Chapter 971: It’s Me, You Fuckers (7)

A massive main gate stood tall all by itself, with no wall continuing from it. It was the independent-gate layout common to temples across the Central Plains.

And in front of it stood two familiar faces with swords at their waists.

Sarang and Yeonseo.

In a way, the two of them trying to look solemn—solemn expression, solemn posture, standing guard—didn’t suit them at all.

Of course, to an outsider beyond the gate, nothing would look strange. But to Qing, it did.

Because the moment their eyes met, they were the kind who would break into bright, beaming smiles and come charging over. Eyes sparkling, lips chattering, babbling every kind of ridiculous flattery while making a whole commotion.

So watching those two try to act strict—dignified, solemn, serious—was almost too funny.

A smile bloomed on Qing’s face.

Only then did it really sink in.

I’m home.

It was also proof that Yeonseo and Sarang’s efforts had borne fruit.

Now, in the landscape of Qing’s mind—her own home, her sanctuary—those two had planted themselves proudly in place. In Qing’s imagination, the Priestess Order would always have those two guarding the main gate.

Honestly, their “efforts” weren’t even that big a deal.

When word came from the Seol Family Trading House that Qing had arrived, they would volunteer for the afternoon shift and the next morning’s shift. That was about it.

Someone might argue that wasn’t “nothing,” but chances to greet her were only once or twice a year. And for martial artists, what was a little extra gate duty? Hardly exhausting.

So it wasn’t some grand scheme. With no ulterior motives—just a small inconvenience, a small affection, a small prank—done because they wanted to be the first to welcome an elder they liked.

And yet that “smallness” was more than enough to carve itself into someone’s heart as a beloved, homesick view—like home.

That was why—

Qing’s heart dropped.

The two disciples on duty looked down at Qing... and only looked down coldly, solemnly. That bright, uncontrollable joy they used to burst into was nowhere to be found.

What...? Why? Why are they like that?

Anxiety surged over her without warning. Her heart thudded hard—THUMP, THUMP, THUMP—and her thoughts tangled and spun.

Because of the rumor about seed-extraction demonic arts.

They said Jagwi County was crawling with every kind of trash—there was no way the Priestess Order hadn’t heard, no way.

So what? Because they thought she’d learned it? Seed-extraction demonic arts—the vilest of them all?

But—

Her steps, which had been light, suddenly turned heavy, like someone had hung a thousand-pound weight on her ankles. The sloping path up ahead felt endlessly high, dizzyingly far.

She forced herself forward...

And as she drew closer, something about Sarang and Yeonseo’s condition—

Blink, blink, blink. Blink, blink, blink-blink.

With the same “solemn” faces, they kept blinking nonstop as they locked eyes with Qing.

The corners of their mouths twitched, like they were desperately holding back laughter, and yet their eyes kept blinking—blink, blink, blink—throwing coy little aegyo at her while pretending to be stone-faced.

Qing let out a huge breath of relief.

Like the dust that had clouded the bottom of a stirred reservoir settling all at once—her troubled mind turning clear again in a heartbeat.

No, these little punks... there’s a limit to jokes like that. Damn, you scared me...

“Sarang, Yeonseo. Have you been well?”

“Yes, Great-Grand Senior Teacher. There have been no abnormalities on duty.”

“At present, the situation below the mountain is suspicious, and we are under special watch. Please forgive us for being unable to render full greetings upon seeing you.”

Their replies were crisp and rigid—so rigid it made her think, Wow. They can answer like that?

But their eyes kept blinking—blink, blink, blink—obsessively maintaining eye contact, eyelids flipping up and down like they’d lost their minds.

What is this? Some kind of trendy prank?

How am I supposed to play along?

Do I hug them or something?

Qing awkwardly spread her arms.

Yeonseo and Sarang both flinched.

“Ahem. Great-Grand Senior Teacher, gate duty is the face of the sect itself. Our joy at seeing you is as great as Mount Tai—no, greater than stacking Mount Tai, then Mount Heng, then Mount Hua, then Mount Song, then Mount Heng, then Mount Guo, then Mount Longmen, then Kunlun Mountain, and—uh—on top of that, putting Mount Jangsaek—far higher than all of it, but... we are on duty.”

“There are many eyes from the secular world, and the Sect Leader has given a strict order that we must show the imposing aura of disciplined martial artists. Wait—Yeonseo, you’re the only one being shameless— ahem.”

Qing understood immediately.

Because hadn’t Seolga-nom said the same thing?

That with the trash who’d swarmed in after hearing the rumor, there was no knowing what kind of stunt they might pull.

Of course the Priestess Order would be under attention right now.

And gate duty was the sect’s face. So there had to have been special instructions for the main-gate guards.

Things were suspicious—be vigilant—and above all, look strict and show the world the sect’s discipline. Something like that.

So the two of them were taking gate duty seriously, while still trying, somehow, to max out their ridiculous behavior.

With those rapidly blinking eyelids.

It was so funny—and so heartwarming—that Qing’s voice turned mushy with laughter.

“Ah, what do I do... I brought candy. It’s from a famous candy artisan in Gaebong. But you can’t eat candy while on duty, right?”

“Yes, Great-Grand Senior Teacher. But— but. That’s too cruel. Truly. Really. You have to leave me the plum flavor. You must.”

“Great-Grand Senior Teacher, may I offer a word? Ordinarily, eating on duty is unthinkable. However, I also believe that if something were to ‘accidentally’ slip into one’s mouth, it would be improper to spit it out carelessly.”

“Ah—Sarang, you’re a genius. Ahem. Great-Grand Senior Teacher. If candy ‘accidentally’ goes into your mouth, you simply melt it quietly so no one notices—mmph. Heh-heh. Sweet.”

“Great-Grand Senior Teacher, I’ll take pe—heh-heh—ach.”

Maybe one piece of candy was fine.

Sure, candy in the Central Plains was big, so they couldn’t quite close their jaws and their lips puckered...

But they were pretty and cute, so it was fine... probably.

Leaving the two “pucker-suckers” behind, Qing stepped through the mountain gate.

“Oh, Senior Sister’s here?”

“Hey! Everyone—Great-Grand Senior Teacher is here!”

The second-generation disciples swarmed in with a roar.

It seemed the “protect our dignity” order didn’t extend inside the gate—except to the external gate-duty team.

So Qing popped a candy into each mouth, then shoved little gifts into their hands—buttons, tassels, whatever she could grab—making them clench it tight as she headed for the Supreme Sect Leader Hall.

*****

Qing’s original residence had been a tiny wooden cottage she’d built herself behind Priestess Peak.

But when she brought Jayeo in from the Kunlun Sect, hadn’t Ximen Surin told her she was really going to live with a child in that shabby hut, and insisted she move into the empty Supreme Sect Leader Hall and live there while “maintaining” it?

And “maintaining” it wasn’t even troublesome.

The very fact that someone lived there was maintenance. A house without people slowly rotted and crumbled away.

As Qing walked toward the Supreme Sect Leader Hall, a bright smile gradually blossomed across her face.

She passed through the dense temple grounds. Toward the back. Her steps quickened, faster and faster—until she finally broke into a run, TAT-TAT-TAT, bounding forward as she closed the distance.

Qing slipped right through the front gate of the Supreme Sect Leader Hall—

“Jayeo, where are yooou! Dad’s here! Ta-da!”

Qing threw both arms wide and shouted.

In her sight were two figures—one big, one small—crouched down in one corner of the courtyard.

They were crouched in front of a garden bed Qing hadn’t seen before, like it had been newly made, watching something.

The smaller one—Jayeo—whipped her head around.

Jayeo’s unusually dark eyes swelled wide.

“O—oooh...!”

Jayeo came pattering over with tiny feet—TATATATATA—then sprang and threw her whole body.

A leap of trust!

BANG!

Since Jayeo had been eating elixirs, playing around, and even training martial arts, that “leap” was less a hug and more a full-body tackle.

But Qing’s body was beyond human—number one under heaven, strength incarnate—how could a little kid’s sincere body-check shake her even a little?

“Kyih! Kyihihih! Hihih...!”

The child clinging to her rubbed her cheeks against Qing’s, letting out a stream of wicked giggles.

If it weren’t for the laughter that sounded like a demon mocking you in hell, it would’ve been a deeply moving reunion.

“Our Jayeo, have you been well?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I slept a hundred nights.”

“Oh, you slept a hundred nights?”

At that moment, the woman who’d been watching the garden bed with her walked over slowly, eyes shining with tears in an emotional expression.

“Little Sister’s hereee?”

If you had to be precise, it was closer to, Little siiister’s heeereee?—that languid, drawn-out way of speaking.

But despite that mannerism, she had a face so indecently beautiful it was obscene. A sexy face.

And above all—

Wow. Breasts. Massive breasts.

Someone might say, What the hell is an old woman thinking? But men’s intelligence drops sharply in front of big breasts.

And Heema was a temptress with a heart grand enough to drop the IQ of every man in the world.

Heema’s gaze on Qing was downright lewd.

No—Heema’s eyes were always lewd. That wasn’t new.

It was more like... she wanted something. Like she was jealous.

Me too. Do it to me too.

Why not?

“Want to join?”

“Yeah!”

Their level of response was kind of the same, but—

Heema stepped in and hugged them tight, and just like that, sister–sister–daughter formed a triangle pile, and a family reunion scene opened up...

About fifteen minutes later—

Somewhere along the way, they’d missed the timing to let go. Heema was still hugging them tight, and now it was awkward to stop.

“Mm. Should we stop here?”

“Yeah.”

“Our Jayeo, let me see your face. How much have you grown. Let’s see, let’s see—our Jayeo, you’re completely a young lady now—mm, a young lady...”

Qing trailed off.

What...? Was her face always this round?

Instead of the baby fat on her cheeks slimming down, it had gotten even fuller.

Why is there more baby fat? Have you been drinking milk somewhere?

No, seriously—she definitely felt heavier.

Qing’s eyebrow twitched.

No—how much have you been feeding her?

You really handed a fish over to a cat. Enjoying that irresponsible pleasure to the fullest, huh.

She didn’t even need to see it to know. Up top, the Priestess Order people. Down below, the Seol Family Trading House people.

Wouldn’t they have stuffed her with everything they had?

It was always like that.

Other people’s puppies were the best puppies. Other people’s cats were the best cats.

Why?

Because you could go, awww, so cute, and dump snacks on them without caring whether they got chubby or developed bad habits.

Discipline was the parents’ job. You got the happiness of loving them with zero responsibility, no consequences.

Still, Qing wasn’t exactly strict either.

Well... she’s cute, so isn’t it fine?

If a kid eats a lot and stays healthy, that’s what matters. Who cares if she gains a little weight. If she grows up and wants to slim down later, she’ll do it herself.

Dad doesn’t want much.

Reading? It’s fine. If she can write her name, that’s enough. Intelligence is something you’re born with—can’t help it.

Martial arts? What martial arts. People live just fine without martial arts. Physical talent is also something you’re born with—can’t help it.

Jayeo. Just be healthy.

“Oh, but Heema—can you stay here? Did the Sect Leader allow it?”

“Hm? Mmm-yeah.”

Heema’s “yeah” was yes. Her “mmm-yeah” was no.

Someone might complain about a grown adult talking like that, but—

If a man did it, he’d be Murim public enemy number one. If a pretty woman did it, it was innocent, natural, born aegyo.

Even better.

“Huh. But Grandpa said you were going to train here? You didn’t get permission?”

“Yeah. He told me to come up, see my niece a bit, and stuff.”

“The Sect Leader did?”

“Mmm-yeah.”

“...???”

Talking to Heema often ended up like this, but this time, where exactly had the conversation fallen into a labyrinth?

She was going to train here, but the Sect Leader didn’t allow it?

What—did Grandpa send her up to look after Jayeo?

No. That couldn’t be it. Grandpa had been someone high-ranking in the Demonic Cult. Would he not know a sect’s rules?

“Who did?”

“Little Sister’s master.”

“Your master?”

“Yeah.”

“Your master sent a letter?”

“Mmm-yeah.”

“Then...?”

“Last time I brought Jayeo back, things outside were scary, so she told me not to go back and forth—just stay here. And... she said she’d look at my martial arts too.”

“Your master came back?”

“Yeah.”

“Where is she?”

“Yeah. There?”

Heema pointed toward the inner quarters.

Lightning crashed through Qing’s mind.

Oh.

Master.

She’s back.