Chapter 455: A Sad Legend, What Kind of Legend Is It? (5)

Cheon Yuhak hadn’t made any weird comments for once.

When Qing stepped out, saying she was going to the latrine—eh? Why was he already waiting in front of it?

Was it that urgent?

That wasn’t the important part.

The important thing right now was—

“How’s the latrine? Is it clean?”

“I wouldn’t know. But over at the Provincial Commander’s quarters, the latrine there was polished so bright it practically shone.”

“Oh. Where’s that? Can I get there quickly?”

Since Qing hadn’t gone in yet, the state of the latrine was unknowable—one could call it a superposition of both cleanliness and filth.

At least until Qing opened the door to make an observation.

Only, since the Central Plains didn’t have any kind of Toilet Association, most of them tended to be truly horrendous.

“Forget the nonsense. Why’d you bring that kid? That’s the same one from under the Blood Sect’s underground, right? Even aside from that, if you’re going to drag along every dog and cow that wants to come, then when we stop by the Martial Alliance, why don’t you just round up everyone you know and form an army.”

“Back then I didn’t know the rumors had spread this far. If I’d known, it would’ve been better to come with the Martial Alliance combat division and search together.”

“Eh. Even so.”

“Hehe. With so many villains crawling all over the city, how could I leave a delicate Profound Realm cultivator all alone? From what I’ve seen, if you’re about as pretty as one of the Five Beauties of the Martial World, there are always bastards who’ll try to fuck you and kill you just for that, whether it’s Murong or anyone else.”

“You brat, what’s this about ‘fucking’? Can’t you speak more decently? No, wait—did you just say you’ve experienced that? There was a bastard like that with you? What kind of grave-robbing piece of shit—”

Telling her to speak decently, and then the very next breath he spits out “grave-robbing bastard.”

For reference, “육시 (yuksi)” means a punishment where the body is dug out of its grave and beheaded.

You might think, what’s the point of killing a dead man again? But anyone who received yuksi would’ve already had their entire clan exterminated.

So it carried the meaning of “your whole surname should be wiped from the earth.”

“Eh, do I look like the kind to let that happen? Anyway, if something’s obviously dangerous, you can’t just turn a blind eye.”

“Tsk tsk. Always too soft-hearted, too gentle. How will you ever survive this brutal martial world?”

Her soft-hearted, gentle disciple (the Heavenly Killing Star, the hedonistic murderer) just gave him a sheepish smile, and Cheon Yuhak had nothing more to say.

“Even a sheet of paper’s easier to lift if two people do it—working together is better, isn’t it? If Jangmyeong and I combine forces, it’s about the worth of one person, I’d say.”

Qing let out a dry chuckle at her own words.

“Or not? With just one First-Class and one Profound Realm combining, that’s still just First-Class plus Profound Realm. Expecting Top-Tier might be a bit much.”

For reference, Qing’s “one serving” was already Top-Tier.

Murong Miss could at least manage a quarter-serving. But Jangmyeong... that one’s the real concern.

Still, putting the two together might add up to... let’s see, a quarter plus a First-Class—maybe three-tenths of a serving? Two-tenths? Something like that.

Anyway, the latrine was disgusting.

Of course, it was that time of day.

Since it was an inn, with people booking rooms upstairs just to drink without worry, after evening passed—yeah.

Wasn’t it an age-old tradition, a cultural habit of the Han people, that one relieved themselves by the roadside?

At moments like this, one could understand why.

****

So the human heart is indeed fickle.

Murong Juhee gave a wry smile.

Seeing Qing had filled her with such relief.

Even more so than being alone in her own room in her own house.

The thorn lodged deep inside, aching constantly, the wound she could never tell anyone about—it felt as though it was healing.

So being given permission to stay by Qing’s side—she couldn’t have been happier.

“Um, excuse me, Lady Seo Mun?”

“Mm? What is it?”

“Well, um... that is...”

“What is it? You have to say it, or I won’t know.”

“I... I mean...”

Murong Juhee’s voice trailed into a whisper.

Her face turned scarlet, and she shook her head, muttering, “No, it’s nothing,” bowing down deeply.

Now that Qing had wiped off her disguise, revealing the Seo Mun Cheong that Murong Juhee had once known, she couldn’t hold back the flood of thoughts.

That voice, still echoing so vividly, twining around her ear in a sweet whisper: “Here, this might sting a little, sting.”

That hand, cold as a snake, and then the burning flame that had pierced straight through bone, muscle, and nerve like a lightning strike.

When those fingernails had tightened, pressing like a bite—

“Miss Murong?”

“Uh, n-no, nothing at all.”

She had promised herself that when they met again she’d confess honestly, she’d beg. But now, face-to-face, how could she possibly open her mouth?

Murong Juhee sat there, red as a boiled shrimp, at a total loss.

Qing looked at her, and then suddenly—

****

And inside Qing’s dantian.

A tiny Qing, dressed only in thick ropes and a sheer veil, her Joyous Qi flailed its little arms and legs with vigor.

Opposite her, a shrunken Qing in black robes patterned with grotesque eyes—her Destructive Demonic Qi—was crouched, clutching her head, being beaten down.

Tears pooled at her eyes even as she croaked out, “Kekek, khhhkkk...”

The Demonic Qi was laughing...

Joyous Qi had nothing to do these days.

Before, when a busty, naïve woman carrying Joyous Qi had been traveling with them, it had been quite fulfilling.

But this little brat here, no matter how much she tried to twist her killing intent into lust and tempt her, all she got in return was, “A baby must be protected.”

That solid wall of defense meant no progress was possible.

So pent-up lust became poison.

Joyous Qi had no work, no motivation, and slumped about in a funk.

But that grating laugh—

Why couldn’t that moldy, foul miasma just shut up? Maybe beating it harder would do?

So she had made a hobby out of thrashing the Demonic Qi.

Then, the door of the dantian burst open, and the other qi that had been visiting the upper dantian rushed in.

Panting, leaning hands on knees, they seemed out of breath—only to dash right back out again.

At the lead ran the Muscle-Reversing Qi, draped in a Shaolin kasaya hanging off one shoulder.

Behind, decked out in all sorts of Indian-style jewels, riding in a palanquin, came Prajñā Qi.

Joyous Qi tilted her head in confusion.

If she was riding in a palanquin, why was she panting?

With Joyous Qi idle, the Daoist and Buddhist qi had changed strategies.

If her lust couldn’t be stopped, then better to redirect it by slaying evildoers.

So the Daoist qi protected her mind, while the two Buddhist qi, with their creed—“If I don’t go to hell, who will?”—were actively inciting her killing intent.

Then Joyous Qi tilted her head again.

Wait—whose idea was this strategy?

At that moment, her ears perked. Her nose sniffed.

This sensation! The sound of lewdness! The smell of lust!

Finally, work to do!

By nature, qi was never meant to stop flowing.

In other words, they were extreme workaholics.

The reason the other qi kept beating on the Demonic Qi was exactly that.

It just sat there in the dantian like mold, stagnant and unmoving.

So from their perspective, why was it even taking up space if it wasn’t going to flow?

Joyous Qi abandoned the Demonic Qi and bolted out.

Left behind alone, the Demonic Qi let out a chuckling sob.

And Moon Maiden Qi, who always only watched in silence, gazed at it quietly.

****

Murong Juhee was still flushed red, helpless.

Qing’s eyes curved slyly, her face taking on a bewitching look.

“Miss Murong? Want to come here?”

“Eh? Y-yes, yes.”

“Answer only once.”

“Y-yes!”

“Uh-uh. Why aren’t you listening?”

Murong Juhee swallowed hard.

She shuffled toward Qing, about to sit beside her—

“Hiiiik!”

Suddenly a strong pull yanked her in, and a firm yet soft cushion beneath her.

She had been pulled straight into Qing’s lap.

Murong Juhee felt overwhelming warmth.

But only for a moment.

Then a whisper hissed at her ear, snake-like, turning her to stone.

“Miss Murong? What were you going to say? If you just trail off like that, I get curious. And if I get curious, how can I sleep? You know what it’s like not to sleep—you suffered too. Shouldn’t I suffer the same?”

“N-no, that’s not it—”

“Shhh. Only answer once. Not twice, not three times. Just once. Understood?”

“Yes.”

She swallowed again. Then opened her mouth—

“Yes.”

“Hmm. You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you? Not going to listen? Why did you become a bad girl? Bad girls need to be punished, don’t they?”

Something cold slipped under her jacket.

A hand gently stroked her belly.

Then the thumb swept just above her navel, wiping slowly upward, and the cool palm climbed her abdomen.

Once, twice, moving higher and higher—

Murong Juhee’s breath caught.

At last the hand reached her solar plexus, Qing’s thumb rubbing gently at the hard bone—

“Hhicck!”

A hiccup burst from her throat.

A soft laugh at her ear.

“Sounding like a squashed frog. Now, which way shall I go? Right? Or left?”

With each word, the thumb brushed right, then left, grazing the area.

“Uh, whichever Lady Seo Mun wants—”

“Tsk. That won’t do. You have to be clear. Do you like the right? Or the left? Say it.”

“Th-then, hicck, uh...”

And then—

The hand slid away.

Murong Juhee’s face turned pained.

“Lady Seo Mun? Hicck. Why, why...?”

“Looks like Jangmyeong’s coming. Miss Murong, you wash first. I like to soak for a long time. If I go in first, that angle’s a given.”

Murong Juhee summoned all the courage she had left.

“T-then, if we wash together—”

“No. You deliberately answered twice earlier, didn’t you? Bad girls wash alone.”

Qing pushed her lightly aside and stretched out on the bed.

Murong Juhee fidgeted, glancing nervously.

Qing broke into a silly giggle.

“Eyy, I was joking. Just joking. What are you, a child? This bath’s so tiny it’s hard enough for even one person to fit. If I go in first, I’ll take forever to come out, so you have to wash first. Besides, once we’re on the mountain tomorrow, who knows when we’ll next get hot water.”

It was Qing in her usual cheerful self.

Only, her eyes looked unusually clear.

So clear, it was almost unsettling.

They woke at dawn, and Qing examined Murong Juhee’s disguise.

“Th-this is...”

Murong Juhee’s voice trembled as she gazed at the Ui-yu padding, the secret treasure of the Divine Thieves.

“What kind of treasure—how could such a divine object exist in this world...!”

She accepted it with the utmost care, kneading it like it was her lover’s chest, terrified it might burst or puncture with the slightest force.

Jin Jangmyeong watched sourly, then asked Cheon Yuhak,

“Why am I the only one dressed as a boy?”

“Heh. Ever heard of ‘innate looks’? If that girl dresses as a boy, anyone would see it’s just a girl dressed up as a boy. That’s suspicious. Might as well not disguise at all.”

In other words, she was too pretty to pull off crossdressing.

Jin Jangmyeong’s forehead vein twitched furiously.

Qing pulled Jangmyeong into her arms.

Jangmyeong’s size was just right—snug and solid.

Pulling her in felt like resting a comfortably heavy piece of flesh across her lap.

“You’re heavy. Get off.”

“I carry this around all the time, don’t I? Can’t my handsome Jangmyeong endure a little?”

Her vein bulged again.

“I’ll be even prettier once I reach Top-Tier.”

“Miss Murong hasn’t had her full transformation either. And you’re still late First-Class, while she’s late Profound Realm—who do you think will reach it first?”

“Unfair. So mean.”

“Heh. If it was all about looks, I’d have left you behind when we first met. Come on, let’s get ready.”

And so, they finished their disguises by morning.

Since the search plan for Mount Lao had shifted, the herbalist disguises didn’t need to be perfect anymore—second-hand clothes, washed well, dirty-looking but without a smell, were enough.

They packed their outfits.

They packed the newly bought straw raincoats.

They stuffed their rice balls for breakfast and lunch, donned their martial robes, and left Jimo.

Now that they had a map, the plan was to follow the northeastern ridge of Mount Lao, climb up to the nearest peak, Cheonwon Peak, and scout from there.

And so, treasure hunt—round two. Start.