I Am This Murim's Crazy Bitch-Chapter 293: Transcendent Qing (30)

With a graceful leap using antigravity footwork, Qing soared up—tak!—and landed lightly. Gasps erupted all around her.

Of course, the commoners’ eyes were set somewhere around ankle level, so it wasn’t like they recognized the rare footwork that rose and fell with absolute elegance.

But having witnessed such otherworldly, immortal-like movement with their own eyes, the people around her folded their hands and started murmuring, “Heavenly Lady,” “Celestial Maiden.”

Qing stepped forward with confidence, and the crowd split left and right to open a path.

It wasn't quite on the level of parting the sea, but it was an impressive enough sight.

As Qing walked forward with sharp, ringing tak tak footsteps, people followed behind her, dazed, as if under a spell.

Watching this, Geol Taran’s eyes welled up with tears, and emotion swelled in his chest.

The Supreme Heir of the Cheonma leads the people!

Not by tyranny, but through virtue and righteousness, she lays the foundation for conquering the Central Plains—ah, the future of the Cheonma Divine Cult shines bright with glory!

If there was any reason Geol Taran hadn’t already broken down sobbing, it was because of the utterly obscene, seductive sway of Qing’s hips—movement so natural it effortlessly unraveled a man’s soul.

Anyway, pulling himself together with a jolt, Geol Taran pushed through the crowd and caught up to Qing, taking a respectful half-step behind her on the right. Hands clasped, he struck a pose of reverent deference.

It felt like he had become the right arm of the Supreme Heir. He was so overwhelmed by pride and joy that he began to wonder—was this paradise? Had he died and entered the Pure Land? Was it a dream or reality?

“Geol Taran. Which merchant house has the most grain in town?”

“That would be Jangheung Sangbang, of course.”

Jangheung Sangbang.

The same merchant house that took on the construction work, was it?

She’d have to visit them eventually—but not now.

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“Let’s leave them for later. Who’s next?”

“In that case, it’d be Naknyeong Sangdan.”

“Good. Let’s go there. Where is it?”

“Well...”

At that, Geol Taran hesitated, unable to get the words out.

“What? Why?”

“You... went the wrong way. It’s behind us.”

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With the crowd flowing in behind them, turning back would be awkward as hell. She couldn’t very well lead the march with all that bravado and then just turn around with a, “Oops, wrong mountain.”

“What’s up ahead, then?”

“The fourth big gate up there belongs to Daewan Trading Company.”

“Perfect.”

So Qing headed toward the gate of Daewan Trading Company.

In any city, the merchant district was built with wide, solid roads to accommodate multiple wagons. This road could easily fit six freight carriages side by side—and now, it was packed wall-to-wall with people marching forward.

As this wall of humanity advanced, the gatekeepers of the merchant mansions trembled with chilled knees and barely stayed standing. The guards at the first three estates Qing passed sighed in relief. The one at Daewan was praying furiously to Buddha, the Jade Emperor, Heaven, Earth, every god he could name.

But humans must save themselves.

No matter how divine, the gods do not come to rescue people.

“Hello there.”

“Y-yes, ma’am!”

“I’m a girl called Ximen Qing. I came to speak with the owner of Daewan Trading Company. Just a little conversation, really—a good one.”

“D-did you make an appointment...?”

“Oh dear, I’ve been so busy I forgot. But this is urgent business, time-sensitive. Whether he’s the branch lord? Division head? President? Either way, it’s news he’ll want to hear. Could you let me in?”

“I, uh, that’s a bit difficult—”

Qing smiled sweetly.

“Would you like things to become more difficult?”

“N-no, ma’am.”

Numbers always win. Faced with a crowd filling the street, a gatekeeper is just a powerless individual.

The gate opened wide. Qing walked in without hesitation, tak tak sounding out her firm, confident steps.

The people followed in a wave, flooding the vast estate of the trading company—until suddenly, a group of martial artists blocked her path.

“Halt!”

“Sure.”

Qing obediently stopped walking.

“This is a business site of Daewan Trading Company. Even with the state of the city—”

“My name is Ximen Qing. Might I ask your name, honorable hero?”

“Ahem. I am Lee Banjo, first disciple of the Sword of Righteous Inquiry. Miss Ximen, for what purpose have you come here with so many people in tow?”

It was quite common in the Central Plains for merchant houses to donate gold and silver to city officials and then “invite” martial artists to stay as honored guests. It wasn’t that the officials assigned their disciples to stand guard—no, they were always there as guests, having graciously accepted hospitality.

Of course, this was usually how the orthodox sects behaved.

The demonic ones? They took donations like it was owed to them and brought only chaos.

And the orthodox folks? Well—

“If you’re asking why I’ve come, I suppose I should start with my story from the Martial World Tournament.”

Qing launched straight into an unprompted tale.

“Though I’m unworthy, I won the Hidden Dragon Duel, and they honored me with the excessive title of Cheonhwageom. I was on my way back to report the good news to my sect.”

Lee Banjo murmured, “Cheonhwageom...”

Whether it meant the sword of heavenly flowers or the most beautiful beneath the heavens, it suited her perfectly either way.

“On my way back, I entered the city and saw disaster. So I resolved to use my personal funds for a relief effort. But all I have is gold and silver, so I came to ask your master if he might sell me some grain.”

“Ahem. That’s... that’s very noble of you.”

“Indeed. So if the honorable martial artists here would kindly not interfere, and allow us to pass?”

“Of course. You are doing a very good thing.”

For a martial artist of the orthodox sects, just cause was everything.

Which meant they were extremely picky about it—and if someone wanted to pick apart Qing’s excuse, they probably could.

But she had won the Hidden Dragon Duel.

She was known as the strongest of the late-stage Peak warriors, officially recognized by the Martial Alliance as the brightest rising star.

Her alias, Cheonhwageom, carried with it the aura of someone truly favored by the greats.

So there was no benefit in opposing her here. No reason to block a relief effort.

In fact, Lee Banjo went a step further.

“With such admirable intentions, our sect shall stand with you. What are you all standing there for? There might be unrest—disciples, assist the crowd!”

And just like that, he switched sides and stood before the people as if he’d always been there.

Thus, Qing led the march once more, her steps ringing out—tak tak tak—confident and unshaken, as she crossed the trading estate with the crowd at her back.

Thus, they arrived in front of the main hall.

“What is the meaning of this commotion? There was no prior appointment or agreement—what kind of madness is this, barging in unannounced!?”

“I am a girl called Ximen Qing. I know this is rude, but given the urgency of the matter, I had no choice but to intrude. Might you be the owner of this trading company?”

“Ahem. I am the general manager of Daewan Trading Company.”

“I came hoping you might sell us some grain. I wish to launch a relief effort with my own silver and gold. May I speak to the company president?”

“I’ll go ask.”

Had she come in throwing a tantrum and acting wild, it might’ve been simpler. But this was indeed an invasion—yet not with violence, and her demeanor wasn’t aggressive. So the general manager gave a vague reply and slipped inside the building.

Shortly afterward, he returned.

“The company president has agreed. For now, if the young lady would come inside and discuss—”

“No. I didn’t come alone, did I? Everyone here came with me to make this request together. I know it’s an imposition, but I’d like the president to come out and speak here.”

Qing cut him off cleanly.

If all she wanted was a one-on-one negotiation, she wouldn’t have brought a crowd.

She could’ve just walked in quietly alone, let her sword aura glitter a bit, then politely asked—no merchant would refuse a deal like that.

But that only works until they pretend they never agreed. And if someone tries to play games later, it’s a headache. Most of all, she needed to buy a mountain of grain. She didn’t have time to go around begging at every little shop.

If she stormed a few of the biggest merchant houses with a crowd, the smaller ones would naturally fall in line behind them.

“Th-this is problematic. Bringing this many people—it’s no different than intimidation!”

“Intimidation? I told you—it’s a request.”

“How could this possibly be a—”

“Oh dear. My sword aura’s flaring up all of a sudden. Manager? Have you heard of sword aura before? It’s something you can only wield from the Transcendent Stage onward.”

Now, ordinary commoners of the Central Plains might not know the names or hierarchy of martial techniques.

But they were very familiar with realms and terminology—thanks to the region’s trash-tier martial pop culture, they grew up learning this stuff by default.

So the general manager’s heart sank the moment he saw that ominous, shimmering starlight glint.

He didn’t need to verify whether that was real sword aura or just a trick—because the martial artists of Righteous Inquiry Sect, who were supposed to be guarding the gate, were now standing behind her with their mouths hanging open, eyes wide with awe, reverence, and shock, fixated on the woman’s sword.

“When will the president be coming out? I’m weak, you see—I can’t hold a sword for too long. Once my arm gets tired, it might swing off in some random direction without me knowing.”

“That—that’s a real threat—”

“Ooh, look at that pillar! So thick! I just have this irresistible urge to slice it down. If I use sword aura, I bet it’ll come clean off, huh?”

Yeah. That was just blatant intimidation now.

The general manager shrieked and panicked.

“I-I’ll fetch him! I’ll go get him now!”

****

The president of Daewan Trading Company was all smiles.

Crisis is opportunity. A disaster of this scale was a once-in-a-lifetime chance for a merchant’s fortune to multiply ten, twenty times—heaven-sent, truly.

Of course, he’d been irritated that morning.

He’d heard rumors that some nobodies from a so-called Taecheong Sangbang—barely even worthy of being called merchants—were distributing relief grain like they owned the place.

But that annoyance had quickly faded.

They were a new branch that had just wormed its way into town. How much grain could they really get their hands on?

Once their stock ran out, that’d be the end of it. After that, grain would become worth its weight in gold—literally.

The poor peasants didn’t have money anyway.

Not that that mattered. If they went into debt, they’d eventually pay up. If they had daughters, he could collect them. If not, he’d sell them off as servants. Or just seize their land deeds. One way or another, it would all turn a fat profit.

That was why merchant branches always sprang up and exploded in scale after large disasters.

But that smile didn’t last long.

“They’re swarming the gate like dogs and demanding to see you, sir. You’ll have to come out.”

“Why the hell did those bastards charge all the way in here!? What are the Righteous Inquiry Sect men doing!?”

“They’ve... joined her side.”

“I gave them how much gold!? You think I paid all that just to have the guards flip sides on me!? How the hell am I supposed to run business if I can’t even count on my damn protectors!?”

Donations weren’t mandatory. But protection money—now that was not optional. If a swordsman demands it, you pay. That’s just how it worked.

The general manager was thinking all this, but he wasn’t dumb enough to say it out loud.

“Call the officials! Bring in the authorities!”

“You can do that later, but what are we supposed to do if they turn violent now? You need to go out there—calm them down, promise something, anything—”

“What the hell am I supposed to say!? If I go out and tell them I won’t sell, I’ll be finished! I won’t be able to set foot in Naknyeong again!”

But it’s not like he could refuse to appear either.

Look at that crowd. One shout, and they could flip into a violent mob in seconds. That’s just how people were in the Central Plains.

So what choice did he have? He’d have to go out there. Stall for time, or try to weasel out somehow.

“What did I ever do to deserve this...”

The president muttered.

Had Qing heard him, she’d have smacked him upside the head a thousand times over.