The Return of the Namgoong Clan's Granddaughter-Chapter 90

Namgoong Cheonghae sat in silence as morning broke, the eastern sky blooming with the first light of dawn.

He hadn’t stayed long at the banquet following the Heavenly Martial Festival. Cheonghae disliked crowds and noise, and once the event reached its peak, he quietly slipped away.

Under normal circumstances, he would have remained until the end. After all, this had been a major family celebration. But yesterday, he had not been the one in the spotlight.

The true star of the evening had been his elder brother—Cheongun.

Or more accurately... Cheongun’s daughter, Seolhwa.

Cheonghae had poured his all into preparing for the Heavenly Martial Festival. With talk of appointing the next Head of House beginning to circulate, this was his moment—a rare chance to earn recognition before the clan’s elders, all gathered in one place.

He had done his utmost.

But in the end, he had lost.

While he had showcased the peace of the Namgoong Clan, his brother had displayed its glory.

And no matter how long they’d been retired from the frontlines, the elders of Namgoong were still martial artists at heart. Of course they would be drawn to glory over peace.

Cheonghae accepted the outcome.

Learning that his elder brother had reached the Transcendent Peak Realm brought him genuine joy.

But... that didn’t mean he was magnanimous enough to sit around laughing and drinking like nothing had happened. He had given his best. Of course it stung.

Tap. Tap.

He stared at the small box on his desk—no larger than his palm.

Last night, his niece had come to visit, and her words echoed in his mind.

****

“What brings you here at this hour, Seolhwa?”

Cheonghae had just returned to his study when he noticed her hovering near his desk. His eyes widened in surprise.

“Good evening, Uncle. I stopped by on my way back to the residence.”

“And your father—my brother—is still at the banquet?”

“Yes. He’s still there.”

“Then you came alone?”

“I did. I have something I wanted to say.”

What business could a ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) young girl possibly have at this hour, and alone?

Perplexed but curious, Cheonghae ushered her inside.

“Come in. I’ll prepare some tea.”

“Thank you, but there’s no need. I won’t stay long.”

“...All right then. Have a seat.”

Instead of tea, Cheonghae poured her a glass of water and placed it on the table.

They sat across from one another in silence for a moment.

“So? What brings you here so late? You wouldn’t have come at this hour unless it was urgent.”

Seolhwa smiled and placed a small box on the table between them.

“What’s this?”

“A medicinal pill.”

“A pill?”

Cheonghae opened the lid. A wave of herbal fragrance wafted out.

Inside were small, rounded pellets no bigger than a pinky nail—exactly as she’d said.

“I see. And what kind of medicine is it?”

“Take one whenever your chest feels tight or your mind grows foggy. It will help with your symptoms.”

“A tonic, then. Thank you.”

“Uncle... who do you think is truly behind what happened?”

“...?”

His hand froze mid-motion as he started to pocket the box.

Cheonghae paused. Then he set the box back on the table, frowning.

“What do you mean?”

“The Red Dragon Division incident. You don’t really believe the commander acted alone, do you?”

“...Are you suggesting I was the one who gave the order?”

“No.”

Seolhwa met his gaze without flinching.

“Not you. Your wife.”

“!”

Cheonghae’s expression turned to stone.

Seolhwa held his gaze a moment longer, then pointed to the small box between them.

“That pill is an antidote.”

“!”

“The symptoms I described—those are signs of poisoning.”

“...What?”

“You may not feel anything now, but if those symptoms begin to appear, take that antidote immediately. If it’s reached that stage, it means the toxin has already accumulated in your system. But with this, you’ll survive—”

“Wait—”

“There’s nothing suspicious in it. You can have it tested by a physician you trust.”

“Wait, just... give me a moment.”

Cheonghae pressed his fingers to his temple and let out a slow, pained breath.

He stared down at the box, his expression unreadable.

Long minutes passed. Then finally, with visible effort, he looked up.

“So... what you’re saying is... my wife is trying to poison me?”

“Yes.”

Because in your past life—she succeeded.

Namgoong Cheonghae had died young, poisoned by the wife who shared his bed.

He’d abandoned his pursuit of the Clan Head position in order to search for his lost daughter, and that weakness had cost him his life.

That was how, in Seolhwa’s past life, the third brother Cheongsan had ended up as Head of House. freeweɓnøvel.com

“...That’s absurd. Why would she—?”

“That’s not the first question you should be asking.”

“...What?”

“Why haven’t you asked why I believe it was your wife? Why haven’t you questioned the reason I’d accuse her?”

“!”

“You already knew, didn’t you?”

That the Red Dragon Division’s actions had been orchestrated by none other than Lady Yun Solran.

Cheonghae said nothing. But his silence was an answer in itself.

“She wants to control Namgoong,” Seolhwa said quietly. “Just as she tried to seize command of the sword corps—she wants to bend the entire clan to her will. That’s why she married you in the first place.”

Yun Solran was the daughter of a powerful merchant house.

Her marriage to Namgoong Cheonghae had never been about love. It had been a calculated union—for both of them.

A political alliance.

“But what happens if she realizes you’ll never become Head of House?”

“...Then she’ll kill me. To gain leverage through my death. To position Soryong for succession.”

Exactly.

Seolhwa had only shared a few details, yet Cheonghae grasped his situation in full.

I’m glad I looked into his death from my past life.

Originally, she’d planned to have him attacked during a long journey—but strangely, Cheonghae had died mid-travel before she even acted.

Tracking down the truth led her straight to Yun Solran.

And what she found had been... illuminating.

“...How do you know all this?”

“I used to belong to an organization... adept at gathering information.”

“...I see.”

She had once mentioned Juru—so he likely assumed it had been Hao Clan. There was no need to correct him.

“I don’t intend to expose Aunt as the one behind all this.”

“...Why not?”

“Because I believe that’s what you would prefer, Uncle.”

Namgoong Cheonghae had known—and yet he’d chosen to close his eyes to Yun Solran’s schemes.

Not out of love.

If her involvement came to light, Cheonghae’s reputation would be irreparably damaged. It would ruin his chances of ever being considered for the position of Clan Head.

“I want you to challenge my father openly and fairly.”

Cheonghae was intelligent. And capable.

He may not have been Cheongun’s equal in martial skill, but he was a master of formation arts and adept at managing clan affairs.

If he stayed by Cheongun’s side, Namgoong would become unshakable—strong within and without.

But for that to happen, Cheonghae needed to lose honorably.

He had to fight with everything he had, be defeated, acknowledge it, and yield with dignity.

Because if he suffered a defeat too bitter to swallow, the kind he couldn’t admit even to himself—

he would quietly step down, retreat to his studies, and disappear from the forefront.

In that sense, maybe I should give him one more piece of information.

I wonder how he’ll react to this.

“There’s something else,” she said. “Aunt is hiding something more.”

“...What is it?”

Cheonghae’s expression was one of complete ignorance.

But this—she wasn’t about to hand him.

“That, you’ll need to uncover yourself. It’s not my place to interfere.”

“...?”

“It’s late. I should take my leave.”

Seolhwa stood and respectfully offered a martial salute.

With a brief bow, she turned and walked briskly out of the room.

Namgoong Cheonghae remained seated, staring vacantly at the door long after she was gone.

Thirteen... wasn’t that what she said?

The same age as his son, Soryong.

She had been born just a few months earlier—but could just a few months create this kind of difference?

Was it simply a matter of different upbringings?

No. That girl is just unusually sharp.

Seolhwa might have been thirteen by age, but nothing about her felt like a child.

Throughout their conversation, he’d tried to read her thoughts—but each time he tried, she disarmed him with yet another unexpected revelation.

As if she was telling him, Don’t even try to understand me.

Her mind ran so deep, he couldn’t even begin to guess at the bottom.

It was simply impossible to believe she was only thirteen.

****

Knock. Knock.

A quiet knock at the door broke through Cheonghae’s daze.

He blinked, shaking off the fog of thought, and turned his head toward the sound.

“Who is it?”

—“Father, it’s Woong.”

The voice of his second son came from the other side.

Only now did Cheonghae realize that the sun had already risen. Morning had arrived.

He rubbed his tired eyes and began smoothing out his disheveled appearance.

“...Come in.”

The door slid open softly, and Namgoong Woong stepped inside.

“!”

The sight of him made Cheonghae’s eyes widen in alarm.

His clothes were torn. His hair wild. He was drenched in sweat.

He looked like he had been through a battlefield.

Cheonghae rushed to him in a single stride.

“What on earth happened to you? What is this mess?!”

He turned the boy’s body this way and that, checking him for injuries. But Woong spoke calmly.

“I’m not hurt, Father. Don’t worry. I just... trained a bit harder than usual.”

“...Truly?”

“Yes.”

Only then did Cheonghae breathe a sigh of relief.

Seeing his son appear like that at the break of dawn, he’d feared he had been attacked.

But no—thankfully, that wasn’t the case.

“How could training leave you in such a state? You weren’t doing anything dangerous, were you?”

“No, nothing like that. But Father, I do have a favor to ask.”