Chapter 145

Qing wasn’t the type to hesitate once she made up her mind.

If you wanted to sugarcoat it, you’d say she was proactive.

But really, calling someone who was impulsive, careless, and had no patience “proactive” was just a nice way of putting it.

That night, she quickly leveled up her martial arts technique, the ‘Three Thousand Exchange King Sword Form,’ to twelve stars with a decent performance ratio.

However, how effective those twelve stars actually were…

Originally, reaching twelve stars meant mastering the arts, comprehending the techniques, and then completely interpreting them in one’s own way.

But all Qing could do was stick to the original function.

If you slammed every single technique in, you’d get to ten stars; open up hidden techniques for eleven stars; and for twelve stars, you’d assign unique effects (mostly major stat boosts) to every martial art.

Qing was the only one in the world who reached twelve stars, but let’s be real—mastery was basically just rote memorization of tricks.

Even so, those stats transcended humanity.

At this point, she was tough enough that she could fall off any decent cliff and only come out with a scratch or two.

Then she’d just dust herself off, pretend to be annoyed for a moment, and then effortlessly climb back up with so much strength and stamina that she’d feel energized for the workout.

She continued to grow even stronger beyond human limits.

Honestly, it reached the point where one might wonder if she truly needed martial arts at all.

Perhaps that’s why she was content to linger right at the peak for so long.

Of course, Qing could feel a bit unjust.

Even after mastering all those fantastic techniques, her results weren’t exactly stellar. Just because you held the best textbooks doesn’t mean you’ll excel in every subject.

It’s tough to reach a realm with lousy martial arts textbooks, but good books won’t guarantee a straight-A student either. It all depended on one’s understanding and attitude towards studying.

But Qing was a rare beauty and a modern woman who could barely grasp why Muhak was even labeled a “master.”

Having come so far after four years of training, reaching a pure state of enlightenment at the peak was a feat worth praising rather than criticizing.

She wasn’t some special forces vet; she was just an ordinary social science major who hadn’t even bothered to memorize a single Taekwondo routine back in the army.

—-

The Divine Maiden Sect’s swordsmanship was elegant.

Her father, a figure from ancient myth levels of old, was the Flame Emperor.

There’s no way a legendary father like him would let his daughter swing around a sword like a wild boar.

The Flaming Phoenix Divine Sword, inspired by that image, wielded beauty and elegance that turned even the slightest change in movement into a stunning display.

In fact, according to the Martial Arts Inventory standards, it had a golden edge.

But even with just that gold, it was a marvelous transcendent technique worthy of the title.

When a master from the world wielded that ascending blade, any opponent would simply feel like death was on the menu.

Seomun Sulin’s reinterpretation of the Flaming Phoenix Divine Sword wasn’t flashy.

Rather, she replaced the empty gaps with the essence of a heavy sword—graceful and poised, with a determination that invoked awe.

The sword without a blade didn’t resemble a training wooden sword at all; its wicked energy gracefully swooped toward Qing’s waist.

The dancing tip of the sword could lunge in any direction, like a single sword coming at her head, body, and legs all at once.

At that moment, Qing’s moves twisted strangely.

She stretched her arms and twirled around, her feet moving effortlessly, and then suddenly appeared five steps behind Seomun Sulin like a ghost.

As Sulin turned to face her, Qing calmly traced the sword’s path, making her movements subtle yet precise.

Qing, however, seemed a bit flustered and as she dodged the attack coming at her back, she left behind an amusing afterimage as she dashed westwards, turning her back on her master.

Sulin lowered her sword and looked at Qing, who scratched her head in embarrassment.

“I guess this should only be used for running away.”

“Definitely looks like it.”

Sulin nodded in agreement.

They said mastering the world’s best evasion technique ensures absolute avoidance of defeat, and lo and behold, that was indeed the case.

While executing her evasive technique, she had to strictly adhere to the set order, making it impossible to breathe freely; the end result was always showing up behind her enemy, splitting the battlefield into directions wherever she could.

If she veered even slightly off course while using the Nengpa Mibo, her legs could easily tangle, leading to a spectacular fall.

Many had tried countless times to incorporate Nengpa Mibo into attacks, but all ended in failure.

It was a characteristic born from a defense stance rather than genuine offensive martial art.

So, it was truly useful only for dodging and running away.

But then again, maybe that made it an extraordinary skill after all.

If you could escape unharmed, it truly meant you would never be defeated.

However, it did have its weaknesses.

Understanding the formation clearly could easily block off all sixty-four variations of the Eight Trigrams.

Otherwise, it was vulnerable to being overwhelmed or caught by erratically swung “blind sword” moves.

“Still, it’s second to none for self-defense.”

That was the gist of Seomun Sulin’s teachings.

She pushed Qing to maximize her martial arts understanding, allowing her to evolve independently through practical application.

So, Qing spent her days tirelessly training at dawn, took a short break after dinner to play the flute, which became a surprisingly enjoyable hobby due to the unwavering cheers praising her talent and beauty from others.

Then she’d return to her lamp-lit desk, diligently copying texts until the night deepened before finally hitting the hay.

Even so, the two-layered custom cotton quilt made by her teacher served her well.

She’d lay it out on the floor, grab the edge, and roll into it completely.

Like that, combining the functions of a mat and a blanket, it kept her cozy and snug, ensuring no drafts snuck in from all sides.

In a chilly unadorned room with neither windows nor doors, one blanket could create the softest, warmest sleeping space imaginable.

Normally, Qing preferred her face and hands outside the covers, but considering the storm outside felt more like a typhoon, snuggling in was the better choice.

Adding to that, unbeknownst to her, it had a positive effect.

After sleeping in such a rigid position for days on end, her previously restless sleeping habits gradually transformed into something calmer and quieter.

—

As the days went by, the books she copied stacked up, already surpassing halfway through.

New Year had just come and gone, and here we were over twenty days later.

The cold was at its peak, and even though her health was stable, the drop in temperature brought a worried frown to Qing’s face.

At that moment, Tang Nan-ah casually brought it up.

“Hey, Qing, uh. How about staying over at your place for a day? I’ve always wanted to sleep over at a friend’s house…”

Ever since that incident back at the Tang Family where she got caught groping, Qing had refused to share a bed with anyone for ages.

Yet surprisingly, Qing readily agreed.

“Really? Then come over at night.”

“Wait, really?”

“Sure. It’s normal to want to sleep at a friend’s house.”

Qing’s response brought a rare smile to her face.

Tang Nan-ah was momentarily taken aback.

What’s up with her? Why’s she so pretty all of a sudden…?

The usually gloomy girl had smile in ages, so it was only natural.

After accepting the invitation, Tang Nan-ah, with some purpose in mind, dozed off right after dinner and headed off to Qing’s place looking surprisingly energized.

But was this a home or a ruin?

There wasn’t a single window or door, and the only belongings were a desk, a pile of scriptures in the corner, and some hastily stuffed clothes tied together.

That day, Qing, who diligently transcribed scriptures, greeted Tang Nan-ah with a mischievous smile.

“I’ve got nothing to offer you. How about some cold water?”

“In this freezing weather…?”

“I just can’t be bothered to chop wood.”

Qing’s lack of comfort was just a response to Seomun Sulin’s annoyance; she didn’t mind having a fire if needed.

The principle was that disciples in the Divine Maiden Sect were responsible for gathering their own wood.

It wasn’t just about randomly chopping down any tree; disciples were expected to venture down to the foot of the mountain to harvest logs.

Most of the reports of the celestial beings in the Unblemished Mountain came from disciples who’d quickly gone down to gather firewood.

Going all the way to the mountain’s base to chop wood was a hassle, and she couldn’t just steal her fellow disciples’ firewood out of respect.

Besides, if it got too cold, she could just roll up in a blanket, right?

“Alright, time for bed. I’m sleepy.”

Qing said as she opened up the blanket.

The one and only blanket she had.

“What? Is that all? No pillow…?”

“Nothing like that. This is just how it is in a humble place.”

Then they lay side by side, pulling the spare blanket towards them to cover up.

“…I’m cold.”

“Cold? Then put on warmer clothes.”

“No, I- I’m freezing!”

Tang Nan-ah trembled uncontrollably.

It was freezing!

This was a winter night, where a gusty wind swept through a roofless space.

If she poked her head out, it was cold enough to make her eyes ache, yet if she tucked it in, it was too dark to see anything, making it feel suffocating.

Not to mention that being under the blanket wasn’t all that warm either.

You’d think that just wrapping up in a single blanket would keep her cozy and smiling through a winter’s night, but Tang Nan-ah was no snow princess from the North Sea.

“This, this doesn’t seem right…”

“Well, there’s nothing I can do. With setup looking like this, I can’t exactly send you off.”

Thus Tang Nan-ah shivered and bolted.

She willingly agreed to this but wondered if it was okay to live like this.

Did she have some Northern Sea blood in her line or something?

Yeah, I didn’t exactly prepare well this time.

Tang Nan-ah fully admitted her defeat.

However, the notorious Heavenly Flower, the infamous first wicked woman of Sichuan, was stubborn.

Next time, she promised herself to bundle up four layers thick, sporting a fur hat that covered her ears and a mask; she even planned to prepare them right away!

Of course, that might help her beat the cold.

But wouldn’t that make her look like a bandit rather than a friend visiting?

—-

Seomun Sulin received a letter.

It bore the official seal of the Martial Alliance.

The letter began with “Dear Senior Seomun,” and informed her of the Demonic Sect’s unilateral request for reconciliation, along with unsettling news regarding the extermination of some well-known family, and more rumors about troubling bandits roaming the lands.

Then, at the end, it stated:

[“Thus, during these chaotic times, we aim to hold a gathering to solidify the bonds of orthodox martial arts. We would greatly appreciate your attendance to honor the occasion.”]