The Divine Thief's Futile Chase
Are you acquainted with this beggar?
Needless to say, martial arts consume an enormous amount of stamina. Physical endurance is the very foundation of every technique. That is why nearly every sect shared the same basic training methods for what could loosely be called preparatory third-generation disciples—snot-nosed little brats, really (though no one actually uses that exact title). Horse stance, pointless mountain sprints, and hauling water for the entire sect. The regimen stayed exactly the same throughout their entire growth period.
It might look like bullying or child abuse to an outsider. But this was a vital process that built the true foundation of martial arts by tempering both stamina and lower-body strength at the same time. Of course, it also had the convenient side benefit of making life much easier once the little kids started fetching the water themselves.
Regardless, the stamina drain of martial arts was no joke. One had to endure that kind of brutal childhood just to practice it. Hand an ordinary person a sword and tell them to swing it a hundred times. They would be panting and collapsed long before they finished.
And among all martial arts, there was one that devoured stamina so viciously it stood in a league of its own. Lightness skill—qinggong.
In the distant past, a man from the Western Regions supposedly ran a hundred li to deliver a victory report, only to drop dead on the spot. Whether his heart had burst or his blood flow simply gave out, no one knew. Force an ordinary citizen to sprint at full speed and you would watch every drop of moisture in their body pour out before two hours had even passed.
At least the common folk of the Central Plains could last that long. People from Cheong’s modern hometown would collapse in under a minute if made to run all-out.
So qinggong was an even more difficult art. It required circulating internal energy on top of the running itself to generate additional propulsion. This wasn’t simply using qi to assist your legs. It was a simultaneous dual burden—running while operating your inner power at the same time.
Nor were the practice grounds wide, flat, perfectly packed training fields without a single pebble. Real terrain rose and fell sharply. The footing might hide rocks under fallen leaves, conceal sudden puddles, or offer nothing but slippery boulders. Even normal running was difficult there.
Therefore, maintaining qinggong for any real length of time was incredibly hard. It demanded steel-like stamina, perfect bodily control and balance, the concentration to keep circulating internal energy, and the reflexes to adapt instantly to terrain that never repeated itself.
Seomun Su-rin had not been exaggerating when she said there were almost no people who could catch her disciple if the girl decided to run. After circling all of Wushan, Cheong remained perfectly fresh, without a drop of sweat or even a single deep breath. That was possible only because of her transcendent stamina, balance, and flawless command of qi.
The single exception Seomun Su-rin had allowed for was a short-distance burst—someone closing the gap instantly and grabbing her. Over long distances, as far as the matriarch knew, no one could catch up. Not even the man famous as the fastest qinggong user in the world. Not even the Divine Thief.
And Seomun Su-rin had been exactly right.
The Divine Thief finally staggered to a halt, panting like a dog.
“Huff… wh-what… huff… hoo… kind of girl… heeeh… hooooo… doesn’t get… tired… doesn’t get tired at all… Huff.”
No one had ordered him to talk to himself, yet even while gasping for air the Divine Thief kept muttering away. If anyone ever called him out on it, he would claim it was because he was a lonely old man. In reality, even lonely old men don’t usually monologue this much. He had simply been born this way.
The Divine Thief’s plan had been simple.
One: observe from a distance.
Two: appear at the perfect dangerous moment and save her.
Three: sternly, solemnly, seriously urge the disciple to accept him.
Four: receive the disciple’s kowtow during the nine prostrations.
Success!
But it had fallen apart at step one. Observe from a distance? As if. What kind of girl ran for over two hours straight without stopping even once? His own stamina had begun to fail, and the distance between them only kept growing.
Even though Thousand-Li Flight was known as a lightness skill specialized for long distances, there were still limits. In the eyes of the Divine Thief—the highest authority on qinggong alive—she simply seemed born with an innate talent for running.
If he kept chasing, his old heart really would give out. So he stopped.
“Hoo… this… hoo. Around… huff… this area… hoo… if we pass here… it should be… the road to the Murim… Murim Tournament… hooooo… right?”
The Divine Thief changed his mind. Did he really have time to play midnight tag with some green young girl? A person should use their head. In the end he had only wasted energy during the night when he would see her at Kaifeng anyway.
---
Completely unaware that the uninvited guest trailing her had given up, Cheong kept running.
She truly knew nothing. When it came to eating and when it came to running away, Cheong was dead serious. Rumors in the Central Plains spread surprisingly slowly, traveling only by word of mouth. If she outran the rumors, hid herself well, and settled down somewhere, who would know enough to come looking—assassins or bounty hunters?
Sleep during the day. Get even farther away for now.
She ran and ran and kept running until the faint light of dawn crept across the sky. A full four hours. Eight hours by modern reckoning.
From around the three-hour mark even Cheong had begun to struggle, so after four hours she finally reached her limit. She collapsed straight onto the ground, spread-eagled.
Her body desperately gulped down air, snatching inhales only to hurl them back out as exhales. The collision in the middle of her windpipe felt like an explosion. So this is what it really means to be “out of breath until your chin,” she realized with her entire body.
In the end, Cheong lay flat on her back in a perfect star shape.
Anyone who has ever run to their absolute limit knows (surprisingly, many people never learn this) that the aftermath is a wringing pain in every single muscle. There is no part of the body that does not hurt.
The ground was cold while her body burned, so the chill actually felt pleasant. After lying there a little while, though… um. It was cold!
Early spring dawn carried the same bite as midwinter, and her clothes were soaked through with sweat. If she took them off and wrung them out, water would probably cascade like a waterfall. Wet clothes and freezing cold—the perfect conditions for a person to freeze to death. When the body is exhausted from sweating and the clothes are damp, cold weather becomes lethal.
At least back at the Goddess Sect, even the thin clothes let the wind through. They never stayed clammy like this.
If I sleep here I’ll freeze, she thought. Cheong struggled upright, and the entire back of her damp robe came away black with dirt.
Of course she had no way of seeing her own back. Looking like that, she trudged forward on heavy legs until a high city gate suddenly blocked her path.
A large sign hung above it with the words “Jangwon” written large, so the city must be called Jangwon. Cheong knew nothing of Central Plains geography, so she had no idea where she was, but anyone else would have been shocked. Six hundred li from Sukapho to Jangwon in a single night—who would believe that?
Jangwon lay between Kaifeng and Bokyang. Bokyang connected northward to Hebei, which meant that in her trance-like sprint Cheong had actually overshot Kaifeng.
Just then, as if on cue, the gates opened for morning.
The sight of the city made her empty stomach roar. She really had run all night without stopping.
She was starving, and her body felt sticky and filthy. It was unbearable.
“Ugh… I’m gonna die…”
Cheong groaned and headed for the gate. A face veil covered her features, two swords slanted across her back at the waist, and a dark, dull-looking flute tucked into her belt. She looked supremely suspicious—what on earth was this girl up to?
But officials followed the principle of non-interference. Government men were terrified of dealing with superhumans who flew around carrying swords, so they dared not stop her and simply let her pass.
Suddenly the veiled swordswoman walked straight up to the gate guard. The poor soldier swallowed hard.
Thus the veiled woman asked,
“Excuse me, where’s a good restaurant around here? What do they serve well?”
The soldier let out a huge sigh of relief.
“The Daeseong Restaurant on the main avenue is excellent. The chef trained in Shandong, so his Shandong dishes are superb. Though whether it’s truly authentic Shandong cuisine… well, some people argue it isn’t……”
“Main avenue. Daeseong Restaurant. Thank you. Keep up the good work.”
Cheong gave the kind soldier a polite nod, veil and all, and passed through the gates.
Since it was morning, merchants carrying shoulder yokes had come out selling tang noodles and dumplings. Cheong’s eyes snapped toward them.
But after starving for so long, her iron will to eat something truly delicious made her squeeze her eyes shut and turn away. Filling up on that would be a waste. When you’re hungry, delicious food tastes twice as good. Tang noodles and dumplings were nothing special. Still… maybe just a tiny taste? If you get too hungry you can’t even eat rice, right? How could the starving Cheong possibly hold back?
Unable to endure any longer, she reached for her pouch. Reached for her pouch… After groping empty air several times, Cheong’s face turned deathly pale. This was the first time her complexion had gone this ashen since leaving the sect.
The pouch… was gone?
Of course it was entirely her own fault. Despite being a world-class strongwoman capable of lifting five hundred geun, she had left all the luggage with her delicate sworn sister. She only knew how to carry swords; she had never learned to attach anything to her own body. Truly dog-like behavior.
If she were to complain, even Cheong felt wronged. The ones who had created that habit were the old and young pair of human pedestals who had begged and pleaded to carry everything for her. She had simply gotten used to letting them.
The problem was that she did not have a single coin, not even one mun, on her person.
“Ah.”
Remembering the three mun she had received from the owner of the martial arts manual, Cheong frantically patted herself down. But Central Plains clothing had no pockets. Of course her martial robes had inner pockets sewn in, but she had taken those coins and immediately handed them to Gyeon Po-hui. All that came out now was a bit of cotton fluff under her fingernails.
One mun bought a plain steamed bun. Three mun could even get you soup without any fillings as a bonus…
For the first time in a long while, Cheong rediscovered her roots. In the beginning, she had fundamentally been a pathetic, penniless pauper.
She started walking. Standing still let the wet clothes cool and made her colder. So she had to keep moving. She scanned the ground restlessly, hoping a single coin might have fallen somewhere.
What now? She was hungry. She had no money…
Suddenly her eyes grew hot with tears. Cheong could endure anything except hunger. Nothing else mattered, but she could not stand being hungry.
Besides, look at her current state. Her clothes were damp and clammy, she had no change of clothes, the weather was freezing, her body was exhausted, the aftereffects of long-distance qinggong left the soles of her feet burning, and her thighs and calves were beginning to twitch with ominous cramps.
Aigoo, this won’t do. Let’s sleep first. If her stomach got any emptier she probably wouldn’t be able to sleep at all from the hunger.
Anyway, it was only cold. She wasn’t going to actually freeze to death. Rather than wandering around clutching her starving belly looking for fallen coins, it was better to sleep while she still could.
Cheong trudged around the city, searching for a suitable place to sleep outdoors. After all, living rough had been familiar to her ever since she first stepped into the gangho.
Eventually she found a good sunny spot in a corner of the marketplace beneath a wall. It was open and well-trafficked, so it felt safe, yet positioned so that while people could see it, they would not actually walk across it. No danger of being stepped on. Moreover, with the sun now on it, the spot would stay sunny until noon.
Finding such a perfect camping spot after so long—it just proved that experience gained through hardship never dies. That is why people say one must learn with the body.
Cheong lay down sideways beneath the wall and curled up like a shrimp.