789 - I Am This Murim’s Crazy B*tch

Qing pondered the image of Ashiya, who had once dominated the malicious recycling gathering—a grim reminder of the event at the Yue Divine Sword Maiden's assembly. Throughout the event, dark incantations echoed, accompanied by ominous dances, the swift movements of daggers in what seemed like a trance. The precision in slaughter was unparalleled, ensuring blood did not spill haphazardly from minor vessels to major ones, a testament to masterful butchery. Had the situation not been one of slaughtering a beast in human guise, such sorcery would never have been tolerated, invoking an immediate call to arms against its malevolent presence— the kind of authority expected from a leader of a sect. Considering inquiring about Yeon Sul's resurrection ritual, Qing remembers how the royal family acted like it never existed in the first place. The royal family must have realized they needed her. She needs to assess the individual first. If she perceives genuine curiosity without hostility, perhaps smooth discourse can follow. Yet, admitting a fault in the ritual she performed is a different matter altogether. Will she comply without resistance? Contemplating this, Qing stands before the door. As Gabiyo slides the door open, her eyes immediately catch sight of the top of a familiar head, fully prostrate on the dirty floor (since in Zhongyuan, it is common to wear shoes indoors). The figure lay rigidly flattened to the ground, legs splayed at a right angle. From toes and knees to pelvis, stomach, chest, forehead, elbows, and the backs of hands, every part adhered tightly to the floor in the most exemplary of five-point body postures. Crawling proficiently with lips kissing Qing's shoe tips, the figure suddenly wrapped around her ankle, pleading desperately. "I was wrong! I've committed a grave sin!" Rather than a straightforward response, this was a miserable confession beginning with groveling for mercy. "Your Grace, please, I beg you, just once, have mercy, we'll, I mean, I will, this humble woman will tell you everything, yes? Please, please, mercy..." Hmm, this voice seems familiar. Ashiya was rubbing her cheek against Qing's shoe as if trying to polish it. Unfortunately, shoes in Zhongyuan weren't made of a material that polished, so they couldn't test a new polishing technique on her cheek. "Hmm." For now, Qing held back her words. Ashiya was groveling on her own accord (physically too, and it seemed amusing to let her be for a while). Indeed, somehow, it was amusing. If Qing asked her to lick, would she? "By the way, do you know about the Khitan bowing ceremony? It's when Khitan people apologize by placing their forearms on the ground and holding a handstand perpendicular to the earth-" "I was wrong!" "Oh." Qing clapped her hands. Ashiya immediately understood. "Calm down now. I'm not here to accuse you." At that, Ashiya plopped back down, clinging to Qing's ankle like a bug crawling and holding on. "Then, my siblings, Your Grace, I'm the criminal. Punish me instead, but please, just spare my siblings, I won't even ask for their freedom, even if they must serve in the palace, please, fate can be lowly, but please spare their lives..." "Huh. Siblings?" "They are pitiful children born in a country where they were oppressed and mistreated worse than livestock, children who have only just begun to smile. Please. I'll explain everything, Your Grace...!" "Alright, calm down a bit." "No! I accept my punishment like this! How could a lowly woman stand upright after committing such an audacious sin, Your Grace? But even the humble Maiden and my siblings did their utmost during those forty-nine days to keep Your Grace breathing, enduring sleepless nights while fainting repeatedly, showing such devotion, so please. Just punish me, and I'll give you one arm, no, both arms, even my legs if you wish, yes?" It seemed she was unwilling to surrender her neck, showing a reluctance to die, though with no limbs, living would hardly be truly living. "No, calm down, and stop pulling on my skirt, let go." "Oh please, we tried our best, and in the grand scheme, Your Grace's presence here, like a majestic sun, is partly possible due to the small aid we provided. So, if we break it down, we saved you, and though leaving was regrettable, we didn't know any better, essentially we were deceived, weren't given proper time for despair..." "No, calm down. I understand. I'm not here to accuse you." At that, Ashiya's face brightened. Her posture was such that her neck might have strained in her eagerness to look up at Qing, eyes filled with desperate hope. "Then, my siblings..." "No, why would I harm your siblings?" "Agh, Your Grace, please don't do this, I beg you! I'll do anything, anything, just spare my siblings...!" Back to square one. It took quite a while to calm her down and reassure her before Ashiya's ordeals were disclosed. The royal family had decided to dismiss Yeon Sul's case as if it never existed, a typical resolution for Zhongyuan, but they couldn't pass off Ashiya's audacity in switching out the princess. About half of the divine maidens practicing yoga were seized abruptly by the military, dragged away by their hair only to end up in the infamous Dongchang prison, awaiting an inevitable demise. "If only the divine maidens' siblings survive, I will serve with utmost devotion, Your Grace. Please, I beg of you...!" "Hmm. For now, let's just see. Let's not jump to conclusions." So, for the time being, they retreated. However, even for Qing, it was a challenging situation. Qing had no authority to meddle in the court's affairs, to demand anything, or to tell them what not to do. Qing had officially renounced her status as a princess; with Yeon Sul's case being an imposter, Qing herself was no longer a princess but simply Ximen Qing. Even if Qing had intended to maintain the pretense of being a princess, which she didn't, it wouldn't have been different. Moreover, she had no connections at court. The only feasible person to consult, though not a connection, might be Her Majesty, the Empress? Some might suggest she wasn’t just holding onto the flimsiest of ties but instead had it bound thickly around herself. Yet, the Empress merely offered a gentle smile. "Yes, my daughter. Remember, to tame someone, it’s not through fear or threats but through kindness. Though those women might seem deserving to be torn apart, no matter how beast-like they are, if they receive your kindness, won't they serve a purpose?" "Uh, yes." "Even so, waiting a bit might be wise. At least having their necks under the executioner’s axe will make them appreciate mercy more keenly." The Empress suggested Qing had Ashiya captured knowingly so that Ashiya would become compliant, allowing Qing to bestow her mercy. Furthermore, she insinuated that mercy is more impactful when delivered from the brink of death—only after placing one's head under the executioner's axe. Hmm, the Empress’s love is overwhelmingly intense, and frankly, frightening. Returning to the Divine Maiden Sect. This time, as the door opens, there's a crowd of familiar heads lined up densely before her. It was a complete turnout of the Divine Maiden Sect’s yoga practitioners. Though not groveling with a comedic five-point body posture, they sat demurely, offering a grand bow with their bodies slightly bowed. Having rubbed their cheeks against her shoes while groveling earlier, no matter how much they tried to regain composure with dignity now, they couldn’t undo the first impression. "Your Grace, we are deeply grateful for this benevolence." "““We are deeply grateful for this benevolence.””” "Oh, well. There's no need to go that far." "But there is! They were children trembling daily at every shichen, accustomed to living in fear of death in the Dongchang's cell, never seeing sunlight again. You set them free immediately, so this act of kindness is something they will carry for life." Qing's nearly worn triangular, almost circular conscience spins round. Hmm, I hope they aren't aware of the circumstances. Though, they're not particularly guilt-stricken. Some might argue that the Empress acted excessively. To ensure Qing could grant her mercy, the Empress thrust them into the throes of deathly fear; it’s true their cheeks were haggard, and their eyes awfully wide-eyed as if they'd escaped death. However, they were far from innocent to begin with. The yogis of the Divine Maiden Sect performed a false Yeon Sul resurrection ritual and, upon failing, concealed the corpse while introducing an imposter to replace Yeon Sul. If one considers a mother who unwittingly accepted an impostor in place of her own deceased daughter, cutting their heads off on a real executioner’s axe wouldn’t be unjustified. Moreover, the Emperor decided to utilize them as would any sinner when justified, slicing those given rather than questioning good from bad. "The resurrection rite, you say?" "Yes, it’s the Ijuhan Parshva, or as Northlanders might say, a soul? In the Northland, they believe a person reborn never escapes the confined world, a closed realm among the three thousand realities. However, a soul freed from the flesh is reborn in a world identical in height among the three thousand realities.” Ashiya was confident in her recount. The ritual had been performed successfully before in India, though it led to persecution, branding Ashiya's group as evil sorcerers. Nevertheless, the ritual itself was performed successfully. Yet, Yeon Sul didn’t awaken. At one point, Ashiya thought perhaps the arrival was merely delayed, but upon reflection, oh dear. Had the soul not gone somewhere slightly different than where the Northlanders prefer? "Oh dear indeed." "That said, results-wise, as we served Your Grace, it's justified to say it ended well. In that respect, one could argue we saved you, albeit... I may have said something slightly amiss, should I kneel again?" Is Ashiya a mere quack after all? Initially, listening to the Empress’s perspective suggested a group of wicked individuals. But Qing, upon observing the leader, found her just as bumbling and incompetent as she seemed. Perhaps Gabiyo’s formidable front masked his inner bungling, as much as Ashiya's manner does—the facade was barely polished sophistication. Qing suddenly understood the Emperor’s decision. Despite the grave crime of switching princesses, he chose to gloss over the matter. Certainly, it was an embarrassing issue to speak of, and there were practical reasons, like bolstering production means for the Jinwei Garrison. But fundamentally, they are harmless. Left alone, they pose no threat, simply crawling on their own, pleading to be spared—fearful cowards easily manipulated. If not, this might even be Ashiya's survival tactic. No one feels threatened by a fool. Feigning silliness intentionally is her guise of self-preservation. Otherwise, how else could they have continued hiding the fake Yeon Sul from being detected for so long? Her concern for her siblings might just be a claim, presenting them as hostages to the court. Yet, what purpose would examining Ashiya's true nature serve now? There is likely no reason for further interactions anyway. "Could any other soul occupy a body during this resurrection rite?" From what was overheard, it seemed no different than the ritual to create one with the Blood Poisoning Constitution. However... When cultures differ, so do their rituals. Fundamentally, rituals belong to the realm of the literary arts; they are the creations of belief where the unanimous faith makes them real. Thus, though similar, the Taiji and the resurrection rite cannot be the same. "No, Your Grace. Our purpose is merely to hold onto the lingering chain binding the spirit to the body and pull. It is not a request for the spirit to please return. Why would a spirit willingly enter such a dreadful prison?" In India’s understanding, the body is a prison confining the spirit. Every spirit desires to be free from the body, but worldly laws reimprison the spirit in another body for new beginnings in the mortal realm. Only karma distinguishes reincarnation into a wretched or noble form based on one's deeds in the prior lifetime. Thus, the resurrection rite is inherently malicious. It forces a spirit, having gained freedom from the bodily prison, to be trapped again by grasping the unsevered chain attached to the flesh. Therefore, no other spirit takes residence. How could it, when the chain seized is exclusively that of the original spirit? Pulling on the leash tethered to a kennel will only bring forth the dog belonging to that kennel; an unrelated dog wouldn’t just suddenly appear on a leash. "Gasp, apologies! I didn't mean to suggest that Your Grace is a dog!" Gabiyo immediately goes into a handstand. A Khitan-style apology, though the Khitan bow isn’t an actual form of penance they use. Regardless, Qing has no space in her thoughts to watch this spectacle. No other spirit can be drawn in by the ritual? Then, what am I? What exactly am I?