Chapter 430

The inside of the carriage is absolutely extravagant.

The wooden finishes are impeccably smooth, with not a single splinter in sight, and the well-joined wood is so tidy that not even a coin could slip through the gaps.

On top of that, there’s even a stove mounted on the wall—completely disregarding the basic purpose of a carriage to adapt to heat or cold, this setup screams luxury.

Thus, one wall has a spacious seat that’s more than just a chair but less than a bed, draped with translucent fabric.

With an utterly bored expression, a figure is lazily poking at the woman beside him while burying his hand in her chest.

“Are you curious how much more I need to poke before it burst? Please stop teasing my sister, Cheonhwa-geom. Don’t you fear what others might think?”

“Huh? I’m fine, though?”

“You’re the problem too. Aren’t you ashamed in front of outsiders? Why do you act like it’s normal to flaunt yourself? Any decent person wouldn’t behave like this in front of others.”

“But I’m her older sister, right? I can touch a bit, can’t I?”

“I, Lang-lang, find this incomprehensible. Is it normal for a younger sister to tease her older sister’s bosom?”

“Honestly, I don’t know! I didn’t have any sisters before my adoption. But shouldn’t I be allowed to do what I want with my sister?”

“Your common sense is completely out of whack. You’re quite the cunning opponent.”

“Yep! Because I’m a master now.”

“No, that’s not it. What in the world…”

Lang-lang brushes her hands across her face in frustration.

Regardless, Cheong casually squeezes and pats the soft skin that wraps around his fingers and enjoys the delightful bounciness, thoroughly indulging himself.

“Really, all I want is to enjoy my sister’s bosom.”

“Even if you pretend it’s normal, it’s still a rather peculiar situation. Typically, sisters don’t grope each other—especially not in front of others.”

“Honestly, I just have a complicated mind.”

Gyeon Pohee throws in with a playful smile.

Lang-lang pauses, halting her words, and ultimately shakes her head.

“This is terribly embarrassing. I can’t believe my insightful self is being outsmarted by someone so naïve. Pretending to be foolish enough to make someone a fool? I admit, I underestimated you. Your groping is a display of emotional instability, Cheonhwa-geom. Do you agree?”

Cheong, as if he’s just woken up from a nap, suddenly focuses and looks at Lang-lang.

“Huh? What?”

“About the bosom.”

“Oh right. Bosoms. Why do they feel so good? There are other soft and squishy parts of the body too, like the inside of the upper arms or belly fat.”

“I find it impossible to grasp the context of this conversation. But it’s interesting, so please, continue.”

“Listen. The size, shape, and texture of bosoms vary from person to person, you know? Like, my sister’s are huge and soft, almost like they’re dripping through my fingers?”

“I had no desire to know that information.”

“Then there are those with smaller bosoms, right? Sometimes their upper arms or belly fat can feel even softer? But strangely, they just aren’t as satisfying as bosoms.”

“Hm. That’s quite intriguing. So?”

“So, bosoms have this captivating appeal that draws people in. So, I don’t need a deeper reason to touch my sister’s bosom.”

“Quite the grand excuse you have. So, this act of groping has nothing to do with your emotional unrest, then?”

“Yup. I’m perfectly fine! Totally normal! Just like always!”

“Well, I’ll just take your word for it for now.”

Cheong’s assigned term lasts until winter.

It’s now March, with spring finally upon us after an unexpected month added to their journey due to the Lunar New Year.

Cheong fell into the ancient Central Plains around this time, so in a sense, he finally considers his six-year stint in the Martial World to have begun.

He’s already taken down several masters in the Realm of Transformation.

Yet, even so, he’s still just a late-stage disciple.

He’s not quite in a position to actively engage in the entangled complexities surrounding the Martial Alliance, the Gangster Group, and the Blood Sect just yet.

“I can’t thank you enough, Cheonhwa-geom. You are a benefactor of the Jin family.”

“That… sounds strangely like a farewell.”

“Isn’t it time for you to return? Winter has passed, so it’s high time you head back to your clan?”

“But there are still Blood Sect folks around…”

“Originally, those Blood Sect guys are the type to cut and run at the slightest sign of trouble. Their plots have already fizzled out. Now your alliance must conduct thorough investigations.”

“But my fellow disciples are not here at Jin Gajang yet…”

At this, Jin Jagang smiles contentedly.

“After all, stopping the Blood Sect’s scheme was solely your doing too. No wonder the matriarch praises you so highly. How could she be silent with such a well-bred disciple? In fact, she must have been holding back her pride!”

“Hehe, don’t exaggerate it.”

“It’s not fitting for me to look at you as a senior member of the Zhengpai. So leave the future to the elders.”

In reality, lingering in Gwangju would just waste time with seemingly nothing to do.

The Gwangju gangsters had been utterly dismantled, leaving quite the gaping hole in their ranks.

It’s firmly imprinted in everyone’s minds that associating with the Gangster Group can only lead to bad outcomes, so it shouldn’t pose much of a problem for Jin Gajang to take on newcomers.

If he stayed, what would there even be to see?

Hmm… perhaps just Jin Seol’s scandalous outfit?

That thought flitted through his mind until…

“I’ve had a few outfits made for Cheonhwa-geom.”

“Wow, thank you! Why go to such lengths?”

“No matter how much we say a garment is defined by the face, it’s just the beauty and not the sense of style that’s heavily lacking. Especially for large-breasted women who struggle with owning good outfits.”

“That doesn’t sound right…”

“Nope. Cheonhwa-geom is the worst dressed person I know; honestly, it’s atrocious—no, sinful levels of bad.”

Jin Seol firmly states.

Thus, Cheong tries on an outfit.

“Um, Jin Seol? This… isn’t this just, like, completely naked?”

With a thin skirt hiked up to her chest and a sleeveless vest thrown over, Cheong shudders at the sheer embarrassment.

The sheer vest only covers the front with gaps for the wind to whoosh through; it barely reaches the solar plexus.

Her ample bosom’s heavy curves are fully on display.

What’s this? This is no skillful dressing but straight-up exposure!

If someone looked up from beneath, they’d see her nipples!

How the heck am I supposed to run in this?

It’s so airy it would flip over, turning me into a walking breastfeeding ad!

But Jin Seol is all seriousness.

“Summer’s purportedly going to be especially hot, and last year’s daring expressions have been in vogue. I’ve heard that Oki-rin has a profound interest in revealing styles. So this upcoming summer’s fashion is bound to be bolder and put more emphasis on beautiful curves. Especially for someone like Cheonhwa-geom with larger bosoms, see? Your waist is revealed perfectly!”

And so, she tries on various outfits she supposedly had made.

“Jin Seol? This is a bit too deep, right? It’s far, um, I mean, it needs to be more moderate.”

“Did you live during the Warring States period or something? Even Confucius would just look at that with appreciation. It’s just showing a bit of your upper bosom!”

“Uh, Jin Seol? Why is there no fabric to cover my solar plexus? Just two lines down the center? Did I wear it wrong? Am I upside down?”

“Cheonhwa-geom, since your bosoms are so big, the indent of your upper bosom is apparent, this is one of the beauties too. It’s lovely.”

All of them would push someone to the peak of exposure or transform them into vain show-offs.

“Uh, Jin Seol? I don’t think this whole exposure thing suits me…”

“Just wear the top. If it’s truly troublesome, you can find another top. The completion of an outfit relies on the skirt anyway. But still, you ought to dress up nicely, with such a beautiful figure. Wouldn’t want to waste it.”

In the Central Plain, women’s clothing is split between the skirt and the top.

Rather than distinguishing between upper and lower garments like Cheong’s hometown, it’s about wearing a skirt and filling in everything else.

Thus, all sorts of skirts exist, whether worn over the shoulders or tied above the bosom. They can fit anywhere from the bosom down to the belly and hip.

The styles vary greatly: some drop straight, some are pleated and swish, some are puffy and fluttery, and others neatly cinch below the butt.

The skirt, being the most crucial element, must be selected first.

So, the clothes Jin Seol had made for her revolve around the tops as mere side pieces, with the real beauty lying in the skirts.

In fact, Jin Seol’s handmade skirts are the pinnacle of top-tier fashion that every woman in Zhengpai dreams of.

Even the tiniest difference creates a masterpiece.

Under Jin Seol’s skilled hands, even a subtle difference works wonders in showcasing her beauty.

“Um. I’ll wear them. Even if that top isn’t quite right.”

“I’d love to make you more, but with work being so busy, I just didn’t have the time.”

With that, Cheong looks at the huge bundle of clothes she must carry.

She’s never made clothes before.

But she can estimate that it would have taken every spare moment outside of her duties to make this much.

But then again, can that even be the case?

Does someone really have that sewing-machine skill?

Just the thought of Jin Seol, who must have been sewing constantly, unintentionally makes a smile creep across her face.

“Thank you. I’ll wear them well.”

“I’m the one who’s more grateful, in many ways.”

And then Cheong picks up on the mood.

Oh, this is the moment for a hug.

So, Cheong boldly opens her arms.

Jin Seol chuckles softly and soon steps into her embrace.

And on the day he leaves, Yeom Hwi-young confidently sits in the driver’s seat of the six-horse carriage, giving a thumbs-up while slyly pointing behind her.

Where on earth did she find such a carriage?

They wouldn’t lend such fine ones at the stables, would they?

But hey, whatever’s good is good!

And thus, the journey home begins.

However, isn’t the Central Plain a vast place?

From Gwangju, heading north past Cheongwon, Yangsan, Yanju, passing through the southernmost edge of Hunan Province to reach Chinjoo, and then into Hyungyang…

When Cheong first left Gwangju, he was worried about leaving those Blood Sect bastards behind.

So, looking out the window, eyes sparkling, he kept an eye out, ready to smash any passing Blood Sect members apart with a vengeful fury.

But then again, those guys don’t exactly wear “Blood Sect” signs on their foreheads.

Plus, their communication tech has reached advanced levels that transcend time itself.

Who could ever guess that among the Jiangshi, some could converse with those positioned far away?

In fact, even the one who created them would be baffled and say, “What are these kids? How do they possess such abilities? It’s quite fascinating! How can they speak to family situated far away?”

Anyway, Cheong, fueled with intent to kill off all the Blood Sect scum, was gritting his teeth.

But that feeling can last only for a day or two.

Traveling by carriage is an act that promotes comfort for the legs while torturing the rear end.

Yet, since the carriage is luxurious enough to be comfortable for the backside as well, one’s body being comfortable inevitably leads to wandering thoughts.

Thus, Cheong’s mind drifts, contemplating what makes a good person versus a bad person, the difference between someone who benefits the community and someone who benefits individuals.

And pondering the morality of killing off bad guys, while also wondering why he never tires of poking at his uncle’s bosom all day long—perhaps he was under some kind of drug?

Is it the only governmental-approved drug? One can’t simply explain the numerous statues from primitive times with exaggerated bosoms appearing for no reason…

And the carriage continues its roll.

Toward my sweet home.

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