Drawing Lines from Heaven to Earth
Yongbongjihoe drew a straight line from heaven down to earth. Taesanapjeong. Heavy, like Mount Tai pressing down. She traced a horizontal line in the shape of the earth and swung. Hoengsocheongun. As if cutting down a thousand soldiers. She thrust straight forward in the shape of a point. Irigwanji. Piercing through everything with a single stroke.
No matter how grandly one dressed it up, it was still just a downward cut, a horizontal slash, and a thrust. Even so, Cheong's techniques were fierce, the wind-splitting sound ringing out with a sharp, murderous ssae-aek, ssae-aek. It wasn't some profound enlightenment. She was simply swinging with all her might, teeth clenched. When the body was pushed to its limit, stray thoughts had no room to form. So she needed to make her body work harder. Yet her strength and stamina, which transcended human limits, refused to tire easily. Therefore, harder. Faster. Stronger. The sound of her sword tearing through the air grew louder. The wind pressure from her blade swept the training ground floor, kicking up dry dust. Even then, she still had energy left for stray thoughts.
What exactly was inner energy, anyway? If qi truly existed, why had the martial world vanished from that other place, leaving no martial arts behind? With superhumans like this around, how could martial artists have all died to bullets? No. Stop the stray thoughts. Right. Count numbers. Focusing on counting was the best way to empty one's mind. So with each swing of the sword, a number. One two three four five six seven eight nine, one. Nine bundled into one, then two, three, and so on until ten bundles made nine, then another one. She didn't actually want to know how many times she'd swung. She just wanted to clear her head. So this was better. What was the current two-digit count? Two hundred? Three hundred? Had she already counted three hundred earlier? Counting numbers naturally made even simple techniques carry more force. Repeating that force, even a body that transcended human limits gradually grew short of breath. Then inner energy rose on its own. Cheong forcibly suppressed the qi that had tried to circulate on its own. Read the room, would you? I'm trying to look tired here.
Time passed. "Huff, haah, I'm getting a bit winded." She had come out to the Mucheon Pavilion training ground before sunset to swing her sword, yet the surroundings had grown pitch black, with only wide bonfires burning. Only now did her heart pound and her limbs ache as if they might snap. It finally felt like she'd gotten some exercise. Anyone who heard her would have been shocked. This was the complaint of someone who had swung a sword for two and a half hours without a single break, without even using inner energy.
Cheong was wiping away the sweat that had soaked her when a voice spoke. "Is that the Three Talents Sword? If the southern style uses thrusting as its method, then it must be the southern Three Talents Sword."
Cheong brightened and greeted Gongson Yoye. "Yes! You're awake! I thought you'd never get up. Do you know how much time has passed? Are you okay?"
"I, I was unconscious for that long? How much time has passed? Three days? Four days?" Gongson Yoye asked in surprise.
"Just kidding. Only half a day. Does your head hurt?"
"How would I know...? Was I making a pained expression?"
"No, but after drinking that much, your head must hurt."
"Ah... It feels like something is stabbing me with an awl. Of course it does. Is this normal?"
"It varies from person to person, but if you drink strong liquor for the first time like that, your head will hurt. That's called a hangover."
"Ah. So this is what a hangover is..."
Gongson Yoye had been deliberately hiding her pain in front of Cheong. Now that she knew it was normal, she finally showed it, her right eye twitching. It seemed the migraine had settled on that side.
"If it hurts, say it hurts. Don't pretend you're fine."
"But you would worry, Cheong."
"Worrying is better. What if something really is wrong and you collapse later? How upset and angry would I be if I was right there and didn't know?"
It was the sort of thing someone who always pretended to be fine in front of others would say. But people could rarely view themselves objectively, so blaming Cheong felt unfair.
Gongson Yoye listened well. "Ugh, it hurts, it really hurts a lot... Is there anything that helps?"
"Drink lots of water. Ah, not tea. Unless it's fruit tea. And eat lots of sweet things. Sweet water solves both at once, so should I ask for some fruit tea?"
"My stomach feels awful too..."
"Then we need to sober you up. I'll ask for a clear broth and plenty of fruit tea."
"Do I really have to eat right now?"
"You'll feel better after eating. Come on, let's go." Cheong grabbed Gongson Yoye's hand and dragged her along. Gongson Yoye let herself be pulled, glancing down at their joined hands.
After Cheong asked the Mucheon Pavilion maids, a table was quickly set. Chinese cuisine's specialty was quickly frying or boiling prepped ingredients. Stir-frying in Chinese cooking was not much different from deep-frying, done by filling a wok with oil and tossing everything as if frying. Gongson Yoye drank the clear soup made by boiling plenty of dried fish and let out an involuntary sound of melting pleasure.
"Hwaaah, wow, this is really good. My stomach feels so much better, haaah, wonderful."
"See? After drinking and passing out, nothing beats clear broth. Hmm. Or a spicy soup is good too. As long as it's not greasy. Now that I think about it, I'm craving it."
Before transmigrating, Cheong's habit after heavy drinking had been to buy a famous chain's cheeseburger, toss it on her desk, and sleep. Upon waking with a hangover, she would devour it as a cure. Now that she thought about it, it didn't seem too difficult to make, so she should ask for one later.
Cheong was ladling soup into her own bowl when she paused. "Ah, I should take this off. It's stuffy." She shrugged off her veil. On impulse, she also let down her hair, the sweat-soaked strands hanging limply like seaweed. Gongson Yoye froze in place, still holding her bowl awkwardly.
Cheong saw her expression and smirked. "Hm? Why? Because I'm pretty?"
Gongson Yoye nodded, bowl still in hand. She stared at Cheong's face for a long time. Having just finished sweating heavily, Cheong's hair clung to her skin in a way that was dangerously alluring. Gongson Yoye, dazed, asked quietly, "D-does sobering up always make your face feel flushed? Like you've just soaked your whole body in hot soup, and... your heart starts racing too."
Cheong's expression grew serious. Wait, is she... hypertensive? Or does she have angina? "Let's have Nanhwa take a look at that."
"But why do you hide your face? You're so beautiful. It's such a waste."
"Because men would swarm me and it'd be annoying. Though from what I saw today, they still swarmed even with the veil. Ah, I'm not badmouthing your brother."
After winning the drinking contest, quite a few men had approached her with creepy, appraising looks, some openly leering. They seemed to think that because they couldn't see her eyes through the veil, she couldn't see their lecherous gazes either. In that case, they should wear veils themselves.
"Ah. I understand. Still, it's a shame."
Gongson Yoye accepted it immediately. Cheong's beauty had that level of destructive power.
"It's not like I'll hide it forever. And taking it off now feels a bit... I don't know, childish, like I'm not even a master chef but still trying some petty trick."
She hadn't intended it, but revealing her face now would just look like she was bragging, "Actually, I was a beauty all along." It only made removing the veil harder.
"I was thinking we could eat and then spar, but shaking your head would probably make the headache worse, right?"
"No, I'm fine. This is something I do all the time anyway..."
"Fine, my foot. Who goes around exercising with a hangover? Maybe if you were still drunk. Hmm, they had lanterns floating on the canal up ahead. Want to go watch that together?"
Gongson Yoye's face bloomed with joy. "Ah! Yes. Thank you. Thank you so much. How can I ever thank you enough for such kind words..."
She wondered if it had been a good idea to accidentally reveal her embarrassing inner thoughts. Cheong was kind, gentle, considerate, warm-hearted, generous, and now even beautiful beyond measure. Yet somehow, the distance between them had shrunk considerably. It felt like Cheong was drawing much closer.
---
After being subdued and dragged away, Moyong Juhee had drunk herself unconscious. Some heavy drinkers had the convenient brain structure that allowed them to cleanly forget their drunken antics. But a martial artist's mind was not so fragile. Even if they lost reason and caused a scene, they had to wake with every memory intact. Thus Moyong Juhee's heart broke once more. The heart stitched together with vengeful malice shattered again, this time even more thoroughly, ground into fine powder.
"Uwaaaah! Aaaah! Aaaah! Aak! Aaaak! Kuaaaah!"
Only the pillow suffered, swallowing her sorrowful screams. Last time it had been sadness. This time the screams were closer to despair. And Moyong clan's voices had a particular effect on Moyong Jun.
"Sister! Sister, why again! Sister!"
"Aak, what do I do! How can I ever show my face again!"
The moment she had thrown her fake breasts in front of so many people, Moyong Juhee's secret had been exposed to the world. And since she herself had vouched for their authenticity, she had screamed at the top of her lungs that they didn't exist. A single teardrop rolled from Moyong Juhee's unusually large eyes.
"W-what do I do? Is marriage completely off the table now? Jun-ah, what if I have to live alone forever? What man would ever like a woman without breasts?"
"It's okay! Then I'll just stay with you forever! We're family!"
"J-Jun-ah!" Moyong Juhee pulled her younger brother into a fierce hug. Moyong Jun thought his sister's ribs pressing against his temples hurt a little, but he could judge for himself that he should endure for his sad sister. It was all thanks to the teachings of that beggar sister—no, Cheong sister. Before saying something out loud, think one more time whether it might hurt the listener. Telling a sister who was sad about her small breasts that her bones hurt would definitely be a very, very bad thing to say.
Moyong Juhee felt a little better thanks to her cute little brother's warm comfort. Besides, despair was familiar to her. Every pair of breasts she saw was a fresh source of despair.
"Right, family. I have family. And friends too." She hadn't made a complete verbal slip, thanks to her gracious friends who had stopped her mouth just in time. It was a little annoying how they acted superior, claiming they understood because they had something, but at least they shared a similar pain, even if the depth differed. Of course, if Moyong Juhee's pain was one hundred points, her friends' pain was maybe eighty or ninety, so none of them could truly understand her suffering.
Fire lit in Moyong Juhee's eyes. "I won't forgive her. I'll never forgive her."
"Sister?"
"That bitch. I'll never forgive her. How could she dig into someone else's most painful wound? How could anyone do something so horrible? Right, Jun-ah?"
This was coming from Moyong Juhee, who had put on a grand self-harm performance.
"Right! It's horrible!"
"Not enough. Call her a horrible bitch. Quickly."
"Horrible bi—bitch!"
"A bad bitch, an evil bitch, a bitch like the worst villain under heaven, a hypocrite who puts on airs...!"
"Do I have to repeat all of that?"
"Just up to 'bad bitch'?"
"Bad bitch!"
"Good. A bad bitch. And an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. She touched my weakness, so I'll expose her weakness to the whole world too."
The bitch who hid her face because she didn't want to show it to others would suffer the same revenge if her veil was lifted in front of everyone at the Yongbongjihoe. Moyong Juhee hadn't wanted to go this far. She had planned to let it slide after the bitch got properly drunk and crawled on the floor in front of everyone. But Moyong Jun shouted, "I'll help too! What should I do?"
"No. You don't need to get your hands dirty with something this filthy. Just... stay by my side, okay? Even if the whole world points fingers at me, you'll take my side, right?"
Lifting the veil of the face-hiding bitch was practically mutual destruction. It was an outrageous act that would make everyone point fingers and call her a vicious bitch who dug into someone else's painful wound. But thinking that way only made forgiveness impossible. That bitch had done the exact same thing yet still pretended to be a noble heroine, while Moyong Juhee became the idiot whose fake breasts were exposed. Moyong Juhee's insides burned hot. At least the screams didn't escape her mouth this time, thanks to her comforting little brother.
"Yeah! I'll always be on your side!"
"Good. My Jun-ah. Now I really have only you."