Chapter 743: The Great Instructor Ximen Qing (15)

The Blood Cult trio, the so-called Three Idiots, had, as of last night, lost the bribes they had been counting on thanks to their third close brush with the Minor Water Witch.

Those bribes—the spirit medicine loaded with gu—were not only the mission the Blood Cult had entrusted to them, but the very key that was supposed to guarantee their future successful infiltration into the Martial Alliance.

Those orthodox bastards always made sure to pay back any bribe they took in full; if you handed one pill each to the Academy’s Director, to the administrative officer, and to your direct instructor, you would definitely end up joining at least a mid-level combat unit within the Martial Alliance.

Which was why there had never been any need for them to force themselves to act friendly toward ordinary cadets with no power, no backing, and even less ability to scrape together bribes in the first place.

And now the key to all of that had been taken away.

That changed things.

On top of that, the Minor Water Witch had told them that even inside the Academy they had already lost people’s goodwill, that they were such pathetic idiots their Demon Marquis was pointing it out herself; didn’t that mean there were way more petty, small-minded little shits burning with ugly jealousy than they’d expected?

So what were they supposed to do?

*****

“Hm? You? You’re not on cleaning duty, are you?”

The cadets who had just come back from washing up looked baffled.

Because the dorm floor, which was usually only “clean enough,” was now so spotless it practically shone, and over in the corner, there was Jo Hyeonil holding a rag.

“Ah, seniors. I just... wanted to clear my head a little. I’ve had some unpleasant things happen recently, so I was a bit on edge...”

They could have demanded to know what kind of bullshit act this was, but from a man’s point of view, it was actually a very memorable sight.

Because a man wasn’t supposed to go throwing the word “sorry” around carelessly.

A man’s apology wasn’t supposed to be some pathetic line like “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please don’t cut my balls off”; it was supposed to happen in the form of quietly lowering yourself and stepping up to speak first.

A manly, straightforward method that showed remorse through action, not words.

For example, after a huge fight, when the air was still cold between you, suddenly dropping, “You hungry?” or “I’m in the mood for a drink, come out,” or “One round of cutting wind with our blades?”—that kind of thing was how you expressed your regret and desire to make peace.

So the cadets looked at one another and—

“Come on, Jo, kid, there’s a set order for this stuff; you’re messing it up. Who was on duty today again, Oh? Only Oh got off easy.”

“Man, look at this guy, going this far. You haven’t even washed yet, right? Go wash already, hurry up.”

Acting like it was nothing, like nothing at all had happened between them...! That was the law of men.

In other words, it was that dramatic moment when reconciliation between men was achieved.

“But, what’s this about something unpleasant? You all right?”

“Yes, well, it’s been resolved now, so...”

“Good, then. If it turned out all right, that’s what matters. Anyway, go wash up.”

Once Jo Hyeonil staggered out, the cadets looked at each other again.

“I told you, that kid’s not a bad one.”

“I did think he’d been acting a little weird lately. Sounds like something happened, so it’s lucky he’s come to his senses now.”

This too was a hallmark of men.

Chew a guy out to his face, then praise him behind his back so the sincerity never actually reaches him; it was hard to say why they were like this, exactly.

“But what do you think happened? Even if it’s personal business, we’re all stuck living here in the Academy anyway, and he hasn’t gotten any letters or anything, has he?”

“Exactly. He just changed all of a sudden. Hm?”

Come to think of it, there had already been someone who suddenly changed, hadn’t there.

“Now that you mention it, didn’t he go get counseling from Instructor Ximen?”

“Ah, so he did.”

“Of course it was Instructor Ximen. Naturally, you couldn’t stay arrogant and overbearing after hearing such precious words.”

They concluded that returning to normal could only be thanks to Instructor Ximen’s counseling—the kind of counseling that made your chest swell and presented you with a secret vision of your future.

“I still can’t forget Instructor Ximen’s words. The instructor said, ‘It hurts because you’re young.’ Tsk, tsk. Beautiful!”

Pain that doesn’t kill you is nothing more than the hammering that forges you stronger.

Rocks by the roadside shatter when you pound on them, but the iron ore veins buried deep in the earth, the steel that has endured the crushing weight of a mountain, only grow stronger as they’re hammered, until they’re finally reborn as renowned swords.

Will you live as a common stone, crumble under pain, and end up nothing but grains of sand, or will you become the steel that endures the weight of a great mountain without a word, forge your pain into achievement, and hone yourself into a blade?

How are you going to live?

“Tsk, of course, if you’re a swordsman, you ought to be reforged as a single blade. This is no time for me to be slacking; the instructor said every single strike gathers up until it reaches ten thousand. Who will cross swords with me?”

“Hey now, trying to run off ahead on your own, are you? I’ll come too.”

“Brother Yu, you’re not leaving your little brother out, are you?”

Anyone from Qing’s homeland would have said they’d heard this kind of thing somewhere before, that they’d heard this exact cliché so many times they had calluses on their ears.

But this was the Central Plains.

Here, the “self-development” that should really be pronounced “success-peddling” wasn’t going to appear as an extreme marketing technique for another few hundred years, so in that sense, weren’t these truly slogans from the future?

To be honest, success-peddling was a vile scam: you spread it for money, or for bragging rights, or both.

Even so, this particular scam did have one somewhat positive side: after hearing it, for some reason you felt like you’d become a slightly better person, and your motivation surged for a short period (length varying by person).

And Qing was, after all, only twenty-two this year, an absurdly young age at which to have reached an extreme realm as a top-class expert.

A top-class master whose name was already being mentioned as a potential future Zenith Under the Heavens, already someone who had “succeeded.”

So what kind of impact would future-grade agitation have when it came out of Qing’s mouth?

To people of the Central Plains who had no immunity yet to self-development, it was a lethally effective speech.

“I become a master. I become a master, I become a master. I become a master.”

“Hm? Brother Oh, what are you muttering there?”

“Ah. This is communion with heaven and earth, moving the qi of the universe through thought itself. It’s the Law of Attraction Instructor Ximen taught me...”

What was cultivation’s foundation, the storing of qi?

It was holding on to the qi of heaven and earth with your breath and gathering it in place; this was how humans connected to the universe, and just as you moved your own true qi, the qi of heaven and earth was waiting to respond to humans.

Therefore: seek, believe, act.

That was the secret—that secret—of the masters.

Qing, as an educated person, did briefly wonder if it was all right to be saying this kind of pseudoscience out loud, but honestly, it felt like it fit the Central Plains far better than her homeland anyway.

Besides, this world really did have qi.

And for Cadet Oh, whose self-esteem was basically scraping the floor, the power of self-affirmation probably wasn’t a bad idea.

Even if it did make Qing’s conscience twinge a little to spout content copied wholesale from future self-help books as if they were her own words.

But seriously, weren’t self-help books basically just your mom’s nagging dressed up in fancy phrasing?

Affirm yourself. Then the universe will help you.

That just meant, “Don’t give up.”

Morning is important, so study in the morning.

Study when other people are resting; you have to study during your breaks.

Night is important too, so work hard at night.

Spend every waking moment studying: study after breakfast, study after lunch, study after dinner, then sleep, wake up, and start studying again from breakfast.

You’re supposed to do that in your teens. You’re supposed to do it in your twenties too. Your thirties are your golden age. Don’t miss your forties. You still have to do it in your fifties. Study is for life.

In other words, strive this fiercely for your goal.

If you never rest and grind and grind, of course you’ll succeed; how could you not?

Who on earth doesn’t know this already?

All you had to do was filter out the self-help books where the author made up nonsense terms, babbled about “developing your brain,” “changing your consciousness,” “systematizing your processing method for work,” boasted about how they had already succeeded, and then announced, all puffed up, “The author has decided to call this process the Monmi or whatever.”

Since Qing was plagiarizing the content of future self-help books with all her might and shouting it out, the cadets’ motivation shot straight up.

If that author’s claim about ten thousand hours or whatever was right, then what you really needed was an environment that made sustainable effort actually possible.

Starting from Mandarlo’s transformation, to the Three Idiots who’d gotten all twisted up because their realm had gone up a bit and people were talking, and finally to the Heavenly Flower Sword’s “counseling” that had even moved those three.

Three waves of motivation-raising, one after another, had everyone burning with passion.

With everyone like that, each person kept looking at everyone else and reinforcing their own determination to train, creating a virtuous cycle.

If this had been media from Qing’s homeland, in a movie, this would be exactly the point where bright, upbeat music started playing and the scenes of everyone working hard got stitched together in a training montage.

That was how the Academy’s days were flowing along, like a picture—no, like scenes from a movie.

It was a sweaty summer...

****

The problems that cadets brought to Qing for counseling were, in the vast majority of cases, things that could be solved by plagiarizing self-help books.

Honestly, “I’m having a hard time, I don’t really know what cultivation is or what a sword even is, I have no feel for it at all, am I doing all right, I can’t feel myself growing,” that kind of thing.

So she’d launch into a fiery speech, “You’re doing fine. But effort—only effort,” and they’d all be moved, their motivation reignited, and they’d rush out saying they had to go swing their swords immediately.

But not every counseling session went like that.

“Instructor. Um, instructor, you... um, no, never mind. Forgive me.”

“If something’s weighing on you, talk it out. Even if you don’t find an answer, just getting it off your chest can make you feel better, and this instructor has a very tight mouth.”

“Uu, it’s just, you see. Well... since Instructor Ximen is so beautiful, I thought you might... know men’s hearts well? No, I don’t mean it like that, it’s just, you must have a lot of men following you...”

Qing’s eyes sparkled.

This was romance counseling. It had to be romance counseling, right?

And on top of that, Cadet Yeo Ju-il, the one standing in front of her, was one of the two women who followed the Azure Dragon dancer around; it had to be romance counseling.

There was no way Qing was going to miss out on something this fun.

“Heh heh. Cadet. This instructor is already no different from a man—no, practically a man himself. Talk quickly.”

“It’s just, I... I just don’t know anymore these days.”

After hesitating, Yeo Ju-il let out her worries.

She had long admired and followed the Azure Dragon dancer, Chae Seong-ha, but lately she was starting to doubt whether he even saw her as a woman.

He had rescued her from bandits.

He had revealed that the fiancé chosen for her by her family’s political marriage was actually a hypocritical wastrel and saved her from that too.

But after all that, the price she had paid was the disgrace of breaking off an engagement, and what Chae Seong-ha had said to Yeo Ju-il then was that he would be on her side no matter what, that even if the whole world pointed fingers at her, he would believe in her and support her.

Qing honestly felt a little impressed.

Wow, this bastard. He’d reeled her in perfectly.

With that level of connection, weren’t they basically a married couple already?

Hadn’t they done enough that you could just call it a de facto marriage at this point?

But the admiration only lasted a moment.

“However, these days I don’t even know if he sees me as a woman. Lord Chae just can’t walk past anyone in trouble, so I can’t help wondering... was it only because I was in trouble that he helped me? Was I the only one who turned that into... feelings like this?”

And the people “in trouble” he helped just happened to be women nine times out of ten.

Miss Jeong—Jeong Sil-im, the second of Chae’s followers—had been bedridden with a congenital illness her whole life until he fed her spirit medicine and brought her back, and beyond her there were several other women who had received his grace; even if they couldn’t follow him around like Yeo Ju-il and Jeong Sil-im, at least five of them had already bowed and declared they would wait for him all their lives.

“And now he keeps hanging around Miss Chang, and I don’t know what trouble he thinks he’s seen in her, but every time he gets a spare moment he’s trying to talk to her, and when I watch that, haaa...”

“That’s a real cold-blooded bastard. Seriously, you think saving someone is the end of it? If you take someone’s heart, you’re supposed to take responsibility for it, that’s what being a man is.”

“Please don’t say that about him! Lord Chae just... just has too soft a heart to ignore anyone in trouble, that’s all. It just so happens that there are a lot of women in trouble...”

Mm. Empathy failed.

She was pickier than expected...

“So, to sum it up: he mostly rescues women, but it’s not on purpose. He’s just oblivious and indifferent, and has no interest in women to begin with, so he doesn’t notice their feelings. That’s what you’re saying?”

“Yes, so I was wondering how I might capture Lord Chae’s heart, and if perhaps Instructor Ximen could help me with that...”

“Hmmm.”

Listening to it, he just sounded like some guy who’d gotten a taste for going around picking up women, didn’t he? If you were going around with two women already attached to you and still sniffing around other women, flirting with yet another one, that was just a skirt-chaser.

But that didn’t mean she could say, Give up. From what I can see, he’s a lost cause. He’s a lost cause whether he’s a skirt-chaser on purpose or not, and even if he means well, he’s still a loss; what kind of real relationship do you think you’re going to have with someone that oblivious and indifferent? She couldn’t put it to her like that.

From the way she was talking, it didn’t sound like anything Qing said along those lines would get through anyway.

“Mm, have you ever directly told Cadet Chae about your precious feelings, Cadet? If he’s that oblivious, you might have to.”

“There was one time I worked up the courage, but just as I shouted, ‘I love you,’ a building next to us suddenly came crashing down. Some kind of, um, civil-engineering divine lady? Some weird shaman went on a rampage, or something like that. Thanks to that, Lord Chae threw himself over me and held me tight, and he was so solid, oh my, oh my, hee hee...”

Sweat ran down Qing’s back.

Excuse me, what? “Civil-engineering divine lady”? You can’t just drop that on me out of nowhere...