Mistaken for a Fiend (3)
On the short path to the prison, Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo thought.
'As expected, she must have been hiding something from me.'
No wonder the sect's inner quarters had suddenly grown so noisy.
But the thing she was hiding was in the prison?
'Most likely a disciple who brought shame upon the sect.'
All sects in this world do their utmost to select the finest talents when accepting disciples.
Yet disciples who tarnish the sect's name have always existed, from ancient times to the present, East to West.
Even in Bongrae-pa, where Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo held enmity toward certain foes, there were a few who had only brought disgrace to the sect.
'Normally, such matters are handled internally by the sect. But if it crosses the line into something unforgivable...'
This was the extent of Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo's deductions.
But upon actually facing the prison's sole inmate, she realized her reasoning had been wrong from start to finish.
'...Lady of the Ninth Heaven.'
A beauty. How could such a beauty walk this earthly realm?
Had she descended from the Moon Palace of Guanghan, swum up from the Dragon Palace, or ridden a silk rope down as a divine maiden serving the Heavenly Sovereign?
To make even a Flower Realm master falter for a moment was no easy feat.
Cheon Do-yeon had achieved it.
Without intent, through the sheer purity of her beauty—the overwhelming violence of her allure.
Looking closer, one eye was bandaged, dulling that beauty considerably. Her clothes were filthy and rags, oddly loose as if borrowed from someone else. Straws tangled in her peach-blossom hair, which was disheveled and unkempt.
Despite all these flaws, she transcended beauty.
"Huh?"
The transcendent beauty parted her lips.
Her voice was a melody too—could the qin plucked by fairies' fingers, or the flute blown by their lips, sound like this?
"Huh?? Huh, what!? That kid from the gate, the Murim guy!?"
...Some remark that shattered the mood?
Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo circulated yin energy to her head, swiftly regaining composure.
"Do you know me?"
Seeing she wasn't recognized,
Cheon Do-yeon suddenly realized her appearance had completely changed.
'In this situation, how do I survive?'
Her mind raced.
For now, the Bongrae-pa elder before her seemed fundamentally kind.
She'd pitied a chance-met youth enough to share a bit of her qi as pain relief.
In this moment, begging her was the surest path.
"You remember the young man you helped this morning, right?"
"Were you watching me aid him?"
"Truth is, I'm that young man."
"...Hmm?"
As expected, she didn't believe it.
"I'll show you proof."
Cheon Do-yeon focused her mind on her dantian.
'Found it.'
What she'd managed before blacking out: wrapping the magi whole in qi and shoving it into her dantian.
She peeled off a sliver of that qi, guided it from her dantian to her fingertip, and extended it toward Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo.
Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo tensed at the unfamiliar Murim woman's actions.
'A peculiar woman.'
But the clustered energy at her fingertip looked pure.
It touched. And Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo started in shock.
'This is...!?'
Daoist qi—no, Bongrae-pa's daoist qi.
As the elder lifted her head in astonishment, the peach-haired beauty flashed a cheeky grin.
"Believe me now?"
"You're truly that boy from this morning?"
"Yes!"
"H-how in the world...? You were so broken back then, you could've dropped dead that very day..."
And this person, who couldn't handle any martial arts before, was now manipulating inner energy with such finesse?
'Even I couldn't control qi so freely on my first day of training. Not even my master or the current sect leader...!'
What kind of talent was this!?
"No, wait—how did a man become a woman...!?"
"I'll explain everything later, so please help me out, Bongrae-pa elder! If I'd done something wrong, fine, but this is so unfair!"
"R-right. What on earth led to you being locked up like this?"
"Well—"
A commotion erupted outside the prison.
"You little wretch, Joo Yeon!!!"
"I apologize, I apologize, Sect Leader!"
A middle-aged man in white daoist robes, hair tied back, stormed in—dragging Joo Yeon by the hair.
Dobongpa's sect leader, Jong In.
Spotting Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo, Jong In hurriedly clasped his hands in salute.
"Lady Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo, forgive my disciple's reckless behavior—such grave discourtesy."
"It's fine."
"Please, leave this squalid place at once."
"That's fine too. I wish to hear this woman's story first."
Jong In stiffened.
"...A matter for an elder to concern herself with?"
"I want to hear it."
A clear hierarchy.
And for Cheon Do-yeon, who had survived ten years of constant life-or-death threats since the Gate incident, one skill had been honed to razor sharpness.
Intuition. The eye for reading atmospheres.
And her intuition screamed: now.
"That woman from this sect, Nam Yeon, tried to kill me! And Sect Leader, you took my sword, my mirror, and my martial arts manual!"
"Such—"
"Plus, that Nam Yeon abused and bullied her junior even! Hey, Joo Yeon, you were getting beaten half to death by her too, right?!"
"Y-yes! I was in real danger, but the fairy lady saved me! Without her, Sect Leader, you'd have seen your disciple dead!"
Didn't expect such enthusiastic backup—nice!
"You Dobongpa martial artists crowding there!! Testify for me. What was Nam Yeon usually like!?"
"What!?"
Jong In whirled around to find not just the first- and second-generation disciples, but even third-gen ones swarming in—dozens in total.
"You lot...! Skipping training for this!?"
But the sect's inner quarters were a dull, quiet space.
When commotion stirs, people flock—human nature.
Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo inwardly marveled.
'Wondered why she suddenly raised her voice—so this was her aim!'
But Cheon Do-yeon read the flow precisely once more.
'Ah, too many disciples?'
Humiliating Dobongpa's sect leader for real satisfaction might feel good now.
But it'd make enemies.
If she wanted to live long, better not make foes. Even beggars or the disabled could kill if they harbored true grudge—surprisingly, even limbless folk managed.
Turning a mid-sized sect's leader into an enemy? That was suicidal.
So, pivot here.
"Aigoo, Sect Leader, please spare this poor girl's life! Can't you show a little mercy? Look how hurt I am—one eye's ruined!!"
Aigoo, it hurts! Aigoo, pity me!
She thrust forward the bandaged part, appealing aggressively.
"It wasn't even intentional murder—just warriors clashing, an accident. Do you really need my life, my breath, to feel at ease!?"
"N-no... that's..."
Jong In glanced nervously at the disciples behind him.
Masters must show dignity before disciples. Humiliate him, and he'd become an enemy.
But for the same reason, masters must appear just and fair before them.
Dobongpa was a righteous sect. Extreme punishment on a beggar for mercy would shake their daoist banner.
Especially with bad optics—whispers denouncing Nam Yeon spread among the disciples.
Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo joined the flow.
Stepping to the prison gate, she stood facing Jong In—clearly signaling whose side she was on.
"She's begging like that—must you be so harsh? Showing magnanimity here would suit a great figure well."
Inwardly, she clicked her tongue.
'This kid—how does she twist every situation to her advantage?'
Gathering the crowd, steering their momentum her way.
All in the blink of an eye.
'A kid full of talents in every way.'
If she'd passed the imperial exams and entered court, she'd have shone in politics too.
For ten years, Black Spot Disease had wasted such gifts. Tragic, even on second thought.
'...Hold on.'
Then, granting this kid a small favor now—might it become a massive investment later?
Of course, Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo was a daoist, not a merchant.
But even daoists pick up money dropped before them.
Likewise, investing in a prime opportunity right here was only natural.
'Shall I teach her martial arts myself? What from the canon can I share with non-sect disciples...'
With Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo ahead and disciples behind, Jong In, squeezed between, finally conceded defeat.
"...Very well. Since our disciple erred first, we'll show mercy there."
"Thank you, Sect Leader! Then—"
"But!"
Not over yet.
"I can't release her immediately. Because even you, Lady Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo, are being deceived."
"Me? How so?"
"We didn't imprison this wench just for killing our disciple. She's a demonic cultivator who practices ma-gong!"
"Ma-gong?"
"Han Myeong-ah! Gyeong Myeong-ah!"
At the sect leader's call, two second-gen disciples hurried forward.
The ones who'd entered the gate with Nam Yeon.
In other words, direct witnesses to Nam Yeon and Cheon Do-yeon's fight.
"Our sect disciples testified—she wielded pitch-black, sinister energy!"
Jong In spat fervently.
"Unmistakably ma-gong! And one who practices ma-gong can't be released recklessly—"
"Sect Leader Jong In."
Hyeon Song Cheon Nyeo had maintained calm until now. For the first time, her voice turned icy cold.
"That's utter nonsense."