Chapter 848: If You’re Going to Kill One Person, Dig Two Graves (6)

The people of the Central Plains love gold more than anything.

The second thing they love most is watching a fight.

So how do you think it felt, after hearing the vivid eyewitness accounts of that scene—some female master, saving a couple plague-wretch brats, and taking the boss beggar’s arm off in one clean slash?

The people of Jinping County, especially, were devastated.

How could I not have been there at that moment?!

How I resent this world!

Because Jinping was a backwater of a backwater, the farthest edge of the frontier—hardly anyone passed through unless they were merchants.

And on top of that, the Five Poison Sect had kept a tight grip on the place for ages, so even someone causing trouble was rare. It was a peaceful city.

A martial artist’s blade fight was a precious spectacle you’d be lucky to see once a year.

To have that spectacle happen in the very same city—and still miss it—what could be more bitter and tragic?

But that regret didn’t last long.

“Wait. She saved the plague-wretch brats?”

“You think she’s just going to save them and stop there?”

“Right! Yeah. Then she’s going to storm the Jong Merchant House and tear it up, isn’t she?”

And then, as the decent townsfolk of Jinping County looked at one another, no one even had to say who moved first—people sprang to their feet.

It happened all over the city at once.

And before long, an oddly large crowd had gathered in front of the Red River Pavilion at Jinping’s Finest Inn, whispering in excitement.

“Is it true that master’s in there?”

“I asked Inn Waiter Jeong. He said it’s real.”

“She’s going to storm the Jong Merchant House, right? So when?”

“How would I know? Could be today, could be tomorrow. That’s up to the master, isn’t it?”

“I hope she comes out soon. I saw water leaking into my rice paddy—gotta go patch it fast, but... ah, hell with it....”

No one knew when the master would move, but they were determined to keep waiting until she did.

They were even ready to abandon their farming—just to see one good blade fight.

If the master didn’t move for days, it wouldn’t be just one or two households facing serious trouble with the spring planting.

Fortunately, the master—Qing—appeared quickly.

On that fact alone, you could say Qing had already piled up enough merit to save a third of the season’s work for a few farms in Jinping County (Jinping County did three harvests a year).

“O-Oh... she—she’s out.”

“She really is a female knight with a huge sword.”

Qing stiffened, caught off guard.

A crowd had packed the street outside the inn—when had this happened, and why?

“EEK.”

The younger beggar, Jong Munyeok, startled and clung tight, burying his face against Qing’s side.

That thin trembling coming through his small body told you everything about what people had done to him up to now.

“Shh. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

As Qing patted Jong Munyeok’s head, her eyes sharpened on the spot.

Come to think of it... weren’t all these people bastards?

They had to know the things that happened at the Jong Merchant House were obviously wrong.

But fine. Sure.

Silence wasn’t the same as being an accomplice.

The lives of ordinary people weren’t exactly comfortable, and was it ever easy to be the only one who stepped forward when everyone else was shoving someone down?

Especially with the Central Plains habit of emphasizing “us” at the neighborhood and village level.

When everyone around you is nodding along, it takes an absurd amount of courage and strength to shout “no” alone—and act on it.

Disgusting, maybe, but not something you could punish as a crime. Yeah. Being stingy wasn’t a crime.

And how long had Qing been living in the Central Plains now?

Her surprise passed fast. She grasped the situation right away.

Fine. Let them tag along.

The more people who saw it, the safer the Jong brothers would be after they took their house back—no one would dare start muttering about Bai people smallpox and trying to hurt them.

So Qing lowered her voice, slow and deliberate, as if making sure everyone heard.

It sounded exactly like an old person’s way of speaking.

“Come now. Let’s go. Lead the way.”

Honestly, did she even need a guide?

The crowd had already cleared a path in the direction they thought she should go.

As Qing followed Jong Munun’s lead, the people of Jinping surged after her—RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE.

And so they arrived at the east side of Jinping—at the Jong Merchant House!

It wasn’t some towering palace, but it was a good-sized estate. Beneath its main gate stood three martial men in familiar uniforms, striking a pose like they owned the world.

Those uniforms—the ones Qing had gotten sick of seeing in the mountains—were Five Poison Sect uniforms.

“Benefactor, those are Five Poison Sect martial artists. Th-then... we’re really okay, so you don’t have to pick a fight with the Five Poison Sect, there’s no need to—urk.”

“What a fine thing to say.”

Qing ruffled Jong Munun’s head—pat, pat.

Kids’ heads really did sit at the perfect height for patting.

But still... right. The Five Poison Sect.

How had she not thought of them?

Qing’s objective had been to watch the Blood Cult’s movements while they wore the Five Poison Sect’s skin—until support arrived from the Diancang Sect, or until Jegal Ihyeon sent word that the Diancang Sect had refused.

If they did something suspicious and horrific, she’d stop it. If not, she’d observe. If they ran, she’d track where they went and chase.

Directly colliding with Blood Cult trash wearing the Five Poison Sect’s mask would be... inconvenient.

Qing’s brain spun fast.

With the kind of intelligence spike she only ever got when she was about to ruin someone—okay, if there’s a pretext, and there are all these witnesses, if she cleared these guys out, could the Five Poison Sect mask—damn it, too long—could she force a situation where the Five Poison Sect–Blood Cult couldn’t step out and retaliate?

Qing stopped at an awkward distance, so the Five Poison Sect warriors blocking the gate couldn’t easily speak first, either.

If she looked like she was going to enter, they could tell her to stop.

If she walked past, they could assume she was just passing by.

But she’d stopped dead in front of them—ambiguous, head-on—doing nothing except stroking the brats’ heads on either side of her.

After a moment like that—

Qing finally strode forward.

Only then did a Five Poison Sect warrior clear his throat—AHEM—and bark in a booming voice.

“HALT! This is a business under the protection of the Great Five Poison Sect. For what purpose have you come to the Jong Merchant House?”

“Hmm. You’re Five Poison Sect disciples?”

From behind the face veil, Qing grinned.

Right—hadn’t that sect leader bastard been screaming about fighting to the last and charging in with everyone... well, not literally “long live,” but something close?

They were Blood Cult trash wearing Five Poison Sect uniforms.

“But you’re faces I’ve never seen. Which generation are you? Whose disciples? If you’ve seen an elder, you should offer your greetings first.”

“Huh?” “What?”

Two idiots blurted out stunned noises.

Of course they did. They hadn’t expected that at all.

“I asked you which generation. Whose disciples are you?”

“Uh, well...”

“Why can’t you answer? Are you doing something you can’t stand behind?”

The two warriors glanced at each other.

Some kind of silent exchange passed between them.

“I am Jang Seonghwan of the second generation.”

“I am Kang Ryeomeon of the second generation. May I ask who you are, Senior?”

The crowd watching tinted with faint disappointment.

It didn’t feel like it was going to turn into a blade fight.

So she was some older master tied to the Five Poison Sect, apparently.

Qing’s broad-brimmed hat tipped, as if puzzled.

“Was there someone like you in the second generation? But I’ve never seen your faces. What, exactly, is the meaning of this?”

Both of them visibly panicked.

Inside, Qing whooped in triumph.

Yep. Blood Cult bastards.

She’d wondered if they’d siphoned off a few disciples even while shouting about a total charge... though, judging by how viciously the sect had thrown themselves in, it had really looked like they had no retreat at all.

“Uh—th-that is, we joined later—”

“AHEM! Hu Cheonchi and I had a BIG fight! After that, we CUT FRIENDSHIP TIES and became STRANGERS. So even if I pass by, I have NO INTENTION of stopping in. That’s EXACTLY the kind of relationship it is!”

Qing roared, putting bizarre emphasis on every chunk.

She was speaking for everyone to hear.

If those Blood Cult bastards wearing Five Poison Sect uniforms got nervous about being exposed and came sniffing around, that would be a problem.

“This is clearly strange! How can second-generation disciples be taken in after third-generation disciples are already being trained!”

“Uh... the sect leader personally took us in—”

It wasn’t that rare for a new disciple to skip generations and be folded into a higher rank.

Qing herself was a living example, wasn’t she?

After becoming Ximen Surin’s disciple, she’d gotten placed at the same level as the head of the Priestess Order for free.

But Qing didn’t give them time to explain.

She drove the point deeper.

“Are you truly Five Poison Sect disciples? Or are you impersonators?”

“What do you mean by that? Even if you are acquainted with the sect leader, you have no right to insult us like this.”

“Hm? Is that so? Then let me ask you one thing. Among the Grand Elders, what is the honored name of the fourth elder?”

“What?”

“No matter how ‘later’ you claim you joined, you can’t tell me you never learned the honored names of the sect’s venerable elders. What is his name?”

“Th-that...”

The two warriors read each other’s eyes.

Because how would they know the name of a Grand Elder from someone else’s sect—especially not the fourth one, not even a previous sect leader?

The crowd rustled with murmurs.

They’d been a little disappointed, but the way things were unfolding looked strange.

Don’t tell me... the Jong Merchant House couldn’t secure Five Poison Sect cooperation, so they set up fakes?

But would anyone really do something that stupid?

“Why can’t you answer! Come now—so you really dared to impersonate the Five Poison Sect!”

The two “Five Poison Sect disciples”—Blood Cult—panicked hard.

They’d memorized a few basics to play the part, but the Five Poison Sect had how many Grand Elders? Who would memorize all of it?

In that instant, one of them dropped to his knees with a THUMP.

“I apologize! This disciple was unworthy, and I failed to remember even the honored name of a venerable elder!”

Oh?

So that was how he wanted to play it.

He had some presence. Quick on his feet.

But Qing exploded louder.

A shouting match always went to the one with the louder voice—and this wasn’t for her. It was for all the spectators.

“You didn’t ‘fail to remember’—you never learned it in the first place! Because you’re impersonators!”

“That’s not true! If you inquire with the main sect, you can verify our identities!”

“You rolling your eyes around like that—are you trying to buy time so you can run?!”

“Truly not! Then come with us to the Five Poison Sect, and we can confirm—”

“Shut up! Fine—first-generation disciples. You can at least remember your masters’ generation. What is the ninth name of your first generation?”

“Th-that...”

The Blood Cult warrior’s eyes just rolled around.

Because he didn’t know.

To be honest, Qing didn’t know either.

She was just throwing out questions that sounded like the kind of thing they wouldn’t know.

“What’s the name of the lake at the Sect Leader Hall? The one Hu Cheonchi’s grandfather named himself!”

“Th-that...”

Of course, Qing had no idea whether such a lake even existed, or whether a grandfather named it, or anything else.

But if you were a big-name sect, wouldn’t the Sect Leader Hall have an artificial lake?

It was basically mandatory luxury in the Central Plains’ estate architecture.

“And what was the name of the dining hall your second generation used before the current one?”

“Uh...”

“And there must be a tree where Hu Cheonchi’s mother used to measure his height when he was small! He hung a plaque there himself, remembering his late mother—what does it say?!”

“Uh—sect leader—no, the sect leader’s mother, when did she even die, she’s clearly—”

“Shut up! You don’t even know the day your sect leader holds memorial rites?!”

If an afterlife existed, it would have been a scene to make the burning Five Poison Sect disciples weep blood as they watched.

Our dining hall has never changed! It’s a two-hundred-year tradition!

And that tree doesn’t even exist!

And the sect leader’s mother is perfectly alive!

She’s healthy as ever!

After that, the subtle questions kept coming.

The kind only insiders would know—useless trivia that meant nothing to outsiders, not even worth calling “information.”

And since there were no real answers in the first place, they couldn’t possibly answer.

But the spectators’ faces grew brighter with every question.

These bastards are impersonators. Impersonators.

No matter how desperate the Jong Merchant House was, had they really gone insane—hiring people to impersonate the Five Poison Sect on the Five Poison Sect’s own turf?

“So what do you know at all? Then tell me—the name of the Five Poison Sect’s longtime favorite rice shop passed down since the Grand Elders’ day!”

“Th-that—”

“You WRETCHES! I cut ties with the Five Poison Sect, but even so—impersonation?! I will NEVER forgive it!”

BANG—!

With a Stamping Step that shook the ground, Qing’s body stretched forward in a blur.

A footwork once infamous across the entire Central Plains as the best short-range leap.

Heavenly Demon Run!

A moment later, swordlight as red as blood flashed—

And a head hit the ground and rolled—ROLL, ROLL, ROLL.

The scene the crowd had waited and waited for.

A single chorus burst out at once—“OHHHHHH!”

The other Blood Cult warrior, the one who’d been kneeling, jammed his hand into his sleeve and sprang up—

SHHK.

The blade drove through his forearm and burst out the other side at the wrist, and his body—cut on a diagonal—spilled down onto the ground with a wet THUD.

Hah—this is the stuff.

She’d love to savor it more, carve a little, peel some skin—

But right now, she needed to seal mouths as fast as possible.

Now the Five Poison Sect couldn’t intervene carelessly.

In front of this many witnesses, those two hadn’t answered a single thing.

From the Blood Cult’s perspective, wearing the Five Poison Sect’s skin, they wouldn’t want to draw attention. They’d have no choice but to let it pass as “they were just impersonators.”

And they really were impersonators.

If they stepped out saying, “They’re truly our disciples,” then a real master acquainted with the previous sect leader would ask who the hell they were, where the Five Poison Sect had gone, and why unknown faces were crawling all over the place—exposing their own identities.

But that master had declared with her own mouth that she’d cut ties with the Five Poison Sect. As long as no one provoked her, it didn’t look like she’d come looking again.

Sure, they’d hold a grudge.

So what?

What was a grudge worth when you were the Blood Cult? And was there even a single person in the Central Plains the Blood Cult didn’t hate?

With that, Qing—having broken through the Five Poison Sect guards sent here—walked, step by step, toward the Jong Merchant House’s main gate.