The air above the outer disciple courtyard carried the tang of old wood, sweat, and something fainter bitter and acrid, like crushed herbs rotting beneath the sun.
Tang Yun sat cross-legged in the corner of the neglected pavilion. Around him, the faint rustle of disciples sparring or resting could be heard, but no one paid him much attention. He had cultivated that image well of the "useless" youngest young master who could barely circulate qi.
But behind his half-lidded eyes, thoughts spun like silk threads delicate, interconnected, lethal.
A New Tool
Within the folds of his sleeve was a newly completed creation: a poison-imbued thread thinner than a strand of hair, harvested from the refined venom of a Three-Tailed Bone Moth and infused with his fledgling Poison Qi.
It wasn't a deadly weapon yet but it was a tool. And in the hands of someone cunning, tools were more dangerous than blades.
He called it Karmic Toxin Thread.
"Invisible to the naked eye, sensitive to qi vibrations. It weakens circulation when laced across a vital meridian…"
It had taken him five nights to make this first thread, hiding away in the ruins of a forgotten herb cellar beneath the Tang estate.
A Test of Control
"Brother Tang, you're here again?" a voice said nervously.
Tang Yun looked up lazily. It was Wei Shen, a thin outer disciple who'd failed his Qi Awakening for the third time. Tang Yun had once overheard others mocking him for being "slower than a blind dog."
But Tang Yun didn't see uselessness.
He saw desperation. And desperate men were easy to mold.
"I'm always here," Tang Yun said. "No one bothers me."
Wei Shen rubbed the back of his neck. "Well… a few of us were going to try sparring later. But it's just form practice. You could come. Maybe… maybe it'll help?"
Tang Yun smiled faintly. "I'd like that."
Inside, his mind was racing.
"Perfect. Time to test how far I can stretch a thread."
Laying the Thread
That night, beneath the moon's pale glow, five outer disciples stood in a crude circle on the dirt field. They moved through basic martial forms, slow and awkward clearly untrained.
Tang Yun stood on the edge, correcting his stance now and then, but mostly observing.
He had already planted two strands of Karmic Toxin Thread in the earth, drawn across the practice area like tripwires. Infused with his qi, they could only be sensed if someone deliberately scanned the space.
Wei Shen stumbled, sweat beading on his forehead. As he stepped across the thread, Tang Yun's fingers twitched slightly.
The thread responded like a living thing.
Wei Shen staggered mid-form, clutching at his chest.
"H-huh? My qi it's skipping?"
Tang Yun rushed to his side, face filled with concern. "Are you alright?"
Wei Shen nodded weakly, dazed. "It's like my dantian choked for a moment…"
Tang Yun helped him sit. "You've been training too hard. You need rest. Here chew this leaf."
It was a harmless antidote mixed with calming herbs. Tang Yun made a show of examining his pulse.
"He won't know I caused it. But he'll remember that I helped."
The Beginning of Authority
By the time the others noticed, Tang Yun had subtly stepped into the role of caretaker—quietly guiding their movements, offering suggestions, correcting mistakes.
To them, it was Wei Shen who had asked Tang Yun to join them.
To Tang Yun, it was his first foothold.
Wei Shen spoke up a day later. "Brother Tang, do you know more about poison herbs? I found something in the woods that burned my fingers."
Tang Yun answered him, of course. Gently. Precisely.
By the end of the week, the five had turned to him for advice on cultivation exercises, injuries, and even gossip.
It was slow.
It was subtle.
But Tang Yun now had a circle of outer disciples who listened.
A Private Revelation
That night, as Tang Yun returned to his hidden herb cellar, he lit a dim blue flame and examined his cultivation again.
Qi Awakening Realm – Early Stage.
Poison Qi circulation: 23%.
Dantian: stable.
Meridians: Partial flow achieved in secondary paths.
Most would still consider him weak.
But "weak" was a mask, not a truth.
And he was sharpening his strength every day like refining a blade in poison, letting corrosion strip away weakness, leaving only deadly precision.
Tang Yun rolled up his sleeve and examined the faint purple stain along one of his forearms. Traces of the Widow's Blanket poison. It had become easier to handle. His body was adapting.
"Another week and I'll be able to push the Widow's Qi through two secondary meridians."
"And when that happens… I can test it on someone who deserves it."
A Message from the Past
As he prepared to sleep, his thoughts wandered back to the moment of his death.
Swords had pierced his back. Poison arrows from assassins had blackened his veins. But he had still stood against dozens of enemies, refusing to kneel.
"In this life, I won't die cornered."
"I'll be the one driving others into dead ends."
"Not with brute strength. But with venom, shadows, and patience."
Introducing the Martial World
The world beyond the Tang Clan was vast.
Tang Yun knew the stories of the Great Eight Clans especially the Namgung Clan, famous for their sword arts. The Zhao Clan with their golden body technique. The Gu Clan that sealed techniques with formations.
And the Great Eight Sects, too.
The Wudang Sect, serene but deadly. The Hao Sect, masters of information. The Moonflower Sect, comprised only of beautiful women skilled in illusions and charm.
And many more.
He didn't plan to confront them anytime soon.
But one day, they would hear the name Tang Yun again.
"And they'll whisper it with fear."
Final Thoughts
As the candle flickered low, Tang Yun began weaving another Karmic Toxin Thread, using the essence of Green Shadow Leaves and his own diluted blood.
Another tool.
Another thread.
Another step.
"To control others… you don't need strength."
"You need leverage."
"And I've only just begun."
[Tags]: Reincarnation, Martial Arts, Poison, Scheming Protagonist, Cultivation, Weak to Strong, Anti-Hero, Cold Protagonist, Clan Wars, Hidden Identity, Revenge