Chapter 113: The Villainess Eats Malatang

Sichuan housed the prefecture of Grand Prince Dexian.

Yes, a genuine Grand Prince, none other than the Emperor’s own younger brother.

Although the Grand Prince had never officially revealed his face to the public, someone of the Tang Clan Lord’s stature—the head of Sichuan’s most powerful local clan—naturally paid formal respects during major holidays.

And now, that very same Grand Prince Dexian had just opened the door to the Clan Lord’s main hall and appeared unannounced.

What on earth has this crazy daughter of mine been doing?! Tang Touzhong, the Tang Clan Lord, thought frantically.

But a daughter was a daughter, and a Grand Prince was a Grand Prince—far too important to ignore or slight.

Just as Tang Touzhong was about to perform a deep, formal bow,

Jayu (the Prince) smiled faintly and raised a single finger to his lips in a clear 'shush' gesture.

At this silent command, the Tang Clan Lord froze instantly, mid-bow, in a bizarre posture resembling someone awkwardly diving headfirst into water.

“Dad? What’s wrong?”

Then, the problematic daughter herself piped up, addressing her father rudely and informally right in front of their esteemed guests.

It was truly Tang Touzhong’s lifelong regret that he hadn’t properly disciplined his beloved, beautiful youngest daughter.

In the end, her current lack of manners was entirely his fault.

“Ahem, ahem,” Tang Touzhong coughed, trying to regain composure. “It is nothing. Didn’t someone once mention that this particular posture is remarkably beneficial for one’s health?”

He then awkwardly settled down, crossing his legs uncomfortably.

The whole situation felt profoundly awkward.

In truth, relations between the Royal Prefecture and the Tang Clan were strained at best.

For generations untold, Sichuan province had been considered the Tang Clan’s exclusive domain.

This was true long before the Imperial Court suddenly established the Royal Prefecture in Chengdu, effectively claiming ownership over most of the city's land.

A complex, behind-the-scenes power struggle over land rights and interests seemed inevitable, but then the Royal Prefecture had surprisingly taken a step back, avoiding open conflict. Since then, the Tang Clan had been steadily, quietly siphoning off benefits and expanding their influence.

Even so, Tang Touzhong’s mind raced furiously.

What possible reason could the Grand Prince have for making a secret visit now?

He’s lived like a virtual hermit for over a decade, completely withdrawn from public life!

Did they somehow discover the hidden saltpeter mine we recently secured?

And why, of all people, is he accompanied by my ill-mannered daughter?

Suddenly, inspiration struck Tang Touzhong like a bolt of lightning.

Ah. Of course! Even a Grand Prince… is still a man!

And a Grand Prince was the absolute highest-premium catch for a potential husband!

Not only did he possess imperial blood, but he was known (by reputation, at least) to be fundamentally upright, capable of empathy, and disdainful of conflict—truly a virtuous gentleman.

Tang Touzhong’s tense posture relaxed considerably.

Perhaps, he thought, a calculating glint in his eyes, my troublesome daughter might finally prove useful after all…

Feigning perfect calm, the Tang Clan Lord proceeded with the formal greetings for each guest.

“So, our esteemed guests have arrived.” His eyes fell on Qing. “Oh! You are the named disciple of the Matriarch? Is the Sword Queen faring well? I see, I see.”

The Matriarch’s named disciple, Ximen Qing.

Possessing considerable martial prowess himself, there was no reason the Tang Clan Lord couldn’t see through Qing’s simple veil. A quick scan, and his brief hope plummeted.

Well, of course. Ridiculous.

The idea of my daughter, who has little going for her besides a pretty face, becoming a Princess? As if.

Still, he consoled himself, glancing again at the Prince, even a Grand Prince is just a man… perhaps he’s tempted by beauty regardless of background?

He turned to Choi Leeong. “Ah, and this esteemed elder… Ah. Yes. Understood.”

Clearly just Ximen Qing’s attendant.

Next, Peng Choryeo. “It is you, Choryeo! How could I possibly forget? That’s right! We met at Elder Moyong’s [^(모용 노야; Moyong Noya - Likely refers to the Murong Clan)] seventieth birthday celebration [^(희수연; Huisuyeon - A specific term for a 70th birthday feast)], wasn’t it? Is that Peng brat, your brother, doing well? What’s that you say? His realm has risen again? Good heavens, does that kid do anything besides eat and swing his sword all day?”

Peng Choryeo.

Honestly, forget the Five Great Families—among the heads of all Nine Great Clans (ever since the Jinju Eon Clan disappeared), there wasn’t a single person who wouldn’t instantly recognize Peng Choryeo.

Her sheer size was unforgettable enough, but combine that with her ironically delicate name, ‘Pretty Crow-tit,’ and the image was permanently etched into one’s memory.

Didn't even her own father, the Peng Clan Lord, constantly joke that he never realized she'd grow quite so large? That if he'd known, he would have named her Taesan [^(Great Mountain/Mount Tai)] or Taebong [^(Great Phoenix)] instead?

And finally, it was the Grand Prince’s turn. Tang Touzhong addressed Jayu with utmost respect.

“And the noble young master gracing us here today is…?”

“Dad, forget about him,” Tang Nanah interrupted dismissively. “He’s just some weakling who tagged along.”

“A weakling who tagged along,” Jayu echoed amiably, bowing slightly. “Also known as Jayu.”

“Hmm.” Tang Touzhong nodded slowly, his expression utterly resigned, as if he had achieved enlightenment and transcended all worldly concerns. “Well… welcome.”

Tang Touzhong, the Lord of the Tang Clan, had two wives and eight children.

From his two wives, he’d sired seven sons in a row. Then, finally, a ray of light had shone upon the family with the birth of his precious, youngest daughter, Tang Nanah.

Seven older brothers. Two mothers utterly weary of their sons’ rough indifference. Add to that every single elder in the clan, plus all the direct and collateral cousins—everyone absolutely doted on Nanah, practically swooning with adoration every time they saw her.

Furthermore, she was objectively stunning, possessing beauty worthy of inclusion among the Five Flowers of the martial world.

Given that background… is any further explanation of her upbringing really necessary?

She was, quite simply, the undisputed number one in the Tang Clan hierarchy (in terms of being spoiled), the family’s greatest ‘Little Villain’.

It was only thanks to the Tang Clan’s traditionally strict discipline and demanding training that she remained merely a little villain, rather than escalating into something far worse.

Still, she wasn’t completely hopeless; when scolded by elders, she would obediently kneel, cry, and performatively reflect on her misdeeds.

And now, this very same Little Villain had summoned all seven of her older brothers for an emergency council just before dinner.

“Do you have any idea how much humiliation I just suffered because of that veiled wench?!” Tang Nanah seethed, breathing heavily. “I cannot stand for this! I absolutely will not stand for it!”

The eldest son, Tang Jinchul, looked deeply troubled.

“Ah-ah [^(Affectionate diminutive)], no matter what, you must understand, that woman possesses seniority equivalent to a great elder of Daoism. It’s only because we belong to one of the Great Clans that this isn't a bigger disaster. Otherwise, her rank would be on par with the Grand Elders of the major sects!”

“What does that matter?!” Nanah shrieked, stamping her foot. “Oppa [^(Korean term for older brother used by a female)], are you serious?! Your Nanah suffered such public humiliation! She forced me to kneel and apologize in front of all those people!”

“But still, to use poison on such an important guest…” Jinchul hesitated.

“Nanah cried and begged in front of everyone! Are you really my brother?! How can you be so cold-hearted?!”

“Elder Brother,” another brother interjected smoothly, likely the third or fourth, “doesn’t Ah-ah have a valid point? Who cares if she’s some Daoist elder? Is there any justification, anywhere, for forcing a direct descendant of the Tang Clan to kneel in the middle of a public marketplace?”

“Besides,” chimed in another brother, “it’s not like we’re planning to use a deadly poison. Just something to give her a severe stomachache. The seventh brother and I can pretend to have stomachaches too, make a big fuss around dawn, maybe wander back and forth groaning a bit. If there’s a ‘problem’ with the food that affects even direct family members, who would dare question it further?”

“Ugh,” groaned the seventh and youngest brother. “Elder Brother, me too?”

“See! As expected of Hyun-Oppa! Jin-Oppa is the only one I can truly rely on!” Nanah declared, shooting a glare at her eldest brother. “Hmph! Exactly whose side are you on, Eldest Brother?”

“No, Ah-ah, I just…” Tang Jinchul started weakly.

“If you’re going to be difficult, Eldest Brother,” the second brother cut in smoothly, taking charge, “then you can simply pretend you didn’t hear any of this. Third Brother, Fourth Brother, and the Youngest will handle the poisoning. If we use a Four Combination Poison, even a Divine Doctor wouldn’t be able to detect it.”

“Ugh, Elder Brother,” the seventh groaned again, “do I really have to be involved in the poisoning part too…?”

“And while we’re at it,” Nanah added viciously, “let’s definitely rip off that stupid veil! I want everyone to see how ugly her face really is!”

“The seventh brother can handle that,” the second brother decided instantly. “Just pretend to trip near her and grab it as you fall.”

“No, wait, what?!” the seventh yelped. “Elder Brother? Why is it always me again…?”

“You should also interfere with her eating!” Nanah continued, piling on instructions for her youngest brother. “Sit next to her, talk loudly, make sure to spit a little when you talk! And maybe laugh really hard and accidentally drop some of your half-chewed food onto her plate as extra garnish!”

“Isn’t the seventh an expert at precisely that sort of behavior?” the second brother remarked dryly. “If the seventh sits next to the young lady, the problem solves itself.”

“That’s a bit…” the seventh brother muttered, looking miserable. “I do have some dignity, you know…”

“Alright,” the second brother concluded decisively. “Then it’s settled. We proceed like that. But remember, everyone: Elder Brother Jinchul is the Young Lord; he didn’t hear a single word of this conversation.”

“Elder Brothers?” the seventh brother pleaded weakly. “What about my opinion…? Really…? Can none of you hear me?”

“Heheng!” Tang Nanah giggled triumphantly. “My Oppas really are the best!”

And so, the Tang Clan’s vile plot deepened. However…

There were several reasons Qing had been wearing the veil. The first, and primary, reason was simply that Gramps (Choi Leeong) was ridiculously, almost pathologically, overprotective about her appearance.

The second reason was that, honestly, the veil itself wasn’t particularly uncomfortable.

Among the Demon Cult’s diverse sources of income, trade goods procured from the strangely pale-skinned Semu people [^(Term historically used in Yuan Dynasty China to refer to peoples from Central and West Asia)] living beyond the western mountain ranges held a significant position.

Choi Leeong had apparently paid a visit to the Sichuan branch of the Demon Cult’s Covert Operations Division and ‘forcefully acquired’ the most precious, highest-quality veil they possessed.

(Rumor had it the veil was originally destined as a tribute for some princess in Kaifeng [^(Historic capital city in Henan province)]; the merchant responsible apparently foamed at the mouth when he heard it had vanished, but naturally, Qing knew nothing about that).

It truly was a remarkable item—completely opaque from the outside, yet offering perfect, unobstructed vision from within.

Even when eating, she could simply fold the lower part up once and adjust it comfortably above the tip of her nose. So, apart from when sleeping, she wore it almost constantly without feeling much discomfort.

And then there was the third reason.

Initially, the light, fluttering fabric had been slightly annoying. But as she got used to it, she found it strangely… comforting.

Hadn’t the Korean people, back in her original world before her transmigration, also often covered the lower halves of their faces with masks, finding a peculiar sense of security and peace of mind in doing so?

Physical discomfort often fades with familiarity, but mental comfort? That could easily settle in and become an indispensable habit before you even realized it.

However, if the reasons for wearing it disappeared, there was no longer any need.

Reason Three:

Qing knew her own seniority. Now that she was inside the house of one of the Great Clans, there was no need to be overly mindful or cautious of others’ opinions.

No need to seek that artificial peace of mind.

Reason Two:

Just because the veil wasn’t uncomfortable didn’t necessarily mean wearing it was comfortable.

And Reason One:

Even Choi Leeong had clearly been annoyed by the Poisonous Speaking Flower, Tang Nanah.

In Choi Leeong’s biased eyes, regardless of titles like ‘Poisonous Speaking Flower’ or ‘Most Beautiful Woman in Sichuan,’ Nanah couldn’t hold a candle to Qing’s beauty, couldn't even reach her toes.

After all, didn’t people proudly carry around and show off even lowly cats, if the cat happened to be particularly pretty?

(Though the territorial cat itself might find the experience rather distressing.)

And so, when Qing had casually removed her veil upon entering the Tang residence, Jayu had simply blinked, momentarily speechless.

“…?”

“What?” Qing had challenged, noticing his stare. “Saw something you shouldn’t have?”

“Friend?” Jayu had managed, still looking slightly dazed.

“What? Is it awkward seeing my bare face all of a sudden?”

Jayu suddenly recalled their earlier conversation—his thoughtless question about whether she felt jealous seeing women prettier than herself. And her dismissive reply at the time, questioning why she would feel such a thing. He had misunderstood her response entirely.

Ah. Of course she wouldn't feel jealous… because the Poisonous Speaking Flower wasn't prettier than her.

“Did you… Did you truly need to hide such beauty?” he finally asked, his voice filled with genuine wonder.

“Ugh.” Qing instantly got goosebumps. “Beauty my ass.”

She started hitting Jayu’s arm repeatedly, annoyed by the compliment.

“Ow! Ow! Stop! Stop that! It hurts! Seriously, that actually hurts!”

Jayu yelped, vigorously rubbing his arm and shrinking away from her.

He could instinctively tell:

Those hits are definitely going to leave some nasty bruises by morning.

“Why don’t you try managing your speech?” Qing grumbled, still slightly creeped out. “You keep slipping back into that overly formal tone. It’s getting less sincere every time.”

“Ahem,” Jayu cleared his throat, looking slightly embarrassed. “It has become something of a habit, I fear. Difficult to control.”

“Forget it,” Qing sighed, deciding to change the subject. “Let’s just go eat that duck already. Ugh, I’m seriously going to starve to death here. What time is it anyway?”

And so, Ximen Qing finally descended upon the Tang Clan’s main banquet hall.

Peng Choryeo, who had apparently been carefully observing Qing’s physique even while veiled, recognized her identity instantly the moment she saw her uncovered face and build.

“Oh! Qing-ah! You took your veil off! What’s this? Why were you hiding such a pretty face all this time?” She then shot a knowing look somewhere past Qing. “That bastard brother of mine… What did he say again? He ‘doesn’t look at faces’? Doesn’t look at faces, my foot! Well, why am I even surprised.”

The first of the Tang brothers to react was the fourth son.

He smoothly slid into the empty seat beside Qing just as she arrived at the table. The youngest, the seventh son, who had presumably been aiming for that spot, looked flustered.

“Uh, Elder Brother? My seat…”

“Haha,” the fourth brother chuckled, throwing an arm around the seventh’s shoulder. “How dare you covet the seat next to your future sister-in-law?” [^(Implying Qing is a potential match for the fourth brother, making her the seventh brother’s future sister-in-law.)]

“Wait, no, why are you suddenly—” the seventh started to protest.

“That’s enough, move asi— Ugh!”

The fourth brother grunted as another hand suddenly smacked the back of his head.

“You should move aside too,” declared the second son, smoothly sliding into the now-contested seat next to Qing. “Even cold water observes hierarchy. How dare you attempt to secure a wife before your elder brother?”

He settled into the seat with a dignified expression, though a smug grin tugged at his lips as he subtly shifted closer to Qing.

Watching this unfold, Tang Nanah smiled, a vicious glint flashing in her eyes.

Ah, so Second Oppa is going to make a move himself! Excellent!

Yes, I admit, I was a little flustered because she’s a tiny bit prettier than expected, but just you wait and see what we have planned for you…

But of course, in a world involving Ximen Qing, when did things ever go according to plan?