Chapter 209: Let's Hold a Spar

Actually, Cheon Yuhak had it all planned out.

The Sword Hand Training Method was a secret technique, a time-honored tradition of the Divine Thief lineage designed to maximize one's senses.

The fact that it also smoothed out one's movements was just a side effect, an unexpected bonus—nothing more than a fringe benefit.

Since a blade couldn't perfectly replace a human hand, overcoming this required keen senses, incredibly fine control over strength, and a precise sense of balance.

So, naturally, when she inevitably failed and started complaining about whether it was even possible, he planned to show her a cool demonstration and recommend a martial art.

It was a Divine Art called Lithe Grace Refinement, an external art designed to make the body flexible and supple, just as its name—'Flowing Soft Body Refinement'—suggested.

Unlike internal arts, which focused on accumulating internal energy, external arts aimed to develop the physical body. A famous example was Shaolin's Great Prajna Vajra Invulnerability Divine Art.

"Oh, um. Yes, yes. That's about right. Hmm, you do have a little bit of talent," Cheon Yuhak said.

"Oh. Really? I have talent?" Qing asked back, her face brightening.

It was the first time she'd ever been told she had talent without the help of the Status Window.

Had her eight shichen [^Approximately 16 hours] of non-stop effort—starting from dinner last night, through the clothes-shredding incident in the dead of night, and right up to breakfast—finally paid off?

She felt a surge of pride.

However, the Status Window probably felt wronged.

Her performance was merely a rough imitation achieved through brute-force repetition, leveraging her immense stats. She hadn't grasped any particular knack for it; she was just powering through with superhuman physical abilities.

It was similar to running, for example.

A talented person would quickly grasp the optimal posture, breathing, and overall method of running, enabling rapid improvement. Qing, on the other hand, was just mindlessly pushing off the ground with brute leg strength.

Still, if the results looked the same, an observer couldn't help but see it as talent.

"But it's still not enough," Cheon Yuhak continued. "Shouldn't it take the same amount of time whether you use your bare hands or a dagger? How long did it take you to eat yesterday? To get dressed?"

"Hmm. Well, that's true. But won't I get better quickly?" Qing asked.

"And after that, you have to do it with your left hand, and finally, live your life holding daggers in both hands. Only then can you say you've grasped the ultimate essence of the Sword Hand Training," Cheon Yuhak explained.

"Ah…"

Then, Qing suddenly asked again—

"But do I really need to see the ultimate essence? I just need to learn what softness is."

"Ahem, once you grasp the ultimate essence of the Sword Hand Training, won't you naturally come to understand the ultimate essence of softness as well?" Cheon Yuhak countered.

"Hmm. Is all that really necessary…"

A startled Cheon Yuhak tried to placate her.

"What, is it too hard? Actually, the Sword Hand Training isn't just about living with a sword in your hand. There's a supplementary training method, you know? If you do them together, you'll achieve much faster results."

"Oh, there's a training method like that?" Qing asked.

"Yes. It's a Divine Art called Lithe Grace Refinement. Hmm? Where are you looking now? Is something there?"

"Ah! I just saw something over there."

Oops. Qing quickly feigned ignorance.

Given Cheon Yuhak's profession, he hadn't missed that brief flicker of her gaze.

Flowing Soft Body Refinement Divine Art. External Arts. Gold-rank.
The name definitely has 'Divine Art' in it, but still, gold-rank?
Doesn't this guy have any purple-rank arts?
Is he broke or something?

If Cheon Yuhak knew what she was thinking, he would have flown into a rage. This is a Divine Art too! This rotten world only recognizes the very best! he might have screamed.

"So, are you going to teach me that Lithe Grace Refinement training method too?" Qing asked.

"Of course. Just perform the Nine Bows of Etiquette once—"

"I'm sorry," Qing cut him off.

"You wicked wench, cutting me off so sharply. Just think about it one more time—"

"I'm sorry," Qing repeated.

"Dammit! This is a Divine Art too! Here! Look! If you're a swordsman, you'll understand how incredible this is!"

Cheon Yuhak then held up his hand and began bending it in various directions. It was flexible to the point of being grotesque—bending it backward until the back of his hand nearly touched his wrist, and forward until his palm almost did the same.

He could bend it sideways beyond a right angle; the sheer range of motion in his joints surpassed human limits.

He then extended his arm straight, bending his elbow backward to an extreme degree, and swung his arm in a large circle, achieving a perfect straight line without any deviation outward.

It was certainly a skill that would make any martial artist's eyes widen, swordsman or not.

If one's joint mobility could be expanded to such an extreme degree, the number of possible movements would surely increase by the thousands.

However, in this respect, Qing fell short of being a true martial artist. She could only use what she already possessed; she knew nothing about application.

"Ooh. Street performance," Qing commented. "Last time you were selling books. Do you sell medicine too, by any chance?"

"Street performance! Street performance, she says! Do you take me for some cheap medicine peddler? Can't you tell even after seeing this? I'm offering to teach you such a formidable Divine Art for free!" Cheon Yuhak exclaimed.

"Hmm. Even if I were tempted, I can't serve two Masters, can I? It's a shame, but I'll have to let someone else have the chance," Qing replied.

"Aigoo! Have you ever seen such a stubborn, blockheaded wench! How can such an idiot exist in this world!"

Cheon Yuhak pounded his chest repeatedly.

Watching him, Qing thought he might actually bruise himself—the blows were that fierce, bordering on self-harm.

"Hmm. If you possess such great Divine Arts, surely you can find disciples other than me?" Qing asked.

"Hmph! If I hadn't seen you, perhaps. But who in the world, having seen the most precious raw gemstone, would deliberately choose something else!"

"Hehe. I'm not that great…" Qing scratched the back of her head, embarrassed.

Her reaction only infuriated Cheon Yuhak further.

Yet, at the same time, his determination surged.

At first, he thought she was just a girl with a good eye, sharp enough to recognize a secret manual. Then, he thought she was just incredibly agile, the best under heaven.

But after putting her through the Sword Hand Training, he realized she possessed every single quality needed by a Divine Thief, packed to the brim—the ultimate talent.

And look at that loyalty!

If she showed such devotion to her current Master, she would surely do the same after Cheon Yuhak took her in.

How could he not covet her?

Even if he tried to raise someone else as his successor now, the thought of her would linger, and a future filled with regret was already set in stone.

"Hmph. Just you wait," Cheon Yuhak muttered.

"You don't have to watch me… Well then, I'll be going." Qing gave a quick bow and retreated.

Henan Province cuisine is characterized by incorporating features from all four cardinal directions—east, west, south, and north.

In other words, you could call it a jumble lacking its own unique Henan identity.

Still, if you had to pinpoint a culinary style (caifeng [^(caifeng) Regional cooking style]), rice was the staple, but never eaten plain white—always made into fried rice. Noodles were also predominantly rice noodles.

And perhaps the greatest love for onions in the Central Plains.

In short, it was quite inconvenient for eating with a dagger.

Proper fried rice meant each grain was separate, not sticking together, and the onions were thinly sliced.

Qing carefully balanced the fried rice on the blade of her dagger and lifted it towards her head. Naturally, a shower of rice grains rained down onto the table.

Tilting her head back, she stuck out her tongue and tried to tip the rice into her mouth. Out of ten grains lifted, four fell on the table, three scattered across her face, and only three actually made it into her mouth.

Honestly, Peng Daesan had only commented once at the beginning. The main reason he didn't say more was that the sight of an unparalleled beauty making such a mess was actually quite entertaining.

But watching Namgung Shinjae do the same thing was becoming unbearable.

"What on earth are you doing at the dinner table? Brother Namgung, why are you doing this too?" Peng Daesan lamented.

Namgung Shinjae was struggling with his longsword, and just seeing the blade moving back and forth over the table was unpleasant enough.

"Hmm. I saw my Sword Brother doing it, and this training is definitely effective. You experienced it yourself today, didn't you?" Namgung Shinjae replied.

"There's no guarantee that was because of this training, hmm," Peng Daesan said. "Elder Sister. Why are you holding your dao? I—I trust that you are not."

"Thinking about it, I realize how lazy I've been. Calling myself a Daoist Gentleman, claiming to be married to the Dao... it's utterly shameful. Hmm. Watching Qing-ah, I think I understand. Every single moment, even breathing, should be part of training."

Peng Daesan's expression crumpled.

Come to think of it, Peng Choryeo was also quite renowned for not being entirely sane.

She was only treated as everyone's elder sister because she was the Jade Qilin's sibling; fundamentally, she was a Dao-obsessed, sword-crazy, training maniac.

"What in the world is this turning into?"

Peng Daesan let out a deep sigh and reached with a large pair of tongs for a hefty piece of Dongpo pork. Just then—

"Yahp!"

With a cute shout, a throwing dart suddenly flew out and pierced the Dongpo pork.

Then, following the string attached to the dart, the chunk of meat soared through the air and landed neatly on Tang Nanah's plate.

"Hmph, this is why choosing the right weapon matters. Look here. Isn't this convenient?" Tang Nanah remarked.

What she held in her hand was actually a long needle, essentially no different from a thin chopstick.

Peng Daesan looked at Tang Nanah and thought.

She gets more grating every time I see her. Hmm? Or maybe not?

Peng Daesan was momentarily confused.

Come to think of it, she was already grating when they first met, going on about being the main wife or whatnot. Perhaps she was just consistently grating, unchanged.

Peng Daesan sighed and reached out with the tongs again.

"Yahp!"

And again, the throwing dart stabbed into the meat. Thwack.

"...What are you doing?" Peng Daesan asked.

"Giving it to Qing-ah," Tang Nanah replied. "Qing-ah, eat this. Training is good, but a person needs to eat first. Here, here."

With practiced skill, she swung the string and deposited the chunk of meat onto Qing's plate.

"...I'm going to lose my mind."

Peng Daesan rubbed his face.

And there was one more person losing her mind.

Qing herself.

Qing loved stuffing her mouth until her cheeks bulged and chewing heartily.

But constantly shoveling tiny bits of fried rice with a dagger was beyond frustrating.

Finally unable to bear it, Qing reached her dagger towards a Flatbread.

This was Guo Kui Flatbread, one of Henan's representative dishes, characterized by being baked stuck to the inside of a stacked kiln.

Qing stabbed the bottom of the flatbread with her dagger, gently lifted it, and took a large bite. Ang.

She wriggled her lips, trying to work the bread further into her mouth, but the Guo Kui flatbread, known for its crispy exterior, refused to be eaten easily.

Then, the accident that followed stemmed purely from habit.

When the piece of bread she held in her mouth threatened to tear along the bite mark and fall, Qing, who loved chewing with her mouth stuffed full, instinctively tried to push it back in with her hand.

Only, the 'hand' was holding a dagger. She thrust the tip straight forward, and the famed dagger, renowned for its sharpness, slid effortlessly into the flatbread without meeting any resistance. Jjuuuuk!

Clang! Along with the sound of the dagger falling—

"Ack!"

It was a scream filled with panic and pain.

Instantly, the gazes of the one struggling with a sword, the woman struggling with a dao, and the remaining man and woman snapped towards Qing.

Qing had her hand clamped over her mouth, but bright red blood was streaming down from beneath it.

Not dripping—streaming.

"Qing-ah! What, what's wrong!" Tang Nanah cried out.

"I bi' my 'ongue."

Roughly meaning, I stabbed my tongue.

Judging by the amount of blood, she must have stabbed it quite badly.

But Qing kept her eyes lowered, unable to lift her gaze, her face flushed crimson. It seemed her embarrassment outweighed the pain.

Realizing it wasn't a major injury, Peng Daesan felt a wave of relief, but then couldn't suppress a sigh, which escaped loudly.

I knew this would happen, he thought.