Chapter 740: The Great Instructor Ximen Qing (12)

The Blood Cult infiltrator trio had clearly stepped into late second-rate since the outing.

They had swallowed that massive spirit medicine and had a master’s direct qi-guidance run true qi through every meridian of their bodies, so their inner power circulation was smooth.

Whether it was because of the properties of the main ingredient, or because of some secret of the maker, or simply because the pellet itself had been so big it was hard to swallow in a single bite, the sheer quantity of inner power they now held already exceeded ordinary first-rate.

Only, martial arts were thorough individual achievement, so if they couldn’t spit sword-qi, they would stay stuck in second-rate forever anyway.

Still, the difference between a third-rate martial artist and a second-rate one was huge.

A third-rate martial artist had imbued their body with qi through breathing and storing, so they became an extremely healthy, extremely strong commoner.

Of course, that didn’t mean you could really compare them to commoners, since they knew how to handle weapons and did not hesitate to hurt people.

But from the realm where the dantian settled completely and the qi channels stretched out as a second-rate, their inner power boosted raw strength, stamina, reaction speed, hearing, vision, touch, and so on in a single stride, and from there the gap to commoners became absolute.

So it was only natural that the trio’s achievement had risen dramatically.

Except—? Their achievement had gone up, and yet—?

“Brother Jo, congratulations on your achievement. Now that I’m the one still wandering behind, I’m embarrassed to keep calling you ‘little brother.’ Do you, perhaps, have some kind of secret?”

“That would be talent. Do you really have to ask?”

“......?”

“In the end it’s all talent. The ones who are going to become experts, become experts anyway. What ‘secret’ is there? If you have talent, you get there fast.”

He didn’t say the rest out loud, but there was no need to hear it to know: someone without talent—someone like you—won’t.

“......”

“Why, got something to say? Not that you would.”

“Where are you going?”

“I should swing the sword a few more times. If you just sit around once the day’s schedule’s over, you’re going to stay right where you are.”

Jo Hyeonil said that and headed out.

The cadet left behind clicked his tongue, dumbfounded and offended.

“Tch. Never took him for that kind of guy.”

Because Jo Hyeonil, who usually didn’t talk much and was quiet and mild, had been a fairly big shock to the cadet.

Every word had been technically correct, but to change his expression and take on that attitude the instant he achieved something?

If Qing had seen it, she would have clicked her tongue too.

How could anyone know what tomorrow would bring, and how could one person’s martial achievement be the same as another’s? Today he might be beneath you, but tomorrow he might become an expert—martial realization was that kind of ungraspable domain.

Even if it weren’t, sure, you could ignore and insult someone to enjoy a moment of petty superiority, but what good was there in going out of your way to make enemies.

That said, the cadet didn’t fall into deep discouragement or suffer some great shock either. How many of these bastards were there in the Central Plains alone?

He’d just misjudged the guy from the beginning.

The cadet shook his head, lay down on the bunk for a moment, then soon let out a long sigh, grabbed his wooden sword, and went outside.

Fine, this was disgusting enough to go train over.

If you looked at it from the result alone, it was positive in its own way.

He had just read the person wrong, but the cadet had seen more than enough guys whose martial arts were only a bit higher than his but who strutted and acted like insufferable bastards.

Especially the vaguely “expert” types camped around second-rate and first-rate; they were often like that, whereas the truly refined, famous experts instead showed their dignity through calm manners and generosity.

It had been the same back in Qing’s homeland: if you swapped martial arts out for wealth, the pattern fit perfectly.

How many people were there who thought having more wealth meant having the right to scorn and insult the poorer—especially those with that ambiguous level of wealth.

And the hallmark of such people:

Before someone superior to them, they became (no matter what they felt inside) obsequious, their backs bowing and their voices turning slick.

So of course they would become all polite in front of the Heavenly Flower Sword, a super-transcendent expert (or so people said).

“Instructor, I heard you suffered a grave injury in your duel with the Minor Water Demon Marquis.”

See that? Qing’s lips curved into an elegant smile.

For the record, Qing’s smile was not elegant.

Just like her straightforward stride, her smile too was straightforward, so when it came from genuine feeling it was like a flower field bursting into full bloom across your entire field of vision, dazzlingly gorgeous enough to steal a person’s soul right out of them.

Only, she had studied and learned Ximen-Surin-Style Beauty Bearing’s elegant smile—the faintly shadowed, slightly-wincing smile that had become the Central Plains’ eternal ideal ever since the appearance of Xi Shi—so she knew how to put one on.

Which meant, the more elegant Qing’s smile became, the more it was something she had put on after throwing away her natural attitude.

Minor Water Demon Marquis, my ass, what?

Some random bastard dared to attach a noble ‘Marquis’ title to the Minor Water Witch—the hideous human butcher, Demon-Head among Demon-Heads, the representative of everything most demon-headed among the Demon-Heads?

Normally she would just think he’d picked it up somewhere and let it go, but the one saying it now was someone she had already found suspicious and was watching, so it felt all the more meaningful.

Hadn’t they said the Minor Water Witch was with the Blood Cult?

The Blood Cult brats were calling Minor Water Demon something or other the Demon King, so maybe they were exalting the Minor Water Witch as the Minor Water Demon Marquis.

“As far as I know, that... penetra-campaign was extremely intense, so... is your insides all right, Instructor?”

It was infiltration campaign, not penetration campaign.

“This instructor is still in convalescence. However, this instructor is putting every last bit of strength into working it out, so the cadet can ease his worries.”

“How could I not be worried! The Instructor Ximen I respect most is in danger because of that vicious Minor Water Cold-Poison, so my worries pierce the heavens and I can’t sleep at night, and whenever I think of it my eyes fill with tears and blur my sight...”

It was a bit over the top, but he was saying he was worried about her. And it wasn’t like Qing only had one or two people around her who acted over the top; by that standard, this was on the mild side.

So Qing tilted her head, just a little.

Or not? Was it just a misunderstanding? Lately, counseling reports had said his attitude had gotten worse, that he’d become more of an asshole to the weak and more of a strong–weak–weak, weak-crushing type.

“Therefore, um, this is...”

“Hmm? Cadet Jo? What is this?”

“It is a spirit medicine handed down in my family. This is the Life-and-Death Remedy Pellet of the Life-and-Death God of Medicine, which is said to cure any internal injury whatsoever, and I wished for Instructor Ximen to accept it...”

The Life-and-Death God of Medicine was a figure from roughly five hundred years back, and as you could guess just from that grand epithet, he was considered one of the greatest of all senior colleagues in the physician world.

Qing too, as a female doctor in her own right, knew his stature well, since the Old Doctor had made her read the Life-and-Death God of Medicine’s medical texts.

He was used the same way as a phrase like Hua Tuo.

Even Hua Tuo couldn’t save this one.

Even the Life-and-Death God of Medicine couldn’t save this one.

“Goodness, there’s no need to go so far...”

Qing had opened a counseling slot because he’d said there was something urgent he wished to tell her.

These days, countless counseling requests were flooding in one after another, so she had assumed “something urgent” meant another counseling request.

She hadn’t imagined it was a tribute offering.

However—

“I understand Cadet Jo’s feelings. But this instructor cannot accept such a precious thing, so I will accept only your heart.”

Qing made her intention to decline clear.

First, Qing had at least enough shame not to rip off a background-less ronin, with no proper master, by swallowing his heirloom whole. Better to suck the liver out of a flea.

Second, for an instructor to accept such a precious item from a cadet was against professional ethics.

And more than anything, it was suspicious.

Remedy pellets were a general term for pellets that treated internal injuries, and internal injuries belonged to the domain of inner power, so they weren’t something that could be made with ordinary medical ingredients.

In other words, they were spirit medicine by definition.

No matter how much of a family heirloom it was, would someone really sit on spirit medicine and stay stuck in third-rate?

On top of that, when the person handing over this spirit medicine was someone whose realm and bad karma had jumped together after swallowing some weird medicine, no matter how kindly you tried to interpret it, it was suspicious.

“That is not so. Please do not refuse. My heart aches too much, and like this I can’t focus on training at all.”

“If it is a Life-and-Death God of Medicine Remedy Pellet, then it is no different from an extra spare life. A cadet does not lightly bring out such a precious thing. It could be dangerous if you did. But your heart is truly appreciated.”

“T-that’s just it, I think you don’t quite understand, but this is an incredible spirit medicine in and of itself, you see; not only does it heal internal injuries, Instructor might even be able to glimpse the next realm because of it.”

“This instructor knows that. It is because it is precious that I cannot accept it.”

At Qing’s refusal, Jo Hyeonil was plainly flustered.

He had simply never imagined he would be refused. Hadn’t Cell Leader Dan said so at the beginning.

There was no martial artist in the world who refused spirit medicine, and if you didn’t hand it over of your own accord they would try to take it by force, so they would go mad for it and gulp it down.

“If, if you would just please accept it, my heart, my heart would be... I just can’t be at ease!”

“Even if your heart is a little uneasy, you should keep it. That is the kind of treasure it is.”

“It’s very uneasy! Please!”

“No, I said it’s fine—”

“No! You must accept it!”

So back and forth they went.

It was a tight tug-of-war between someone desperately trying to shove the box into her sleeve, and someone determined not to take it.

Until finally—

“Fine! I’ll just leave it here and go!”

“Cadet? Cadet Jo! Cadet Jo Hyeonil!”

Jo Hyeonil slammed the wooden case down and bolted out like the wind.

Qing picked the case up anyway, because the whole thing was getting more suspicious by the moment.

A precious thing like this, forced on her?

And, without meaning to look down on him—

If a short-term contract worker living day to day suddenly claimed to have a pure gold calf heirloom handed down in the family?

And then gave it away to someone else?

That would be strange no matter how you sliced it.

If it was a Blood Cult trick, though, it made sense. Just like last time, it might be one of those parasitic salamander things, or maybe just poison.

Qing opened the case.

Unlike that Blue-Wave Pellet she had seen before, it wasn’t bright blood-red, and instead a not-at-all-ordinary medicinal fragrance seeped coolly into her lungs, hmm, there was no fishiness or meat smell, but she still couldn’t tell...

Qing stared down at the pellet for a while, then picked up a hand mirror.

Whatever. I’ll find out if I eat it.

If it was poison, a sharp, glorious flavor would spread through her mouth; if it had a parasitic salamander in it, Bottlesnout would just be getting a friend.

Her bad karma going up a little—when her good karma bank was where it was—wasn’t exactly a big deal.

And if it all turned out to be just her misunderstanding and this really was something given in pure goodwill, she could always pass him some ownerless martial art or other in return.

Then Qing popped the pellet into her mouth in one big CHOMP.

The fragrance exploded the moment it entered her mouth.

As spirit medicine did, it melted away with a soft hiss, and she swallowed it as naturally as if she were drinking the fragrance itself. A cool energy spread out afterward.

Mirror check. Good karma unchanged.

That meant nothing weird had been inside.

Qing sat in lotus and guided her energy.

The true qi saturated with medicinal power passed through her dantian and then flowed out through her entire body, soaking into the qi channels and eight extraordinary meridians that Heaven-Breaking Demonic Qi’s rampage had left a mess, stroking them gently as if to soothe them.

What the hell? This was genuinely good medicine.

Tch, I shouldn’t have taken it. I should have saved it and fed it to one of the kids next time they got hurt. I’m the type who gets better if you just spit on it and leave it alone anyway.

But she had already eaten it.

So, well, since she had, she might as well make sure it didn’t go to waste and use it to store qi properly.

Qing was deep in concentration, focused on absorbing the Remedy Pellet, when it happened.

Suddenly, an alien sensation stirred in her belly.

Something tiny and living was stretching its limbs with a little wriggle. Qing cautiously felt around its shape with her qi-sense.

A roundish but broad head, a sharp tail with a little hook at the end, four stubby, somehow crudely shaped little legs.

Bottlesnout was No.1, so, hmm. Shotglass would be a good name for this one. That should let me pull out twice the booze.

Well, you could call that a net gain.

But a gain was a gain, and Qing’s brows twitched with her eyes still shut.

That little bastard fed me a parasitic salamander?

Sure, there had been days when she’d eaten things even worse than that to live, but, hmm, thinking of those times was actually making her a little hungry.

It was at that moment.

The two parasitic salamanders in Qing’s belly met.

There was, to put it mildly, a bit of a difference in their weight class.

Bottlesnout, after all, was no ordinary poison anymore.

He had eaten, without exception, every kind of poison that a Corpse-Blood Poison Body had accumulated—plant poisons, animal poisons, paralysis and Energy-Scattering, the poppies she’d once enjoyed, the dank aphrodisiac family, even the corpse-toxins built up from munching on rotten meat.

Seeing a much younger member of its own kind suddenly appear, Bottlesnout happily wriggled closer—

Oh? What’s this, are they going to get along and be friends?

—Bottlesnout opened his mouth wide and CHOMPED down on Shotglass’s head.

“Eh.”

Qing let out her characteristic dumb little exclamation.