Chapter 561: Recuperation Trip (6)

We must rescue the Heavenly Flower Sword.

No matter what river of blood bars the way, it is no waste if our lives burn out.

Our orthodox martial world’s future is fighting alone, deep in enemy ground; what elder would begrudge burning himself to protect a child?

If it comes to it, we will even be ready for a righteous–unorthodox war.

With such grim resolve—at last, disembark!

Operation: Rescue the Heavenly Flower Sword—commence!

“The Heavenly Flower Sword, you say? Ah—then you’re a little late. About half a double-hour ago she boarded a boat for Kaifeng Prefecture.”

Operation: Rescue the Heavenly Flower Sword—terminated!

“But did you all rush here just to catch a glimpse of her? Truly, we did not expect the fame of the Fragrant-and-Graceful Five-Headed Immortal Beauty, the ‘Lowered-Face Xi Shi,’ the Peerless Beauty of All Ages—Lady Seomun—to spread so quickly. Such is the strength of Jiangnan, leader of Central Plains culture! Hah-hah!”

“......?”

So the orthodox warriors who had sprinted into Suzhou to gather information came trudging back, listless.

And what in the world was that string: Fragrant-and-Graceful Five-Headed Immortal, Lowered-Face Xi Shi, Peerless Beauty of All Ages—Lady Seomun?

Not “upright and proper” but “fragrant and graceful”; “five-headed” meaning “five heads’ worth of fragrance and grace.”

“Immortal of Hang’e” is indeed Immortal of Hang’e.

Not “Fallen Goose” but “Lowered Face,” meaning even Xi Shi would lower her face in shame before that beauty.

“Peerless Beauty of All Ages,” fine.

But “Lady Seomun”?

In the Central Plains, appending “Lady ~” (or using only the clan name) is the supreme honorific for a near-divine being; one dares not utter the given name and so exalts only the surname.

Leaving only a trail of questions, the Martial Alliance rescue force re-boarded and slipped meekly back along the waterway they had entered.

As for the Martial Alliance—

“You rascals! Children!”

Moyong Seongik, former commander of the Heavenly Flower Sword rescue force and Swordsman First Under Heaven, called his blood kin in a stern voice.

He had relaxed his guard of late because his troublemaker daughter had grown so adult—never imagining she would make trouble like this.

Absorbing-Demonic Force, of all things! Did she, in her rashness, not know how desperately the world craves that accursed man-slaying art? To fling herself at it like that?

Doing it for a friend is fine.

But if for a friend, you should have stopped her.

Even if you could not stop her, you should have sent word to the clan, to the Alliance, to some orthodox elder.

How could you slip off with no one the wiser?

Had things gone wrong, we might have lost the most precious daughter in the world forever. This time, he would harden his heart and give her a thorough scolding!

“F—Father...!”

“You! However immature you are—”

Give her a thorough scolding! Scold. Scold...?

“Hm? Daughter? Why is your face so pretty today—no, wait. It’s not because you’re my daughter that you look pretty... Daughter? Reborn—ohh, you’ve reached a realm! Super-transcendent! Super-transcendent! Ah, heavens—dear, are you watching? Our daughter—our daughter is super-transcendent! Barely twenty-five, still so young—khhk, if only you could see how dignified she’s become.”

A tear welled in Moyong Seongik’s eye.

He cries now and then.

Head of one of the Five Great Houses and yet, far from keeping three wives and four concubines, he is the famed faithful man who still longs for the wife who went before him, never even considering remarriage.

“F–Father? Please, this is embarrassing...”

“What shame is there? Splendid, my daughter! Do not credit sun and moon and stars—no, no. How could your own achievement be pawned off as heaven’s favor!”

“No, I really am embarrassed, please, yes?”

“What is there to be embarrassed about! This joyous day—hah, the mount of hemp grows tall from good company; you chose your friends well, you strove, and I am deeply satisfied. Now, with harvest in hand, behold how vital friendship is; you risked your life and gave your true heart, so you are worthy! This is not only a house celebration—this is a celebration for all Liaoning!”

“Dad, please, stop, it’s really mortifying—‘super-transcendent’ isn’t—”

“‘Isn’t’ what? To be super-transcendent at your age—is that ordinary? We return at once and hold a grand banquet! I’ll empty my vault if I must, treat all of Liaoning, and proclaim this joy! Such a day—”

“Ah. Lord Moyong! How have you been?”

“Oh—Heavenly Flower Sword. Yes, I have heard of your exploits. Hm. Your chivalrous spirit is outstanding. You are already a full and proper great knight-errant; I, too, must observe propriety. However, remember your—”

Moyong Seongik’s eyes went wide.

What? Why can’t I read her realm?

A Translucent master can roughly sense up to the level of super-transcendent — some wordless intuition of the realm.

If that fails?

It implies Flower Realm or Possession.

Between masters of the Translucent Realm, faces are known; even if not, salient points are. If it’s a young stranger and the realm cannot be read—

Then it must be Flower Realm. Or possession.

Either way, twenty-one is absurd.

Hmm. Twenty-one and possessed — one could bow to that.

With decades ahead of her, would she not one day shed possession?

Granted, that assumes she could attain possession in the first place.

“...Mm. Daughter. Shall we make the banquet a little more modest?”

Moyong Juhee hung her head.

—

To Qing, friends are priceless; she is always ready to sacrifice for them.

Behold, she sacrifices even now.

She is graciously giving those baby chicks — mere super-transcendents, mere play-actors at being warriors — the chance to serve a great master of the Flower Realm!

For these pitiable novices, still floundering at mere super-transcendent and unable to find even the simple Harmony of the Three Suns, what joy could surpass attending the Heavenly Flower Sword?

She shivered anew at her own boundless magnanimity.

In that sense, Lady Moyong’s plight was truly sad.

On the very day she drew the golden lot to serve the Hundred-Million-Petals, Early-Harmony, Early-Primordial-Sword Heavenly Flower Sword, family matters claimed her time.

But family is weighty.

It can’t be helped.

Mm—Qing felt a little envious, too.

How are Mother and Father doing?

That ghoul of a younger sister had better be caring for them properly.

Stop eating both drumsticks yourself and put one in their hands, you pig.

As if they’d take it — they’ll tell you to eat it, you thick-skulled hog.

Anyway. No gloomy thoughts.

Since today’s “stand” had unavoidable business, she couldn’t just lie in bed.

Walking alone wasn’t impossible, strictly speaking.

But, as with Seol Iri the other day, it would mean gritting teeth and hobbling through pain — why do that when there are comfortable stands?

A substitute stand was needed.

“I’ll do it.” “Me.” “What? With Yeonseo here, why you two?”

And so Yeonseo, Gunyeong, and Nan-a all clamored to take the job.

This was the desperate flailing of low-levels who long to attend a Flower Realm master up close.

But among friends, discord springs — surprisingly often — from the pettiest things.

Like that pig back home who always grabs both drumsticks; or the smoker who, as if it were nothing, imposes a forced five-minute wait whenever the urge hits; or the one who splits the bill and quietly pockets the small change.

When tempers truly flare and you brawl, you share a drink and let it go.

But the petty things accrete and push people apart — a great lesson in handling friends.

The closer you are, the more careful you must be with trifles!

So taking sides in today’s half-day special service was unwise.

Therefore—

“Enough. Today’s stand is... San!”

“...A stand, you say.”

So he said — but Qing did not miss that Peng Daesan’s eyebrows did not twitch.

When his feelings are hurt, Peng’s brows move first.

To be honest, nine-tenths of the reason Qing flashed her Aura Orbs and, at the end of every sentence, said, “Ah, the Flower Realm is so wonderful — you wouldn’t understand,” was to spur her friends to train.

The remaining nine-tenths was because it amused her.

Every time she started in on “Flower Realm this, Flower Realm that,” Peng would stuff food into his mouth as if he could not bear to hear it — which looked a lot like “I want a turn serving, too.”

They grant even the wishes of the dead — what of San’s wishes, when he’s alive?

Only... as a stand, he was hopeless.

“Ahh, ssss. San, are you going to support me properly? I’m a patient, you know? Multiple fractures, ever heard of them? Should I lecture you on bone structure? If you pull on a cracked rod, would it hurt or not? My hip’s about to pop off. Aigoo, I’m dying. Sss.”

“S—sorry. Mm.”

“Ai—urk, San! Please. Support the weight. Don’t hang me, support me. Do I look like laundry to you? Am I something to hang?”

“Mm.”

“No ‘mm.’ Dropping your voice doesn’t solve it. Basics! Left forearm forward, level with the ground. Mm. Good. Now I can sit.”

Qing wriggled around alone, shifting into a seated carry while nestled against him.

“All right, go. Destination: the Library Pavilion.”

“......”

“San?”

“...Right.”

Peng Daesan’s expression was complicated.

The heavy, abundant sensation along the back of his left forearm; veins swelling on the fist clenched palm-down — how much strength he was pouring in.

And yet his pride stung.

How could this one plant her backside on a man’s forearm so easily — did she ever consider she was a woman?

Or did she simply not see him as a man?

Perhaps the latter.

Some men, having seen this sight, remained unruffled.

“Ah, sister. You’re going to the Library Pavilion. The Alliance’s Library—”

“The first Alliance Chief himself built it, to share his early insights.”

“But, as realms rise, the highest insights—”

“Truth above one’s station is poison! The Library’s access tiers are not to discriminate by birth or rank—”

“They exist to serve the Alliance’s spirit — to aid everyone’s study—”

“Yet at present, one cannot say the system—”

“Hoo-hoo. Laughable. A brat of the Five Great Houses, the greatest beneficiary, dares criticize access tiers?”

“Lady Sima? Though the Sima clan is neither one of the Five nor even the Ten Great Houses, has it not long inherited the office of strategist and managed the Library itself?”

“That is because our house has experience running the realm.”

“Only for three generations.”

“Hoo-hoo. Three generations is still running it. While your house feasted on Sichuan’s bounty, you squandered all in a northern expedition and left nothing to pass down. How could such a house be entrusted with the Alliance’s strategy corps?”

Crackle, crackle.

Usually courteous and sunny, Jegal Ihyeon had transformed into a sneering, muscle-faced brute like some unorthodox external-arts master.

And Sima Chunbong’s expression was foul by default.

“San. Can’t you drive them off?”

“I can’t manage even one chatterbox.”

On left and right, Jegal Ihyeon and Sima Chunbong spewed unsolicited, unasked-for trivia, chopping each other’s sentences and competing over who knew more — a duel of useless knowledge.

Jegal versus Sima: an old Central Plains rivalry of brains rather than fists. The overlap of traits had sparked competition.

Qing decided to treat it as white noise.

“So—you read books?”

“What? San, are you looking down on me? A gentleman should read five cartloads of books—”

“Du Fu!” “Bai Juyi’s thatched cottage!” “A real man reads five cartloads!” “The ox cart bursting with scrolls!”

“—as the saying goes. I’m a Royal Academy alum. A book-hunter. Any book that lands in my hands dies that day.”

“I guessed as much when you fought the cook. You’d fight books, too.”

“Oh? Laughing? A mere super-transcendent thinks he can joke with an Early-Harmony, Early-Primordial-Sword master?”

“That Flower Realm of yours—what is this ‘Early-Primordial-Sword’ now.”

“Of course I can joke. My ears are going to fall off. Move faster.”

With that excessive background noise, they reached the Library Pavilion.

The pavilion guards cheerfully let them in — and inside: books, mm, books. Nothing but books.

Perhaps due to fire concerns, a great five-story brick tower filled floor to ceiling with shelves and volumes.

Of course, books burn well.

One might wonder: if fire prevention is hopeless, what was the point of brick?

Find a single book in here?

Like hunting a grain of sand on a beach.

It felt like another showcase of that Eon woman’s rotten, split-open personality. But still—there is always a way.

“What was the title again? It was unusual — records on forms of swords by period and their anatomical development— I can’t find it. Mm. Someone who frequents the Library could find it.”

For the record, the hidden manual Eon Yeonyeong stashed was A Theory of Anatomical Development by Sword Form, Based on Records of the Sui–Tang Era.

Sweetened somewhat in adaptation, perhaps.

“Sister! If it’s the Library, then your junior here all but lives and breathes in this place whenever he visits the Alliance!”

“I, Sima, am as one born and raised in this Library; a tadpole who’s only pulled a few all-nighters doesn’t know his place, much less a frog’s. Kkuk!”

They shot each other a glance and zipped off.

“You’re good at making people work for you.”

“Not so. They both bragged, so I gave them a chance to prove it. That’s me — considerate and thoughtful.”

“Not consideration — more like a strong urge to cut things down. If it’s a joke, it’s at least amusing.”

“Oh, San. Your lips are sharp today. Lips, lip—mm, my mouth is bored. Is food forbidden here? Got any snacks?”

“No eating.”

In a library, the thought of eating is villainous enough.

Qing’s shoulders slumped.

“No one is watching closely. It should be fine.”

Peng Daesan plunked a pouch on the desk.

Qing’s face lit so brightly it seemed to illuminate the dim stacks.

Peng stared, dazed—then Qing flared her nostrils and sniffed, snuff-snuff.

“What is this—oh, cured meat—sniff—oh, incense—and that kick, there’s a bit of Sichuan pepper—and this, m—mm, lamb.”

“Do people usually tell by smell?”

“Wow, tender-cured! This—oh—San, did you pack this for me?”

In Qing’s homeland they call such things meat-dryings.

Hard-cured jerky is a tough traveler’s ration with no joy.

Tender-cured is pounded soft, marinated, and gently grilled several times — a rather fine, pricey snack.

A man without a snacking habit has no reason to bring such expensive meat-dryings.

Peng cleared his throat.

“Found it on the way. If someone sees, it’ll be trouble. Just eat.”