Chapter 25
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 25
Chapter Title: Messenger Pigeons Are Losers of the Era (1)
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There are two reasons my motivation to attend classes hasn't waned yet.
The Medical Hall—serving as both the classroom and a treatment center for various accidents—sat neatly between West Pavilion and the dorms, making the commute a breeze.
And...
"Oh! With me, little sis?"
"Yeah! Young Master Geum! You're taking this class too?"
Myo Narang welcomed me with a smile so pure and radiant it was 100% sunshine, her heart brimming with genuine kindness.
Plus, there was another stroke of luck.
The pint-sized tagalong who always stuck to her like glue was nowhere in sight!
Of course, Cheon Luri never really talked to me even in front of Narang, so her presence wouldn't have changed much anyway.
"Why's a little sis like you taking a class like this?"
"Hehe. I'm personally interested."
"Herbs? Poisons?"
"Hmm... Poisons?"
The moment the word poison left my lips, a faint shadow flickered in Narang's eyes.
I'd noticed it little by little lately.
True to her rural admission roots, she carried some darkness in her heart.
The classic cliché.
The bright, cheerful heroine shrouded in a dark past...
And the guy who trusts and relies on her to the end...
"Kyuu?"
"Kyawoo?"
Animals that couldn't even read the mood.
My budding creative spark got forcibly shut down.
Instead, a breathless game of pursuit unfolded between the two beasts.
Dog trait: Sniff butts to identify friend or foe.
The wolf pup leaped from my lap.
It targeted the squirrel clutching an acorn from somewhere, hot on its trail.
But squirrels aren't pack animals by nature.
"Kyuuuaang!"
The squirrel used Tail Whip Frenzy!
But the effect was negligible...
Sure, the squirrel might be a notable spirit beast down in the Southern Barbaric lands.
But it was outclassed against the wolf pup on a whole different level.
Ignoring the bushy, thrashing tail, the wolf pup sniffed away shamelessly, even daring to nip at it gently.
Narang and I watched, our lips twitching.
"Waaah...! They're even cuter in real life!"
Her already huge eyes sparkled like polished marbles, overflowing with light.
"Can I pet them?"
I nodded without a word.
And then.
Chomp!
Roll roll!
Shiver!
"Kyawooo...!"
Maybe it was her experience raising pets all her life, or perhaps the Beast Palace's innate talent.
The fierce little guy who still snapped at beggars and gamblers melted in Narang's hands in just ten seconds.
"Hmph..."
"Kyuit."
As the squirrel relocated to my shoulder at some point, we watched the scene indifferently.
Creak—
The third student entered.
As if nothing had happened, the two beasts returned to their respective owners.
"Did I walk into the wrong class by any chance?"
"...This is definitely Herbal Medicine and Toxicology."
Not Animal Understanding.
You came to the right place.
A moment later.
No idea how many had originally signed up.
But six of us ended up in the spacious classroom.
Five was the cutoff for cancellation, so it was a close call.
Tsk tsk.
So many ignorant fools who don't grasp why herbal medicine and toxicology are crucial in the jianghu.
Internal injuries can be healed with breath control and meditation.
But bleeding or poison status effects? They snatch lives away in seconds.
A crystal-clear fact I'd experienced firsthand in my previous life—right down to my brain.
Soon.
Creak—
The door creaked open again.
"...Class begins."
A scrawny guy shuffled weakly to the podium.
The instructor for Herbal Medicine and Toxicology.
Tang Mok.
...I'm not one to judge by looks.
But in this world bloated with beauty inflation.
That face doesn't come easy.
Prestigious sect disciples usually start a notch above average looks.
Most inner arts cultivate not just meridians but appearance too.
Passed down generations, they've molded into ideal beauties—that's today's martial world.
...Or so they say.
What nonsense.
Not like they're genetically engineered humans.
Yet.
"...Herbal Medicine and Toxicology originally stemmed from materia medica without distinction, but in today's martial world, the narrow view has hardened: medicine is medicine, poison is poison..."
The man's face—drone-like, reciting the textbook preface without passion for an instructor.
To be blunt, though harsh.
He had the sinister look of a third-rate extra villain.
And whenever he glanced up and met my eyes.
...Maybe I have a bias against the Tang Family.
But there was a glint of hostility in that gaze.
I'd poked around just to test.
And hit the jackpot surprisingly fast.
No hard proof yet, of course.
But who doesn't have dirt if you shake them down?
Even after that sleep-aid-level class mercifully ended.
I approached Instructor Tang Mok.
Locking eyes with those green pupils that hid some odd emotion, despite his listless face.
Low posture first.
"I've wanted to pay my respects sooner, but greetings come late. I've long admired the lofty fame of the Sichuan Tang Clan, and heard you helped greatly during my severe illness. I'm Geum Sihyeon of Ten Thousand Gold Treasury."
I bowed deeply.
"...Ahem. Yes."
Catching him off guard with my deference, he responded awkwardly.
"I've heard Instructor Tang holds unmatched vast knowledge in toxicology. Please guide me generously ahead."
I slipped in wiki info from a quick class skim, supporting my left wrist with my right as I extended a hand.
He couldn't refuse outright, reluctantly grasping it.
Heh heh.
Plan's on track.
Now I had a way to dig up his background later...
Eh...?
Lifting my head, I nearly lost my composure.
Floating above him wasn't his real name, but a gallery ID.
[D_illIlIIiIl]
A barcode.
No way.
These guys are insane?
Should've clocked it from Sichuan Gallery, where they trash Ami or Qingcheng and always prefix with [Tang].
"Ahem."
"Ah, sorry."
Strategic retreat here.
His visible relief when I let go screamed suspicion.
But false accusation's a capital crime equivalent.
No need to bare teeth without solid proof.
Walking side-by-side with Narang—who'd been kyuu-ing outside—I picked up some chit-chat.
"Come to think of it, which club are you joining, Young Master Geum?"
"Ah."
Clubs, right.
One of the few ways in Hundred Flowers Academy to connect with second- or third-year seniors.
In my old life, I only had one club option.
Go-Home Club—what else?
But no such thing here; for networking alone, joining's mandatory.
"Still deciding. You?"
"Hmm... I don't know the clubs well either. There's a club expo this weekend—wanna check it out? Hehe."
There's that too?
I thanked Narang for the premium intel.
Our steps reached the dorms.
She seemed like she had something to say, but after a goodbye with the squirrel, she trotted off.
Eh.
She'll MartialTalk it later if needed.
Finally, I could pull out my smartphone in peace.
Checking your phone mid-convo's mega rude.
...Not exactly presentable anyway.
Let's see.
Luri-kid's adapted to the gallery splendidly.
Still clinging to her identity over anon nicks, though.
Better than blatantly using 'Luliring'.
The second post's kinda cute.
Screenshot for future teasing fodder, then I licked through more.
Title: Anyone know Blood Wolf Sword Technique??
Absolutely not me knowing it or anything
Heard it in class,
Is it common??
What the fuck lol
.....
Just a sigh for the rookie's raw, unpolished question.
But blatantly front-loading research like this.
Stubborn streak for a kid.
Good thing no replies yet.
First comments seal the deal in communities.
I slammed the gates with perfection.
Wrapping up newbie lurking for now.
Today's real goal.
Scour the gallery, sort Tang Family scum, screenshot any villainy proof.
I can't perfectly ID barcodes, but choosing those screams shady intent, right?
That D prefix too.
Not D clan royalty or whatever—ding, tsk.
Fed the wolf pup a hearty dinner.
Then holed up in the training room, eyes burning as I combed the gallery.
Plenty use fixed nicks.
But stubbornly anon? Suspicious.
...Not that I can talk.
Deep dives yielded no big catches or blatant trolling.
Overthinking? Judging by gut and face alone?
Guilt creeping in.
"Oh."
Finally, amid unknown Tang bros, a barcode matching Tang Mok's pattern.
Title reeked, hesitant click.
Checked contents carefully.
Nothing special.
But the photo showed an animal nearly extinct in the Central Plains.
Pigeon.
No one's raising ornamental pigeons—that mad.
Messenger pigeon.
Who uses pigeons with smartphones around? Only dinosaurs out of touch.
...Makes it even shadier.
Come to think, smelled crap from Medical Hall's backyard.
Primitive Central Plains uses dung as meds.
But pigeon shit? Useless junk.
Worth slow investigation.