Chapter 137: Tang Clan's Paper Flower

Then, Ximen Qing added with a grin.

“Including that Grand Prince Dexian fellow, I mean.”

At that, Jayu’s expression twisted ambiguously. His mouth worked silently as if lost for words, before finally settling into a self-mocking sneer.

“Did I not tell you? That man only ever cared for his own safety. It’s not like he looked after the people out of any particular affection, so why…”

“How should I know? When word got out that the Grand Prince died, people were practically collapsing in the streets, wailing and making a huge fuss. If they’re sobbing like that for someone they don’t even know the face of, wasn’t he a truly great person?”

“But that doesn’t mean he was benevolent.”

“Whatever. At least, that’s what I think, and what those people crying on the street think. If that’s the case, he should act like a man, puff out his chest proudly, and boast about how many people he fed.”

“Hmph.”

Jayu pressed his lips shut, apparently deep in thought.

Tsk, this guy, getting all shy.

Of course, even if no one cried or praised him, Qing knew just by looking. Wasn't Jayu one of the best people Qing had ever met? Granted, among the virtuous, the overwhelmingly superior Qing stood out, making the difference between them like the sun and the moon. Still, compared to the rest of the 'good guys' who were merely at the level of fireflies, even being the moon was a significant achievement.

Qing now had a rough understanding of the criteria by which the karma of good and evil, visible to her eyes, was judged.

Inflicting harm upon people accumulated Bad Karma, turning one into an evil person harmful to the world.

Only upon people.

Once turned to the side of Bad Karma and becoming an evil person, they were treated not as human, but as pests. Killing them or breaking their spirit was considered beneficial to the world, a structure where one could acquire Good Karma for doing so.

However, this thing called karma didn't consider individual circumstances, intentions, or innate nature. Even with benevolent intentions, if the result pushed numerous lives into suffering, one became the world's greatest villain. Conversely, even with the most wicked intentions, if one made a virtuous person live and laugh, karma would stamp a 'Well Done!' seal of approval.

It was a merciless brand that judged solely based on results.

But that didn't mean Qing herself had to be merciless.

If someone simply liked her, she might cut them some slack, like with Grandfather or the Alleged Senior Sister. Or, she could pursue personal enjoyment through delightful dissection practice, just like with any other villain.

If asked by whose authority? Well.

Isn't cleaning up trash a good deed, no matter who does it?

Just because you don’t clean up the trash littering the streets, does that make it a bad thing? If someone scolds you, saying, "You pick up waste paper but not plastic, you rotten bastard?" you just laugh and tell them to pick it up themselves.

The worst kind of bastard is the one who bitches about how it's better not to pick up trash at all than to do a half-assed job.

It wasn't like Qing had the job title of 'Villain Redeemer'. She had no strict obligation to cut down every single evil person. Even that irritating Mission Window merely presented missions asking which side she would take. It wasn't forcing her to eliminate the bad guys.

At that moment, Qing's well-flowing thoughts went off on a tangent.

Hmm. It would actually be easier if they just forced me.

Wouldn't I then know why I was dropped into this world?

Not knowing the intention makes me feel like I'll die from anxiety.

This was Qing's fundamental fear.

Qing still didn't know how to hold back when faced with food. It wasn't a matter of gluttony. She simply couldn't endure it.

She still remembered when she first fell into the martial arts world. She remembered how horrific starvation was. She knew that when a person becomes desperately hungry, they eventually swallow even insects and rotten food scraps. The memory of forcing down filth, things a modern person would find repulsive even to touch, shoving it into her mouth while fighting back waves of nausea, sobbing as she ate—that time remained vividly etched in her mind like an indelible brand.

Therefore, her stomach must always be full.

Because if she became endlessly hungry again, the closer she got to that tearing pain beyond hunger, the more vividly the memories returned, and she was too afraid of them.

It was a dramatic experience: a life she had been reasonably content and comfortable with had, without reason, instantly plummeted into the abyss, transforming her into a state worse than a worm crawling in the gutter.

If something happened once, it wouldn't be strange for it to happen a second time.

How terrifying an unguaranteed existence is.

What if suddenly lightning strikes because 'Hey, why aren't you doing as you're told?' and the genre changes to something like a 'Permanent Hell Experience DLC'?

Just then, a warm sensation spread upwards.

"Friend? What's wrong? Friend!"

Pulled back by the voice calling her, Qing quickly came to her senses.

"Ah. Huh? Ah. Gasp."

Only then did Qing realize she hadn't been breathing. Even after finally forcing air into her protesting lungs, she couldn't control the trembling. Her legs immediately gave out, her knees buckling with a throbbing weakness.

Qing scowled, forcibly shaking off the foul mood.

What the—why isn't the Great Tranquil Zen Art doing its job? Wasn't it supposed to prevent this kind of thing? Why ask such things and make a person feel like crap?

Once her feelings were hurt, the words that came out of her mouth were exceedingly sharp.

“What do I care about the Emperor or whatever? From what I can see, he’s a total scumbag anyway. If he’s the Emperor, he should think about ruling properly, not babbling about the martial arts world this or the heavens that. Isn’t it all just about filling his own belly anyway?”

"...I wasn't asking you to say something quite so disrespectful."

"What Son of Heaven, bullshit. If the heavens sent him down, they'd have sent him to do good deeds, right? Not to sit up high and boast 'Throughout heaven and earth, I alone am the honored one,' showing off how great he is? Tell him to fall into the fires of hell when he dies. Good people should be blessed, and only the bad guys should be punished."

In reality, she was talking to herself.

Good people should be blessed.

‘Only’ the bad guys should be punished.

To Jayu, it seemed like a sudden explosion, like a volatile Fire Bomb. In the highly developed psycho-sociological terminology of that other world, it was also called flying off the handle.

Jayu’s expression hardened. To someone who didn’t know Qing’s inner thoughts, this is how it sounded: that she harbored a deep grudge against the Emperor due to some scheme he had subjected her to. Hadn't she said she had no parents? For such a bold girl to instantly become terrified, pale, trembling, and unable to even breathe, surely it must be related to that.

Besides, her hand. Her hand. Her hand.

"Are, are you alright?"

"Fine. No. I'm not alright. I feel like throwing up."

"Is that so? Then you may hold on a little longer until you feel calm."

"Ah!"

Without realizing it, Qing had been tightly gripping Jayu’s hand. Startled, Qing snatched her hand away. Jayu withdrew his empty hand with a somewhat disappointed expression, quickly rubbing it with his other hand. It seemed necessary, as if it would bruise quickly otherwise. Qing's grip had been unusually strong.

Feeling awkward in the uncomfortable atmosphere, Qing 괜히 blamed someone else.

This is all because of that Alleged Senior Sister.

When I had that fit back then, her embrace was so warm and comfortable. And ever since, the moment I look even slightly anxious, she notices right away and hugs me tight... so now, whenever I feel even a little unwell, I start seeking human warmth.

Picking up bad habits.

Before, I would just throw a fit by myself and get over it.

Still, when I'm anxious, having someone beside me really is the best.

One of the side effects of the White Hand Demonic Arts was that her hands were always cold, radiating a chilling air. One of the advantages was that because her hands were always cold, she always felt warmth when touching others.

As Qing felt the lingering warmth leave her remaining hand, she regretted its departure, then realized there was no need to.

Don't I have something like a family too?

"If you have nothing more to say, may I be excused? I'm not feeling well."

"Yes. I expect I will be busy as well." Jayu said, looking somehow relieved.

"Hey. Um... Qing-ah, hey."

"Huh? What?"

"Nothing. Just wondering why you're like that."

The question was why she was suddenly clinging to someone else's embrace when she had perfectly good legs.

"This is what Grandfather used to do. Turns out, if your legs hurt, you just don't stand on them."

It was like saying if you're hungry, just eat.

Tang Nanah tilted her head. But people don't feed you just because you're hungry, do they?

However, since Choi Leeong nodded as if it were perfectly natural, she could only assume that's just how things were over there.

"I couldn't sleep, so I'm sleepy now. Grandfather, wake me if anything happens."

"Alright. One should sleep at night. Go on and sleep now."

Then, Qing managed to find a leaning position, rested her head squarely against him, and closed her eyes.

Like some seven-year-old child. Is it really okay for a grown girl to act like that?

Tang Nanah, bewildered, kept tilting her head left and right.

The Grand Clan Lord watched this scene, half envious, and then, upon reflection, admitted the other half was also just envy. Then, thinking 'perhaps,' he sidled up to Tang Nanah and asked.

"Are you sleepy too, child? Shall this old man hold you?"

"Hmph, who do you think is a child?"

"A child? Look at your friend. Don't they say beauties are sleepyheads?"

"...Still, it's embarrassing."

That was only natural. It was a feat only possible for someone with a face as thick as Qing's. At this, Choi Leeong somehow puffed up his chest, looking triumphant and smug.

"My Lord Tang."

"Yes, Your Highness. Please speak."

"I have given it some thought. If you intend to have the Grand Prince as your backer, release the medical texts."

Release the medical texts. It meant releasing the medical knowledge researched by the Tang Clan to the martial arts world.

"Your Highness, however, that is—"

Medical knowledge was also a strategic resource. If outstanding medical skill could save even the severely injured and return them to the ranks, how could it not be considered a resource?

"It need not be done in my name. It benefits the world, so praise for your clan will surely resonate throughout the land. Why do you hesitate?"

"But, Your Highness."

"Saltpeter mines and secret gunpowder brewing. Not only that, haven't you also been researching Thunder Bombs separately? From now on, you may do it openly. How about it?"

His words meant they should stop doing it secretly and instead make them openly under the Grand Prince's name. While it granted absolution, in reality, making them openly meant ownership would also go to the Grand Prince. It was a threat: hand over the medical knowledge and hand over the fire bombs too.

But if they didn't like it, they shouldn't have engaged in activities bordering on treason in the first place.

"...We will release them."

"Don't think too poorly of it. I may not know much about medicine, but who knows what might happen? Perhaps the Tang Clan will come to be called the greatest physicians under heaven."

At that, Tang Touzhong's expression eased slightly. To go from being called 'vicious bastards who thrive on poison' to the 'clan of life-saving physicians with the greatest medical skills under heaven' wasn't entirely unpleasant. Besides, how could someone of the Clan Lord's stature not understand the reason for these demands now? Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to take this opportunity to crush not just the Five Great Families, but even the Nine Great Sects, One Union, and become the leader of the Orthodox Murim.

"Are you planning to mobilize troops?"

"Everyone seemed tired from last night's terrible events. It will all be sorted out before sunrise, so just focus on figuring out how to rebuild your scattered family assets."

With that, he leaned back against the hastily prepared throne, indicating it was time to leave.

After Tang Touzhong left, a shadow detached itself from a corner of the underground space and sauntered over.

"Your Highness. How about this? As a future means of reconciliation between the government and the martial arts world, there's nothing quite like a marriage—"

"Quiet, Guza. How can a mere Grand Prince, tucked away in a mountain corner, speak so grandly of the government?"

Since the land of Sichuan was surrounded by naturally blessed mountain peaks, calling it a mountain corner wasn't entirely wrong. Except, that corner produced abundant goods and resources capable of feeding half the Central Plains with plenty left over.

The young man, Yangshang Guza, grinned and replied.

"Indeed. Bringing up wedding gifts that haven't even been prepared... Ow! Why did you hit me? It doesn't even hurt, you know."

"Your mouth runs away with you. Enough. Go now and tell them the time has come. It seems they couldn't rely on my elder brother's mercy to survive after all."

"Elder Gyeon must be working very hard. He'll have to be diligent to achieve his wish. No, I told you hitting me is useless. Kicking me won't work either, Your Highness."