Martial Arts Masochist

“This… is truly bizarre…”

Bang Biyeon Uncle muttered to himself as he sat facing me.

“What do you mean?”

“So very strange…”

He let out a long sigh, then narrowed his eyes while glancing at my face.

“Young Master Han. I’ve long sensed you’re no ordinary fellow, but at this point, I can’t help but ask. What exactly are you hiding?”

“Pardon?”

“Whether it’s sheer luck or some hidden technique…”

“So why are you saying that?”

Instead of answering, he carefully placed a few sheets of paper in front of me.

Before I could even glance at them, Bang Biyeon continued slowly.

“We got word from the Hao Gate. They’re offering to help us.”

His voice was calm, but those words struck my chest like thunder.

“The massive foundations of the Sangpyeong Merchant House and Wi Cheon Merchant House crumbled in an instant. The Hao Gate wants us to fill that void.”

The Hao Gate was originally an information network and a merchant group. They planted members in inns everywhere, gathering rumors from casual conversations passed mouth to mouth.

“Pardon?”

“It means we’ve absorbed the Sangpyeong Merchant House. We’ll purge those who sided with Wi Cheon Merchant House, and the ones who knew nothing will become our people. Your leather garments played a big role in this.”

“…How so?”

They were just tacky clothes—how could they help?

“I don’t know how they found out, but word is your handmade goods have reached the lips of high-ranking Hao Gate officials. They say they possess practicality, exquisite craftsmanship, and a lewd elegance all at once. The Hao Gate wants our Changhwa Trading Company to grow. And they say you’re the starting point.”

“Me??”

I made leather clothes, sure, but to that extent?

Bang Biyeon stared at me for a moment, then waved his hand as if he’d given up on prying anything out of me.

“Whether you’re hiding it or truly clueless, doesn’t matter. Thanks to you alone, our Changhwa Trading Company has sprouted wings.”

A belated realization dawned on me.

Is the Hao Gate deliberately supporting me with some agenda?

But with just Brother Wi Chang’s power, it wouldn’t reach this far, would it?

…What else is attached to this?

Didn’t Bang Biyeon Uncle just mention Hao Gate high officials?

…How important have I become in the Hao Gate?

Ha, damn. Looks like uncovering the connection between Wi Cheon Merchant House and Baek Sa-hyeon has led to something big.

“Young Master Han.”

As I pondered, Bang Biyeon called me again.

“Your life has truly taken off now. That much, I can guarantee.”

Those words eased my slight anxiety a bit.

****

Dang Soran’s arrows weren’t aimed solely at Han Seojin.

Two people had ignited her fury.

One was Han Seojin, the other… Cheongwol.

No matter how much she provoked him, Han Seojin showed no reaction.

She recalled Han Seojin swallowing her saliva.

As if it were nothing, he gulped down her spit.

‘Does it taste better because of my saliva?’

…Was he serious?

Did her saliva really taste good?

Dang Soran tried swallowing her own saliva to taste it, but it was flavorless.

Thinking of Han Seojin drinking her saliva made her anger inexplicably melt away.

Yet something burned hot. Her heart raced too.

It felt like… Han Seojin had devoured her…

“Ugh.”

Dang Soran steadied her softening resolve.

Her revenge was far from over.

While groping for her next move, she spotted Cheongwol walking through the streets in the distance.

After pulling that stunt yesterday, her face was the picture of a benevolent nun.

Dang Soran couldn’t stand Cheongwol’s pretense.

You vulgar bitch. Flaunting your ass to a man and still calling yourself a nun?

Dang Soran bit her lip hard, then headed toward Cheongwol.

“Wol-ah.”

Only after approaching did Dang Soran realize.

“Ah, Senior Dang.”

Cheongwol greeted her with a bright smile.

…And around her neck, the mark from yesterday.

That thin black choker hung there.

Dang Soran stared at Cheongwol in disbelief.

“…Are you insane?”

She whispered.

“…Why?”

Cheongwol’s smiling eyes narrowed slyly.

“To me, it just looks pretty.”

At the surge of irritation, Dang Soran took a deep breath.

But Cheongwol’s appearance kept nagging at her.

It was as if she were proclaiming to the world, even in broad daylight, who held her leash.

“It’s not like the Young Master owns you, so why wear that?”

“Hmm.”

Cheongwol just shrugged and turned her head.

Grabbing Cheongwol’s wrist, Dang Soran dragged her away from prying eyes.

Soon, with no one around, Dang Soran spoke.

“What if people see you wearing a plaything all the time?”

“Isn’t that for me to decide? It’s a gift from the Young Master, telling me to treasure it.”

Dang Soran gripped the hairpin hidden in her sleeve.

…Who could’ve thought that just days ago, this lovely hairpin would feel so pathetic now?

“…It’s ugly, Wol-ah. Even if it’s from the Young Master, it’s too hideous.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah. Way too much. So not pretty at all. What even is that? You’re not a dog. Haven’t you gotten any dirty looks? A nun wearing something like that.”

“There were a few suspicious glances.”

Cheongwol continued.

“I didn’t think it’d look that odd. Hmm, should I give it to you then?”

“…Huh?”

“If it’s that weird, no need to wear it. Too much of a shame to toss, so want it, Senior?”

“…”

Dang Soran was speechless.

…For real? She’s offering it? Just like that?

Dang Soran imagined herself wearing that choker.

She swallowed at the erotic image.

If she took it… then naturally…

“…Ah.”

But as Dang Soran’s hesitation dragged on, a smile tugged at Cheongwol’s lips.

Dang Soran realized then: she never intended to give it from the start.

She’d just tested her with a simple lie.

The moment her desire was exposed, all her barbs fell flat.

“I don’t need it…!”

“Why get mad, Senior?”

Since yesterday, Cheongwol had been relaxed, while Dang Soran hadn’t.

Dang Soran wanted to irk Cheongwol, even a little.

Otherwise, this frustration wouldn’t fade.

“…You, stop playing those games with the Young Master now.”

Dang Soran declared.

Only then did Cheongwol’s expression slowly harden.

“Who are you to give me that advice?”

“Wol-ah, you’re a nun! An Emei Sect disciple! You think it’s okay for someone like you to… play those dirty games?”

“Our sect has its rules, and I’ll follow what needs following… But is it right for an outsider to say that? Conversely, wasn’t implanting Tang Clan inner arts into the Young Master’s dantian a taboo? How’d you manage that?”

“Should I tell Elder Muwol Satae?”

Cheongwol’s eyes twitched.

“Yeah? Wol-ah. That you… bared your ass to Young Master Seojin and got spanked. Shall I tell her that? That you rubbed your lewd body against him, acting all coquettish?”

“Buddha sees Buddha, pig sees pig. If what I did to resolve my heart demon looks lewd to you… maybe you’re the one bursting with lust, Senior Dang? Should I tell Clan Leader Dang instead? That Senior Dang seems to approach the Young Master with… somewhat improper intentions. Oh, you should know that too.”

“…What?”

Cheongwol smiled.

“Clan Leader Dang appeared before the Young Master herself and said it. It’s nonsense anyway, but she pointed it out specifically. The Young Master and Senior Dang… are absolutely forbidden.”

At those expected words, Dang Soran’s heart plummeted.

“…What?”

“Why so surprised? It’s obvious.”

Cheongwol’s eyes sharpened further.

Dang Soran twitched her lips before replying.

“Surprised? Why would I be? I know. I know I’m no match for the Young Master. We’re not on the same level.”

She barely spat out the words, but her heart felt like it would burst.

Her vision spun for some reason.

She couldn’t face Cheongwol.

The pain in her chest dragged on endlessly.

Then, pushing past the agony, Dang Soran looked up at Cheongwol.

No idea why she looked so smug.

“But so what? Same goes for you.”

“Pardon?”

“You’re a nun. You can’t be with the Young Master, right? You can’t even bear him children. Because you’re a nun. Useless as a woman. Unlike me.”

Cheongwol seemed slightly stung but soon composed herself.

As if stating her original intent.

“…I have no plans to be with him? We’re just close friends for life? Why point that out…”

“Same here. So why say that to me all of a sudden? And stop with that arrogant glare. I’m closer to the Young Master.”

“Oh, are you?”

Whether because of the choker or not, Cheongwol ignored her words like they went in one ear and out the other.

Finally, in anger, Dang Soran blurted out the secret she’d hidden.

“You, have you seen it?”

“Pardon?”

“That… Have you seen it? I have.”

Curiosity dawned on Cheongwol’s face too.

“Seen what?”

Dang Soran swallowed. She opened her mouth, but no words came.

“Th-that… that thing.”

“What thing?”

“The Young Master’s… that.”

At the mention of the Young Master, Cheongwol’s interest piqued.

“The Young Master’s what.”

“…Coc…”

“Coc…?”

“…Coc… co…”

“…Cock-a-doodle?”

“Coc…”

After clucking like a chicken, Dang Soran rolled her eyes once and finished.

“…k.”

Silence fell.

Why did she say that?

Shame kept Dang Soran from lifting her head.

But she wasn’t the only one frozen.

A hand gripped her shoulder, and in a voice colder than ever, Cheongwol asked.

“…Senior Dang, you’ve seen it?”

No need to hold back now.

“I… have. I saw it, Wol-ah. A bit gross… and a bit… cool.”

At those words, Cheongwol’s grip tightened.

Yeah, this is what she wanted to feel.

“Now you get it? I’ve seen the Young Master’s most intimate parts. Stop bragging.”

“…How did you happen to see it?”

Dang Soran looked up at Cheongwol.

And flinched.

Cheongwol’s expression up close was startlingly frightening.

Icy eyes. Fallen face. Still lips.

Yet Dang Soran didn’t back down.

“You don’t need to know. We were close, so I saw it. We’re in that kind of relationship, got it?”

“…”

Cheongwol let out a long sigh and calmed first.

Perhaps she no longer had the reason to continue fighting.

She carefully touched her choker and said.

“…Well, I’ll be more careful with the Young Master. Thanks, Senior.”

Her hand on the choker contrasted sharply with her words.

“Time to head to training. See you.”

Cheongwol stroked the choker and left with a cold expression.

No telling where she was headed.

Dang Soran lingered in place for a long while.

Her emotions fluctuated wildly, rooting her to the spot.

Cheongwol’s choker shimmered before her eyes.

“…Ugh!”

Suddenly, she yanked the hairpin from her bosom as if to hurl it away.

It was stolen. Not even given to her.

And it held no meaning.

Not handmade by Han Seojin either.

Dang Soran trembled, but soon crouched down, clutching the hairpin preciously to her chest.

Discarding it felt like severing her last tie to Han Seojin.

.

.

.

In the end, Dang Soran sat and began writing a letter.

Destination: Mount Emei.

Recipient: Elder Muwol Satae.

No matter what… shouldn’t a nun baring her ass to a man be reported?

If she didn’t want that, she shouldn’t have done it in front of her.