The Return of the Namgoong Clan's Granddaughter-Chapter 7

The Namgoong warrior led her directly to the Inner Hall.

“I didn’t expect to be taken straight to the Inner Hall.”

The Namgoong estate was divided into two primary sections: the Inner Hall, where the clan’s direct bloodline resided, and the Outer Hall, where branch families and those affiliated with the clan by name—but not by blood—lived.

She had heard that anyone claiming to be a long-lost child of Namgoong would first be filtered through the Outer Hall.

“This path... it leads to the Celestial Tiger Pavilion.”

In her previous life, Ilhwa had studied everything about the Namgoong Clan in order to destroy it.

She understood the clan’s internal layout well—and she knew exactly what the Celestial Tiger Pavilion was for.

“Seop Mugwang must’ve pulled some strings.”

Since warriors had accompanied her and Seop Mugwang during their journey, it was clear he’d ordered them to notify the clan ahead of ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) time.

Otherwise, there was no way she’d be brought straight to the Inner Hall—let alone the Celestial Tiger Pavilion.

Either way, it spared her the hassle of unnecessary complications.

Meanwhile, inside the Celestial Tiger Pavilion, where the elders and the direct bloodline had just left, three people remained.

Clan Head Namgoong Mucheon, Chief Steward Namgoong Mun, and Seop Mugwang.

― “So, Wind Thunder God... the child has arrived?”

The Chief Steward spoke up with tact, addressing Seop Mugwang, who had abruptly ended a family meeting to come here.

He had already heard rumors that Seop Mugwang had found the granddaughter of the Clan Head, but he hadn’t realized the child would be arriving today.

― “Yes. A very cute and sharp-tongued brat is on her way.”

― “At last, I’ll lay eyes on her.”

The Chief Steward had been wondering what kind of child she was ever since he’d received the message from Seop Mugwang.

To think he was finally going to meet her.

He fixed his eyes on the front gate of the pavilion, tense with anticipation. Before long, the sound of someone approaching could be heard.

Footsteps thumped up the stairs, followed by the soft shuffling of someone walking behind.

“She’s here!”

Moments later, a warrior appeared—followed by a young girl.

The Chief Steward instinctively leaned forward to get a better look at her.

Her black hair was tied up in a neat bun. Her eyes tilted slightly upward at the corners. Her face was pale with a faint blush of baby fat on her cheeks.

A small, sharp nose. Lips set in a firm, composed line.

“Young Lady...?”

The girl’s appearance carried the unmistakable features of Namgoong Seolhwa when she was a child—at least, as the Chief Steward remembered her.

She had grown taller, and the babyish softness had faded, but the resemblance was undeniable.

“‘Chiefy! Hug me!’”

The memory of little Seolhwa running toward him, arms raised, asking to be held—came rushing back in a surge of emotion.

His nose stung.

― “Hah! I felt the same when I first saw the brat,” came Seop Mugwang’s voice in his mind. “But don’t jump to conclusions. Nothing’s confirmed yet.”

Only after hearing Seop Mugwang’s transmission did the Chief Steward rein in his emotions.

He was right. It was still too early to be sure.

This meeting would determine whether the child truly belonged to the Namgoong bloodline.

Until it was certain—until she was confirmed to be Seolhwa—he couldn’t afford to speak or act carelessly.

****

As soon as Ilhwa stepped into the Celestial Tiger Pavilion, she instinctively froze.

A sharp gaze pierced through her, like an arrow shot directly at her chest.

She looked straight ahead—and saw him.

At the far end of the towering, grand hall, seated at its highest point—

Namgoong Mucheon, the Celestial Dragon Sword Emperor.

His hair had grayed into streaks of silver. His sharp eyes gave him a stern, almost cold demeanor.

His closed mouth betrayed nothing of his thoughts. His broad, commanding figure radiated majesty and the kind of presence that could look down upon the entire world.

The sheer pressure emanating from him made him feel distant—untouchable.

His internal strength was impossible to gauge. But Ilhwa knew his level.

A master of the Flowing Realm.

One of the ten living legends of the martial world.

Able to move objects without touching them, his body as tough as armor, capable of stepping through the air itself.

The gap between them was so vast, she felt like a mouse standing before a great dragon.

With just a flick of his finger, he could take her head clean off.

“...What is this?”

Ilhwa looked down at her own hand.

The moment she faced Namgoong Mucheon, her hand had begun to tingle—buzzing with pins and needles.

Her heart thudded in her chest, and the back of her neck ached.

She was nervous.

So this... this is what it feels like to shrink back.

“It’s fine. He’s not my enemy right now. It’s okay.”

Ilhwa clenched her fist and stepped forward into the hall.

All three men turned to follow her movement.

At the center stood Clan Head Namgoong Mucheon.

To his right, Chief Steward Namgoong Mun.

To his left, Seop Mugwang.

When her eyes met Seop Mugwang’s, he flashed a wide grin. Though they had only been apart for half a day, his face lit up with genuine delight.

Instead of bowing in greeting, Ilhwa glanced at Seop Mugwang briefly, then stepped forward and offered a martial salute to Namgoong Mucheon.

“I pay my respects to the Head of the Namgoong Clan.”

It was the first time she stood before a man who had once seemed unreachable in her past life—now meeting him not as an enemy, but as blood.

“Welcome.”

Even that brief greeting carried such resonance that it sent a shiver down her spine.

She bowed again, more deeply this time. The Chief Steward, standing beside Namgoong Mucheon, cleared his throat and stepped forward.

With an air of practiced dignity, he asked in a stern voice,

“What is your name?”

Ilhwa looked at him naturally and answered,

“My name is Seolhwa.”

The Chief Steward’s eyebrows lifted slightly. But he quickly smoothed his expression and continued calmly,

“I’ve been told you claimed to be the child our clan has been searching for. Is that true?”

Ilhwa nodded.

“That’s right.”

“The child we’ve been searching for is a boy. But as you can see, you’re a girl. And from what I hear, there’s no identifying mark on the back of your neck either.”

“I wouldn’t know about that. I only came here because memories of my early childhood in Namgoong returned to me.”

“Memories, you say...”

The Chief Steward stroked his chin, staring intently at her.

He appeared calm and composed, but inwardly he was anxious.

Was this truly the child the Namgoong Clan had searched for over the past eight years? Or not?

He hoped she was. Of all the children they had investigated, none had reminded him of the Young Lady like this one did.

“Can you describe those memories in detail?”

Ilhwa nodded again.

She had expected this question—it didn’t catch her off guard.

Letting out a short breath, she lowered her gaze, as if recalling a distant past.

Amid the tension and silence, she finally opened her mouth.

“The path of poppies...”

Even that one brief phrase caused a subtle crack in the Chief Steward’s expression.

Ilhwa raised her eyes and looked directly at him.

“I remember walking along a path full of poppies near a pond, beneath the hanging branches of willow trees. I was holding someone’s hand. I don’t remember whose hand it was...”

Ilhwa looked down at her own hand.

Her expression was wistful, filled with a quiet longing.

“I remember it being big and hard. Very warm. I think I could only hold onto their thumb.”

The calm tone of her voice washed through the Celestial Tiger Pavilion like a splash of cold water.

The entire room went still.

Feeling the shift in the air, Ilhwa gently curled her hand into a fist.

“Well, that would catch anyone off guard.”

The path of poppies, the willow trees, the pond—those were all in the private garden of the Clan Head’s residence.

“So even memories from a past life can be useful.”

Ilhwa had seen the poppy garden in her past life, when she invaded Namgoong.

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After killing off all the remaining household members and entering the Clan Head’s residence, she had stood before the poppy-lined path—and a memory had suddenly surfaced.

The very same memory she’d just described to the Chief Steward: holding someone’s hand and walking through the flower path.

“Back then, I thought it was so strange, I burned the whole garden down.”

Even though they were ornamental poppies, she’d assumed they were poisonous.

She thought there was no other explanation for such a strange hallucination.

But in truth, it had been a real memory. Her own memory.

“How foolish I was... even back then.”

Silently mocking her former self, Ilhwa lowered her clenched hand and lifted her gaze.

“I lost everything before the age of five. That’s all I remember. Will that be enough?”

Just as the Chief Steward, who had been staring blankly, snapped to and opened his mouth to respond—

Namgoong Mucheon, who had been silent until now, raised his hand to stop him.

He spoke in a deep, steady voice.

“Poppies can be found anywhere across the Central Plains. Ponds and willows are things any rich man can build and admire. And you think those memories prove you belong to Namgoong?”

Ilhwa lifted her head and met Namgoong Mucheon’s eyes.

She had already expected he wouldn’t acknowledge her so easily.

Thousands of children had come forward over the years claiming to be the missing child of Namgoong—some of them girls.

And without a birthmark on her neck, his skepticism was inevitable.

But still—

“This girl cannot understand.”

Namgoong Mucheon’s brows twitched slightly.

“Cannot understand? What exactly?”

“Isn’t it Namgoong who lost a child and is searching for them? Then why must I be the one to prove who I am?”