Chapter 336: The Showdown Between Man and Ximen Qing (4)

It’s said that a dog’s hearing is about four times that of a human.

Hearing isn't exactly a measurable trait with specific units that allow such a direct comparison, but still, they say a dog can distinguish sounds about four times farther away, so let’s just go with that.

In that regard, Qing’s hearing is similar to that of a dog.

However, dogs can hear sounds in ranges humans cannot—sounds beyond the auditory perception of medieval, primitive Zhongyuan, where the very concept of such frequencies doesn’t even exist.

So, in a hearing contest between Qing and a dog, their sound-gathering capacity might be roughly equal, but dogs win on a technicality due to their broader hearing range.

On the other hand, a dog’s sense of smell is said to be about ten thousand times stronger than a human’s.

Even Qing, who transcends humanity, can’t hope to match a ten-thousandfold difference.

In a smelling contest, it’s a complete and utter defeat. Dogs win by a landslide.

When it comes to vision, humans are originally superior.

And Qing—being someone who has transcended the human eye—possesses the clarity and light-gathering capacity of a night-vision-equipped magnifying lens.

So in total, one win and two losses. Dogs win!

One could say Qing is inferior to a dog.

If Qing found out about this result, she’d probably be indignant.

She’d complain that there are five senses, so why judge based on only three? What kind of biased battleground is this?

If we expand the assessment to all five senses, then taste goes to humans.

Touch, too, goes to humans.

So, if you’re desperate to beat a dog, you could argue that Qing wins three to two, making her superior after all.

But either way, the dogs noticed the ambush first.

While Qing was entirely absorbed in roasting a pheasant, licking her lips at the savory aroma, the dogs were already sniffing the scent of countless humans.

In the end, Qing was outdone by dogs.

That said, perspectives might differ slightly here.

To dogs, the distinction between friend and foe among humans is rather vague.

So when a familiar scent wafted in—and among the humans were their former owners—the hierarchy-obsessed dogs all suddenly shot to their feet, barking, Wow, that’s the master’s scent!

Woof woof! (Master!)

“Hey, hey! Where are you going?!”

The dogs really did go running toward their old masters.

Qing, not understanding dog speech, could only shout in confusion.

“Hey! Where are you going?!”

Qing had underestimated a dog’s loyalty.

No matter how much of a human scumbag someone might be, animals—especially dogs—often still view them as good masters.

And in the face of such absolute loyalty and devotion, a human’s heart can be pierced and conquered like paper.

“Don’t tell me... Eyebrows, you too?”

Eyebrows kept darting its head back and forth between Qing and the forest ahead, then, as if making up its mind, bolted toward Qing.

“Eyebrows!”

Qing spread her arms wide in delight—

Only for Eyebrows to dart cleanly between her legs and tear off in the opposite direction.

Because its master was over there.

And oddly enough, even dogs seemed to prefer being called Zhao Zilong over Eyebrows—for reasons of inexplicable canine taste.

“Hmph. And they say beasts don’t abandon you.”

Qing clicked her tongue.

She could more or less guess where they were headed.

It had only been a little over ten days. No matter how attached they’d gotten, it couldn’t outweigh the kindness of the ones who had raised them until now.

Besides, Qing wasn’t in any position to care for dogs right now, so in a way, it was for the best.

“You guys go too. Stay here and you’ll get hurt.”

Whiiine.

The alpha wolf, Wolfdol, let out a whimper.

It wasn’t a sound wolves normally make, but after spending a few days around dogs, he seemed to have picked it up.

“Go. If you pick a fight with a strong fighter, you’ll all get wiped out. You get what I’m saying?”

In response, Wolfdol placed his paw on Qing’s shoulder and gave her a nibble.

He didn’t understand a word and was just saying, Come play.

I mean, how could a wolf understand human language?

...Actually, they can!

Wild wolves, highly sensitive to survival, can learn to understand a few very simple human words in their own way.

“Go,” “Get lost,” and “Shoo” mean go away.

“Wolf,” “Kill,” and “Catch it” are attack signals.

“Good boy,” “Come here,” and tsk-tsk are taken as friendly signs.

Wolfdol, already the head of a pack, had only submitted to another capable alpha out of survival instinct—an alpha who exuded danger at a glance.

And because he didn’t want to lose a leader who could catch meat on her own, he’d only pretended not to understand.

“Oh come on. I said go. You dumbass—you can’t even recognize a deathtrap when you see one. Go! ...Wait, you’re really going?”

Well, if you’re told to go, what choice is there?

And so, the canine beasts that had always made a ruckus around Qing vanished without a trace.

Overwhelmed by an abrupt wave of loneliness, Qing couldn’t help but tear off a pheasant leg and sink her teeth into it.

Mm. Tasty...

Qing savored the chewy texture of the pheasant meat and quietly closed her eyes.

And with her eyes shut, the sounds from afar came into sharper focus.

Most of it was stuff like:

“AAAGH!” “GYAAAAH!” “UGH!” “FUCK!” “SHIT!”

You know, the usual screams and cursing.

They should’ve only laid a trap or two.

The current Yang household was a hellscape filled with thick and thin wooden stakes, along with all sorts of experimental traps scattered around—a truly dangerous place.

And with those noises now coming in from every direction, hmm...

It seems they were taking their sweet time and had finally bunched up together.

Ah. Were they... waiting until everyone had gathered before moving in?

Maybe I should’ve just broken through the blockade in the dead of night.

But well, I’m a forest-dwelling mountain person now too.

It’s time to teach them the laws of the wild: survival of the fittest, the strong eat the weak, and the weak get culled.

Qing gave the campfire one last look—it was blazing like a beacon, fed with wet logs—and then skillfully stacked the remaining firewood so it would catch properly.

Then she disappeared soundlessly into the dense trees.

****

Crunch.

Do Usam ground his teeth.

There’s a saying: to sabotage someone is to “grab their ankle.”

Do Usam now understood exactly where that expression came from—deep in his bones.

“AAAGH!!”

A dog handler from the main compound seemed to have tripped over something, letting out a desperate scream.

Do Usam was about to scold him for whining—

But the pain in that voice wasn’t ordinary.

When he rushed over and pulled the man up, he saw punctures and blood all over his torso and limbs.

“There’s an ankle trap! Everyone, sweep the ground with your weapons as you move forward!”

It was unfortunate, but the skewered guy was done for.

“S-Save me...”

“Wrap it with bandages and hang on until the mission’s over and we come back.”

But there was no way he’d make it.

His intestines had been damaged by stakes carved from wood. Even if treated immediately, recovery was a far-off dream.

Still, the squad had morale to consider.

They couldn’t just say, “You’re gonna die,”

So they told him to hold on.

And with one man dropped, the pace of their search slowed a bit.

Then again, more screams: “AAAAAGH!”

“What now?! I told you to sweep the ground ahead with your weapons!”

“There’s something like wooden nails on the ground, sir!”

Do Usam checked the wound. The guy’s foot had been pierced.

Good shoes are expensive.

Low-tier bandits with no internal energy or martial skill don’t wear good shoes.

At best, they wrap their feet in cloth.

So when they stepped on wooden spikes buried under the fallen leaves, it went right through, as if through bare skin.

“Goddamn it! Shorten your stride and brush your feet low across the ground as you walk! The nails are hidden under the leaves!”

So now they were slowly brushing the leaves aside with their feet as they moved—

A lot slower, and it drained their energy twice as fast.

That’s when it happened.

One of the bandits, using a broadsword to scrape the ground ahead, suddenly felt a snap—

The tension of something breaking.

And in that very moment—FWIP!

“Guh!”

It was instant death—so sudden, he didn’t even have time to scream.

The guy next to him screamed on his behalf instead.

“WAAAH! AAAARGH!”

“What now?! Again—what the hell is it this time?!”

This time, it was a different kind of trap—one that used a taut branch pulled back and tied with a cord.

A branch tied down like a bowstring.

Once the cord snapped, the branch would spring back into place, driving a stake into whoever triggered it.

What made it particularly vicious was the height—it was designed to target the neck.

But the victim had been unusually short.

It pierced straight through his face, killing him instantly.

“How many damn traps did she lay?! That cowardly bitch! And you still call yourself a righteous sect’s woman?!”

Had they died in direct combat, it wouldn’t have made them this angry.

But they were suffering losses before even laying eyes on Ximen Qing.

Wasn’t this all just meaningless, stupid death?

A fierce shout, imbued with the internal energy of a master in the Transformation Realm.

Even Qing, who lay in wait atop a distant tree, caught it with her extraordinary hearing.

Why is it that bastards like that always cry out for “righteous heroes” every time something goes wrong?

So they get to use underhanded, dirty tricks because they’re villains—

But righteous martial artists must fight honorably, get themselves killed, and never retreat, even if it’s idiotic?

What, did they patent traps, ambushes, and sneak attacks?

In any case, the Green Forest’s Pursuit-and-Kill Squad was suffering.

There were traps of all kinds strewn across the place.

Some were so massive that it was hard to imagine how a woman’s delicate strength had set them up.

Things like massive logs or boulders collapsing, or pits dug deeper than one jang (10 feet).

Of course, if you asked Qing how she managed to set them up, she’d probably say: with great strength—and boredom.

Still, Do Usam didn’t feel too threatened.

Only nobodies fell for traps like these.

The real fighters, mixed into each pursuit team, wouldn’t be caught by such petty tricks.

So all he had to do was find her position and push in.

Do Usam urged the dog handler.

“Are we not there yet?”

“Well, um... I don’t know why he can’t catch the direction. Victory! Where are we?!”

The dog called Victory sniffed here and there, ears twitching in every direction, spinning around in circles.

“What the—this dumb mutt! Why the hell can’t you find her?!”

Victory just whined helplessly in response.

****

A dog handler from Pursuit Squad Seventeen chased after the hound.

A hunting dog from Bobongchae finally took off with purpose, having picked up the trained trail of the Chujonghyang scent.

And it led them to... a yellow mutt.

Qing had named it Hwangsam.

But since the syllables Hwanggu and Hwangsa sounded too alike, she kept calling it by something else every time.

Two dogs met and immediately tangled together in excitement, happy to see each other.

Woof woof! Woof woof!

“Haah—where the hell...? Eh? Isn’t that Yeondu? Where’ve you been all this time?!”

Panting heavily, Yeondu rushed toward his handler, licking his face and wrapping his paws around his shoulders like it’d been forever.

One of the officers dispatched from Liangshan to assist the Pursuit Squad clicked his tongue, scowling.

“I said find the enemy, not play fetch with a dog.”

“No, sir, this is one of the missing ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) dogs. It just came back, that’s all.”

“Who gives a shit—just find Ximen Qing already.”

“Yes, sir. Alright! Chorok, Yeondu, track!”

The dog handler waved a cloth soaked in Chujonghyang under the dogs’ noses to reactivate their training.

But Chorok only looked at Yeondu.

And Yeondu, perhaps having forgotten everything in just a few days, simply panted and stared back like, What are you doing?

“What the hell? You little shits—are you defying me?!”

****

Qing was drenched in Chujonghyang.

Had she been alone, that would’ve made her easy to track.

But the issue was that she’d spent all her time rolling around, eating, and sleeping with twenty-one dog and wolf-like animals.

Her back was so covered in shed fur, it looked like she was wearing a worn-out fur coat.

No wonder.

To the dogs’ noses, the entire forest now smelled like Chujonghyang.

So when the dog handlers followed the trail, they’d end up running into a missing dog, or a pack of wolves that saw humans and bolted, or perhaps the reunion of a dog with its long-lost master—or some other random pursuit team altogether.

And then there was Pursuit Squad Forty-Seven.

You could tell a squad’s strength by the number attached to it.

The higher the number, the weaker the squad.

Especially if the number was over forty—you were looking at second-rate martial artists, the kind where even the leader barely qualified as a martial man.

And so, when Pursuit Squad Forty-Seven followed the dog into a clearing...

What they found was carnage.

“Ugh... Blegh!”

There weren’t even any complete corpses.

Bits of flesh torn apart were scattered all around, some even stuck up in the trees.

The members of Squad Forty-Seven couldn’t help but retch at the gruesome, nauseating sight.

Cough.

That was when they heard it—a strained cough from somewhere nearby.

The squad leader quickly followed the sound.

Cough.

“There’s a survivor! Hey! Stay with me! What squad are you from?!”

Unfortunately, judging by his condition, he wouldn’t be a survivor for long.

“Guh... We’re... Squad Forty-One.”

“Right, Forty-One. What the hell happened—was it Ximen Qing? She did this, didn’t she?!”

“No... it wasn’t her...”

The survivor forced the words out with great effort.

“If it wasn’t her, then who?! Don’t tell me that bitch had a partner—”

“No... that’s not it...”

The man coughed again.

Blood mixed with shredded organs dribbled from his mouth. He could feel death looming.

Only at the brink of death did the thought occur to him:

If I’d known it would end like this... maybe I should’ve lived better.

Maybe I shouldn’t have been a bandit.

Maybe if I’d lived right, I wouldn’t be dying like this, so meaninglessly.

So in his final moments, he mustered everything he had to warn the others.

“A bear... A bear showed up...”