunho approached the midwife and he looked down at the crying infant in her arms. For a moment something flickered in his eyes but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.
Inside the bundle of cloth a consciousness stirred.
The baby's cries were not just the wails of a newborn but something else entirely. Behind those tiny eyes burned a rage that had transcended death itself.
I'm alive, the thought came unbidden and clear. But how?
The Poison Dragon's consciousness swam through confusion and memories. The last thing it remembered was dying in that chamber with ten swords buried in its body. It remembered the betrayal and the curse and the vow of annihilation.
And now it was here in this weak fragile body that could barely move.
Where am I? The infant's eyes focused on the man standing above and recognition hit like a physical blow. That face...
It was him and it was Tang Myeongchul or someone who looked exactly like him. The same cold eyes and the same features and the same aura of controlled power.
Rage exploded through the infant's consciousness and it was rage so intense that the body began to cry harder. The baby's face turned red and tiny fists flailed uselessly in the air.
I'll kill you! I'll tear you apart with my own hands!
But the hands were tiny and weak. The body was helpless and the only sound that came out was the cry of a baby.
Tang Yunho frowned at the wailing child and said "This one has strong lungs at least." He turned to an older maid who stood nearby. "You will care for this child and report his progress to me monthly."
"Yes, sect leader," the maid bowed deeply.
"His name will be Tang Mujin," Yunho continued and his tone was matter of fact. "Raise him properly but do not coddle him. He is a child of the Tang Clan and he will learn our ways whether he wants to or not."
With that Tang Yunho turned and left the room. He did not look back at the child or the dead woman.
The maid named Su-hee gathered the infant into her arms and she looked down at the crying baby with pity. "Poor thing," she whispered. "Born into this clan without a mother to protect you and with a father who barely acknowledges you exist."
I don't need protection, the consciousness inside raged. I am the Poison Dragon! I am...
But exhaustion overtook the infant body and Tang Mujin fell into a deep sleep.
Days turned into weeks and weeks into a month.
Tang Mujin lay in his crib and listened. That was all he could do in this weak body so he listened to everything and absorbed every piece of information like a sponge.
The maids talked constantly as they worked and they were the best source of knowledge about this new world he found himself in.
"Can you believe it's already been a thousand years since the Great Purge?" Su-hee said one morning while changing Mujin's clothes.
"A thousand years of peace," another maid replied with a dreamy sigh. "All thanks to the sacrifice of the righteous masters who defeated the Poison Dragon."
Mujin's tiny fists clenched but he forced himself to remain still.
A thousand years? I've been dead for a thousand years?
"The Tang Clan has prospered so much since then," Su-hee continued. "We're one of the five great orthodox clans now and our poison arts are unmatched in all the murim."
"The sect leader is amazing too," the younger maid added. "Tang Yunho is already considered one of the strongest martial masters of this generation and he's not even forty yet."
"That's the eleventh sect leader for you," Su-hee said with pride. "Though I do wish he would stop having so many children. Poor Tang Mujin here is the twelfth child and probably not the last."
Twelfth child? Mujin's mind raced. And the eleventh sect leader... so it's not Tang Myeongchul but his descendant.
"How many brothers and sisters does little Mujin have?" the younger maid asked.
"Seven brothers and three sisters from what I've counted," Su-hee replied while wiping Mujin's face with a warm cloth. "All of them legitimate except for our little one here. His mother was just an outer concubine and not even a particularly favored one."
"That's going to be hard for him when he grows up," the younger maid said with sympathy. "The legitimate children all have powerful mothers backing them and they control different factions within the clan. An illegitimate child with no mother... he'll be lucky if they don't just use him as a stepping stone."
"Don't say such things!" Su-hee scolded but her voice carried worry. "He's just a baby."
A baby, Mujin thought bitterly. I'm a baby in the body of a human and not just any human but a member of the Tang Clan. The very clan founded by the one who betrayed me.
Over the following weeks Mujin continued to listen and learn. The maids talked about everything from clan politics to martial arts training and from the state of the murim to gossip about the sect leader's many wives.
He learned that the Tang Clan now controlled the western region of the orthodox murim and their poison arts were feared and respected throughout the land. He learned that the ten great families had become five great clans and that the orthodox murim was stronger than ever.
He learned that his so-called father Tang Yunho had multiple wives and each one represented an alliance with another powerful family. His legitimate children were all being groomed for positions of power within the clan.
And he learned that he, Tang Mujin, was nobody. An illegitimate child born to a dead concubine with no backing and no future. The kind of child who would be forgotten or disposed of without a second thought.
The maids meant well when they cared for him but he could hear the pity in their voices. They already assumed he would amount to nothing.
Fools, Mujin thought as he lay in his crib one night. They have no idea what I really am.
The moon shone through the window and cast silver light across the room. Su-hee slept in the corner and her breathing was soft and steady.
Mujin stared at his tiny hands and flexed his fingers. The body was weak but it would grow and when it did he would reclaim his power. He would remember everything about poison and cultivation and the secrets of the divine beasts.
But the question remained and it haunted him every moment.
Why? Why did I reincarnate here of all places?
It couldn't be coinciden. His curse had been meant to destroy the murim and his vow had promised annihilation.
Was this part of that vow? Had fate itself placed him here in the heart of his enemy's legacy?
Mujin's infant lips curled into what might have been a smile if babies could smile with such cold intent.
If that's the case... then this is perfect.
He was born into the Tang Clan as the despised illegitimate child of the sect leader. He had no allies and no power and no one would ever suspect what he truly was.
From this position he could watch and learn and grow strong. He could understand the Tang Clan from the inside and discover all their secrets and all their weaknesses.
And when the time came he would tear it all down.
The Tang Clan that was built on his betrayal would fall by his hand and the orthodox murim that celebrated his death would burn. Every sect and every clan and every master who called themselves righteous would pay for what was done to him.
They wanted peace, Mujin thought as sleep began to claim him. They killed me for peace and for power.
I'll show them what their peace has bought them. I'll show them what rises from betrayal.
The Poison Dragon has returned and this time I'll destroy everything.