The Qi Arts Master - Chapter 38
The man nodded faintly, satisfied with Chief Steward Cheon's answer.
"It's been a full fifty years since I became a eunuch. That also means I've survived in the imperial palace, brimming with schemes and intrigue, for half a century."
Chief Steward Cheon bobbed his head vigorously in agreement, eyes darting nervously. The corners of the eunuch's mouth—known as Pang Taegam—curled up slyly.
"One of a eunuch's duties is serving the consorts, you see? Over time, you develop an eye for spotting whether someone's a man in drag or not."
Chief Steward Cheon jumped in alarm and glanced at Tian Ailang. No matter how he looked, she seemed like a woman to him—but if the elder said otherwise, then it must be so.
"And you know, Chief Steward Cheon?"
"Y-yes, sir."
Pang Taegam patted Chief Steward Cheon's cheek. Each tap made the steward tremble in fear. The figure before him was an existence he couldn't dare defy, even if dismissed as a mere ant.
"A woman, all alone, in these mountains, in this place teeming with nothing but men, boldly marching right into the heart of the camp to ask for help?"
Pang Taegam's beady eyes flashed as he glared at Tian Ailang. Tian Ailang swallowed hard, eyeing the unlucky old bastard who'd seen through his disguise. He readied himself to strike at any moment. Outwardly, though, he played the part of a fragile, frightened girl.
Pang Taegam let out a bizarre chuckle and smiled at Tian Ailang. "Yo-ho-ho. Quite the beauty, aren't you? As a man, that is. Your natural looks are so striking that even in drag, it doesn't look off. And you're quite adept at handling qi too—hiding it so well that the soldiers all fell for it, eh?"
Tian Ailang put on his best baffled expression. "......What are you talking about?"
At that, Pang Taegam bellowed. "You brat! Think you can fool me?! A healthy man daring to dress as a woman?!"
Pang Taegam startled himself with his sudden rage, twisting his scowl back into a grin. The shift was so swift it was like watching a mask play.
"Yo-ho-ho. I got a bit excited there."
Eunuch... eunuch... what was an eunuch again...? Oh!
Tian Ailang racked his brain, unable to recall what a eunuch even was. Then he remembered Bold Revolution once ranting about the imperial court's darkness, mentioning eunuchs in passing.
They handled all the palace's administrative affairs.
A guy with no 'that' down there?!...... Gah!
He'd only meant to think it, but in his shock, it slipped out loud. Tian Ailang sneaked a glance at Pang Taegam. Seeing his cheeks quivering with rage, he knew things weren't going to end well.
"I... I shall cut off that brat's 'that' and have it stuffed and mounted in my room."
What kind of nonsense was this? Tian Ailang reeled at the unimaginable words. He'd never heard anything like it in his life. Stuff his dick like a trophy?
"Has he gone mad from losing a man's symbol?!"
Gah! Once again, his inner thought burst out involuntarily. The air grew unbearably awkward.
Kwachik! Brutal internal energy erupted from Pang Taegam, shattering the furnishings around them. Chief Steward Cheon, eyeing the furious eunuch, slipped away quietly to avoid disaster.
Soon, only Pang Taegam and Tian Ailang remained in the tent, the tension thick and uneasy.
"Aiya, such a pity. Your last words made me change my mind about stuffing it."
Tian Ailang abandoned his act; the situation was beyond salvaging. He straightened up, relaxing his stance.
"Hoo.... Between this creep and Draku, what is it with all these perverts?"
Tian Ailang shook his head in disgust, glaring at Pang Taegam. In an instant, the eunuch vanished.
Tian Ailang's senses, relaxed in his natural stance, caught a lightning-fast strike. He folded space with his Shrinking Earth Technique, dodging in a blink. His refined internal energy control achieved maximum efficiency with minimal power.
No strain on the body.
Tian Ailang had been adapting to his insights and bodily changes while slaughtering those captains. Now, evading Pang Taegam's attack, he felt a growth similar to before—yet different.
His heart pounded not with worry at being trapped in the enemy camp or fear of an unexpected master, but with thrilling excitement.
Pang Taegam eyed the evader with mild surprise. "Dodged that? What's your name?"
"Tian Ailang."
"Tian Ailang? Never heard of you. A nobody dodging my strike so cleanly.... How intriguing. Yo-ho-ho-ho!"
Tian Ailang faced the man, whose eyes blazed as he laughed maniacally. "And you? What's your name?"
"Me? Yo-ho-ho, it's been ages since anyone asked. I'm Pang Fenggwal."
Tian Ailang tilted his head at the surname Pang.
"Of the Pang family?"
Pang Fenggwal scowled at the question. "Don't mention the Pang family in front of me!"
"Why not?"
They say people do more of what they're told not to. Tian Ailang glanced pityingly at the old man's crotch. Pang Fenggwal grimaced, lost in childhood memories.
* * *
"Fenggwal, my mom says not to play with you."
"Why?"
The young Fenggwal wiped his runny nose and asked innocently.
"She says you're from that lowly barbarian bloodline."
The boy relaying it seemed to just be repeating his mother, not grasping the meaning. When his playmate from the village suddenly refused to play one day, Fenggwal went home and asked his mother.
"Mommy!"
His mother was startled to see him back so early. He usually played with friends from morning till mealtime.
"Fenggwal, what happened?"
Seeing his teary eyes, she asked worriedly. At her warm voice, he burst into tears.
"Sniff, Mommy. Jingu called me a barbarian and won't play with me."
Her face darkened instantly. Silent at first, she knelt to his level and hugged him tight.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Fenggwal, sobbing on her shoulder as her tears fell, asked in surprise, "Mommy, are you crying? Because of me?"
"Sob sob sob, no, Fenggwal.... It's all Mommy's fault.... All because of this mom.... Sob sob sob."
A woman of Tujue tribe descent bore a son with a man of the Pang family. She'd saved the injured Pang clansman, sparking their bond, but he soon left for family duties, promising to return. She waited purely on his word. But after five years with no sign, she struggled to the Pang family seeking him.
What she found was her husband smiling happily with another woman—and a child in his arm. She approached, but he met her with a cold glare and scorn. "How dare a barbarian wench scheme here?" He kicked her out like trash.
Despair filled her with suicidal thoughts, but seeing her son cry with her, she resolved to survive. She scraped by selling foraged mountain greens or odd jobs. Villages shunned and discriminated against her everywhere. Though he'd abandoned her, she couldn't change the name he'd given their child—a name screaming Tujue heritage with its "gwal."
"Fenggwal, shall we move somewhere else?"
She wiped her tears, forcing a bright, trembling voice.
"No, let's stay here. Jingu says that, but he'll play with me soon. Hehe."
"......Yes, if that's what my precious boy wants."
Minor incidents followed, but in their quiet village, mother and son endured steadfastly. Misfortune strikes without warning, though. One day, a theft and murder rocked the village, and they pointed to the mountain hermit—Fenggwal's mother—as the culprit.
That day, the now-grown Fenggwal was returning from gathering wood to help her, a medicinal mushroom hidden behind his back as a surprise. Approaching home quietly, what he saw made his vision go red: his mother, dead by bitten tongue, and village men grunting as they thrust into her lower body.
In that instant, Fenggwal swung the axe meant for wood, cleaving a man's skull. As the others panicked, claiming they'd punished the thief-murderer, his axe smashed their faces in rage. He slaughtered the village, then—loathing the male symbol—hacked off his own with the axe. Bleeding, he made for the palace and became a eunuch.
From then on, Pang Fenggwal took to collecting enemies' manhoods.
* * *
"How, you ask.... My childhood was a time filled with ugliness."
Tian Ailang stared at Pang Fenggwal's sudden self-mocking words, his eyes brimming with complex emotions. Perhaps to banish the needless nightmare of youth, he closed his eyes briefly, then opened them—now burning with tiny flames.
"Aiya, struggle all you like. A descendant of barbarians, under barbarian rule, rose to the top in the empire they built. They say vengeance's end is emptiness.... Only endless regret and pain make me strong."
"What nonsense is this?!"
Tian Ailang ignored the mad ramblings and launched a surprise attack. Force Release. This time, infused with internal energy. Penetrating Force. It should pierce even protective aura.
As his palm neared Pang Fenggwal's abdomen, he countered with Golden Claw Hand, seizing his arm.
"Kugh?!"
Tian Ailang yanked free the instant he felt his grip. A moment later, and his arm would've been crushed. Monstrous grip strength.
Pang Fenggwal smirked leisurely. "The palace, you see, is Forbidden Sword territory for all but the permitted. Eunuchs, serving consorts, are absolutely barred from weapons. So we master claw techniques as basics."
He flashed his hand warningly at Tian Ailang.
"Hoo......"
Tian Ailang took a light breath. Part of him wanted to brute-force with raw power like old times. But his experiences without internal energy urged restraint from mindless qi-bashing. His body overflowed with it, yet for higher realms, he craved self-testing.
Tian Ailang grinned, shaking his stinging wrist to ease the pain. "Yo-ho. If you won't come, I'll go to you."
Immense energy condensed in Pang Fenggwal's hand. He raised it blade-like and slashed at Tian Ailang. It felt like facing a spear. He retreated with Shrinking Earth Technique, creating distance—but so swift was the strike that it nicked him despite the gap, drawing a minor wound.
How to fight efficiently?
Tian Ailang pondered while dodging his follow-ups. This path differed from his prior training—utterly novel.
"Yo-ho-ho. Dodging every which way so nimbly. Try this! Gale Blade!"
A massive surge erupted from his hand. Tian Ailang's brows furrowed.
Can't dodge this one.
"Hup!"
He formed protective aura and met his gale with Whirlwind Barrage.
Kwaaaaang! A massive explosion ripped Chief Steward Cheon's tent to shreds.