Chapter 324: After the Fire (9)

Qing quietly wrapped her hand around the sword hilt.

She wasn’t in good enough condition to use her internal energy yet.

Not that she lacked confidence in fighting with just her physical strength, but that kind of technique only worked if her opponent was relatively manageable.

Even just dealing with Sword Aura—if she faced someone who used it while she didn’t, her blade wouldn’t last more than a few exchanges.

But she didn’t need to hold out for long.

If anyone stirred up trouble beneath the mountain gate of the Sect of Divine Maidens, her Master would come flying down on her sword in an instant.

Even the bastards from the Demonic Cult knew that. Hm? Maybe this isn’t the time to act all cocky just because I trust in my Master...

Qing gave Seol Iri a look.

Seol Iri, sensing the situation wasn’t ordinary, broke her cross-legged position—and her entire body released a surge of cold steam.

That pale, drifting chill was her internal energy. After days of diligently training on elixirs, the force she radiated was anything but ordinary.

At least now she won’t get her ass beat, Qing thought with some relief on that front.

—Sir, what’s the matter?

—Who’s inside the carriage?

—The young lady of the Sect of Divine Maidens, Lady Ximen, is inside, sir.

—Keh-heh, really? A disciple of the Sect of Divine Maidens...

Qing quietly drew her sword.

At the same time, Seol Iri suddenly opened her waterskin and seemed to pour it into her hand—then, with a crackling sound, a sword slowly formed, frozen solid.

The hell? Why does she keep pulling out cool shit?

But now wasn’t the time for banter. Qing flicked her fingers—left for me, right for you.

Seol Iri nodded.

Then came voices from outside the carriage.

—Isn’t the Sect of Divine Maidens a man-prohibited sect? You don’t look much like a woman.

—I’m only escorting her this far and will be returning shortly.

—Ah. I see. Everyone, disarm. She’s a disciple of the Sect of Divine Maidens.

“...Huh.”

What’s with this vibe?

Then—knock knock—a knock on the carriage door.

—Pardon me. You say you’re a disciple of the Sect of Divine Maidens, but we’ve received orders to prevent any men from sneaking in. May we check the carriage, just in case?

The voice was deeply lowered, but exceptionally polite.

“I was just about to get out and head up to the mountain gate anyway.”

Qing opened the carriage door—and was met with the gleam of golden armor.

Martial artists rarely wore armor unless there was good reason, so it was clear from appearance alone that this was a government soldier.

Their eyes met—and the armored man froze, his whole face locking up, not even blinking as he stared directly at Qing.

“Uh, excuse me?”

“Ah—f-forgive me! My apologies!”

He gave a hasty bow, ears burning red.

Caught completely unprepared, ambushed by that mercilessly graceful beauty, his heart thundered, his limbs went numb, and his voice came out in an awkward, stammering mumble.

“Um, is something going on?”

“Well... Her Majesty is currently performing a ritual.”

“Her Majesty?”

Ma-ma was a form of address for one of the highest-ranking superiors.

When Qing asked again, the armored man lowered his voice.

“Her Majesty the Empress Dowager has arrived.”

The formal honorific used for the Empress Dowager was the same as for the Son of Heaven: Your Majesty.

“Ah.”

Wait, that lady?

Qing remembered the grieving woman she’d met in front of Shaolin Temple.

In terms of flesh and blood, she supposed that technically she was her biological mother.

But Princess Yeonsul was Princess Yeonsul, and Ximen Qing was Ximen Qing—any attempt to tie them together would only feel more off the closer you looked.

What was it again? A ship and its captain?

If the captain changes, is it still the same ship? Or maybe—if the ship owner changes? If they change the name, is it a different ship?

No, that doesn’t sound right...

Either way, who owned or steered the ship didn’t matter much in the end.

But the truth was somewhere far off, and Qing had no way of knowing it.

In any case, since Qing was not Princess Yeonsul, the Empress Dowager would have no choice but to accept that her daughter was truly, completely gone.

Still... Wouldn’t it end in something bitter like “You’re not my daughter! Give her back, you monster!”? That alone made Qing uneasy.

At last, she climbed the steep mountain path of Shinnyeo Peak and arrived at the eighth ridge, in front of the signboard for the Sect of Divine Maidens.

There, the disciples standing guard lit up the moment they saw her.

But that was it.

They remained firmly at their posts, bowing only once Qing was directly upon them.

“Grand-Senior Aunt! You’ve returned!”

“Welcome back!”

Qing tilted her head.

Huh. That’s weird.

Usually, forget standing guard—at the mere sight of her face, they’d be running out, squealing, bombarding her with a thousand questions.

Qing’s expression was too transparent—so the disciples snorted and explained with mischievous smiles.

“There’s a big guest visiting. The Sect Leader made it real clear—if we get all excitable, we better be ready for a thump on the head.”

“Ah. Right. Thump. That hurts...”

Qing nodded in perfect understanding.

Under the Sect Leader’s ultimate forehead flick, all disciples were equal.

“It really hurts.”

“She got hit once and cried like crazy. Nearly for a whole quarter of an hour.”

“Quarter of an hour, my ass! I just teared up a tiny bit, okay?”

“That was a tiny bit? If that was a leak, then if you cried properly, the whole world would flood!”

“Oh yeah? You wanna go today? Wanna pull some hair and make the tears really leak?”

“If you cry, the world will flood. For the sake of world peace, I shall spare you today. By the way—who’s that beside you? Wow, she’s gorgeous. I think I’m in love.”

Maybe the Sect Leader’s forehead flick wasn’t quite at full power, or maybe they were just too happy to see Qing.

Either way, they were acting exactly like their usual selves.

Someone’s about to get thumped.

“That’s Lady Seol Iri of the Ice Palace. You know Seolhwa, right? One of the Five Beauties of the Martial World?”

“Whoa! Seolhwa! One of the Five Beauties!”

“Yes.”

“Wow, your hair is so beautiful!”

“Yes.”

Seol Iri responded.

“...?”

Wait. Did she just say yes?

They all looked puzzled—as if wondering whether that was normal.

With the usual disciples and the usual Seol Iri, there didn’t seem to be any other special news besides the important guest.

And then—

“You brats. Can’t go even a minute without exposing your true colors, huh? What is this disgraceful behavior in front of a guest?”

“Gasp.”

“Gasp.”

Two disciples inhaled sharply.

They stiffly turned their heads with twitchy, mechanical movements—and upon seeing the Sect Leader, the Silent Sword of Heaven, Wang Juhee, their shoulders shot up in fear.

“M-Mistress! When did you get here?!”

“Since ‘Grand-Senior Aunt, you’ve returned.’ Why?”

So she’d been watching from the start.

And yet not even the ultra-sensitive Qing had noticed—so perhaps it really was Wang Juhee’s miraculous stealth technique, befitting the one known as the Silent Sword of Heaven.

Of course, Wang Juhee had used no such technique.

In any case, Qing had nothing to be guilty about, so she simply beamed and offered her greeting.

“Sect Leader! This disciple has returned.”

“Good. All’s well? Let’s see. You must be Seol Iri of the Ice Palace?”

“I, Seol Iri, greet the Sect Leader.”

Seol Iri bowed deeply with proper decorum.

Even Seol Iri wouldn’t stick to curt “yes” and “no” responses before a grand elder.

Which just goes to show she must be doing it on purpose normally...

“Very well. Yeonseo, please show Lady Seol to the guest hall. Qing, you’ll come with me to see your Master.”

“Yes—OW! Agh...”

SMACK!

The overexcited disciple Yeonseo got herself a proper forehead flick.

As a disciple of Ximen Surin, it was only natural to imitate her signature technique.

After taking enough hits, one develops an irresistible urge to spread this mysterious, profound method of teaching.

“Have Sarang take her instead of Yeonseo.”

“Yes, Sect Leader. I shall obey.”

Sarang, having just witnessed the nuclear strike firsthand, transformed into a perfectly composed and demure young lady.

Such is the miraculous effect of Ximen Surin’s Nuclear Education Method!

****

It had been a while since she’d seen her again. Or... maybe not that long?

Usually, when she went out, a whole season passed before she returned, so two months barely felt like anything.

Still, upon seeing her disciple’s face, Ximen Surin let out a deep sigh.

“Hah. So. They’re calling you Princess Yeonsul now?”

“Ah. You heard?”

“She suddenly received an official post—Minister of Female Education and Grandmotherly Affairs. You think I wouldn’t find out?”

That title was a high-ranking position within the Eastern Palace’s women’s ministry—equivalent to the Minister of Civil Affairs who oversaw an entire administrative branch.

The Minister of Female Education and Grandmotherly Affairs was responsible for educating imperial women—a post among the highest possible for women in the Central Plains.

“Oh. Uh—congratulations?”

Bonk! A cute little sound—but it packed all the force of a tactical nuke.

The sound was light, but the original's hand was heavier. Qing rubbed her scorched scalp furiously.

“Imagine living long enough to smack a princess on the head. What a dramatic life I’ve had.”

“Ugh... why does that hurt so much...”

“Because you lowered your guard. I did help you attain that state—so what now?”

“Well, it’s because I’m having some meridian issues...”

Before she could finish, Ximen Surin snatched her wrist.

A warm current of qi surged in.

“OW! That hurts!”

With her torn meridians, the incoming qi hurt so much it brought tears to her eyes.

At least it had improved—when she’d first come to, just circulating her energy had made her faint.

Ximen Surin’s expression turned grave at the sight of Qing’s teary eyes.

“What on earth is this? Why did my foolish disciple come back with shattered meridians?”

“I’m not a cripple, okay? It’s just—I saw a Sword Wall...”

Qing explained the whole story.

Ximen Surin’s expression softened in relief.

“Hmph. As this Master sees it, you ascended too suddenly, and the backlash was stronger than before. First, you lost an arm in Shaolin; then, all your meridians in Zhongnan. And they warned you—if you view the next Sword Wall without fully recovering, you’ll die?”

“Yes.”

“Hah... There’s never anything easy, is there? Your cultivation’s not yet ready. Best not to go chasing after the next Sword Wall anytime soon. But—”

Zzzt. Ximen Surin’s gaze sharpened.

“So. They’re calling you Princess Yeonsul?”

“Uh... apparently.”

“And you didn’t know beforehand?”

“I only realized after meeting Her Majesty the Empress Dowager. Honestly, I still don’t really believe it. And I don’t want to live as Princess Yeonsul either. I much prefer being Ximen Qing, an outer disciple of the Sect of Divine Maidens.”

At that, Ximen Surin’s face softened completely.

It wasn’t too shocking for the Empress Dowager to visit and perform a ritual.

The deity they served—the Celestial Maiden of Mount Wudang—was famous for her ancient love story with a crown prince.

Because of that, royal women occasionally came to offer rites.

Still, when the Empress Dowager suddenly bowed deeply to her and asked to pay respects to the Great Master—Ximen Surin had truly been stunned.

Great Master? Was the Empress planning to leave the palace and join the Daoist order?

She’d nearly gone blind from panic.

Thankfully, that wasn’t what the Empress meant.

It was traditional in the Central Plains to refer to one’s child’s teacher as Great Master.

Even so... what if she really had come, hiding her identity to join the sect?

But that couldn’t be. Ximen Surin had taken her in directly—there was no way a princess would’ve looked like that grubby little mole the first time they met.

Still, she had to make sure.

And the moment she heard, from Qing’s own lips, that she’d rather live as Ximen Qing than Princess Yeonsul—

Her legs nearly gave out from relief. Her head spun. Her heart pounded.

And in that moment came a profound realization.

This girl... means so much to me.

At first, she’d simply admired her spirit as a woman, her outstanding talent.

She’d thought—This one shall carry the future of womanhood itself, a new wind among daughters of the martial world.

But somewhere along the way, she’d grown attached.

So much so that she now worried someone might take her away.

So of course her face lit up with joy.

Qing tilted her head.

Why does she look so... happy all of a sudden?

Wearing an uncharacteristically satisfied smile, Ximen Surin spoke:

“They said it would take two months to heal, didn’t they? Her Majesty wishes to stay and perform rites for three. So that should match nicely. You’ll attend to her during that time.”

Qing made a face of pure revulsion.

“Me? But I, uh... Honestly, I don’t even remember anything. She calls me her daughter, but it just feels awkward. What if she never finds the real one and starts screaming Give me back my daughter, you monster?”

“Don’t say such disgraceful things. She’s your mother, memory or not. And even without memory, people have instincts. You think she wouldn’t know her own child?”

That’s exactly the problem...

Qing looked thoroughly uncomfortable.

So Ximen Surin gently patted her head.

“Even if you choose to live as Ximen Qing—you can’t just turn your back on a mother searching for her child. It’s not like she’ll be out and about again anytime soon. Two months out of your whole life. Serve her with respect.”