Chapter 53
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 53
Chapter Title: Blood Brush
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So-hyang knew full well that stashing and retrieving an item from her cleavage looked utterly indecent.
It wasn't for the thrill of watching him react as if she were some common harlot. There was a clear reason for deliberately wedging it between her flesh rather than hiding it in a pouch or the folds of her sleeve.
"It's more dangerous than I thought, isn't it...?"
Compared to the sword-shaped Blood Curse she'd encountered before, the total amount of energy it contained wasn't particularly impressive.
But "dangerous" here meant its erratic, malevolent peculiarities.
The sword-shaped Blood Curse that So-hyang had melted down and hammered into the framework of her spirit sword had only a relatively simple function: it eroded its user and drove them mad with bloodlust and slaughter.
The Blood Brush, inscribed with Songmun script, possessed a far more complex mechanism.
"If you leave it alone without infusing it with energy, it hides its true nature perfectly."
A brush crafted from fine wood and squirrel hair with masterful skill. It even carried a faint, elegant pine scent that could almost pass for a touch of the Daoist heart.
It truly seemed like a masterpiece worthy of a gift.
"And if you use it in this state, it's no different from any ordinary brush."
So-hyang borrowed an inkstone and ink from the hut and dashed off a few characters to demonstrate.
Listen to the Way in the morning, and death in the evening is acceptable.
The neat calligraphy drew an involuntary gasp of admiration from Qingxu True Person.
"Heavens, what superb penmanship."
"Ahaha, thanks for the compliment, but that's not the point right now, is it?"
As she infused it with spirit energy, the soft pine scent gave way to the fishy, cloying stench of blood.
Instead of the carefully ground ink, thick blood saturated the bristles.
"Once it reveals its true form... every stroke written with it gains a demonic nature?"
The ink-black strokes turned a vivid crimson, like freshly spilled blood.
And the once proper, elegant characters writhed on the paper, twisting their form of their own accord.
A script that was graceful and beautiful, yet insidiously eerie.
Death in the morning— what use is enlightenment in the evening?
Even the embedded meaning had been maliciously inverted.
"...My goodness."
Qingxu True Person fully grasped the peril of the bizarre spectacle So-hyang had demonstrated firsthand, letting out a sigh laced with shock.
It wasn't just a sinister appearance. Every stroke from the Blood Brush imbued a sticky demonic essence.
An ordinary person or low-level martial artist without tempered resolve might feel suicidal impulses upon seeing such words, even hanging themselves.
A poem praising nature would morph into curses decrying the world; a scripture on morality would become a depraved rant promoting chaos.
It didn't merely beguile the user with demonic allure—it could mass-produce temporary demonic entities.
"Does this demonic essence... persist permanently?"
"No, once it reveals its true form, it dissipates like vapor."
The problem was that until then, it maintained its effects indefinitely, unbound by distance or time.
In practical terms, the danger was scarcely different from true permanence.
"And the real danger comes when it's used in sorcery."
"...!! P-Primordial Celestial Venerable...!"
Qingxu True Person listened to So-hyang's explanation, his face paling, hands trembling uncontrollably.
In spells or incantations infused with intent and energy via script, it would completely reverse the intended purpose.
A protective formation safeguarding a region would become a furnace roasting those inside alive.
A talisman invoking fortune would transform into a curse object brimming with baleful qi.
Even more terrifying: the transformation could be triggered at will.
The horrifying scalability, concealed flawlessly and executable remotely.
Pure malice, ruthlessly vicious.
"...And there's one more thing."
"Wh-what else could be left...?"
The reason she'd had to keep the brush tucked deep in her cleavage the entire journey.
More precisely, why she'd had to continuously suppress it with spirit energy and intent through direct skin contact.
"Its peculiarity... spreads contagiously?"
"What did you just—"
It imprinted its essence onto nearby brushes, charcoal, even twigs used for doodling—any writing tool.
With its blood qi and demonic nature neatly concealed, it imbued every nearby stroke or drawing with its own power.
"Primordial Celestial Venerable, my goodness."
To dismiss it as accidentally including a sinister trinket was too lenient...
Widespread mental corruption of immense potency, sorcery inversion to malevolent ends, and plague-like contagion.
It was a strategic weapon of inexpressible, extreme danger.
A single misstep could brand the entire Wudang Sect as public enemies, forcing them to seal their gates.
Qingxu True Person covered his ashen face with trembling hands and let out a deep sigh.
"...It feels like Qi Deviation coming on."
"...So that's why you bypassed the main gate and took the back path. For such a matter, a secret visit was indeed proper."
The Blood Brush's peril was too great to chalk up to mere oversight in circulation.
"Its functions are far too conveniently versatile as well."
A combination that exploited perceptual gaps with exquisite precision, boasting a wide array of abilities.
In short, highly artificial.
"I'm fairly knowledgeable about crafting treasures and artifacts myself. This looks like a hybrid of two or three demonic weapons or dharma treasures."
Even concealed and shipped out through official channels...
The youth's lips clenched, teeth grinding audibly.
"Indeed. It seems there are vermin in our home mountain."
Vermin within Wudang secretly producing such abominations.
"This must be the Blood Cult's scheme, trying to plunge the Central Plains into chaos once more..."
His face twisted in fury and dismay, unable to cling to immovable mind as savage aura leaked out.
Despite his profound cultivation, Qingxu True Person struggled to calm his shaken heart.
Because he had lived long enough to remember.
A horrific war with the Blood Cult that began 140 years ago and ended 70 years ago.
Nearly 70 years of unrelenting nightmare.
Where even supreme experts were mere trifles amid the filthy, sordid carnage.
"Ahem, pull yourself together."
As the eyes beyond the blue cloth began reminiscing the past, So-hyang clapped lightly to redirect his attention.
"The important thing is the present. What will you do about this?"
Qingxu True Person snapped back at the clear clap, lifting his head.
"...My apologies. I was briefly shaken."
The response he offered was straightforward.
Purge the spies hidden in Wudang and seal away all concealed abominations.
"Of course, we must offer due compensation and apologies to the Zhuge Clan... but for now, we prioritize cleaning house. Grant us a few weeks' grace, if you will. We'll resolve it by then."
"That much is fine... but can you really root out all the traitors in that time?"
These were the people who hadn't sensed a thing until it blew up—and sent what amounted to a biochemical weapon from her past life as a "friendly gift" to allies.
Crude as it sounded, they were incompetent in this matter.
She doubted a few weeks' extension would suffice.
"I have no defense, but this time will be different."
His voice carried regret and weariness, yet resolute conviction.
"I will handle it personally."
Qingxu True Person unbound the blue cloth over his eyes, meeting So-hyang's gaze directly.
Qingxu True Person's eyes were black.
Or white.
Perhaps gray.
Every color and none at all, all at once.
Yin and yang swirled fiercely within, yet flowed vast and serene.
The principles of Taiji and Wuji were fully embodied in Qingxu True Person's eye sockets.
"Ah, the Life and Death Omen Eyes?"
It was a fragment of transcendence in the form of eyes.
"Indeed. I will personally descend and eradicate those evil sprouts. Trust in me."
"Well, if you put it that way, I suppose I can..."
So-hyang teased playfully.
"But are those eyes reliable?"
Like seeks like, after all. What guarantee against Wudang folk overlooking things in plain sight?
"You demand proof of trust...?"
Qingxu True Person blinked slowly, sighing deeply.
"Your body's age and soul's maturity are mismatched."
"...Oh."
Her reflection shone perfectly in eyes vast as the cosmos.
"Reincarnation, transmigration, or perhaps a descent ritual. Yet no unnatural aura, no discord between body and soul."
The sensation of being dissected from a higher dimension—So-hyang had felt it before.
"Close to retaining awareness through the wheel of rebirth. But your soul's nature is extraordinary."
Similar to when the Alliance Leader peered at her with sky-holding eyes.
Even more precise, intricate.
"Indeed, a soul from another world...? A realm without natural spirits or martial arts—fascinating origin."
"Heavens, how deeply does it see...?"
It felt like even her innards were laid bare—chilling.
Not even before Martial Alliance Leader Namgung Geukbeon had it felt this way.
"Compared to the current Alliance Leader or Sword Sovereign, my eyes won't lose out."
Even thoughts were read.
"Impressive...!"
So-hyang's eyes sparkled with interest.
"But it's not what you see that matters, but what you do. Too much needless vision can paralyze progress."
"Well, seeing and comprehending are separate skills. You have your burdens."
"...Now that even my age is exposed, your speech remains casual?"
"Even including my past life, you're still the elder."
"—What?"
As Qingxu True Person's eyes fixed on So-hyang, she met them squarely.
Tracing back through that transcendent gaze harmonizing yin and yang, she glimpsed—however faintly—how he perceived the world.
"Roughly over 200 years old. Unless it's a dozen years' gap like with Namgung Geukbeon, speaking casually at over 50 years' difference feels off, doesn't it?"
Qingxu True Person stared at the beaming So-hyang in bewilderment.
Mimicking Life and Death Omen Eyes, even partially? Absurd.
"Ha, what manner of monster is this...?"
For the first time since Namgung Geukbeon, he keenly felt on the verge of being surpassed by a junior.
"Fine then, I'll trust you to handle the purge. Do as you see fit."
Tasked by the Zhuge Clan, she'd fulfilled her duty, but So-hyang had little personal interest in such matters.
Her role was ensuring safety while raising the issue and delivering the item.
She had no intent to assist in the hunt or press for compensation. They'd manage themselves.
The Zhuge Clan Head hadn't delegated that far anyway.
Attaching Zhuge Hansang was for that reason.
In essence, official business concluded here.
"Now, may I discuss a personal matter?"
"...A personal matter?"
With a gentle smile, she raised both hands in greeting salute.
"White Lotus Sword So-hyang. This rivers-and-lakes junior humbly requests a match with the esteemed Wudang senior, Qingxu True Person."
The past few weeks of leisurely travel: teaching the children, encountering wondrous beasts, sparring with skilled spearmen.
Seeing them develop personalities, gain insights, and progress was heartening.
The house-sized tiger was adorable.
The veterans' spearwork was decently entertaining.
Honestly, it was boring. Unsatisfying.
In the end, her reason for venturing into the jianghu was growth.
Wasn't So-hyang's journey a martial odyssey?
Now, at last, she could sate her hunger a bit. She smiled with eager anticipation.