I Kidnapped the Youngest Daughter of the Sichuan Tang Clan

Since I’d caused incident after incident recently, I figured it was time to keep a low profile for a while.

Thankfully, during my trip to the North Sea Ice Palace, news about the Heaven-Slaughter Star and the Murim Alliance Leader affirming my cultivation level had spread widely, so my original goals were more or less achieved.

Now, I was no longer just a “promising young martial artist” or “Tang Clan’s son-in-law,” but recognized as a Flowering Stage martial artist, someone who stands as a pillar of the Central Plains.

Given that, I decided to shift focus from external activities to internal affairs within the Tang Clan.

Of course, that doesn’t mean I’m taking over any actual work. I can read and write, sure, but administrative duties are outside my wheelhouse.

I’m a swordsman, after all. No matter how high my cultivation, non-combat matters should be left to professionals.

So, instead, I visited Tang Cheong to offer congratulations, discussed with Seol Lihyang ways to contain the cold energy of the Eternal Ice Essence within the training hall without it leaking out, and offered a bit of comfort to Seo Mun-Hwarin—who, surrounded by her fawning attendants, was snacking on sweets while brooding over the side effects of Rejuvenation and the burden of being a Flowering Stage expert.

And finally, I began seriously contemplating the mental restriction that came with my regression.

Up until now, I’d simply left it alone, thinking I lacked the strength to even try breaking it.

But now… I’ve reached the Flowering Stage, haven’t I? A true top-tier expert. And in theory, mental restrictions become easier to resist as one’s cultivation increases. Most are rendered ineffective once you reach the Flowering Stage.

After all, mental restrictions are, in the end, a force that binds the mind and spirit. If you can manipulate willpower, you should be able to resist it head-on.

Like how internal energy is used to expel poison from the body, one should be able to break a mental restriction with willpower.

Or so I thought.

“...This is driving me crazy.”

The mental restriction placed on me didn’t budge an inch.

I had tried to confront it consistently ever since reaching the Flowering Stage, even prioritizing this over all other forms of training. Yet, even now, when I’ve grown quite adept at wielding willpower, it still felt completely insurmountable.

The only progress I could claim was that I was now aware of the restriction even when I didn’t attempt to speak about my regression.

And if you can feel something, you can cut it. If you can see it, you can dodge it. Sensing the restriction means that interference through willpower is possible.

The problem is… this restriction is too solid. Far beyond what a human should be able to impose.

“Judging by its level, it’s stronger than anything at the Flowering Stage.”

They say the Flowering Stage represents the limit of human martial cultivation. While levels beyond it may theoretically exist—such as the “Path of Nothingness”—no one has ever been confirmed to reach it.

Still, there have always been speculations that legends like Zhang Sanfeng, Lü Dongbin, and Bodhidharma transcended the Flowering Stage.

All were said to have ascended or reached nirvana—the realm of immortals and buddhas.

That’s why people say Heaven allows humans to reach only as far as the Flowering Stage. Anything beyond is divine.

And yet, even I—who have just stepped into that realm—can do nothing against this restriction.

Perhaps this wasn’t something created by human hands to begin with.

“…No. Come to think of it, that’s only natural.”

Regression is an act of defying the heavens. Forcibly rewinding time that should only move forward, like an arrow shot from a bow.

It’s hard to believe such a feat could be achieved by human power alone.

Back at Zhongnan Mountain, I heard that in the distant past, Taoist spells were far more powerful. And at Shaolin, Master Gakjeong told me of a passage describing “one who walks toward yesterday rather than tomorrow”—clearly a reference to a regressor.

Putting those two together, two possibilities come to mind.

One: In the distant past, there were Taoist masters equal to Flowering Stage experts, and several of them pooled their strength to craft a time-reversing spell that I happened to activate by chance in my previous life.

Two: Regression has existed for ages, but its source is not human—rather, beings that transcend humanity.

I can’t be sure which is correct, but… I’m leaning toward the latter.

Both theories sound absurd, but considering the nature of the mental restriction, the second seems more plausible.

To a regressor, being unable to speak of regression is a colossal shackle.

If it were humans who reversed time themselves, they’d surely want to speak of it—to warn, explain, or share knowledge. Why place a restriction that only hinders?

Unless… they weren’t human to begin with.

Of course, following that logic, I’d still end up wondering why immortals or buddhas would bother creating such a restriction at all.

“Huu…”

A sigh escaped my lips. The more I thought, the more tangled it became, until even frustration began to bubble up.

To sum it up: a being stronger than even a Flowering Stage martial artist placed a restriction on me—one that I, even now, cannot break.

I’ve made no real progress since first discovering the restriction.

Tang Sowol hasn’t pressured me, but we both know I haven’t told her anything about my regression.

And while she wouldn’t complain even if I stayed silent forever…

The guilt of hiding it, and the occasional loneliness that feels like I’ve been cast out of time itself, keeps dragging at me.

“…Haa.”

Another fruitless sigh. I opened my eyes again from my seated position.

Then—

“Have you not been sighing a lot more lately? Would you like to take a break, Cheon Hwi?”

Right in front of me, close enough that our noses might touch, Tang Sowol crouched down and looked into my face.

Those deep green eyes, full of mischief and warmth—just meeting her gaze was enough to melt the irritation I’d been feeling.

I let out a small laugh.

“What are you doing down there?”

“Hehe. Just admiring your face.”

“…My face?”

“Yes. When we talk, I focus on your words. When you move, I focus on your actions. But there are very few moments when I can focus purely on your face. So when you’re quietly sitting still like this… I can’t help but admire you.”

“I see. I hope it met your standards. I only washed my face once this morning.”

“Oh my? Cheon Hwi worries about such things?”

“If you’re going to stare from this close, even someone who doesn’t normally care would get self-conscious.”

“Then I must say, hearing that you care about how I see you is a rather sweet sound. But no worries. Maybe it’s thanks to Rejuvenation, but your skin is fairer than mine.”

Then she reached out with both hands and gently examined my cheeks, nodding in satisfaction.

I didn’t know why she looked so pleased with herself, but seeing her happy made me feel happy too.

As I watched her beaming, she eventually sat down beside me and spoke.

“Oof. By the way, I haven’t seen you doing much physical training lately.”

“I’ve gotten used to Qi Hardening, so now it’s time to focus seriously on willpower.”

“Willpower?”

“Yeah. My body has been tempered over a lifetime. But willpower—I’ve only just begun to grasp it. Physically moving and wielding a sword is still important, of course, but right now, willpower is still in its infancy. So I’m focusing more on that.”

“Ah. So that’s why Father and Sister Hwarin mostly meditate.”

“That’s right. So what’s your question?”

“Well… Cheon Hwi, you started martial arts late, and you’re not even twenty yet. So technically, your ‘whole life’ of training is just a few years…”

It is my whole life. And I’ve undergone Rejuvenation, haven’t I?

“Hehe. Just teasing. Don’t get grumpy now—or I’ll want to tease you more.”

She giggled and lightly slapped her own thigh.

“Training with your body makes you physically tired. So training with your mind must make your spirit tired, right? Would you like to lie down for a bit?”

“Hah. Did you really think I’d fall for that?”

…Correct answer.

Tang Sowol, as always, knows me far too well.

Especially when the topic of regression—or things that only exist in my memory—comes up, my mind becomes restless.

But when I rested my head on her thigh, all my worries seemed to evaporate.

At this point, even if I fell into deviation again, I might still come back—if Tang Sowol was there.

Separate from how much I cherish her, just being close to her, just touching her, gives me an inexplicable sense of calm.

Maybe it’s the pure sincerity I came to realize after reaching the Flowering Stage, or maybe it’s the poison from her that helped me achieve Rejuvenation at the core of my being.

Whatever the case, just being like this fills me with contentment.

Tang Sowol gently stroked my hair, a peaceful smile on her lips.

We stayed like that in silence for a while. Then, as if something occurred to her, she opened her eyes wide.

“Oh! Have you heard the rumor going around lately? It’s quite amusing.”

“I haven’t. I’ve only been focused on internal Tang Clan matters lately.”

“It’s not bad news—it’s good news. You’ll like it.”

She cleared her throat theatrically.

“Hem-hem. Until now, the Namgung Clan was called the greatest clan under heaven. But after the attack from the Hwangbo Clan and now that your achievement of the Flowering Stage is widely known… people are starting to say something different.”

“…Don’t tell me.”

“Yes~. They’re saying the Tang Clan might be the new greatest clan under heaven.”

“Well… they’re not wrong.”

I’d been slow to realize it, probably because I spent most of my life in sects that valued individuals more than groups.

But truly, the Tang Clan had reached a level deserving of that title.

Tang Jincheon and I alone made two Flowering Stage martial artists within the clan.

And even though she’s technically a guest, Seo Mun-Hwarin was also staying here, and willing to lend her strength if needed.

That means three Flowering Stage experts residing in one place.

Other sects might have two—or rarely, three—but only if you count both the current and retired leaders.

Meanwhile, our Young Clan Head Tang Cheong is still at Sub-Perfection. With his talent and dedication, he’ll surely reach the Flowering Stage soon.

And if Tang Sowol, who’s even more gifted than Tang Cheong, reaches it as well…?

The Tang Clan would become a family housing five Flowering Stage martial artists in a single generation. Unheard of.

And unlike loose alliances like the Murim Alliance or the Black Lotus Sect, all of these would be united under a single household.

“A stroke of fortune.”

“Yes. A blessing, indeed.”

The title Greatest Clan Under Heaven brings not just pride, but also opportunity.

Countless merchants and officials will flock to tie themselves to the Tang Clan.

Prosperity will breed more prosperity—the future couldn’t look brighter.

If not for the Heavenly Demon, that is.

Still, the strength of our name would help push forward the plan for the Justice Alliance.

In fact, we were just about ready to meet with the Black Lotus Sect Leader as the first step.

“Wait. Doesn’t that mean we’ll be busier than ever?”

“Most likely. Especially once word spreads that we’ve opened exchanges with the Ice Palace—merchants will come swarming for North Sea specialties.”

…I hope Father-in-law and the steward can handle it.

“We’re already transferring people from the merchant guilds into the steward’s command, and we raised salaries for those in charge of internal affairs. We’ll manage.”

“It’s not just a temporary surge, though—it’s a long-term increase. And people aren’t so easy to find.”

“…Until then, we just have to endure, right?”

Good grief.

After a moment of hesitation, I asked,

“Do you… have any poison that helps forget fatigue, even for a moment?”

“There is one, but it only postpones fatigue until tomorrow.”

“…So basically, a shell game.”

“If it actually cured fatigue, we’d call it a medicine, not a poison.”

“…Fair point.”

I offered a silent prayer for the poor Tang Clan officials about to be worked to death.

“Looks like it’s time we schedule our visit to the Black Lotus Sect.”

Of course, that’s that—and this is this.

If you just keep waiting for stability, you’ll never get anything done.