Chapter 207: Let's Hold a Spar

“What? You’ll just snatch up the martial arts but refuse to accept me as your master? What kind of thief—no, thief wench—mentality is this? Hmm. A thief wench. A thief wench, you say.”

Cheon Yuhak spat the words out, dumbfounded. But upon reflection, having the mentality of a thief wench was actually an excellent quality.

After all, the next Divine Thief naturally had to be a thief.

“I simply thanked you because you offered to teach me. Why call me a thief wench? If you don’t want to teach me, then don’t. Why resort to insults?”

“It’s not an insult. Coming from me, it’s a compliment. Anyway, aren’t you tempted? I said it’s Absolute Studies of Divine Arts! It’s a supreme martial art, unparalleled under heaven.”

“I happen to know plenty of Absolute Studies of Divine Arts myself, you know? Besides, how am I supposed to know what it is if you just call it ‘Absolute Studies of Divine Arts’? You have to tell me the name so I can recognize it and think, Ah, that’s a good one.”

“Shouldn’t I only tell you if you agree to learn it?”

“I need to know what I’m learning before I ask to be taught.”

“I told you, it’s Absolute Studies of Divine Arts!”

”Look, mister, if someone shows up saying they have something good and tells you to buy it, do you just hand over your money without even knowing what it is?”

“Aigoo, this is frustrating enough to kill me! Divine Arts! Divine Arts!” Cheon Yuhak cried out.

“So, the name…”

Cheon Yuhak pounded his chest.

Qing’s point was, admittedly, reasonable.

However, the creatures known as martial artists would immediately offer chests of gold if someone offered to sell Divine Arts.

That’s what Divine Arts meant to them.

Of course, Qing simply figured she could trade it for something else later, so she didn’t fall into that category.

“Hmm. If you don’t have anything else to say, may I leave now? My body is starting to cool down,” Qing said.

“What? You’re not tempted even when I say it’s Divine Arts?”

“I told you, I know many Divine Arts too! And even if I were tempted, what could I do? I already have a Master. People don’t take on multiple parents just hoping to inherit more wealth, do they?”

“Why not! Are there only one or two great figures in history who had multiple fathers? If I announced I was willing to pass down Divine Arts, enough men willing to call me Father, let alone Master, would gather to fill an entire city!”

“Then perhaps you should go find people like that? I have no intention of serving anyone other than my Master. Well then. Ah, thank you for sharing the training method.”

Qing gave a brief bow and trudged away, her steps heavy with exhaustion.

Indeed, now that the heat in her body had subsided, every muscle ached, her clothes felt cold and damp, caked in mud, and weighed her down like a thousand jin.

Cheon Yuhak stared blankly at her retreating figure.

“Right, she’s a loyal girl, is that it? Isn’t that even better? Fine, we’ll wait and see.”

However, it was the inherent nature of a thief to burn with an even greater desire to steal something precisely because it was precious.

Did he say to use the dagger instead of her hand?

Qing immediately decided to try the suspicious old man’s training method, starting right at dinner.

Peng Daesan’s assessment of her efforts was harsh.

“Do you hold some kind of grudge against your food? I haven’t a clue what you’re doing.”

“Hmm. Some expert I passed by gave me advice,” Qing explained. “Told me to try using a knife instead of my hand. But, hmm… the knife is a bit too sharp…”

She hadn’t anticipated that eating with a dagger would be so difficult.

Including the handle, it measured about one chi and four cun, roughly forty-two centimeters according to her hometown’s units.

The handle itself was about five cun, typical for a dagger, so she figured she could just stab the food with the relatively short blade and eat.

But the knife was exceedingly sharp.

When she stabbed a large piece of sliced duck meat, it felt like pushing a knife through soft tofu.

Consequently, when she lifted her hand, the dagger slid out smoothly on its own, leaving the meat undisturbed.

Qing changed her approach, stabbing horizontally to skewer the meat. However, the center of gravity was off, causing it to tilt. The smooth blade simply cut through the meat and slipped out the side.

As Qing relentlessly targeted the duck meat, the mangled chunk was eventually utterly destroyed.

“Ah damn, this is hard.”

“Unless you plan on sitting at this table all day, stop that ridiculous nonsense and just eat your meal,” Peng Daesan grumbled.

“Hmph. I need to give it a proper try first. Then I can complain to that expert mister later if I run into him again. Should I give up just because it’s hard right now? It’s still advice from an Unrestrained Realm expert.”

Qing carefully skewered the meat again. This time, as she lifted it, she tilted the dagger upright, intending to let the meat slide down to the guard—

Instead, the meat, skewered on the dagger, slid down the blade. The sharp edge sliced its side, causing it to slip off sideways and fall onto the table with a dull thud.

“Damn it, why is this knife so sharp?”

“Qing, let me see the dagger for a moment. Hmm.” Zhuge Ihyeon took the dagger. He expertly gauged the blade with one eye, checked its flexibility by shaking it, and examined its luster against the firelight, projecting the air of a sword specialist.

Then, he delivered his conclusion.

“It appears to be the Blue Sword, one of the Blue and Red Twin Terrors.”

Ah. Could it be… this feeling?

Qing held her breath and counted to three in anticipation.

One, two, now!

“Blue Sword!” “Blue and Red Twin Terrors!” “Blue Sword!”

Unfortunately, their minds were not in sync.

Qing briefly contemplated whether she ought to administer a penalty—perhaps ask the kitchen for some fish sauce?—to Tang Nanah, who was the only one to guess wrong, and Peng Daesan, who hadn’t even opened his mouth.

“Hmm. Is it good?” Qing asked.

“To explain this, I must inevitably recount the tale of the Mantis Fiend from two generations ago,” Zhuge Ihyeon began. “Ah, but to speak of the Mantis Fiend, I should first tell you about the bloody history of the Yangun Mountain Sect, ah! And even before the bloody history of the Yangun Mountain Sect, I really must begin by explaining how one man’s careless flirtation became the root of that entire complicated affair.”

Qing asked, “Isn’t Zhuge just looking for an excuse to talk for a long time after ages? You’re really going to tell that whole story just to introduce a single dagger?”

“Isn’t it true, Qing, that the true appreciation of a famed weapon comes from knowing its history?” Zhuge Ihyeon countered.

“Well. Fine. Sounds like it could be interesting.”

Qing listened distractedly to Zhuge Ihyeon’s story while continuing her struggle with the meat.

The Blue and Red Twin Terrors, he explained, consisted of a pair of sister blades—one dagger and one stiletto—made famous as the unique weapons of the Mantis Fiend.

The Mantis Fiend was a great villain who had achieved the Demonic Descent Realm and might have defined an era. Unfortunately for him, the Greatest Under Heaven two generations prior happened to be the Celestial Martial Emperor.

In the end, the Mantis Fiend lost his head, and his weapons were confiscated.

“I heard the Celestial Martial Emperor kept them stored separately until their rightful owner appeared,” Zhuge Ihyeon concluded. “It seems you’ve formed a connection with that successor.”

Successor, my ass, Qing thought.

Hadn’t Zhuge Ihyeon himself been the one to inform her that the Divine Thief was the greatest thief under heaven?

Furthermore, during the three ke (roughly forty-five minutes) it took him to tell the story, she had only managed to chew a few pieces of meat. And those pieces were so mangled they offered little satisfaction. Qing was thoroughly annoyed.

“Why don’t you just eat properly? Have some soup at least,” Peng Choryeo suggested gently.

“If I’m using this ‘instead of my hand,’ then I have to lift the soup bowl with this too, right? Ah. Right. I just need to lift it. Not stab it.”

Qing slid the blade underneath a piece of meat, gently lifting and lowering it to gauge the center of gravity. Then, with an expression of utmost seriousness, she slowly raised her arm.

Qing’s body surpassed human limits not just in strength but in all metrics; her sensitivity and sense of balance were similarly exceptional.

Somehow managing to balance the meat precariously on the blade, Qing brought it directly above her head and let it drop. She tilted her head back sharply, mouth wide open, tongue sticking out to catch it.

Peng Choryeo let out a deep sigh.

“Qing-ah. Really, for a lady to behave like that… isn’t it, well, rather embarrassing for everyone watching?”

“But I have to do this if I want to eat! And besides, it’s just us here, so what does it matter?”

“That… haaah. Never mind. Fine.”

Peng Choryeo knew perfectly well it was pointless nagging that Qing wouldn’t heed anyway, so she gave up early and simply sighed deeply.

Correcting Qing’s behavior was a monumental task, a feat perhaps only possible for an authority in the field like Ximen Surin!

After finally managing a few more bites in this manner, even Qing started to feel a bit self-conscious that everyone was watching her.

They had all finished their meals long ago and, having nothing better to do, naturally found their eyes drawn to her bizarre performance.

Qing smacked her lips and declared.

“Ask them to pack this up for me. I’m going to finish eating it later. I need to see this through, find out who wins.”

Peng Choryeo forcefully swallowed the nagging words that rose to her throat.

Qing-ah, she wanted to scream, who in the entire world fights with their food to determine a winner?

Qing did indeed have the food packed up. By the time she finally finished her meal, struggling the entire time, it was late into the night.

Still, managing to clean the plate gave her a satisfying sense of accomplishment, like successfully completing a difficult assignment.

Since Qing had been occupied with her attempt to eat from evening until the dead of night, Tang Nanah, who had been whining beside her about being bored and demanding they play, eventually got offended and stormed off home.

Looks like I’ll be sleeping alone tonight, Qing mused, reaching to untie the ribbons of her clothes when she suddenly froze.

If she was supposed to use the dagger instead of her hand, didn’t that apply to dressing and undressing as well?

Hadn’t the instruction been ‘instead of your hand’ except when sleeping?

Qing looked down at the ties of her robe.

Hmm. Even if I use my left hand to help, can I really untie these things with a blade?

After pondering for a moment, Qing simply shrugged, tossed her clothes off haphazardly, and threw herself onto the bed.

She’d suffered enough with the meal for one day.

It was late anyway. She’d sleep now and start fresh tomorrow morning by trying to put on her clothes with the dagger.

With that decided, Qing wriggled contentedly, enjoying the luxurious feel of the Mucheon Pavilion’s highest quality silk bedding against her bare skin.

The sensation of the silk bedding clinging to her body was truly pleasant, yet sleep stubbornly refused to come.

Rolling around, sinking into the plush, yielding softness, she understood why people insisted on using good bedding. Weren’t there even groups who claimed its benefits were scientific? It was incredibly comfortable, but, hmm, she just wasn’t sleepy.

Qing lay still and closed her eyes.

It’s often said that when one cannot see, the other senses sharpen. Her superhuman hearing began to trace the subtle sounds of the night.

However, the Mucheon Pavilion was a top-class guesthouse, and the soundproofing was equally superb. Outside the window, only the muffled chirping of insects could be faintly heard, like a thin veil over the silence. There was no sign of human presence nearby.

Strange. Weren’t the maids supposed to be staying in the room at the very end of this floor?

Is the soundproofing really this good?

Not a single breath reached her ears.

Then again, even if her hearing surpassed human limits, how could she possibly detect the soft sound of people breathing several thick walls away?

That would require a level of skill far beyond merely superhuman; it would be a feat of the super-superhuman.

As Qing strained her ears, trying in vain to find any sign of presence, she suddenly shot bolt upright in bed.

“What’s the point of sleeping? It’s not like skipping a few nights of sleep makes me tired anyway. Given my current skill level, how can I possibly sleep? Shouldn’t I be swinging my sword one more time instead?”

The words she muttered aloud, deliberately creating sound in the quiet room, served as an excuse with no one present to hear it.

Qing reached for the small table beside her bed.

More precisely, she reached for the dagger resting upon it.

Drk! The door slid open with a jarringly loud noise.

To barge so carelessly into a woman’s room, potentially while she was sleeping—could there possibly be anyone more rude in the world?

However, Tang Nanah was, by her very nature, an exceedingly rude and wicked woman, so this behavior wasn’t particularly out of the ordinary for her.

“Yah! Is that wench here again! Huh? What, Qing-ah, why are you already up?” Tang Nanah demanded.

“What do you mean, ‘that wench’?” Qing asked.

“Because the moment you leave your bed for one night, you seem to attract other wenches! The way I see it, that Gongson wench is completely shady.”

She had gone home in a huff yesterday, but it appeared she’d gotten over her pique overnight.

Qing chuckled and offered a gentle rebuke.

“The only shady person around me is you, you know? And who said anything about leaving? Ah. Right.”

Then, with an awkward smile, she asked.

“Hey Nanah-ah, could you, uh, run to the clothier’s and buy me a whole bunch of cheap martial uniforms? Preferably ones woven from really tough, thick cloth. Like hemp? Yeah, the kind made from coarse hemp burlap.”

“Huh? Hemp? Isn’t that terribly rough? But why, all of a sudden?”

“Hmm. This? It’s because of this?”

Qing gently lifted the shoulders of the training uniform she was wearing.

As she did, the shredded state of the garment became visible. It was cut into dozens, perhaps hundreds, of thin strips. It looked as though it had been carelessly shoved into and pulled out of one of those machines from her hometown called a shredder.

Through the myriad gaps created by the cuts, patches of her white skin peeked out here and there.

Tang Nanah’s expression instantly turned fierce, and a sharp, furiously angry voice burst from her lips.

“Wh-what!? What happened to your clothes!? Who made your clothes look like that!? My god, such a common, pathetic trick—Ah! Sword Flower! It was that Sword Flower wench, wasn’t it? Did that wench come by last night?”