760 - I Am This Murim’s Crazy B*tch

Qing sat crouched on the bedding, her feet flat against the mattress, resting her chin on her hands as she stared expressionlessly into the empty void. Her face adorned with a stubborn pout, an unwavering beauty radiated from her. But her expression, devoid of emotions, seemed either bored or perhaps hollow, with a mineral-like emptiness. Resting her chin caused her mismatched eyes to reflect a blue square that others could not see. Though she was no longer afflicted by seizures when viewing the status window, a peculiar discontentment still weighed heavily on her spirit. What does true bloodline mean? And what about this imposter princess? This was the screen she had long avoided, dismissing it from her thoughts. If there were a volunteer trying to soothe a senile elder by mimicking their deceased child, anyone would laud it as a heartwarming tale. An uplifting story, indeed, anyone would call it that. But if that elderly person was the matron of a great conglomerate and intended to bequeath her wealth to the volunteer? Would it still be seen as a heartwarming tale then? And before that, Can it truly be considered right to impersonate a lost loved one and comfort the bereaved, even if done with good intentions? And if I, this body, were indeed claimed to belong to the princess Yeonsul, According to Her Majesty, Princess Yeonsul was one already deceased, and back home, one would describe it as being in a state of brain death. It’s not unheard of for someone in a state of brain death to miraculously regain consciousness. Even if it’s a minuscule chance, it wasn’t entirely impossible. Not in the past. But now, it can never be. Because I am here. With Qing's perspective. Princess Yeonsul's death—could it possibly be blamed on the body-snatcher? She indulges in an old habit from her homeland after quite some time, yet her mood does not improve. Unrelated to baseball audiences, this scenario indisputably involves my responsibility, does it not? No longer does she harbor suspicions that the status window might be manipulating her perception, but then, what exactly constitutes an imposter princess? Could those demonic beings from the Tianzhu be saying, “Oh my, the resurrection failed?” and appointing a decoy? Or perhaps through some sorcery, the soul itself—since chi can flow, spirits, apparitions, and flying phenomena are not beyond belief—could the existence of a soul be denied? If they brought back the real Yeonsul's soul and placed it in a new body, then? How would the status window assess that? Nevertheless, it may still be false. Because true bloodline, you see. After all, I possess this body carrying the emperor's esteemed lineage, do I not? Nonetheless, pondering over it leads to no resolution. At that moment, “My lady, are you hungry? Shall I bring your dinner?” “Ah.” The voice of the virtuous Madam Dukseong, who had skillfully intervened, was both refreshing and reassuring. “Yes, please do.” “Yes, my lady.” And then, knock, knock, knock, knock! Layers of doors sequentially opened left and right, as maidservants struggled to enter with a huge dinner table. The aroma of the food filled the air, overwhelming her senses. Left alone, not to mention how hungry I was, is it any wonder I ended up peering at the ignored status window out of agitation? Grgrrr! In response, her stomach growled loudly. While the maidservants were startled, Madam Dukseong’s eyes became moist with emotion. Yes, this sound! How could I have forgotten? Whenever meal times were missed, the princess would exclaim as if shaking the heavens! If Qing had overheard that sentiment, she might have questioned what kind of princess that was, how such a princess ever existed. For now, however, she was intensely hungry. After all, Qing was someone who needed to eat at least four meals a day. Of course, that doesn't mean she eats only four times. Qing can practically eat all day long. Four meals at the minimum: originally it was three, but due to the miraculous skill she mastered from Sagamon's Heart Resolution, which notably increased her meal quantity, she now needed four full meals. Qing swallowed hard, her mouth watering. Captured by thoughts she didn’t wish to entertain, Qing found her mind filled—thoughts are like rebellious dust clouds; trying not to think of them only makes them fill your mind more persistently. To dispel them, one must forcibly redirect their focus elsewhere. And for Qing, there was no more effective diversion than a meal. Thus began a hearty meal. Having declared she would serve at the meal, the Madam Dukseong remained, though completely entranced by the sight of the gluttonous indulgence before her. Indeed, rather than being mesmerized, she was pulled into a profound sense of nostalgia, or perhaps, an effusion of sentimentality bound to the past. Oh, Princess! Yes, this is exactly how my princess should eat! Bolder and more vigorous than before! This is what makes you my princess, my Yeonsul! Madam Dukseong’s eyes brimmed with affection. Her gaze was as sweet as if it were dripping with honey. Though Qing would eat just about anything without fuss, her top priority was clearly spicy, sweet, and salty meat, followed by sweet and salty meat. Among vegetables, she preferred those that were crunchy and water-rich, lightly blanched, whereas she rarely consumed harder food and less enjoyed soft textures (though she didn’t dislike them). And most notably, those cheeks! Like a squirrel that fills its cheeks with seeds, she delighted in stuffing her cheeks full and chewing with relish—an utterly charming sight. Upon finding delicious food, as she ate, Qing couldn’t help but feel her spirits rise, causing her lips to curve upwards and her eyes to sparkle charmingly. Engrossed in her feast, Qing suddenly came back to her senses. So hungry that I briefly lost my mind it seems. Qing discreetly checked her surroundings, laying down the rib she was holding with her left hand. “Ahem.” The mannerism befitting Seomun Surin’s beauty, an elegant dining grace. Picking grains of rice by the count, ideally about forty grains, rotating her wrist grandiosely to bring them to her mouth, whereupon chewing delicately—ensuring her jaw moved neither too broadly up and down nor ever from side to side... It was a flawless display of dining etiquette for a beauty. However, having already revealed herself, feigning now was rather futile. And then it was Madam Dukseong’s turn. “My lady, please, have the meat here. Now, then.” “Oh, I can manage just fine.” “Here, open wide. Ah.” The dish was a type of ancient Korean meatball, where the meat was finely chopped, blended with starch, and then skewered and grilled—a primitive galbi patty of sorts. As Qing looked at Madam Dukseong, who was perched next to her offering the skewer, an overwhelming sense of déjà vu washed over her. Could it be? Is this Madam an undercover guise for Her Majesty the Empress? The impatience to feed her was identical, as was the tendency to ignore what others say. Wouldn’t conversing between those two entail each simply spewing their own topic without listening? Either way, Qing was always weak to kindness. Qing opened her mouth to receive the offering, like a baby bird awaiting its parent's beak. Hmm, it feels awkward. Yet, hmm, quite delicious... Thus, Qing continued to consume her meal, one bite at a time. Even though no words were exchanged, placing a cherished rib stew piece as the final morsel on her plate could only be described as an astonishing foresight. One might call it remarkable skill. “My lady, shall I serve another table set?” “Oh, I’m feeling quite full by now. A full spread may be too much; how about some fruit or snacks instead...” It wasn’t that she couldn’t eat more, just that she was starting to feel full. Not the inability to eat more, but rather that a full spread seemed excessive, so requesting fruit or snacks seemed reasonable. All this after having already filled herself to overflowing, yet here she was considering further indulgence. However, Madam Dukseong responded with a highly pleased expression. “Well, My lady. According to palace etiquette, the servants eat only after their masters have finished. Although the servants shouldn't presume to feel such emotions, one cannot control human regret, can they? I was planning to prepare another spread to share among the servants. Would that be agreeable?” “Ah.” The leftovers from Qing’s meal were for the maidservants of the palace annex. In practice, the greatest joy of palace maidservants came from scattering leftover high-quality meals. Should Qing eat everything cleanly, the maidservants would have to choke down cold rice with soy sauce, tears mixed in. Thus, proposing another spread and sharing would improve morale, wouldn’t it? This realization caused Qing’s expression to stiffen. Until now, she had cleared her plates completely......? No wonder the maidservants had looked so glum while cleaning up post-meal. Oh, the regret they'd feel for the lost food! By these means, A rare warm atmosphere breezed through the palace kitchen. Though they dared not make any noise, the ecstatic silently danced in delight around the nearly untouched evening banquet spread. And then it happened. “What are you rowdy folks doing without regard for shame? Hmph.” The tan-skinned Tianzhu woman, Gabiyah, appeared, giving them a scolding. As a personal attendant to Qing, Gabiyah held several ranks above the palace maids who were yet to be assigned to a master. Then, quick as lightning, she gathered the precious dishes onto her plate and withdrew, feigning indifference. The remaining maidservants bid her farewell with a gesture, extending the thumb between index and middle finger in her direction as she left. The origins of this hand gesture remain unknown, but surprisingly it bears the same connotation in nearly all cultures. Perhaps a miracle born of the universal subconscious, a mutual understanding that sometimes things are indeed just absurd. Meanwhile, back at the palace annex, a scene reminiscent of another unfolded. Qing lay there, her head resting on Madam Dukseong’s lap. “But My lady, be wary of that woman, the sorceress of Tianzhu.” “You mean Gabiyah?” With a clench of her jaw, Madam Dukseong gritted her teeth. Ah. Frightening. “Yes, that wench. I’ve yet to discern her motives for approaching you, but surely she’s scheming some sinister plot. How on Earth she secured her position to serve you, I do not know, but she must have employed some malevolent Tianzhu sorcery to do so. Just which ill-bred woman connived to tag that witch onto you? If it were up to me…” Clenching and grinding. At this, Qing cautiously raised her hand. “Well, I chose her. I was a bit curious to explore some exotic sights…” “That wretched woman must have schemed to lure our innocent lady, exploiting your natural curiosity for such novelties.” Madam Dukseong smoothly pivoted her argument. Instead of pressing further, Qing hesitantly raised a question she had been curious about. “But your majesty, the empress, also mentioned it. What’s this talk about the sorceress of Tianzhu?” “They’re women claiming to be nuns from the Tianzhu’s Temple of the Celestial Maiden(天女寺). But they have taken up residence and built a temple in the Eastern Territory Palace, not directly serving anyone. How they were ever granted permission to establish such a dubious temple within the Forbidden City is beyond me.” For the record, Madam Dukseong had her own shrine obtained from the Temple of the Celestial Maiden, where she offered prayers morning and night. Indeed, even this very morning before meeting Qing, wasn't she offering prayers? The Temple of the Celestial Maiden was renowned for being the miraculous nuns who once saved Princess Yeonsul’s life. And as of now? How dare they deceive me…! Madam Dukseong was unrivaled in erasing inconvenient memories. Regardless, for the benefit of the memory-lost Princess Yeonsul, Madam Dukseong shared her knowledge. The princess had fallen gravely ill low enough for even the deities to turn their heads, her life hanging by a thread, burgeoning on the brink of if-world scenarios. During that time, women who claimed to be nuns from the Temple of the Celestial Maiden had come to the palace, offering to heal the princess. And when the unconscious princess was carried out by the nuns, did she not miraculously walk back in upon return? Thus, when His Majesty inquired what reward they sought, the leader Asiya replied: Our sect was persecuted out of Tianzhu, driven into the lands of Zhongyuan, but lacking a safe haven here as well. However, knowing that within this world exists the most secure palace that none can dare encroach upon, we humbly beseech refuge within the Forbidden Realm of Zhongyuan. If accepted, we vow to repay the benevolence until our last breath, adhering to the palace’s creeds as maidens of the Forbidden City. In response, His Majesty granted a plaque for a hall in the Eastern Territory Palace, and bestowed the position of priestess upon Asiya, the leader of these sorceresses. Upholding their promise to serve as maidens within the Forbidden City (not that they had any other choice), conspiracy undoubtedly brewed as they spread like poison mushrooms throughout the Forbidden City. The latter part of the account was heavily tinged with prejudice. Nevertheless, that was the gist of it. Asiya, known as Ashara in Tianzhu, was considered the leader of the Tianzhu sorceresses. And she was potentially the person who could resolve the quandary that Qing pondered over during her meal. [Bloodline Mission – Roots] [You have encountered your true bloodline.] Expel the false princess and reclaim the legitimate ruler’s seat. Here, the term "legitimate ruler" referred to the title of princess, not as though implying she should ascend to a throne. Qing understood this well, not seeking a grand plan to curry favor, but simply wanting to grasp the series of events unfolding around her. And if there was a person connected to that... It was then. Just as speaking of the tiger brings it near, or mentioning Cao Cao makes him appear—just as discussing spirits beckons them—a timely voice called out. “My lady…” A timid voice timidly snuck in past the door. “The, uh, Madam Dukseong, is she perhaps inside...?” Was Madam Dukseong that intimidating? Well, she was a bit terrifying. “Looks like Madam had something urgent to attend to.” “Oh, I see! My lady, might the Celestial Maiden enter?” “Sure.” “Hehe, my lady.” As the door opened, Gabiyah swayed in with her usual deadly elegance, hips subtly swinging side to side. At that moment, she noticed Qing's gaze fixed above her head, following it with her eyes before asking with a hint of confusion. “My lady?” Qing waved her hand dismissively as she replied. “Oh. There was a fly. Don’t mind it.”