Chapter 178: Are You Acquainted With This Beggar?

Qing was astonished upon her first visit to Zhangwan city.

It was only natural that the male-to-female ratio would collapse now that the Jade Qilin had appeared.

Though the numbers have dwindled somewhat—

To think it had only somewhat dwindled even after that spectacle yesterday… where on earth did this obsession come from?

Besides, what’s going on? Why is everyone like that?

Qing tilted her head.

It was a bizarre sight that particularly stood out.

It seemed like two out of every three women wore shabby, time-worn, dirty clothing, their hair undone, looking like beggars.

Their clothing screamed beggar, yet their faces were powdered and their lips painted with thick makeup.

It was enough to make one wonder if a strange, end-of-the-century trend had finally arrived in the Central Plains.

This was the 'beggar trend' that had emerged because the Jade Qilin declared yesterday that dirty beggar wenches were his type.

In the Central Plains, trends were referred to with the suffix ~pung (風).

The common expression about a 'whirlwind' (dolpung) blowing through originated from this.

“Perfectly healthy people acting like beggars? Just to look good for some guy? Seriously.”

This was Qing's (the beggar's) harsh assessment.

Seeing this horde of non-beggar beggars, she felt she could almost understand Peng Daesan’s visceral aversion to women.

In truth, because of the era, even women acting like this were conveniently packaged as 'pure-hearted due to affection' or some such nonsense, which only made it more extreme.

Qing had only heard that the Peng Clan of Hebei had settled their affairs at the Zhangwan Daoist Temple, not where the Zhangwan Daoist Temple was.

But she didn't particularly need directions.

She simply followed the direction where the women claiming to be beggars – the beggar wannabes – were most numerous, stepping lightly, and soon found herself surrounded entirely by these female beggar wannabes.

Finally, one alleyway was completely filled with female beggars, circling in a large vortex as if cursed.

Amidst this beggar chaos stood a towering gate, bearing a sturdy, heavy-stroked plaque that read: Zhangwan Daoist Temple.

As Qing approached the main gate, hostile glares from the women shot towards her, skewering her.

However, Qing was already a Jade Qilin veteran.

She was used to this terrifying hostility.

If anything, she pushed out her chest, which was already sticking out like a runner caught in a false start, and squared her shoulders. Huh? Why… why does this feel good?

What’s with this pride? Shoo!

Qing was momentarily confused.

The gate guard of the Zhangwan Daoist Temple seemed equally confused. Seeing Qing standing before the gate, he just gaped like an idiot hoping a fly might wander in.

“……”

“Warrior?” Qing prompted.

“Ah! Does the young lady have business at the Zhangwan Daoist Temple? If you're visiting, please write your esteemed name in the guest register here, and I'll announce you inside.”

“I am Ximen Qing, an Outer Disciple of the Divine Maiden Sect. Wasn't word sent ahead?”

“Ah, you must be Miss Ximen! We heard you were visiting today!”

As Qing entered the Zhangwan Daoist Temple and walked on, she saw a familiar figure in the distance. Having never seen anyone else that tall in the Central Plains, it had to be Peng Choryeo.

“Well, if it isn’t Qing-ah!” Peng Choryeo exclaimed, approaching her. “My goodness, I saw a sudden dazzling light from afar, and it turned out to be you, Qing-ah. Such beneficial beauty! We heard you were coming today.”

“Miss Peng, have you been well?” Qing greeted.

“Oh my, you’ve become a perfect celestial maiden, haven’t you?” Peng Choryeo remarked, looking her over.

At that, Qing broke her beauty walking and flashed a mischievous grin.

“Hehe. Doesn’t suit me, right?”

“Not at all,” Peng Choryeo assured her. “Even as a fellow woman, I almost lost my senses. I thought you were the easy-going type like me, but perhaps not?”

“I am that type,” Qing admitted. “But my Master is strict.”

“Ah, the Matriarch! By the way, Qing-ah? Calling me Miss Peng? Are you planning to be so stiff and make this Miss Peng sad? There’s a word called ‘Unni,’ you know.”

“Uh. That feels really awkward,” Qing grimaced. “It doesn’t roll off the tongue.”

Unni was genuinely too much. She had called her Sworn Sister Unni just once because she looked so upset, but the moment the word left her lips, goosebumps prickled all over her body; there was a more fundamental, physiological fear.

Qing’s expression was more effective than a hundred words, so Peng Choryeo, reading (or rather, simply seeing) her reluctance, changed her tune.

“If it doesn’t roll off the tongue, just call me Choryeo by name. ‘Miss Peng’ is too formal between us. Come on, try it. Choryeo.”

“Yes, Choryeo. Understood.”

“By the way,” Choryeo asked, glancing at Qing’s waist, “where did you put the Dadao I gave you, carrying that thin, long blade instead?”

“Well, it was too heavy and big, so I left it behind,” Qing explained. “My Sworn Sister who’s supposed to attend me this time is frail, so I felt a bit bad leaving it with her.”

“The Dadao is great in every way, but it does have that minor problem,” Choryeo conceded with a smile.

Indeed, Peng Choryeo herself wore a thin saber at her waist, because the very minor problem of the Dadao’s portability was just too minor.

“Ah, Qing-ah, I heard the story,” Choryeo said sympathetically. “Phew, our good Qing-ah has suffered so much.”

“What, San totally spilled the beans, didn’t he?” Qing asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, what could I do when he asked me for help?” Choryeo shrugged.

Peng Choryeo added an explanation. Apparently bothered by the rumors, Peng Choryeo suggested that she would pretend to be the Flower Beggar today and walk around with her brother, inviting Qing to join them.

“Father doesn’t know, so please pretend you don’t either,” Choryeo cautioned. “He’s a bit angry with that brother of mine, but give it a few days, and he’ll act like nothing happened. Oh, but… then, were you two together yesterday?” Peng Choryeo’s eyes gleamed.

Looks like Choryeo misunderstood the relationship between San and me.

Qing chuckled softly and replied.

“Choryeo, San and I are just friends. In the first place, if I had any feelings like that, would San have just stood by? He would have lowered his voice and kicked me out, saying ‘Get lost.’ It’s because we’re purely friends that I remain San’s only female friend.”

“Hmm.”

“So, I was thinking…” Qing leaned in conspiratorially, “how about throwing San a party to celebrate him losing his virginity? Don’t you think his face would totally sour?”

Seeing the eyes sparkling with a pure desire to tease, Peng Choryeo muttered.

“Ha, this kid. He’s in for a rough ride…”

“Well, I won’t tease him that much…” Qing protested lightly.

“No. You’re this pretty. That stupid idiot,” Choryeo sighed, then brightened. “As for that party… it might be possible if we were at the Clan estate, but it’s a bit much in someone else’s house. Come visit the Peng Clan next year. Let’s have a grand first-anniversary celebration to tease him properly. How about it?”

“Hmm. Since a day has already passed anyway, looking forward to next year sounds fine.”

“Right? It’s a promise, okay? You must come!” Choryeo insisted. “It’s April 21st, so come a week before—yes, give yourself plenty of time and arrive by April 15th.”

“Okay, Choryeo. April 15th.”

Peng Choryeo very skillfully secured the promise.

Oblivious to the fact that she had fallen into a scheme, Qing nodded happily.

Afterward, she went to pay respects to the Peng Clan Lord, Peng Xian— Hmm? Is that right? Shouldn't the Zhangwan Daoist Temple Head come first?

As Qing got confused, Peng Choryeo clarified that since she came as a guest of the Peng Clan, paying respects to the Peng Clan Lord first was the proper order.

The Daoist Gentleman, Peng Xian, was an exceptionally hearty person.

“Little Lass! Yes, welcome!” he boomed. “I’ve heard so much about you from our little sparrow[^T/N Remember, her name was 'little sparrow', but she ironicly grew up to be a huge person] here. It’s truly wonderful to see your face!”

“Father,” Peng Choryeo interjected with mild exasperation, “how old do you think I am, still calling me a sparrow? Especially in front of a guest.”

“Haha! In your father’s eyes, you’ll always be as petite and cute as a tree sparrow—no, cuter than a tree sparrow. Isn’t that nice!” Peng Xian chuckled heartily.

Qing was confused.

Is that ‘tree sparrow’ the same tree sparrow I know?

Are the tree sparrows of the Central Plains eagle-sized birds of prey?

Qing, unaware of Peng Choryeo’s palm-sized childhood, couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps that tree sparrow was a different kind of tree sparrow.

“Sigh,” Peng Xian continued, his tone shifting slightly, “my son caused trouble, making me lose face in front of the little lass. He usually doesn’t listen, but I really don’t know what goes on in that head of his. A young man always looking so sulky.”

“Ah. I think I understand that,” Qing commiserated. “Oh, if I may ask, do you have a pet name you call San?” Her eyes sparkled, hoping to gather more teasing material.

But it was a misfire.

“San! That’s good!” Peng Xian approved. “But the rascal has to have some cute aspect to earn a pet name. All he knows how to do is twitch his eyebrows when you say something. Tsk.”

“Hehe. I understand what you mean,” Qing replied smoothly.

“The little lass is truly full of grace,” Peng Xian observed approvingly. “Our family ways are free-spirited, so it’s rare, but seeing you like this… yes, it’s good! Good!”

Exactly what was continuously so good, she didn't know, but she understood that she was being welcomed wholeheartedly.

After that, she had a brief, pleasant chat with the Head of the Zhangwan Daoist Temple before immediately preparing for the walk.

Peng Choryeo stuffed linen cloth into her chest, tying it down to create a large shape, and then put on a veil.

Qing could only think, Was I really that imposing? But Peng Daesan nodded with deep satisfaction.

“What is it, San. Was I… that statuesque?” Qing asked, eyeing Choryeo’s disguise.

“My sister is about an inch taller,” Peng Daesan explained. “But since you’ll be walking around standing up, if the chest is large, the silhouette naturally flows downwards, right? Sister, could you hunch your shoulders just a bit? Hmm, it’s perfect.”

Indeed, once she hunched her imposing shoulders, she looked almost identical to the Flower Beggar.

It was only natural, given that the defining features were the veil, height, and chest.

“We’ll walk around a couple of times, then separate, and my sister will leave the city,” Daesan continued, outlining the plan. “Then these nasty rumors should end. We need a lot of onlookers to follow us, though.”

“Huh? San. You haven’t been outside, have you?” Qing asked. “The whole city is absolutely crawling with beggars. Women dressed as beggars to catch your eye have formed ranks.”

“…?” Peng Daesan looked bewildered. “They didn’t leave and are still here after seeing that spectacle yesterday? Just how much more disgraceful behavior do I need to show to make them lose interest?”

It was natural for Peng Daesan to be shocked.

Having nothing else to say, Qing simply offered consolation.

“Hang in there,” Qing offered. “I didn’t know they’d be this tenacious.”

“Damn it. I’m going crazy,” he muttered.

Then Qing snapped her middle finger with a click.

“In that case,” Qing suggested with a sly grin, “let’s just see how far they follow, like a dog chasing its tail.”

The moment the three stepped out of the Zhangwan Daoist Temple, regretful gasps erupted simultaneously.

The Jade Qilin emerged flanked by women on his left and right.

One was the peerless beauty who had entered about a shichen ago, but she walked at a distance. The one actually clinging tightly, linking arms affectionately, and radiating a lover’s vibe was yesterday’s female beggar.

While there was relief that the peerless beauty seemed to have been rejected, what in the world was with that beggar wench?

The sound of teeth grinding – adeudeuk badeudeuk – followed the sighs, a noise so grating it made one’s own teeth ache just hearing it.

And then, weren't they flauntingly strolling through the city, stuck close together?

Women whose eyes turned sharp as axe blades followed them like a resentful, angry mob.

It was when they had completed about one lap.

“Young Master Peng! How—how could you do this! How…”

A woman blocked their path, unleashing a torrent of resentment with eyes brimming with tears.

But her beauty was extraordinary.

With striking eyes, nose, and lips packed into a fist-sized face, it was astonishing how she managed to be such a beauty.

Tall and slender, her trembling figure with tear-filled eyes presented the image of a fragile, sorrowful beauty.

“Miss Murong,” Peng Daesan said, his voice mimicking the Jade Qilin’s cool tone. “You speak as if I have caused you some inconvenience. We are merely lovers strolling together, would you please step aside?”

Qing instinctively scanned Miss Murong’s chest.

What, isn't there quite a presence?

Junnie said he only had one older sister.

With that level of beauty, she seems to fit the Five Flowers of Murim.

“N-no! I can’t!” the woman cried. “How can you walk with women on both sides, leaving me behind! It’s too much! What exactly do I lack!”

“I worry others might misunderstand,” Peng Daesan replied coolly. “It’s not as if Miss Murong and I had any particular connection, is it?”

“How—how can you say such a thing…!” she sputtered. “I’d rather it be the beautiful lady beside you, but how could you choose that dirty beggar wench—she’s even a hideous girl!”

“Hey, watch it,” Peng Choryeo muttered under her breath, still in character as the beggar. “No matter what, pointing fingers and talking trash right to someone’s face… I didn’t expect this from her.”

Unaware that her reputation was rapidly plummeting in the eyes of Peng Choryeo, everyone’s ‘Unni’, Murong Juhui threw a tantrum.

At that moment, Qing cleared her throat pointedly, Ahem, ahem, and Peng Daesan, whose voice had been gradually lowering in pitch, flashed his eyes.

“Hmm.” Peng Daesan tapped his chin thoughtfully, playing the part. “Thinking about it, Miss Murong might have a point. I like the dirtiness, but she’s just lankily tall. Aside from the night’s activities, there’s nothing about her that truly satisfies me. Hah!”

With that, Peng Daesan flung off Peng Choryeo’s arm. Giving her all in a heartfelt performance, Peng Choryeo cried out and tumbled pitifully to the ground with a thud.

“Y-Young Master?” Peng Choryeo cried out, stumbling back as if struck. “How could you—didn’t you promise to cherish me forever?”

“Know your place,” Peng Daesan scoffed. “Did you truly think a lowly wench like you could set foot in the great Peng Clan of Hebei?”

“How could you… me…” Peng Choryeo sobbed dramatically, looking up from the ground. “Now that you’ve had your fun, you don’t need me anymore? After playing with my body like a beast last night, how could you.”

“Isn’t that just how men are?” Peng Daesan sneered. “On second thought, if I fancy the beggar look, I can just dress up a pretty girl. There’s no reason to associate with a real beggar wench, is there? Besides, with that hideous face of yours—thanks to you, I even skipped breakfast—cover that disgusting face and get lost.”

“Fine! That’s it! Understood!” Peng Choryeo declared defiantly, scrambling to her feet. “This measly sleeve—here! I’ve torn it all off!”

She spun around, grabbed her own shoulder, and ripped the sleeve with a tearing sound, revealing her imposing arm muscles, each section clearly defined.

“You said sleeveless clothes were pretty, but I was too shy to comply!” she continued, flexing the revealed arm. “But for Young Master, I’d do anything—”

“Ha! Half the people in the world are women; what difference would it make if the likes of you dressed up?” Peng Daesan cut her off dismissively. “Enough, get lost. Quickly.”

At that, Peng Choryeo put on a spectacular wailing performance, shot up, and ran off.

The women in her path were hit by her solidly muscled shoulder check and sent flying, nearly tumbling through the air.

It was the Flower Beggar’s exit, like a cavalry charge.