Chapter 893: Shenyang Trip (1)

The Mongol pinned beneath the horse had gone pale.

A horse was a big, heavy beast to begin with.

He was lying on his side, wheezing out dying breaths, and only the man’s shoulders were sticking out from under it—so his ribs had probably caved in all at once.

A warrior who’d ridden the earth from the saddle was now crushed under his own horse, dying. Well... if you had to die, I guess this was still a decent one.

Then—HACK.

The warrior spat out a mouthful of blood, and the focus came back into his eyes.

He met Qing’s gaze as she looked down at him, then pulled a wide, completely unmalicious grin.

“[Truly magnificent valor, warrior. I pay my respects.]”

“[You’ve got a lot of leisure, don’t you?]”

“[You will surely become a great warrior whose name shakes the world. If I lost to such a warrior, I have no regrets. It’s just... uncomfortable. Could you kill me now?]”

Qing snorted.

A second ago, he’d charged like he’d just seen his parents’ murderer—and now that he was about to die, he wanted to act friendly?

Maybe he was afraid he wouldn’t get a clean death. Or maybe he was trying to coax out an opening and pull some stunt to survive.

“[Before that. You were happily taking the tribute—so why’d you suddenly decide to slaughter everyone?]”

“[Strange question. If an owner wants to slaughter their livestock, does anyone else need to know why?]”

“[Huh.]”

He looked genuinely baffled, like he truly didn’t know what she meant, so Qing just let out a long sigh.

He hadn’t even been curious about why they needed to attack Geonpyeong in the first place.

“[What was it again, great warrior? If the Great Khan tells you to die, you just kill yourself without even asking why?]”

“[Of course. They would have ordered death for a reason. If so, there is no reason not to take my own life.]”

“[If they tell you to die, you’ll die?]”

“[Ha ha—HACK, COUGH, HNGH... You are a warrior fit to aim for the world, but sadly, you’re still a Central Plains person. If someone kills their brothers for no reason, what warrior in this world would ever follow them as an elder brother? So if the Great Khan orders death, there must be a proper reason.]”

Qing pressed her lips shut.

Once someone stamped you with You’re Central Plains, you wouldn’t get it, there wasn’t much to say.

If “Go die” meant “Understood,” with not even a flicker of doubt... how was that any different from a trained hunting dog?

It wasn’t.

It was just an animal.

If you were a person, even when an order came down, you were supposed to think for yourself whether it was right or wrong.

Arm yourself with independent thought—an independent warrior, a... independent-warrior... yeah, that wording was a little...

Qing drove her long-handled saber into the ground.

The Mongol warrior’s head happened to be right between the blade and the earth, but wasn’t that the head-owner’s fault for placing his precious head in such a dangerous spot?

Qing walked around, stabbing the long-handled saber down again and again.

Idiots who couldn’t even keep track of their own heads kept putting them in hazardous places and meeting tragedy, over and over.

*****

Meanwhile—Moyong Jun, the Moyong Family’s genius boy.

At the same time, Moyong Jun was also—since “day words are heard by birds and night words are heard by mice”—the Moyong Family’s bird by day and mouse by night: a professional eavesdropper.

And if you wanted to eavesdrop well, first you had to hide well.

So an eavesdropping expert was basically the same thing as a stealth expert.

That was why Green Guard had gone out to help Qing.

It was all based on an unshakable faith: that his young master would hide properly on his own and wouldn’t be discovered.

So, hidden in a civilian house on one side of the square—

More precisely: Moyong Jun had rearranged the furniture so it didn’t look strange, while still creating a blind spot, and was crouched behind it.

Then he’d drilled a peephole in the wall and watched, perfectly, the beggar big sister’s WHAM-BAM-SLAM barbarian riot unfolding in the square.

Qing’s dogfight was, quite literally, a complete collection of every creative method a person could pull off with their own capabilities—an unfettered, primal fight that wasn’t chained to martial arts or set forms.

No—if both sides weren’t even capable of being “opponents,” it wasn’t really a fight.

It was one-sided violence. Raw, bare violence.

And Moyong Jun’s impression, after seeing that violence?

Beggar big sister is insane! She’s so cool!

Moyong Jun’s eyes glittered.

Ah... so this was what “cool” was.

Compared to this living scene of violence, the strict, solemn, serious sparring matches with the elders of the family were nothing but theater—an imitation of fighting.

Originally, the coolest martial artist in Moyong Jun’s world was his father, Moyong Seongik.

Gentlemanly and serious, yet also broad-minded and generous—truly the bearing of a noble person. The posture of his martial arts carried elegance and proper form, like the model Great Hero you’d only see in stories.

But now, somehow, that ideal was turning translucent—fading.

And overlapping it, another image.

A beggar-looking woman who seemed loose and playful, as if she didn’t care at all about anyone’s eyes, committing absurd antics—

But the moment she entered a fight, she trampled her opponent with a feral brutality more savage than anyone in the world.

A huge shift was happening in what a little kid pursued as “cool”!

Qing was causing devastating harm to a child’s emotional development and formation of values.

Just by existing, she was that harmful—this was exactly what parents meant when they warned you not to make bad friends.

Truly, it was terrifying.

So Moyong Jun wanted to sprint out the moment the fight ended.

But when he’d run away from home, he’d promised Green Guard that if a fight like this happened, he’d wait and watch the situation for about one moment after it was cleaned up before going out.

Still, Moyong Jun was a good kid who listened, so he waited—and then ran to the cool beggar big sister.

*****

And that cool beggar big sister?

As I was cleaning up the remaining stragglers—BRRRT.

At the distinct sound of a horse’s lips trembling, I turned my head.

It was the black horse the barbarian chief had been riding.

Horses were cool-looking creatures to begin with, but this one was, especially, shockingly handsome.

As Qing stared at it—CLACK, CLACK.

With strangely relaxed hoofbeats, the pitch-black horse approached, proudly, then stretched out its big head and slid—SWISH, SWISH—against Qing’s forearm, rubbing itself on her.

Without thinking, Qing stroked the horse’s neck, and it let out a pleased BRRRT, BRRRT.

This was it, right?

It was acting cute, right?

Sure, it was kind of impressive that a horse had eyes for people, but—right after its owner died?

Owner’s dead, time to find a new owner?

Maybe that was a very practical thought, but it was still the very model of fast transfers—no integrity, no loyalty, no devotion.

“Wow, beggar big sister. You got yourself a famous steed.”

“Hm?”

Who knew where he’d been hiding—Moyong Jun appeared the moment the fight ended, staring at the black horse and exclaiming in admiration.

Then he reached out to stroke it too—

SNAP!

The black horse’s teeth clashed viciously.

Moyong Jun yanked his hand back before he got bitten, not even trying to hide his disappointment.

“I think it wants to follow beggar big sister as its owner. It’s acting super vicious......”

“Huh. What did I even do?”

“There are horses like that, you know. What do you call it? Like... horses that like showing off. A leader horse?”

Apparently, the especially clever ones understood the power and prestige of the person riding them, so if you put someone high and mighty on their back, they got all smug and proud and “elegant,” enjoying the whole situation.

And if you went even further, they refused to carry anyone who wasn’t high status—like, how dare a low-ranked human even touch them?

“So you’re saying... it came to me because I’m strong?”

Was that... okay?

Some kind of bond between horse and owner, something like that—weren’t there famous steeds that followed their owner in death? What was it again? Red Hare?

No. The answer was a different horse: Dapple, Xiang Yu’s famous steed.

But Qing only knew Red Hare.

“You’re not going to name it?”

“A name? Hm. I guess... its original owner is dead, so there’s no way to know, and... hmm.”

Qing looked at the horse.

Let’s see. A name. It’s a black horse, so...

Blackie? Blacky? Black Bean? Black Rice? What else is black? Hm... black bean noodles? I want black bean noodles......

If the black horse could have read Qing’s mind, it would’ve kicked with its hind legs and bolted on the spot.

But Qing couldn’t escape the craving—homesick for the sweet, deep flavor of black bean noodles, a traditional dish of her people.

Only after swallowing twice—

Wait, what was I thinking about?

Ah. The horse’s name.

“Alright. From now on, your name is Lu Bu.”

“Lu Bu? Whoa. ‘Among men, Lu Bu; among horses, Red Hare’—so it means you’re telling it to become the strongest horse, right? Right?”

“No. It just felt natural for you to betray. Your old owner died and you immediately cut him off and came to me.”

“......Then wouldn’t it be better to call it Red Hare? Since it’s a black horse, call it Black Hare?”

“Red Hare? Doesn’t Red Hare feel... loyal?”

“Red Hare kept changing owners too.”

“Huh. Oh? You’re right?”

Now that I thought about it, Red Hare had originally been Dong Zhuo’s horse, then Lu Bu got it, then Cao Cao took it, then it was gifted to Guan Yu, then Sun Quan took it.

What the hell—Red Hare wasn’t some loyal famous steed at all. It was basically a symbol of betrayal.

Well, if it was a good horse, anyone would covet it.

And it wasn’t like an animal could stop eating because it lost its owner, or shove its nose into the feed trough and kill itself.

Qing gently stroked Lu Bu.

The texture of the coat was weirdly addictive—kind of stiff, but also soft and plush. Like dog fur, but also with this velvety, satin-like softness?

Qing kept petting Lu Bu.

Green Guard was naturally taciturn, so he just existed beside Moyong Jun.

Moyong Jun looked at Lu Bu with jealous eyes, then at Qing, then swept his gaze around the area again.

“Beggar big sister?”

“Yeah?”

“Uh... are we staying here? Watching? While I was watching you fight, I got this feeling—like I almost get something, but I don’t quite.”

“Mm. It’d be nice to spar, but... later. We’ll do it later.”

“Yes......”

Moyong Jun drooped, shrinking down—but only for a moment. Soon he was glancing around again.

Like the little kid he was, doing nothing bored him immediately.

Wasn’t boredom the thing kids had the hardest time enduring?

But Qing wasn’t killing time petting the horse for no reason.

A little later, maybe because the surroundings had quieted down, the Geonpyeong people who’d fled began to cautiously reveal themselves in the square.

Someone sucked in a breath in shock, someone else gagged at the thick stink of blood and the horrific sight and ran toward a corner to retch.

But most of them threw fear-filled looks at the Beggar Venerable who’d created this massacre.

As Qing quietly watched them, Lord Jang stepped forward from among the crowd.

“Great Hero, thank you for the grace of saving our lives.”

“Great Hero my ass. I’m not a Great Hero. Who decided that? I’m not doing Great Hero. More importantly—what did I tell you to call me?”

“......Beggar Venerable.”

Qing looked at Lord Jang, then her playfulness drained away and she spoke in a serious voice.

“It would be better to leave the city. We drove off the barbarians who rushed in today, but we don’t know when other bastards will swarm in.”

“But, Beggar Venerable—this is our home. This is our life. Even if we leave, where would we go?”

“That’s for you to decide. If you want to stay here, you can. But will the next barbarians who come overlook you the way the last ones did—calling it ‘tribute’ while they rob you?”

Qing swept her gaze across the people of Geonpyeong.

To be honest, her revenge in Geonpyeong was already finished.

She’d stayed to punish the Geonpyeong Tower proprietor’s brazen attempt, and to watch some barbarians before leaving.

So now that the barbarian-watching was over, she could just leave immediately.

But even if they were people she hated, she still felt like she should warn them before she went.