Chapter 801: I Don’t Like This Trend (5)

Lord Physician’s words made Qing’s face crumple.

These bastards—there’s nothing left to steal, so they steal food?

Are these even people?

And it made her even angrier because she was Qing.

For her, it hit a kind of reverse scale—a raw, untouchable nerve—because of those old miserable memories of being the poorest of the poor, shoveling down things worse than dirt.

Moonlit Night was going to feast for the first time in a while.

There was no way some Mysterious Realm master would pop out from among the riffraff who had nothing better to do than tear food out of the hands of the poor.

Qing’s gaze turned savage, slaughter right in front of her.

“Old sir, don’t worry. Because today—ah, do you know what day it is today?”

“What are you talking about all of a sudden?”

“Today is their death anniversary, and every year today is their memorial service. How dare they steal the rice of pitiful sick people? Today, they all die.”

And then—BONK!

Lord Physician flicked Qing on the forehead.

But it didn’t even register as a shock to Qing. Instead, the recoil made Lord Physician clench his fist.

Of course it hurt.

He’d just hammered on the skull of someone with transcendent durability—an ice-and-iron headbone that had weathered ten thousand cold seasons—with the hand of a mere old Therapist.

“Ghh—no, heavenly maiden, what kind of head is that? A real stone head. You rattle off medical texts like it’s nothing, too.”

“Huh. Ah, it huuurts.”

It was etiquette to at least act like it hurt when an old sir hit you, so Qing rubbed her bangs with a totally unhurt expression.

It was so obviously an act that Lord Physician’s wrinkled face gained another wrinkle.

“That won’t do. I made you memorize medical texts to save people, and you run around saying you’ll kill them, this and that. Even if it’s just words, you don’t put that in your mouth.”

“Ah.”

Qing blinked.

She wasn’t exactly surprised.

She was from a future civilized society, meaning she could experience countless kinds of human beings secondhand through all kinds of stories and media.

She’d just realized something anew.

Ah. So that’s what kind of person he was.

Don’t hit with even a flower? Nonviolence?

Life is absolutely dignified and precious?

Normally, Qing would’ve launched into her favorite philosophy, the doctrine that human nature is good—how Master Mencius said all people are naturally good, and therefore if a creature isn’t good, it isn’t a person but a beast, so it should be beaten to death.

But Lord Physician was a true healer—a sage whose immense virtuous merit shone.

A wandering physician who went as far as living on the road just to save the needy telling her not to kill wasn’t strange at all.

If anything, it was only natural.

“Mm. Old sir. Guys like that unorthodox trash aren’t the type to listen just because you talk nice to them. If you talk, they listen even less.”

It was the unorthodox lot’s bizarre pride.

Getting beaten and then kneeling was fine.

But if you yielded politely with words?

They’d get mocked for tucking their tails without even fighting—that was how unorthodox sects worked.

“Hah. So what? You’re determined to see blood?”

“Hey, not that much. But you do have to beat them up a bit. They might pull this crap again later, so I’m planning to just make them limp. That way, even after we leave, the people here won’t have trouble later.”

“Mm. A limp. The back of the knee?”

“Yes. The back of the knee.”

It was a vicious conversation between people who studied medicine.

A limp and the back of the knee.

Where Qing came from, they called it a cruciate ligament.

“Well, if it’s that much.”

Lord Physician nodded.

He agreed surprisingly fast.

Like that saying—better to live, even if you have to roll in horse shit—it seemed like as long as they didn’t die, it was fine.

“Alright, you heard her. Let’s go. You know what day it is today? The day justice is set straight in the rivers and lakes. Heh—justice is so dead.”

Qing’s mouth corners were already splitting wide, ready to turn vicious.

*****

Qing’s ability to act was practically the greatest under heaven.

She did first and thought later.

Once something stuck in her head, she charged without caring about consequences—so even if something went wrong halfway through, it was already done, and she always lost out.

This kind of person should never, ever look in the direction of gacha pulls or investments.

But.

It had been a while since she’d had a chance to feel the satisfying hit of her hand, and Qing’s eyes had already flipped—so she strode off toward Jangyun Sect in quick, impatient steps, and then—

“Mm. But where is Jangyun Sect?”

“...You weren’t going while knowing?”

“How would I know? It’s my first time here too. Zhuge—where are those Jangyun Sect bastards?”

If you don’t know, you ask.

Though asking Zhuge I-hyeon didn’t mean you’d get a proper answer back.

Still, he was Zhuge. Maybe he’d know?

And Zhuge I-hyeon, as always, did not disappoint.

“Elder Sister. It’s the same for me—this is my first time here. How would I know where some no-name local unorthodox sect is. Hm. This way.”

He said he didn’t know, and immediately took the lead.

“Huh. You said you didn’t know?”

“Even so, the ‘lucky spot’ those who claim a town as their turf would choose is always about the same. The smaller the unorthodox sect, the more they puff themselves up—building one fancy manor beyond their station. If we head down the main road, won’t it show itself?”

For a party marching to raid someone else’s sect, the mood was remarkably relaxed.

But it had to be.

Qing was a master of the Flowering Realm—some local unorthodox sect like this, she could flip it over on her own.

Peng Daesan, Tang Nanna, and Zhuge I-hyeon were precious direct-line heirs of the Five Great Clans, so they had nothing to fear from some backwater unorthodox sect.

And even in raw strength, they had several peak experts—one Flowering Realm and three Transcendent peaks was basically on par with the strength of a typical local sect.

Of course, in the middle of all that, Seol Iri and Gyeon Pohee weren’t thinking anything.

If Qing went, they followed. That was it.

Zhuge I-hyeon—ranked, even if only near the bottom, among those with names—set directions briskly, and as they followed his back, before they knew it, they were passing the tall wall of a large manor.

As they approached the roofed main gate, a plaque with impressively vigorous calligraphy bore two huge characters:

“TAEJANGYUN.”

Qing hammered on the gate.

Each time her fist struck—THUD THUD!

It was loud enough to sound like the door was about to break.

But there was no response.

“HELLO! We’ve come to give you some wise words!”

She shouted too, but still no answer.

If someone said they’d come to give you “wise words,” of course even people who were inside would pretend they weren’t.

But people who came to “give you wise words” were always persistent.

Qing planted both palms flat against the gate.

She dipped her waist like she was about to shove like a bull, and then—

CREEEEAK—

Qing’s strength wasn’t normal.

The wooden wedge in the hinge finally gave out, popping free, and the gate slowly toppled backward.

BANG! The door panel hit the ground, and the boom rang out.

Qing stepped over the fallen gate, raised her voice, and yelled.

“HEY! YOU RUNNING YOUR BUSINESS LIKE DOG SHIT IN HERE! TELL THE OWNER TO COME OUT!”

Behind her, the party exchanged looks.

She’s having the time of her life.

*****

“Sect Leader, it’s them!”

“Hm. Isn’t this too fast?”

Jangyun Sect’s leader, Cho Sam-il, scratched his jaw.

But he didn’t look that flustered.

Because he’d expected they would come.

He’d heard the report that Lord Physician had brought young martial artists with him.

Young martial artists who’d follow Lord Physician into a sealed zone where a strange plague was spreading.

Naturally, they were from righteous sects—thoughtless kids who called themselves knights-errant.

And didn’t Lord Physician consider them a thorn in his side?

Young martial artists were, by nature, reckless and ignorant of the rivers-and-lakes’ customs, committing acts on nothing but hot blood.

So before long, they’d take orders from that crazy old man and come charging in.

Still.

Even so, wasn’t this too fast?

It was like they’d run over the instant the old man opened his mouth.

“Tsk. Righteous-sect bastards. The moment they hear ‘unorthodox sect,’ they assume you’re evil by default.”

“Sect Leader?”

“Enough. I should see their faces myself.”

Cho Sam-il stood.

When he walked out to the front yard, he saw the backs of his sect members lined up in a long row.

Pushing through them, he finally saw the young martial artists.

A woman in a veil.

A man.

And a hulking muscular brute.

Three beauties enough to make your eyes spin—

And... what, a kid?

It was then.

The woman whose face was covered—but who drew every eye with the enormous presence above the belt cinched at her waist—spat out a sloppy line.

“You the owner here?”

Cho Sam-il’s temper surged.

Even other unorthodox sects didn’t use that kind of rude speech.

It wasn’t something you said to the leader of a sect—

Unless you were picking a fight.

But Cho Sam-il swallowed it down.

Judging by their appearance, they were rich-born kids.

And if they were roaming the dangerous rivers and lakes with beauties like that, they weren’t ordinary youths.

And if they’d even brought a child, that meant they had the confidence—and the skill—to storm in even with a child in tow.

If someone provoked you this openly, you could only shrink back even more.

“Ahem. I am Cho Sam-il, leader of Jangyun Sect. Where have you honored guests come from?”

“I am the Civil-Engineering Fairy! Once a carpenter, once a fairy—hm? Fairy? No, not fairy, a woman physician. Thus do the people call me the Civil-Engineering Fairy! You filthy things! How dare you exploit and loot the poor who groan while fighting sickness—after that, do you still dare call yourselves people!”

Civil-Engineering Fairy?

What the hell was that?

It was a title he’d never heard of, and there was no way such a title existed.

In other words, it was open insult.

It was a provocation so blatant it was practically telling him to rush her right now—so instead, Cho Sam-il’s anger cooled.

“Ahem. It seems there is some misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding my ass. What misunderstanding is there?”

“Our sect is currently closed.”

“...Huh.”

The veiled woman’s momentum visibly weakened.

Cho Sam-il spoke with a wronged tone.

“Exploit and loot, you say. That, too, is a misunderstanding. Is it not the law of the martial world? It is only natural that we maintain order in the region and receive a certain token of sincerity. But Lord Physician said—how can we demand sincerity from pitiful commoners suffering under sickness—and I felt great shame. So we decided to close the sect’s gates.”

“...Really?”

“To be honest, ‘shame’ aside, there is no reason to make an enemy of someone like Lord Physician. People can curse us for being unorthodox, fine, but if we defy the will of a man whose name is known across the Central Plains, how could we bear the aftermath? So we closed our gates.”

Closing the gates was, in shop terms, a temporary shutdown.

If you locked the main gate and did nothing, the sect members of a gate-closed sect could no longer act in the sect’s name from that point on.

Behind the veil, a frown carved into Qing’s brow.

That was what the old sir had said, too.

When he told them not to do it, they answered that they wouldn’t—and then after that, it felt like they were stealing in secret.

But whether they truly took protection fees from the sick after that—Lord Physician only had suspicion, no hard proof.

No matter how he asked the patients, they insisted it wasn’t them, that nothing had been taken.

But what if the patients truly hadn’t been squeezed?

Lord Physician said everyone was drooping because their grain was being taken, so they ate less—but if you were sealed in, unable to work, locked up all day, wouldn’t even a healthy person droop?

So then...

Qing straightened the loose stance she’d been standing in on one leg.

“Are you sure about that?”

“On my parents’ names, I am.”

On his parents’ names?

In professional terms, that was Eomchang.

This wouldn’t do.

Given Jangyun Sect’s evil karma, it wasn’t something she could trust.

And it didn’t feel like Lord Physician had mistaken things either—so this smelled like a trick: hide behind the excuse of “closing the gates” to dodge the immediate crisis.

But she couldn’t be sure.

That was why she’d planned to cripple them so they could never do it again.

Still, it felt wrong to strike just because they were unorthodox trash with high evil karma—and because beating them up would be fun.

What if, even at a one-in-ten-thousand chance, they were truly innocent?

So then.

She had to pull back first and gather evidence—proof, not suspicion.

“Ahem. For now, we’ll withdraw, but—”

At that, an irritating smile rose on Cho Sam-il’s face.

“Ah. Civil-Engineering Fairy, was it? Once a carpenter? Then fix the gate before you go.”