Chapter 15
Chapter 15
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: Past - 10 Years Ago
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-10 years ago-
It was before Master took me in and began teaching me anything.
"For starters, your dantian is ruined, so it won't be easy to teach you any martial arts."
"..Pardon?"
I can't learn martial arts.
It was the moment my secret hope of mastering martial arts came crashing down.
"What in the world happened to wreck your dantian like this? If it simply hadn't formed because you'd never practiced any martial arts, that'd be one thing—but these are clear signs it was once formed and then shattered."
"..You're talking about me?"
"That's right. You."
"..."
Of course I had no idea.
When I first opened my eyes in this body, I was already on the brink of death in some filthy back alley.
I'd somehow clung to life until I met Master, but there was no way I'd know the original owner's past.
"Well, it's only natural you wouldn't know. It's not your body, after all."
"...!"
"Why so shocked? Did you think I wouldn't notice?"
"How could you tell.."
I hadn't exactly been hiding it, but I had no plans to advertise the fact either.
Who'd believe I came from another world and this wasn't my original body? They'd just call me insane.
"It's not obvious at a glance, but get up close and keep looking, and you can spot it. Your soul and body aren't in harmony—they're all twisted up. Like jamming two mismatched pieces together by force."
"..Master. I didn't mean to do it.."
"Why the fear? It's hardly worth fretting over."
"..You don't think I stole this body?"
"Anyone capable of such advanced sorcery wouldn't pick a vessel like this when far better ones are lying around everywhere. And when I first found you, weren't you half-dead already?"
"..."
"Well, the face is at least worth a second look."
A body with nothing going for it but its looks.
Small, soft, fragile.
And now, unable to learn martial arts on top of that.
'What the hell did I do to deserve this mess..'
If I'd committed some sin and gotten soul-swapped as punishment, at least I wouldn't feel so hard done by.
No, this was pure bad luck—suddenly dumped into an unfamiliar body in an unfamiliar world, forced to scrape by. How could I not feel aggrieved?
"..Master."
"What is it?"
"Didn't you say I looked like a lump of meju yesterday?"
"..."
For some reason, I had nightmares that night.
Terrifying ones that drove me to burrow into the bosom of the woman sleeping beside me without even realizing it.
"..None."
"My apologies. I saw some familiar traces, you see."
It was an incredibly rude question.
Asking a total stranger if they'd ever studied at some sect in the past?
Rude enough that I could've shown my displeasure.
"Now that your curiosity's sated, may I share the divination results?"
But I wasn't about to mouth off to someone who looked like a martial arts powerhouse.
Those calluses were no joke.
Like someone who'd swung a sword their entire life.
"Oh? Already? Quicker than I expected."
"I've spent ten years in the mountains doing nothing else. Seems the heavens are taking a shine to me."
If those heavens were the ones who dragged me into this world, I'd unload a whole basket of curses to vent.
But I'd adapted by now and was getting by just fine.
'Surely the entire Central Plains won't erupt into war or anything.'
If it did, I'd need to plot some escape route—but for the moment, no need to worry.
The customer right in front of me was what mattered.
"Hmm.."
Let me explain how it works when I perform a divination and relay the results to someone.
First, during the reading, I draw in the qi of heaven or read the records to receive a sort of revelation.
Then I translate that into words and pass it along—but that's where the trouble starts.
Leakage of Heavenly Secrets is entirely up to heaven's whim; the safe range varies wildly.
I can instinctively sense 'this much is okay to say' versus 'stop here or else,' but with no fixed guidelines, it's exhausting.
Some customers gripe that I give others all the details but skim theirs.
'Heaven's fair? What nonsense.'
In my eyes, nothing in the world is as blatantly biased as heaven.
Sometimes you can just tell someone's got heaven eating out of their hand—the readings come out golden, the leakage limits are generous, and I can heap on the good news.
'Out of everyone I've read for, Dang Ayoung was about the top tier.'
Anyway, that's why I asked that.
This woman seemed just as favored by heaven...
"By any chance, do you have someone you keep close to your heart?"
"..Pardon?"
"Ah, not in a romantic sense—just someone you think about often, someone who weighs on your mind."
"Hmm.."
Sword Empress thought of one woman.
If it was the person she dwelled on most, fretted over most, there was only the Heavenly Demon.
She did worry about her fellow Mount Hua Sect elders and such, of course—but ever since witnessing the Heavenly Demon's prowess, not a single day passed without her on Sword Empress's mind.
When swinging her sword, when training, even when resting.
"Yes."
"That person will take something precious from you."
"...!!"
The only thing that came to mind when she heard something precious would be stolen by the Heavenly Demon...
The Central Plains. Mount Hua Sect under attack.
-Trembling-
Horrifying to even imagine.
That was why she'd thrown herself into training nonstop—to prevent it.
And yet, to hear such a prophecy...
'..No. Not yet.'
Too soon to jump to conclusions.
It might not point to the Heavenly Demon or Mount Hua Sect.
He hadn't said so explicitly.
"..What exactly will they take?"
"Hmm.. Something as dear to you as your life. Like a lifelong companion?"
"..."
As dear as my life. A lifelong companion.
Mount Hua. Or her sword.
If the latter, it meant she'd clash with the Heavenly Demon—and her sword would shatter before her.
That was preferable, actually.
Shed long steeled herself for that possibility, and it beat the alternative. Even if she broke, the Central Plains and Mount Hua would endure.
..But what if it was the former?
Or both?
"..How accurate are your divinations?"
"I get it wrong sometimes.. but they hit about eighty percent."
Eighty percent. High odds.
She couldn't take his word as gospel, but given the rumors, his gift for reading heaven's secrets was undeniably sharp.
"If I may offer personal advice.. fate isn't set in stone. The heavens always prepare alternate paths. And from what I sense.. this is a future you can avert. Provided you put in the effort."
"..How?"
"Hmm.. Start paying more attention to yourself."
"Hmm.."
She resolved to focus even harder on her training.
"Whoa, recited it almost verbatim."
This was a rare customer.
Eight Trigrams divinations don't let me see full future scenes—just fragments—so dodging heavenly leakage while relaying them is tricky.
But for once, here was someone I barely had to worry about it for.
"Must be loved by heaven."
What kind of virtue had she racked up in her past life for the heavens—who could be such a prickly bunch—to treat her this well?
'Looks like she built up a mountain of good karma.'
Afterward, she thanked me and tossed an ingot of silver before leaving.
Something similar happened about a month back, I think? Memory's fuzzy.
Money's money.
Nothing to sweat.
'Speaking of which, really wanna give this a spin soon.'
I fiddled with the fist-sized pearl tucked in my bosom.
Master's prized possession—I'd snuck it along before heading out, figuring I'd give it a try.
She was in secluded training anyway.
No use for it there. Better for someone out in the world to make good use of it.
Tools exist to be used, after all.
Problem was, I had zero clue how.
'I can at least blend its inner qi into my divinations.'
When Master read my fortune before, she'd pulled off all sorts with it.
Even used it for mine.
'Means I should at least be able to divine with it..'
And yet, pouring my qi into the pearl yielded zilch.
Let me think. How had Master used it back when she read my fortune?
'Ah, right. My hair.'
She'd definitely placed a strand of my hair atop it.
'Okay, then for mine..'
I recalled that detail and laid a lock of my own hair on it. Still nothing.
'..Doesn't work on the caster themselves?'
Fortune tellers can't read their own fortunes—that tracked.
I considered grabbing some random strand from the shop, but using an unknown person's hair felt off.
Then who nearby could I ask for just a single strand..
'..Only one option.'
I'd ask later.
'That fortune teller.. he said the traces felt familiar..'
Sword Empress mulled over his words as she made her way back to her quarters, replaying the marks she'd glimpsed on his body.
'Hard to make out clearly with his dantian in ruins.. but those were unmistakably Mount Hua Sect qi circulation traces.'
No way she'd misread them. It wasn't as if someone else could've.
Those were the marks of the basic qi art all fresh Mount Hua disciples learned upon entry.
'A ruined dantian means either a grave sin.. or some accident.'
A brand-new disciple. A shattered dantian.
A hazy memory began to bubble up.
Her deepest regret, the wound that still stung.
'..No, it can't be.'
How much effort had she poured into searching for that child back then?
It had to be a mistake on her part.
It was over ten years ago, after all.