Chapter 167

As I waited by the entrance discreetly, Jeomsoi soon handed over a tray.

Six steamed buns, a bowl of soup, and a large container filled with sloshing alcohol.

Even if it was beyond the meal time, one could say this was quite generous.

“Wow, thank you! You’re going to be blessed!”

“Ahem. Hurry up and eat, will you?”

Qing plopped her large backside down on a quiet corner of the ground and began her meal.

First, she took out some jerky from her pack and dunked it into the soup, then took a hasty gulp of the alcohol poured richly in her bowl.

The sour, slightly spoiled rice wine seeped into her empty stomach, sending a surge of warmth shooting up.

“Whoa, that’s nice. The hospitality here is really good. I shouldn’t come too often.”

Generous places are best visited only occasionally.

If a beggar shows up all the time, it’d ruin the generosity.

There was even a hefty chunk of radish floating in the soup, which was truly remarkable hospitality.

Buns, on the other hand, tasted bland and dry everywhere in the Central Plain, but they wouldn’t go bad as long as they weren’t moldy, whether from a shabby stall or a fancy inn.

As she chewed on a bun slowly, noticing it had no taste, she mechanically worked her jaw, thinking that it’d taste a bit sweet if thoroughly chewed.

In fact, even now, if she knocked on the doors of the orthodox sect in the city and used her master’s name, she could be treated with the utmost respect.

But even without that, using her incredible strength to help out a carpenter wouldn’t be a problem for filling her belly three times a day.

But then, if a bounty hunter comes chasing, innocent folks would be in serious trouble.

It was just awkward to get close to anyone.

Qing knew all too well that her cunning tricks would definitely attract the attention of the highest authority, who deserved the utmost respect. If someone unfairly took an innocent person hostage, she’d have no choice but to get involved.

So, well. Just living as a beggar, why not?

The Martial World Tournament was less than two months away anyway.

Living as a beggar in the past was wretched, but now she found herself worrying it might get too boring.

After finishing her meal, Qing jumped up and started preparing for her true begging lifestyle.

First, she changed into the clothes given by a sword thief.

They fit wide but the sleeves and pants were a bit short.

She went to the laundry place to scrub her uniform vigorously, hung it on the common wash line, and stopped by a fabric shop to buy the cheapest cotton cloth to wrap around her calves and ankles.

This was the famous “beggar’s leg wrap.”

With that, her preparations for beggar life were complete.

It might seem too simple, but what grand preparations do you need to live as a beggar?

After all, that’s just the nature of being without.

—-

Ten days passed in an instant.

The appearance of an unseen female beggar who even carried two swords at her side caused some initial suspicion among the townspeople.

But since she just lounged around harmlessly and wasn’t doing anything noteworthy, their wariness quickly faded.

If you asked whether having a beggar with two swords was strange or not, you’d probably get an ambiguous answer of “Well, doesn’t seem that strange.”

After all, a proper beggar usually carries a pair of staffs.

The most traditional begging method is to stand in front of someone’s house, rhythmically thumping a stick in each hand while singing a tune.

The lyrics vary by region but usually convey a message like “I won’t leave until you give me food.”

Nowadays, it’s not exactly a feasible method.

In an age where you might get whacked instead of food, not leaving could mean heading to the next world for good.

Hence, this traditional begging style can only be seen at festive banquets.

Meanwhile, this beggar’s required item, which serves as a walking stick, self-defense weapon, and percussion instrument, is called a “dog-beating stick.”

You might wonder what kind of ignorant, animal-abusing name that is.

But the one who named it was none other than Confucius, the father of Chinese philosophy.

To sum it up briefly, it went like this.

Confucius was asked, “If I go begging and the homeowner keeps a big dog, what should I do?”

Confucius, infuriated, responded, “Then just beat the dog!”

And the beggars who used this dog-beating stick were precisely from the “Dog Gang.”

The headquarters of the Dog Gang is Kaifeng, and Zhangyuan City, a city near Kaifeng, was completely under the control of the Kaifeng beggars.

And finally, the ruthless clutches of the beggars extended to Qing… but.

“Ah, the knot. You’re from the Dog Gang. How’s Old Man Nugok? I’m just playing beggar for a while, so please bear with me.”

“Ah, do you know Elder Jipbeop? How do you know him?”

“I can’t reveal why, but are you coming to the Martial World Tournament? I’ll greet you then.”

“Ah, yes. Well, I wish you an enjoyable beggar life.”

The Dog Gang’s Zhangyuan branch said so and left.

It was the orthodox martial world’s ‘we are us.’

If this all turns out to be false later, then it wouldn’t be too late to crush them with a stick.

But if it’s true, poking at it could lead to trouble.

So, believing was undoubtedly better.

For now, there’s a female beggar claiming to know Elder Jipbeop, so to the Dog Gang, she must’ve put out the word to avoid unnecessary attention.

Besides, with the Martial World Tournament approaching, precious guests will be passing through, and unnecessary disturbances wouldn’t be beneficial.

“Wow. This really shows the power of connections in the Central Plain.”

Qing, who was preparing for a confrontation with the beggars, didn’t expect things to tidy up so neatly just by putting out one name.

It made her previous hardships feel a bit unjustified.

With no one bothering her, during the sunny days, Qing just lounged on the ground, pretending to beg and dozing off.

As a result, at night, she was wide awake without much to do, and after lying around all day, her body felt stiff and achy.

Finally, unable to endure the boredom, Qing began her training in the middle of the night.

What else could she do but swing her sword wildly at this hour?

Thus, the days went on with her sleeping during the day and training at night.

One could say she was living a more diligent martial artist’s life than when she was enjoying luxury as the renowned young lady of the Martial World.

As March passed the twentieth day, she started feeling the thick cotton clothes were a bit hot.

Still, the nights were cool enough, making it perfect weather for training.

One day, while she had her money bag spread out and was mimicking being dead on a rug she’d gotten from the Dog Gang, light footsteps approached and suddenly stopped right in front of her.

Qing opened her half-closed eyes to confirm the guest.

A little kid, probably around ten, was gazing at her like she was some fascinating animal.

The child wore nice clothes, and his face exuded the charm of wealth, making it obvious he was a rich young master.

He carried a sword at his waist, suggesting he was likely a martial artist.

Well, since the Martial World Tournament was approaching, the family from Kaifeng likely brought their child along.

Little did she know, Kaifeng was just nearby.

“Well, it doesn’t concern me.”

Just as Qing was about to close her eyes again.

“Excuse me.”

“Yeah?”

Qing answered unenthusiastically with her eyes still closed.

“You know…”

“I don’t, so why don’t you scram?”

“I’m just asking something…”

The kid’s voice trailed off sadly.

It honestly stirred a bit of pity in her.

“Ugh, I’m too soft-hearted.”

Anyway, Qing was weak when it came to kids.

She sat up and scratched her head.

“What is it?”

“Ah, you’re a female beggar, right?”

“Can’t you tell by looking?”

“Then are you ah, a courtesan? You are, right?”

“…?”

Qing narrowed her eyes.

What’s this?

Here I was, about to be nice because the kid was cute, and I’m getting insulted right to my face?

Naturally, Qing couldn’t hold back from responding angrily.

“Kid, do you ever hear that you shouldn’t say anything about not having a mother? You look like you don’t have one.”

“Ah.”

The kid’s eyes widened in surprise, almost like a cartoon character.

“How did you know? My mom died giving birth to me.”

“Oh, is that so.”

Qing replied nonchalantly.

Even then, she had no intention of feeling sorry for a brat who insults her again.

“If you’ve said all you need to, can you go now?”

“Well, I… this…”

The small hand of the kid reached out, offering a large gold coin.

What’s this? A sudden peace offering?

Well, considering this level of sincerity, I should act like an adult and show some leniency.

It was too much money to refuse.

As Qing accepted it, the kid, with his innocent smile, asked, “So, can I touch your chest now?”

Qing’s forehead twitched with a visible vein popping out.

“Little brat, what kind of home did you grow up in to be this bold? Hey, did you learn that from somewhere? Do you think I’m just sitting here waiting for a fight? Can’t you see I’m carrying a sword?”

“Huh? That’s not it…”

“Not it, what?”

The kid frowned about to cry, saying, “Courtesans let you touch their chest if you give them a gold coin… right?”

“Who said that? There’s a time to say things and a time not to. Go tell your mom… oh wait, didn’t you say you don’t have one? Go tell your dad. And say someone taught you to touch a courtesan’s chest.”

“I didn’t learn it, but I heard the delivery guys say they would go touch courtesans’ chests for money. Is it because I gave you a gold coin?”

“So, you’re saying the delivery guys taught you that? Every woman beggar is dirty and vile, and you shouldn’t go near them?”

“That’s what Master Baek said. He said female beggars are all filthy and shouldn’t be approached.”

“What’s up with that jerk Baek? So, he says female beggars are courtesans, and the delivery guys say courtesans let you do whatever if you give them a gold coin?”

“Well, more accurately, they mean you can do whatever you want like sucking and rubbing…”

“And you wanted to go touch my chest.”

“That’s…”

The kid’s face turned beet red.

“I overheard the ladies talk about how their sons would squeeze their mom’s chest even after turning ten…”

“Then you should go do it to your mom. Oh wait, you said you don’t have one. So?”

“So another lady said boys can never forget that feeling and will spend their whole life searching for it. I’m dying to know what it feels like but I don’t have my mom…”

Qing frowned, dumbfounded.

“What kind of family doesn’t know the difference between what to say and not? Any house with kids should watch their mouths.”

This is why you need to be careful with your words around houses with children.

What in the world are they teaching the kids?

But listening to him, she found it oddly entertaining.

With a friendlier tone, Qing asked again, “So, did you hear anything else?”

“Um… when touching the chest? They said not to touch the middle, start by scratching around it, and if there’s a flood, then boom! You go to paradise. What’s a flood? And what’s boom? Why do you go to paradise? Isn’t it where good people go after they die?”

“Hmm. That’s something I can’t teach you. So, anything else? Didn’t you hear anything more?”

“Ah! And, um…”

The kid started spilling all sorts of weird stories.

Qing, who enjoyed dirty tales, kept squeezing the kid for every last detail until he ran out of things to say.

“Looks like that’s everything.”

“Hmm. Got it. By the way, did they really talk about all that in front of you?”

“Well… no… I did learn that eavesdropping is bad… but they were having such fun conversations…”

Originally, she wanted to tell him to go relay everything he just said to his dad.

But now it seemed the servants might not have been careless after all.

Eavesdropping from a secret passage, huh?

Certainly, those guys might shoot the breeze with a little raunchy talk during their duties.

But could they ever imagine their young master was eavesdropping from a secret passage?

That would be quite the stretch to cut off their rice bowl.

But what, does this kid spend all day just eavesdropping on people?

Just as Qing thought that, the kid suddenly clapped his hands as if he remembered something.

“Oh right. I’m Mo Yongjun.”

“Mo Yong? From the Mo Yong Clan? That Mo Yong?”

“Yes, the Mo Yong Clan from Liaoning.”

“Ah! So that’s right. Liaoning Province.”

Qing now knew of the five great family surnames and where they were from.

What? Turns out he wasn’t just any young master.

A super rich young master at that.

“I’m just, um… a beggar.”

Qing, not wanting to get friendly due to the circumstances, fibbed.

After all, you never know when a genius tracker or an assassin might show up. An incident involving a precious young master getting caught wouldn’t be welcome.

So, Mo Yongjun cheerfully said, “Then can I touch your chest now?”

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