Chapter 446: Every Treasure Has a Sad Legend (7)

Thanks to Qing’s delicate handiwork, his leg would move normally—but only up to a point.

Put too much force on it, and the knee would twist and collapse with a sickening crunch.

So then, how would that bastard live from here on out?

Would he live an ordinary life, like an ordinary person?

Or would he spiral into ruin—crippled by hatred, obsessed with an impossible revenge, and become a complete wreck?

Either way, it was deeply satisfying.

Whether by choice or necessity, whether he reformed and lived upright, or whether he could never shake the pain and lived out his days in torment...

The former was beneficial to the world.

The latter was simply retribution for his evil.

That said, he might still go crawling off to his so-called senior brother or whatever sect he belonged to, blabbering about how some “herbalists” disguised themselves, ambushed him, and left him like this—

“Please, get revenge for me, boo-hoo.”

Well. That would be really fucking annoying.

Hm. Maybe I should have just killed him.

But Master was here. And Jangmyeong too.

Eh—whatever. No use fussing over what’s already done.

****

“So, what now?”

“Good grief. You really think this is a vacation?”

“Getting worked up won’t help. You know what they say—yoksokbudal and almyojojang, right?”

Yoksokbudal was from Master Confucius, Almyojojang from Mencius.

Both basically meant the same as Qing’s hometown saying, “the more urgent the matter, the more slowly you should go”—rush things and you’ll just ruin them.

Cheon Yuhak snorted through his nose.

“Hmph. Look at you, quoting idioms after barely flipping through the Hundred Schools once. Though I suppose this is about the time when people can’t stop bragging they’ve learned to read.”

The types who only skimmed the surface always made the biggest show.

In Qing’s hometown, they called it the peak of ignorance—when someone had just barely grasped the basics and was suddenly full of false confidence.

Still, Cheon Yuhak was the Senior Instructor. In Confucian terms, a phoenix. And here was a chirping chick, peeping out four-character idioms like she’d discovered gold.

And the phoenix?

He thought she was adorable!

Ah, look at that little chick! She knows characters!

Could she be a genius? Should we send her to graduate school? Not just a Scholar, but maybe a Doctor Scholar?

Cheon Yuhak couldn’t hide his delighted smile.

“Well. You’re right anyway. What’s the rush? It’s not like the treasure’s going to sprout legs and run off.

Though we don’t exactly have time to waste either.”

“So, what should we start with? I mean, we can’t just go walking around kicking leaves hoping a secret manual falls out of the dirt.”

“The tomb of the Shin clan in Shin City—that’s what they said, right?

In my opinion, we should first be looking for some kind of tombstone or pagoda—something tall and visible. Some prominent terrain.”

Usually, with these Treasure Maps, what they “point to” is actually the direction of the shadow.

If it’s Shin City, then the shadow would probably fall southeast. If there’s a formation or trap involved, the entrance might only appear at the right time when the shadow hits a certain spot—or not.

“So no matter where the tomb is, it’s probably somewhere high up, where it gets a lot of sun. I’d say somewhere along the northern ridge. First, we find that Shin clan tomb.”

“Oooh.”

All that insight packed into just six characters.

Hearing it put a spark in Qing’s chest.

It really was like a treasure hunt. An adventure.

There’s just something instinctively exciting about the idea of hidden treasure, isn’t there?

Even if the event was nothing special, just calling it a “treasure hunt” back in her hometown would make everyone go, ‘I’m gonna find it first!’

And so Qing’s heart pounded.

Somehow, this really might be fun.

****

...or so she thought.

But damn, this mountain was huge.

This wasn’t some school festival with prizes packed into a tight space.

Mountains were vast.

And from down below, trees blocked the view—

Even if there weren’t trees, just the angle made it hard to see what was rising up.

Of course, the tall peaks were all rocky and treeless, offering clear lines of sight—

But that also meant anyone on top would be easily seen.

Why would you sneak into a mountain, then climb onto a bald stone peak for all to see?

So at first, Qing stretched her neck out and scoured the ridgeline with eyes sharper than any normal human’s, trying to spot anything jutting up.

But then—

“Oooh, Jangmyeong, see this? It’s called moktong. According to the Inner Canon of the Yellow Emperor, it cures all wind-related illnesses, even helps with infertility. Especially good for women. So gentle they say even pregnant women can drink it.”

Qing had studied medicine properly, if only briefly.

She didn’t know rare herbs, but she could identify common medicinal plants from the wild.

“What is that? It looks weird.”

“This part’s the flower. And inside here—this little cocoon-looking thing—that’s the fruit. Tastes amazing. Want to try?”

“Yeah. Uh-huh.”

Qing plucked the cocoon-like fruit from between the oddly split petals.

“Here—ah.”

“Aaah—mm? Blegh, pfft, ECHH—!”

Jin Jangmyeong, who had chomped down without fear, began spitting profusely, her face bright red.

Qing burst into laughter at the sight.

Jangmyeong thumped her in the arm, grumbling.

“Ughhh. The bitterness won’t go away!”

“Well, if it tasted good, we’d call it a fruit, not a medicine. Should we dry it?”

“Stop messing around so much.”

“Here, rinse your mouth with this. Master, would you like some too? They’re not exactly sweet, but they’re edible.”

Her palm was suddenly filled with small mountain berries—who knew when she picked them.

“...I told you to pretend to be herbalists. Why are you actually foraging for herbs?”

“Well, they’re right in front of me...”

“They’re in front of you because you’re staring at the ground. I said look for tombstones.”

“But...”

Qing trailed off, eyes drifting toward the tall stone peaks overhead.

Truthfully, Central Plains’ stone mountains were all jagged and pointy.

Every peak looked like a gravestone.

If she went around pointing at each one asking “Maybe that’s it?” her lips would chap from talking.

Too much information was worse than none at all.

Humans can pick out interest easily from small sets—but when the list goes on forever, they just lose interest altogether.

“You think a divine demonic art would be just lying out in the open where it’s easy to spot?

If it were, someone would’ve found it by now and blood would be flooding this place. It wouldn’t have survived long enough for the Treasure Map to blabber to the whole world about Saljungsal being here.”

Qing pouted.

“Then what if the Absorbing Qi Demonic Art manual already got looted? Maybe it’s gone.”

“Ahem. You foolish girl. This is all for the sake of the world. This hardship earns virtue. We’re making the world a better place.”

Though Cheon Yuhak’s face didn’t look thrilled either.

The road ahead was clear, but now that they were actually on Mount Lao, it was obvious: this wasn’t going to be easy.

So they wandered the mountain again, looking for terrain that might be significant.

Lunch was a handful of rice balls. The day passed in exhausted circling.

Eventually, though the sun hadn’t yet set, the sky grew dark.

Thick black clouds brewed, ready to burst into heavy rain.

“We should head back for today. We haven’t even gone deep yet—no sense getting soaked in a storm. Let’s stop here and return.”

The original plan had been to camp in the mountains while searching.

But after just one ridgeline, it was already around the time of yushi.

So they’d save the overnight search for when they went deeper in.

No point drawing attention now—once things became unavoidable, then they’d go full-on.

“More than that, let’s ask some herbalists or mountain folk about the terrain. It’s nastier than I expected.”

“Mm.”

Qing’s expression turned complicated.

Cheon Yuhak frowned.

“What’s that look for? What’s with the attitude?”

“Well... I thought you were a total pro at treasure hunting. Turns out you don’t have much of a plan after all.”

“Hmph! You think Treasure Maps just fall into your lap every day? This is being a pro.

What, you want to keep searching in the rain, camping out?”

“Hehe, no thanks. Ah, it’s starting to drizzle. Let’s go before it pours.

Hey, Jangmyeong, think you can fit in this basket? You’re small—you could totally squeeze in, right?”

“Why?”

“I wanna wash up and eat dinner fast. Little kids have short legs.”

“My legs aren’t short! Everyone says they’re crazy long for my size!”

“I meant objectively. A long-legged sparrow still has short legs. If you’re a stork, even short legs are long.”

A vein popped in Jin Jangmyeong’s forehead.

This wasn’t the kind of sentimental trip she imagined.

All Qing did was tease her relentlessly all day.

Qing giggled at her sulky face—then suddenly bent her knees and picked her up onto her shoulders.

“Exhausted from walking the mountain all day?

Mountains really drain your stamina. Master and I are used to camping outdoors, but you’re not. No need to push yourself.”

“...Mm.”

A gentle voice, melting away the grudge.

Totally cheating.

She knew it was manipulative. Still worked.

“Want to hop in? Whoa, you really do fit. Comfy?”

“Mm. Weirdly comfy.”

“Hope it doesn’t jostle too much. Tell me if it gets bumpy.

Not that I’ll stop.”

“...?”

“Ah! It’s raining! Master, [N O V E L I G H T] let’s go—these drops are massive!”

Cheon Yuhak chuckled and took off running.

When the current and future Divine Thieves sprint with intent, they move like demons.

Even before being named successor, Qing had already been a top-class runner, acknowledged by Seo Mun Surin for her footwork mastery.

Not knowing the terrain, Qing just followed her Master’s back.

Eventually, the trees opened up and the view burst wide.

A heavy breeze, thick with pre-storm humidity, rippled the green fields like waves on the ocean.

Running along the dirt ridges through paddies on both sides—it felt surprisingly cool for late summer, and Qing couldn’t help but smile.

The overcast sky deepened. In the distance, smoke curled from dinner fires.

Her stomach rumbled. Hunger hit all at once.

Right. It was already past dinnertime.

Damn. But this place looked like a fortified village.

Places like this were always stingy with outsiders. Closed-off. Suspicious.

Even if they let you in, there wouldn’t be restaurants.

And Central Plains “home cooking” usually meant a huge pile of rice with pickled, boiled, or fried vegetables.

Unless you handed them silver for a whole chicken or two...

Yeah. A little disappointing.

The village gate loomed ahead.

The buildings formed a wall, with a massive wooden gate set in between—a classic fortress village structure.

Qing started to set Jangmyeong down—

But hearing her calm, even breathing behind her, she just smiled and left her be.

Cheon Yuhak stepped forward and called out.

“Ahem. Excuse me—anyone there?”

Rustle.

No one came out. But the sound woke Jangmyeong.

“Huh? I woke up?”

“Yeah. We’re almost there.”

“Not quite. Take a look. Familiar scenery, isn’t it?”

Jangmyeong shifted inside the basket, her back pressing against Qing’s.

“Ah.”

Back then, when they’d escaped from those whistling assassins, they’d stumbled into a village like this.

They played ghosts to get a meal out of it, as she recalled.

“Even if it was cold rice, it was so good, wasn’t it?”

“Mm. I still think about it sometimes.”

“Wow. That was years ago. Time really flies, huh?”

From a starving girl dunking meatless soup over buns to a wealthy woman overflowing with silver and gold.

Though now that she thought about it, even that felt like ages ago.

Nothing was the same anymore.

Except for Jangmyeong’s height.

Qing drifted into nostalgia—

****

“What, you herbalists?”

A man’s head suddenly popped up over the village gate—or fortress gate? Or wall gate? Whatever you called it.

His evil karma was...?

Qing tilted her head in suspicion.

Meanwhile, Cheon Yuhak gave a shady traveling-merchant smile and replied:

“We were just passing through, but the day’s nearly done and rain clouds are heavy. We were hoping we might trouble you for a night’s stay.”

“That basket looks heavy. Coming back from Mount Lao, are you?

Fine. Come on in.”

...Huh? Isn’t he a little too casual?

No matter how backwater the village, you don’t greet strangers that rudely.

What happened to basic manners?

Maybe a little etiquette education... via concussive force?

As Qing debated internally, the wooden gate groaned open.

And then—

A man stepped out.

His clothes stained fresh with blood, still wet.

He pointed his blade directly at them with a sneer.

“Well, well. I was just looking for a decent mountaineer to use... and here you come, walking right in on your own two feet.”