Chapter 25
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Translator: True Detective
Chapter: 24
Chapter Title: Obedience - 2
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"Ah..."
Faint sunlight filtered through. When he opened his eyes, he found himself inside some shabby hut. No one was around.
A slight dizziness and headache hit him as he sat up. It was only after stepping outside that Zhang Ping realized where he was. Endless rows of huts and earthen walls—the refugee quarter near the north gate.
"Awake?"
"Just now."
The gaunt man, Bai Hui, spoke bluntly. Zhang Ping answered as he kept moving his body. He twisted his waist, bent and straightened his knees.
"What are you doing?"
"O-Gum-Hee. It's a health exercise Hua Tuo created. They say if you do it for close to a few decades, you can sense qi."
"Then go ahead and do it."
"No need anymore. So this is qi sense. Not the dantian, but the heart as the sea of qi? Why didn't I think of that? Reverse blood flow was the answer. Insane... brilliant."
"That impressive, huh?"
"You bet it is."
Bai Hui stared at Zhang Ping with a sullen expression.
The taciturn man found Zhang Ping's nonstop muttering to himself right after waking up quite novel. He didn't seem tired at all, just kept talking.
"Do you know what it means for ordinary folk who've lived out their years to learn martial arts? Ever since I smashed my way out of the Hallym Academy, that's all I've studied martial arts for."
"My mind had the talent, but my body couldn't keep up. No matter how hard I pushed, I couldn't even sense qi. My meridians were clogged beyond repair. External arts were even more hopeless."
Zhang Ping was still limping even now. It wasn't a qi and blood issue—it was his bones and muscles. A curse even Hua Tuo reincarnated as the Girl couldn't fix.
He'd been rejected by every martial hall. He'd hunted down dubious cultivation methods and studied them. Even expensive spirit medicines bought with big money hadn't worked, but the Girl had pulled it off.
He knew how absurd it was to circulate inner energy through reverse blood flow. It was like walking a narrow, dark shortcut. One misstep, and you'd plummet into qi deviation. Partial paralysis would be getting off lucky. More likely, your Baihui point would burst, leaving you a drooling madman.
At least now Zhang Ping was following a path someone else had blazed. The one who'd found it first... what dangers had the Girl overcome?
She was a genius, no doubt. Or insanely lucky.
"...You're awfully amazed. I don't get it myself."
Such astonishment was utterly incomprehensible to Bai Hui. To him, inner energy flow was just part of martial arts—nothing transcendent. No special talent needed to handle reverse blood qi arts. Talent in martial arts was like discussing water to the sea.
But the same phenomenon felt entirely different to Zhang Ping. It was like witnessing another world.
"I've... I've learned martial arts. Haha, I can sense qi. Great! Hui, where's our master?"
"Call me Bai Hui. I've never permitted familiarity from you. And she's not our master."
"Then make her my master! She could take my life with a single meridian strike..."
Seeing another ramble starting, Bai Hui pointed to the left. Zhang Ping nodded. His limping steps felt light.
Grand dreams swirled in the scholar's mind. Plans to set the martial world ablaze—ones he'd refined countless times back at the Guangtong Hallym Academy. Time to propose them to the Girl.
The martial world was just a human organization. Dangle some bait, poke weak spots, and it'd scatter and crumble. With tensions rising between the Five Great Clans and the Nine Sects One Gang, sowing discord would be child's play...
But that was for later.
Zhang Ping remembered yesterday's bloodshed. It was natural the Dragon Star Clan was up in arms—even from afar, it was obvious. For now, it was time to lurk in the shadows. In his haste, he scanned around for the Girl.
"My master."
She was right nearby. As always, perched in a suitable spot, tending to the sick.
Seeing the limping Zhang Ping, the Girl smiled faintly. He unleashed a fluent torrent of words.
"Yesterday was utterly exhilarating. You've claimed this wretch's life, so now I offer my all. I've long harbored a scheme in my heart—allow me to propose it. But for now, we must hide. Before the Dragon Star Clan sweeps the alleys, preserve yourself."
"No hiding."
"Pardon?"
The Girl said no more, as if one sentence sufficed. Meanwhile, one patient stood up fully cured.
Zhang Ping felt his mind go blank white. He must have misheard. No way.
"My master, even the classics say retreating when a clan is weak is wise. We're few and our skills modest, so first we should hide and..."
"Not going anywhere."
"They could move as early as tomorrow."
No reply came. She merely needled the arm of a new patient. Instead of despair, Zhang Ping calmly picked his next words. If she insisted on folly, turning her with earnest counsel was his duty.
He couldn't let a superhuman discovered through miracles be thrown to the dirt like this.
What was the Girl seeing?
Zhang Ping didn't know yet, but the vow the Flash Guest Eugene had ground out amid chewing worms in her sealed acupoint sleep was clear.
A being you could scream for amid gritted teeth, tears, and a heart-tearing moment.
Not a god. Buddha or the Supreme Emperor? No. Statues don't move. Buddhas stay silent. Immortals ride clouds, heedless of mortal grudges.
"I'll stay here. But you can hide if you want."
Casual tone. Serene, plain. No need to stay with me—hide if you wish, she whispered. It wasn't logic or persuasion. Just a declaration of resolve.
Zhang Ping was clever. That's why he understood her will. Unshakable.
But... no matter how he thought, no answer appeared. The infamous Dragon Star Clan's punishment squad—the worst fiend force in Mount Bul, where even the lowliest grunt was a first-rate warrior—was already vivid in his mind. As he desperately churned his stalled thoughts, someone tapped his shoulder. Bai Hui.
"You do any training?"
"None."
"Good. Easier if you stay put."
"...?"
"If melee breaks out, I plan to cut down anything that moves."
Suddenly, Zhang Ping felt like a fool.
A lavish room adorned with dragon motifs everywhere. Two shirtless, fierce-looking men stood with hands behind backs. Before them, a chair of pure gold.
And on it, a man lounging with legs crossed.
Dragon Star Clan Leader Flying Heaven Golden Blade Yong Heisha was in a foul mood. Extremely.
"Fuck, you mocking me with that mouth? You call yourselves division leaders?"
"Forgive us. Gahk!"
"Shut it? Wanna play nice like in our beggar days?"
"Hngh!"
Black Mist Division Leader Jiao Li held his breath. Thwack—Yong Heisha kicked his chest like a drum. The beat echoed as Jiao Li tumbled ignobly.
His ironclad external art, treating blades like clubs, was useless—a bruise bloomed blue. Jiao Li writhed in agony, lips clamped tight lest a scream escape. Next was Subordinate Division Leader Jin Gon, right beside him.
Yong Heisha, already there, slapped his cheek. Smack!
"You bastard, I put you in charge of the young ones, and you send them to their deaths?"
"Forgive us."
"Know whose fault it is that promising young Hong Gon and his ten are dead?"
"Forgive us."
"Sorry fix everything? You sons of bitches! Enough. Time for tempering."
The courtesan fanning nearby drew a golden throwing knife. Flying Heaven Golden Blade itself—Yong Heisha's signature weapon. Terror flickered in Jiao Li and Jin Gon's eyes.
"Keep your mouths shut. Bite your tongue."
They knew what was coming. Yong Heisha didn't drag out punishments for subordinates. One strike, manfully—his creed. Just once. Paying for ten lives in one go.
It was never light.
"Mmgh!"
No escaping. Those without face had no place in the Dragon Star Clan. Eyes bulging, they watched him approach slowly. One, two, then.
Splat! The knife pinned Jiao Li's fingernail. His eyes rolled back in extreme pain.
"Ten acupoints per nail. Cheap for a life."
The dagger bored into nerve clusters. The knife master's ghostly precision ravaged pain points and meridians. Jiao Li convulsed. Gums shattered, blood flowed.
Not screaming took superhuman will. After a quarter-hour, he was released. Yong Heisha coldly eyed the fainted man, wiping blood from the blade.
"As expected of brother Jiao. Toughness recognized. Right?"
Jin Gon looked ready to lose his mind in terror.
Another quarter-hour passed. Teeth ground, crunching. Finally, a scream... more blows, then Yong Heisha satisfiedly wiped the bloodied blade on golden silk, now red-stained.
"Time for a memorial rite! Sweep every back alley and drag 'em out! Fuck, any slacker dreaming of coin ends up like Jin Gon!"
"Yes, sir!"
Division leaders outside bowed like lightning. Leading them: Myriad Ghosts Scholar Ha Ryong.
The next day, the black market shuttered and hung white mourning banners. Osek Mountain sales halted. Men with punishment tattoos on their backs prowled every corner. Exemplars of justice—the punishment squad. Fiend style was brutal. Defy, and no corpse recovery.
Slum dwellers scattered in an instant. Silence flowed through the alleys like a river.
And on every alley wall, warnings about the killer. Vowing to hunt to the end and slaughter. Vulgar words.