Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face.
A-Qing also had a plausible plan.
A-Qing drank the poisoned liquor.
First, the fault for that lay with the bastards who poisoned the liquor by threatening the server for unknown reasons. And next, it lay with the inn, for its poor customer service and mismanagement of its staff.
However, A-Qing didn't blame the inn. Because she was going to blame it tomorrow.
After staying the night, she'd order a lavish brunch and then, using compensation for damages as an excuse, enjoy a free feast before leaving.
A-Qing had good reasons for planning such a wicked scheme.
Firstly, she resented the innkeeper, who kept apologizing but never offered anything for free.
Secondly, if she demanded freebies now, she couldn't be sure what tricks they'd play with her food when she ordered brunch tomorrow. She didn't want to eat food swimming in spit.
As such, she giggled herself to sleep, thinking about all the food that was going to meet their end in her stomach.
But then, for crying out loud. What the hell was this?
In the middle of such a nice night, she woke up to the clang-clang-clang of weapons clashing.
What's with the noise upstairs?
A-Qing closed her eyes again. But it was the sorrow of humanity: if you didn't notice it at all, fine, but once something bothered you, you couldn't help but focus on it.
Cling Cling Clang Clang Get set, ready, go.
Boom Boom Kwang Kwang Jumping, yeah, jumping, yeah, everybody. (A parody of the famous korean song: Crayon Pop - Bar Bar Bar)
Snap. A-Qing's last thread of patience broke.
Her patience was weaker than noodles that had been left in soup for two hours, ever since she entered the Jianghu.
A-Qing drew her sword and rushed out.
"You sons of bitches! LET ME SLEEP! JUST! LET! ME! FUCKING! SLEEP! DID YOUR MOM AND DAD RAISE YOU LIKE THAT, huh—"
Before A-Qing's roar could finish.
A crushing killing intent surged forward.
A-Qing's waist arched like a bow.
A blade sliced past her chest.
A-Qing straightened her waist. Using the recoil, she thrust her left fist forward.
She jammed it hard under the assailant's armpit.
Crack. That ticklish sensation of breaking bone.
A muffled ugh as his windpipe choked. His waist bent.
At that instant, her Moonlight Sword fell vertically.
The blade sliced into the crown of his head, passed between his eyebrows and nose, and plunged into his philtrum (just above the lips).
"Brother!" a furious shout. A direct sword strike rushed towards her. A-Qing grabbed the corpse by the collar and pulled it. The blade poked out from the corpse's solar plexus. A-Qing pushed it forward. The dead man fell, crushing the living one.
A-Qing pulled out her Moonlight Sword (No. 6), which was stuck like an axe in firewood. Something oozed out from between the split halves of the head. Red was blood, white was brain matter. They mixed into a pale pink.
The guy underneath screamed.
So noisy.
A-Qing stomped on the corpse's waist and plunged her reverse-gripped sword into its back.
Two bodies, double the thickness, double the impact.
After a few stomps on the floor, the screaming stopped.
Such a weakling.
A-Qing smacked her lips and shook her sword clean.
In the Central Plains, any inn that considered itself decent was built in a square shape, with rooms on the outside, corridors and railings on the inside, and an open central courtyard for light.
From the corridor, you could see up and down all three sides. And under the moonlight, all four sides were in a frenzied sword fight.
It was literally a war of all against all.
What is this?Is this some culture I don't know about, after two years in the Central Plains?
Suddenly, she remembered that the inn had been strangely filled only with bad guys.
Perhaps bad guys have a culture where they pick a day to kill each other.
Just then.
"Myeong-ah!" A heart-wrenching cry made A-Qing's head snap around.
On the first floor, a figure clutched the child. A-Qing dashed down the corridor and leaped.
A-Qing landed in front of the kidnapper, using two feet, one knee, and one hand. It was how heroes made their entrance.
Her Moonlight Sword fell perfectly into her outstretched right hand, held straight horizontally.
Under the moonlight, A-Qing slowly rose.
"Phew…"
A-Qing grimly endured the pain in her knees and palms. Guess this is the pain of heroes.
In truth, it was a terrible landing technique that absorbed no impact whatsoever.
But that didn't mean it was ineffective. Advanced coolness, centuries ahead of its time! The kidnapper stumbled back a step. He'd been intimidated by her aura.
He couldn't tell the opponent's realm, but that move just now looked incredibly impressive.
"Release the child and vanish. I'll spare your life."
A-Qing emanated Sword Qi. Sword Silk coiled and flared from the blade. It was a show of force.
Because even A-Qing couldn't just slash at a kidnapper clutching a child.
A-Qing, startled, launched herself forward. Fortunately, she managed to catch her.
Instead, with a Pshuk, her arm seared with pain.
A dagger was embedded into her upper arm; only the handle could be seen, stiff and upright.
"I DID IT!"
A shrill scream. A-Qing's head snapped back.
She met looked towards the bastard who threw the dagger.
That fucker had his back turned to her.
And amidst all of this, he still continued to scream,
"KILL HER! SHE'S LACED WITH THE SEVEN STEPS POISON, SO SHE WON'T LAST LONG!"
That motherfucker.Didn't he see me drinking poisoned liquor?
The luster drained from A-Qing's eyes.
I'm going to kill that fucker. Absolutely slaughter the shit out of him. I will tear him to itty bitty fucking pieces.
But before that, there were other bastards trying to cut in line.
Like moths to a flame, emboldened by the Seven Steps Poison.
A-Qing tucked Jin Jang-myeong under her arm and threw her sword.
While one bastard was distracted, deflecting the sword, A-Qing's hand formed the shape of the Buddha's palm.
Dingggg-! The sound of a bell ringing. One head near her exploded. The remains flew in all directions. Skin with hair attached, shattered bone fragments, brain matter, and two eyeballs with little tails dangling from them.
Killing intent surged from the left. The little girl was tucked on that side.
A-Qing lowered her body and spun two and a half times. The enemy's ankle caught on her accelerating foot.
The enemy's two legs, now without their ankle, flew into the air.
The enemy was flying in a straight line due to the momentum of his charge.
A-Qing stomped on his neck and dashed out.
A spear flew towards her thigh.
She caught the spear shaft. Right as she was about to pull, there was a sound that seemed to cut through the air with a Swish. A massive sword blade rushed in.
A-Qing hugged the child and dropped to the ground.
The enemy's blade struck the floor. A-Qing rolled wildly sideways. Bam-bam-bam, the sound of weapons hitting the floor followed A-Qing.
The dagger in her arm tore at the wound.
It hurt so much she couldn't even scream.
The world was spinning and her arm hurt. So, so much pain. Pain. Pain.
An ankle was caught in her hand. She clenched her fist.
The ankle was crushed by the internal energy in her grip.
Bones ground and shattered, tearing through the skin and tickling her palm.
A strange warmth slowly bloomed from her dantian.
The pain lessened a little.
A-Qing kicked the falling owner of the crushed ankle.
The martial artist, who had been striking the floor, tumbled with the flying crippled leg.
A-Qing sprang up. Using the recoil, she quickly stood and stretched out her hand. Internal energy swirled violently.
Ding—! The vicious palm strike of the Buddha's Palm shot out.
A headless body fell onto A-Qing.
A-Qing tucked the little girl under her arm again and naturally snatched a sword from the headless corpse.
You're back, Moonlight Sword!
A-Qing grabbed Moonlight Sword (No. 7).
Then, the warmth from her dantian spread throughout her body.
At that moment, A-Qing lost herself.
Trance. It was a fascinating experience.
It felt like she was lying comfortably warm, resting inside her own body while someone else moved it.
A-Qing quickly found the right words: Auto-hunting!
A-Qing walked out.
She moved with the graceful bearing of a beautiful woman, spinning and stepping lightly as if dancing, filled with joy.
A silver streak followed her, leaving afterimages.
Sometimes, she would circle wide, severing an enemy's wrist, and blood would bloom, making the woman tremble.
Drawing circles, a swirling, coiling scribble, pierced hearts, bisected spleens, and cut intestines.
A gentle touch drew a horizontal line, connecting ear to ear, and a head opened naturally like a lid.
Blood flowed with every step.
Life withered, and the woman smiled delighfully.
Finally, in the center of the inn.
Under the diffused moonlight, the female swordswoman, with the child tucked under her arm, stood alone.
A-Qing finally regained control of her body.
A dull, crushing fatigue.
She almost stumbled.
What the hell, take my body back. I was more comfortable before!
"Myeong-ah!"
Yang Sowol, covered in blood, rushed out.
She had been a reliable ally, constantly throwing chopsticks whenever there was danger.
In fact, it was much more helpful than clumsy combined attacks.
Yang Sowol took the child into her arms and drew her sword, standing by A-Qing's side.
And so, the battle ended.
The inn was a mess of corpses and ownerless limbs.
Those clutching their wounds, groaning.
Some crawled around, searching for their own wrists and ankles, while exhausted survivors watched A-Qing cautiously.
"The feast is over. Everyone, go home."
She said it with a smile, but it was all bravado. As A-Qing's good lines usually were.
She had no internal energy left.
In fact, it was hard to even straighten her trembling legs.
Generally, the power of martial arts was proportional to the consumption of internal energy.
Maiden of the Moon Sword was a peerless divine art.
And the two strikes of Buddha's Palm also played a part.
While all her Inner Qi Arts was inherently powerful, even among them, the Buddha's Palm was special. After all, it was the pinnacle of all Orthodox Martial Arts. As such, it was not meant for a martial artist at the mere Peak Realm to use.
The survivors were still watching cautiously. A-Qing spoke again.
"Actually, I'm not in a great situation either. But I can still take two out of three of you. One-third. How about it, worth a shot? Wanna try?"
That statement was decisive.
"We will retreat. May we collect the bodies?"
"Just leave the dead ones' money pouches."
"…Thank you for your consideration."
Some turned away silently, some collected their comrades' corpses, and some voiced their grudges.
"I am Choi Beon of the Gangneung Stronghold. You will pay for this blood debt someday, you bitch."
"Sure, whatever. You do that."
Why is he talking so much when he was just another fucker who lost? Given my temper, I would've liked to settle this once and for all, but given the circumstances…
A-Qing had to hold her ground for a long time until all the enemies had left.