NOVEL Surviving as a Maid of the Sichuan Tang Clan Chapter 22
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Moyong Gi looked like he couldn’t make sense of what was happening. He blinked, glancing back and forth between Tang Jung and Moyong Soye like a broken puppet.

Another adult stepped in to stop Moyong Soye, speaking in place of the speechless Moyong Gi.

“Yeye. That gentleman is the Grand Elder of the Tang Clan.”

“I see. Then when can I get married to him?”

“Even though he’s the Grand Elder?”

“Is there a law that says the Grand Elder can’t get married?”

“Well, of course there’s no such law. But still...”

“Then it’s fine.”

At her calm, matter-of-fact words, the man stole a helpless side glance at Moyong Gi.

“Young Clan Head.”

“......”

“Young Clan Head. Get a hold of yourself.”

He poked the dazed Moyong Gi in the side. Only then did Moyong Gi snap out of it and start sweating buckets.

The elders of the Moyong Clan hurriedly led the child away and tried to explain why she could not marry Tang Jung, but Moyong Soye wouldn’t accept it.

“Didn’t you say yesterday that forming a marriage alliance with the Tang Clan would help our family?”

“Y-yes. That’s what I said. It’s true, but how about looking for someone else? The Poison King Grand Elder is... older...”

“He’s not going to live for a thousand years anyway, so what does age matter? If I’m going to get married anyway, shouldn’t I be allowed to choose my own partner?”

Wow. Little queen of logic over here.

Moyong Gi’s mouth opened and closed silently. He looked like he didn’t even have the strength left to argue.

With his soul drained from his face, he scanned the people around them, then turned a desperate gaze on Tang Jung, silently begging him to do something.

“Good grief, you two...”

With a deep sigh, Tang Jung addressed Moyong Soye.

“Lady Moyong. I recommend you choose your husband somewhere over there rather than with me.”

He pointed toward the line of Tang Clan youths—his great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren—sitting in a row. But Moyong Soye shook her head, clearly displeased.

“I don’t like them. They’re old. They look like uncles.”

Uncles are better. The one you picked is a grandfather, kid.

Every time Moyong Soye opened her mouth, everyone except the Moyongs looked more and more entertained. Honestly, I found the situation funny too.

An eight-year-old little lady, bewitched by the boyish face of a grandfather well over one hundred fifty, blurting out a proposal.

Does she have any idea she’s currently writing the blackest of black marks in her future history, the kind she’ll be teased about for life? Once she’s a bit older, I bet she’ll start kicking her blanket every time she sees the character “Tang.”

Well, I could understand how she felt.

Born the daughter of a martial clan, she’d only ever seen big, dark, hulking martial artists—and then she ran into a refined young master who looked like flower petals might fall out of his sleeves. Of course her eyes went spinning.

And with him dressed up in formal robes for the banquet, he probably looked like a prince on a white horse to her.

While everyone watched the standoff between the two with bated breath, a booming laugh suddenly rang out from the Peng Clan’s side.

“Kh-kh-kh, bwa-ha-ha-ha!”

An old man with a mane of thick hair and beard like a lion’s was laughing at Tang Jung. Every time he laughed, his grizzled beard trembled.

Rubbing his forehead, Tang Jung shot the old man a glare.

“Don’t laugh.”

“Ahaha, Brother. Are you really being chosen by an eight-year-old child right now? I’ve seen a lot in my life, but this is a first. Wahahaha!”

“I said don’t laugh.”

Tang Jung scowled, clearly annoyed. The old man didn’t care in the slightest and clutched his belly, laughing even harder.

“Kkh-kh, well, it’s about time you got married late in life... Ah, Brother! What kind of manners is it to fling a giant needle at a guest just like that?”

Grumbling, he lifted his hand. In his hand, big as a pot lid, he held a long needle the length of a hand span.

Watching Tang Jung, Moyong Soye tilted her head. It must have seemed strange that a white-bearded old man was calling a boy barely taller than his granddaughter “Brother.”

“Why is Grandpa Peng calling that older brother ‘Brother’?”

At his daughter’s question, Moyong Gi’s expression brightened. This was his chance to explain the age gap between her and Tang Jung in a way she’d understand.

“Because the Tang Clan’s Grand Elder is older ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ than the Peng Clan’s Grand Elder Clan Head.”

“Why?”

“Yeye, have you heard that when a top master reaches enlightenment, they attain a realm called ‘turning back one’s age’? The Grand Elder is a master who has reached that realm. His body became younger.”

“I see.”

“So how about rethinking this? The Grand Elder is older than your own grandfather.”

“That’s right, Yeye. Elder Tang is an elder to this old man, too. Think it over again.”

An old man who looked like her grandfather chimed in. Judging by his splendid hair ornament, he was probably the Moyong Clan Head.

Even with the adults’ persuasion, Moyong Soye was unfazed.

“I don’t care. You said his body’s young now.”

No, little miss, that is not the issue here.

No matter how I looked at it, the real problem was Tang Jung’s appearance. He threw everyone around him slightly off-kilter just by existing.

While the adults tried to reason with Moyong Soye, Tang Jung, who had plopped himself down next to the Peng Clan’s Grand Elder Clan Head, was trading silly jokes.

“Peng Rak, what have you been doing all this time? I hadn’t heard anything, so I figured you’d already gone into the ground.”

“Me? I’ve been busy making a coffin. I’m a bit big, you see. There wasn’t a single coffin around that would fit this body. So what could I do? I had to go cut down the trees myself to build one.”

...Is that supposed to be a joke? The fact that only the two of them were laughing made it sound like one.

“Is that so? What do you like? I’ll set out your memorial table in advance, so eat your fill and go.”

“Bwahaha! Your jokes have improved, Brother. Good, good. Since I’ve come all the way to Sichuan, I should at least taste some Sichuan white liquor.”

Thumping his chest heartily, Peng Rak grabbed the wine bottle. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he poured a river of liquor into Tang Jung’s cup.

Thanks to their biting jokes, the people of the Peng Clan could neither laugh nor cry and just clenched their teeth.

Spare a thought for the descendants listening, will you.

While Tang Jung clinked cups with Peng Rak and snickered, Moyong Soye looked thoroughly sulky.

“I hate you, Father.”

“Yeye, your father didn’t mean it like that...”

“I don’t care. I still hate you!”

She stomped her feet, then flopped forward on the table. She was clearly upset that none of the adults were taking her side.

Apparently, raising children was a war wherever you went.

Clicking my tongue silently, I watched the Moyong Clan Head soothe his granddaughter and then return to the platform.

On the platform, the Clan Heads of each great clan sat in solemn rows.

From the left sat Namgung Sang and the Moyong Clan Head, Tang Muheok, and two men I didn’t know. The one fluttering an iron fan was probably the Zhuge Clan Head.

Then that burly man must be the Peng Clan Head. If that forearm hit you, you’d go flying like you’d been hit by a truck.

I stuck out my tongue slightly at the sight of the man’s extraordinary muscles. The Peng Clan really did have different bones and sinews from other people.

“Ahem.”

Just then, Tang Muheok drew everyone’s attention with a pointed cough and rose from his seat.

After slowly sweeping his gaze around the banquet hall, he spread his arms wide.

“I welcome all the honored guests who have traveled so far to Sichuan. We will now begin the banquet. I hope you enjoy yourselves.”

When he finished his brief greeting and sat, the musicians who had been waiting began to play.

The first day of the banquet had begun.

*****

The morning banquet passed without incident. More precisely, before anything could happen, Tang Jung yanked me out.

He used the excuse that he wanted to catch up with Peng Rak alone.

“What business do old men have mixing in where the youngsters are playing? Let’s not dampen the mood—let’s go.”

“Since when have you cared about things like that, Brother? Are you drunk?”

Peng Rak questioned his out-of-character comment, but Tang Jung pretended not to hear and rose to his feet.

He held out a wine bottle to me and spoke.

“You there. Take this bottle and follow me.” frёewebnoѵēl.com

Grandfather, you’re being incredibly obvious about trying to extract me, you know.

Our bustling movement made Tang Muheok glance our way. But he didn’t seem inclined to stir up trouble in front of everyone and soon looked away again.

Hugging the wine bottle to my chest, I trotted after Tang Jung and Peng Rak.

Not understanding what was going on, Peng Rak looked puzzled as he followed.

“Brother, Brother? Where are we going?”

“My quarters.”

“What? I refuse. Why are you trying to drag me into that dust pit?”

At his words, a laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it. Apparently, Tang Jung’s quarters being filthy wasn’t a recent development.

Looking back and forth between Peng Rak and me, Tang Jung’s mouth twitched.

“What’s a dust pit about it? Sohae cleaned it spotless just yesterday.”

“Yesterday or not, it’s still a dust pit. Anyway, who is Sohae? This child here?”

Peng Rak’s gaze landed on me. I bowed politely, and he gave a brief nod, narrowing his eyes.

“It’s something else that you remember a maid’s name, Brother. Is she... Older sister Hwayeon... no, that’s not right. If she were, she wouldn’t be in a maid’s uniform.”

“She has nothing to do with Hwayeon.”

“She looks just like her.”

“I was shocked too. I even touched her twice, thinking she might be wearing a human-skin mask. I wondered if she was a spy.”

“Honestly, who remembers Hwayeon’s face well enough to suspect that? You’re too suspicious, Brother.”

At his rebuke, Tang Jung gave a crooked smile.

“...You’re right. I suppose no one but me remembers Yeon now. They’ve all turned into handfuls of dirt.”

There was a loneliness in his voice that made me blink. It was the first time I’d seen him show anything like solitude.

Peng Rak sounded flustered as he stammered.

“Have you really gotten old, talking like that? Since when do you say such weak things... And why are you dragging me into this? I’m right here, you know.”

“What’s the point of dragging along a man who’s about to die?”

“Who said I’m going into a coffin tomorrow? I’ve got another couple of years in me at least. And what’s this? You said you wanted to catch up, but you haul me out here just to mope? Is it spring or something?”

“If, by some chance, you meet Hwayeon before I do, tell her her brother is sorry.”

“Brother. That’s enough.”

Peng Rak cut him off with a grimace, but Tang Jung didn’t stop.

“I think about it sometimes. If I’d known Hwayeon would go like that, I should have thrown out all the rules and taught her whatever martial arts she wanted.”

“......”

“Those poison arts were nothing much anyway.”

With his lips pressed together, Tang Jung stared silently up at the sky. The weight of an old man’s regret hung in his lowered eyes.

I hugged the wine bottle tighter to my chest. My heart felt prickly, like I was sitting on a bed of needles.

Not knowing the full story, I didn’t dare offer comfort. But barging in to change the subject would have been just as tactless.

All I could do was stand there quietly and pretend I hadn’t heard anything.

Rubbing his face with a troubled expression, Peng Rak lifted his head. But he didn’t offer consolation. Instead, he went in hard.

“Brother. That’s in bad taste. Don’t drape a dead person over the living.”

“Who says I’m doing that?”

Even at the sharp retort, Peng Rak didn’t even blink.

He spoke coolly.

“If you’re not, then why are you keeping a child who looks like our dead older sister by your side? Don’t do it. It’s something you shouldn’t do to either Hwayeon or that child.”

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