Chapter 127
Chapter 127
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 127
Chapter Title: Young Hero, Are You Alright? (2)
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"Young hero... ugh..."
Amid the tangled mess of thoughts swirling in my head, I caught sight of Mong-a starting to speak but clutching her shoulder instead.
Right. No point dwelling on this stuff. I needed to get moving first.
"Sister, the golden sore medicine..."
"I-in my pack..."
Thankfully, it didn't look like she was badly hurt. I rummaged through Mong-a's pack and pulled out the golden sore medicine.
As Mong-a slightly lifted her robes to bare her shoulder, I could see the pale skin beneath the blood-soaked fabric.
I took out a clean cloth, wiped away the blood, pressed the acupoints around it to staunch the bleeding, applied the medicine, and wrapped it with the cloth.
"Thank you..."
"No need. This happened because you were helping me, Sister. If anything, I feel ashamed."
If Mong-a hadn't saved me, I might have suffered far worse injuries than this.
I averted my eyes as Mong-a redonned her robes and hastily repacked her scattered belongings in reverse order.
Only then did it occur to me to wake the thugs I'd knocked out.
First, I tapped the acupoint of the Peak Realm expert who likely knew the most, then roughly forced my qi through his pulse gate to jolt him awake with pain.
Sure enough, the Peak Realm expert's dazed eyes sharpened into a glare of pure hatred as he opened his mouth.
"Y-you bastard...! Urgh..."
"Such a foul mouth."
I mercilessly stomped on his solar plexus without mercy. It was probably the same spot Mong-a had hit him earlier, so it must have hurt like hell.
"Those guys over there already spilled everything. You're the ones spreading rumors to hassle this sister here, right?"
"Wh-what...?"
The Peak Realm expert's eyes bulged. Then he looked at my face and quickly schooled his expression.
"Don't jump to conclusions!"
"We'll see if it's a jump once you talk."
Truth be told, it was a bit of a leap. But there were enough clues to make it a reasonable guess.
In crowded places, only lowlifes came at me based on hearsay. But in deserted spots, real attackers showed up. Doesn't that raise suspicions?
And it wasn't just this time. Back in Sichuan, they'd only struck in isolated areas too.
More than enough to suspect puppet masters pulling strings from behind.
Young hero...
Does Sister have anything to say to this one? Any leads?
Mong-a stared at me for a moment before shaking her head slightly.
Do as you like with him.
Understood.
"Those guys wouldn't give a satisfying explanation beyond stirring chaos in the martial world. That's why I woke you."
"...So it really was a leap."
"Oh, caught me, huh?"
The Peak Realm expert wiped the panic from his face, steeling himself to say nothing no matter what.
I pondered how to properly interrogate him, glancing up at the sky. It didn't look good.
A murky heaven, like it was about to dump something any second.
"Sister, the weather's turning nasty. Let's head down first."
"Alright."
Mong-a seemed to sense it too and immediately rose to prepare to move.
As I lifted her pack, I noticed something had fallen on the snow.
'Ah, must've dropped it when I hastily opened the bag.'
Wooden beads strung on a cord. Looked like the wooden balls Mong-a used for her Bullet Finger technique.
Whoooosh
The wind was picking up for real now, and snow began falling from the sky.
For the moment, I stuffed the beads into my bosom.
"H-hey! Where do you think you're going?!"
"Down the mountain. Staying put like this, we'll freeze for real."
"Me too..."
I flicked my finger, sending out Finger Wind. The Peak Realm expert, probably about to beg to be taken along, slumped into sleep as I sealed his blood flow.
Kunlun Sect would handle the aftermath.
Supporting Mong-a, whose movements were sluggish from her shoulder injury, I began descending Kunlun Mountain.
But it wasn't as quick as I'd hoped. Her wound made her internal energy flow uneven, and I wasn't used to leaping across snow-covered slopes.
The weather was dimming the sun early; everything felt off.
"Sister, we might have to spend the night on the mountain."
"Got it. Then as we go down, keep an eye out for shelter from the blizzard."
The whitening vista made scouting hard.
But after desperately searching, we finally spotted a building.
"A Guan Yu shrine..."
A small roadside shrine to Guan Yu, the folk-favorite deity. Inside the cramped one-zhang-square space sat his spirit tablet.
"We'll stay just one night..."
I entered first, bowing respectfully to the tablet before unpacking.
These shrines often had braziers for travelers, but this one didn't.
Probably figured no one would climb Kunlun just to crash here.
No fuel around, and risking fire seemed unwise, so I handed Mong-a a cloth first, then wiped the sweat from my own body.
Mong-a turned away and did the same.
Once the sweat dried and we avoided losing body heat that way, we bundled back up and sat on the floor.
'Walls help a bit.'
The wooden walls let wind whistle through gaps, but a bit of internal energy kept it bearable.
The problem was we'd burned through a lot in the fight.
'Those bastards.'
The masked goons were either asleep or unconscious; they'd probably frozen solid by now.
If they hadn't attacked half-assed, none of this would've happened.
I tried meditative breathing to recover, but the blizzard swirling everywhere meant scant heavenly yang qi—just endless streams of phantom yin qi gathering.
Short on yang energy around here, so my intake was limited.
'Those bastards.'
Unlike when rushing about, now sitting still conserving heat brought the ones I'd killed vividly back to mind.
They struck first. Fight back or die, and they'd come again if not finished.
But my hands kept trembling. I wanted to blame the cold, but thankfully—or not—my energy wasn't so depleted I was shivering uncontrollably yet.
'Those bastards.'
Kept flashing: the one charred crisp by my Palm Force, the one whose jaw I crushed, eyes rolling back as blood soaked his mask in death throes.
Even the Peak Realm expert desperately begging to be spared.
You're the bad guys. Why beg to live after failing to kill me, so shamelessly?
'Why the hell...'
Suddenly,
Grip
"Sister...?"
As faces of the slain cluttered my mind, Mong-a's hand suddenly grasping mine snapped me out of it.
Mong-a studied the young man's face closely.
Just from how he'd struck his foes, she could tell: this was his first time using killing blows.
Now those memories tormented him, his hands shaking as he relived them.
Pity stirred unbidden, and she reached out.
"Sister...?"
His hand was hot to the touch. Her own energy drain made the warmth from his palm feel good.
"Won't you talk about something? Anything?"
"What do you mean...?"
"Doesn't matter what. Zoning out and dozing off like this could be dangerous, no?"
The young man nodded as if agreeing.
The two slowly conversed.
Tales of his journey with Zhuge Mi-ryeong, events at the Nine Dragons Contest...
But suddenly, Mong-a sensed he was studiously avoiding any mention of her husband.
She didn't particularly want to bring it up either, but once it surfaced, memories of her husband flooded in.
Yumae, people are all connected in life. Help others, and it'll surely come back as reward.
Come to think of it, her husband had been the same—always meddling in others' affairs out of nosiness.
Nine times out of ten, folks thanked him, and rewards followed.
But who could've foreseen that one meddle too far would cost him his life?
That thought made her worry for this young man ahead.
'I should send him back after all.'
First impressions weren't great. From her view disliking him outright, his eyes seemed to appraise her body creepily.
But that seemed a misread. Looking again, his gaze held something closer to enmity.
When he'd seen her with the courtesan, even...
'N-no, not thinking about that.'
Speaking of which, she wasn't entirely innocent there.
Overhearing the coupling sounds had aroused her, fingering her rear till climax.
And the 'thing' in her pack now...
Shake shake
Mong-a vigorously shook her head to banish the thought, ignoring his stare, and readjusted her view of him.
Couldn't ignore someone in trouble—knew what chivalry meant, a righteous sect hero.
Moral slips aside, she didn't want this youth meeting her husband's end.
"Sister... are you cold?"
As she finalized her thoughts on him, his voice pulled her back to reality.
Deep in talk and contemplation, her mind was sharp, but cold cared not.
Hand-holding had felt warm at first, but now their body heat was ebbing.
"A-are you alright?"
Mong-a panicked, realizing she couldn't stop her voice from quivering.
"I-I'm not doing great either. So, about that..."
Mong-a gaped at his words.
This was bad. Utterly rotten, this man.
She even felt guilty for likening him to her husband over mere nosiness.
"Y-you want me to take off my clothes?"
"Yes."
Truly, the worst.