Chapter 651: Joint March (7)

One hallmark of someone bad at studying: number one—

they perfect their “prep” before they ever study.

First, they draft a meticulous daily schedule they absolutely never intend to keep.

They secure the best textbooks and teaching aids.

They pour money into the hottest “miracle” lectures.

Then they need to rent a place near those lectures.

And when it finally comes time to study, a sudden bout of compulsive cleanliness hits—they bathe and scrub their room to exorcise wicked airs and compose body and mind, then think, Huh, why is cleaning so fun—do I... have a talent for cleaning...?

Not just for studying; it’s the same when you dabble in some hobby you don’t actually care about but sounds good to others.

Unsurprisingly, Qing also had a past like that; a habit doesn’t just vanish.

“Master, is Hair-Shearing & Marrow-Washing a difficult operation? I’m a full-fledged expert now—couldn’t I do it?”

Hair-Shearing & Marrow-Washing!

Long ago there was a legendary figure with the elegant style-name Manqian—Dongfang Shuo.

They say he lived three thousand sexagenary cycles, or whatever.

Around the time Dongfang Shuo was “nine thousand years old,” he met an old man and bragged:

Hey, squirt, how old are you?

What? Ninety? Wow, a total baby, baby.

Kiddo, sit right here.

I’ll tell you the secret of longevity.

I practiced strict vegetarianism, drew in nature’s breath, and lived nine thousand years.

Every three thousand years I pulled out my bones and washed the marrow (Bone-Reversing & Marrow-Washing), and every two thousand years I shed my skin and replaced my hair with new (Skin-Peeling & Hair-Felling).

The white-browed elder must have been past speechless, on the verge of ascending out of sheer disbelief.

A bright-young punk barking familiar speech and claiming to be nine thousand years old?

But that era was that era; after long wars, there were lunatics everywhere.

So the elder simply pitied him as one more common madman.

Besides, he claimed to have cut off fire-eating.

To cut off fire-eating meant: first, no meat; second, even grain was eaten raw, never cooked.

A paragon of strict vegetarianism—so strict you’d think living nine thousand years that way is worse than just grilling meat diligently and dying at a hundred.

Or maybe that’s why his mind broke.

Anyway.

Combine Bone-Reversing & Marrow-Washing with Skin-Peeling & Hair-Felling, and you get Hair-Shearing & Marrow-Washing.

And for martial artists, Hair-Shearing & Marrow-Washing is a real method.

The recipient must be young—before their sinew-bone and meridians have hardened.

The practitioner must be a master with superb command of internal energy and bodywork.

The practitioner rams their inner energy into the subject’s channels, purging foulness and blasting open blocked nodes.

Put shortly, it’s a high-pressure flush of the meridian network.

The effect is formidable.

On blocked channels: wheezing the inner energy along, piling it up by inches.

On wide-open channels: ultra-fast Small Circuit, every breath ramming energy into the dantian.

A child who receives Hair-Shearing & Marrow-Washing and one who doesn’t—when it comes to learning martial arts, it’s hare vs. tortoise in a track event.

Qing, too, wanted to give Jayeo this treatment before teaching her martial arts.

Of course, she didn’t know the details.

Because Qing.

She only knew it was supposed to be amazing.

Even in her wandering days you’d hear the same laments if you sat in a teahouse and listened:

Damn this rotten world—if only I’d gotten Hair-Shearing & Marrow-Washing and learned supreme arts, I’d be a top master by now!

Ximen Surin looked at Qing.

“Thy inner energy has long surpassed the bounds of thy realm, and thou art adept with many inner arts, thy technique fully mature. So, yes, thou couldst do it. It is not so hard as one thinks—and yet, it is also hard.”

She knew Qing well.

She knew Qing didn’t actually know what she was talking about.

So she explained the dangers.

Hair-Shearing & Marrow-Washing isn’t that difficult a method.

Even marketplace storytellers spin yarns of a master, on the verge of death, punching open the hero’s Conception and Governing Vessels.

Aside from the hero being a fully grown youth, the principle is similar.

A dying master can still do it.

But it is also a difficult method.

After performing it, the practitioner permanently loses a significant portion of inner energy; in the process, their vitality, their source, suffers, and they often take to bed seriously ill.

It’s why those storybook masters smile contentedly and die right after.

For this reason, Hair-Shearing & Marrow-Washing is a great boon usually reserved for scions of great houses.

Most cases are elders, already retired from the front line, stepping up for the sect’s future.

And that is the strength of a great house.

Thus, in sects with deep history and massive power, the talented are born with the “Marrow-Wash silver spoon,” shoot up, and become masters.

It’s how the Five Great Sects of the past still undergird today’s nine orthodox sects, and how the Five Great Houses of old still remain the Five Great Houses now.

“Ah. So there really is no free lunch.”

Naturally, Qing hadn’t known about the practitioner’s after-effects. Because Qing.

But even if she had, same answer.

“Falling ill? That’s my specialty. Heh-heh. I’ll suffer a bit and be done.”

Ximen Surin’s eyebrow twitched.

The anger-bar barely moved.

Saying so lightly before her master that she’d take to bed—that alone deserves divine punishment, no, a nuclear smiting.

But a disciple who, for a girl she’s barely grown attached to, declares she’ll do it without a second’s hesitation—who acts like there’s nothing to hesitate about—was both admirable and dear.

So she could only sigh and answer:

“It has long weighed on my heart that I could not do it for my own disciple. Is it not the elder’s task—to do such things for the sake of those who follow? Bring the child.”

“Ah—no, Master. How could I be so unfilial. My inner energy overflows, and, well, you know I’m sturdy.”

“My disciple thinks far too lightly of her master. What a Translucent expert does and what a Flower-Realm expert does diverge from the time cost alone; the inner energy and vitality spent are markedly lower. If one can spend less, why pay a dearer price?”

“The value of a thing differs by person; that’s why markets exist and trade rises, does it not? To me, Master’s health is the dearest good, so the higher price falls to me.”

Ximen Surin thought:

I’d planned to wring this little fiend out, but the way she strings words together is persuasive—well, a thief does teach well.

And it was heartwarming.

Her lips bent into a soft arc.

“As my disciple is thus, so is her master. And what master wishes to watch her disciple suffer? Do not even put such grotesque words in thy mouth.”

“No. However Master says it—this time, no.”

Qing, for her part, was firm.

Not the usual obedient disciple; she and her master bickered a long while over who would do it.

Ximen Surin was a little surprised.

The disciple who always said “Understood” was being impudent—and also admirable, knowing why she insisted.

But age tells.

“It is for thy disciple as well. The child is thy disciple’s disciple, not mine. If I spend my power and moreover fall ill, and thou shouldst feel a seed of resentment toward me for what befell thy child—would that truly be well?”

“Ah.”

A shameless ploy.

Should’ve just asked Martial Buddha or Elder Namgung.

“Uh—mm. Let me think a little more. Maybe it’s still early?”

“Early? The younger, the better. As we speak, bones are hardening and foulness is sticking.”

“Jayeo should prepare her heart, too.”

“Do not entertain strange thoughts. Bring the child, quietly and properly.”

And yet—you can’t just meekly hand Jayeo over, can you.

****

Having waffled and withdrawn, Qing scampered straight to Martial Buddha.

“Master Muhak, I wanted to ask about Hair-Shearing & Marrow-Washing. Is it a heavy undertaking?”

“To that degree, no. One usually attempts it upon reaching the Flower Realm, and at that point losing some inner energy is no great matter. Vitality is harmed, true—but by that measure, harsh training or foul living also harms vitality.”

Martial Buddha smiled gently.

“You called her Jayeo? Heavenly Flower Sword’s heart carries much of the Buddha’s compassion.”

“In truth—it was Master.”

Qing explained things.

Muhak’s opinion matched Ximen Surin’s.

“At Translucent, the amount of inner energy hardly matters, and reborn vitality rises swiftly; a few days’ ache and that is that. It is not customary, true—but follow the great mother’s word.”

It would be efficient for a Translucent expert to perform it.

But a Translucent expert is not just any expert.

They are the face of the sect—its pride and its core combat power.

So you do not ask a Translucent expert for Hair-Shearing & Marrow-Washing.

And a Translucent expert knows that it is, absolutely, not a thing done “for the sect.”

Namgung Daero gave a similar answer next.

“Oh? You said you’d take her as a foster daughter, and already you’re looking out for her? Good. A fine idea.”

“I heard the after-effects are heavy.”

“Once you’re at the Flower Realm, what matters is perfecting your sword; who cares so much about inner energy or vitality? I performed Hair-Shearing & Marrow-Washing on Aja with my own hands.”

Aja. Hm—come to think of it, Sword-Friend’s childhood name would be Aja. That... suits him.

“At the time I judged my sword nearly complete, close to Translucent—so what if vitality took a hit. More than anything, looking at your son—how does a father leave Marrow-Washing to someone else? That’s what it is to be a parent; you want to do one more thing with your own hands. Looking at the way he acts nowadays, I should’ve left it to my uncle after all. Still, thanks to good friends he stopped that one-armed nonsense; I’m always grateful to you.”

“Ah. The one-armed thing.”

“If you leave a perfectly good hand idle, what else is it °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° but one-armed? Hm. You’ll manage Translucent in the end, won’t you? In my view it’s a good idea. With children, being able to do something for them is itself a joy. But remember—it won’t go as you intend. Don’t spoil her.”

“Ah. Yes.”

Qing nodded awkwardly.

Hearing serious talk about parent and child left her feeling... awkward.

“Oh, right. Elder, could I get a wooden sword? I wanted to have one made for the child, but wood is scarce around here.”

“Mm, good. I’ve laid some in the side room; take a few. If you’re going to drill with her, you’ll need one, too.”

Namgung Daero agreed readily.

Would Namgung Sinjae, who considers Qing his child’s lifesaver, begrudge a black-ironwood practice sword or three?

Granted, for “just that,” each one’s unit cost is murderous—but for House Namgung, it barely counts as an expense.

****

After all that deliberation,

I decided it would be all right to burden Master a little.

True, we’ll be leaving Xining soon, stopping by the Hollow Mountain Sect and then heading home, so I could just stall and carry it out quietly on my own.

But as Namgung Daero said—being able to do something for her is itself a joy.

And if I end up having to step away, I’d like to leave Master with something like a granddaughter’s place.