Chapter 501: Karma Drips Along the Thread of Life and Death (3)

Chung was dumbfounded.

What was this? All that talk about not wanting to be hated—yet the vibe was more like, “If you can survive, go ahead and try.”

“Could you give me something I can actually do? You just said it’d be ‘somewhat’ difficult. Do you not know what ‘somewhat’ means?”

“My, my. Is slipping free really so hard for the owner of Ripple-Step? You don’t even have to come all the way to Hangzhou, you know. Even if someone becomes a corpse-spirit, it’s only the paper that changes. The name. The temperament. The memories. The appearance—all the same.”

Eon Yeonyeong had never said she’d kill anyone.

She’d only said she’d turn a cherished person into a corpse-spirit.

Name, temper, memories, looks—unchanged.

Acting by its own will—a sapient corpse-spirit.

But... was that really true?

And how was that not a threat?

“They can think and act on their own? Then what’s the difference between a human and a corpse-spirit?”

“Oh, Lady Seomun—humans and corpse-spirits have not a single stroke in common. They look alike, but the two can never coexist.”

“Why? You just said they’re the same as humans. And when a river’s about to burst its banks, it’s people who rush in to shore it up, isn’t it?”

“Did I? Hehe. Lady Seomun, do you know the very first thought that comes when one becomes a corpse-spirit? Ah—I am no longer human. Yes, I bear a human face and the same consciousness, the same soul, but to them I can never again be received as human.”

“Why? If everything’s the same, why? Are you saying it’s different psychologically? You just said it’s the same.”

“Because corpse-spirits don’t age. Think about it. Everything else identical, but one of them alone never grows old. Wouldn’t that make the corpse-spirit the superior being? Then tell me—could the current rulers of the world, the humans, accept that?”

“Hm. Are you one yourself? You sure know a lot.”

“Hehe. I’ve heard that reaction my whole life. You know what I do. Ah, right—if you truly dislike it, Lady Seomun, you could simply become a corpse-spirit yourself.”

Chung’s guard shot up. She scowled.

“Right. Of course. All of this is because of my constitution, isn’t it? That’s why you’re glued to me like this.”

“But of course. You knew?”

Chung snorted.

“I don’t stop people from liking me. But if they only like my body? Pass. If all you want is my flesh, how are you any different from a lecher or a succubus?”

“Lady Seomun, you don’t yet understand what you mean to me. To me, one Lady Seomun is more precious than everything in this world.”

“And you shove the precious person toward death?”

“Hehe. It’s fine. It’s preferable to make you a corpse-spirit while you’re alive, but dead works too. So put your worries down. If you die—goodness—why, I’ll be right there in front of your eyes.”

“Good grief. I’m going to lose it.”

So the body’s the point, and it doesn’t matter dead or alive.

What even was this? Absolutely insane.

Of course, that didn’t mean Chung intended to meekly become a corpse-spirit—or offer up any cherished person to become one either.

Because it was fishy.

Nothing changes, supposedly, except a shift in species and the realization—This body is a corpse-spirit, not a person.

What does “never ages” really mean? Ageless in body? Ageless in life? Or ageless and undying?

“Whatever. I don’t have to break through alone, right? I can get help if I want?”

“Oh? Lady Seomun intends to share this perilous journey with someone? Truly? The Lady Seomun I know... well. If you wish it, by all means.”

The answer implied: you’ll try to handle it alone anyway.

“You said it’s fine. Don’t take it back later.”

“Of course. Now—promise.”

Smack—a soft cheek touched her own.

Oh come on, in front of everyone?

Chung grimaced.

“Then I’ll wait in Hangzhou. Hehe, how long it’s been since I waited for someone. My heart’s already racing. Yes... how long since waiting itself felt like hope...”

At the same time: a push between the shoulder blades.

Really? Couldn’t just let her go—had to shove?

Chung landed lightly and shot a withering look upward.

She’d never seen Eon Yeonyeong’s face the whole time because the woman had clung behind her.

And seeing it now, Chung’s heart lurched. Oh, for—why.

A face sculpted to Chung’s exact tastes stood right there.

But Chung snapped out of it fast.

Wow. Bad karma. Mm. Bad karma. That clears the head.

Once clear-headed, the flaws came into focus.

So the lady’s chest was... modest.

If that chest had been big, she might’ve actually lost her mind. Bigger is better. Hm. Hm.

Granted, it’s only natural that a “super-delicate, sickly maiden” can’t have a big chest—

it’d look bulky.

Heemae. I want Heemae.

Mine—the one I can knead whenever I want.

Eon Yeonyeong’s expression turned... complicated.

As if, with a woman’s intuition, she’d grazed some extremely rude inner monologue.

“Well then, everyone—I’ll take my leave.”

The upright coffin Eon Yeonyeong was standing in clunked open as she leaned sideways.

She dropped into it—and at once a quartet of little corpse-spirits Chung had seen before hoisted the four coffin legs.

What did you even call this?

A coffin palanquin? A funeral rickshaw? A hearse?

The eight-legged, four-wheel-drive coffin sedan shot skyward as if rocket-propelled and carved through the air.

The coffin dwindled in an instant.

And in its place—hesitating treasure-seekers—and the world’s foremost beauty, mask off, unveiled.

—Master. Must you really make matters so troublesome?

A voice tapped Eon Yeonyeong’s ear.

Inside the closed coffin, she curved her lips.

“Hehe. Lady Seomun will come to understand—just how thin and brittle human affections really are. When she despairs as every bond she cherishes turns to a blade against her, she’ll remember the one who never changed and always waited.”

No matter how strong the bond—even blood—human desire ultimately curves back toward the self.

Warmth is like the sun: the more someone turns and reaches toward it, the higher and closer they fly.

But the sun is a mirage—cold, remote, and deceiving beyond all places in this world.

So those who fly higher fall longer.

Such, in Eon Yeonyeong’s eyes, is the law of the world.

—As expected of you, Master! Super-deadly thunder-strike maiden! Ah, that one, you liked it, didn’t you? I can use it?

“Hehe. Of course.”

—But if, by any chance, the orthodox sects move to rescue her—what then?

“That’s the excuse we give the Blood Sect—there’ll be a righteous-versus-demonic war. Not that it matters to me. Still—we keep time with the drum for now. Even if we mean to discard them later, they’re useful yet.”

If they did muster in force to save Chung, a war between orthodox and demonic would be inevitable.

For all her hard shell, could Lady Seomun’s soft heart withstand the blood-debt?

Even if she could—could the world?

After she faces that deluge of blame and hatred, only then will she grasp how petty and hollow human affections are.

Chung’s figure blurred—then split into eight semi-transparent Chungs exploding in different directions.

Ripple-Step.

A peerless body art that, at the very least, guaranteed the safety of one’s own skin.

Back to Seomun {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} Chung—back to Chung. No need to hide Ripple-Step now.

The world whipped open from its twisted, crumpled spin of free-fall—

and some thug stared at Chung in shock.

Three hundred points of bad karma. Huh? Only three hundred?

After watching Eon Yeonyeong’s, three hundred felt... cute.

And this guy was wearing a uniform from that Beggar-North Heavenly whatever?

Chung remembered demonic-sect garb for one reason: these were the scum who’d slaughtered villagers and set up a mountain stronghold.

Yep. Death sentence.

Chung’s palm touched the man’s chest.

GONG!—a bell-strike, and his eyes rolled as he crumpled.

Chung drew the Moonlight Sword for the first time in a while.

Whatever Eon Yeonyeong used, Seomun Chung used a sword.

“From here on, anyone who charges me—I’ll take it as a duel to the death and kill you all!”

Yes, it was a den of villains, but if you come hunting the world’s foulest demonic arts, you should be ready to stake your life.

Chung split into eight again.

With enemies packed on all sides, Ripple-Step’s annoying constraint—always appearing at someone’s back—turned into an advantage.

Only, maybe because the crowd was so dense, her space-skipping footwork was under huge load—

throb! A needle-long spike seemed to bore through her brain—an awful headache.

People forced through the press gaped at the world’s greatest beauty.

Those lovely lips curved.

Chung’s sword-aura spread like a fanning screen.

Clang-clang-clang—several weapons caromed away, and with a sharp chime a blade flew in two halves.

The lout clutching the stump stared between Chung and his broken beloved sword.

Can’t even wield sword-qi and you come sniffing after demonic arts?

Thunk. Chung punched through his heart and paid out the price of his bravado—then lunged again, a savage thrust.

A heavy bite—one more skewered.

The blade should come out a different way than it went in.

A personal preference, yes—but when facing many, cruelty is its own weapon.

Chung loosed her inner force and ripped the sword wide.

When steel lodges in flesh, the hands clutch it on instinct. And with inner force—

Two bodies threaded on her sword arced through the air, describing a great semicircle—

and crashed down on a knife-man who’d thrust from behind.

Her sword-aura spun again—shrrk.

The great, starlit blade split cloth and bone and, not yet spent, drove deep into the hard earth of the mountainside.

“You bitch! Seomun Chung!”

“Who’re you calling a bitch—do you even know me!?”

Chung batted aside a charging blast with the Moonlight Sword and snapped back—

as a blade coiled like a dragon came whipping in—Absolute-Falling-Star Venerable, Jun Gichung, himself.

Chung’s figure split to eight on the spot.

Jun Gichung’s glorious dive cleaved empty air—and spiked into an unlucky demonic grunt.

“Uraaah!”

Of the eight spectral Chungs, the strongest one roared.

Skidding sideways in a low lean, Chung’s color flushed back to full—and her sword carved down another foe in clean, flashing lines.