Chapter 968: It’s Me, You Fuckers (4)

Qing left Xingshan County and cocked her head.

Something... what is it? Why does it feel so unfamiliar?

The road from Xingshan County down to Jagwi County used to be narrow and crooked—more like a trace where people had walked for ages, the dirt packed down so hard that grass couldn’t grow.

But this?

A wide road stretched out on both sides, the earth shallowly cut and filled with gravel, then tamped down.

“What? Is this the right road? It didn’t look like this.”

“Sounds like you’re returning home after a long time too.”

“Well, it has been a while, yeah.”

“No need to worry about it. People say even rivers and mountains change in ten years.”

“I left last fall.”

“...?”

They say ten years is enough to change rivers and mountains.

Which also means it takes ten years for rivers and mountains to change.

But for Jagwi County?

Half a year is plenty!

That was why Qing’s trips home always felt familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

Either way, a well-maintained road reduced a traveler’s fatigue and increased travel speed.

Even for Qing—who, with her beyond-human stamina and leg strength, could brag about steel legs, iron legs, and legs with soft, strange curves that were downright obscene—an actual road was obviously more comfortable than wilderness ground.

Huh. So they repaved it.

Every step made a soft crunch-crunch sound, that pleasant rubbing noise you got when the gravel hadn’t fully settled into the base yet.

Meaning the road hadn’t been laid that long ago.

And even if the path home felt a little unfamiliar, her heart was light beyond measure.

A warm spring day.

With every step, the lively crunch of gravel.

To the right, the wide valley that fed into the Yangtze, its water making a bright shaaaa sound.

To the left, the mountains welcomed spring in full bloom—wildflowers she didn’t know by name, but had tasted before and knew by flavor, exploding in vivid colors.

It felt like strolling along the riverside—so refreshing that a hum rose on its own.

And then, downriver through the valley, where it reached the Yangtze—round the corner with the mountains on the right—and the familiar, longed-for landscape of her home, always lodged somewhere in her heart, spread out in the distance—

...Huh. The buildings are a lot taller.

And that wasn’t all. The Yangtze was packed with flower-viewing boats—

Wait, what? Why does this feel so unfamiliar?

Well, even back on the valley road she’d just walked, it had been the same.

In a gentle spring like this, what season could be better for taking boats out and playing on the water?

Drinking while standing on a boat and gazing at Wu Gorge—the second gorge of the Three Gorges—

Even if it wasn’t the wide-open grandeur of Jingzhou or Wuhan’s lakes, the high mountain peaks rising on all sides were a spectacular view that swelled the chest all on their own.

*****

And honestly, Jagwi County’s reputation had spread pretty well even among sightseeing travelers now.

Because the Central Plain’s greatest professional traveler had visited and given his evaluation.

Master Xu Hongzu—meaning Master Xu the Traveler—had come here and passed judgment.

The travelogue of Xu Hongzu, famed as the greatest traveler under heaven, carried enough authority that storytellers all over the Central Plain repeated it like scripture.

How authoritative?

So much that Huangshan—previously not especially famous—became acknowledged as the number one famous mountain in the Central Plain from a single evaluation of his.

Return from the Five Peaks, and other mountains aren’t worth seeing; return from Huangshan, and even the Five Peaks aren’t worth seeing.

Because of that, the Huangshan Sect’s income supposedly quadrupled, and they were all smiles, or so the story went.

Anyway.

That was why, once Master Xu the Traveler’s latest evaluation started circulating—

“Not to the level of Mount Tai, famed for its grandeur, and though its waterways are beautiful, not to the level of Guilin or Wuhan.

However, prices are cheap, and they do not overcharge outsiders. More than that—there are no pickpockets, and the beggars are gentle.

And the people of Jagwi are simple and kind, welcoming you with smiles, so your heart grows glad on its own, and the place feels warm like a hometown.

Only... it is a pity I could not see Cheonhwa, the moon-palace Chang’e, the greatest beauty under heaven whom all the literati of the south of the river yearn for.”

—travelers with light purses, and travelers worn out by the usual forced sales, gouging, vicious pickpockets, and clingy beggars at famous scenic spots, started pouring in.

Of course, there were negative opinions too.

They said Master Xu the Traveler—who spent his whole life wandering around just to look at things—was always short on travel money anyway, and that he entered Jagwi County on foot but left riding a horse and pulling a cart, so wasn’t he paid to write that?

But Master Xu the Traveler was also a traveler and a great explorer.

Regardless of whatever sponsorship he may have received, he would have kept to his convictions.

More important than that was whether it was true.

The scenery of the Three Gorges was famous to begin with—of course it was worth seeing.

The important question was whether the prices were really cheap, and whether the people were really kind.

And on that point, opinions lately were sharply divided.

Some people said it really was cheap, and that it was rare to see people this kind—there were no issues even if you wore your coin pouch loosely, and even when beggars saw travelers, they just lay there without interest, like cows staring at chickens.

And then there were others.

They said the prices being cheap was bullshit—that predatory business practices were everywhere, taking three coins for a single cup of water.

And even that would have been a mercy—sometimes they just refused to sell anything at all, acting high and mighty. Kindness my ass.

The looks in their eyes weren’t even looks—just hard, vicious glares, and their speech was rough and unwilling, like they were dealing with an enemy.

Even if you hid your coin pouch tight, they’d cut your cloth and steal it, and those bastard beggars followed you around spreading stink until you were miserable from end to end.

So why was there such a difference?

Because both were true.

The first was the evaluation left by travelers who came purely to enjoy themselves.

And the second?

It was the evaluation of wandering martial artists and dark-world trash who came after hearing the rumor about seed-extraction demonic arts.

In fact, at some point Jagwi County merchants suddenly flipped and turned cold—because who controlled Jagwi County’s commerce if not the Seol Family Trading House and the Daechung Merchant House?

To hyenas sniffing around for seed-extraction demonic arts, even a cup of water was too precious, and even if they offered not gold but mountains of wealth, they’d never be accepted as customers—so they should just get lost.

As a result—

When Qing crossed the Yangtze and entered Jagwi County proper, her brow furrowed without her noticing.

“What? Why are there so many beggar bastards?”

Qing was someone who opened her heart easily to anyone and treated people sincerely—someone with no discrimination at all.

Beggars. Yeah, beggars. Sure, there might be good people among beggars.

But the only good beggar is a dead beggar!

Of course, the truth was that those “beggars” were the loafers who’d swarmed in after hearing the rumor about seed-extraction demonic arts.

Since no inn would take them in, what were they supposed to do? They had no choice but to sleep rough.

The richer ones could pay a household and rent a place—but as if everyone had coordinated, they demanded more than ten silver pieces for a single night and tried to gouge them.

And how could anyone sniffing around seed-extraction demonic arts be a decent person?

There were people who couldn’t control their temper and caused a huge scene.

But after the local escort warriors hired by the merchants’ association suddenly started ripping out pressure in thick waves and crushed them, it became hard to dare to cause trouble again.

No—seriously, why were Supreme Peak masters working under a merchants’ association, protecting neighborhood peace? And masters whose names weren’t even known?

Of course, Qing had just arrived in the city. There was no way she would know any of that.

Was the city prospering so much that beggar bastards had increased, trying to pick up scraps?

And beggars wearing swords—what is that?

Anyway. The Seol Family Trading House!

There was a way to ride a Seol Family Trading House boat on the Yangtze, enter through their private pier, and go straight into the trading house—but there were so many boats and everything looked busy, so Qing passed through the city instead.

The moment Qing approached, the four guards standing watch to the left and right of the main gate bent at the waist in unison.

Not just bent—folded so hard their foreheads were about to hit the ground.

And a thunderous greeting burst out at the same time.

“MISS!!! HAVE YOU RETURNED!!!”

She wasn’t some boss of an organized gang.

Qing was about to say they didn’t need to greet her that excessively, but the guards straightened again—and their faces were practically glowing, grinning so wide their mouths nearly reached their ears.

Like it was just a prank born out of genuine happiness to see her.

As she passed through the main gate and crossed the grounds, familiar faces came up to her one after another.

“Miss, do you remember last time?”

“Ah, Mr. Sang the guard. Last time—do you mean, maybe...?”

So she remembers me...!

For a moment, the guard called Sang nearly collapsed as his legs went weak.

“Yes, Miss. I have finally completed Grandmother’s secret recipe, so the ultimate Manapgo is finished.”

“Oh.”

“There’s some left. Would you like to try it?”

“Wow, thank you.”

Manapgo was a type of cookie.

And for the Seol Family Trading House staff, it was a lifelong honor to find excuses to gift Qing snacks—cookies, drinking food, anything.

So with the staff “happening” to run into Qing in the order they’d already decided, a pouch of snacks quickly formed, dangling all over her belt.

Watching that, Kim Heojung tossed out a comment.

“Hm. I never imagined you were such an unbelievably precious young lady. Not even once. And you’ve got a trading house this big.”

In other words: it didn’t suit her.

Another woman might have gotten angry, but Qing didn’t care.

Because Qing was a man, not a young lady.

“Miss, my ass. And the trading house has nothing to do with me. It’s just that the Trading House Master is my friend, and the owner is kind of like my godfather. That’s all.”

“Hm? A godfather is a godfather. What’s a ‘kind of’ godfather?”

“It’s hard to explain. A one-sided godfather? It just... happened. But—what is it?”

“Why?”

“No, it’s just... the old man...”

Qing snapped her head around, left and right.

Usually, around now, she should be hearing the old man’s pointless, affectionate scolding—If you came, then come already, why are you dawdling?

But—

That old man looked extremely sulky.

And vicious!

That glare was exactly the old man from the Demonic Cult.

“Tsk. Where’ve you been wandering around until now? Like home doesn’t even exist to you. Don’t you feel sorry for an old man? Yeah, it’s my fate. My fate.”

“Come on, why are you like this, old man. I’m hungry.”

Qing grinned and nudged at him.

Cute enough to be harmless, and she said she was hungry?

Every old person wants to feed the young.

A true old-person killer—the Elder-Slaying Secret Art!

But Choi Ri-ong rejected it.

“You show your face after half a year and the first thing out of your mouth is food? I spoiled you too much, you bitch—now you crawl in like home is nothing but a place to eat?”

“Huh? What is this. Why did you reset. Old man, did something happen?”

“Hmph. Do you need something to happen to come home? You take after your mother—mother and daughter, both of you, heartless as a matched pair. I must have committed so many sins that my later years are just me growing old like this, lonely. Yeah. It’s all my sin. My sin.”

“Huh? Did Jayeo get into trouble or something?”

“Let her come and get into trouble! It’s been dead silence! What joy does an old man have, when the little thing is already taking after her mother and acting heartless?”

And then the complaints poured out.

“Until winter, the baby came down once every five days—no, at least once every ten—so this old man didn’t even feel the cold. But spring came and I haven’t seen her once, and now my bones ache and I’m shivering—so it’s colder. Cold!”

“If you missed her that much, you could’ve had Heema come and bring her. Why didn’t you?”

“I sent word! But that Gyeon girl didn’t come down either... She just sent a message saying she’s training at your order.”

“Huh? Heema?”

Qing tilted her head.

Maybe their first meeting had gone poorly, because Qing’s Master didn’t approve of Heema.

Heema could come and go, but couldn’t stay long.

These days, with the Master away, she could sneak in and sleep one night if she timed it right—because the Priestess Order people welcomed Heema, and even the Sect Leader viewed her kindly.

In that situation, for Heema to be up there full-time...?

Huh. I like it, but is that okay?

If a Nuclear Forehead Flick came flying later—

No, if it could be solved with a Nuclear Forehead Flick, that would be—

No. A Nuclear Forehead Flick is a major matter.

It really hurts like hell.

She would not take any more Nuclear Forehead Flicks.

Once her Master returned, the old pattern—getting too excited and talking without thinking, saying what she should and shouldn’t, then getting hit—would not happen anymore.

That was how powerful it was.

Anyway.

Qing got the situation.

Old man... you’re pouting because you haven’t seen Jayeo.