Chapter 509

The structure of the manor beloved by the officials of the Central Plain is known as a Siheyuan-style manor.

It begins with a square foundation, followed by walls built around it, with a garden placed in the center.

The more luxurious the manor, the taller the walls and the larger the garden; in fact, the landlord’s manor resembles a fortress, almost as tall as a one-and-a-half-story building.

Constructing such a mansion in the middle of the city is a show of the landlord’s power.

Just as the Deputy Commander is referred to as Great General, a landlord is often called “Lord Landlord.”

Qing, with the spirit of a carpenter, gleamed with excitement while examining the house.

She was sincere, but only when she wasn’t being a warrior.

Regardless, the landlord’s mind was a jumbled mess of thoughts at the moment.

In a twist of fate, while trying to entertain the Deputy Commander, he found himself unexpectedly hosting the esteemed Mama.

What kind of lady has the Deputy Commander trembling and bowing so low?

From the Deputy Commander on up, they’re referred to as Great Generals.

Usually, the most senior officials, who oversee military affairs, are the last to arrive.

Considering the heavy bottlenecks in personnel matters in the kingdom, this implied that the lady could either promote someone a few ranks higher or was a powerful backer.

A royal? Or perhaps a close confidante of Her Majesty the Empress, the current power behind the throne?

The landlord’s mind raced through potential connections and family trees.

When it comes to connections, this is a unique system in the Central Plain, which they pronounce as Guanxi in Qing’s hometown.

Should I raise the idea of grabbing a line from the city commander right now?

Or maybe…

Even a monkey falls from trees, so lying down and munching on rice cakes might lead to choking.

The landlord had been daydreaming far too much.

And it wasn’t until he arrived at the prepared banquet hall that he thought, oh no.

There are already guests inside—

“Oh, look, there are guests in there already?”

“Huh? Lord Landlord? No way.”

“W-wait, just one cup of tea—”

But before the landlord could hastily remedy the situation, a servant, preparing inside, burst through the door to greet him.

And then.

“Oh wow. This is something.”

Qing couldn’t help but exclaim.

Beautiful ladies in stunning outfits were kneeling politely, hands clasped, waiting.

The description “draping” was precisely fitting; what should be resting on their shoulders was stuck under their elbows.

This was a banquet set to host the Deputy Commander, so there would naturally be more than just drinks prepared.

They were the finest flowers of the city.

For someone of the landlord’s stature, there was no need to go through any trouble to procure the finest courtesans.

Being a nobleman’s concubine was a dream for all courtesans, which meant they all rushed to attend whenever the landlord held a banquet.

Consequently, the ladies’ glances toward Qing were far from friendly.

What’s this? She’s not from around here, so why’s she crashing our party?

Why is she even a courtesan with that face and body?

Just hanging around in front of the imperial palace would probably land her right in front of the Emperor!

Their expressions were half suspicion, half admiration.

In the awkward moment, the ladies’ dresses flowed smoothly, their silky garments practically melting away from their skin.

“Oh wow.”

Qing exclaimed once more.

In an instant, two faces turned pale.

The landlord’s face turned a deep shade of violet while Wang Sang-ryong’s complexion turned so pale he looked sick, both expressing the same feeling: this is a disaster!

And this is where the difference in ranks comes into play.

In similar emergencies, an Supreme Martial Artist would react faster than a Supreme Martial Artist of lower rank, and those of even lower tiers would lag behind.

If it came to it, one might say the Deputy Commander holds a rank comparable to the later stages of Transformation.

But the landlord, with a mid-level status in martial arts, was unmatched in social finesse.

“Let’s go!!!”

Wang Sang-ryong called out.

It was a classic case of a “cut and run.”

I did nothing wrong, I had no idea.

This was all the landlord’s scheme.

“Lord Landlord! What on earth is this?!”

“Uh, well…”

Just then, the landlord was sweating profusely.

“Oh. I’m not crashing, am I? I hope I’m not imposing…”

“Let’s go!!! Lord Landlord! This is truly an impressive reception!!”

Wang Sang-ryong immediately changed his attitude.

“I couldn’t help but exclaim in my excitement. When I’m this impressed, I have the habit of shouting ‘let’s go!’”

The landlord was dumbfounded and frustrated.

Who was going to take the blame for that?

That guy, who was supposed to be chastising me, turned around and acted like nothing happened!

It takes a thick-skinned person to become a Deputy Commander; he must have skin like steel, bouncing back from any embarrassment.

Meanwhile, Qing swallowed hard.

And suddenly, something struck her.

San-i had mentioned taking her to the number one place in Luoyang.

Ah!

In the rush, she completely missed Oki-rin’s grand celebration.

(Not that it even began yet; it was planned so that Qing’s arrival would kick it off.)

She had intended to have a good time with the young lady, but Ha Bei? Maybe she would swing by Hangzhou for a quick visit.

Regardless, Qing was having a blast.

The two officials dared not show any interest in female company in the presence of the Mama, which was a sad affair for the courtesans hoping to become concubines.

And among those unwittingly caught up in it all was Jongjeongpil, once known as the lone wolf and now the emblematic red sword of disaster.

He wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about indulging in feminine pleasures.

Of course, he wasn’t like Chang-bin.

After all, a renowned master of Transformational Arts is treated like royalty anywhere, so what need would he have for women?

Thus he slurped his drink, glaring at Qing, appearing every bit as bored as could be.

Weren’t we supposed to have something to discuss?

Why’s he suddenly all cheerful around the ladies?

Qing chose to ignore it.

They say if you save someone from drowning, they’ll demand payment.

After rescuing him from the hellhole of nagging, now he wants to complain about people having fun?

What’s up with that? Is he too pouting for these lavish banquets?

But Qing had no time to think.

“Although I have entered the military, as a practitioner of martial arts, how could I not respect a great warrior who achieved the pinnacle at just twenty? Regardless of age or gender, I have always admired the Grandmaster Cheonhwa and wish to raise a toast in this place!”

“Hey, don’t say that. Wow, this is great.”

“I feel the same! Although I was just a trapper, I have long admired the martial world since childhood, but now that I’m old, I’ve reluctantly given up. Thus, to meet a renowned master brings joy akin to the formidable salmon swimming upstream against the current. So, I’ll also raise a toast!”

“They say age is just a number. It’s never too late, um, no wait. I’ll drink heartily.”

Wow, Qing gulped down the refreshing drink.

Thanks to her Blood Poison Body, be it water or wine, poison or even the stinking sludge of a sewer, it all came down to hydration for Qing.

Yet, she still felt great!

The two high-ranking officials glanced at Qing.

The way she drank, it was clear she wasn’t just your average drinker.

In truth, rumors had long circulated stating that the Grandmaster Cheonhwa was a legendary drinker.

He was said to have downed potent liquor straight from the vat without betraying the slightest change in expression.

There was no need to hold back on refills!

“I am still occupied with military affairs, so I remain at the tail end of my development; to old Master Muhak, I’d be a junior. Here, take this drink!”

The praises hung heavy in the air for Jongjeongpil.

Why is he practicing courtesy when surrounded by an Supreme Martial Artist and a Transformation Artist?

“Let’s not go too far. Ahhh, is this Zhimu Liquor we’re having?”

“Oh! You know about Zhimu Liquor? Originally, Shandong has the clearest water in the Central Plains, and if Emperor Jin sought out the elixir of life, it would surely be found in Shandong. Hence, the finest liquor comes from the finest water, and the top liquor is made from the waters of No Mountain, thus Zhimu Liquor. Here, take a glass!”

“Hmm, No Mountain. Lady.”

Qing slammed the liquor down, ahhhh, even if No Mountain wasn’t great, the liquor sure was fantastic.

As Qing’s cup emptied, the Deputy Commander on her left and the landlord on her right exchanged glances, both competing to refill her glass.

The courtesans flanking Qing were bewildered.

If you two are going to refill drinks, why were we even invited?

Is this a drinking party or a training session?

Getting up to refill drinks, sitting down, then getting back up again, and again to refill!

Is this a drinking game or a workout?

Regardless.

Qing was thoroughly enjoying herself.

—-

On a particular date.

Jongjeongpil asked Qing, the theoretical mentor of the joint Muhak.

At the very least, the Deputy Commander and the landlord were among the upper echelons of officials, their authority ferocious as tigers, making everyone wary, ruling arrogantly like kings over a mountain.

So how is it that these ferocious beasts are rolling over like well-trained dogs around you?

To which Qing replied.

It’s not right to judge based on a superficial glance; there’s no particular gain or convenience involved, just the friendship of fellow travelers, even if briefly.

Qing was blabbering nonsense.

She certainly didn’t treat the matter of being the princess of the nation lightly, but comparing it to the feeling of a friend met on a journey wasn’t entirely a falsehood either.

“Hm. If that’s the case, I won’t pry further.”

Jongjeongpil responded, deciding to let it slide.

And then again.

Jongjeongpil (omitted) asked.

“You have certainly proposed a dreamlike future where all warriors of the world share Muhak, pondering together. Yet, was that merely a deception to evade immediate crisis?”

“Um, to be honest… Maybe, yes?”

Qing responded cautiously, glancing around.

However, Jongjeongpil didn’t appear particularly angry or disappointed.

“Nevertheless, it’s clear that what I heard wasn’t just trivial thoughts. So, did you create such an ideology yourself, or did you hear and remember it from someone else?”

The inquiries came naturally down the line.

Qing didn’t particularly want to hear about it either, so it didn’t concern her.

“Hmm. Let me see.”

Qing selected her words carefully.

That bearded fellow probably hasn’t even been born yet.

Wait, maybe he’s an ancient figure writing books by now? How would I know?

In truth, that bearded figure, let alone his great-grandfather, wouldn’t have been born yet.

But how could Qing possibly know that?

Yet, hardly anything could stifle her chatter.

Because Qing could discuss the greatest topics under the heavens.

“In the past, Wang Mang said that the reason people quarrel is out of greed for each other’s wealth. If no one owned anything, there would be no fighting. Hence, I aim to ensure the peace of my realm.”

In fact, Wang Mang wasn’t a red villain, but rather a complete radical, or a total owner of nothing.

People fought over wealth.

So I’ll take all the possessions to free you!

Then I will be rich, and you will be poor.

The result was that he ended up murdered by a mob of poor folks, but still.

“Why bring up a villain?”

At this, Jongjeongpil’s voice rose slightly.

Wang Mang was implicated in the nefarious acts in Chinese history.

Just for reference, the others responsible included Dong Zhuo, Cao Cao, and Sima Yi, all infamous for their viciousness.

To be honest, Sima Yi might be somewhat innocent.

The great fools of the Central Plain are all labeled rebels, yet if they didn’t rebel, they’d still be twisted like pretzel by the son-of-a-bitch of a landlord whose family would perish, and they’d be doomed.

One could argue it was a survival instinct of rebellion.

However, the reason Sima Yi is synonymous with rebellion is that he committed treason not once, but twice.

Once under Han, once under Wei.

In any case, Jongjeongpil felt a sense of grievance.

The very ideals that he sincerely admired fashioned into his life’s principles turned out to have arisen from the lips of Wang Mang!

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