Chapter 153: The Road to Kaifeng

If one had to impose for a day, a familiar face was better than none.

Besides, during her last visit, the Daijing Sect Leader's snack selection had been quite impressive.

So, Qing was just about to make her choice.

“Since this is my first journey through the martial arts world, I’d like to experience as much as possible. Staying at an inn is one of those experiences.”

Tang Nanah conveyed her refusal indirectly.

At least, that's how Qing heard it.

For reference, her use of "제가" (formal 'I') instead of "소녀가" (humble 'this girl') elevated her status slightly while also being a rather stiff choice of words.

Though couched indirectly, it was also a firm stance indicating she wouldn't entertain counterarguments.

“Ah. Then it can’t be helped. In that case, may we at least treat you to a meal…?”

“My travel funds are plentiful, so I don’t need to impose on you.”

“Is that so…”

Wang Sonseok and the other martial officials who had come to meet them slumped their shoulders, thinking, Such aloofness, truly befitting one of the Five Flowers of Murim.

Qing didn’t see the need for such fuss, but since she wasn’t traveling alone, she had to accommodate her companions.

After watching Tang Nanah until the end, they left the men—who seemed to think staring hard enough would make the carriage transparent—and found an inn.

“But, why? Wouldn’t it have been nice to stay for a day?”

“Oh, come on. Is anything in this world free? Everyone’s heading to the martial arts conference anyway. It would be annoying if they subtly asked to join us, wouldn’t it?”

“You think?”

“Lady Tang, how could that possibly happen? With three esteemed ladies traveling together, what man would dare ask to accompany you?”

Inviting oneself to join a group of women traveling alone was, in fact, an unofficial breach of etiquette.

Need one elaborate?

Transcending eras, it was the kind of ploy guaranteed to earn one scorn as that bastard obsessed with women.

“Huh?”

At that, Qing looked at Zhuge Ihyeon.

Her gaze clearly asked, Didn't someone ask to join us?

“Ah. Forgive me, Sister, you are unfamiliar with the ways of the Central Plains. Am I not a Zhuge?”

His choice of words, avoiding calling her ignorant, spoke volumes about Zhuge Ihyeon’s character.

His answer held multiple meanings simultaneously.

The positive interpretation was that the Zhuge Clan’s aesthetic standards were well-known, so even if they suggested traveling together, it wouldn't be seen as a crass advance.

Another meaning was that someone from the Zhuge Clan had no need to resort to such methods to make advances.

Furthermore, traveling with a Daoist elder, the elder's sworn sister, and Tang Nanah, the cherished jewel of the Tang Clan—the picture of the Zhuge Clan joining this group felt entirely natural. This was simply how the uppermost echelons of the Central Plains interacted.

“Then wouldn’t it be hard for them to ask us to travel together even if we had stayed overnight? Was there really a need to be so wary?”

“My goodness, Sister. You must understand the danger your beauty poses. Even if they asked to accompany us, we wouldn’t have a strong reason to refuse. If they were willing to endure the shame, what would stop them from uttering such words?”

Tang Nanah then added a word.

“That’s right. Qing-ah, you need to realize how pretty you are.”

“Hmm. I’m not that pretty.”

In any case, it was around early evening.

People of the Central Plains typically ate simple breakfasts and lunches, but indulged in lavish dinners.

Though the vast majority of the population, the peasants, wouldn't agree—peasants were generally considered somewhere between humans and livestock, not counted as proper Central Plains folk.

Qing, of course, ate heartily three times a day, but she treated dinner with the most solemnity.

This was because many dishes, made in large batches for sale, were only available for order in the evening.

There was also the advantage that if she received acupuncture before bed, the paralysis usually wore off by midday, meaning she could feed herself dinner.

Having two people feed her felt a bit frustrating, as they tended to wait until she had completely swallowed before offering the next bite.

So, after dinner, they strolled around Nanyang Lake to aid digestion, then she got her needles and went to sleep.

It wasn't a diary entry, so she didn't write it down anywhere, but it was reasonably fun.

Then came the bath, lying down for acupuncture, and finally drifting off to sleep in the best room, leaning against the sworn-sister-claimant—a typical day.

She felt sorry for having repeatedly refused Gyeon Pohee’s requests to share a room earlier due to her ignorance of Central Plains culture, so nowadays they shared a bed every night.

While at the Zhuge Clan residence, she had asked Zhuge Ihyeon just in case she had misunderstood, and the answer she received had been quite firm.

The past, roughly a week ago.

Zhuge Ihyeon, the greatest intellect among muscleheads, had said:

“For sworn sisters, isn’t sharing a bed, covering yourselves with one blanket, and embracing each other as you sleep a beautiful tale of camaraderie?”

“A beautiful tale?”

“Indeed. In the past, did not the three heroes Liu Xuande, Guan Yunchang, and Zhang Yide also share one bed, embracing each other and sharing warmth, leading the world to praise them as the most brotherly of men?”

What meaning could there be in sharing a bed only to sleep far apart?

True camaraderie was forged in truly difficult times, huddled together on a tiny, cheap cot, under a cheap blanket that offered no warmth, relying on each other’s body heat to endure the cold.

“Huh? Those three?”

“Thus, when Liu Xuande welcomed Zhao Zilong into his bed, Zhao Zilong was moved to tears and served him with lifelong loyalty. Even in the diary of my ancestor, Zhuge Liang, the deep emotion he felt when General Liu first invited him to sleep together was recorded.”

It was a case of Liu Bei politically utilizing co-sleeping.

“Uh. Um. Right.”

That’s… quite something.

Is this the reality of the Romance of the Three Kingdoms?

It must be because this is a different world, right?

It wasn't like this back home, surely?

“In contrast, that fellow named Cao Zhi refused to share a bed even with his cousin. Liu Xuande, by comparison, deliberately invited his subordinates to his bed to establish his reputation for benevolence and righteousness throughout the land, though it does paint a certain picture.”

“Your word choice is a bit strange.”

Of course, it purely, utterly meant nothing untoward, just literally sleeping close together in the same bed.

Still, from a modern perspective…

Ugh, Blech.

“There’s even a saying that if Cao Zhi had shared a bed with Sima Yi even once, the master of the world would not have changed.”

“Cao Cao fell because he didn’t sleep with Sima Yi?”

Hm? Did Cao Cao fall?

Didn’t Hua Tuo crack his head open, leading to his death?

Her knowledge of the Three Kingdoms, gleaned mostly from comics, was precisely at this level.

Qing knew the names of the famous figures, but her understanding was practically revisionist history.

“An elder who has shared a bed with one’s father is almost like an adoptive father. How could one dare to mock or tease him?”

Cao Cao might have been slightly unfairly judged here; his family was fundamentally wealthy, so they never faced hardship or poverty severe enough to necessitate huddling together in one bed.

This contrasted with Liu Bei, who continued to sleep together with his sworn brothers whenever the three gathered, even after establishing himself in Shu.

However, considering Liu Bei was married, it became difficult for the three brothers to gather after he settled down, and all three lived and died by the bottle, often drinking in their rooms until they passed out and went straight to bed.

Qing herself recalled numerous times during her university days when her entire department would go out drinking en masse, ending up neatly packed like sardines into motel rooms for collective sleep.

Still, Ihyeon had only said that sharing a blanket and hugging while sleeping was a beautiful tale of camaraderie.

This implied that no one actually did it.

Commonplace actions aren't praised as beautiful tales.

Despite this, Zhuge Ihyeon had specifically emphasized it in his explanation.

It wasn't to prank Qing.

It was merely a slight misunderstanding.

Rather, Zhuge Ihyeon had interpreted Qing's query through the lens of her kind heart wanting to bolster her sworn sister's standing, and he was impressed.

‘This girl is my sworn sister, not my servant, so don’t you dare treat her carelessly.’

Therefore, Zhuge Ihyeon had politely and indirectly expressed that he now understood and would treat her properly as an elder sister, so she could stop asserting the point.

However, the expression was too high-level for Qing to grasp, so she simply took it literally, thinking, So this is a cultural difference.

There was also the shock of learning Liu Xuande's true nature.

The reality was that the big-eared fellow, whose only truly close friends in the world were his two sworn brothers, was a shady character who feigned being a virtuous sage through politically motivated, wholehearted acting.

Of course, compared to the Cao family—who suffered from a hereditary inability to feel guilt due to a genetic disorder, resulting in impaired social development—Mr. Liu, who at least tried to act like a good person despite his inner darkness, was arguably much better.

Moreover, the Cao family's lack of guilt and empathy was hereditary.

Sima Yi, who cut off that lineage, could truly be called the realm's true righteous hero.

Furthermore, his achievement of shattering the Chinese nation into the Sixteen Kingdoms!

Truly, he was a saint who earned eternal blessings and happiness beside the highest throne in heaven.

And back to the present.

After a restful night in Xinyang, Qing's party resumed their journey north towards Kaifeng.

Passing through small towns and villages, the inevitable finally happened.

“Ah.”

Tang Nanah, having gained some proficiency, was adjusting the angle this way and that while inserting the needle.

However, this was one of the taboos of acupuncture.

“Are you going to keep making ominous noises every time you stick a needle in?”

“My long needle…”

Precisely because it was the perfect way to snap a needle like this.

This was why needles had to be inserted perpendicular to the affected area, gently tapping them in without force.

But she had crudely gripped the needle like a fist and jammed it in while wiggling it around—how could a thin, long needle possibly withstand such treatment?

Tang Nanah looked crestfallen.

Not only had a long-used, cherished tool broken, but the needles Tang Nanah used weren't ordinary ones.

They were masterpieces among masterpieces, hailed by a renowned needle craftsman as the pride of his lifetime's work.

The very fact that it had endured Tang Nanah's brutish acupuncture technique—plunging it in with her full body weight—until now proved it was a world-class item.

As Tang Nanah stared blankly at the broken long needle, Qing felt a pang of guilt. Knowing it wasn't the right time, she nevertheless had a question that needed asking.

“That… where’s the remaining part?”

“Huh? Uh… huh?”

She had a knack for making people nervous with just one syllable.

“You can get it out, right?”

“Well, if you move your arm like this, like this, it should naturally come out—”

“My arm won’t move.”

“Well. Dad will be in Kaifeng too, so maybe Dad can…”

“What did you say?”

“Uh, can’t we think positively? Since your arm has no strength at all, your injury should heal completely in a week…”

“…”

Thus, after this very minor incident—according to the medical opinion of Tang Nanah, an authority in traditional medicine—which resulted in Qing’s arm being completely paralyzed, the party arrived at a large city.

Its name was Zhumadian.

“Zhumadian occupies land that was once called Runan. Present-day Runan was separated into Runan County to the east, during the reign of Emperor Taizong of Tang…”

An unsolicited explanation automatically poured out.

Of course, since no one in the party was actually listening, the words scattered emptily into the air.

Still, Qing found it fascinating how his words always seemed to burst forth like that.

Is there some kind of book that just collects that sort of information?

How does he manage to know it all so fluently?

Naturally, she had a knack for picking out the interesting stories from the stream.

For example, the fact that the name Zhumadian was derived from Yang Guifei, renowned as one of the Four Great Beauties of the Central Plains and also as the most wicked woman under heaven.

Yang Guifei’s favorite fruit was the lychee, which unfortunately grew in Southeast Asia.

This city was where the rapid transport relay system used to deliver the fruit paused for a rest, hence Zhumadian—"Halting Horse Station."

It wasn't really something to laugh off.

It was said that one of the causes of the Tang Dynasty's decline was the exorbitant cost of the lychee transport operation designed to bring the fruit fresh for Yang Guifei.

For reference, lychee was called lìzhī in Chinese, and in Qing’s homeland history, Westerners took the lychee and, due to pronunciation limitations, named it ‘litchi’.

It was the same litchi often found piled high as dessert in cheap all-you-can-eat buffets.

However, its origin was Southeast Asia, so it originally had a different name.

But no one in the world, past or future, not a single soul, ever wondered about the original name of a Southeast Asian fruit.

And so, that name remained unknown.

Hearing the interesting explanation, Qing thought.

Ah. Litchi. Litchi is delicious too. I want some litchi.

However, since Qing was not Yang Guifei, no one procured them for her just because she wanted some.

Instead, there was one girl pestering her about something else.

“Qing-ah, let’s go look for needles.”

“We haven’t even unpacked yet…”

“We have to go before sunset! Needle smiths close up their workshops and go home when it gets dark…”

They hadn’t even secured lodging at an inn or unpacked their bags, yet Tang Nanah was already nagging her to go look for a new long needle.

She added that if they were lucky, a needle craftsman might have iron tongs capable of pulling out the piece stuck in Qing’s shoulder.