Chapter 404: There’s One Restaurant on the Plain Hill, and Two Hammers (11)

Defeat is a bitter thing.

The people of the Jin Family had used that pain to prepare for the next battle—grinding their blades in silence.

And today, the time had come to repay that humiliation.

The Second Jin Family Manor Restoration Contest!

The Southern Poison Flower team, led by Jin Seol and her comrades, had been waiting for this day.

They secretly gathered to practice carrying and stacking bricks. They even came up with a decent-sounding strategy: assign as few people as possible to internal repairs, and focus all their energy on scoring artistic points.

Hard work rarely betrays.

(Though sometimes, it absolutely does.)

And the result of all that?

Behold! This grand, majestic piece of art!

“Miss, what is this?!”

Qing made a face like she’d just chewed bitterwood.

Sot’ae—bitterwood bark in Central Plains dialect. Just like the hanja implies, it’s a tree so bitter that flies flee from it (since their legs have taste receptors).

It’s neither a seasoning nor a medicine. Just a goddamn bitter tree.

So imagine the look of someone chewing the world’s most bitter bark.

Qing, scowling as hard as humanly possible, glared at the rooftop ears—an architectural feature unique to Guangzhou.

Last time, the North Star team stacked their ears a few levels taller and got the judge’s nod, so this time the Southern Poison Flower team had clearly decided to go all out and build a freakin’ tower.

The basic design: a big circle in the middle with two small circles on each side. (oOo)

Now imagine stacking the central circle as a giant elongated oval—really, really tall.

What do you think that looks like?

“I mean, didn’t anyone feel something was wrong while stacking this?! What is this?! Is this supposed to be an ear?! Who would ever look at this and think—it’s just, Miss! What are we supposed to do with this now?!”

Qing barely swallowed down the word “c**k” that had jumped up to the tip of her tongue.

You couldn’t say “this looks like a dick” with the elders around, could you?

But even if she had said it out loud, it wouldn’t have made a difference.

Because every single contestant in the restoration contest was thinking the exact same thing.

Hmm. Now that it’s up this high, doesn’t it kinda look like a dick?

Yeah, and not just any dick—a really angry one.

The ladies of the Jin Family stared at the massive phallic structure with a mix of embarrassment and morbid curiosity.

The kids couldn’t stop giggling.

“Well, I mean... we just kept stacking, and...”

“You just kept stacking? Are you a kid, Miss Jin? What kind of house looks like this? What do you think guests are gonna say?! ‘Oh my, the guesthouse sure looks like a dick. Wonder what that’s supposed to mean—are they offering me the penis suite or something?!’”

Qing was spitting fire now.

It wasn’t even her house, but as the chief carpenter in charge of construction, her professional pride was on the line.

“Pfft—no, but really—”

Jin Seol bowed her head.

But it wasn’t from shame, and Qing’s eyebrow twitched dangerously.

“Don’t be too angry. Hm... Maybe it’s time to rename the guest quarters. Phallus Hall—no, wait—something more elegant... how about Central Tower?”

Apparently feeling sorry for her embarrassed daughter, the Head of the Jin Family chuckled and tried to shift the mood.

But like father, like daughter.

There was another towering brick shaft on the opposite end of the building—forming a perfect pair of massive symmetrical cannons.

Twin barrels pointed straight at the stars.

“How about Central Hall? Could the Heavenly Flower Sword write the nameplate... Hmm, it’s been a while since I did one of those. Where did I put my giant brush...”

Seeing Qing’s face, the Jin Patriarch turned his body as if nothing had happened.

“Miss, I give up. This isn’t even my house, it’s Miss Jin’s. And if the homeowner says she loves it, well—just don’t go around telling people I built it, alright? Ugh, I’m starving. Let’s go eat.”

Qing tossed aside her hammer like she was done with the whole thing.

The people of the Jin Manor hesitated, glancing back and forth between Jin Jakang and Jin Seol.

Qing snorted through her nose at the sight, and at last, Jin Seol spoke up hesitantly.

“Lady Ximen... so, who’s the winner...?”

“Winner? What winner?! You two ripped each other to shreds and the guesthouse is the only casualty! If we really have to name a winner—then I guess it’s the brick merchant, because we’ll need to buy more bricks now!”

One loss for North Star, two losses for Southern Poison Flower.

And an unexpected victory for the brick guy.

Jin Seol slumped her shoulders.

But she still had to get in the last word.

“Um... Lady Ximen. Judging by the situation, isn’t this more mutual destruction than ‘discarding the dog after the hunt’—”

“Same damn thing! Just learn how to assign your people properly next time!”

Qing screamed.

And so, Qing herself also racked up one defeat.

A day when everyone walked away a loser.

****

Qing was never the sulking type.

So after venting her rage by devouring food, she quickly calmed down—though, well, that still pissed her off every time she saw it.

What, they think architecture is a joke?

Anyway, she was getting ready to return to the Divine Shrine of Earth and Beauty.

But when she tried to change her clothes, her stomach was too bloated, and she couldn’t button them up.

Clothing, after all, is beautiful in proportion to how uncomfortable it is.

Jin Seol’s finalized shrine maiden outfit, redesigned with full effort, was already tight on Qing even when she was hungry.

Now it clung to her body and emphasized her slim waist to the extreme.

“Miss Jin? Um... it won’t fit...”

“What the—?! Wait, what’s with this stomach?!”

“Well, I mean... the source of her ultimate martial arts?”

“Who even eats that much in one sitting?! Clothes are weapons for a woman! Does Lady Ximen go into battle without her sword?! How could you—!”

Now it was Jin Seol’s turn to erupt in flames.

Everyone has a reverse scale.

If Qing had her carpenter’s pride, then Jin Seol—(in her mind) the trendsetter of the Central Plains—took great pride in being the best designer of clothes and fabrics.

Well, maybe not all of Central Plains, but at least the Dragon-Phoenix Meeting.

So her pride wasn’t exactly misplaced.

She stayed up all night sewing this outfit, only for Qing to eat so much she couldn’t wear it?

Qing gave a sheepish laugh, trying to gloss it over.

“Uh... I mean, sometimes I do go out without my sword...”

“What?!”

Jin Seol’s eyes turned sharp like an axe blade.

Qing flinched with an “eek.”

All she’d done was speak the truth.

But the truth always gets oppressed, doesn’t it?

Fortunately, belts in the Central Plains came in all shapes and thicknesses.

There were even kinds that wrapped broadly from under the ribs down to the hips—essentially like the shapewear of Qing’s homeland.

With one of those, she managed to cover up the unbuttoned disaster and avoid a scandal of exposed flesh.

And so, Qing returned to the front of the Divine Shrine of Earth and Beauty.

Only to find... a massive crowd lined up along the villa walls?

Of course, the theory that the One-Eyed Handsome Hero (as the vegetable vendor kid swore) was behind the incident still only had a few believers.

Most people in Guangzhou didn’t believe the greengrocer girl’s claim that a one-eyed young man had taken down the Golden Talisman Guild.

Even if it was a “guild.”

See, in truth, groups like Golden Talisman “Guilds” were more like occupational unions or associations of local powers.

In Qing’s homeland terms, you could call it a kind of trade association headquarters.

Though, more than a “headquarters,” the manor building represented the guild’s pride—opulently built and housing its affiliated martial artists.

And moneylenders were always extra paranoid about their own safety.

Their executives had taken their elite guards to protect their homes and businesses—leaving the manor practically empty at night.

Even so, how could a guy in his mid-to-late twenties do all that alone?

Especially a one-eyed guy.

When someone’s missing one eye, it throws off depth perception—people tend to lean toward their good side.

One-armed, one-legged, or one-eyed warriors may look cool, but when it comes to actual strength?

They just look cool.

So, clearly, the massacre at the Golden Talisman Guild had to be the result of a curse.

That was the logical, culturally literate assumption in the Central Plains.

And then came her—the one who dispelled that dreadful curse.

A true shrine maiden. No, a divine lady.

In a world overrun by fake shamans, a real one like this was a priceless treasure.

Everyone had heard rumors of a real one, but no one had ever seen one.

And thus, a massive line had formed in front of the Divine Shrine of Earth and Beauty.

Qing was flabbergasted.

What the hell is this? What is this, some hot new restaurant?

“Divine Lady! My wife is about to give birth—please, just one talisman for a healthy son!”

“My child is preparing for the civil exams—please, one miraculous talisman...”

“Oh dear, Divine Lady, our household is cursed! My first, second, and third have all fallen ill one after another! I beg you—one ritual, just one, could save lives!”

“My son’s getting married, but the bride’s a widow. Can you check if she’s some husband-eating monster? Please?”

“Ahem. I’m about to build a new villa. I hear the Earthwork Divine Lady is very auspicious. I’ll pay you top industry rates.”

Etcetera.

In the Central Plains, even a single storefront opening called for a full ancestral rite.

Now that a real shrine maiden had shown up, the whole city had come to ask for blessings.

Rituals, architecture, fortune-telling, astrology, future readings—their pleas rang out.

Qing quickly grasped the situation.

Being a shaman... might be kind of fun?

But at this rate, she’d be doing nothing but shaman work the whole time she was in Guangzhou.

And it wasn’t even something she could learn.

Carpentry had been fun.

Being a physician was rewarding—it saved lives.

But being a shaman? That was just comforting people and taking their money. A glorified religious job.

“What is the meaning of this?! Why are you making such a ruckus in front of the shrine?! Begone at once!”

But the people only looked around sheepishly. None of them budged.

Then—

“Eonni! It’s you, right!?”

“Huh?”

Qing turned at the sound of that familiar voice.

Well—it wasn’t the voice so much as the word eonni that made her snap her head around.

Gyeon Pohui’s voice wasn’t particularly distinctive, and who knew how long it had been since Qing last heard it?

More than the voice—it was the unfiltered joy, the laughing undertone, the 150% enthusiasm that could only belong to one person.

“Ah? Eonni? Eonni!”

Qing’s voice, too, softened with joy.

A veiled woman standing in the distance suddenly dashed forward at Qing’s reply.

Qing opened her arms wide in welcome.

A hurried embrace pulled her in tight.

Qing hugged Gyeon Pohui just as tightly.

But... wait? What?

Qing blinked.

Something curved around the backs of her knees, and suddenly, she was lifted into the air.

“Eh? Eonni?”

“Your legs are weak, remember? It feels nice holding you like this. Now that I’m here, you don’t have to walk anymore.”

“Weak legs? Me?”

Qing, who could outrun the wind with lightness skill, and whose body defied humanity itself, with steel arms and legs and forearms that could withstand sword auras—

And yet...

Maybe it’s just been a while...

But this feels... really comfortable...

“Well, if you say so, eonni. But what brings you all the way here? Don’t tell me Grandpa sent you on an errand to Guangzhou? Wait, is this business? Seriously, what’s he trying to expand the firm into now, that he’d send someone all the way to Guangzhou—?”

“Huh? Nah. I just missed you. Oh, right—I came with my nephew. He went off to do something for a bit. Have you seen him already?”

Qing’s eyes widened.

“Wait, nephew? You have a nephew? I mean, if he’s old enough to go off on his own, then... wait, were you a mom when we first met? Who’s the dad? Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Gyeon Pohui tilted her head.

“Mom? I’m not the mom. And you know who the dad is. I don’t.”

“...I know?”

“Yeah. He’s your nephew.”

“...Right. Nephew. But... why?”

What’s happening.

How did this conversation go so far off the rails?

Ah. Is Gyeon Pohui being Gyeon Pohui again?

Do I just... accept it because she’s my eonni?

“So, how old is he, then? If he can wander around on his own, he must be ten? Eleven?”

“Oh, that I know. He’s fifty this year.”

“...?”

What?

A conversation is supposed to go back and forth, right?

Can we even call this a conversation?

A few words into a Gyeon Pohui reunion, and Qing already felt dizzy and dazed.

Then again... my eonni’s always been a little like this.

But what can I do? She’s mine.

I’ll just... love her.

“Hey, eonni, listen—”

It was at that moment.

A thunderous voice cut Qing off!

“Mother!! Your good son has returned!!”

And...