Surviving as a Cripple in Murim – Chapter 53

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Teottry
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“He sounds like a foolish god,” Mancheon remarked. The guide smiled brightly and shrugged.

“And a god who loves humans.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

After all, in the play, Sakra Devanam Indra repeatedly fought against monsters, despite his injuries, to protect humanity.

The plot itself was simple.

Long ago, a giant, jealous dragon had taken over the lake and hot springs, poisoning the waters and transforming them into a swamp.

The villagers, their livestock dying, crops failing due to the poisonous fog and the lack of clean water, prayed to Sakra Devanam Indra for salvation.

And Sakra Devanam Indra, heeding the prayers of the small, insignificant village, descended from the heavens.

However, eager to defeat the dragon and save the villagers, and perhaps also to enjoy a bath with the village women in the hot springs, he had descended too hastily and had stumbled, temporarily injuring his leg.

In any case, Sakra Devanam Indra had defeated the monsters that threatened the village, and finally, even the giant dragon itself.

While the protagonist, Sakra Devanam Indra, was a rather peculiar god, it was a decent story overall, a heroic myth with a moral.

“So, what do you think? Worth the price of admission, wouldn’t you say?”

Beneath the stage, as the audience erupted in thunderous applause, the guide, beaming, asked for their opinion of the play.

Xiaoshao, who had been watching intently, standing on tiptoe, her eyes shining, nodded enthusiastically.

She seemed to enjoy this type of heroic tale, just like when she had called him a xia earlier, her eyes sparkling with admiration.

“Yes! It was truly inspiring! Sakra Devanam Indra, rising again and again for the sake of the people, was the embodiment of perseverance. Especially during the fight with the dragon… oh.”

Perhaps embarrassed at revealing her childlike enthusiasm, Xiaoshao blushed, then cleared her throat and composed herself, her usual calm demeanor returning.

“It was… a very good play.”

A powerful, stoic martial artist who wielded the King’s Sword, yet secretly enjoyed watching Kamen Rider superhero shows. A cross-dressing young woman, older than him.

He smiled, the same fond smile he reserved for cute animals.

He felt it had been worth attending the festival, just to witness this side of her.

As he watched Xiaoshao, her cheeks slightly flushed, her attention once again focused on the play,

Plip… Plop… Pitter-patter…

dark clouds gathered overhead, and rain began to fall.

“Rain during the Sakra Devanam Indra festival… it seems the Water God is jealous.”

He and Xiaoshao exchanged puzzled glances at the guide’s strange remark.

“The Water God?”

“The god of water and sky, the guardian of justice. He lost to Sakra Devanam Indra in the battle for leadership of the Twelve Heavenly Kings.”

He looked up at the darkening sky, the rain falling steadily.

“Even so, it’s rather uncool of him to make it rain during the festival.”

“Hee-hee~ Well, the Twelve Heavenly Kings aren’t perfect beings, you know. They have their own emotions, their likes and dislikes, their strengths and weaknesses.”

The guide looked towards the stage, where the actor playing Sakra Devanam Indra was still limping, and muttered softly,

“That’s why they sometimes… fall from the sky.”

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The rain intensified, making it impossible to continue enjoying the festival, so they returned to the inn.

He suddenly recalled a saying:

‘Beautiful people look beautiful even in the rain or snow. It seemed to be true.’

He sat in the inn’s common area, waiting for the bath to be prepared, and watched Xiaoshao, who was seated across from him.

Her damp hair shimmered beautifully, her wet clothes clinging to her body, revealing its curves.

He… wasn’t trying to stare; his eyes were simply drawn to her.

He stood up, gave the waiter a tip, and received a soft, fluffy blanket, which he draped over Xiaoshao’s shoulders.

“Brother Nangong, you’ll catch a cold. Use this to warm yourself.”

“Ah… thank you. But what about you, Young Master Sima?”

“I’m naturally robust, so I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

He smiled, thinking that he, a martial artist, was less susceptible to colds, and besides, he had the Immovable Heart Method, a technique that could protect him from such minor ailments.

“That won’t do,” Xiaoshao said, suddenly rising and approaching him. She gently draped the blanket over his head.

He felt her slender fingers gently massaging his scalp through the blanket.

“One shouldn’t neglect their health simply because it’s inconvenient.”

Her soft voice, the pleasant scent of her damp hair and body clinging to the blanket, enveloped him, a comforting warmth spreading through him.

But the moment didn’t last long.

Perhaps realizing she had overstepped her bounds, Xiaoshao quickly withdrew her hand, her cheeks flushing slightly.

“I… I apologize for my forwardness.”

He felt a sudden urge to tease her, seeing her usually impassive face flushed with embarrassment.

“If you’re truly sorry, then please remain still for a moment.”

He stood up and approached Xiaoshao, who had taken a step back, her head tilted in confusion, and draped the blanket over her head.

Her turn was over. Now it was his.

He gently, carefully, almost reverently, ran his fingers through her damp, grey hair.

“I’ve been meaning to ask… why do you always style your hair so beautifully?”

“Well… my mother always said it looked pretty on me… and… everyone is staring. Please, Young Master Sima, let go of my hair.”

He wanted to continue teasing her, but the bath should be ready by now, so he released her hair.

Xiaoshao was already prone to accumulating yin energy. She would catch a cold if she remained damp for too long.

“Let’s call it even.”

Xiaoshao looked up at the mischievous yet kind man before her, her heart pounding, unsure whether it was from embarrassment or something else.

He was a mysterious man, possessing both the playful flirtatiousness of a cripple and the selflessness of a righteous hero willing to risk his life for others.

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The situation in the Song Dynasty, which once ruled the Central Plains, was dire, a complete and utter disaster.

The emperor had been captured by the Jurchen barbarians.

“Woohoo~! We captured the Song Emperor!!”

Relations with Goryeo, ruled by the Wang clan, descendants of the Dragon King of the West Sea, were deteriorating.

“Hey, Song, you didn’t help us when the Liao Dynasty attacked, and you’re stingy with your gifts (offering meager tributes while demanding ten times the value in return). Are we even allies?”

And the nomadic tribes of the north were encroaching on Song territory, their numbers growing.

“Hey, newbie, pay attention. It’s raiding time.”

Amidst all this chaos, the fact that the new emperor and empress hadn’t produced an heir was a relatively minor issue on a national scale, but for the Empress, it was a matter of grave concern.

She prayed diligently every day, with the devotion of someone observing a three-year mourning period, for a healthy heir, a child capable of leading them out of this crisis.

“She wants a cute baby and an end to the war~ Such a greedy human.”

Brahma, moved by her devotion, descended from the heavens to grant her wish.

And in response to the Empress’s plea for a child capable of ending the chaotic era, Brahma offered a rather… unusual proposition.

He proposed that she conceive a child with a god.

Unable to make such a decision on her own, the Empress informed the Emperor, who then met with Brahma to discuss the matter.

The details of their conversation remain unknown.

Ultimately, the Emperor agreed to Brahma’s proposal, and Brahma summoned the three most powerful warrior gods of the heavens.

Sakra Devanam Indra, the god of thunder; Surya, the sun god; and Agni, the god of fire.

“Hey, guys, I promised to grant a wish. So, do me a favor and… make a baby with the Empress.”

Sakra Devanam Indra was appalled by the request, despite being summoned by one of the highest-ranking gods.

“I am a Dharma protector, not some common street thug. How could I possibly sleep with a married woman? And personally, I prefer… virgins.”

Sakra Devanam Indra, who preferred monogamous relationships to harems, and who valued purity, rejected the proposition outright and ascended back to the heavens.

“Esteemed Brahma, I am the sun, who shines upon all. I cannot favor a specific nation or individual. It would be unfair.”

Surya also declined politely and returned to the heavens.

Two of the three he had summoned were gone. Brahma, his voice trembling, turned to Agni.

“Agni, you’ll… you’ll make a baby with her, right?”

And to Brahma’s anxious plea, Agni readily agreed, nodding enthusiastically.

“Sure, why not?”

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And thus began the reign of the Huo (Fire) Dynasty, the Deng (Lamp) Kingdom, founded by the child who would bring an end to the chaotic era, conquering the Jurchens, the Mongols, and finally, even the Song Dynasty.

The Huo Dynasty had a peculiar tradition of divining the future by burning books filled with characters and interpreting the resulting patterns of burned and unburned characters.

And on the day a small, beautiful baby girl was born into the Nangong family,

the characters that emerged from the flames were Nan (南), Gong (宮), Nyeo (女 – woman/girl), A (兒 – child), Wi (爲 – for/as), and Wang (王 – king), which, combined, formed the following prophecy:

Nangong Nyeoawi Wang (南宮女兒爲王) – The daughter of Nangong shall become king.

It was an ominous prophecy for both the Huo Dynasty and the Nangong family.

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Xiaoshao awoke from a light slumber and rose from the bath.

Water droplets clung to her collarbone, trickling down her delicate breast, tracing the curve of her slender waist.

She looked undeniably feminine.

Reflected in the bathwater was a girl, forced to live as a man due to a sinister prophecy.

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So smexy🥹😍