I Am This Murim's Crazy Bitch-Chapter 284: Transcendent Qing (21)

The coachman, contrary to expectations, turned out to be a real coachman. So, barring the part where he overcharged them a little and took the long, roundabout road instead of the faster one, the journey could be called uneventful.

And also... dreadfully boring.

Seriously. I’m going to die of boredom.

Thanks to the rain, we were stuck inside the carriage, and that Seol girl barely spoke a word, making her absolutely useless for killing time.

Sure, she had a pretty enough face and looked entirely soaked through, which made for something nice to look at, I guess.

She’d apparently stopped circulating her cold Qi to prepare for any unfortunate incidents, meaning she was now enduring the heat head-on—and completely drenched in sweat for her trouble.

After one day, then two, by the third, it seemed she finally couldn’t take it anymore. Without a word, she plopped herself down beside me.

Then she grabbed my hand without hesitation and pressed it straight against her cheek.

“Oh?”

What’s this? Some kind of seduction tactic?

But Seol Iri looked like someone who had just stepped into a sauna. Sweat dripped from her chin, plopping onto my hand as she guided it to her face. The stickiness instantly soaked my fingers.

“If you’re going to use someone’s hand like that, shouldn’t you at least wipe your sweat off first?”

“It’s me again.”

I deciphered her three words.

Basically, whether she wiped the sweat or not, it was going to end up on my hand anyway, so why bother.

My hand is cold.

The “yin” in my inner technique, after all, leads to a body that’s like tempered steel. In the late peak stage, I had weak defense equivalent to low-tier Golden Bell Armor, but now that I’m in the early transcendence stage, I’m practically clad in full-body armor—front, back, and sides.

Of course, that came at the cost of losing warmth.

But to someone overheated like her, this chill was a godsend.

“If it’s too hot, you’re allowed to use your cold Qi.”

“It’s dangerous.”

“You’ve got me, though.”

“A martial artist must protect themselves.”

“Oh?”

Now that’s the most sensible thing I’ve ever heard come out of her mouth.

She had a point. Relying entirely on others for comfort and letting your internal energy handle all the hard work isn’t the right mindset for a true martial artist.

Still, I personally preferred Seol Iri the way she always was—useless and just sort of... there.

There are only so many bad guys in the world. If too many people start doing the slaying, my slice of the action shrinks.

“Well then. Hyap.”

I slapped my palm against the back of her neck and activated the Great Yin Jade Maiden Divine Art.

She jolted hard, shivering once from head to toe. Her shoulders scrunched, and a breathy moan escaped her lips.

“Haaaah...”

She was clearly enjoying herself.

Good? Then that’s enough. Can’t have her getting spoiled.

When I stopped the cold Qi, she gave me that lingering, regretful look.

I ignored it completely.

At least she didn’t start whining or begging. Seol Iri might’ve been useless, but she did have a bit of decency left in her.

If I bought her something, she bowed and said thank you. Maybe because she’s penniless, she never asks for anything. If she’s disappointed, she just sits there, quietly disappointed.

When I booked us an inn, she stayed with me. If I’d kicked her out and told her to go her own way, she’d have waited for me outside in the rain without complaint.

Ah.

That’s when I remembered—

Right. She wasn’t even a real travel companion.

She was just clinging to me like a leech, hoping I’d lead her to that bastard from the Seol Clan.

Hmph. Well, whatever. She’s cute.

And while she doesn’t talk much, when spoken to, she does at least answer.

“Miss Seol, I’m bored. Tell me a bit about the North Sea. What’s it like up there? Super cold?”

“No.”

I blinked.

Wait, what? I asked if it was cold, and she just said “no”?

It took me a second to realize she was refusing to tell me anything about the North Sea.

The day was hot, the air humid, and my hand was still soaked with someone else’s sweat while resting on the back of her neck. My irritation was already near the boiling point. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

“What the hell is your problem? We’re on a trip together, right? You eat with me—okay, we eat together—and travel with me, but you won’t even talk? Do you hate talking to me? Do you hate traveling with me? Are you just putting up with me right now?”

Seol Iri’s eyes widened. She looked a little... wistful.

“That’s not it...”

“Then what is it? You clearly don’t want to talk to me right now.”

“No.”

“Oh yeah? So you do want to talk to me?”

“No.”

My eyebrow twitched.

Then she quickly added,

“But I don’t hate it.”

So basically, she didn’t particularly want to talk, but she didn’t mind it either.

Still, she refused to talk about the North Sea.

I shot her a sharp look. She normally held my gaze without flinching, but this time she subtly averted her eyes—probably staring at my mouth or the tip of my nose instead.

She was so lacking in social skills, it made me reflect on my own behavior.

Is this what they call mirror therapy?

I sighed, calming my irritation. Then a thought struck me.

Wait. Could it be that she’s ashamed of her hometown?

Maybe asking if it was cold up there was actually kind of rude?

In my own hometown, if you asked the kids who lived off potato stew whether they planted potatoes in the front yard, backyard, and all around town, they didn’t take it very well.

Turns out they did, and that just made them madder because they had no comeback.

Or like asking someone from Orange Island if they just lived off tangerines, or asking a friend from a port town, “Wow, your town sells fried chicken and alcohol? I thought it was all noodles and rice soup!”

That kind of thing.

Hmm. The North Sea probably has its own appeals. People wouldn’t live there otherwise.

Maybe asking if it was cold came off as ignorant?

“Well... can we talk about something else then? Miss Seol, what kind of food do you like? You must have preferences, right?”

“Hot food.”

“That’s... a little broad.”

“Porridge.”

“And?”

She clamped her mouth shut again.

My eyebrow arched.

Then she hurriedly blurted out,

“I don’t know the names...”

Ah.

Right. She’s flat broke.

And not the kind of person who would bother asking a cook or a waiter, “What’s this dish called?”

She’s the kind who just eats whatever’s served. If it rains, she gets wet.

“Well, if you don’t know, you can learn. Next time you eat something delicious, ask me what it is. You gotta know what your favorite food is, right?”

She blinked.

Then gave a polite little bow.

At least she’s got some manners.

And a pretty face. That helps.

Just as I was about to let her off the hook again—

THUNK!

The carriage shook violently, rocking hard left and right, the whole thing rattling like it was falling apart.

“Mister Coachman? What’s going on?”

“Oh dear! Must be the rain. The road’s a mess, totally washed out. I’m doing my best, miss, but from here on out the road’s completely unpaved. Nothing to be done.”

“Ah... okay.”

What could I do? Coachmen don’t pave roads.

“Just a bit more patience! We should reach the next village in about half an hour. You must be starving since it’s already past dinner. But don’t worry, it’s a generous little place—you’ll be well satisfied. Heheheh.”

As we jolted and bounced and even tilted backward like we were climbing a steep hill, all hope of conversation evaporated. At this rate, talking would just get my tongue bitten off.

Not that I struggled, of course. My balance and core strength were superhuman.

But Seol Iri bounced back and forth, once crashing into me, then smacking her shoulder into the carriage wall, fluttering about like straw in the wind.

I watched her and thought—

What kind of so-called peak-stage martial artist can’t keep her balance in a shaky carriage?

Maybe she’s technically advanced, but her real skills are trash?

Then again, she’s a tracker from Binggung. The Seol bastard wasn’t weak, and they sent her after him, so she must be stronger.

But then again...

What kind of sect sends such a clueless, useless girl on a criminal pursuit mission?

Even if Seol was tough when he escaped, if he was just some mid-tier nobody back then, they might’ve figured she’d be enough to take him down.

Still, if she worked at Binggung, there’s no way they’d send someone this incompetent.

Ah!

It hit me.

They probably just sent her out for the experience! Let her roam Murim, see the world, become a real person! No real danger as long as she stayed near the Murim Alliance, right? Learn a bit of Central Plains culture while she’s at it!

Meanwhile, the carriage kept shaking like someone was trying to evenly season the passengers like spice rub, yet somehow didn’t flip over. I guess that’s what makes a good coachman.

I scooted to the opposite side and watched Seol Iri get thrashed around like a ragdoll. Her useless form flopping back and forth was honestly... kind of entertaining.

Then, after a full hour of that mess, my transcendent ears picked up voices outside.

—“Halt! Ah, it’s you, Jangga?”

—“Heheh, yes, sir, it’s me.”

—“What the hell took you so long?”

—“Oh, don’t even ask. The rain’s a nightmare, roads are worse. I’m just lucky the carriage didn’t flip over, sir, hehe.”

—“Hmph, fine. Open the gate!”

We’d arrived. A “generous” village, he’d said.

Honestly, didn’t look promising.

I didn’t care much for generosity—I cared about food and lodging quality. Generosity means nothing if the food sucks. I’d rather pay more and eat something good than fill my stomach with garbage.

The carriage stopped, and the shaking finally ceased.

Oh? Already?

Looks like the inn’s right near the entrance. Convenient location.

Then the door flung open—and the musty stench hit me like a slap.

Ugh. Not a good sign. The smell already sucks.

As I was worrying about the quality of the inn, the coachman piped up.

“We’ve arrived, miss. Please, step into the inn.”

“Is there another one? This one already smells weird. Are you sure it’s decent?”

Coachmen getting kickbacks to bring customers to certain inns? Totally normal.

Which means it’s not the best inn—it’s the one that paid him.

“Oh no, miss, this is the only inn in the village. Come now, after that mountain road, you must be exhausted. Please rest.”

“Ah. Right. Sure.”

Only one option, huh? No helping it.

I stepped out of the carriage—and what the hell is this?

It wasn’t a stable. It was a wide open area with nothing but pillars and a roof. No walls.

What do you even call this? A shed? A warehouse?

And then a swarm of people came flooding out—every corner of my vision filled with shirtless, grinning men.

“Coachman?”

He scurried off and wedged himself between them.

“Heheheh, ladies, welcome to Gamsanchae, stronghold of the honorable Green Forest masters! You must be hungry, but don’t worry! ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ They’ll feed you until you burst, and you won’t feel hunger for the next ten months! Heheheh!”

One of the brutes playfully smacked the coachman’s head and burst into roaring laughter.

“Listen to this bastard! ‘Won’t be hungry for ten months!’ Hahaha! I like this guy! Always delivers the goods. And damn—aren’t you two just the most stunning beauties I’ve seen in my life!”

That’s when I realized the truth.

That coachman bastard.

He didn’t just pull a trick.

He drove the whole damn carriage straight into a bandit den.

Ah. I should’ve caught that.

What kind of village sits on top of a winding mountain road?

Villages are built by rivers at the base of hills, or maybe halfway up a slope to avoid government taxes—but not at the peak!

I’d been too busy watching Seol Iri bounce around like a ragdoll.

Now that I thought about it, it was damn obvious.

Coachman, you bastard. You sneaky little...

If only you’d given me a heads-up—I might’ve looked forward to this.

What is this? My birthday? Buddha’s birthday? Some Westerner’s birthday?

Is it Christmas today?

Like in that movie—was it July, or August? Doesn’t matter.

This kind of surprise gift?

I'm touched. Really.