Tianshan's Cold Embrace
Someone had brought a sword… and so a mountain of poppies came flying into the carriage, tumbling across the fluffy blanket floor. Cheong was actually a little surprised. Had that ridiculous act of feigning illness actually worked? She had read straight from a textbook, after all. What was going on? Did people in the Central Plains tend to believe such performances?
Of course not. However, there were those who would pretend to be fooled by an obvious act of feigning pain. It did not seem likely, but what if—just in case, what if by some one-in-a-million chance—she really was hurt? That was how parental love worked, how a child's filial piety worked, and how dear lovers and closest friends could be. But the caravan leader outside was not that sort of person. Or perhaps he intended to drug her into submission and control her.
Ah! That was it. But that was never going to happen. Cheong had no intention of recklessly inhaling the poppies. Even knowing that she would not become addicted and that it would not harm her body, it was still a drug in the end. There was a psychological resistance to it.
And then the desert appeared.
Cheong, seeing the grandeur of the desert with her own eyes for the first time in her life, felt her magnificent chest swell with emotion. And before even an hour had passed, she realized that the daytime desert was absolute shit. Yet the desert at night was so mysterious and beautiful that her grand chest swelled with emotion once more.
Cheong possessed a strong tolerance for the cold. But the heat was another matter. Especially when trapped inside a sealed carriage, buried under blankets. She could not even tell if they were moving her or just leaving her in a steamer to make Seomun Cheong stew.
While she was panting like a dog in the midday heat, bundles came into her view.
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Tianshan. Just the name alone conjured images of majestic mountain ranges, the edge of the Central Plains and its ceiling. Its highest peak was Victory Peak, roughly three times the height of Mount Baekdu. There were so many peaks the height of two Mount Baekdus that they were countless, and halfway up the range, the eternal snows revealed their white splendor.
That said, it was also a land unfit for human habitation. Barren soil, harsh terrain, and cold nights year-round. With few beasts to speak of, neither farming nor hunting offered any answers. It was the most treacherous land among treacherous lands.
This remote region was the land where the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult had taken root. It was the reason the Cult had launched four invasions into the Central Plains. Living in such a barren and desolate place, hatred for the Central Plains would naturally rise. Conversely, it was also the reason the Cult remained.
Beyond the border, up onto the plateau, across the grasslands, across the desert—three months of travel without rest, to the innermost reaches of this remote mountain range at the very edge of the world. No matter how much one hated and loathed the Cult bastards, it was not worth undertaking such a distant expedition. Growing weary of the grasslands' desolation, enduring the desert's alternating heat and freezing cold day and night, one would finally see the distant barrier of eternal snow. But why did it never seem to get any closer?
The height of the Tianshan range defied even perspective. Watching that sight, even the desire for revenge would flicker and die, thinking, "Ah, this is a bit much." Revenge was futile after all; forgetting everything and warming oneself by the fire in a cozy home while eating delicious food was the best.
The escort journey had taken three months by the calendar, covering roughly nine thousand li. In modern terms, that was three thousand six hundred kilometers, which was why no one pursued them even though the Cult's location was openly known.
Escorting prisoners was never an easy task to begin with. The Cult's criminals were usually those who had fled from the Cult. And the Cult's members included those who had committed crimes in the Central Plains and fled. In other words, the Cult's prisoners were those who had fled, committed more crimes, and fled again. They were twice as formidable as ordinary fugitives.
However, there had never been a prisoner escort of this scale with such heavy losses. Thus, the Cult's warriors who had participated in the escort boasted of their heroic deeds. As boasts always did, they were slightly exaggerated.
This time the prisoner had gone completely mad, enjoying smashing people's heads whenever their eyes met. Hundreds of assassins from the Outer Works Division had died, and in the end they had to summon all the Transcendent masters. How difficult must it have been to bring prisoners along a road that was already hard enough to travel?
And so, when someone tried to offer words of praise, another answered instead.
"……So, that's her?"
A girl held in the arms of Choe-ri-ong, whose face looked ready to cry, was smiling brightly and waving her hand. At first glance it seemed like a frivolous gesture, but it actually exuded dignity. For a frivolous gesture to not seem frivolous, it required the bearing of someone whose habits had been refined through long training in proper etiquette. She must be the young lady of some noble house.
"……She's the one who was smashing heads?"
"Don't be fooled. It's all an act."
"I want to say you've worked hard, but… Hey. There's a limit to lying. Every time you open your mouth, it's bullshit."
The same scene played out in various places. Thus, Cheong managed to screw them over until the very, very end.
Some guessed from Choe-ri-ong's sorrowful expression that the prisoner must have taken too much of the drug. Choe-ri-ong's daughter was famous for her lack of manners. By the time she neared death, she had become even more famous as an irredeemable drug addict. Choe-ri-ong had utterly failed at raising his daughter.
After that, Cheong was handed over to the women. Since they were taking her to see Jijon, they could not leave her in such a filthy state. The women scrubbed, wiped, polished, and dried Cheong. For Cheong, it was a process close to utter humiliation. A full-grown adult had to helplessly offer her body for the doll play of numerous women. Fortunately, she was still under the influence of the drug and could get through it without much resistance. Far from humiliation, she even found it somewhat enjoyable. If the drug's effects had not worn off at the end, it might have remained enjoyable.
Seomun Cheong. One more massive dark history added to the ledger.
That night.
Seomun Cheong met Jijon Hosoin once more.
Upon a throne placed between red and blue silks hanging in long strands from a raised platform like an altar. It looked more like an altar than a grand hall. Because it was an altar. The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult were descendants of a pseudo-religious group. Though they had changed again and become avengers of hell, there were still traditions they maintained.
Jijon Hosoin, arrogantly crossing his legs and looking down at Cheong, had Ji Seungju seated on a more modest chair to his right.
What the hell, that bastard. He was completely the second-in-command. Cheong felt both regret that she should have killed him and relief that if she had lost her temper and killed him, she would not be safe now. The conclusion was clear. She would kill him and run before escaping.
Dozens of masters stood in orderly rows inside the grand hall. Jijon Hosoin, looking down at Cheong standing on two legs among them, spoke.
"You killed quite a few of our followers on the way here, I hear?"
Cheong, not wanting to be beaten again, put on a servile smile.
"Well, you see…"
"No. It's fine. It's not something to blame you for. They were weaklings who died anyway, so it was their own fault."
"Hehe."
She could endure the humiliation of just smiling. Fine, she would take the light rain. But the storm would be hers. Cheong recalled a famous line from a creator she revered as a god. If that speaker had not collapsed from taking too much light rain, he would have left a great mark on modern cultural history. What a shame.
"But you know. Hmm."
Jijon Hosoin smirked.
"I thought you'd been completely broken after getting beaten, but that wasn't the case? Wagging your tail like a dog while cursing me as a son of a bitch inside?"
"Hehe. I don't know what you mean."
"Right. It's quite strange. Hmm, Yeonhwa."
Jijon Hosoin snapped his fingers. Then a woman appeared through the silks with modest movements. Even to Cheong's aesthetic sense, refined by the Jade Qilin, she was a beauty of considerable level.
"You called for me, Jijon?"
"Strip."
"Yes."
The woman immediately pulled off her palace robe. Jijon Hosoin pointed at her with his finger.
"Hey, do you see this? How many men are here? A bitch with no shame strips when told to strip. A stupid bitch."
The woman's face turned pale and her hands trembled. Cheong felt sorry for her. No, he told her to strip and now he was acting like this. Then she checked the woman's karma. Hmm. She deserved a bit more scolding.
"This is why women are no fun. They only know how to act coy."
The woman's trembling grew worse.
"But this seat really hates it when someone dares to defy me. You've experienced it yourself, so you know, right?"
Cheong's smile grew thicker. This fucking bastard. She would burn him alive. If someone built a bonfire for him, he could stay warm for a while. But if she set him on fire directly? He could stay warm for the rest of his life. She intended to gift him warmth for his entire lifetime. Only by embracing him with warmth could she correct his adorable lack of manners.
"Yes! That's it! Obedient on the surface, but radiating killing intent behind my back. I thought she was an obvious bitch, but… Ha. My body is heating up. However."
Goosebumps spread across Cheong's forearm and reached her nape in an instant. What the hell was this crazy bastard saying?
"Take her to Hwanhuigung and make her learn every Fairy Art there is. If that doesn't work, feed her elixirs until she reaches Transcendent at least. Body Reconstruction works wonders for beauty."
New martial arts! Elixirs! Cheong's eyes sparkled. Now, whether it was demonic arts or whatever, she absolutely had to crush this bastard. He was a creature that should not exist in this world. It could be called revolutionary thinking against a harsh oppressor. A mere Harmonious Realm bastard like the Nature Realm Hosoin was doing something remarkable because he wanted to die?
Cheong (Peak late stage) thought. Just wait until she reached Transcendent. She would give him five thousand Buddha's Palms.
Cheong swallowed her anger. Then Ji Seungju tried to stop Jijon Hosoin.
"Jijon. She is a woman like Sagal. She will surely bring great calamity to the Cult. Please reconsider."
"Enough. This seat has decided."
"……I will follow Jijon's command."
Ji Seungju lowered his head.