Chapter 398: There’s One Restaurant on the Plain Hill, and Two Hammers (5)

There was no need for patrols today, so she had been told to gather at Jinseong Hall, the east wing of the manor, at jeongsi—ten in the morning.

By the time Jin Seol stepped into Jinseong Hall—or rather, even before stepping in—she could already hear the clamor of family voices echoing loudly from within.

Somehow, it felt like a sound she hadn’t heard in a very long time.

Without realizing it, Jin Seol’s lips curved into a faint smile, and she quickened her pace.

And so, just in front of Jinseong Hall—

What first caught the eye was a long canopy made of cloth, with one large character written on each piece, stitched together in a row.

First Ever Jin Family Manor Restoration Competition

But before she could even process the content, her eyes were drawn to the sheer grandeur of the calligraphy.

She didn’t know much about calligraphy, but it was unlike anything she’d ever seen—so... how to describe it? So orderly, powerful, tightly packed, and square—it exuded majesty.

Then it hit her. The fact that such precious calligraphy was written on such a shabby, frayed old cloth startled her all over again.

Truly, such noble script on something this disgraceful?

It was obviously lettering worth its weight in gold, so why waste it on that?

“Ah! Miss Jin, you’re here!”

“Miss Ximen? No—what are you wearing!?”

Jin Seol’s astonishment doubled, and then turned to horror.

Members of the Yongbong Society often joked that since the Lily Faction had nothing else going for them, they went around baring cleavage. But in truth, no female disciple in orthodox Martial World dressed as impeccably as Jin Seol.

In fact, her fellow Lily Faction members were all fashion aficionados—that was the whole point of the club.

“Earthwork Immortal Lady! What do you think? Do I look like a shaman?”

“What is this monstrous getup? You can’t be wearing this! You just can’t! This is completely, utterly unacceptable!”

“Ah? Why not?”

“No woman should wear seven colors at once! That’s something only kids under ten can do! Miss Ximen, what are you, a child? Are you going around in rainbow hanbok now!?”

“Oh? That’s not illegal, is it?”

“Etiquette! Clothing is etiquette! My god! How could you! And it’s all fluttery! I mean, really—kyaaaah! What is that seam—why is it one giant piece!? As if your chest wasn’t big enough already!”

Jin Seol was practically spitting fire.

“Mm. Calm down.”

“Do I look calm!? This isn’t clothing—it’s—it’s what, what even is this!?”

“Uhhh... a shrine maiden outfit?”

“Miss Ximen, you’ve never even seen a shrine maiden, have you!? And what’s that thing you’ve draped over yourself? You catching bees? Going to harvest honey? And what’s with all the talismans, I mean—ugh.”

Jin Seol yanked off Qing’s face veil and pulled it upward.

And with that—bam! Her beauty popped out. Boom! Her face sparkled.

Jin Seol was momentarily speechless.

They say a face makes the outfit, and even in this completely absurd, the worst, most outrageous getup—she somehow made it look good.

“Hehe.”

A shy smile spread across Qing’s face.

That sheepish grin conveyed just one message:

—I honestly have no idea what the problem is.

Jin Seol let out a deep sigh.

“Haaah. You’ve been walking around like this the whole time? I can’t live like this. I’ll make you a proper outfit myself. This won’t do. It really won’t.”

“I don’t have many days left to appear as the Earthwork Immortal Lady anyway. It’s not necessary.”

“Even for one day, it’s not okay. I’ll stay up all night if I have to and make you something proper. This ridiculous outfit... ugh, the worst part is how neatly it’s sewn...”

“Hehe. I am pretty good with my hands.”

“Don’t smile. Hmph. Anyway, what is all this? A Jin Family Manor Restoration Competition?”

At that, Qing grinned mischievously.

“Time to fix the house, right? Oh, by the way, Miss Jin, do you prefer the North Star or the Southern Poison Flower?”

Jin Seol’s expression turned bizarre.

North Star versus Southern Poison Flower?

The North Star was a major northern constellation, but the Southern Poison Flower—“Heavenly Southern Star”—used the character for star, yet referred to a flower, a cursed and ominous poisonous plant.

How could she be asked to choose between two completely unrelated things?

What kind of nonsense—

Qing didn’t give her time to think.

“Alright. You have five seconds to answer. One. Two. Three—”

“North Star. North Star, I’ll go with the North Star.”

“Wrong~. Unfortunately, the North Star team is already full. Miss Jin, you’re on the Southern Poison Flower team.”

“...Then why did you even ask?”

“There were people waiting with anticipation? Congratulations! Southern Poison Flower Team—applause!”

A few of the Jin family members already present gave polite, slightly crooked smiles as they clapped.

“What is even going on here?”

“Oh. It’s a reconstruction contest. We split into North and South teams, and we’ll compete based on time, craftsmanship, and artistic points. The North team is the North Star team. The South team is the Southern Poison Flower team.”

“Alright, here’s your armband. Perfect fit. Miss Jin, you’re the team leader.”

“Me?”

“Isn’t it a perfect match? The clan lord is an orthodox giant of Murim, so he leads the North Star team. And you, the Flower of Murim’s Five Beauties—you’re perfect as the leader of the Southern Poison Flower team.”

“Then doesn’t that make me the poisonous flower?”

The Southern Poison Flower was a deadly plant known for its cursed appearance and ominous color.

“Eh, don’t sweat the small stuff. Now then! Let the First Jin Family Manor Restoration Competition begin! Applause!”

Clap clap clap—a limp round of applause echoed, half-hearted at best.

They stripped away the bricks and removed the outer cladding, peeled off the jade tiles laid into the floor, and on one side, the two teams were mixing lime and ash to prepare mortar.

Once they tore up the floorboards, black rot-stained traces emerged from the wooden subfloor beneath.

It wasn’t merely bloodstains—it was the melted-down residue of rotted flesh, soaked deep into the wood, far worse than blood.

No wonder the stench of death still lingered.

So, they carefully sawed through the joints, removed the ruined lumber, scraped out the rotten soil from the foundation, and laid down fresh dirt.

The people of the Jin Family Manor may have been warriors, but they were still martial artists.Which meant, physically speaking, they were a highly capable labor force.

People tend to find joy in new experiences, and if the body doesn’t ache too much, even more so.

Above all else, shared labor becomes shared joy.

“I was out patrolling Harmony Hall, and wouldn’t you know it, they’re just talking shit out in the open now. ‘If you can’t manage the estate, why not sell it and leave?’ I swear, I wanted to roar at them right then and there—how dare you speak the Jin name in broad daylight like that.”

“You let that go?”

“What are we supposed to do? They’re ignorant commoners. If I made a scene, I’d just look ridiculous.”

“Tch. People these days...”

They’d all been so busy with their own patrol schedules that there hadn’t even been time to sit down and talk face to face.

So now, while prying up bricks and kneading lime, carrying beams and locking frames, they finally had the chance to chatter away, full of excitement only they understood.

They worked for hours, and before they knew it, the afternoon was slipping into evening.It was long past lunchtime, and naturally, everyone was getting hungry.

So at last, the women, children, and elders of the Jin family, who weren’t part of the labor force, brought out food on squat floor tables for a mid-day snack.

Just simple fare—sticky rice, stir-fried vegetables, some dried fish fried and tossed as side dishes, and a giant bowl filled to the brim with warm hwangju.

Was this a meal table or a drinking table?

Hwangju was sweet, and liquor after labor tasted even sweeter.

There’s something about shedding formal attire that makes people strangely unguarded.

So, covered in stone dust and grime, Jin family nobles—who usually carried themselves with great decorum—just plopped down on the bare ground and downed that warm liquor in a single gulp.

“Kyaaah. Was this always such good booze? I never used to touch hwangju.”

“Maybe it’s the cold weather? My body feels like it’s stretching out like taffy.”

The scene looked more like a fall military construction drill.

They’d mostly been joking around instead of truly working, but since they were martial artists with internal energy, their hands never really stopped moving, so progress wasn’t bad.

And when someone spotted an old doodle, they’d all swarm over, guessing who drew it, remembering the kid, sharing one-liners of fond remembrance before shuffling off again.

Frankly, if Qing had done it alone, she probably would’ve gotten even more done.

“Uncle, is that good?”

“Why are you pestering your uncle? Go steal some from your dad over there.”

“Come now, how much could the kid drink anyway? It’s an adult’s duty to teach proper drinking. I failed to teach my own son, so let me pass a little wisdom to my niece.”

And just like that, a cup of hwangju was passed to Jinchu, the ten-year-old youngest of the Jin clan.

Under the amused, expectant gazes of the adults, the little lady downed it with surprising determination—after finishing off a bowl of rice, she wiped her lips and gave her review:

“Tasty.”

A great tree always shows promise even in sapling form.

Perhaps a future drinking legend had just been born.

Seeing the ten-year-old little lady wobble, face red like a radish, everyone burst into laughter, calling out, “Come here, Achu! Achu, over here!”

“Alright, alright. It’s cold out—time for the second half! Let’s see, how far has the North Star team stacked their bricks? Forty tiers already? Oh. The Poison Flower team—ah, right, Southern Poison Flower—y’all better step it up. At this rate you won’t get the ears done by sundown.”

After nearly an hour of fooling around, the construction resumed.

From the beginning, the building was just a small annex, so once it had been stripped down to its bones, redoing both the interior and exterior wasn’t such a laborious task.

Before long, the sun had set, and the bricks were nearly finished.

Qing was up on the roof hammering away, attaching newly framed planks.

Gripping her eight-geun royal hammer just under the head, every strike she delivered drove a nail flush in a single blow.

This was the very trick that sent the carpenters of Guangzhou trembling: one-strike annihilation—a single blow that made the nail vanish.

Of course, since everyone else was clueless about carpentry, they didn’t realize just how extraordinary her skill was.

When Qing reached out her hand, another pale, slender one handed her a spike—not quite as elegant as Qing’s, but still beautiful.

A woman’s appearance might be a matter of taste, but when it came to hands, there were no such debates: they had to be pale, slim, long, and graceful to be called pretty.

In that sense, Qing’s hands were the most wicked, and at the same time, the most beautiful demonic tools in existence.

Even if Jin Seol’s hands didn’t quite measure up, the fact that they could even be compared to Qing’s was something to be grateful for.

And then, along with the nail, came a soft voice.

“Thank you.”

“Eh? For what?”

“This whole event—it was all your idea, wasn’t it? Lunch too. Was this like... a commoner experience project?”

“Aw, it’s not a big deal.”

Jin Seol looked at Qing.

That radiant skin, glowing even under the sunset—the face was truly beautiful.

“I suppose I shouldn’t have refused the Murim Alliance’s help. When sad, wounded people gather, we can’t help but remain sad and wounded. I’m really glad you came, Miss Ximen.”

As she said this, Jin Seol looked around the manor, bathed in golden dusk, where her family was still tipsy and rowdy.

It was a sight that made her mouth loosen into an unintentional smile.

“It’s been so long since it’s been this loud.”

“Then maybe... isn’t it time to send a letter? The guest hall can be restored pretty quickly.”

“Dad—I mean...”

Jin Seol flushed red.

Apparently, Miss Jin still called the clan lord “Dad.”

Qing quietly absorbed this meaningless bit of information.

“I want to speak to Father. Honestly, when I realized the unorthodox sects were interfering, I should’ve asked for help right away. But the situation was so grim, so shameful to show to others... I just kept enduring it. I should’ve done more. I was pathetic.”

She bit her pretty lip.

Qing said nothing. Instead, she held out her hand.

Jin Seol hesitated for a moment... then gently reached out and grasped it, squeezing tight.

Qing’s hands were cold—so anyone else’s touch always felt warm.

Feeling the heat of that palm, Qing quietly pulled her hand back and said:

“I meant the nail, not your hand...”

The First Jin Family Manor Restoration Competition ended in victory for the North Star Team.

Well, at least the work was completed before nightfall, so both teams received equal points for speed.

There were no flaws in construction, so the craftsmanship score was tied as well.

No one was injured, so the safety score—or rather, the “Safety Like” score (everyone wondered why it wasn’t just “Safety” score)—was also tied.

And so, the deciding factor came down to the height of the ears.

It’s a decorative element unique to Guangdong-style houses—brickwork stacked high at the front and back edges of the roof, shaped to resemble ears for a refined finish.

It’s called the huayi (鑊耳) style, using the characters for “pot” and “ear”—because it looks both like pot handles and like ears.

The carpenters said it helped keep homes cooler in summer, so there must be some kind of scientific principle behind it.

Qing had no interest in analyzing it scientifically—if that’s what the ancestors of the Central Plains believed, then so be it.

They weren’t her ancestors, but still, ancient wisdom is ancient wisdom.

The North Star Team had stacked their huayi about five tiers higher.

Thanks to that, they received high “Momentum and Morale” points and took the win.

Poor Jinseong Hall ended up with lopsided ears.

“Come on, how does that even count? Just because the ears are taller?”

“Wasn’t there some special bonus score from the clan lord or something?” (Even the normally dignified Jin clan lord’s eyebrow twitched at this one.)

There was a bit of debate over the fairness of the judging.

But, well—it was just for fun, and no one took it too seriously.

...Or at least, that was Qing’s personal view.

It turned out she had underestimated Murim people’s competitiveness.

And thanks to that, in the Second Restoration Competition, Jin Family Manor’s ears would end up being the Donkey Ears—not the King’s Ears.

But Qing didn’t know that yet.

After the work was done, the leftover materials were dumped in a pile beside the front gate of the Jin family manor, and a sign was posted:

“The wood is contaminated and only usable as firewood—waste lumber. The bricks are discarded because washing them would be a hassle. The Earthwork Immortal Lady has purified them with divine energy. Will be removed in ten days.”

This was a standard method of handling leftover materials in the Central Plains, and the meaning was clear:

“If you want firewood, take it.

If you’re willing to wash the bricks and reuse them, take those too.

Grossed out? Don’t worry, the shaman purified them.

If you don’t take them, they’ll be trashed in ten days.”

So passing commoners, excited by the announcement, began hauling off whatever they could carry.

Truly a win-win, low-waste, environmentally friendly form of architecture.

And just like that, the rumor spread throughout the entire city of Guangzhou:

“That divine carpenter girl is the real deal.

She’s even laid hands on the cursed Jin family manor.”

Some claimed she served General Xiang Yu.

Well, if she served that brute, sure, she might be strong—but when it came to curses? That was more uncertain.

So the whispers began.

“How long do you think the Earthwork Immortal Lady can hold out... against the curse of the Jin Family Manor?”