Chapter 257: Emergence of the Divine Dragon

So that saying about no filial son sticking around for a long illness wasn't just pulled out of thin air.

Seriously, how high is the accuracy rate of these old sayings? Qing mused.

If Seol Ganom, the neighborhood's self-proclaimed top intellectual, had heard her, he would have scoffed, Hmph, ignorant wench.

Why? Because old sayings with low accuracy rates were just nonsense that didn't survive. The ones still passed down originated from universal human habits or psychology.

Back in Qing's homeland, they called this survivor bias. It wasn't that old sayings were unusually accurate; it was just that only the accurate ones survived to be passed down.

Anyway, in Qing's vicinity, there was only one person suffering an illness long enough for Qing to be swallowing these old sayings.

"Young Lady Murong? Aren't you hungry?" Qing asked.

Murong Juhui stared blankly at Qing, then her gaze abruptly dropped downwards. Qing flinched, throwing her arms up defensively.

It was a weakness she'd become painfully aware of lately.

"Ugh."

Murong Juhui recoiled at Qing's reaction and whipped her head away.

Truthfully, Qing felt a pang of guilt while caring for Murong Juhui.

She now realized that resolving resentment wasn't a universally effective method of mental therapy, and felt she had done something regrettable.

Still, Juhui had improved recently. If Qing said, "Let's go wash up," she would follow obediently.

But the mere sight of a bathtub or a large basin made her tremble with fear, so Qing had taken to bringing her along, gently pouring warm water over her, essentially giving her sponge baths.

It was almost like tending to an elderly person.

<Read at Celestial Pavilion>

Perhaps due to this dedication, Juhui hadn't had any violent fits or screamed lately.

So maybe just a little more care is needed, Qing thought. But then—

"Hey. Juhui-yah. You're not coming with us again today?"

"Ah. Choryeo Unni…" Murong Juhui murmured.

"Not eating?" Peng Choryeo continued. "You know, you're supposed to eat more when you're sick. You need to eat hearty meat to build strength."

It was Peng Choryeo.

It was quite something that Peng Choryeo was only now speaking to Murong Juhui, who had been attending every training ground session since her rescue, head buried between her knees.

Peng Choryeo, while kind, didn't naturally pay much attention to others. Since women of the martial world always approached her first because of her famous younger brother, she never needed to initiate.

So, she hadn't paid much mind to Murong Juhui's strange spectating, figuring she was just the same girl who used to trail Peng Daesan everywhere.

Only now that it had gone on for so long did she finally take a bit of notice.

Isn't she acting a little strange? Why hasn't she eaten with us even once? It's not like Qing-ah would bully anyone, nor does it look like bullying. But it doesn't feel like she enjoys just watching either. She seems sick.

At Peng Choryeo's words, Murong Juhui immediately accepted.

"Okay. Thank you for your concern."

She even managed a faint smile!

What's more, she clung tightly to Peng Choryeo's arm, linking hers through it.

"What's this," Peng Choryeo asked, "your arm is so soft, have you lost all your muscle? Have you been starving yourself lately?"

"W-well, a little," Murong Juhui replied.

"You can't do that," Peng Choryeo scolded gently. "You need to eat meat. If you build up strong muscles, you won't get sick. You're sick because you're not eating."

"Yes. I under— understood."

Seeing this, Qing couldn't help but feel a surge of indignation.

Half resentment, half annoyance.

Of course, she hadn't taken care of Juhui expecting gratitude or to be treated like a savior, but she had poured in considerable effort and treated her kindly, only to be ignored.

Yet, when Choryeo, who had shown no interest before, said a single word, Juhui clung to her happily. How could Qing look upon that favorably?

And there she was, occupying a seat at the restaurant table, readily accepting the meat—not various dishes, just meat—that Peng Choryeo diligently served her, gobbling it down like a baby bird swallowing food.

It was a good thing Tang Nanah wasn't there. If she had seen this, she would have exclaimed, What the hell is wrong with her? and yanked her hair—no, sprinkled poison on her.

So, Qing eventually concluded:

What the...? She looks perfectly fine.

Is she just acting up because I've been coddling her, thinking she can get away with it? Is it amusing to watch me fumble around, not knowing what to do?

This must be why they have that saying about never taking in a black-haired beast.

What, is it you again, old saying? Seriously…

Half of her thoughts were like this.

The other half was the realization that perhaps she was hindering Juhui's recovery.

Seeing me must remind her of the underground. If she keeps seeing me and recalling those bad memories, of course, she can't get better.

Combining these two thoughts, Qing finally issued an eviction notice.

"Young Lady Murong, shouldn't you be returning to your family soon?"

"...Huh? Why, why?" Murong Juhui stammered.

"Well, your family must be worried," Qing explained. "And seeing you today, yes, it must be difficult seeing my face, right? I didn't think of that. I'm sorry for constantly bringing up bad memories. I really didn't consider it. Hmm. I was tactless, I'm sorry for constantly bothering you."

"No, wait, just a moment. That's not it—"

Murong Juhui reached out as she spoke.

Hey, where do you think you're—! Not falling for that twice!

Qing deftly created distance, defending her weak point.

The first time, when Juhui was being carried, she had simply grabbed onto something in panic, so Qing didn't count it as an attack.

But the second time, hadn't Juhui clearly smirked after seeing her pained reaction? Malicious intent was proven, so it definitely counted as an attack.

Murong Juhui, having swiped futilely at empty air, looked even more hurt than Qing, despite being the failed attacker.

"Young Lady Murong, you shouldn't do that carelessly," Qing said sternly. "Do you know how much it hurts? I won't blame you since it's in the past. Besides, your feet are all better now, aren't they?"

"Not yet! They're not. My toenails haven't fully grown back yet—" Murong Juhui protested.

"Even with family, you rarely show your toenails, don't you?" Qing countered.

"Well, that's…"

Just then, an Ahem sounded from outside. It was an attendant from the Mucheon Pavilion.

"Yes. Please speak," Qing called out.

The attendant announced, "Young Lady Gongson has arrived."

"Ah, really?" Qing exclaimed. "Gosh, I almost forgot what she looked like. Wait, no. I'll be right there."

Then Qing turned back to Murong Juhui.

"I'm sorry for tactlessly shoving my face in front of you all the time. Hmm, if you just bear with it until the finals, I don't think we'll have much reason to see each other after that. I'm sorry about what happened underground. I meant well, in my own way, but I truly, truly didn't know it would traumatize you so much, Young Lady Murong. Well then, I'll assume you'll be heading back."

With that, Qing left the room.

This was the first time she had seen Gongson Yoye since the semi-finals.

<Read at Celestial Pavilion>

As soon as Qing saw her, Gongson Yoye's expression bloomed brightly.

Seeing her undisguised delight, Qing couldn't help but feel pleased as well.

"Yoye! What on earth kept you so busy that you didn't even show your face? I was starting to think you'd decided to turn cold-hearted since we have to fight in the finals."

"Of course not," Gongson Yoye replied quickly. "But, friendship and the finals are separate matters. If I win, hmm, then, we're still friends, right? No, no, no, of course, Young Lady Ximen isn't like that, but it's a rare tournament, and the result… No, no, no, please pretend you didn't hear that."

"Hmm. Quite confident, aren't we?" Qing teased. "Already worrying about what happens after you win?"

"That's not it—" Gongson Yoye started.

"Hey, just kidding," Qing interrupted gently. "As if something like that could damage our friendship. But really, what kept you so busy?"

"Haaa…" Gongson Yoye let out a deep sigh.

"I thought all I had to do was diligently swing my sword, but I've had to pay respects to all sorts of people. I never imagined the clan's long-cherished ambition involved such complicated matters."

She then recounted being summoned here and there for greetings and learning about the complex, under-the-table negotiations to fill the vacant spots among the Ten Great Clans.

"Cheonil, too… It's a mean thought, but sometimes I envied him. Before coming here, I'd never even stepped outside the training ground walls, but Cheonil was rarely ever at the clan estate, always roaming around. But, it wasn't like that at all."

Gongson Cheonil's marriage talks had been finalized. The partner was the eldest daughter of the Sima Clan.

"She's older than me, and, well, to be honest, she's rather plain," Gongson Yoye admitted quietly. "It sounds awful, I know. But I thought Cheonil would be matched with a more beautiful, younger lady."

"A political marriage, I see…" Qing murmured.

"Yes. That's right."

"How's Cheonil taking it?" Qing asked.

"It was a proposal Cheonil brought back. He said he'll do his best. Isn't living together about seeing each other's faces and growing attached anyway…"

Just as Gongson Yoye had lived her entire life within the training grounds, Gongson Cheonil had also lived for the sake of the family's ambition.

"Hmm. If he chose it himself, it's not our place to say anything," Qing said thoughtfully. "But, the Sima Clan? Then, have you perhaps seen her? The Wise Pouch Intelligent Flower?"

"Ah. My new sister-in-law," Gongson Yoye confirmed. "I haven't had a chance to speak with her."

"Well, I hear that this area is quite magnificent." Qing patted her own chest inquiringly.

Gongson Yoye tilted her head. "Not really? When I saw her, it wasn't particularly noticeable."

Qing had heard she always kept them wrapped up and hidden, so she just thought, Well, I suppose that's possible.

After chatting idly for a while longer, Qing cautiously broached the main topic.

"You know… that technique you use, Yoye. Does it use Innate True Qi? Is that right?"

"Ah! How did you…" Gongson Yoye looked surprised.

"Daesan seemed to think so. So it's true," Qing confirmed.

Gongson Yoye nodded. "Since you've sparred with him several times already, you might have sensed the difference in sword power during the tournament match. But, Young Lady Ximen. To be precise, it's not a technique that uses Innate True Qi, but one that can use it. Usually, we don't go that far, so don't worry."

Qing understood immediately. Ah, it's a toggle-on, toggle-off kind of skill.

"But, that shaves off your lifespan, doesn't it?" Qing asked, concerned. "Do you really need to go that far for just a tournament?"

"Just… a tournament?" Gongson Yoye repeated, staring at Qing with disbelief.

"Even if it's for your clan's ambition, I hope you wouldn't use up your life like that, Yoye," Qing pressed on. "Do you need to win that badly? Is there some kind of promise that if you win, you immediately enter the Ten Great Clans?"

"It's not like that, but," Gongson Yoye began.

"If you really feel you absolutely must win, Yoye," Qing interrupted, "you don't need to burn away your remaining life like that. I could, umm. We could fight for twenty exchanges, no, maybe a bit more fiercely for about forty exchanges, and then—"

"Young Lady Ximen." Gongson Yoye's voice turned sharp, her expression icy.

It was a look Qing had never seen before.

When they first met, she had looked downcast and pitiful. Since becoming friends, she had always worn a smile.

"Young Lady Ximen, do you look down on me?" Gongson Yoye demanded.

"Huh? No, that's not it—" Qing tried to explain.

"Then, what is it?" Gongson Yoye cut her off. "Do you pity me? Because I'm a fool who's been locked away in a training ground until this age, ignorant of the world, only knowing how to swing a sword? Is it out of pity? Did Young Lady Ximen ever even consider me a friend in the first place? Or was it just charity bestowed upon a pitiful person?"

Qing was utterly taken aback. "No, I… That's not what I meant. It's just a tournament, and you're risking your life like that. I want you to live a long, long time so I can keep seeing you, Yoye. Burning your life away for something like this feels like such a waste."

"Just. Did you say just a tournament?" Gongson Yoye's anger deepened. "For Young Lady Ximen, yes. With your level of achievement, it must have been just some diversion you could win whenever you put your mind to it."

"Yoye, that's not what I meant—" Qing repeated helplessly.

But Gongson Yoye cut her off again. "But it's not like that for me. I've lived my entire life for this moment. Does it sound ridiculous for a mere twenty-seven-year-old girl to talk about her 'entire life'? Still, however short, it was my entire life, lived solely for this kind of opportunity. But to Young Lady Ximen, it was nothing special? Even though I risked my life."

"Yoye, please calm down for a second," Qing pleaded.

"Looking down on people like this… ha," Gongson Yoye scoffed bitterly. "It figures. Someone like me couldn't possibly make a real friend. Young Lady Ximen? This isn't friendship; it's just playing friends. Why, was it fun dangling some pathetic scrap of friendship for me to cling to? I never begged for friendship, and I am not pitiful."

Qing just felt wronged.

Why, why the sudden outburst?

What did I…? What did I even do?