Chapter 31
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: Coefficient of Friction
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Cheonwi clicked his tongue inwardly. Seeing the eunuchs being grabbed like mice made his blood boil in reverse. As the real power behind the Eunuch Bureau, he couldn't tolerate his boys getting roughed up.
"You again?"
Nangong Soyeon narrowed her eyes and asked.
"I hope you slept well through the night."
Cheonwi bowed politely from the waist. But there was steel in that courtesy.
"That said, young hero, you mentioned a smell. The Imperial Palace is the center of the world, the most noble place there is. We manage the gardens every morning with the finest incense—talk of a stench is simply absurd."
"Hmph, your nose must be numb. Mine's picking up the vibration of rot."
Nangong Soyeon scoffed.
Cheonwi approached with a feigned look of concern. He stared straight at her face and tilted his head.
"Hmm... That's strange. My nose isn't picking up a thing."
"What?"
"Perhaps, young hero..."
Cheonwi tapped the philtrum under his nose with his index finger.
"Isn't that smell coming from your own philtrum?"
Silence.
In an instant, the garden fell as quiet as if cold water had been poured over it. The eunuchs clamped their mouths shut, and Nangong Pae's eyebrows twitched.
Nangong Soyeon doubted her own ears.
"Wh-what... did you say?"
"Well, people sometimes mistake the smell from their own philtrum for the world's. Did you brush your teeth before coming out...? Mmph!"
"You filthy cur!"
Ching-!
With a sharp burst of sound, a sword whipped out from Nangong Soyeon's waist. It was a thrust too fast for the eye to follow. The keen sword aura halted right at Cheonwi's Adam's apple.
Killing intent pricked his skin. Any ordinary person would have collapsed, legs giving way.
But Cheonwi didn't bat an eye. Instead, he glanced down at the blade's tip with interest and smirked.
"Whoa, scary stuff. Your hand's awfully quick."
"You're begging to die, aren't you? How dare a mere eunuch spout such nonsense about anyone? I'll rip out that tongue right now."
Flames shot from Nangong Soyeon's eyes.
Cheonwi raised one finger and nudged her blade slightly aside.
"Calm down, young hero. Swords are best wielded in bed anyway."
"......?"
"Ah, I mean slicing fruit, of course. What did you think I meant?"
Cheonwi grinned slyly and winked.
Nangong Soyeon's face flushed red then pale. Shame and rage surged up together. Was this dickless eunuch toying with her right now?
"You...!"
"Soyeon! Stand down!"
Nangong Pae hurriedly intervened. Drawing blades in the palace was crossing the line, even for the Murim Alliance.
But Cheonwi didn't stop. He intended to hook this arrogant cat for good. The bait was set—it was time to reel her in.
"I figured the Sword Sovereign would have some real poise, but your patience is shorter than I thought. Then again, the hysteria of a woman without a mate can be pretty frightening."
"You... you... I'll kill you!"
"If you're so confident..."
Cheonwi lowered his voice. The playfulness vanished, replaced by a deep, provocative masculine timbre.
"Come to my quarters tonight."
"What?"
"I'll show you exactly what a 'man' is."
It was ambiguous. A duel between warriors? Or something more intimate between man and woman? The line blurred.
Cheonwi drove the wedge home with a sly smile.
"Of course, if you're scared, you can tuck tail and run. Though rumors of the Murim Alliance's Sword Sovereign fleeing from a eunuch might spread."
Snap.
Nangong Soyeon heard the thread of her reason snap in her mind.
She sheathed her trembling sword. She wanted to decapitate him right then, but her father was watching. And above all, to tear that impudent mouth apart, she'd need a private moment.
"Fine. You mad bastard..."
Nangong Soyeon growled.
"Tonight, I'll cut out that filthy tongue of yours. Don't you dare run."
"I'll be waiting. Wash up thoroughly."
Cheonwi gave a polite nod and turned away. The killing intent pouring from behind stung, but his lips were curled to his ears.
'A keeper.'
Tonight, the main dish on the palace menu would be extra spicy.
Rumors spread faster than feet.
The word that the Sword Sovereign was off to kill the Eunuch Bureau's Vice Chief swept through the entire palace in moments. Eunuchs cowered in terror, silent. Palace maids whispered with thrilled expressions.
And the news reached one woman's ears first.
"B-big brother!"
The door to Cheonwi's quarters burst open as Snowflower Princess rushed in.
Her usual calm demeanor was gone; urgency filled her face.
"Princess Snowflower? What brings you without knocking?"
Cheonwi looked up from smearing something diligently on the floor.
"Is that the issue right now? Big brother, you're dueling the Sword Sovereign? What are you thinking? Do you even know what kind of woman she is?"
Snowflower stomped her feet and cried out.
"Rumor has it she grinds people up into jerky."
"Close enough. Her temper's so vicious, she draws her sword at a mere glance! And her martial arts are insanely powerful..."
Snowflower grabbed Cheonwi's arm and tugged.
"Run away. Right now. I'll hide you. In the basement storeroom of my quarters—no one will find you."
Her eyes shook with desperation. The fear of losing Cheonwi terrified her as much as a Nine Yin Meridians flare-up.
Cheonwi chuckled softly and gently pried her hand away.
"Princess, I appreciate the worry, but it's fine. Just taming one feral cat."
"A cat? That's a tiger—no, a monster!"
"Monster or tiger, once it steps into my room, it'll just be a cute pet."
Cheonwi resumed his work on the floor with confident assurance.
Snowflower finally took a close look at what he was doing. He was meticulously applying a transparent, sticky liquid all over the floor.
"What's... that? Oil?"
"Special lubricant. Drastically reduces the coefficient of friction."
"And that...?"
What Cheonwi had strung across the ceiling was a thin, transparent thread. Nearly invisible to the naked eye, but the taut tension was no joke.
"Spider silk tougher than piano wire. Rare stuff airlifted from the Southern Barbarians."
Cheonwi hummed a tune as he checked his traps.
The simulation in his head was already complete.
Sword Sovereign Nangong Soyeon. Strong. A head-on fight would give even Cheonwi a tough time. But this wasn't a battlefield—it was his home turf, his room.
'Cooking's half prep.'
To Cheonwi, Nangong Soyeon was like a premium meal kit, prepped and ready for stir-fry. Just rip open the packaging and cook—fresh and lively.
"There, all set."
Cheonwi clapped his hands in satisfaction.
"Princess, you should head back now. Guest arrives soon. Spectating's dangerous—best to sit this out."
"B-but..."
"If you want to sleep by my side, I'll call you after. Special service tonight."
Snowflower's face burned at his whisper. She hemmed and hawed but finally left, pushed by Cheonwi.
"If you get hurt... I won't forgive you."
Her parting words were unclear—threat or plea?
Midnight.
Even moonlight hidden by clouds, pitch-black darkness blanketed the palace.
As all lights died, a black shadow silently dropped onto the roof of Cheonwi's quarters.
Nangong Soyeon.
She wore inky black night clothes, long hair tied tight, treasured sword on her back—like the grim reaper himself.
'A mere eunuch dares humiliate me? I'll kill you without a trace.'
Her eyes glittered with murder.
The daytime insult had seared into her bones. Philtrum smell? Bedside swordplay? Vulgar words she'd never heard in her life. Her pride was shredded; the only salve was Cheonwi's blood.
Nangong Soyeon erased her presence completely and crept along the tiles to the eaves.
The window was slightly ajar. As if tempting her to enter.
'Sloppy.'
She sneered, gripped the frame, and slipped inside with fluid grace.
Landing.
Zero noise. Quieter than a cat.
The room was dark. No candlelight, pure blackness. She circulated her qi to sharpen her vision and scanned the space.
Empty.
Bed, chair, table—all vacant.
'Fled?'
No, impossible. That brazen fool wouldn't run. Hiding, then?
That was when it came.
A chilling voice from behind.
"Welcome. First time in an eunuch's room?"
Goosebumps erupted across Nangong Soyeon's body. No presence at all. How had he flanked her?
She spun reflexively, reaching for her sword.
"You rat bastard...!"
Pop!
The instant she kicked off the floor.
'Trip.'
Something snagged her toe, followed by a crisp snap.
At the same moment, the floor—supposed to be solid—turned slick as ice.
"Wh...?"
Nangong Soyeon's balance crumbled.
She was a martial expert. She could hold steady on ice or mud. But this was another level.
Cheonwi's special lube erased friction down to decimals. Plus, the transparent thread snaring her ankle yanked her center of gravity backward forcibly.
"Gyah!"
A pathetic yelp escaped the Sword Sovereign.
In her flailing vision, Cheonwi's silhouette appeared in the dark, holding a rope, smiling like he was having the time of his life.
"Careful now. Floor's a bit slippery."
Nangong Soyeon instinctively stabbed her sword into the ground for balance.
Bam-!
"Such cheap tricks...!"
Her treasured blade, White Flower Sword, pierced deep into the floor. Normally, she'd use it as leverage to recover. She was the Sword Sovereign, after all.
But Cheonwi's room was no ordinary arena.
The moment she gritted her teeth and leaned into the hilt.
Swish-!
A faint snap from the ceiling. Before she could react, something thin and transparent sliced through the air.
The spider silk from the Southern Barbarians.
Fine yet tougher than steel, it coiled snake-like around her wrist and hilt.
"Wh...?"
No time to panic. The ceiling pulley activated, yanking the silk with brutal tension.
Creak, clang!
"Aaaagh!"
Pain like her wrist snapping, and her sword flew from her hand—no, upward. White Flower Sword was hauled to the rafters, dangling helplessly.
The Sword Sovereign was disarmed.
Suddenly bare-handed, Nangong Soyeon floundered on the slick floor, balance lost.