I Am This Murim's Crazy Bitch-Chapter 290: Transcendent Qing (27)

You don’t need a fancy lecture on ecology or anthropology to know—

humans settle near rivers.

Why?

Because—surprise! Humans can’t survive without water!

That’s why cities across the Central Plains are usually built beside rivers.

If it’s a big river, they nestle next to it. If it’s a small one, it runs right through their legs.

Smaller villages are an exception.

They’re often awkwardly perched along mountain ridges—

a trait of the old fortress-style clan villages, designed to fend off raids from neighboring settlements.

But unless they’re that kind of closed-off dump, most towns sit by a river.

Now then—north of Gam Mountain flows one of the three great rivers of the Central Plains: the Yellow River.

To the ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) south runs one of its tributaries: the Nakha River.

As a side note: “Huang He” literally means “Yellow River,” but the character “He” (河) already means the Yellow River.

That’s because when this wretched, primitive writing system was invented, the Yellow River was the only river that mattered.

So calling it the “Huang He River” becomes redundant—like saying “Yellow Yellow River River.”

And Nakha River? Its “Nak” (洛) comes from the same root as the “Huang He,” so together it means:

“Yellow Yellow River Yellow River River.”

A river with a truly absurd name.

—

Once Qing made it down the mountain—

the land had been scoured and buried in mud from the flood,

so she had to half-sit, half-walk beside the wagon, pushing it through the sludge just to reach Naknyeong City.

Now, “Naknyeong” literally means: May the Nakha River remain at peace.

As the name implies, when the Nakha floods, this city gets thoroughly wrecked.

And it had flooded.

“Ah...”

Qing stood with mud caked up to her knees, flaking off in dry clumps, staring at the carnage.

The city walls closest to the river had already crumbled.

The dutiful citizens of the Central Plains were hard at work, clearing debris.

Of course, the wall rubble wasn’t being thrown away—it was being recycled, used as raw material to patch their wrecked homes.

Zero waste. Perfectly efficient disaster recovery.

The flood had smashed through the city gate towers as well.

The gate no longer served any function.

No guards, either—Qing simply rode in, hooves tapping through the gate, and found that on the main road, the left side—closest to the river—was practically leveled.

The right side wasn’t in much better shape.

The few intact buildings were packed with people, sweating buckets as they bailed out muddy water by hand.

And those were the lucky ones.

Most had just collapsed into the street, staring blankly into nothing, faces slack with despair.

The sight put a weight in Qing’s chest.

She’d heard plenty about how seasonal floods were a routine part of life in the Central Plains.

Dig in any old city, and you’d find artifacts, basements, flood sediment—whole layers of civilization buried and rebuilt again and again.

But knowing wasn’t the same as seeing.

And then her thoughts circled back to the stash of gold in the wagon.

Right. What the hell am I gonna do with all that gold anyway?

And honestly—nothing feels better than acting generous with someone else’s money.

But even with good intentions, there was the issue of how.

She had the gold. Now what?

Still, Qing was the kind of person who asked when she didn’t know.

One of her few virtues.

So she was about to do just that—when she stopped.

“Seol Sojeo. Do you, uh... haah. Never mind.”

You should ask someone who knows.

And a girl who spent her life in some ice cave wasn’t going to be much help with flood relief.

So Qing—rarely—decided to think for herself.

Okay. There’s gotta be big merchants or grain traders here, right? I can give them gold, buy out their stock, and distribute food first.

Then prepay a construction firm or large guild to start rebuilding.

Oh, right. There’s bound to be a Righteous Sect officer stationed here.

Someone local’ll know better than I ever could.

So she asked around and learned about Naknyeong’s Righteous Sect branch—Naknyeong Wuguan.

What a hometown name.

Qing headed toward the Naknyeong Wuguan by wagon.

Well, the horse did most of the work.

At crossroads, it would slow down, and Qing would tug the reins to pick a direction. That was it.

While slowly (because she didn’t know how to go fast) moving along, she spotted a large crowd gathered in an open square.

From the coach seat, Qing could see a boy hanging from a tree—barely breathing, feet balanced on something.

She stood up for a better view.

The boy was standing on a man’s shoulders.

And their faces—uncannily alike.

Father and son.

The boy’s neck in a noose, feet digging into his father’s shoulder just to stay alive.

People were throwing mud, stones—anything—at the father.

He took every hit, swaying and staggering, but kept his posture, keeping his son’s windpipe barely open.

Qing didn’t look at people the same way others did. freёnovelkiss.com

She didn’t see them in 3D.

She saw karma points.

Numbers floating above their heads.

That let her judge their actions, not their expressions.

Father and son.

Twenty-one points of wicked karma. One point of virtue.

Just average folks.

But still—who knew what lay beneath?

Qing hopped lightly off the wagon.

Seol Iri awkwardly started to follow—grabbing the frame, leaning forward, moving her legs—

“Ah. Seol Sojeo, just stay here. You're in no shape to be walking. Sit down and rest.”

“...Okay.”

From what Qing had seen, Seol Iri’s entire outer layer was one massive bruise.

Her muscles had to be wrecked too.

She was trying so hard not to show pain it made her look almost pitiful.

Almost.

Qing turned her attention away and rested a hand on one of the bystanders’ shoulders.

“Hey. What’s going on? Why is that man hanging there like that?”

“Hey, what the—why are you—whoa.”

The man tried to snap back but made the mistake of turning and seeing Qing’s face at close range.

And then suffered the full brunt of her dangerous beauty.

Qing’s beauty was hazardous.

It made hearts beat erratically.

It spiked blood pressure.

It had side effects.

Physically toxic. Psychologically worse.

If a married man saw her?

He’d go home, look at the dried-up fish jerky lying in his bedroom, and weep.

“What’s going on?”

“Ahem. Well, you see. That guy’s the one who designed the Nakha River flood controls.”

The man deepened his voice, for some reason thinking it would make him sound impressive.

“And?”

“He bragged that it’d hold for a thousand years!

But one downpour, and boom—every single dam and dike gave way.

If he hadn’t touched it, the river would’ve just overflowed like usual.

But no, he had to build a floodgate.

That dammed the river, the water rose past its limit, the gate burst,

and then everything came crashing down at once!”

Apparently, starting late last fall, there had been new flood-control construction on the Nakha.

They’d built gates and embankments.

That was the problem.

If they’d left it alone, the river would’ve spilled its banks as usual.

But the new floodgates stopped the flow.

Rain pushed the water level higher and higher—until it blew the gates apart.

Then the dikes followed.

And a city-wide disaster unfolded.

Even the shattered city walls testified to the scale of the catastrophe.

“I see. So the father did the engineering?”

“Yes.”

Just one point of virtue.

But even that was enough to mean the child wasn’t to blame.

You can’t let a kid die for that.

“Hmm. Mind moving aside?”

“Huh?”

She asked them to move, but Qing’s arm was already in motion.

With strength like a charging ox, the crowd parted wherever she walked.

So when Qing stepped into the center of the square, all the projectiles—rocks, mud, whatever—came to an instant stop, drawn off-course by her overwhelming beauty.

She jumped up, sliced the rope clean, caught the boy in her arms, and landed with a solid thump.

“I understand you’re angry, truly—but surely this child did nothing wrong?

If there’s a criminal, they deserve punishment. But this boy’s only crime is having the wrong father, isn’t it?”

“Don’t be ridiculous! If the father’s guilty, the son must pay the price too!”

Someone shouted from the crowd.

A murmur of that’s right, serves him right began to spread like fire.

Qing stomped the ground.

The ripple of force through the dirt silenced the crowd.

The ground shook from one stomp.

That woman—already like a fairy from heaven—now seemed even more divine.

Of course, Qing had no intention of defending the father.

River engineering affected lives.

If there had been a fault in the plan, intentional or not, he bore responsibility for the disaster and its casualties.

The flood victims had every right to throw stones, even light the man on fire if they wanted.

But the boy—he’d done nothing.

Now, if the boy had racked up 300 karma points like that bastard Young Master, Qing would’ve happily joined in tossing rocks.

But even one point of virtue was still virtue.

And the truth is, people are easily swayed.

The exact same words, spoken from the lips of someone this beautiful, hit different.

The crowd didn’t exactly agree—but no one shouted her down either. Just a few awkward coughs.

Hmm.

Qing turned to look at the engineer.

The father, who had been desperately supporting his son, looked completely relieved now.

His eyes beamed pure gratitude at Qing.

Twenty-one points of wicked karma.

Qing was starting to get the hang of this karma system.

There was no intent in the points.

They didn’t care whether someone was malicious or just careless.

If people suffered or died because of something you did, you got the points.

Even if you didn’t mean for anything to go wrong.

So for a man involved in a catastrophe of this scale...

Twenty-one points? That was suspiciously low.

He was probably a decent guy, under normal circumstances.

And then—

“F-Fairy Lady! Please save my dad! He didn’t do anything wrong!”

The boy, still coughing, shouted through gasps for air.

When Qing looked at him, he raised his voice again, firm this time.

“The design was strong enough to handle this much water!

If the construction had been done right, nothing would’ve broken!

It’s not his fault—it’s the construction that failed!”

Hmm.

Now that’s an angle she hadn’t considered.

Qing turned back to the man to examine him more closely—

“What does a brat like you know?! Just sticking up for your daddy!

You think that means he’s innocent? String them both back up!”

“Ugh. Seriously.”

Qing drew her sword high into the air.

It gleamed—glittering with a sharp, deadly radiance.

Everyone shut their mouths.

Even to those who didn’t understand martial arts, Sword Qi had a way of slicing straight into the soul.

It made your heart skip, your throat tighten.

It made civilians tremble.

Qing’s little demonstration worked.

The whole crowd fell silent again.

She looked once more at the man.

Twenty-one wicked points.

If the design was sound and he wasn’t involved in construction, would he even have gotten these points at all?

Apparently, he misread the look in Qing’s eyes.

“...Yes. It’s true.”

“What is?”

“That the construction was the problem?”

“My dream was to make my name immortal in the flood-control annals like the great Dukang.

The design could’ve handled even thirty days of continuous downpour.”

“But it still failed.”

“They should’ve started opening the floodgates gradually before the water level rose.

Either someone operated them wrong... or the construction itself was shoddy.”

“Hm. Sounds like a damn injustice. Why didn’t you say that earlier?”

“I did! And then they dragged my son out!”

“Liar! He’s lying! He’s just trying to blame the poor laborers for his own mess—!”

Sparkle sparkle.

Qing relished the power of her Sword Qi again.

Wow. Just one more flick of this and these people would dissolve into silence like that.

But more importantly—

She turned toward the voice that had just shouted.

She extended her sword in that direction.

“Just now? Who said that?

Someone’s been running their mouth this whole time.

If you’ve got something to say, come out here and say it.

Why the hell are you yelling from the back? Come on out.”