I Am This Murim's Crazy Bitch-Chapter 251: The Appearance of the Divine Dragon (7)

To Qing, honestly... screaming to be killed after just a little over a year of suffering? Come on.

You’re the one who turned the Heavenly Demon Cult into a demonic cult.

After such a productive session of Flowing Flame Refinement, Qing took a nap, and when she woke up, the sun was already high in the sky.

She went down to see who might be visiting today, and—oh?

“Well, well! Look who it is! Oogrhghrh! Why climb a mountain if the mountain isn’t here? Where’s the mountain?! When are we finally going to go at it for real!?”

“Urgh...”

“What’s this? Was this not the mountain? What mountain did you climb that it disappeared on you? Hah! The mountain’s still a long way off.”

“...Watch your mouth.”

“Huh. I guess she’s stronger than I thought.”

“That girl.”

At that, Paeng Daesan’s face twisted into a deep frown.

Qing frowned along with him.

“‘That girl,’ huh. You weren’t even that close, so don’t speak like that. She’s just shy, but she’s incredibly kind.”

“It’s not that... hm.”

Paeng Daesan’s brows twitched. “Umm.” Then more twitching.

It was clear he was hesitating hard about whether or not to say something.

So Qing just asked him directly.

“What?”

“I’m not sure if I should tell you this...”

“Then don’t bring it up in the first place. You want me to die from suspense?”

“Alright. But just so you know, this isn’t an excuse.

I just think... you ought to know.”

“What is it that you have to set up like that?”

“She was drawing on Innate Energy.

Looks like she’s learned some kind of special martial technique that uses it.”

“Who? Yeye?”

Daesan nodded.

“Huh. She’s using Innate Energy?

You mean she’s burning her lifespan to use martial arts?”

Now Qing understood why he said it wasn’t an excuse.

It was a warning not to misunderstand—he wasn’t saying Gongsun Yoye lost the duel because she pushed herself too far.

Though, to Qing, it did feel a bit like he was implying exactly that.

“I just thought you should know. I lost.

I bear no grudge. So don’t look at me with those eyes.”

Daesan, seeing Qing’s suspicious expression, emphasized it again.

Qing replied with a serious look.

“Hmm. I should talk with Yeye.”

Using up Innate Energy just to win a duel...

No, this wasn’t “just”—she was literally burning her life force.

Was winning this martial tournament that important to her?

Compared to that, I...

......

...

Qing was deep in thought when—

“Unnie! Gaga-unnie!”

“Oh? That voice... Where are you?!”

Thud-thud-thud! The sound of short legs pounding the ground, and something jumped right onto Qing’s waist.

“You rascal! Xiangyi!”

Qing scooped Jegal Xiang into the air and spun around—once, twice, three times...

“Kyahaha!”

Without a hint of dizziness, Xiangyi burst into a child’s clear, bell-like laughter.

****

Meanwhile, Master Muak was on his way to Mucheon Pavilion.

But, hmm. How should he even bring this up?

He couldn’t just walk up and say, “Hey, hand over Tathagata’s Palm,” could he?

And that Ximen Surin woman wouldn’t be easy to deal with either.

So Muak’s steps grew slower and slower, until he looked like some wandering loafer, completely at ease.

He passed through the gates of Mucheon Pavilion and walked into the training ground.

It was a beautiful day, and the young martial artists were sweating as they sparred with full concentration.

What a good time in life, he thought, as he looked around for Qing.

Her striking beauty made her easy to spot.

She was plopped down comfortably on the grass, legs crossed, holding a tiny girl in her lap.

“Gaga-unnie, what kind of blanket do you like? I really like goose-down blankets—they’re light and super fluffy!”

Gaga-unnie?

Now that was a strange form of address.

Master Muak tilted his head.

Well, women do have their own ways of talking, especially if they’re close friends.

“Hmm... I guess I just like a soft inner lining.

If it’s light, it’s soft in its own way, and if it’s heavy, that heaviness makes it feel cozy too...

It’s hard to pick a favorite, honestly.

But why’re you asking about blankets? Planning to give me one as a gift?”

“Heehee! I’ve been making a wedding trousseau list lately!”

Muak tilted his head again.

Wedding trousseau? Between girls?

And wait, she only looks about ten years old...

“Ahem.”

“Ah!”

Only then did Qing notice Master Muak.

Even with her senses sharp as ever from the wind flowing past her, she hadn’t noticed him approaching—her guard shot up for a moment.

But the instant she saw the shining bald head, she relaxed completely.

“This monk here is called Muak, a bald old monk.

Surely you’ve heard my name before?”

“Ah! Supreme Under Heaven! Hello! This girl is called Jegal Xiang!”

Because Jegal Xiang blurted it out without even counting one or two beats, Qing missed her timing. What the—wasn’t it a national rule to shout on the second beat?

Qing also stood up and offered a polite greeting.

At that moment, Muak finally looked directly into Qing’s eyes up close. Beyond the clear Daoist breath and the Buddhist discipline—there was, ever so faintly, a glimpse of some vicious madness, a madness...

This... this rabid dog! This mad bitch! How could someone have raised a child of a heavenly calamity!

Other martial masters might have assumed that she inherited Yeogwanggyeon’s madness as her disciple, but the eyes of the Supreme Under Heaven saw the essence clearly.

It was the shape of the most ominous starlight in the world—crushed and tightly restrained between two hands. One hand was the elegant Daoist immortal path, the other, the great compassionate heart of Buddhism. It was as if the moral path of the world was barely holding back the most malicious of natures.

“Hoho... Hmm. This old monk has something to speak with this child about. Little lady of the Jegal family, could you give us a moment of privacy?”

“Ah—yes...”

Jegal Xiang bowed politely, turned her head this way and that to find her big brother, and scampered off.

“Hmm. Yes. I came to speak with you. Would you mind moving to a different place?”

****

Mucheon Pavilion also had a tearoom. Seated there, while one of the Mucheon Pavilion attendants brewed tea, Muak sat in silence with a serious expression.

It was Qing who spoke first.

“Master. Did you come because of the divine technique? I should’ve gone to greet you first. I’m terribly sorry.”

“Hmm. No. It’s only right for the one with business to come first. What kind of adult sends the junior to do all the work? Though... as an elder, I suppose I do make juniors do the work.”

Saying so, Master Muak looked at Qing.

Right now, the calamity-star that could drown the world in blood was sitting right before his eyes.

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Yeogwanggyeon, that damned woman, had gone on about female martial equality—and now she’d gone and truly crossed the line.

No matter how one suppressed a blood-born calamity, how could a human possibly defy their heavenly fate?

In the end, she would become a great evil, a disaster where blood would flow as tears—and so, he should crush her throat right here and now.

Forget Tathagata’s Palm—there were more important things at stake—

“Then shall I recite the mnemonics for you now? Or would you prefer it written down as a manual?”

“Eh? Are you saying you’ll just give the divine technique?”

“Rather than giving, isn’t it more like returning? You said it was originally Shaolin’s, so it’s only right to return it to its owner.”

“......Is that your thought? Or the thought of Surin—your master?”

“Master said it wasn’t her fate, and told me to decide for myself.”

Her expression carried not a trace of hesitation—it was the calm sincerity of someone speaking from the heart.

At that, Master Muak snapped to full attention.

“If you wish, Shaolin will give you whatever treasures we have, without reservation. How about it? Even so, will you just hand it over freely?”

“Eh, what would a Taoist even do with wealth? Divine Maiden Sect isn’t poor, and I don’t really need money myself.”

“Hoho... Then what about elixirs? Surely you know the value of the Great Restoration Pill. We currently have twelve of them in the Imperial Pharmacy, and over fifty Lesser Restoration Pills—we can give them all.”

“Hmm... Master said my inner energy is already enough to match experts at the Haegyeong level, so I’m not exactly desperate for elixirs. But... if you gave me one, no, two pills, that might be nice.”

“Why two?”

“One for my master. And the other... um, a friend of mine uses martial arts that consume Innate Energy.”

“You mean the child of the Gongsun family.”

“Ah! You knew?”

“Isn’t the Xuanyuan Sword the Emperor’s blade? If a human wields the sword of the gods, no matter how high their cultivation, there must be a price.”

Here, the “Emperor” didn’t refer to the Son of Heaven. In Qing’s homeland terms, “Emperor” meant a god, not a human ruler. For a human to wield the power of a god—how could they not pay the cost?

Isn’t that a bit over-the-top for a gold-rank weapon? So Qing thought. But the idea that such flaws justified its gold-tier status never crossed her mind.

“Hoho, hahahah!”

Master Muak suddenly let out a hearty laugh.

In the end, she wasn’t asking for the pills for herself. One for her master, one for a friend. As if Great Restoration Pills were some kind of candy.

“Then what about another divine art? You know the efficacy of Reversal Muscle-Tendon Sutra, don’t you?”

“Ah... Actually... I already learned that.”

“What?!”

Even while sitting, Master Muak jumped a whole cheok into the air, then landed again. His eyebrows furrowed sharply as he sank into thought... and then he nodded.

“Since Tathagata’s Palm reached you, it’s not strange that Reversal Muscle-Tendon Sutra did too. Any other Shaolin arts you’ve learned?”

“Just those two.”

“Then—what about trading Tathagata’s Palm for another divine technique? If you’ve already learned Reversal Muscle-Tendon Sutra, you can handle it just fine. You’ve seen Hundred-Step Divine Fist—what about White Lotus Divine Fist, Great Force Diamond Palm, Ninefold Cloud Flow, or Shadowless Zen Steps? Is there any technique you’d like?”

“I’m a swordswoman. And for body techniques, I already have techniques that could be called supreme. You’ve seen me use Nimble Wave Step, haven’t you?”

“I thought so.”

Muak nodded.

“Amitabha. They say no fate in the world is truly coincidence—perhaps even your connection to Buddhist teachings is a destined one. Yet here I am, a so-called monk, still so far behind.”

Truly, he was ashamed.

How could a disciple of Buddha say such a thing as ‘humans cannot defy heaven’? The Buddha’s teaching, to sever worldly attachments and break free from reincarnation, was, in a way, a direct rebellion against the natural cycle of heaven.

All his life, he had gone against fate in pursuit of egoless completion. And now he’d dared to declare that a promising young person ‘couldn’t make it.’

She was someone who, despite holding a celestial calamity in her body, possessed deep virtue.

In the Sutta Nipata, one of the oldest Buddhist scriptures ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) from the Khuddaka Nikaya, Siddhartha had taught: Rely on non-possession, carry stillness in your heart, and subdue worldly suffering. Overcome desire and transcend the world’s torments.

And yes—Qing genuinely had little desire for elixirs or martial techniques. Elixirs, she didn’t need. Martial arts—she would learn what she needed, when she needed it.

But aside from that? She was an overflowing jar of bottomless desire.

If Master Muak had simply seen how Qing ate, or if the attendant had left only snacks on the tea table, he would have recognized that hideous gluttony for what it was, and in the form of snacks crushed beneath her teeth, he would have seen a vision of a world consumed by flames.

But there was no way Muak could have known that. He only felt embarrassed, ashamed, and sorry, while also feeling thankful and moved by the girl who so willingly offered to return what wasn’t hers.

“Hmph. Well then. Since you’re giving it back, how about writing out Tathagata’s Palm in a scroll?”

“Ah—writing it down? Honestly, I expected you’d just ask me to recite it.”

“You’d make an old man memorize more things? I plan to store it in Janggyeonggak, so write it out properly and neatly. In return, I’ll have your name inscribed as the transcriber—I hope you don’t mind.”

“...Yes, sir.”

Qing’s answer came a little deflated.

This brat... no, this damn girl—

Muak chuckled quietly to himself.

Truthfully, having one’s name engraved as the transcriber was no small matter. Every future Shaolin disciple who studied Tathagata’s Palm would offer the rites of one of the nine homage levels to her name. Surely even her master, upon hearing such terms, would just snort and not complain much.

And Muak wasn’t finished yet.

“It’s not the old man who should memorize things—it’s the young. Now listen closely, girl. I’ll recite the mnemonic once—memorize it well.”