Chapter 500: Karma Drips Along the Thread of Life and Death (2)

Sweat-soaked skin met open air for the first time in a while, and the feeling was near-pleasure.

But there was no time to savor it.

Eon Yeonyeong’s fingers slid past Qing’s neck to the back of her jaw and—schlrrk!—a small flood of gathered sweat burst out, enough to call it pouring.

Her fingers hesitated.

The long, slender hand that had slipped along Qing’s jaw rubbed thumb against forefinger, slow, as if testing the viscosity of the moisture.

“Goodness. Is this sweat? My word.”

“Hey. Nyonyeong? You’ll stop here, right? I—I was a bit mean, okay, but... right, you’re just teasing me, yeah? I trust you, Nyonyeong. My Nyonyeong won’t go through with it, will you? Right? Ugh, you’re such a brat.”

Qing tried to deny it, hard.

“I did say it, didn’t I? This is for Lady Seo Mun Surin. You keep getting cowardly, so—consider it a lesson. Yes, let’s call it discipline.”

For me? Discipline?

Qing burst—hot, choking fury.

“How is this for me!? That’s all an excuse! And what did I even do so wrong to begin with? Why are you doing this to me? Wanting to wipe a vicious divine art off the face of the world is wrong? I only did what needed doing, didn’t I? What? What did I do so wrong!?”

A memorable tableau: the woman who had sounded so sure of herself blew her top the second her face was about to be shown.

The real Eon Yeonyeong, being impersonated, had every right to rage along with her—but didn’t. She only curved a soft, small smile.

Her fingers went back under Qing’s jaw. She didn’t care that sweat gathered on the ragged Human-Skin Mask and dripped, drip, drip; she parted the edges and reached the tip of Qing’s chin.

“Wait! Wait! Nyonyeong? Th-then... another punishment, maybe? What if I do something for you? Not a public execution that only stirs up wounds and hate. Right. Instead of this venting, can’t you demand a solid price that profits you?”

Qing tabled a proposal.

Eon Yeonyeong gave a low, sincere little laugh, the sound of real enjoyment.

She was having the time of her life.

Then her fingertip reached Qing’s lips in a single glide.

The mask, slit from below, sagged down, and a clear wind washed Qing’s lower jaw.

She’s serious.

Qing let her body go slack and leaned into Eon Yeonyeong.

“Oh my, giving up already?”

“Whatever. You’re going to peel it anyway. It’s all ruined now. How am I supposed to carry my face around after this. Fine, peel it. Peel my face. It’s not like the world will change. As if I’m anything—either way the sun sets, the moon rises, the world turns. I’m just a bug...”

Qing looked like a case study in extreme lethargy and depression.

“Playing pitiful won’t earn mercy, you know?”

“Just—”

“Heh.”

At last—shraaaap.

She hadn’t sliced the last of it; instead, Eon Yeonyeong whipped the whole Human-Skin Mask off in one pull.

Those who had waited, breath held, to see the Peerless Thunder-Smile Girl unmasked gasped—

A sound that was somehow the same whether they were sucking air in or blowing it out.

The first thought that struck the hall: Why?

Why is the real Peerless Thunder-Smile Girl underneath?

Qing was a front-runner for Most Beautiful Under Heaven.

That recognition had only spread wider and wider.

Subtract the ones who hadn’t yet seen her and thought it all a mirage—or had their own tastes—or kept faith with their chosen Five Beauties of the Martial World—or were shackled by the gaze of the scariest wife under heaven.

A woman’s face soaked in sweat, by itself, holds a kind of sensuality that snatches a man’s eyes.

Let that be the most universal face of earthly beauty, and of course—

“Heavenly Flower Sword!” “Most Beautiful Under Heaven!” “Three-Headed Beauty!” “Three? Wasn’t it five?” “Young Dragon!” “Why five heads? She got four tits or what?” “Idiot—her buttocks!” “Oh!” “Seo Cheong!” “Flower-in-Flower!”

Recognition finally broke out.

When word spread that Qing had appeared, who wouldn’t sneak a look, to see what the Most Beautiful Under Heaven looked like?

Pretending otherwise, taking walks they never took, visiting tea shops they never visited, running errands they never ran—they’d rushed out to peek, so among them, those who had seen her couldn’t hide their shock and performed all the courtesies of the martial world.

“Heavenly Flower Sword? I heard she was a disciple of the Divine Lady’s Gate!”

“If she’s Heavenly Flower Sword, isn’t she the young dragon of a famed orthodox sect? And a woman like that learned a demonic art?”

“Hold on, what are you saying? A demonic art? Heavenly Flower Sword learned a demonic art? Which one?”

“Not one. Lesser Demonic Art, Black-Kill Demon Palm, Heavenly Wheel Demonic Catastrophe, even Self-Rotating Demonic Art. Looks like she’s collecting the Ten Supreme Demonic Arts.”

“Then that means she’s got Saljungsal in her hands now, too?”

“Huh?” “Huh?” “Huh?”

Qing looked down at the hall.

Half were aghast; half looked dazed.

And? So what? What’s that to me?

Qing murmured, quiet.

“Fine. I should just disappear. Far away, to the Western Regions or somewhere—go where no one knows me and just... drag along this life that didn’t manage to die...”

Back in Qing’s homeland, they called this the Five Stages of Death.

It had turned out not to belong only to death; it appeared as a universal emotional pattern when a person was caught in calamities too great to bear—catastrophe, disgrace—so it came to be called by another name too: the Five Stages of Grief.

Denial—anger—bargaining—depression.

It looked like a person dying in spirit, a kind of decline.

But there are five stages.

Paradoxically, the last is acceptance.

The strength of a person taking their seat at the end of all that falling.

That is how people, standing against nature’s unfair violence and each other’s endless hatred, refuse to break and at last flourish and build civilization.

A gentle smile touched Qing’s face.

“Hello, everyone. It’s me. Seo Cheong. Mm. Well? I am the Peerless Thunder-Smile Girl, right? See? I didn’t lie.”

The noise surged up at once.

Over a hundred martial artists all raised their voices at once, each to say their piece, and so not a single word reached the ear—just chaos.

“There. See? Not that dramatic, is it?”

Qing turned her head.

She couldn’t see Eon Yeonyeong, stuck tight to her back, but Eon Yeonyeong had a clear view of Qing’s profile.

“My. I knew you’d become a beauty, but this... What a waste, revealing such a face to... those.”

“Words you don’t mean.”

“Heh, true. But you did truly surprise me.”

“Mhm. So. Let me go now? Preferably somewhere a bit safe?”

“Oh my. You’re so relaxed.”

“What’s done is done.”

Think about it—so what?

Whatever the Evil Path yaps about, she didn’t care at all.

They weren’t people to begin with.

As for Master, the family at the Divine Lady’s Gate, friends, elders, comrades in the Martial Alliance—

The shame wouldn’t just fill both arms; it would be bargain-bin clearance. Even then, I’d owe a lifetime of back orders and deliveries.

And what of it?

Demonic art? I can dispute that till they choke.

Master said so too.

Impersonation? If I say I did it to erase the Absorbing Qi Demonic Art from the world, who’s going to say what?

Did I practice Absorbing Qi Demonic Art?

Master can testify that this was all the Blood Sect’s wicked conspiracy. Murong Juhee and my Sword-Friend can back it; Jangmyeong won’t be persuasive as a witness, but still.

“Mhm. Are you letting me go now? Maybe take me somewhere a bit safe and set me down? Last time you were flying around with corpse-puppets and all that.”

“Oh my, I have only corrected a wrong. Your hardship hasn’t even begun. I’ve merely completed the preparations.”

“Keh. Figures. My bad for letting myself get suckered.”

Qing snorted.

You don’t beat or woo a final boss with some half-baked “she fell for me” nonsense.

“Now then. Everyone?”

The hall was still in shock.

Some shouted their own lines, some found perfect rhythm with their neighbors and babbled away, some bellowed at this side.

“Lady Seo Mun Surin? Would you gather the eyes for me?”

“Should I use Tathāgata Divine Palm? Honestly I feel like planting a big one on Nyonyeong right now. Can I just do one?”

“My. Heh. You may, if you wish. I wouldn’t recommend it, though.”

“Figures. So it won’t work.”

“Unless you want to find out what happens when you throw the Internal Body Water Method around carelessly.”

“My inner power is no joke, okay? I’ve got loads, okay? Master said I’m basically Profound Realm, okay?”

“Oh my. Lady Seo Mun Surin, how splendid. But I’m more splendid than that.”

As if to say “go on, try,” she slid her arms from Qing’s torso, loosening the hold, then coiled them around Qing’s waist.

Qing cleanly gave up.

If it were just the two of them, she’d have tried the “I saw through your bluff!” play. But with a pit of villains below, taking internal injuries wasn’t ideal.

And if she’s beyond Profound Realm—then above that, isn’t it?

It’d be easy to call it swagger, but that status window had marked her the official final hidden boss.

What did it say? Enemy of mankind? Destroyer of the world? What is she, a nuke?

Qing’s hands pressed the sky.

At the same instant, her emitted qi announced itself with its distinct sound.

Dooong...!

A temple bell pealed out of nowhere.

A pure tone that repelled the impure with the force of Rightness—it shut mouths across the hall at once.

“Tathāgata Divine Palm! She really is Heavenly Flower Sword—”

Dooong...!

If she let them, they’d start another round of jabbering. Qing rang the bell again.

Any martial artist knew what this meant.

They looked up, meekly, at the top of the casket.

“Everyone? Lady Seo Mun Surin used my name to bring me great shame, and she must apologize to me.”

Qing grumbled.

“Keh. It’s all out now—what apology? Forget it. I’m going to keep using your name. If you hear in the Luoyang markets that Eon Yeonyeong stripped naked and danced, declaring she sleeps with ten men a day and she’s at nine-thousand nine-hundred ninety-nine, so she’ll make it ten today to hit ten thousand, and she’s doing a filthy dance—that’s me. Next time I’m not the Peerless Thunder-Smile Girl, I’m Eon Yeonyeong, Greatest Slattern of All Ages, Gaping-Slut Smile Girl.”

“Oh my. Then would you give me notice first? I’ll shoulder the infamy for you that day—just be sure I get to watch.”

“Hmph.”

Qing snorted again.

Eon Yeonyeong only laughed, heh, the way you might at a cute child’s pout.

“Heavenly Flower Sword will come to my residence, the Full Moon Pavilion in Hangzhou, to apologize. And on the way, you will stop at five cities: Yubang, Imgi, Hoeum, Taesu, and Soju.”

Qing grumbled again. There wasn’t much else she could do.

“Keh. Why would I?”

“Because if not, I’ll turn the ones dear to you into corpse-puppets. Of course, they will be self-willed corpse-puppets, capable of thought and moving by their own will, so it’s only leaving the human species for the corpse-puppet kind. Not that bad a term, really. I don’t want you to hate me. Truly.”

Qing paused.

The part about not wanting her hatred had no laughter in it—it was sincere. That, at least, was a relief.

The end boss of unknown realm shouldn’t rampage just yet.

I don’t know what she’s plotting.

Even if a worse disaster comes later, even if many fall into grief because of it—

I still want my people safe.

“Dirty. Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll do it.”

“Heh, I thought you would.”

The way the two of them kept whispering and dawdling midstream didn’t please the crowd of martial artists.

And if they weren’t pleased—so what?

“Lady Seo Mun Surin will, upon reaching each city, remain at least four days—three nights—and, upon departing, reach the next city within a month. You all understand what that means, don’t you?”

Stop at five cities, then go to Hangzhou.

Three nights in each city, and from departure, arrive at the next within a month.

It sounded almost like a travel plan.

Only this itinerary was announced to the whole wide world.

To those hunting demonic arts, it would be a once-in-a-lifetime chance.

Those gathering in numbers would raise their forces and feel their way up from Hangzhou; the longer it took, the more dangerous it would become.

Of course it meant cutting a countless road of blood.

Those were the terms Eon Yeonyeong set.

A price of... a certain amount of suffering.