The Dangers of Beauty and a Broken Needle
On the road to Kaifeng, if they were going to impose for a night anyway, it was better to stay with familiar faces. Besides, during their last visit, the Great Justice Gate Master’s choice of snacks had been anything but ordinary. So just as Cheong was about to be selected—
“Since this is my first time traveling the Jianghu, I’d like to experience as many things as possible. Staying at an inn is one of them.”
Dang Nan-a delivered a roundabout refusal. At least, that was how it sounded to Cheong. For reference, the “I” she used here was a more formal, elevated term than “this girl,” chosen with deliberately stiff vocabulary. Though it was a polite refusal, it also carried the firm attitude that she would entertain no objections.
“Ah, I see. Then there’s nothing to be done. In that case, may I at least treat you to a meal…?”
“My travel funds are sufficient. There’s no need to trouble you.”
“Is that so…”
Wang Son-seok and the other martial officials who had come to greet them slumped their shoulders. They thought it was only natural for one of the Five Flowers of Murim to be so aloof.
Cheong personally didn’t see what the big deal was, but since this wasn’t a solo trip, she had to accommodate her companions. After staring at Dang Nan-a until the very end—and the men who were staring so hard they seemed to believe the carriage would turn transparent if they kept it up—the group finally left and secured an inn.
“But why? Wouldn’t it be nice to stay the night?”
“You silly child. Nothing in this world is free. They’re all probably heading to the Grand Murim Tournament anyway. If we subtly suggest tagging along, it’ll just annoy them, won’t it?”
“You think so?”
“Miss Dang, how could that possibly be the case? With three esteemed ladies traveling together, what man would dare ask to accompany you?”
Asking to join a group of women traveling together was, in fact, an unofficial breach of etiquette. Did a detailed explanation seem necessary? It was the kind of sleazy move that would get you called a perverted bastard no matter the era.
“Huh?”
Cheong looked at Jegal Ihyeon with an expression that clearly asked, Who said anything about going together?
“Ah, of course. You’ve always been indifferent to the affairs of the Central Plains, Sister. But I am of the Jegal clan, am I not?”
His careful choice of words—avoiding anything as crude as “ignorant”—perfectly reflected Jegal Ihyeon’s character. At the same time, his answer carried multiple meanings. In a positive sense, it meant that since the Jegal clan’s standards of beauty were well known, they wouldn’t interpret a request to travel together as a sleazy advance. In another sense, it implied that someone from the Jegal clan had no need to resort to such indirect methods of flirting. Moreover, with a respected elder of the Daoist faction present, along with that elder’s sworn sister and the Tang clan’s precious daughter Dang Nan-a, it would look perfectly natural for the Jegal clan to join them. This was simply how the highest echelons of the Central Plains interacted.
“Then wouldn’t it be hard to even bring up staying the night and traveling together? Is there really a need to be so guarded?”
“Oh dear, Sister. You must understand the danger your beauty poses. Even if someone asks to accompany us, we would have no proper grounds to refuse. So if they were willing to endure the shame, do you really think they wouldn’t dare speak the words?”
Dang Nan-a added a remark of her own.
“That’s right. Cheong, you really need to realize just how pretty you are.”
“Hmm. I don’t think it’s that bad.”
Anyway, it was early evening. People of the Central Plains ate lightly for breakfast and lunch but enjoyed a very hearty dinner. Though the farmers who made up the vast majority of the population would probably disagree, farmers were considered something between humans and livestock and thus not counted as proper Central Plains people. Of course Cheong ate three full meals a day, but she always approached dinner with the most enthusiasm. This was because many dishes could only be ordered in the evening, as they were prepared in large batches for sale. There was also the advantage that the paralysis from her acupuncture would wear off around lunchtime, meaning she could feed herself at dinner. Having two people spoon-feed her until she swallowed everything felt rather stifling.
After eating dinner, they took a stroll around Nanyang Lake to aid digestion, played around a bit, then received their acupuncture and went to sleep. She hadn’t written it in a diary, but she would say it had been reasonably fun. Then came a bath, more acupuncture while lying down, and falling asleep in the best room while leaning against her sworn sister. That was a typical day for her lately.
Previously, when Gyeon Po-hui had suggested sharing a room, Cheong had kept refusing because she didn’t understand Central Plains culture. Feeling a bit sorry about that, she had started sharing the same bed every day. When she asked Jegal Ihyeon back at the Jegal clan whether she might have misunderstood something, his answer had been firm.
In the past—roughly a week ago—the greatest intellect among musclemen, Jegal Ihyeon, had said:
“If they are sworn sisters, is it not a touching tale of sisterly affection for them to share one bed, cover themselves with one blanket, and sleep in each other’s arms?”
“A touching tale, you say?”
“Indeed. In the past, the three heroes Liu Xuande, Guan Yunchang, and Zhang Yide also shared one bed and embraced each other to share their warmth. Were they not praised as the most affectionate brothers in the world?”
What meaning would there be in sharing a bed but sleeping far apart? Only when times were truly difficult, on a cheap little bed with a blanket that provided no warmth, enduring the cold by relying on each other’s body heat—that was what made a truly affectionate relationship.
“Wait, those three?”
“Thus, when Liu Xuande brought Zhao Zilong into his bed, Zhao Zilong was so moved he shed tears and served him with utmost loyalty for the rest of his life. Even my ancestor Zhuge Liang recorded in his diary the deep emotion he felt when General Liu first invited him to share a bed.”
This was the historical case of Liu Bei using shared sleeping for political purposes.
“Uh… yeah. I see.”
It was quite the eye-opener. Was this the true face of the Romance of the Three Kingdoms? Maybe it was because this was a different world? Surely things weren’t like this in her original home, right?
“On the other hand, the man called Cao Cao never shared a bed even with his own cousin. In contrast, Liu Xuande deliberately invited his subordinates to his bed to spread his reputation for benevolence and righteousness throughout the world.”
“Your word choice is a bit strange.”
Of course, it was purely, without the slightest impropriety, simply the literal act of sleeping close together on one bed. Still, from a modern person’s perspective… ew. Just, ew.
“There is even a saying that if Cao Cao had once shared a bed with Sima Yi, the ruler of the world would never have changed.”
“Cao Cao lost because he didn’t sleep with Sima Yi?”
Huh? Had Cao Cao lost? Wasn’t he the one who got his head smashed in by Hua Tuo and died? This was the level of knowledge you got from skimming the Three Kingdoms through comics. Cheong only knew the names of the famous figures; she understood history at the level of someone who had rewritten it entirely.
“If it is an adult who shared a bed with one’s father, it is almost equivalent to an adoptive father. How could one dare tease or mock such a person?”
Cao Cao could be considered a little pitiful. The Cao family had always been wealthy, so they never experienced times so difficult and poor that they had to overcome them by sharing a single bed. This was in contrast to how, even after Liu Bei established himself in Shu, the three brothers would gather and sleep together. However, Liu Bei was a married man, and after settling down it became difficult for the three brothers to gather. Moreover, all three were heavy drinkers who lived by alcohol and would pass out drunk right where they were before heading straight to bed.
Cheong herself had many memories from her university days of her entire department swarming out to drink, then being packed tightly like sardines in an inn room for group sleepovers. However, the story specifically mentioned the sisterly affection of sharing one blanket and embracing each other as a touching tale. That meant no one actually did it. After all, something everyone did would not be called a touching tale.
Despite this, Jegal Ihyeon had emphasized it with particular care. It wasn’t to tease Cheong. There had simply been a small misunderstanding. Rather, Jegal Ihyeon had been impressed by what he interpreted as Cheong’s kind heart in wanting to elevate her sworn sister’s status. She’s not my servant but my sworn sister, so don’t you dare treat her carelessly. Thus, he had expressed it indirectly that he would now treat her with proper respect as an older sister and that she should stop. Unfortunately, the expression was far too sophisticated for Cheong to understand, so she simply took it at face value as a difference in culture. There was also the shock of learning Liu Xuande’s true nature. In truth, the only people he was genuinely close to in the world were his two sworn brothers. He was a dark-hearted, big-eared man who had imitated the conduct of a saint through masterful political acting.
Of course, compared to the Cao fellow who had been born with a genetic disease that left him without a conscience—a social development disorder—the Liu fellow who at least tried to act like a good person despite his blackened heart was far better. Even the Cao clan’s lack of guilt and empathy was hereditary. In that sense, Sima Yi, who had ended their bloodline, could truly be called the greatest hero of the world. Not to mention his achievement of shattering the Chinese people into the Sixteen Kingdoms of the Five Barbarians! He was truly a saint who would live happily forever beside the highest throne in heaven, receiving blessings eternally.
And back to the present.
After resting comfortably for one night in Xinyang, Cheong’s group set off again toward Kaifeng in the north. Passing through small towns and villages, the inevitable incident finally occurred.
“Ah.”
It was Dang Nan-a, who had gained some skill and was now adjusting the angle this way and that while pretending to be nonchalant. However, this was one of the taboos of acupuncture.
“Are you going to keep breaking needles and making ominous exclamations?”
“My long needle…”
This was exactly the kind of behavior that led to broken needles. Needles had to be inserted perpendicular to the acupoint, without force, gently tapped in. Yet she had been grabbing the needle in her fist like a thug and shaking it around while stabbing it in. How could a thin, long needle possibly endure that?
Dang Nan-a’s face crumpled in distress. Not only had her beloved tool of many years broken, but the needles she used were no ordinary ones. They were masterpieces among masterpieces, luxury among luxury, crafted by a renowned needle artisan who had proudly declared them the work of a lifetime. The fact that they had endured Dang Nan-a’s brutish acupuncture—which she drove in with all the strength in her body—until now was proof that they were treasures of the world.
While Dang Nan-a stared blankly at the broken long needle, Cheong felt a slight pang of conscience. Even though she knew this wasn’t the time to ask, there was a question she simply had to voice.
“Um… where’s the rest of it?”
“Eh? Uh… uh?”
It was a talent to make someone nervous with just one syllable.
“You can pull it out, right?”
“If I move my arm like this… and like this… it should come out naturally…”
“Your arm isn’t moving though?”
“Well. Since Father will also be coming to Kaifeng, I can ask Father to…”
“What?”
“So, why don’t we think positively? I won’t put any strength into my arm at all, and in a week the injury will be completely healed anyway…”
“……”
And so, after this very minor incident that left Dang Nan-a—the authority on Eastern medicine—with her arm completely paralyzed according to her own medical opinion, the group arrived at a large city. Its name was Jumadian.
You have arrived at Jumadian.
“Jumadian was also known as Runan in the past. The current Runan has been separated into Runan County to the east. This occurred during the time of Emperor Taizong of Tang…”
An unsolicited commentary automatically poured out. Of course, no one in the group was properly listening, so the words simply scattered emptily into the air. Still, Cheong found it fascinating how his mouth never seemed to stop. Was there some book that only collected such information? How could he recite it all so fluently?
Of course, he had an uncanny knack for picking out the interesting stories. For example, the name Jumadian had been given because of Yang Guifei, one of the Four Great Beauties of the Central Plains and a notorious evil woman of the world. Yang Guifei loved lychees more than any other fruit, and they happened to come from Southeast Asia. The city where they would rest while transporting them quickly became known as Jumadian—literally “halt the horse station.”
In truth, it wasn’t something to laugh about. One of the reasons for the fall of the Tang dynasty was said to be the enormous cost of the lychee transport operation to bring fresh fruit for Yang Guifei. For reference, lychees were called “laizhi” in Chinese, and in Cheong’s original world’s history, Westerners had taken the fruit and, due to pronunciation limitations, named it “litchi.” It was the same litchi that was always piled mountain-high as the dessert in all-you-can-eat buffets. However, since its origin was Southeast Asia, it originally had a different name. But no one in the past or future had ever wondered about the native name of a Southeast Asian fruit, so that name remained unknown.
After hearing this interesting explanation, Cheong thought:
Ah. Lychees. Lychees are delicious. I want to eat lychees.
But since she wasn’t Yang Guifei, no one was going to fetch them just because she wanted some. Instead, there was one annoying woman bothering her about something else.
“Cheong, let’s go look at needles.”
“We haven’t even unpacked yet…”
“We have to go before the sun sets. Needle craftsmen close their iron workshops and go home when it gets dark…”
They hadn’t even secured an inn or unpacked their luggage, yet Dang Nan-a was already pestering her to go see new long needles. If they were lucky, the blacksmith’s iron tongs might even be able to pull out the needle stuck in her shoulder.