I Am This Murim's Crazy Bitch-Chapter 227: Dormant Dragon Martial Contest (9)

“Qing? Where are you going?”

“I just left something behind for a second...”

She didn’t know the full details about the Blood Sect, but she knew they were seriously bad news. Everyone practically ground their teeth at the mention of them—that alone said enough about how serious it was.

So Qing dragged her exhausted body back to the bathhouse.

And when she stepped inside, she found Cheon Yuhak scooping up the now-weakened medicinal bathwater from the wooden tub into a bunch of bamboo containers.

“What are you doing? Is that stuff for reuse or something?”

“As if I’d do that.”

“Then why are you bottling it? That’s a lot. You gonna pour it all out somewhere?”

Bamboo containers were scattered around Cheon Yuhak in all directions. There was more than enough to hold every last drop of water from the tub.

“None of your business. Anyway. Aren’t you tired? Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“You know that Sleepfire Pill? I checked into it—it’s made from blood crystal. And blood crystal, well...”

“You think I don’t know what blood crystal is?”

Cheon Yuhak roughly scratched the back of his head. His hand reeked of irritation.

“Goddamn it, this is filthy. Some bastard sprayed human alchemy pills made from fake godly ingredients. Whoever that asshole was, they were dead set on smearing shit on someone else’s face.”

“Couldn’t we just ask the unaffiliated martial artists? That Do So-hyeop guy seemed like he’d cooperate.”

“Go to sleep first. Your tendons still haven’t fully reattached. Get some real rest, and we’ll talk tomorrow. I was so worn out I didn’t even notice you came in until way later—that says it all, doesn’t it?”

Cheon Yuhak had visible dark circles under his eyes. He looked completely spent.

Qing didn’t look much better from his point of view either.

While she might not have felt mentally tired, her body was already falling apart. If not for the lingering effects of the medicinal bath, she’d have collapsed from exhaustion long ago.

“But it’s kind of a serious issue...”

“Pfft. Half of the Ten Martial Elites are here—what could possibly go that wrong? Looks to me like the Blood Sect just wants to crash the Murim Tournament and embarrass someone publicly. Blood Sect, my fucking ass.”

Cheon Yuhak’s already tired expression crumpled even further.

“Let’s just sleep for now. Even if it’s urgent, we can’t do jack in this condition—and it’s not like we’re minutes away from a disaster. The godly ingredient stuff should be handled by the godly ingredient people anyway. Just don’t go blabbing it around.”

“It’s not like I’m a kid who can’t tell what should and shouldn’t be said. You’re tired too, Master. Get some sleep.”

“Right.”

With that, Qing headed back to Wucheon Pavilion.

And then a stray thought struck her: What was with those bamboo containers anyway? She’d meant to ask while they were talking about the Sleepfire Pill, but it completely slipped her mind.

The unaffiliated martial artists were staying at the Guest Pavilion of the Murim Alliance, so Qing didn’t need to wander all over Kaifeng looking for them.

“Come to think of it, how do you just go in and out of the Murim Alliance so freely, Master? Are you here as a guest?”

“Heh. Just wear a plain linen outfit like a servant and you can walk in anywhere. Get yourself one of those outfits the errand boys wear, and the whole estate is your playground.”

Basically, the larger the estate, the less people questioned anyone in servant attire.

It wasn’t because identity verification was lax in the ancient and primitive Central Plains—it was just that people tend to mentally categorize anyone in certain clothing as part of the scenery.

Hell, even back in Qing’s hometown, you could go anywhere in a reflective vest and no one would bat an eye.

With the two of them stuck together, they looked like a young lady walking around with her personal servant.

Which is probably why not a single person stopped to ask who Cheon Yuhak was.

Eventually, they arrived in front of the Guest Pavilion.

The Guest Pavilion was a mid-tier lodging among the Alliance’s various guest quarters, which meant compared to Wucheon Pavilion where Qing stayed, it might as well have been heaven and earth.

“Is Do Raeman So-hyeop in?”

She asked one of the Pavilion’s servants, who led her to the room. It wasn’t even a single—just a two-person shared room.

It had beds pushed against both walls, and the space was maybe a quarter the size of Qing’s room back at Wucheon Pavilion.

“Miss Ximen? What brings you here?”

“I wanted to speak with you about yesterday. And you—are you the one who used the Earth Palm Fist...”

“I’m Ma Yeongjeon.”

Since it was a shared room, someone besides Do Raeman was there: Ma Yeongjeon of the Earth Palm Fist.

Ma Yeongjeon flashed a strange smile, glancing between Qing and Do Raeman.

“So this is a private conversation. I suppose I’ll take the hint and give you two some space. Didn’t expect Do So-hyeop to have such skills.”

“Brother Ma, it’s not like that. Uh. ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) You don’t really have to leave. Miss Ximen probably came to talk about the Sleepfire Pill from yesterday, right?”

At that, Ma Yeongjeon’s face stiffened.

“Hey—don’t just blurt that out. I don’t know anything, so I’ll just be going.”

He tried to slip out, and Qing could immediately tell: he’d taken it too.

In fact, she’d already pretty much guessed. All the unaffiliated martial artists had taken a serious Karma hit, after all.

You eat people, and of course your Karma’s gonna tank.

It didn’t matter whether they knew what it was or not.

Just because you don’t know something’s poison doesn’t mean the poison gives you a pass. Poison doesn’t go, “Ah, you didn’t know I was toxic? Okay, I’ll spare you.”

“Would you like to hear it too, Ma So-hyeop? Yesterday, I received a Sleepfire Pill from Do So-hyeop. I was curious about its effects and looked into it. Turns out it’s an evil concoction made from blood crystal.”

“...Blood crystal.”

Do Raeman didn’t exclaim—he muttered it under his breath.

His face paled, looking sick to his stomach.

“I didn’t know. I really didn’t know it was something like that.”

“I’m not blaming you. It’s not like it helps to spread the word, either. I just want to find out who’s distributing them and why. Ma So-hyeop, would you hand over yours too? We should check if it’s the same kind.”

“I—I don’t know anything. A Sleepfire Pill made from blood crystal? Do So-hyeop, I didn’t take you for that kind of person. I’m honestly... really disappointed. Yes. Disappointed.”

Qing narrowed her eyes.

“So you’ll only hand it over if I go hunt down every opponent you’ve fought and ask them about your freakish speed and strength?”

“A true martial artist is supposed to hide at least thirty percent of their ability—”

“I already know everything. Just hand it over.”

She cut Ma Yeongjeon off and held out her hand.

He stared at her pale, elegant hand with trembling eyes, then gulped and seemed to make up his mind.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

So in the end, he was going to pretend he didn’t know anything.

To be honest, Qing couldn’t press him any further if he took that stance.

She didn’t have hard proof he’d taken the Sleepfire Pill—just strong suspicion. And since that pill was made from something as vile as blood crystal, suspicion alone wasn’t enough.

And even if she wanted to prove it, there wasn’t really a way. Like the Murim saying went, a martial artist hides thirty percent of their true strength. If he just insisted that what they saw was his natural ability, that would be the end of it.

It’s not like she could claim, “I can see a man’s Karma,” and expect anyone to buy that fortune-teller bullshit.

With a heavy sigh, Qing let it go.

There was nothing she could do—and that was that.

Qing gave up on persuading him.

She only gave up on persuading him.

Letting out another sigh, Qing suddenly extended her legs from her seated position and launched into the air.

CRACK!!!

A loud, satisfying crunch like a walnut being split open!

“AAAGH!”

Ma Yeongjeon clutched the top of his head and rolled across the guest room floor, howling.

This was a weaponized headbutt from the New Age’s nuclear arsenal—so violent it had no business existing on the surface world beneath the Sacred Lady’s Peak.

“Why is it no one ever listens when I try to talk first? Do I look that easy to push around? If I act a little composed and polite, do I suddenly seem like some docile pushover?”

“S-Seo... Miss Ximen?”

“I told you, didn’t I? I’m a former rogue.”

“Ah. Right. That... makes sense.”

Do Raeman gave a small nod.

Rogue female martial artists were rare, but when they did exist, they had absolutely foul mouths. It was basically a survival skill—one you had to develop just to avoid being looked down on.

“Ma So-hyeop? Let’s cut the act. Are you going to hand it over nicely now, or do you want to get beaten like a dog and cough it up afterward? If you’re the kind of guy who chows down on pills made from ground-up people, don’t expect me to act civil either.”

“Guh... What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Oh? Still not feeling it? Should we have a little life-or-death match, in the name of my grandfather’s honor? We can make a bet—see if that bright red Sleepfire Pill shows up when we go through your corpse.”

Then Qing casually drew her dagger and let her Qi run wild.

Delighted to finally be let out, her Qi burst forth all at once like a riotous mob—rushing down the channels of her meridians like a sixteen-lane expressway drilled straight through her bloodstream, arriving at her weapon at blistering speed thanks to her internal energy’s enhanced flow control.

Only... the dagger wasn’t there.

Instead, the Green Porcelain Sword had taken its place.

Visit freewёbnoνel.com for the best novel reading experience.

As a result, thick, sky-blue sword energy shot out from the blade like lightning—wave after wave of overwhelming force.

“Let’s see where your cultivation level really stands, shall we? Just a heads-up—if I say even a peak-level expert dies, then they die. You know the Cannibal Demon Lord? He acted tough in front of me once and ended up saying hi to the Buddha on his way to the afterlife. Ever heard that death doesn’t follow a schedule? Or how even ghosts that die with a full stomach look better in the grave? Want to pop another Sleepfire Pill and test that theory out?”

The words alone were terrifying, but it was the raw force behind them that made Ma Yeongjeon shrink into himself.

This wasn’t the same person he’d seen in the martial duel—this was a real monster.

Not just a skilled fighter, but someone with deep and terrifying inner power.

Especially those thick, pulsating sword waves—less like thread (絲) and more like serpents (蛇), slithering outward from her weapon. How could anyone possibly challenge something like that?

“...Fine. I’ll hand it over.”

“There we go. Should’ve done that from the start.”

Qing started putting her sword away, but something pricked her fingers. She glanced down—yep, it was the Green Porcelain Sword.

Because the blade was forged using Minor Demonic Steel, even the slightest graze was enough to sting. If she hadn’t caught it just right, she might’ve sliced down to the bone.

“Oh my. What’s this—someone slipped a dagger in my hand? How odd. I wonder when I’ll get my old dagger back.”

“Ahem.”

Cheon Yuhak, who had been silently watching Qing’s rampage, gave a cough thick with discomfort.

He’d completely forgotten about her... not just about her dagger—but about her rampages.

Come to think of it, she was the same girl who’d once kicked a man in the crotch so hard he flew a full jang into the air at the Black Spot.

She’d rammed into a Black Spot merchant with that same bad temper—but when they’d met again, she’d acted like some perfect little lady, and he’d completely forgotten what she was like.

Qing clapped her hands clean and spoke.

“Well, that worked out. I was planning to ask the other guests in the building to gather, anyway. Since you know their faces, Ma So-hyeop, would you mind doing the honors?”

“Uh... What about Do So-hyeop—”

“You ever heard that saying, ‘come clean while you still can and you might find salvation’? Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. Do So-hyeop can stay right where he is and relax.”

Do Raeman looked visibly uncomfortable. He was clearly wondering: is this bullying, or not? Is she just pressuring him, or not? He seemed to be genuinely trying to figure it out.

Meanwhile, Qing cracked her knuckles and gently rubbed the raised bone at the base of her middle finger.

“Alright then. Ma So-hyeop—no, Ma Dae-hyeop. Want to walk out on your own, or should I smack you on the head and send you out bleeding?”