Chapter 372

Once, before Qing’s departure, he stumbled upon a rather amusing scene in an obscure island nation where a traveler asked about a lively festival taking place.

“What kind of festival is happening?”

To which a local resident replied, “It’s not a festival; it’s a funeral.”

Despite the bewilderment, the traveler could argue he was merely experiencing an exotic culture he didn’t understand. But Qing was now well-versed in the ways of the Central Plains.

So, with a rush, even for Qing, he felt blood rush to his head, turning his face a deep shade of red in embarrassment.

And then there was the mention of Dongpo Pork!

Right from the get-go, he sounded like an utter fool.

Of course, Dongpo Pork is delicious.

Sure, he wouldn’t mind having some braised pork, but that wasn’t the point.

Qing had a somewhat rational reason for calling out for those meat dishes upon his grand entrance.

Normally, during a feast, everyone is supposed to be merrily chattering away. Shouting about different meats would only invite hearty laughter.

He felt sorry for arriving late and figured he’d rather bring in a laugh and enjoy himself rather than just barging in.

But, well… it turns out it was a funeral.

“Excuse me! I’m Unyeonjeong, the meat-seeking beauty lost in the martial world! Un! Yeon! Jeong! This isn’t a feast! I guess I should take my leave, all hail the White Cloud Tavern.”

With a loud cough, Qing smoothly spat out that blatant lie, sounding all too familiar with the persona.

Unyeonjeong had become Qing, and Qing had reached the level of Unyeonjeong, or one could say, the duality of Un-Qing had been achieved.

As Qing took a step back—bam!—he charged forth dramatically, his cloak flaring out as if he were about to take off to the sky.

Silence fell over the gathering.

What just happened? Is she crazy? Well, she is crazy, that’s true, but was she that Unyeonjeong? What was her name again?

Was it A-Young? Un-Young?

Wait, how does someone get a name like Unyeonjeong?

Dongpo Pork? It must taste good, though.

What on earth was that about “all hail the White Cloud Tavern”?

For reference, the White Cloud Tavern is a local delicacy from neighboring Guangdong’s capital, Guangzhou, known for its steamed white pig’s trotter.

What on earth should I call this girl who barges in seeking meat and proclaims herself a beauty?

That moment could be when the reputation of the meat-hunting beauty Unyeonjeong starts spreading among the people of Guangxi, or maybe not.

Regardless, right through the wide-open gate, Seomun Qing, a twenty-year-old girl, hurriedly dashed across the streets.

Making her way to a shadowed corner where a carriage was stationed.

Jayu and Yeon Pa watched as Qing rushed in.

Qing had gone out to ask for permission regarding the Crown Prince’s visit to the Gye-rim Sword Faction.

(Though how dare the Gye-rim Sword Faction permit a visit from the Crown Prince, Qing insisted that even the prince shouldn’t just barge in unannounced.)

“Back so soon? Is it time to leave?”

“No, it’s not that. Thinking about it, I realized this outfit doesn’t suit me. Being a disciple of the Divine Maiden Sect, I should be wearing their robes. Can you close your eyes for a moment while I change?”

At that, Jayu’s expression became delicate.

“Close my eyes?”

Even so, it was a necessary contemplation for a man accompanying Qing.

“Why, do you want to wait outside? It’s cold.”

“Your ladyship is right. We should preserve your beauty in this chilly weather.”

Yeon Pa chimed in, winking at Jayu, eliciting a curious arch of his eyebrow.

What on earth was that look supposed to mean?

Was she hinting at something else, maybe a peep?

“Ahem, it’s just a brief moment; what could go wrong?”

Jayu donned a face mask as he stepped out of the carriage, while Qing quickly stripped off her shabby, ripped outfit like peeling off a battered batter.

Changing clothes was something Qing was adept at.

Even while holding the famed knife of the world, the Cheonhwa-geom, she could easily change, and with just two hands working, her outfit transformed in a blink of an eye.

After switching to the Divine Maiden Sect’s attire, Qing stepped outside the carriage once more.

“Oh! Jayu. Can you change my face mask too?”

Having completed her transformation into a flawless persona, Qing headed out of the alley towards the carriage.

Meanwhile, in the Gye-rim Sword Faction’s manor, an eerie silence lingered.

They were still shocked by the sudden meat craving of the “meat-loving beauty” Unyeonjeong.

“Hmm, getting back to the topic we were discussing earlier…”

Yo Min, the third child of the Yoga Salt Workshop, awkwardly tried to regain control of the atmosphere.

“I definitely said we’ll endure it all until this year, and if we don’t want to see blood spilled during the auspicious Spring Festival—”

Murmurs arose from behind.

This Spring Festival, should we try cooking Dongpo Pork? But Dongpo Pork is notoriously difficult to master, isn’t it? Maybe just braised pork would be easier? The raw meat sounds appealing now; shall we have a drink later?

“Shut up, can’t you!?”

Yo Min yelled, frustrated.

He came here with orders to stir excitement among the crowd but found himself humiliated by some crazy girl barging in.

“If you’ve got nothing serious to say, just leave. It seems you don’t have any relevant business here.”

Although that wasn’t Qing’s intention, it helped the disciples of the Gye-rim Sword Faction restore their calm.

Not only that, but some disciples were even swallowing their saliva, their appetites rekindled.

That was infinitely better than shaking in rage with flushed faces.

“Damn, what bad luck. Ugh, spit!”

The atmosphere had turned tense.

Ultimately, Yo Min, barely containing himself, turned only to be interrupted by another girl, this time, a maiden with a veil, pushing her way through the spectators.

She was tall. Wasn’t she that Unyeonjeong?

But the maiden’s words were sharp.

“Who taught you to spit on someone else’s faction? Spitting in a sacred Taoist temple, do you also spit on your own family’s altar?”

The Gye-rim Sword Faction is, after all, a sect.

Just remember that almost every sect labeled as Zhengpai or something similar is affiliated with a Taoist school.

“Ha, what’s this? Are you a celestial beauty? Because of that girl, every dog and pig is throwing a tantrum, making a mess.”

Looking closely, the maiden wasn’t the crazy girl but a well-dressed Daoist.

“Hmph.”

To prevent another disaster like before, he tried to shout and find someone in the back of the crowd peering inward, gathering an understanding of the situation.

It turned out that this fellow had been pestering the Gye-rim Sword Faction almost daily, causing a ruckus.

“So what you’re saying is, you’re calling the girl a dog or a pig? Can you take responsibility for claiming that?”

“Ha! If you can, give it a shot. But if you mess with me, don’t expect to be coming out unscathed. Our Dae Namnyeong Yoga has the elders of the Sado Sect supporting us right now—”

Thump!

Qing’s scabbard fell upon Yo Min’s head.

The Moonlight Sword (Ten Years) is already a hefty sword, and with its scabbard on, it gets even heavier.

“Guess what? I’ve touched you now. What’s next? What will happen to this girl? Will there be a storm of lightning?”

“Your audacity! You’re dead now!”

“Oh. I’m dead? Is this the other world? I can’t tell the difference between the afterlife and the living. Everyone, I’m dead, yet how come you’ve all stepped into the afterlife?”

Such comments sparked laughter among the crowd.

“I swear, I’ll kill you!”

A furious Yo Min unsheathed his weapon and charged.

If he could reach the level of the Realm of Transformation, it might be different, but taking action was a reckless venture fueled by overconfidence.

Snap!

With a crisp sound, as he lunged, Yo Min suddenly turned at a right angle and crashed down.

Qing’s fierce slap—no, the brutal slap of the Supreme Hand-to-Hand Combat.

“Damn! You!”

Yo Min sprang up again, charging back.

Snap!

This time, he was slapped with the opposite cheek, spitting out white teeth as he fell.

finally grasping the situation.

A master, a master beyond his comprehension!

Only now did he realize what a fool the Yoga Salt Workshop had sent on an errand.

“Touch me and—”

“The girl is the famed Cheonhwa-geom, Seomun Qing.”

With that, a murmur erupted among the crowd.

Cheonhwa-geom! The Most Beautiful in the World! Some recognized legends!

Qing’s eyebrows twitched.

Why are more titles being added?

What’s this ‘The Most Beautiful in the World’?

Who even uttered that? I’ll remember the voice; let’s see what happens.

Suddenly feeling annoyed.

Thankfully, a suitable outlet for that emotion appeared right in front of her.

“Did you dare spit in the sacred Taoist faction? What comes from a person must return to a person, so why not clean your mess with your tongue?”

“Sure.”

With that, Qing displayed her famous beautiful hands, which no one could dispute as the most beautiful in the world.

“Now, look here, shiny shiny.”

As if splashed by golden light, as she waved her hands around.

“What happens when you get slapped with qi? Isn’t that curious? I’m truly intrigued.”

“Eep!”

Fearing for his life, Yo Min finally gave in and bowed down to the ground, licking the dirt.

He gingerly scooped up some soil and grimaced before swallowing the sandy bits.

And just as he was trying to rise, he found the sharp edge of the Moonlight Sword looming over him.

“See, you did as told.”

Qing gestured with her sword, pointing toward the dirt.

“Oh, was it that spot? Not that one; it was right here, right here.”

“Isn’t this a spitting mark? Why are you licking the wrong patch?”

“Oh, I see. Right here? Wait, this isn’t a rock but sand, isn’t it?”

“Right here then. My apologies.”

“Honestly, it wouldn’t matter where, but until I say it’s okay to look up, can you keep licking dirt?”

Some say that rolling in dog dung was better than to die.

For Yo Min, from now on, he’ll forever be known as the earth-licking fool.

It’s likely he won’t get past that title, forever wallowing in shame.

Of course, this humiliation wasn’t just his; it would undoubtedly bring disgrace to his faction as well.

Any ordinary martial artist would rather die than endure such disgrace.

But for this fool who hadn’t even realized he was sent to be humiliated, it seemed he was still clinging to life.

But why, after all this, are they just standing back and watching?

Qing cast a glance at the disciples of the Gye-rim Sword Faction.

They looked shocked, mouth agape, but strangely they were just watching the dirt-licking Yo Min.

“Ahem.”

Qing cleared her throat dramatically, catching the attention of the burliest disciple present.

He finally snapped back to reality and stepped forward to speak.

“Enough, that’s enough.”

Zhang Disciple Da Daljeon looked on with a thoroughly amused expression.

He continued, “If it were me, I’d rather bite my tongue and die than crawl on the ground and bring disgrace to my faction’s name. So let’s call it quits. I’m asking you.”

Though his words seemed to stop the act, they were practically directed toward the crowd.

“Well, since the owner of the faction said so, I suppose I must let it go.”

Qing responded, matching his tone.

In doing so, the Gye-rim Sword Faction inadvertently obtained a favor from Qing by saving Yo Min.

On the flip side, Yo Min arrived seeking trouble only to face humiliation, and ironically, he ended up receiving kindness instead.

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