Chapter 189 Dragon-Phoenix Assembly

A beauty appeared out of nowhere, immediately spewing insults.

It was truly a forecast of turbulence.

Qing decided to simply watch for the time being.

Right now, the newly appeared woman seems entirely like the villain, but there might be some history between the two that I don't know about.

Perhaps they were from rival families, or maybe bitter enemies nursing some unforgivable past grudge.

Or, it was possible I was just misinterpreting a snapshot, and they were actually really close friends who exchanged insults instead of greetings.

Why, some men, upon getting closer, found curses automatically rising to their lips just at the sight of each other, reveling in the camaraderie of mutual mockery between lousy fellows.

It wasn't just men; perhaps women, too, could forge deeper friendships by calling each other ‘bitch’ this and ‘wench’ that, sharing hearty curses.

And above all, this looked like it would be fun.

The situation was rapidly growing more interesting.

As the woman, who had made her entrance with personal attacks, strode confidently forward with dignified steps, women seated at three tables on one side greeted her warmly.

It was obvious they were her clique.

Qing scanned her surroundings, then pulled a plate of Sachima, a fried Central Plains snack, closer to her.

It'd be nice to have some corn puffed like snow, but they don’t have that in the Central Plains yet. Guess I'll eat something else while I watch.

Beside her, Jin Seol ground her teeth.

“That Sword Flower wench…!” Jin Seol muttered.

Then it occurred to Qing— Wait, Golden Sun Sword Flower Murong Juhui… isn't that the Murong brat’s older sister?

Qing unknowingly glanced towards the woman’s chest, then tilted her head.

Hmm? It’s not like there’s nothing there?

Though modest and simple, they definitely possessed a proper shape; it couldn’t be said they were entirely absent.

While Qing was entertaining such thoughts, Jin Seol spoke up, her tone laced with anger.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded.

“Oh, my! White Lily! Are you angry?” Murong Juhui replied sweetly. “Goodness, I already said I was sorry. People misjudge things, you know? Besides, clothes like that are usually worn by lowly women in brothels, vulgarly showing off their bodies. I just assumed. Really, I’m sorry.”

Her skill at delivering backhanded apologies while continuing the insult was extraordinary.

Reacting angrily now would only make Jin Seol seem petty; it was a tactic designed to provoke precisely that reaction.

Jin Seol, her ears flushed red, struggled to keep her voice steady as she responded.

“Yes, people can make mistakes. But it’s rather perplexing that you’re finding fault with perfectly decent clothing.”

“Decent? Ah! Right,” Murong Juhui mused. “Come to think of it, maybe it wasn’t the clothes. I saw some courtesans passing by just now, bare-chested down to the sternum, so perhaps that’s why I got confused. Ah, I really am sorry for the confusion. But anyone can see… no, never mind.”

Wow, she’s good at twisting things.

Qing crunched loudly on her snack—crunch, crunch—her heart pounding with anticipation.

So far, Lady Jin Seol is taking a unilateral beating! Can Lady Jin Seol turn this situation around?

It was then.

“But the person next to you, I haven’t seen…”

Suddenly, Murong Juhui’s gaze fell upon Qing.

Though Qing wore a veil, hers was a top-tier, super-premium item that allowed her to see outwards freely.

Qing met her gaze, but their eyes didn’t quite align because Murong Juhui’s focus was aimed slightly lower.

“Oh my, who is this?” Murong Juhui asked, her eyes scanning Qing. “Did all the energy meant for her head gather in her middle dantian instead? Or ah, perhaps she's hiding something inside? Ah, judging by her poor attire, Miss over there, you shouldn't secretly hide the banquet food in your bosom like that, you know? But really, who are you?”

The corners of Qing’s mouth stretched into a wide grin.

What’s this now? Why target me all of a sudden?

Of course, it was because Qing possessed a presence that even her martial uniform couldn't conceal—a colossal 'evil' the likes of which Murong Juhui had never encountered before.

However, Qing was unaware of that particular reason.

The jab about the middle dantian wasn't an issue.

Qing was already sufficiently 'gifted' in that department and possessed the magnanimity to dismiss such pathetic jealousy with mere pity.

But 'poor attire'?

Qing was wearing her Divine Maiden Sect uniform.

“Oh my,” Qing said sweetly. “What did you just say?”

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Murong Juhui replied, though her tone lacked sincerity. “I didn’t mean to offend, just wanted to offer some advice. Since you’re attending the Dragon-Phoenix Assembly, you should have at least dressed up properly. What on earth is that outfit? Who on earth invited such a beggar— ah, sorry. Such a woman? White Lily, was it you again?”

“How dare such a rude person…!”

Gongson Yoye started to rise, but Qing stretched out a hand to stop her.

Simultaneously, she grabbed Tang Nanah’s wrist and said quietly,

“I’m fine. She can’t afford to damage her reputation further here. And Nanah, put the poison bottle away.”

“But that crazy bitch…” Tang Nanah hissed.

“Enough,” Qing commanded softly, then smiled coldly at Murong Juhui.

“You there, Miss?” Qing called out. “Could you perhaps speak a little louder? I can’t hear you.”

“Oh my, are your earholes fat as well, not just your middle dantian?” Murong Juhui retorted. “Can’t you hear what I’m saying?”

“It's not that,” Qing replied smoothly. “Sound naturally comes from the chest, you see. When someone without a chest speaks, I simply can't hear them at all. Your lips keep moving, Miss, so it looks like you're saying something. Lady Jin Seol, can you hear her?”

Jin Seol snapped back to attention.

“No? I was just thinking how remarkably quiet it is.”

“See? Exactly,” Qing continued, looking at Murong Juhui with feigned concern. “Miss over there, are you perhaps sleepy? Why do you keep yawning like that, just moving your lips?”

“Hah? Do you even realize who you’re picking a fight with right now—” Murong Juhui began, stepping forward.

“Ah. Right,” Qing interrupted brightly. “I happened to be having an interesting conversation with Lady Jin just now. Would you all like to hear it too? I heard there was a number one market in Kaifeng, so I went to have a look.”

Qing continued playfully, addressing the room.

“And what do you know, they were selling these modest little pouches stuffed with cotton! So I asked what they were for, and—oh my god, wow, don’t be shocked—they said women with no chests use them inside their binders to deceive people. Lady Jin Seol, can you believe it?”

“Oh-oh-oh! Is that really true!?” Jin Seol gasped, playing along beautifully. “Unbelievable. I simply cannot believe it.”

“Right?” Qing agreed, looking aghast. “I was so surprised such an utterly useless item exists. Where would you even find a woman with no chest? I mean, if a woman has no chest, isn’t she basically the same as a eunuch who’s had his appendage cut off? Isn’t that right?”

Suddenly, killing intent rained down.

It wasn’t just from Murong Juhui; the women gathered around her, her entire clique, glared with eyes full of venom.

Ah, so that whole faction is generally a bit… low-altitude.

“You wench, just because you have an open mouth…” Murong Juhui snarled.

“Oh my, why are you yawning with such an angry expression?” Qing asked innocently. “By the way, Lady Jin Seol, who is that scary Eunuch glaring at me over there? Could you perhaps introduce us?”

Jin Seol hesitated for a moment. I need to respond well. Should I say I don't know her, or pretend not to know and introduce her anyway? But there was no time to hesitate; Jin Seol made a choice, thinking, ‘Ah, screw it.’

“Ah, that person isn’t a eunuch,” Jin Seol announced clearly. “She’s Lady Murong Juhui of the Murong Clan.”

“Golden Sun Sword Flower!” Qing exclaimed with feigned awe. “Ah, so you’re the famous Sword Flower from the Five Flowers of Murim. No wonder, I thought you had a body very advantageous for swordsmanship.”

“Advantageous for swordsmanship?” Murong Juhui asked, momentarily confused.

“Well, being so light and thin, you can certainly thrust a sword straight out without anything getting in the way,” Qing explained, demonstrating awkwardly. “Look at me, see? If I do this, like this, my chest gets in the way. Goodness gracious, being born like this, I'm naturally disadvantaged as a swordsman, you see.”

“Ah,” Jin Seol added dryly. “Your distress must truly be immense.”

“So when I see someone with a physique so perfectly suited for swordsmanship, as a fellow swordswoman myself, I’m truly not envious at all,” Qing continued earnestly. “Hmm. Yes. Even if it’s inconvenient, a woman should naturally have an ample bosom, after all.”

Qing fired off the words in rapid succession.

It was a vicious tongue that even Zhuge Ihyeon, the most intelligent of muscle-bound men, had failed to restrain gasps against.

Murong Juhui’s face turned beet red.

“Yah! You! Have you said enough!?” she shrieked.

“If you wish to speak to me, could you at least face me directly?” Qing asked politely. “Why are you talking with your back turned?”

“Hah? What? Are you blind too?” Murong Juhui snapped. “Who said I have my back turned?”

“Ah, you’re facing forward now?” Qing tilted her head. “It’s just so flat and without curves, I honestly thought I was looking at your back. But really, wouldn’t anyone naturally think that’s a rear view? How can a woman have such a plain figure like a man… ah, oh dear! I see now!”

Qing then bowed her head slightly.

“I’m truly sorry. I didn’t realize you were cross-dressing. You must have your reasons for pretending to be a woman. I can be a bit slow on the uptake sometimes. So, you’re a eunuch in disguise, is that right? I understand. I can call you Miss too, right?”

“Who— Who said I’m cross-dressing!” Murong Juhui sputtered.

“Alright, alright,” Qing soothed, holding up her hands. “You’re not cross-dressing. Got it. I absolutely haven't noticed a single thing, so you can completely relax and rest assured. My lips are as sealed as my chest is full. Only someone with no chest, light in both body and mind, would have lips loose enough to recklessly pick fights with anyone, mock them, and spout vulgarities about courtesans and whatnot.”

Jin Seol soothed her churning stomach with tea.

Wow, what is with this girl? Seriously, that tongue. If she had foolishly picked a fight and turned her into an enemy, she would have been utterly, completely annihilated. She almost felt sorry for the battered Sword Flower. Actually, no. Not sorry at all.

She was struggling immensely to suppress the smirk threatening to reveal itself, feeling exactly like she’d just downed a glass of iced fruit tea teeming with slush on a sweltering midsummer day.

“Y-y-you, you…!” Murong Juhui stammered, pointing a trembling finger.

“Hmm,” Qing mused thoughtfully. “Since you’ve gone to the trouble of cross-dressing, how about this? Maybe you could get a beehive, stick it to a bowl like this, and hold it to your chest? Wouldn’t the bee stings make it swell up a bit? Or, ahh. If bees are too much trouble, how about just slapping it really, really hard with your palms? You know how bruises make the flesh swell up, right? The color won't show if you cover it anyway.”

“Eek…!” Murong Juhui whimpered.

“Ah! Fake breasts!” Qing suddenly exclaimed as if struck by inspiration. “That merchant's item, that must be precisely what it's for! It wasn't for women to use, but for someone who needs to become a woman! They say everything in the world exists for a reason; truly, it wasn’t created in vain after all.”

Murong Juhui just sputtered, unable to form a reply, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Would you please not disregard my words lightly?” Qing continued, adopting a lecturing tone. “I heard that when Nüwa molded humans, there was initially no distinction between genders, so man and woman were the same. To differentiate them later, she gave men their appendage and women their breasts. Therefore, if you intend to mimic a woman, the size of the chest is a matter of utmost importance…”

“Yah! Shut your mouth! Just because it’s open!” Murong Juhui finally yelled.

“Oh my, are you suggesting mouths should be closed?” Qing countered immediately. “Isn’t it just as natural for a mouth to be open as it is for a woman’s chest to be rounded and full?”

“Stop saying chest, chest, with every other word!” Murong Juhui cried out, losing all composure. “As if anyone wants to be born like this… This is exactly why I can't stand big-chested wenches!”

“Hmm. Your chest being small— or rather, nonexistent— isn't your fault, Miss,” Qing said calmly, her voice dropping slightly. “But isn’t it your fault for envying others to the point where you go around biting at them? Did you even know who I was before you insulted my uniform?”

“Hmph, even so, it’s just some shabby uniform,” Murong Juhui spat defiantly.

“My name is Ximen Qing,” Qing declared, her voice ringing clearly, “and this is clothing personally made and bestowed upon her Named disciple by the Zenith Among Women, the esteemed Ximen Surin. By any chance, are there any Daoist kids in that Murong clique over there? What’s your seniority? You see an elder before you and won’t even offer proper greetings?”

At Qing’s words, there was a loud clatter as multiple chairs were knocked over simultaneously.

“San Hye of the Azure Mountain Sect greets Elder!”

“San Yeong of the Azure Mountain Sect greets Elder!”

“Mu Rin of the Mount Mao Shan Sect offers greetings!”

“Ma Yulan of the Star Moon Sect greets Elder!”

“Chang Yang of the Mount Heng Shan Sect offers greetings!”

“Good,” Qing said, her voice softening slightly but still firm. “Why are children of the Daoist path associating themselves with such a harsh child? How heartbroken would your sect elders be if they knew of this.”

“Ah, no Ma'am! It’s not like that!” one stammered.

“Alright, don’t stand around in such an embarrassing spot; go find somewhere else,” Qing waved them off dismissively. “I don’t remember faces very well, so if I don’t see you, I’ll quickly forget about it.”

“Yes! Thank you!”

The five hastily vacated their seats, hiding their faces as they practically fled downstairs.

And then, Qing crossed her arms, standing defiantly with a slight tilt, as if to silently ask, ‘Now what?’

For the record, Qing had never crossed her arms since entering the martial arts world. It was uncomfortable.

But she deliberately did so now, pushing upwards from below her sternum, emphasizing her form until her magnificent presence rivaled the imposing, rugged majesty of Mount Tai itself.