The Return of the Maiden of Yue

"…."

Yoo Jeong's face contorted at the sight before her.

She had been searching the Punglim Sect's compound for evidence. She had found exactly what she was looking for, but her eyes only grew cold and dark.

They dare claim to be a neutral sect between the orthodox and unorthodox after committing such atrocities?

It was a small, desolate room with nothing but a single cot. No windows, no other furniture. And inside, there was a woman.

Her hands were chained, pinned to the wall. A blindfold covered her eyes, and a gag was stuffed into her mouth to prevent her from biting her tongue to commit suicide. She was entirely naked, her body covered in pale, dried stains and dark bruises.

Step.

As Yoo Jeong took a step toward her, the woman, sensing a presence, woke with a violent shudder. Almost reflexively, she parted her legs.

Her swollen thighs and groin were covered in pale, yellowish stains. No matter how ignorant Yoo Jeong was of sexual matters, it was impossible not to realize what had been done to her.

Quietly, Yoo Jeong formed a sword-finger gesture with her delicate hand. With two swift, silent swipes, she severed the chains and removed the woman's blindfold.

Fearing she might scream or do something reckless, Yoo Jeong left the gag in place for a moment and met her gaze. The woman's eyes were dull and vacant. But as her lifeless gaze focused on Yoo Jeong, her eyes widened slightly upon realizing her savior was not one of the men who constantly tormented her, but a beautiful woman. Only then did Yoo Jeong whisper in her ear to calm down and remove the gag.

"…Who… are you?" the woman asked, her voice cracking as if she hadn't been given a drop of water in days. Seeing her lips split like a parched rice paddy in a drought, Yoo Jeong pulled a canteen from her robes.

"Let's just say I'm someone who came to save you."

"W-water..."

"Yes. It's right here, so drink slowly."

Even though the chains binding her arms were gone, the woman didn't even think to move on her own. She simply held her mouth open, looking like a thoroughly broken, trained animal. With a heavy heart, Yoo Jeong brought the canteen to her lips.

She tilted it gently, letting the water trickle into her mouth so she wouldn't choke. Only when the canteen was nearly empty did a faint spark of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠life return to the woman's eyes. Yoo Jeong finally spoke.

"My lady. Do you happen to know the innkeeper, Master Yi?"

"Ah..."

A gasp escaped the woman's lips. But the emotion behind it was slightly different from what Yoo Jeong had expected.

"You came to save the older sister... But..."

She's dead. It was just as the innkeeper's letter had implied.

"What happened?"

"She was originally supposed to be the wife of that bastard, the young sect leader."

The woman, gradually regaining her composure, continued her story. She, too, had been a martial artist. Though not a supreme master, she had been confident enough to protect herself. Thus, while traveling the Jianghu, she had stopped at Mount Hwang. There, she had been lured into drinking a fine wine offered by the sect, only to lose consciousness and be violated.

"Once they subdued me, they drugged me regularly. I spent more time out of my mind than lucid, and my body was ruined. Even my dantian..."

Aphrodisiacs and energy-dispersing poisons. Yoo Jeong had heard countless warnings about them, both from heroic tales and from her master. If a woman fell victim to them, even a Peak Expert could be brought low by a mere third-class martial artist.

Yoo Jeong asked for her understanding and took her wrist to check her pulse. She slowly channeled her inner qi, just as she had gently poured the water down the parched woman's throat. The diagnostic scan confirmed the woman's words. Her meridians were shriveled and twisted by the poison, completely stripped of their ability to circulate qi. Her condition was so severe that she might die an early death at any moment. Yoo Jeong immediately withdrew her energy.

They didn't use Gunjasan. They used Shinsunpye.

Unlike Gunjasan, which, true to its name as the "Gentleman's Powder," merely dispersed one's inner energy temporarily without causing lasting harm, Shinsunpye was a lethal poison. While its primary function as an energy-dispersing poison was similar, Shinsunpye remained dormant until the victim attempted to circulate their inner qi. Naturally, having the poison flare up while circulating energy was incredibly dangerous, designed specifically to inflict fatal internal injuries.

To force her to ingest such a vicious poison over a long period... they intended to utterly destroy her from the very beginning.

Seeing Yoo Jeong's grim expression, the woman let out a hollow laugh.

"There's no hope, is there?"

"If you escape and receive treatment..."

"I will still be dead as a martial artist, won't I?"

At the quiet, steady question, Yoo Jeong nodded. Receiving that slow but definitive answer, the woman turned her gaze to the ceiling.

"The older sister died because of me."

It was by pure chance that she had learned of the young sect leader's wife. She had overheard the men of the Punglim Sect panting and boasting as they took turns violating her body.

"If only I hadn't discovered her. Or if I had just ignored her, she would still be alive today."

But Master Yi's daughter was a truly good person, just as the letter had described. She was someone who could not turn a blind eye to injustice. She had marched off with a furious expression, only to return shortly after—stripped bare, in the exact same state as the woman.

"From that day on, she suffered the exact same fate as me. I heard she confronted the young sect leader and threatened to report him to the local magistrate."

And the consequences were horrific. Though she was called the young mistress, they had never actually wed. The Punglim Sect's thugs had always looked down on her, mocking her and making her the subject of their vulgar jokes. Once she was thrown to them as a mere plaything, the thugs wasted no time in unleashing their savagery.

Mocking her for not knowing her place, the very men who once called her "madam" brutally violated her. Yet, even as she wept and suffered, whenever the two of them were left alone, Master Yi's daughter would comfort her. She told her to hold on just a little longer. She said that once the letters she always exchanged with her father stopped, he would realize something was wrong and come to save them. She promised that the government and the Namgung Clan would never let such evil go unpunished. She comforted the woman until the very moment she drew her last breath.

"For a sister who didn't even know martial arts... it was all too cruel. One day, she simply didn't wake up. That was how she left."

Having finished her tale, the woman met Yoo Jeong's eyes once more. Unlike the hollow gaze from before, her eyes now burned with a fierce, consuming desire for vengeance. She spoke.

"Since you came looking for her, did her father send you?"

"Yes."

"And you are... incomparably stronger than someone like me."

The woman touched the severed chains. The metal links she had struggled against so desperately, which hadn't budged an inch, had been cleanly sliced through. Though she was in this wretched state, she was still a martial artist. She knew that Yoo Jeong's skill was extraordinary—especially considering she hadn't even drawn her sword.

"Please, you must avenge her."

"First, let's get you out of here so you can receive treatment."

There was no telling when the thugs might burst in. Yoo Jeong intended to smuggle her out first and then return, but when she reached out to support her, the woman refused.

"As a woman, and as a martial artist... my life is already over."

Grab.

She suddenly seized Yoo Jeong's hand, pulling it tightly against her chest, right over her heart.

"If you truly wish to do something for me, grant me peace, and make those bastards pay. Every single one of them, without exception!"

The woman spoke with absolute resolve. Meeting her gaze, Yoo Jeong fell into a strange, contemplative silence.

Why?

Why choose death when her emotions burned so fiercely? It was something Yoo Jeong's mind could not comprehend. He knew that women valued their chastity deeply. But was it truly more important than life itself? He could somewhat understand the despair of losing one's martial arts as a martial artist, but...

If it were me, I would have done everything in my power to reclaim my martial arts.

He had made a promise to his master. He would forge his own sword path. He would show her. Even if Yoo Jeong were to lose his martial arts this very instant, he would have struggled desperately to fulfill that promise. Thus, he could not truly understand her choice.

Yet, Yoo Jeong nodded. Looking into the woman's eyes, a strange, tickling warmth—a burning emotion—welled up inside him. It was an unfamiliar feeling. If it had been the old him, he would have ignored her wishes, saved her by force, and imposed his own will. No, in the first place, he wouldn't have spared a glance or offered help to anyone other than his master. But the person he was now was different.

My emotions have become so volatile.

Except when dealing with his master, Yoo Jeong had always been entirely stoic. But now, he was different. Was it because of his master's absence? Was it because he had achieved harmony? Or was it because he had been transformed into a woman's body through a secret technique? He couldn't be sure of the exact reason, but he felt no desire to resist this change.

In the end, Yoo Jeong channeled his internal energy.

Thump.

A subtle shockwave radiated from his hand pressed against her chest. In a split second, his inner qi surged through her body, and the eyes that had been burning with vengeance lost their light.

Just before the light faded entirely, Yoo Jeong read the profound gratitude in her eyes. He bit his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lip.

I really have changed too much.

Whether this was a good change or a bad one, he did not know.

"I won't forget your share of this debt."

But with a task at hand, he did not dwell on it for long. Yoo Jeong gently closed the woman's now-vacant eyes and stood up.

***

"Fuck. What the hell happened that we have to stand night watch instead of them?"

"No idea. Everyone's keeping their mouths shut. But I heard something happened at the inn yesterday."

"The inn? Which inn?"

"Where ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠else? That place."

"Ah, the Wonhwang Inn?"

The men, heading back after being relieved of their night watch, gossiped like village market women. It was only natural, as they were highly disgruntled. Having their guard shifts suddenly swapped had gone on for two days straight now. But to hear that the reason was the Wonhwang Inn run by old man ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Yi? It made little sense, so one of them immediately pressed further.

"What about it? All his connections are gone, and only old man Yi is left. I saw it wasn't even open today."

"Someone said they saw an incredibly beautiful woman coming out of there."

"A beauty? Wait, let me think... If that's true, the young sect leader must have run into her when he took his men there yesterday, right?"

"That's exactly the problem."

The bald man who had first brought up the inn spoke as if his companion was incredibly dense. "That woman was actually an incredibly powerful master."

"What kind of bullshit is that? They all came back perfectly fine."

"Hey, you idiot. Is our young master the type to see a beauty and just leave her alone? Especially when he had so many men with him?"

"So you're saying they got thrashed by some master and are all groaning in bed?"

"Why else would they all be gathered in one place and not showing their faces? They might look fine on the outside, but they must have suffered internal injuries."

Hearing the bald man's theory, the other man shook his head vigorously. "Who fucking knows. Surely they won't make us do this shit again tomorrow? Let's go use that bitch to empty our pipes."

"You've got a strong stomach. She hasn't been washed in ages."

"Just wipe her down a bit and go at it."

"Forget it. I'd rather hold out and go to a brothel."

"Tender courtesans are nice and all, but they can't match a woman who knows martial arts."

"Bullshit. She's so stretched out now she doesn't even feel like anything... Huh?"

The bald man, who had been walking while sharing these vulgar jokes, suddenly froze.

"What are you doing?"

The man who had stepped ahead turned around without a second thought to look at his silent, motionless companion. What met his eyes was the bald man's head, slowly sliding off his neck.

"What the f—"

Before the man could even process what was happening, a freezing blade pressed against his throat. The owner of the sword stared down at him with a gaze colder than forged steel, colder than the night sky itself.

Uncharacteristically, the man found himself thinking of a ghost. Jet-black hair, and blue eyes that burned with a savage, ghostly light. The beautiful face revealed under the moonlight was of a kind that transcended the mortal realm.

But the voice whispering in his ear and the sharp sensation biting into his skin were entirely real.

"Call them. The others. Blow a whistle, fire a signal flare, or scream."

With trembling hands, the man pulled out his whistle and blew into it with all his might.

Ah...

A wet, blood-choked screech was the last sound the man made before his breath was cut short forever.

The Punglim Sect's compound began to stir with commotion. Yoo Jeong, the architect of this chaos, calmly flicked her sword, shaking the droplets of blood from Cheonru.

Soon, a crowd of Punglim Sect thugs rushed out, hastily armed. Their faces were filled with bewilderment. A woman invading in the dead of night, brandishing a sword? It was utterly absurd, but given the mountain of sins they had accumulated, they quickly exchanged tense glances.

But before they could make sense of the situation, Yoo Jeong spoke first.

"I will count to ten."

She drew a graceful arc in the air, pointing her sword toward the crowd. The energy slowly rising from the blade was unmistakably sword qi. Sensing a level of martial prowess far beyond their expectations, the thugs' faces stiffened.

"If any of you are eunuchs or have practiced the Virgin Boy Art, step aside."

Watching them, Yoo Jeong swept her sword once more, drawing a line on the ground behind her. Her warning continued.

"Except for those who cross this line, I will slaughter everyone. Ten."

At her quiet words, the thugs glanced at one another before a few stepped forward. Four men. Yoo Jeong scanned them with cold eyes. Though they flinched under her gaze, they ultimately crossed over and stood behind the line she had drawn.

"One," Yoo Jeong announced, reaching the end of her count.

"Die!"

"Ha!"

Before the rest of the crowd could even lung, the four men who had crossed the line launched a coordinated attack from behind. It was clearly their plan from the start. Their strikes came from different directions, aiming for her blind spots.

But Yoo Jeong had anticipated this. She spun gracefully on her heel, like a dancer executing a perfect pirouette.

Slash.

A thin crimson line was drawn against the night sky. Unable to react to the blinding speed of her strike, the four men collapsed like puppets with their strings cut, dying before they even realized they had been hit.

"Next."

Her stance, pointing her sword at the crowd, was exactly the same as before. But the crowd's reaction was entirely different. Naturally so. Not a single one of them had been able to follow the trajectory of her blade. Even an idiot could tell that the person standing before them was no ordinary master.

Step by step, they began to retreat. Some out of instinctive terror, some to save their own skins, and others to warn the sect leader. They slowly backed away from Yoo Jeong.

Finally, the moment someone turned their back and bolted—step, flash—another head rolled.

Yoo Jeong had leaped in an instant, closing the distance to the first runner. Her blade had swung without a shred of hesitation.

Having executed the coward, she turned back to face the crowd. The massive moon illuminated her figure, her black hair, now stained with blood, fluttering in the wind. Looking at her, every single martial artist of the Punglim Sect felt the exact same emotion. *Exquisitely beautiful, and utterly terrifying.*

Whether she cared for their feelings or not, her small lips parted, delivering a judgment like King Yama himself.

"Tonight, everyone in the Punglim Sect who holds a blade dies."

Because I have decided so.