The Return of the Namgoong Clan's Granddaughter-Chapter 70

“I-I only heard it from someone else! They said Lady Seolhwa lived in a pleasure house before returning to Namgoong... that she was trained to become a courtesan... I swear, I didn’t start the rumor! Please, forgive me!”

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The three returned to the residence.

Seolhwa entered her room in silence. Neither Yeoyul nor Ryeong found the courage to ask her anything more.

“What do we do, Guard? I messed up, didn’t I? I definitely messed up, right? If I’d known the lady was standing right there, I wouldn’t have said a word...”

Yeoyul wept bitterly, curled up in guilt.

Ryeong let out a long sigh beside her.

She wanted nothing more than to drag those gossiping maids back and have them flogged on the spot.

But it was Seolhwa who had let them go.

If the young lady had chosen to forgive them, Ryeong had no right to punish them on her own.

“Huwaaah... It’s my stupid mouth... all my fault... waaaah...”

And then—

“We must inform the Clan Head immediately. Whoever started this rumor must be punished. It’s clearly malicious slander!”

“No. Don’t report anything until I say so.”

“But my lady, this is serious. We can’t stand by while servants of the clan insult you—”

“Who is your master, Ryeong?”

“...You are, my lady.”

“Then wait. I’ll speak to Grandfather myself when the time is right.”

Because of those words, Ryeong couldn’t even submit a report.

And yes, eventually the Clan Head would hear of the rumor on his own.

But by then, it would already be everywhere.

“Haah...”

“Huwaaaah... I really did ruin everything... My dumb mouth... waaah...”

It was then the door opened—and Seolhwa stepped outside.

Yeoyul and Ryeong turned to her in alarm.

She had changed into her training clothes.

“M-my lady...?”

“You’re not seriously... planning to go out there again today?”

With those rumors?

To the sparring grounds crawling with wolves looking for something to tear apart?

“My lady, perhaps you should rest today...”

But Seolhwa casually stepped down the stairs, unfazed, and stood before them.

“It's not a rumor that'll vanish overnight. Locking myself in my room out of fear is a waste of time. And in the end, I’d be the one losing.”

“But still—”

“And besides... it’s partly true.”

She gave a slight shrug.

Ryeong and Yeoyul stared at her, eyes wide.

“...Pardon?”

“Hic...”

“I was at a pleasure house before I returned to Namgoong. I never poured drinks, though.”

Technically, it had been a Blood Demon Cult front masquerading as a pleasure house.

And most of her time had been spent not serving drinks, but killing people.

Compared to the truth, the rumors are almost a kindness.

This was a sect of righteous martial artists. Even a pleasure house past would draw disdain, but if they ever learned she was an assassin, the reaction would be far worse.

“Let’s go. We’ll be late.”

Without waiting for a response, Seolhwa walked between the two speechless women.

Ryeong and Yeoyul exchanged a look, then hurried after her.

****

The rumors, fueled by the maids, spread rapidly.

“They say the first master’s daughter—the young lady who just returned—grew up in a pleasure house.”

“Whoa. So that rumor’s actually true?”

“Seems like it. You know the type—where they raise little girls to be courtesans.”

“No way... I mean, maybe she was just a geisha or something?”

“Geisha are still courtesans. The Namgoong Clan’s daughter learning something like that? Kinda messed up...”

“If outsiders find out, it could be a real disgrace to the clan...”

Even as the whispers spread, Seolhwa lived no differently than before.

She trained with the Red Dragon Division, continued her clan duties, and didn’t neglect a single session.

She paid no attention to the stares or muttering of the maids and guards.

Anyone else—any other thirteen-year-old—might have locked themselves in their room and cried for days.

Might’ve run to their parents, buried their face in a warm embrace, begging for comfort.

But Lady Seolhwa...

The eye of a storm is always still.

Ryeong found herself thinking: Seolhwa was like that—like the center of a typhoon.

The world raged around her, but she remained eerily calm.

So calm, it was almost terrifying.

The real trouble began two days later, at dawn.

“We’re sorry, my lady. It was our failure.”

“...We have no excuse.”

“We truly apologize...”

With only four days left until the first selection trials, the Red Dragon Division members who gathered for morning training looked ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) grim.

“What happened?”

“We’ve all... been disqualified from the upcoming advancement exam. It’s our fault. We’re sorry, my lady.”

“Tell me everything.”

And so they did.

The night before, after dinner—

While training on their own at the sparring grounds, a group from the 14th unit—known for their poor relations with the 11th—showed up and started mocking them.

“They said we could train all we wanted, but we’d never become Inner Hall guards. That we were wasting our time.”

“They called us birdbrains! Said we were born low, so no matter how hard we tried, we’d never fly.”

The 11th unit was made up of talented but unconnected fighters.

They were the highest-ranking group among the Outer Hall, but had no further prospects.

A place where skilled people with no backing eventually settled.

And that was what the 14th mocked.

“That part... we could live with. We’ve heard it before. But then—”

Namgoong Jihyung clenched his fist.

His arm trembled with rage.

“They crossed the line... they insulted you, my lady...”

“Oh right, the one teaching you all is from a courtesan house, right?”

“A daughter of Namgoong, raised somewhere that sold wine and women. What a joke.”

“Learning martial arts from a courtesan? What’s next—makeup tutorials?”

When they started mocking Seolhwa directly, Jihyung couldn’t hold himself back.

When Namgoong Jihyung lunged forward, his squad followed like untamed colts, throwing themselves into the fray.

And just like that—a full-blown brawl erupted.

“We were summoned by the Red Dragon Division Leader. All of us. Everyone in the 14th unit, too... He said we’re disqualified from the promotion exam.”

Namgoong Jihyung hung his head low.

The others did the same.

“We’re truly sorry, my lady. Everything you’ve done for us... we threw it all away.”

“We apologize...”

None of them could raise their heads.

No—none of them dared.

For the first time, they’d dared to believe they could make it into the Inner Hall.

They had no background, no names to rely on—but behind them stood the Namgoong Clan’s granddaughter, like an unshakable pillar.

They had seen the swordplay of Peak Realm masters. They had begun to dream of reaching higher.

And then—because of a single mistake—they’d lost it all.

How could they possibly look her in the eye?

“...So,” Seolhwa said.

“...”

“Did you win?”

Namgoong Jihyung blinked up at her, stunned.

He had expected anger. Fury. Maybe even disappointment.

But Seolhwa’s face was as calm as ever—composed, unaffected.

“...Pardon?”

“That fight,” she said again. “Did you win it?”

The Red Dragon members looked at one another, confused for a beat—

Then the words spilled out, charged with just a hint of indignation.

“Of course we did! The 14th unit was never a match for us!”

“It felt easy, to be honest—maybe it’s the training you gave us, my lady.”

“We’re standing here just fine, but every one of them left with something broken.”

Seolhwa nodded.

“Then that’s all that matters. Shame I missed it.”

She was so nonchalant, it was disorienting.

Like someone finishing a story about what they’d eaten last night, she picked up her wooden sword with a casual grace.

The Red Dragon members stared, dumbfounded.

“...What are you doing? Aren’t we training?”

“...But, my lady... training doesn’t really mean anything now...”

Before he could finish the thought, a wooden sword flashed before his eyes.

Namgoong Jihyung froze. His breath caught without him realizing it.

“The purpose of training is to grow stronger—not to become Inner Hall guards. Are you saying that once you make it, you’ll stop training?”

“T-that’s not what I meant...”

“I told you before. I only ask that you never give up.”

“...!”

Jihyung’s eyes wavered. The others looked equally shaken, on the verge of tears.

They had thought it was all over. That they’d have to wait another long year.

But Seolhwa, with a voice steady as steel, said instead—

“As we agreed—your only focus is to train. The exam is still approaching. Worry only about becoming stronger.”

Her gaze turned cold—resolute.

“I’ll handle the rest.”

****

Returning to the residence, Seolhwa didn’t head to the clan training hall.

Instead, she left a simple order with Ryeong and Yeoyul: Don’t let anyone in.

Then she made her way behind the estate, to her personal practice grounds.

There was no better way to clear a tangled mind than to swing a sword until thought vanished.

Often, in the flow of the blade, paths she hadn’t seen would suddenly appear.

Everything would become sharp, simple, and clear.

It was a habit born of her past life.

Shff—shff—

The real sword sliced through the air, cutting qi with its keen edge.

There aren’t many people who know I’ve been training the Red Dragon Division.

Anyone who had passed by during those sessions must’ve been a “watcher”—someone with rank, a middle or senior official of the clan.

Which meant the order to sabotage the exam had likely come from someone with real power.

And the rumors that spread at just the right time—right before the Celestial Martial Festival.

This year’s Celestial Martial Festival is a test. A trial to prove myself as the rightful successor.

So all of this—every insult, every trap—was part of the battle for the heir’s seat.

They’re trying to shake me. To disgrace my father’s name by undermining me.

Could it be her...?

There were many in Namgoong who coveted power,

but only one woman who would stoop to something this vile.

A woman of Namgoong blood, but not of Namgoong upbringing.

Namgoong Cheonghae’s wife: Yun Solran.

If she’s going to play dirty—

shff—shff—

Then maybe it’s time I got a little dirty too.

The crimson trail of her sword rippled through the air—faster, clearer than even her bout with Ryeong.

She should’ve been breathless from the pace, but her lungs stopped struggling. Her body adapted.

Wind. Sound. Even breath—vanished into silence.

It was as if the sword was moving her now, not the other way around.

And then—

“That’s how you die.”

Clang!

A blade clashed against hers, halting the strike.