Chapter 430: Journey to Taewon (1)

The inside of the carriage was nothing short of lavish.

The woodwork was finished to perfection, without the tiniest splinter or imperfection, each joint fitted so precisely that not even a coin could slip between them.

There was even a brazier mounted on the wall — an extravagant feature that ignored the very premise of a carriage, where one was expected to endure heat or cold as it came.

One wall held a spacious seat, somewhere between a chair and a bed, draped with translucent gauze.

Lounging there with a lazy, vaguely bored look, one figure had her hand shoved into the bosom of the woman at her side, kneading away without pause.

“Are you wondering how much longer you have to grope before something bursts? Cease your harassment of Elder-Sister Yi. Someone might see you, Heavenly Flower Sword.”

“Hm? I’m fine with it.”

“You are a problem as well. Do you feel no shame doing this in front of an outsider? Why do you so naturally offer up your breasts? This is highly inappropriate in the presence of others.”

“But... I’m her unni. Isn’t it fine if I let my little sister touch my chest?”

“Rangrang cannot comprehend this. You claim that a younger sister fondling her elder sister’s breasts is natural?”

“Honestly, I don’t know! I didn’t have a sister before Pohee, so... but shouldn’t I let my sister do whatever she wants?”

“You are entirely unreasonable. You’re a formidable opponent in your own way.”

“Yup. Of course! I’m a master now, after all.”

“That is not what I meant. Honestly...”

Rangrang ran both palms down her face.

Qing, unconcerned, simply pressed and poked at the soft flesh that fit so well in her hand, gently stroking, opening her fingers wide to squeeze and then releasing, enjoying the way it filled the spaces between them and shifted beneath her touch.

“Sworn Sister just likes breasts, that’s all.”

“Even if you try to play it off as ordinary, it is a peculiar sight. Ordinary sisters do not fondle each other’s breasts, especially not in public.”

“It’s just... my head’s a bit complicated right now.”

Gyeon Pohee threw in the comment with a kind smile.

Rangrang faltered, then gave up on replying and shook her head.

“This is humiliating. For my insight to be outstripped by someone with such a pure-minded head... Pretending to be stupid and making others feel foolish... I admit, I underestimated you. Heavenly Flower Sword’s groping is an expression of an unstable psychological state. Heavenly Flower Sword, do you agree?”

Qing, who had looked half-asleep, suddenly focused on her.

“Hm? What about?”

“The breasts, of course.”

“Right... breasts. Why do I like them so much? I mean, there are other soft parts — like the inside of the arm, or belly fat.”

“Rangrang cannot follow the thread of this conversation, but it is interesting. Continue.”

“Think about it — breasts differ in size, shape, and feel from person to person. Pohee’s are huge and so soft that it feels like they might slip between your fingers.”

“That was information I did not need.”

“But then you have women with small breasts, right? Their arms or belly might actually be softer... but somehow it’s never as satisfying as breasts.”

“Hm. Fascinating. And?”

“So breasts have a charm that draws you in just by being breasts. I don’t need any other reason to touch Pohee’s.”

“A grand justification. So this groping has nothing to do with emotional instability.”

“Yup. I’m fine. Totally fine. Same as always.”

“...I will leave it at that for now.”

Qing’s assignment lasted until winter.

An extra month had been added unexpectedly in the leap month, but now it was the third month of the lunar year — the beginning of spring.

She had first arrived in the ancient Central Plains in the spring, so this marked the beginning of her sixth year in the martial world.

She was already a near–Flower Realm master who had taken down multiple Flower Realm experts — but still, she was only one late-stage expert.

With the Martial Alliance, the Four Evils Alliance, and the Blood Sect all tangled together, she was not yet in a position to act boldly.

“No words of thanks could be enough for my Heavenly Flower Sword. You are the Jin Family’s savior.”

“Mm... ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) that sounds like a farewell.”

“Well, isn’t it time you returned? Winter is over — you should be going back to your sect.”

“But there are still Blood Sect bastards—”

“The Blood Sect are the sort who vanish the moment something goes wrong. Their scheme’s already in ruins; from here on the Alliance will launch a large-scale investigation.”

“But the Jin Family still hasn’t taken in new disciples—”

Jin Jakang smiled warmly.

“It was your skill that foiled the Blood Sect’s plot. I understand now why the Matriarch praised you so much. To stay quiet with such a disciple would be restraint indeed.”

“Hehe. You flatter me.”

“As a senior of the orthodox sects, I feel ashamed before you. So leave the rest to your elders.”

And indeed — staying in Gwangju any longer would serve no purpose.

The local unorthodox sects had been uprooted completely.

Everyone’s impression now was firmly set: joining the unorthodox brought only ruin.

The Jin Family would have no trouble recruiting disciples.

If she stayed, the only thing worth looking at would be...

well, Miss Jin’s shockingly low-cut outfits.

“I made a few outfits for the Heavenly Flower Sword.”

“Wow. Thank you! You didn’t have to.”

“They say the completion of an outfit is the face, but you... I wonder if you even have a sense for choosing clothes. Especially with a large bust, you already have trouble finding flattering cuts.”

“I don’t think it’s that bad...”

“No, you are the worst dresser I know. Truly criminal.”

Jin Seol’s words left no room for argument.

Qing tried one on.

“Uh... Miss Jin? This... it’s barely different from being naked.”

The skirt was pulled up tight under her ribcage, with a sleeveless vest layered over it — but the vest was sheer, open to the air on top and in back, and only reached down to her sternum.

With her heavy bust, the lower curves were on full display.

This wasn’t stylish — it was exhibitionist.

From below, someone might even see her nipples.

And how was she supposed to run in this?

It would flap right up, turning her into some pervert with her chest bared.

But Jin Seol was perfectly serious.

“They say this summer will be especially hot, and bold styles were already trending last year. They say Young Master Ok Girin has a great interest in décolleté — so the fashion will only get bolder. For someone like you, with a large bust... see? It shows off your waist beautifully.”

They went through several more outfits.

“Miss Jin, isn’t this neckline a bit too low?”

“Did you crawl out of the Warring States period? Even Confucius would say that’s pleasant to look at.”

“Wait, why is there no fabric here at the sternum? There are only two strips left — did I put it on wrong? Inside out?”

“Your bust is prominent enough to create a clear separation. That’s the mark of a beautiful chest. It looks good.”

Every piece made her look like a chronic exhibitionist or someone obsessed with showing off.

“Miss Jin, I don’t think décolleté suits me...”

“The top doesn’t matter. If it bothers you, get another jacket. The real completion of an outfit is in the skirt. But you should still dress up. It’s a shame to waste such a figure.”

Women’s clothing in the Central Plains consisted of yugun skirts paired with other garments — not tops and bottoms like Qing’s homeland.

Skirts could be worn from the shoulders, tied above the chest, wrapped below the bust, at the waist, or over the hips, in all lengths and cuts.

Some fell straight, some pleated and swaying, some full and fluttering, some tightly folded, some fitted to the buttocks.

Jin Seol’s handmade skirts were the most coveted garments in orthodox society — subtle differences that somehow made the wearer’s figure look better.

“I’ll wear them well. Even if the décolleté is a bit much.”

“I’d make more if I had the time, but work’s been busy.”

Qing looked down at the large bundle of clothes she had to carry in both arms.

She’d never sewn clothing herself, but she could tell this had taken every spare moment Jin Seol had.

She almost smiled without realizing it.

“Thank you. I’ll wear them well.”

“I’m the one who’s grateful. For everything.”

Qing read the mood.

Ah — this was a hugging moment.

She spread her arms.

Jin Seol burst into a laugh at the sight, then stepped into her embrace.

On the day of departure, Yeom Hwiyoung sat in the driver’s seat of a six-horse carriage, smugly jerking a thumb over his shoulder.

Where had he even gotten this?

Even the horse stables wouldn’t rent something like it.

But... well, good things are good things.

And so began the journey home.

But the Central Plains was vast.

From Gwangju north through Cheongwon, Yangsan, Yeonju, past Uijang at Hunan’s southernmost tip, to Chimju and Hyeongyang...

When she first left Gwangju, Qing had felt uneasy about leaving the Blood Sect behind.

She kept watch out the window, eyes gleaming, ready to slaughter any she spotted.

But it wasn’t as if they went around with “Blood Sect” written on their faces.

And their communication was far beyond the era — who could imagine a jiangshi that could converse with another far away?

Even their creator didn’t understand how it worked.

So Qing’s killing intent burned hot... but only for a day or two.

Carriage travel might be easy on the legs, but it punishes the rear — unless the carriage is this luxurious, in which case the body relaxes... and idle thoughts creep in.

Her mind wandered:

What makes someone good or bad? What’s the difference between someone good for the public and good for the individual?

Why is it wrong to kill a bad person?

And also... why doesn’t she get tired of fondling her sworn sister’s breasts all day? Was there some addictive substance in them? Would that make them the only government-approved drug?

The ancient statues with enormous chests weren’t made for nothing...

And the carriage rolled on, toward sweet home.