Chapter 909: Tripitaka Master and the Thief of Benevolence and Righteousness (2)

After eating breakfast in Huanin County, Qing set out, heading straight south along the Hun River, which flowed down toward the south.

Qing was on horseback, and the two people who hadn’t been invited—weren’t.

No, wait. You couldn’t call this a “group.”

It was just a martial-art robber and an extra hanger-on, clinging on one-sidedly like leeches, so calling it a group would be wrong.

And since they weren’t a group, there was no reason to be considerate, so Qing just let Lu Bu do whatever he wanted—walk if he wanted to walk, trot if he wanted to trot.

But you couldn’t exactly shake off a Transcendent Realm martial artist with something like that.

She figured that if their mood got fouled up from chasing—trot, then walk, then trot again—they might peel off, but no. Absolute clingy leeches.

Following the Hun River south like that, they eventually reached the point where it joined a much larger river.

A great river.

Originally, it was famous for its distinctive green, jade-colored water, the rippling hue so pretty it was like the feathers of a mallard.

So people called the river the “green” of a mallard feather, the Yalu River—so they said.

But in winter, the Yalu River froze solid, and it kept its ice until the end of March.

So at this time of year, the Yalu River was still sealed tight under ice—no green water at all, just a white, frozen wasteland.

Anyway.

So, the Yalu River!

Qing followed the riverbank, heading toward the increasingly higher eastern ground.

When the Yalu River curved inward, shallow land appeared where sediment had piled up, and when it curved outward, cliffs revealed themselves—so she crossed behind the mountains for a bit and came back to the river again, over and over.

Maybe he was bored out of his mind, because the Plunderer Demon started talking.

“I thought about it. That suspicious figure you’re looking for in Changbai Mountain—could it be that it learned Heaven-Sundering Reverse-Blood Heart-Needle Pointing Art? One of the Ten Great Demonic Arts of the World? If black veins rose up, that’s what it made me think of.”

“And if it is, what then? Are you interested in Heaven-Sundering Reverse-Blood Heart-Needle Pointing Art too, sir?”

“You little—do you think it’s called a demonic art for nothing? You’ve reached the Transcendent Realm, so you think demonic arts look easy? If you rely on demonic arts like that, you’ll never see the end of the demon’s path for your whole life. You need to think about escaping demonic arts—how can you think about adding something vicious on top of that?”

“Mm.”

It was true.

But hearing it from a martial-art robber made it feel... weird.

“But, Heavenly Flower Sword—if that’s the case, then does that mean a Reverse-Blood Demon Practitioner exists in Changbai Mountain?”

“I’m not sure. I heard there are occasional eyewitness accounts, so I’m going to check.”

“Masquerading—around here, it is a unique culture, disguising oneself as a monster and then going out to raid, but could it not be a rumor born from that process?”

“I’m still going. As far as I know, there aren’t any monsters with the traits of a Reverse-Blood Demon Practitioner, so it’s not like it’s impossible.”

“However, I have never heard such a rumor. Rather than that, I recommend investigating the delicious dishes of Tonghua land and the Baishan region.”

Oh. Is she someone who actually knows how to travel?

From the way she ate, she clearly knew how to eat, and yeah—travel really is food tourism.

Qing was a little tempted, but this wasn’t the time to travel that peacefully, and more than anything, why are you subtly lumping us together?

“If you want to eat, you can go with that sir over there and eat. People who want to eat can go eat, and people who want to go to Changbai Mountain can go to Changbai Mountain.”

“Changbai Mountain is very wide. Do you intend to search that vast Changbai Mountain in its entirety? It is extremely inefficient.”

“If we run into guys disguised as monsters while we’re on the way, we can ask around and dig up rumors as we go, so it’s not so inefficient that it’s impossible.”

“Even if such customs are common, raiding is not something that happens multiple times a day in the first place. Even if you define the range as the Yalu River basin stretching all the way to Changbai Mountain east of the Hun River, you cannot guarantee that even a single raid will definitely occur in a day.”

“And?”

“Then are you expecting that a Masquerade Troupe that happens to have gone out raiding will also, by sheer luck, run into the Heavenly Flower Sword? I cannot understand what kind of confidence that is. The probability of such a situation occurring would be very, very rare. Even now, you should find something delicious and—”

At that, Qing snickered and stretched out her hand.

White, long, elegant fingers pointed off to one side, and Gongryang Sayoon’s head turned to follow.

Over there—

A pack of suspicious figures, shaped like something not quite human.

“And yet it happened.”

“Kgh. So this is what it means to feel ‘resentful.’”

Qing stared quietly at the so-called “Masquerade Troupe.”

A guy who’d thrown a rough patchwork of animal hide over a thick padded coat, with horns carved from wood rising off his cap—probably meant to be some kind of goblin.

A guy whose face had been painted white with something, and one who’d been painted black—ah, that one’s a totem pole, he painted it exactly like a totem pole face.

Of course, the makeup quality was uniformly shabby, so anyone could tell it was humans imitating monsters.

A monster wouldn’t be bundling up in padded winter clothes until it puffed up like that because it was cold.

That line of “monsters” that had emerged from the forest on the far side of the Yalu River froze when they saw Qing.

They exchanged looks and moved their mouths—seems like they were arguing about what to do.

But Qing had already turned Lu Bu’s head, and she clop-clop crossed the frozen Yalu River, Lu Bu’s hooves sounding weirdly frightened.

Thankfully, the ice didn’t crack and drop them into the freezing water, and no tragedy happened.

As she neared the riverbank, one of them barked out a shout.

“S-Stop! Stop an’—stop right there!”

Qing had mastered all languages.

Of course, she’d never put in a single ounce of effort for it—she just ate it raw—but what she heard meant this:

Stop. Stop right now.

Ah, this—this is a foreign language, but it’s weirdly a foreign language that still sounds like something you could kinda understand—

“## #### #####......!”

“### ##### #######......!”

“You damn—damn Central Plain—#####......!”

Ah, okay, now it’s really a foreign language......

Once they actually started talking for real, it barely sounded like anything Qing had heard as Joseon speech in the Central Plain—first of all, the intonation was bizarre, so it felt like listening to a completely foreign tongue.

Well, there was nearly a four-hundred-year gap between Qing’s hometown and this Joseon.

Four hundred years was plenty of time for a language to change until it became unrecognizable.

Of course, Qing could understand it.

Those are Ming bastards from the Tang—no, Tang women—whatever, Tang-Wae bastards, aren’t they?

They say Tang-Wae bastards fly around and shit—what if it’s that? If we mess with them, it’ll get annoying.

Aren’t they those “de”—sons of bitches?

They don’t look like that. I’m telling you, those are Tang bastards, Tang women.

Tang bastard, Tang woman—or Tang-Wae bastard, Tang-Wae woman—was a Joseon slur for Central Plain people.

And “de” bastard, “de” woman—those were slurs for the Manchus, the Jurchen “barbarians,” not Central Plain people.

In Qing’s hometown, the Manchus eventually seized the Central Plain and conquered it, so Central Plain people inherited “de” bastard, “de” woman as a slur, but in this primitive, ancient-like Central Plain, that hadn’t happened yet—so Qing was a Tang woman, or a Tang-Wae woman.

Here, “Tang” meant Tang Dynasty Tang, and “Wae” meant Wae raiders—so it was basically saying Tang bastards and Wae bastards were all the same kind of trash.

Then, for some reason, Gongryang Sayoon puffed up her chest.

“My, Heavenly Flower Sword. You found the Masquerade Troupe, but at this rate, you will not even be able to communicate with each other. Did you not think about this aspect as well? Come, let us stop wasting time and go enjoy food tourism. Manchu land is famous for roe deer meat and all sorts of mushrooms, and in particular, it is the home of pine mushrooms and mountain ginseng. Just thinking about it—gulp—I am excited.”

It was Gongryang Sayoon, using this as her chance to beg to quit immediately and go eat.

Mm. Roe deer meat and mushrooms... I’ve never really eaten roe deer meat properly. That sounds good.

But.

Why does she keep acting like we’re close...?

That was the blind spot of psychological distance, you could call it.

To Gongryang Sayoon, Seomun Cheong was a celebrity who drew the interest of all sisters, including Gongryang Sayoon—so of course she felt happy and familiar.

Because it was one-sided familiarity, Qing couldn’t help thinking, why does she keep acting like we’re close?

Of course, Qing was the type to accept it without hesitation if the other side approached first, but still—she’s the bestie of that great demonic master martial-art robber......

Qing had never seen Gongryang Sayoon before, and since she was traveling with the martial-art robber, Qing couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable.

Anyway.

With a languid motion, Qing looked over the Joseon “monsters” who were whispering among themselves, face by face.

They were a bandit pack.

A bandit pack pretending to be monsters and even hiding their identities—so among bandit packs, you could say they were a particularly nasty type.

And there’s a word: Ransacking.

One meaning is causing a huge, noisy commotion.

Another meaning is looting and raiding other people’s goods.

So they were on their way to do Ransacking in both meanings.

And Qing, too, had an eye for Ransacking—no, not an eye for it: a genius of Ransacking, a born calamity-star who existed to cause Ransacking, Ransacking itself, to the point that if her name were Seomun Ransacking, it wouldn’t feel strange at all—a true authority of the ransacking world.

“[Aha! So all kinds of trashy monsters have gathered here! You bastards—how dare you come into the human world and throw the world into chaos!]”

At the fluent Joseon speech flowing out of Qing’s mouth, Gongryang Sayoon’s eyes shone.

“[Huh? She spoke!]”

“[She’s one of us? So why’s she got her face wrapped up like that. Is she an Interpreter?]”

“[What kind of Interpreter rides alone? No, wait—why’s a woman riding a horse, being shameless like that? She’s not one of us. Yeah. A woman from our land wouldn’t do something that shameless.]”

It seemed they weren’t feeling tense at all—there were many sturdy men holding clubs on their side, and only three on this side.

So Qing drew in a deep breath.

“Enough!!!”

A voice that surpassed humanity seized the initiative.

The “monsters” jolted at the thunderclap of her roar and stared at Qing, and Qing raised her hand-blade in front of her solar plexus as she continued.

“[Bastards, I am Tripitaka. At Avalokiteshvara’s request, I have descended once more into the lower realm to purge the monster rabble that throws the world into chaos—so I have arrived. And now I have met you monsters. Good. Very good. You are all dead.]”

The “monsters” exchanged glances.

Tripitaka Master? The one from Journey to the West?

Tripitaka Master is supposed to be weak—no, why is Tripitaka Master a woman in the first place?

Isn’t she just some crazy bitch?

“[Silence! I am that Tripitaka—the Tripitaka who slaughtered all monsters, struck down the monster king, the great demon king Bull Demon King, and brought stability to the world!]”

Journey to the West was famous, but surprisingly few people had actually read it properly.

People knew Tripitaka Master and Sun Wukong, and the two famous tagalongs, Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing, traveled together.

But few knew why they traveled, or what stories happened along the way.

Qing was the same, so—Tripitaka and Sun Wukong join forces to defeat a demon king—Bull Demon King is a demon king, so isn’t it basically the Central Plain version of “hero beats demon king”?

She hadn’t read it, but she had a long history with video games. You take one look and you get it. Obviously.

“[Now, look! Thousand-Hand Avalokiteshvara Palm! I will kill you monsters and go to hell! If I don’t go to hell, who will? It is you! You monsters go to hell!]”

Suddenly, Qing spread both arms wide.

Her arms drew a great circle and met above her head.

In that instant, a faint golden glow unfurled with solemn grandeur.

Then Qing swung down and drew a circle the other way, and along that arc, countless afterimages of golden arms remained.

A massive halo spread behind Qing’s back.

And that halo—made of afterimages of golden arms—was like a majestic aureole formed by a thousand hands.

Tathagata Divine Palm’s eighth move, Thousand Hands, Thousand Eyes Tathagata.

A supreme finisher of a divine art, being thrown out casually for the most petty reason imaginable—this was that moment.

“[Gasp—she must be Buddha!]”

“[Buddha—Buddha, we were wrong!]”

“[It’s a misunderstanding! We’re not monsters! We’re not monsters!]”

Seeing it, the “monsters” could only slam down flat and tremble, screaming about misunderstandings.