Chapter 106: The Villainess Eats Malatang

Chengdu, the heart of Sichuan Province.

Though most famous as the ancient capital of the Shu Kingdom, it had been a thriving center of the Sichuan region long before that.

Nestled within a vast basin encircled by mountains, Chengdu boasted the most fertile lands and proximity to stunning natural scenery—truly a location blessed by the heavens.

Within Chengdu, the western district, Chongzhou County, flourished along the banks of the Min River [^Major river in central Sichuan].

With its gentle, slow-moving currents, the Min River was the perfect spot for floating picturesque lantern-lit boats.

Naturally, any town developing along such a scenic waterway becomes a magnet for pleasure-seeking tourists, densely packed with lively taverns, elegant teahouses, vibrant red-and-blue brothels, and noisy gambling dens.

Imagine a tourist arriving in Chengdu.

Day one: Subject yourself to the notoriously numbing-and-spicy Sichuan cuisine, weep through the initial onslaught of tears and snot, only to emerge strangely refreshed, finally understanding the addictive joy of true mala [^Mala: Sichuan flavor profile combining numbing (má) peppercorns and spicy (là) chili heat.].

Expect to pay the price later that night, though.

Day two: A mandatory visit to Mount Qingcheng [^Famous Daoist mountain near Chengdu].

The front mountain housed the renowned Qingcheng Sect.

The back mountain, praised as one of the most serene landscapes in the world, offered gently rolling hills and lush, diverse vegetation.

If you were really lucky, you might even spot a Giant Panda! [Lit. "giant bear-cat" (it's a bear, not a cat).]

If Qing ever saw one of these adorable creatures, she'd undoubtedly lose her mind screaming,

Wow, a Panda! You know Pandas! OMG!

Days three and four: Take in the sights—Dujiangyan [^Ancient irrigation system], Wuhou Shrine [^(Memorial temple for Zhuge Liang)], Wenshu Monastery [^(Buddhist monastery in Chengdu)], and so on. After that? You might find yourself wondering what else there is to do.

That’s when you head to Chongzhou County.

Float a boat on the Min River, get drunk, hit the gambling dens—live it up, wild and unrestrained.

And just when that starts to get a little old, inevitably, a shady-looking man would sidle up to you.

“Hey, Big Brother. Looks like you know how to have a good time.

Interested in seeing something… really exciting?”

Half curious, half suspicious, you follow the man. Down a flight of stairs leading underground, through a long, echoing corridor, until you emerge into a vast subterranean plaza dominated by a huge central stage.

Welcome to the Underground Life-and-Death Arena — Chengdu’s infamous, open secret. Everyone who knows, knows about it.

They called gambling on cockfights ‘touji’.

Gambling on human fights? That was ‘tougi’. And this place, where brutal life-or-death duels happened daily, was the absolute pinnacle of combat gambling.

Tonight, the Underground Arena was electric.

The bluestone floor was slick with fresh blood, littered with visceral human debris—a testament to the preceding heat.

The host, a smooth-talker named Maedamja, expertly worked the crowd.

“Finally! Tonight, our reigning challenger issues his final challenge—against one of the legendary Four Heavenly Kings! For ten grueling days straight, he’s cut down a Peak Realm fighter each and every day! Hailing all the way from Hainan—let’s give a thunderous welcome to our challenger!”

An iron gate beneath one of the cave openings ground open.

A man strode out confidently, footsteps echoing.

“The Ghostly Left-Handed Sword! The Sword Demon from Hainan! The Tael Yaksha [^Tael: ancient Chinese unit of currency/weight (~37g or 1.3 oz). Yaksha: fierce supernatural beings from Buddhist and Hindu myth.], Yik Taikong!”

The crowd roared its approval.

Maedamja then bellowed, his voice straining as if his throat might burst,

“And which great champion among our Four Heavenly Kings has answered this bold challenge?! Appearing now!”

From the opposite side, another iron gate opened.

A figure emerged, completely wrapped in concealing garments from head to toe.

Only narrow eye slits were visible, and even those were obscured by a dark veil.

The figure was remarkably tall for a woman, and she dragged behind her an enormous dadao [^Large, heavy single-edged Chinese sword], a blade so massive most stout men couldn’t wield it effectively.

“Answering the call, ranked third among the Underground Arena’s Four Heavenly Kings—the great champion, Female Xiang Ji! [^Lit. "Female Xiang Yu"—Xiang Yu was a legendary warlord known for strength and tragic downfall] The mysterious woman whose face no one has ever seen! The reincarnation of the peerless warrior Xiang Yu in human form! Give it up for—Fe-male! Xiang! Jiiiiii!”

“----!!!”

An explosion of sound erupted from the crowd, far louder than before.

It was less cheering, more like collective, frenzied hysteria.

In stark contrast to her imposing entrance, ‘Female Xiang Ji’ responded with an almost flippant wave, raising her hands high and waggling them at the roaring audience.

If anyone I knew saw this, they’d definitely ask why I bothered covering up at all.

Finally, the two fighters stood facing each other on the blood-slick, debris-strewn stage.

“Female Xiang Ji?” Yik Taikong sneered. “What a ridiculous name for a woman.”

It was the standard opening salvo of trash talk common before death matches.

However, when it came to verbal combat, Qing had already surpassed the Natural Realm and ascended; she was practically qualified to trade barbs with Immortals.

‘Female Xiang Ji’s’ sharp tongue was already infamous among the arena regulars.

She was also known for being brutally dismissive of opponents she deemed unworthy.

“Eh,” Qing’s muffled voice drawled from behind the mask, sizing him up instantly. “Looks like nothing special… Let’s just get this over with quickly.”

She gave a dismissive little wiggle of her fingers.

Yik Taikong’s eyebrow twitched visibly.

“Ha. Very well. ‘Female Xiang Ji,’ you call yourself. Let’s see just how mighty your strength truly is, to warrant such an arrogant na—”

His words died in his throat.

Whoosh! WHOOOOSH!

The terrifying sound of something incredibly heavy slicing through the air filled the arena.

The dadao—five chi long [^(Approx. 1.67 meters/5.5 feet)] with a blade width of one chi [^(Approx. 33 cm/1 foot)]—likely weighed upwards of twenty catties [^(Approx. 12 kg/26.5 lbs)]. It was a monstrous weapon.

Yet Qing wielded it one-handed, swinging it as effortlessly as if it were a mere tree branch. The sound alone was enough to make strong men’s knees buckle.

The faint of heart would have collapsed already.

Forget martial skill levels—this was simply not something a normal human should be physically capable of doing.

“Y-Your strength… it certainly lives up to the name Female Xiang Ji,” Yik Taikong stammered, his bravado evaporating. “H-However, martial arts exist precisely to overcome such physical disparities! A true martial artist like myself will demonstrate through skill—”

He trailed off again, eyes wide with disbelief.

Blade Energy (Dao Qi) began to coalesce around the massive sword.

Wait, is that just Blade Energy?

Or is the entire goddamn Yellow River flowing out of that blade?!

Qing’s raw quantity of Internal Energy was indeed at the very upper echelons of the Unrestrained Realm.

However, lacking the necessary enlightenment, she couldn’t compress it efficiently into a refined Energy Aura. Her only option was brute force—unleashing her massive reserves with crude, overwhelming output.

The result was a thick, almost tangible blade of pure Internal Energy extending a full chi beyond the edge of her sword.

Seeing this, Yik Taikong dropped all pretense and shouted, his voice filled with newfound humility:

“A frog in a well! [^Chinese idiom meaning “a frog at the bottom of a well,” i.e., someone with a limited worldview.)] Today, this humble Yik has realized the depths of my own ignorance! It is said that a wise man knows when to retreat upon recognizing his shortcomings! Therefore, would you graciously permit this lowly one to withdraw from this match?!”

The audience instantly erupted in a furious cacophony of curses, jeers, and thrown refuse.

Chik Balsung, the vice leader of the Underground Life-and-Death Arena, watched the proceedings with a deeply sour expression.

Understandably so—what should have been the night’s main event, the biggest draw, had just ended in an embarrassing, anticlimactic forfeit.

“You didn’t kill him today, huh?” he remarked dryly as Qing came off the stage.

Qing, however, bristled.

“Hey! Excuse me, Mr. Chik! Anyone hearing you would think I’m some bloodthirsty demonic killer who slaughters people daily! I happen to be a very kind person, thank you very much. I’m a righteous heroine of the Orthodox Faction, you know?”

“…?” Chik Balsung just blinked. You always claim that, but…

He knew the arena’s crowds.

They craved violence. The more cruel and vicious the fighter, the more fervent their adoration.

And ‘Female Xiang Ji’ was, without a doubt, the arena’s reigning superstar.

When Female Xiang Ji fought, the betting wasn’t even about winning or losing anymore—she was undefeated.

Instead, the odds were laid on gruesome props: How many pieces will the opponent be chopped into today? How many exchanges will they survive before being dismembered?

Female Xiang Ji was confirmed to be in the Late Stage Peak Realm, so technically, putting her in Peak Realm matches was correct.

But her skill was clearly leagues above her supposed peers. Standard win/loss betting was pointless and boring.

Thus, the alternative betting market was born, and it was highly profitable.

Except on days like today, when, for inscrutable reasons, she occasionally let her opponent walk away untouched. The customer complaints were already pouring in.

“Anyway, this kind of thing is problematic,” Chik Balsung sighed, getting back to business. “We’re trying to run a business here, not a charity. So, here’s the deal: from next time, you’re moving up. Transcendent Realm matches only.”

“What?” Qing protested immediately. “I’m Peak Realm! Why the hell should I fight Transcendent Realm guys? Forget it, I’ll just quit.”

Chik Balsung started rubbing his palms together placatingly.

“Now, now, don’t be like that. Look, we’ll find someone who just broke through to the Transcendent Realm. A newbie. Give it a shot! With your ridiculous innate strength and that monster weapon, you can definitely take someone at that level.”

“Hmm. You think so?”

Qing mused, gently stroking the chin area of her mask.

Her realm hadn't increased lately. Maybe fighting these Peak Realm weaklings wasn't cutting it anymore. Maybe she did need to fight opponents at the Transcendent Realm or higher.

The main hurdle when fighting Transcendent masters was supposedly their Sword Force—an advanced projection supposedly impossible to block with mere Sword Energy.

But… she had managed to block Gramps’s Energy Aura a few times back in the tomb. It seemed her lack of refined enlightenment could, to some extent, be compensated for by sheer, overwhelming brute force output of Internal Energy.

Of course, the energy efficiency was absolute garbage.

If projecting a proper Aura cost, say, 10 units of Internal Energy, crudely blasting out enough raw energy to block it probably cost 50 or 60 units.

That massive disparity was why the gap between the Peak and Transcendent Realms was considered such a critical bottleneck.

Plus, Transcendent masters generally had vastly larger reserves of Internal Energy.

Unless you were mainlining elixirs like candy or had some other special cheat code like Qing, most Peak Realm cultivators had roughly similar energy capacities.

However… Qing’s physical strength was now well beyond human limits thanks to the Overhaul Rebirth.

No matter how skilled someone was in Internal Energy cultivation, could they truly ignore such a colossal difference in raw physical power and weight?

“Alright, fine,” Qing conceded. “Next match, pit me against someone who just entered the Transcendent Realm. Let’s see what happens.”

“Excellent! Good thinking.” Chik Balsung visibly relaxed. “Here, take today’s prize money.”

He tossed over a pouch that, even at a glance, looked satisfyingly heavy.

When Qing had first arrived in Sichuan, she’d had a plan.

First, stop in Chengdu, check if Ximen Hee was safe. Then, temporarily leave Choi Leeong somewhere secure and make a trip to the Emei Sect to deliver her master’s letter.

Simple enough. Except Seol Ganom had supposedly left a message for her at the fifth largest brothel in the city, and after searching every single damn brothel in Chengdu, she’d found nothing.

When she’d explained the situation to Choi Leeong, he’d just clicked his tongue.

'Based on your timeline, didn't you leave the cult before them and set out first? Then you practically teleported here straight from the Heavenly Demon Tomb. No matter how fast they traveled, there's no way they could already be in Chengdu.'

He was right.

Qing had beaten them here.

But she couldn’t just leave for Emei now.

Choi Leeong was currently far too vulnerable.

He was in the painstaking process of dispersing sixty years of accumulated Internal Arts and replacing it with a new Internal Energy Cultivation Technique.

So, she was stuck in Chengdu.

Completely unavoidable, she told herself firmly.

Definitely not because the Sichuan food is ridiculously good and I’m thoroughly enjoying being lazy. It’s really, truly, only because I have to look after Gramps.

Problem was, Chengdu was expensive as hell.

Tourist traps always gouged outsiders, and in the Central Plains, ripping off non-locals was practically enshrined as common sense.

Merchants did it as a matter of course, and even the victims mostly just accepted it.

When Qing had raged about being overcharged, Choi Leeong had just given her a blank look and asked what the big deal was.

So, she had no money, no source of income, and was seriously wondering how she could possibly sustain her desired lifestyle of comfortable indolence.

That’s when she’d discovered the Underground Life-and-Death Arena.

And that had been over a month and a half ago.

When Qing returned to their lodging, Choi Leeong clicked his tongue again.

“Tsk. Back from selling your sword at that vulgar place again, were you?”

From his perspective, her fighting in a shady underground arena was obviously distasteful.

Qing frowned sharply.

Who the hell do you think I’m putting myself through this meat grinder every night FOR, old man?

Of course, she wasn't just doing it for the money. Since most of the fighters were genuine villains and scumbags, she earned a decent amount of good Karma Points for beating them down, plus valuable Practice Points.

The satisfaction of killing terrible people, combined with the roar of the crowd… honestly, job satisfaction was through the roof.

Still. No matter how fun or beneficial, work was still work.

“They say there’s no such thing as a high or low profession, you know,” Qing retorted defensively.

“…?” Choi Leeong looked genuinely baffled. “What nonsense is that? How can there be no distinction between noble and base professions?”

“Ah. Right.” Qing mentally facepalmed. “My bad, forgot where I was.”

This was primitive, uncivilized ancient China, after all.

A world where the hierarchy of professions was clearly defined and rigidly enforced.

“Anyway, Gramps, hurry up, let’s go! Didn’t I tell you to be ready? I said we were leaving as soon as I got back!”

“We can leave as we are. But… is eating really that important to you?” Choi asked, looking bewildered by her urgency.

“What? Are you kidding? It’s the Ultimate Malatang! [^(Malatang: A popular Sichuan street food; a customizable spicy soup/hot pot, often with numbing Sichuan peppercorns.)] Ultimate! How can anyone possibly resist the Ultimate?!”

That’s right.

Today was the day. The day Qing had secured a coveted reservation.

The dish you absolutely had to eat when visiting Chengdu.

The dish often listed as something you must try before you die.

The dish so legendary, people claimed it was worth crossing the entire Central Plains just for one bowl.

The Ultimate Malatang, crafted by the legendary Bai Changzi, hailed as the Greatest Chef Under Heaven, was waiting!

T/N Sorry for ALL the Footnotes haha!!