Chapter 226: Hidden Dragon Tournament

“Hey, Nanah. I picked this up on the way, can you tell me what it is? They called it Jamlamdan.”

“Huh? Jamlamdan? You shouldn’t just pick things like that up! Their effects and side effects vary wildly.”

Cheap Jamlamdan barely had any effect while rapidly consuming one's source energy, making them practically suicide pills. Conversely, renowned high-grade Jamlamdan could grant immense explosive power momentarily, cause minimal damage to one's source energy, or both.

Tang Nanah, who became strict when it came to potentially harmful substances, launched into a lecture before opening the wooden box and frowning deeply.

“What is this...? It’s blood-red!”

“Is red bad?” Qing asked.

“You can make pills red, sure. Peonies, safflowers, goji berries, rowan berries… But usually, you avoid red. If a pill turns out red, they often try to dye it black to hide it. It’s just… unsettling…”

Hearing that, it seemed plausible. The pill Doraeman had given her was a stark, blood-like red, invoking an instinctive aversion, a certain chill just looking at it.

“Hmm. Well then,” Qing said. “Can you figure out if it’s any good, and what the side effects might be?”

“Hmm. Does this need to be done secretly? Can’t you ask the clan elders?” Tang Nanah asked.

“Hmm.”

Qing considered for a moment. Since the name of the Divine Thief was attached to it, if it turned out to be a low-quality item, it could cause problems. If rumors spread that the Divine Thief was distributing vicious, potent drugs, how wronged would her Master feel?

“Yes. Please keep it quiet.”

The next day.

Qing, her entire body swollen and puffy after absorbing the potent elixir, was tightly bound to the torture— ahem—training bed. Slowly, the fear began to creep back in. Once the iron cuffs clamped down firmly above and below each joint, she truly couldn’t even wiggle a finger. It felt like standing at the very top of a free-fall ride back home.

What was I thinking, agreeing to this?
I really shouldn’t have.
Can’t I just ask him to untie me and let me down now?

Just then, Cheon Yuhak dragged over some ropes and began tightly binding Qing to the training frame.

“Master? You didn’t do this before.”

“After last time, I checked the training frame and found the joints on the shackles were loose,” Cheon Yuhak explained. “I have no skill in metalwork, so if it breaks completely, I have no way to fix it. This is the only way to prevent damage.”

He could perform basic maintenance, but he couldn’t repair it if it broke. Fixing it would require sending it to a proper metal shop, and who knew how long that would take, delaying the Lithe Grace Refinement training indefinitely. So, he was reinforcing it another way.

“Honestly, what girl is so damn strong?” he muttered.

“Agh! Can’t you be a little gentler?” Qing protested. “It’s too tight. And this really hurts— what is this?”

“It’s a divine weapon called a Jiaolong Rope. It’ll fit perfectly once the swelling goes down, so just endure it for about two and a half shichen.”

“The torture lasts three shichen and you’re telling me to endure this for two and a half?”

“Once we start, you won’t even notice the tightness anyway. Hoo.”

It turned out there wasn't just one rope. Her arms were bound tightly. Her legs were bound tightly. A thick rope was wrapped around her stomach, and another coiled around her neck. Qing learned another piece of knowledge she hadn't particularly wanted: these weren't just ordinary ropes, but named weapons, specialized martial cords categorized under the terms Sheng (繩) or Suo (索).

“Master, I can’t, I can’t breathe… breathe. Isn’t my neck… too tight?”

“It’s your stomach being squeezed, not your neck,” Cheon Yuhak said. “There’s not enough room in your chest for your lungs to expand, but you should be fine for about three shichen. Probably.”

“Probably? What do you me—mmph!”

No matter how superhuman the body, once gagged, coherent speech becomes impossible. Qing tried to protest by squirming, but she was bound so tightly there wasn't even room for her chest cavity to expand fully. She genuinely couldn't move a hair. If anything, struggling only forced the remaining air out of her lungs. With her belly constricted, her lungs had no space to draw in air effectively.

Breath… I can’t breathe…!

Just as Qing desperately tried to inhale, the training frame bent her joints in the opposite direction of their natural movement. Simultaneously, every joint from her fingertips to her shoulders was wrenched outwards, and the wave of agony that washed over her—

Qing found herself looking at a familiar ceiling. It was the single-room dwelling she hadn't seen in ages, the humble abode of a production worker before she left her past life.

Right, this is what it looked like.
I haven’t thought about it lately, so I’d forgotten.

Then, Qing tilted her head.

But why am I here?

As Qing searched her memory, waves of horrific pain simultaneously washed over her—

Ah. Right. I passed out.

Qing realized her state. The pain had been so excruciating she genuinely wished for death, and it seemed she had momentarily lost consciousness because of it.

Just then. An unfamiliar voice intruded.

-Hiiiik! Huaaargh, eugh, uwaaa!

Qing turned her head. A muscular, long-haired man, having apparently trespassed into her single room, was freaking out all by himself, absolutely losing it.

-Uwaaargh! Uwaaargh…!

It was the Heavenly Demon Soul.

Oing? But what’s wrong with this mental parasite?

It flailed and trembled at the sight of Qing, its eyes unfocused, sounds no longer human escaping its throat.

“What the heck happened to him? Hey?” Qing asked aloud, though no one could hear her.

-Kyaaaaak!

The former Heavenly Demon shrieked like a little girl, burying his face against the floor and covering his ears. Was it true that ostriches bury their heads in the ground when they meet predators? Believing that if they can't see the predator, the predator can't see them. Whether it was a fable or fact wasn't particularly interesting, but the former Heavenly Demon's soul was doing exactly that.

What is this? Why has he become a complete wreck?

Surprisingly, the culprit was Qing!

A person's subconscious cannot tolerate an intruder capable of seizing control of the body. Every single moment Qing was asleep or unconscious, her subconscious had been relentlessly crushing the Heavenly Demon Soul, like popping bubble wrap. The agony of having his soul chipped away over a hundred thousand times had finally caused a complete mental collapse.

But Qing didn't know this. If she could perceive it, it wouldn't be called the subconscious, but consciousness. Not even Great Expert F of psychoanalysis and his disciple and rival, Great Expert J, could have figured it out.[^Great Expert F: Refers to Sigmund Freud, the founder of psychoanalysis.

Great Expert J: Refers to Carl Jung, initially a prominent disciple of Freud who later developed his own theories, leading to a significant professional rivalry.]

Suddenly, Qing's senses sounded an alarm. A signal that she was about to wake up.

“Ah, no…!” Qing thought desperately. Please, just let me stay unconscious a little longer. I hate pain, I was wrong about everything. Please, please…!

Then, a thought occurred to her. Hm? Wait a minute?

Splash!

Ice-cold water hit Qing’s face. If you wondered where such cold water came from at the end of the fifth lunar month, it was because ice shards bought from a merchant also struck her face along with the water.

“Ugh! Mmmph!”

Snapping back to reality, Qing let out muffled sounds past the gag. Cheon Yuhak guessed it was probably a stream of colorful curses. Because he, too, had spat countless muffled curses while undergoing the Lithe Grace Refinement training.

But? Cheon Yuhak paused.

Is it just my imagination…?

However, there was no time for stray thoughts. Lithe Grace Refinement was intensely demanding physical and mental labor, not just for the trainee, but also for the one administering it. Cheon Yuhak focused again, adjusting the apparatus, concentrating on the subtle feedback.

Ah. Should have done this earlier. Ahh, so much easier. Qing thought, observing internally.

Qing lay on the bed, staring at the screen—her view of the outside world. Her pupils trembled so violently that even though the place reflected beyond the screen was clearly the familiar ceiling of the bathhouse, it spun so fast she couldn't recognize it.

Of course, Qing wasn't just idling.

Where do you think you’re going?

Qing instantly focused on her dantian, cutting off the Heavenly Demon Soul’s will. The Sky-Rending Demonic Energy that had been about to surge immediately returned obediently to her dantian.

That demonic energy barely moves a speck when I try to control it, but the moment the mental parasite tries to take over the body, it acts like it owns the place.

However, even when the Heavenly Demon Soul was intact, it was no match for Qing mentally. Now that it had been reduced to an utter imbecile… even if Qing were to die, there would be no need to worry about the Heavenly Demon’s return. The Heavenly Demon Soul might be immortal, but its already collapsed psyche was now incapable of taking over even the body of a weak child.

Thus, Qing watched from the screen as if observing someone else's misfortune, witnessing the agonizing ordeal her own body was enduring. It was actually so boring that time dragged painfully slow. Yet, she couldn't completely let her mind wander, as she had to concentrate on suppressing the demonic energy in her dantian that tried to run wild.

How much time passed like that?

When Cheon Yuhak’s sparsely haired head appeared on the screen removing the gag, Qing shoved the mental parasite deep into the recesses of her mind. She had only entrusted her body to it for about five hours, but her torso felt heavy as lead, and every joint ached unbearably. Still, as the effects of the elixir wore off, the swelling subsided, freeing up space in her chest so she could finally breathe comfortably. Cheon Yuhak’s claim that three shichen would be fine turned out to be correct, which somehow felt unfair.

“Aigoo, I’m dead…” Cheon Yuhak gasped, having exerted all his strength and focus for six hours, collapsing just like last time.

Qing yelled urgently.

“Master!? Untie! Me! First! Can’t you! Rest! After!?”

“Later... I'll untie you later...” Cheon Yuhak mumbled. “You’re too exhausted to move anyway.”

People tense up under pain, so Qing too was in a state where her entire body’s muscles were exhausted; even if she weren't tied up, she'd be sprawled out.

“Still, in a more comfortable position…” Qing pleaded.

“What, you think only you had it rough?” Cheon Yuhak retorted weakly. “It’s harder to untie because I used the ropes. Just stay like that. Yes... I’ll rest my way, you rest yours... let’s just take a nap…”

“Master? The toilet! Number one! Quickly!”

“It’s a bathhouse, what does it matter? Just go…”

Cheon Yuhak, on the verge of passing out, mumbled that and promptly collapsed.

Drrrr-rng. His snoring was loud.

“Damn it, does that make any sense? Master? Master? Hey! Aren’t you going to untie this!?”

And then, only Qing’s desperate voice echoed through the bathhouse.

In the end, unable to catch a wink of sleep while Cheon Yuhak was out cold, Qing dragged her weary body back to Mucheon Pavilion step by painstaking step. As soon as she did, Tang Nanah, who had been pacing the corridor, spotted her and rushed over.

“Qing-ah, where did you pick this up!? Please tell me you’re not involved with this somehow!? You aren’t! Say you aren’t!”

“Why? Is it bad?” Qing replied, her voice hoarse. Yet, beneath the exhaustion, there was a hint of nonchalance.

Tang Nanah seemed relieved, for the moment. Then she continued, her voice rising in alarm.

“Is it bad? That’s a vile, evil device made from Blood Essence! It’s a medicine made by melting people! Where did you pick up something so horrific?”

The easiest way to make Jamlamdan is ‘like cures like.’ That is, using source energy to awaken source energy. Jamlamdan made using Blood Essence is exceptionally effective and puts almost no burden on the user’s own body.

Blood Essence refers to the horrifying technique of dissolving a person's True Source Qi into medicine, a creation of the immortality-seeking alchemists of the Zhou Dynasty. After the fall of the Zhou, records were burned and the alchemists executed to sever the lineage. However, as evil things often do, it somehow tenaciously survived, maintaining its existence.

And there was a faction in the martial arts world that used this Blood Essence as if it were perfectly natural – those bastards known as the Blood Cult.