Qing sighed deeply.
âRound and round we go, back to my breasts again...â
Qing looked at Murong Jun quietly.
His pure eyes sparkled with expectation.
âHmm.â
Qing tilted her head crookedly.
Is he doing this on purpose?
âBut why the breasts of a stranger beggar, damn, that sounds so wrong. Well, donât you have an older sister or something?â
âUm, I do have an older sister...â
âIs she pretty? No wait, thatâs not it. Then-â
âMy sister is very pretty! But donât you know my sister? Sheâs very famous. Among the Five Flowers of Murim, the Golden Sun Sword Flower is my sister.â
âThen why donât you go ask your sister, why. Hmm, wait. Why am I saying this? Anyway, why are you leaving aside family and- no. Huh. Thatâs more strange, huh?â
Qing rambled on and briefly fell into an error.
Is it worse if itâs between siblings? Is it better than strangers?
While Qing was confused, Murong Jun brought up unsolicited stories about his sister.
âMy sister went to meet a friend in Hebei, and weâre going to wait here until my sister and her friend come, then go to Kaifeng together.â
âThen, to that sisterâs friend- No. This is a bit strange too. No matter how you go about it, itâs weird. You little one, being so cheeky.â
âThe friend is a man, so...â
âHiya, you really know how to slip out of things.â
Qing admired.
Regardless, Murong Jun continued to bring up useless stories.
âBut my sister has no breasts at all. Sheâs even flatter than Uncle Yu who manages the garden...â
âThen, even if itâs Uncle Yu, if you close your eyes, wouldnât it be similar? Itâs just flesh anyway. Hmm. But honestly, whether itâs you or the uncle, basic human dignity would be hurt either way. But still. Hmm, I feel like Iâm digging myself a deeper hole.â
âBut Uncle Yuâs chest is all muscle. Even in the dead of winter, he says âA real man knows no cold!â and such.â
Qing scratched her head vigorously.
Ah, Uncle Yu wasnât a plump person but someone belonging to the Zhuge department.
But by the way, to be overshadowed by pectoral muscles...
The unknown Golden Sun Sword Flower seemed a bit pitiful.
Of course, in Qingâs experience, thereâs no benefit to having them big.
They always make your shoulders stiff, and when sleeping, no matter what position you take, the pressure is uncomfortable, and when itâs hot, the sweat makes it miserable, so there are absolutely no advantages.
Although this discomfort disappeared after Overhaul Rebirth.
Even so, itâs a big problem as a martial artist.
You canât see the lower part of your vision, making you vulnerable, and it limits the range of arm movements.
Last time, she got half-cut because she unnecessarily took a hit that could have been avoided, just causing pain.
It creates not one, but three fatal weaknesses for a martial artist.
Of course, the Peak-Transcending Ximen Qing is powerful despite this.
Still, she didnât envy the Golden Sun Sword Flower.
But why donât I envy her?
Well, thatâs because my proud breasts-
Hmm...? Why, why am I proud of them?
What good is it for me to have breasts...
It felt like she shouldnât think about it any further.
Qing hurriedly brought up something else.
âBut you donât just listen through that secret passage, you even peek? How do you know your sister has no breasts?â
âNo, I saw when we bathed together during the Mid-Autumn Festival.â
Mid-Autumn Festival is a holiday roughly equivalent to Thanksgiving.
But to think that they would be bathing on Thanksgiving.
Qing burst out laughing.
âMid-Autumn Festival, you say. Itâs not like you go to the bathhouse once every holiday to scrub off dead skin. But the Mid-Autumn Festival? What about the Spring Festival?â
Spring Festival is a holiday roughly equivalent to New Yearâs Day.
âThatâs not it, I asked why my sister, even though sheâs a woman, has no breasts and is flat like a man, but she got angry and since then she wonât bathe with me anymore...â
âYou really drove a nail into your sisterâs heart, huh..â
âSo I canât tell my sister. Sheâll get really angry if I talk about breasts. I think itâs too much, though. My sister doesnât even have breasts...â
The child puffed his cheeks as if dissatisfied.
Itâs not your sister whoâs too much, itâs you.
Itâs an adultâs duty to guide a lost child.
So it was time for Qing to fulfill that duty as well.
This little brat. Just you wait.
Qing began to set up her mental nuclear armament like a dictator.
***Tonightâs dinner was at Xiliang Restaurant for a change.
Xiliang Restaurant always gave generous portions, so their treatment of beggars was really good.
If you just give ten coins and ask for a set meal, theyâll give you a tray filled with the stir-fries they made in large quantities that day.
In fact, business isnât great because the taste is a bit inferior among restaurants.
Instead, they compete with quantity, so itâs a middling restaurant thatâs not doing poorly either.
Their alcohol generosity was especially good.
Even if itâs all sour spoiled alcohol, it can be used as a substitute for vinegar in cooking.
The generosity of pouring spoiled alcohol into a bowl because itâs spoiled is a virtue hard to see in businesses.
But whatâs worrying is...
âThe Flower Beggar has come again.â
âFlower Beggarâ is what they call Qing at Xiliang Restaurant.
In fact, Xiliang Restaurant isnât just being nice to Qing out of generosity.
Itâs because when they bring food, she stuffed herself so deliciously (itâs not an insult, âstuffedâ is the accurate expression) that quite a few customers come in, fascinated by that sight.
Thanks to this, they wanted her to stay longer, so the amount of food they gave Qing was gradually increasing.
Qing, not knowing the circumstances, just thought the hospitality was getting better because she was a regular customer.
Qing knew nothing but the way of beggars.
âItâs starting to get hot these days.â
âYes, itâs completely spring during the day now. Well, shall I bring you a set meal again this time?â
âYes, please.â
Damn, I shouldnât get too close with them.
But it was not because Qing wanted to; it was just that while she was pretending to be a beggar to avoid making connections in preparation for assassins, she ended up becoming familiar with other people.
Should I stop coming here too now...
Hmm, having these thoughts makes me feel a bit...
This makes me seem like those kind of people.
For reference, in Qingâs homeland, there were extremely introverted solo diners who would quietly stop visiting when the staff started recognizing them because it made them uncomfortable.
To Qing, it seemed like an overreaction since you could just exchange a few greetings, itâs not like you have to chat with the staff the whole time, but to each their own - everyone has their own struggles and the size of those struggles differs.
The server brought a tray with a mound of barley-rice-bran mixed steamed rice, various stir-fried vegetables, and a large bowl of alcohol-
My goodness, they gave two bowls!
Qing smiled.
She was in the middle of heartily devouring her meal with some drinks when...
Crash, bang, clatter.
There was a commotion inside the restaurant, followed by hurried footsteps approaching.
Soon, customers rushed out urgently, some pale-faced and others with smiles on their lips.
The former were people who were surprised, and the latter were those already accustomed to the common inn disturbances in Jianghu, happily thinking someone was trying to dine and dash.
From inside the restaurant came the clang of blades clashing.
Qing frowned deeply.
What kind of people are fighting with blades in a cheap restaurant where you donât even need to spend a silver sycee to eat your fill, not a fancy inn, tea house, or specialty restaurant?
Iâm so curious. Letâs quickly go and watch.
Qing crept stealthily into the restaurant.
The stealth technique Qing learned from the Demonic Cult, Black Shadow Stealth, was a whopping Red-grade technique.
It was a skill that even the server crouching behind the long table under the single seats could hardly detect.
âWhatâs going on here?â
âWalla! You startled me! Ah, itâs the Flower Beggar? Ahem, why are you here again? Donât embarrass yourself and stay outside.â
The server, whose tone only becomes dignified when speaking to Qing, let his original accent slip out for a moment due to surprise.
âWatching fights is the most fun, isnât it?â
âFights are one thing, but what would we understand watching Murim Masters fight? Itâs only fun to watch thugs fighting on the street.â
He meant that only low-level fights are fun to watch.
Qing nodded in agreement.
âTo me, thugs or these guys are all the same. Hmm. So anyway, whatâs going on?ân/oÌ/vel/b//jn dot c//om
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