775 - I Am This Murim’s Crazy B*tch

The Empress has been incredibly happy lately. Having once lost her child, every moment is even more precious, so much so that the passing of time feels bittersweet and regretful. But recently, there's been a peculiar occurrence where the attending maidservants tremble at the mere eye contact with her. Aren't subordinates naturally supposed to fear their superiors? Even now, as she enjoys the luxury of her daughter's tiny hands providing a massage (though those hands are quite large for fern-like hands, yet to a mother, a child remains eternally small)— However, the level of the massage is questionable. Is this the result of learning massage rather than martial arts? Why does it feel this way? Nonetheless, apart from the notably cool sensation, her daughter's hands are as skilled as those of any seasoned maidservant, and being a hot day, she finds this quite pleasant. A mother receiving a massage from her child, naturally, would find it all delightful. “It’s wonderful, truly wonderful.” The Empress, as her now grown daughter kneads her shoulders, finds comfort in those hands; tears well up in her eyes from warmth. At the same time, a certain resolution begins to form within her. She needs to send her child back out into the world, into that heartless Jianghu where fierce tempests rage. Though she could keep her safe, wrapped within her skirts, is that truly what the child desires? Since young, her daughter was an unusually energetic little one, running across the whole Forbidden City. Curious about the world beyond the palace, she pestered the palace servants tirelessly for stories from outside, even though the servants themselves knew little beyond the Forbidden City. By Qing’s hometown standards, it was akin to trainees at a military boot camp asking their instructors about life in regular units. Those instructors, only having heard second-hand stories, knew nothing concrete. Regardless, the princess was always curious about the outside world. Now, as her grown daughter massages her shoulders, she shares tales of adventures beneath wide skies, traveling all across the world. “I even traveled to Qinghai. There, I encountered this strange monk—his nickname was Mad Monk, truly an odd monk. They painted the walls white, though it wasn’t even a hot region. Weird, right? You see, in hotter areas, they'd paint walls white to keep them cool…” Though the story is rambling and lacks context, her adventurous spirit is evident. From the deserts of the Great Northwest to the southernmost Yangguang, from eastern Shandong Peninsula to the west in Qinghai, she’s traveled all over. In just a few years, she had traversed all of Zhongyuan, and though she may have lost her memories, perhaps the stifling palace life had always been a burden on her heart. How could— “Oh, and I have a daughter now.” “Yes, yes, you have a daughter. Hmm? What?!” The Empress jumped from her seat. What kind of statement is that? Suddenly, a daughter? “Her name is Jiayu. She’s kind and well-behaved. Though her eyes seem a bit worn, they're adorable in their own way. She smiles like a normal child, so it’s reassuring.” “What in the world are you talking about?” “Her eyes? I guess it can’t be helped, given a young age—” “No, no, before that, a daughter? Who on earth is her father?” “Oh, well. Let’s see. Jiayu’s father, let me think… right, here, Zhangming, Moyong, Chunbong…” Qing, on her fingers, began counting one by one. The daughter she had not seen in a while, claiming to have a daughter herself. When asked about the child’s father, she rattled off unfamiliar names, counting on her fingers, as if trying to recall who might be the father. The Empress felt faint, as strength drained from her body. No, no matter how casual relationships between men and women might have become outside, how could my precious daughter—oh, my! “Ah, I misspoke. Not father, but mother, I’m her father—oh dear, Mama? Are you alright?” “You insolent child! Jo Sang-gung, fetch me the rod, the rod…!” Silence. Jo Sang-gung seemed to have fainted already. In truth, the Empress's current strength was thanks to the precious tonics Qing had been providing. As Qing would say in her homeland, "This is precisely the situation they meant by ‘give the disease and sell the cure’," which in Zhongyuan, was expressed as “strike with a slap and embrace three times.” In any case, the misunderstanding was quickly resolved. “So you mean she’s your adopted daughter?” “Yes.” “You silly girl, to take in a child without a wedding. More importantly, what’s this nonsense about adopting a child?” “Hehe, knowing my shortcomings, I’ve been trying to create a motherly presence, and I just wanted to take responsibility. No one else could.” Before Qing took her in, Jiayu was nothing more than an evil tool used in the Blood Cult’s formations. Even if Shaolin were simply a sect focused on martial arts of pseudo-Buddhism, it was declared by eminent Monk Great Martial Master that eternal repentance in the Chamber of Remorse was necessary. But it’s not just about fulfilling a duty. Initially, the expressionless girl who clung tightly, reluctant to leave now laughs freely and comes to her embrace openly. If she grows further, adolescence awaits, possibly making her a rebellious daughter. But surely, not our Jiayu, right…? Seeing the uneasy Qing, the Empress had a sudden realization. To make a mother so obviously fretful as she introduced her child—what a heartless thing to do. As cherished as her own child was, wouldn’t Qing think similarly of her own daughter? “Well. It would be nice to see her face. I haven’t even seen my granddaughter’s face yet. Let’s plan to see each other when next there’s a ceremony at the Divine Maiden Sect.” Though Jiayu, this girl, wasn’t entirely satisfactory in the Empress’s eyes yet. Yet, the love of grandparents is a deep-seated instinct; once she sees Jiayu in person, the Empress wonders if she’ll still find her lacking... ...is nonsense. To have given birth to a child at such a tender age when life should just be blossoming—how exactly would her matrimonial prospects unfold? Even the mother mentioned her child's dirty gaze, so it must be that the girl indeed has a rather insolent expression. Surely, she’s a small child who looks at you with such bold eyes, and when a little one like her already acts with such defiance, it must be adorable, like a feisty baby foal accidently growing horns... No, no. How could this thoughtless child recklessly take in another and call her a granddaughter, making me a grandmother. A grandmother. Yes, a grandmother. And a granddaughter. My granddaughter. As Qing left, the Empress lay in bed, her heart pounding wildly with anticipation. Indeed, Yeon Sul, that ridiculous girl, is surely a filial daughter. Though the idea of her calling herself a father is utterly bizarre, does that even matter when there’s a granddaughter involved? A granddaughter, something I never imagined. The Crown Prince has no interest in women, nor has there been any thought given to bringing in a consort, so the prospect of a Crown Prince is distant. Princesses, once married, often leave far behind, vanishing into distant lands, the wild ends of the barbarian world, where one might only see them once or twice again in a lifetime. So, a granddaughter? That wretched Yeon Sul, how dare she not say a word to her mother? Had I known, I would have certainly gone to pay my respects, no matter what it took, just to see her face. Unable to sleep due to the mounting urge to see her granddaughter’s face, the Empress rose the next morning with an especially weary, sallow appearance and headed leisurely to her Cold Palace duties. This was part of her royal responsibilities as the Empress, overseeing the internal affairs of the imperial household, acting as the chief overseer of the eunuch organization known as the Twenty-Four Divisions of the Palace, the administrative body for the Forbidden City. But then, the state of the reports presented to her? New screens and furniture, crafted with ivory, quince, and zitan wood, were requested by the Interior Division. The Sewing Division had requested to create new curtains for the sleeping chambers. The Banquet Division was already preparing a grand feast, collecting specialties from each region. The Jewel Cabinet Division sought permission to access the treasury to craft new royal badges for the aristocracy. And the Clothes Making Division had forwarded books discussing various silk patterns for new couture attire. All these tasks converged toward a single direction. Translated into the official eunuch's speech, they essentially meant: "For the new couple’s furniture." "Producing a martial bed for the newlyweds. Soundproof and private." "We will meticulously prepare the weddling meal." "We want to make identity badges for the new royal family; may we use the storehouse?" "Would you check if the new wedding garments are satisfactory?" "What, what on earth is the meaning of this? Tell me, is there some grand event I’m unaware of in the royal household? It feels like preparations for a royal wedding!" At this, the highest-ranking eunuch, Sarye Taegam, responded with surprise. "Your Majesty, isn’t it the Crown Prince’s wedding preparations? With the date swiftly approaching, we’ve been ordered to expedite preparations with the utmost priority." "That's impossible! Even the Emperor cannot single-handedly decide on a state wedding! How can this be forced when all the palace officials express concern?" "Your Majesty, the chief ministers of the Six Ministries have already pledged to heed the Emperor's command. Even now, the seating arrangements for the officials are in chaos..." Seating arrangements for events were especially dreaded by eunuchs, as good spots were limited, and everyone wished to claim the prime positions. This meant the officials had already agreed, and fierce jostling for positions was already taking place behind the scenes. "How can this be! Your Majesty! Your Majesty!!" Thus, the Empress was enraged. An enraged Empress! On the march! "Your Majesty! What in the heavens is happening? How can you make such a decision without even consulting your mother? How could you... how can you do this?" To this, the Emperor casually sipped his iced fruit tea. "The weather is hot, and this tea is so refreshingly cool. Would you like a cup too, Empress?" However, his voice trembled slightly, and the hand holding the teacup subtly shook, as if he were desperately trying to appear calm, but inwardly shaken. That's only natural, for the Empress hails from a prestigious family known for producing numerous distinguished generals from the Ministry of War. Thus, she had quite a fierce temper and a firm hand. "How can you drink fruit tea at a time like this? How can you marry the Crown Prince to such a woman—no, that, that, that woman! A filthy, vile girl of unknown origin!" The Empress struggled mightily to articulate her coarse words. Yet, to the Emperor, this seemed more like a sign of uncontainable rage, as the fruit tea in his cup began to ripple more violently as if reflecting the storm of his emotions. "Ahem, Empress. The six ministers and all officials have already moved to proceed with this wedding. Though I'm the Emperor, can I really disregard the sincere loyalty of my subjects? You know this well." The Emperor stood firm. Even as the Emperor, he couldn't push forward with such a national event on his own. At first, the Empress had thought the Emperor attempting to push the wedding alone would eventually be a dismissed folly, something she need not worry over. And now it was the opposite. All officials were in agreement and acting in unison? No matter how the Empress objected, she alone couldn’t halt a state event. She was not unaware of this. The Empress felt darkness descend upon her vision! Why, why must it come to this? Suddenly, a clenching feeling squeezed her insides tighter, while dizziness swept over her. It felt as if blood vessels were constricting throughout her body and she could faintly hear the sound of blood draining from her. In the midst of this turmoil, despite her heart pounding, and the boiling anger choking her, rendering her voice hoarse and shut, the Empress managed to choke out a plea with a trembling voice. "Why, why do this? Please, Your Majesty, I beg you. I have always stood by your side, supporting your will. Please step back this once, just this once, Your Majesty." "Ugh, I have something to say myself! Didn't I clearly explain with good words? Didn't I promise that she would never even catch sight of the Crown Prince? And yet, how can you be so opposed to this? What more can I do here? Ugh." The Emperor yelled in exasperation, gulping down the chilled fruit tea as if trying to quench a parching thirst. "Ximen Qing, she’s your daughter. Ximen Qing is Yeon Sul, our daughter, so dear to us." At this, the Emperor’s eyes widened in shock. With the Emperor frozen in place, the fruit tea, which had been halfway to his lips, cascaded from his mouth like a slender waterfall.