843 - I Am This Murim’s Crazy B*tch

[The Style of the Four Hidden Swords] Deep within the northern ridge of Dochasan, a gruesome scene, too horrific to behold, unfolded, a spectacle aptly described by the Zhongyuan phrase, a sight that repels the eyes. The fallen military tents stood desolately, scattered among them the bodies of people, or rather, what used to be people. There were hardly any intact bodies, just dismembered limbs strewn all over, hardly recognizable as corpses. Furthermore, in the center, the bodies were piled like mountains, as if depicting the inevitable fate of a defeated, massacred army. Of course, the mountain of bodies was not intentionally piled by someone for clean-up; rather, it was the result of the dying Odokmun warriors hurling themselves at the Heavenly Sword Flower, only to be vanquished. And from that mountain of corpses, suddenly a hand twitched. A survivor, there is a survivor! Could there really be a survivor among the Odokmun warriors, who cried for vengeance, yelling "destroy them all," pledging their lives without a second thought? “Oh, I don’t feel like I slept at all.” To the dismay of Odokmun, the survivor was indeed Heavenly Sword Flower. The reason Qing had been under a pile of bodies with eyes closed was simple. If any remnants of Odokmun were left, wouldn't they appear to collect their comrades' bodies? When ensuring something is done, it must be thorough. If not completely eradicated, the cycle of vengeance, as they say, shall perpetuate. Yes, indeed. The way to surely break the chain of vengeance is not forgiveness, but annihilation—destroying every single one who would seek revenge. Of course, her night spent under the mountain of corpses was not solely due to such ruthless thoughts. There was another reason: sheer exhaustion. Had she ever been this tired since achieving the transcendence of the Transformation Realm? Chased and chasing through Odokmun's encirclement, all kinds of irritations piled up perpetually. And as a result, when clashing with the Dayue army, she fought with a force akin to madness, recklessly employing her demonic arts. In the ensuing battle against Odokmun, she utilized myriad transformations—though not literally thousands, but perhaps around fiftyfold, leaving her internal power severely drained. Did she not flounder amid the raging swarm of Odokmun warriors, wild and relentless as a pack of dogs? Her internal energy and stamina were thoroughly depleted, leaving her completely drained in a manner akin to her hometown saying. So what to do but rest her eyes! If she left the area prematurely, what if one survived and revived Odokmun in the future, or remnants came to collect the bodies, or the Dayue army or the Blood Cult appeared? In that case, closing her eyes here appeared more natural, inviting opportunities for ambush better than half-heartedly fleeing and hiding. Is there any reason not to take a nap? Of course, lying beneath the corpses, the touch of water making its way through her skin was unpleasant. But when they say ‘a body already discarded,’ it means something like this. With every corner of her body soiled with mud, grime, sweat, and an overwhelming stench of pungent poison, any additional filth seemed negligible. After she had dozed off, upon opening her eyes again, the morning sun was already up. No matter how fatigued a master of her caliber was, had anyone approached, she would have been wide awake in an instant. The vanished time indicated that by night, every Odokmun warrior had perished. Hmm, had she killed half of them? Considering they died from overdosing themselves with their own poison, rallying for suicide missions, well, that's typically how things go. Now she would simply head to Geumpyeong-hyeon, check on the state of the Odokmun without Odokmun, and await support from the Dianchang Sect. But before that— She couldn’t possibly leave in this state. Military forces of this era always move with a source of water nearby. So where the army camped must have flowing water not far away. Surely enough, outside the open field ran a small stream—water! Washing water! As she shed her worn garments and dashed out, she suddenly screeched to a halt. Though her heart urged her to plunge straight in, ah, detoxification, detoxification comes first. When soaking in a bath, one must wash one's body first; entering with poison-coated skin simply wouldn’t do... Fetching pots from the cooking tents, pouring water over her, Qing returned to the tent, rinsing the poison clinging to her skin. Despite not being one to fuss over cleanliness, her face gleamed with pure joy as she rubbed her body clean. However, this pleasure of feeling the mud and sweat washing away, was something someone who bathes regularly would never know. This really, feels like heaven… She had been saving up for a good wash after a night under the stars. Having briefly rinsed her body, Qing finally splashed eagerly into the stream. Though shallow enough only to cover up to her shins, lying across the pebbly stream bed conveyed a refreshing sensation throughout. When she lay down in the barely body-covering stream, two generously large mounds surfaced like twin islands. If Ximen Surin had seen this, she would have been certain Qing had lost her mind, bellowing how could someone expose themselves like this in broad daylight, and she would have rained endless flicks upon her head. However, for this very moment, Qing felt a complete sense of freedom amidst the solitude of untouched nature. If Qing liked it, then it was all well and good. Upon relishing this refreshing experience, oh dear, there were no clothes. And she couldn't exactly don those ragged scraps again, hmm, but with no one around, she would have to find something wearable quickly. Qing rummaged through the tents, finding clothing that was at least decently clean and dressed herself. Her stomach then rumbled insistently for breakfast, and Qing drooled over the thought of ordering all the delicious dishes once she reached Geumpyeong-hyeon, today's inns better be prepared for a complete raid. Wait a minute, money, darn, knew it! --- **Terms and Decisions:** 1. "Dochasan(도채산)" - Translated as "Dochasan" as it's a name of a place. It is typically better to keep place names in their original form to preserve cultural context. Alternative: "Docha Mountain." 2. "Odokmun(오독문)" - Translated as "Odokmun warriors" to denote the fighters from Odokmun, highlighting their affiliation. Literal translation: "Odok Gate" or "Five Venoms Sect." 3. "Geumpyeong-hyeon(금평현)" - Translated as "Geumpyeong-hyeon" to maintain its status as a geographical location. Alternative: "Geumpyeong County." 4. "Dayue(대월)" – Translated as "Dayue" referring to a nation analogous to historical geographical names. Alternative: "Greater Yue." 5. "Odokmun - without Odokmun" – This phrasing involves a play on words, indicating the absurdity of their defeat rendering them nonexistent. The original uses similar repetition to convey irony. Alternative: "Odokmun's fate of nonexistence." This translation attempted to retain the narrative’s vivid imagery and the protagonist’s whimsical tone while ensuring that the reader understands Qing's exhaustion and cunning amidst battle aftermaths. Revised certain self-referential names and colloquial phrases to fit English dramatization without losing authenticity. Qing had left most of her belongings entrusted at the guesthouse in Gaeguhyeon, bringing along only two gold coins for travel expenses. The outfit she wore before had been tattered to begin with, and now it had turned into shreds barely recognizable as clothing. The money pouch attached to it must have been lost somewhere along the way, and Qing had no clue when or how it happened. Searching the entire mountainside, this makeshift rainforest, was certainly not an option. Maybe she could just grab a meal from what's left in the camp's provisions, but that's only one meal. Without a penny, what about lunch and dinner when she reached Geumpyeong-hyeon? Not to mention lodging? What to do? The return of the wandering pauper? It's not a bad idea to observe the Odokmun without its Odokmun, but... Zhuge Leehyun would be arriving with the people of the Dianchang Sect, and she couldn’t meet them looking like a beggar… What to do, indeed? Then suddenly, Qing’s eyes settled on one particular spot. The mountain-like pile of Odokmun bodies. They had vowed to die avenging their fallen brethren, and indeed, Odokmun warriors perished pursuing only revenge. Revenge they never achieved, focusing more on the journey than the result, it seemed. Regardless, Qing, in a sense, fulfilled their wish to die fighting for vengeance. So, wouldn’t she be right to accept a reward? --- And thus, Geumpyeong! Geumpyeong-hyeon was a city surrounded on three sides by Dochasan, thriving due to its position as a gateway to the Old Tea Horse Road. However, the streets were quite deserted. Rumor had it that the city was enduring tough times as merchants dwindled due to an outbreak of plague. “Oh my, because of that damned white plague, merchants aren’t passing through at all these days, it’s killing us,” lamented the tavern server. The server, naturally adept at expressing complaints, made melodrama his profession. Even a single mosquito bite would prompt a dramatic groan, and a few coins would turn him into your genie. Their knack for fuss was almost occupational, though this time, there was genuine sincerity in his lament over the emptiness of the guesthouse. He lingered around Qing’s table, absentmindedly wiping the clean table again. On Qing’s table already rested several empty dishes. Having already enjoyed a hearty, battle-like feast. Were there truly a hell to gaze upon the living world after death, the Odokmun, witnessing their money satiating their nemesis, would have had much to curse about. The server hovered nearby, hoping this rare, well-spending guest might open her purse again as he lingered. Qing casually tested the waters with him. “Don’t Odokmun folk know both poisons and remedies well? I mean, with all the good herbs Dochasan has, I’d think they’d—” “Whoa! Sir! Hush!” The server cut Qing off abruptly, nervously scanning his surroundings. But in the ambiguity between morning and noon, as there were naturally few patrons, his glances were empty, offering no reassurance. “You must be careful what you say. What if someone hears?” “Hmm. Is it that serious? Anyway, knowing poisons typically means they know cures too. Any word on a cure or something?” “That’s….” The server blinked deliberately. It was a signal asking to be slipped a little extra. Qing handed him a small amount of coins, then he carefully checked his surroundings, even though they were barren, and whispered to her ear. ‘Recently, the collectors haven’t shown up. The main gate is firmly shut. Rumor has it there’s a big outbreak within Odokmun, they say.’ Despite the absence of other guests, the server whispered—clearly fearful of Odokmun. Though the information was worth no more than the trifle he received, it was nothing of substance. The Odokmun warriors they would have sent for collections were, no doubt, now ensconced not in heaven, but rather in hell’s embrace beneath the earth. The main gate was locked. Inside, it was a hive teeming with Blood Cult members. They wouldn’t showcase those peculiar, four-legged freaks in public. Seems like I’ll have to do some legwork myself. But where to start? Then Qing glanced at her empty plates. Surely enough, even Blood Cult favors must eat, meaning suppliers for provisions must exist. By assessing the volume of provisions, one could gauge Odokmun’s Blood Cult occupancy. However, if the supplier is linked to the Blood Cult, hmm, that’s quite the dilemma. Reconnaissance for now. Though a minor scuffle caused Odokmun’s annihilation, gathering thorough intelligence to excise Blood Cult is paramount. To minimize fait accompli even if Dianchang Sect intervenes. Thus, first, let's take a peek at Odokmun’s main compound. ---- Compared to its appearance, Geumpyeong-hyeon was indeed a smaller city. Its seemingly grand scale was due to numerous uninhabited warehouses. These were storages for drying tea leaves, for this northeastern mountain range produced the finest Zhongyuan tea leaves. Odokmun’s main compound was, hmm, legitimately large. Odokmun surrounded by high walls akin to fortress walls, truly a fortress-like structure implanted in the city’s heart. The main gate lay to the south, with several smaller doors on the surrounding walls, checked. Among them, two feasible for provisioning. Though just side entrances, both equipped with swing doors, facilitating cart access. Provisions must be observed at these entries. Being suspicious with inquiries could illicitly reach Blood Cult ears, so loitering daintily at a tea shop nearby to bide time. Planning to discreetly trail the supplier and verify his identity. "Hello, proprietor? I’d like some pastries, hmm, an assortment of all types." "Pardon?" "Quickly." Nibbling on pastries with tea lingered for some while. Lunch consisted of those pastries. --- **Terms and Decisions:** 1. "Gaeguhyeon(개구현)" - Kept as "Gaeguhyeon" assuming it's a place name relevant to the narrative. Alternative: "Gaegu County." 2. "Old Tea Horse Road(차마고도)" - Translated literally, referring to a historical trade route for tea and horse transport. 3. "백족 두창" - Translated as "white plague," denoting a disease's color or symptoms without specifying its scientific name. Alternative: "Smallpox." 4. "거지(양 판사)" - Utilized as a play on "beggar/pauper," highlighting the protagonist's critical and pragmatic situation, adding humor. Alternative: "Vagabond." The tone and dynamic interactions are maintained while navigating Qing's paradoxical humor and her oblivious yet strategic approach amid chaotic circumstances. Added cultural coherence where feasible. The owner of the tea shop, who had been a bit uneasy, visibly brightened up after Qing made an interim payment. It was during this time that something caught her attention across the street. At a nearby "banjeom," a type of eatery where one could cheaply satisfy their hunger in the Zhongyuan, a worker was hauling out a large basin, struggling under its weight. As he worked, he dumped it into a sizable container at the alley's entrance beside the restaurant. Suddenly, a memory from Qing's past rose to the surface. Yes, after mealtime, the leftovers, called "jjam" in military slang, would be poured into those bins next to shops. This was often food for the beggars. Of course, it was nothing more than a taunting mirage to those afflicted with the plague—a mere dream of food. If a scavenging beggar touched the bin, the whole thing was considered contaminated. They would get beaten just for being near it. But if they were lucky and the timing was just right, with no other beggars around, they could sneak a large portion and run away. That way, they wouldn't have to fill their stomachs with insects or bark, and back then, just one bag of that garbage was enough to make her feel grateful. Right then, a young beggar, beaming with an innocent smile, ran up and began scooping out handfuls of leftovers into a worn-out sack. Yes, just like that. Those moments were joyful. Suddenly— "That, that! That plague-ridden bastard!" What was happening? Startled, the young beggar almost leapt into the air, quickly making a dash for it— Thud! bWpnL1VNWWVlR0h2N0IyVWd5ZUJTemIxT2Z1SU0zUFlmajBiaUp0L2pnM2dCMXBTbWo2MWFpdERKME0zQkl4Rw The fleeing beggar stumbled over someone's foot and took a harsh tumble to the ground. Looking at the person who’d tripped him, it was clear—the kind who usually harassed beggars were often beggars themselves. The only difference was, he brandished a sturdy club in hand. “You plague-ridden rat, daring to touch the elders' food again? How many times have we told you that if we catch you again, you won't even be able to find your bones? Do our words sound like jokes to you? You're going to wish you were dead today.” Qing’s brow furrowed. What a disgusting thing to say. Unmistakably, a scenario that resonated with her; she couldn’t help but feel a pang of connection, fully immersed in the encounter.