Martial Arts Masochist

Seventy-seven.

Through the Hao Gate, he’d overheard the grim details.

Seventy-seven dead in the Namgung Family alone.

A third of the clan members—or nearly half—swept away in the bloody storm.

Also, three hundred and thirty-three commoners trampled on Tianzhu Mountain outside the family estate in Anhui Province.

They’d killed a hell of a lot.

Compared to the massacres yet to come, it might seem minor, but 333 lives weren’t a small number by any means.

Especially when you remembered they were all people.

It was practically the entire population of this little Emei Mountain village wiped out.

“…Whew.”

A sigh escaped him naturally.

Including martial artists, just over four hundred souls had met their end.

Was the Demonic Cult trying to make a big statement?

Their opening move had certainly been massive.

From what the Hao Gate reported, the atmosphere around Tianzhu Mountain was in shambles right now.

No surprise there.

People were fleeing the mountain, they said.

With the Namgung Family—their protectors—crumbled, they were off in search of a new sturdy shelter.

And it wasn’t just fear of the Demonic Cult returning.

Evil sects were lurking everywhere, eyeing chances, so folks were abandoning their nests without a second thought.

And when people leave, the region falls apart naturally.

At first, the Murim Alliance tried to contain the chaos, calm the masses, and hunt down Demonic Cult remnants… but that lasted only about a month.

Namgung Yeon, bearing the heaviest burden of all, showed no will to fight on, and with the threat of those six striking elsewhere unknown, the sects and families prioritized defending their own territories and left Anhui.

Various sects and clans tried to help Namgung Yeon in their own ways, but even those efforts were half-hearted.

“I get it.”

Gwak Du Uncle said, picking at food stuck between his teeth with a tsk-tsk.

“The Namgung Family’s already done for. Who pours money and effort into a sinking ship? No fools out there entertaining a prince from a fallen kingdom.”

The uncle slowly pointed a finger at him.

“Except you.”

“…”

I know. I look like an idiot.

But without Namgung Yeon, everyone’s dead. What am I supposed to do?

He was already going crazy with anxiety. What if Namgung Yeon didn’t grow into who he was meant to be?

Still, the rest of the letter eased his mind a bit.

Namgung Yeon was getting back up, working for his family.

Tearing down ruined buildings, erecting new ones.

The family estate had shrunk dramatically, focusing resources only where needed.

He was running himself ragged every day to steady the villagers’ frayed nerves, and it seemed like he was starting to pull through the pain.

Few were swayed by the blockhead’s words or actions, but at least people were accepting him as the new Namgung Clan Leader through his efforts.

It was still rough, though.

“Whew.”

The protagonist was the protagonist.

He’d worried, but damn if the guy wasn’t rising.

Hope I helped a little.

…Hell, I better have. That was my entire fortune.

When you thought about it, he’d bet his whole life on this. He had to make it work.

He glanced at Gwak Du Uncle, who was picking his nose.

“What?”

The uncle had been grumpy for days, displeased with his choice.

…Uncle really thinks he raised me well.

Of course, he didn’t know how this gamble would pan out either—maybe this had saved the uncle’s life.

The Beggars’ Sect dodging the righteous-demonic war?

Let ’em burn like moths to a flame.

He crumpled the letter and swallowed it, then flopped onto the floor.

Guess he was fated to stay a beggar.

The fact that lying on the ground was the most stress-relieving, healing thing when he was tense… yeah, it was ingrained now.

Namgung Yeon wasn’t his only stressor.

His popularity had lasted all of three days.

Word spread that he’d sent all his money somewhere, and now no one came near him.

That stressed him out too.

Oh. Bangnan-i’s passing by over there.

He waved.

“…Eek!”

Bangnan-i jumped in fright and scurried away.

Gwak Du Uncle snickered, while Gu Yeong Uncle cursed after her.

“That girl… what’s wrong with our Seojin? When she was all over him before—damn wench.”

“Gu Yeong, it wasn’t you who got ditched. Why so heated?”

“Hyung-nim, doesn’t it piss you off that Seojin’s suffering this humiliation?”

“Piss me off? It’s all his karma. Who told him to give it all away? If he’d held some back, it wouldn’t be like this.”

Ma Childuk Uncle, who’d been listening, wiped his nose and lay down in front of them.

“But no matter how I think about it, our Seojin has a shot.”

He perked up his ears.

“Why? Who’s still into me?”

But the other uncles looked bored, as if they’d heard this before.

“Here we go again.”

“Forget it, Seojin. Ignore him.”

Ignored like he was some detective seeing angles no one else could, the uncle got more fired up.

“Hey, Seojin. No matter how you slice it… Dang Soran has a thing for you.”

“…What?”

“After days of thought, that’s my conclusion. Real potential there. You two even broke off your engagement together, right?”

“…”

Ma Childuk Uncle dragged out the vague hunch he’d tried to ignore.

For that awkward topic, he parroted his usual line like a parrot.

“Don’t talk nonsense. Dang Soran said herself she hates me, and our statuses are worlds apart. Didn’t I tell you? The Tang Clan Leader told me to wake up myself.”

“Flip it around—that means even the Clan Leader thought it was possible enough to warn you.”

“Whatever. He said no, so no point even thinking about it.”

“Seojin—”

“—Nah, nah, nah. Drop it.”

He shut down even the possibility.

He’d been hearing that a lot lately.

They had been tangled up more these days.

Setting that aside, maybe it was time to watch how close he was getting to Cheongwol and Dang Soran.

He’d meant to satisfy them with SM play, but the intensity kept ramping up—maybe he’d crossed a line he shouldn’t have.

He imagined the play for a moment.

“…”

…Yeah, he’d crossed it. Definitely.

Under the excuse of resolving heart demons, he’d gone way too far.

He needed to keep some distance, so how’d it come to this?

Was this okay?

If it was like this now, what if they got even closer?

He’d even slipped into casual speech with Cheongwol without thinking—what then?

Cheongwol called him her closest friend, and he’d been boiling frog-style, unaware in the heating water?

“You’re the only idiot who’d turn down Dang Soran if she said she liked you.”

“She didn’t say she likes me. Some weird girl likes me, and she’s dying to torment me about it.”

“That’s interest, you really not get it?”

“…”

Gwak Du Uncle kept tsk-tsking, then dropped a line.

“…Personally, I think Cheongwol’s the one.”

“Hahaha! Hyung-nim, that’s too far! How could that pure nun like a man? Our Seojin, no less!”

“Tsk. Cheongwol’s off-limits anyway. Like Childuk says, she’s a nun.”

Not even on my radar.

But for even the uncles to say it… it jolted him awake.

Had he been burying it too deep?

No matter how much he denied it, that’s how it looked from the outside?

And this was just from glimpsing one side of the iceberg.

“…”

His head spun.

Then Gu Yeong Uncle asked.

“Hypotheticals aside. But Seojin, what if it’s real? Cheongwol’s one thing, but if Dang Soran really says she’ll take responsibility for you to the end?”

“…No hypotheticals.”

“If, just if. For fun, say it.”

If?

If Dang Soran and Cheongwol really started having feelings for him…

“Ugh.”

…Fuck yeah, he’d snuff that spark before it grew.

No way both these girls would fall for a guy even villagers shunned… but hypothetically, no harm in planning.

In his mind, the Tang Clan of Sichuan crumbled harder than the Namgung Family, and Cheongwol… he didn’t even want to think.

Wouldn’t the Life-Pursuing Ghost latching on just doom them both?

He didn’t want to love a dying woman—or one who could kill him.

Sure, it turned him on, but that was just his dick being dumb.

Getting carried away by lust? No true sadist.

“No thanks.”

So he said.

“Absolutely not. I’d rather stay single.”

****

Cheongwol was meditating with her senior brothers in the spacious temple hall for the first time in ages.

Ahead, the Sect Leader and elders sat facing the disciples, watching.

Kneeling among her brothers, lost in meditation, she felt… normal.

The setting sun, the silence, the reverence—it awed any onlooker.

How long had it gone on?

Without warning, Muwol Satae spoke.

“…We must be cautious.”

That was the cue; everyone quietly opened their eyes.

“We’ve already lost Hye-yul and Baekhui to their hands once. From now on, go out in groups of at least three, and if you don’t need to leave, don’t.”

The six who called themselves the Divine Cult had appeared.

No one showed it, but the Namgung Family’s fall had planted fear in their hearts.

Cheongwol felt strange.

Especially thinking she might’ve joined them.

Without Han Seojin, she really might have.

That made him feel even closer.

Soun nodded, and Muwol Satae took a deep breath, recapping.

“We received word from the Shaolin Abbot recently. The Dragon-Phoenix Assembly will convene soon.”

Soun asked, rare surprise in her voice.

“In this situation?”

“That’s why. To show the Demonic Cultists the Murim Alliance stands firm despite their attacks. The Namgung Family’s out, but the rest won’t be. And flaunting strength will warn off the evil sects too.”

Dragon-Phoenix Assembly. It was about time anyway.

Where promising juniors under twenty-five competed.

Titles of Dragon and Phoenix awarded based on results.

Last year, Dang Soran had shone and earned the Poison Phoenix moniker.

No one spoke, but eyes turned to one person.

Many might join from Emei Sect, but only one was expected.

Under twenty-five. Exceptional junior.

Emei Sect’s treasure.

Once-in-a-millennium prodigy.

“…Cheongwol.”

Sure enough, Muwol Satae called her.

All eyes on her.

Even first-gen disciples held their breath at lofty Cheongwol kneeling on her cushion.

“Yes.”

Cheongwol replied softly.

“I’d like to nominate you. Will you go?”

Does she have a choice? she wanted to ask… but pointless.

No need to snap back.

No point dumping anger on Muwol Satae.

Cheongwol had largely let go of her affection for her.

They’d accepted their differences.

“If ordered, this disciple will do her best.”

“Then, Cheongwol… Hye-yeon, Baekhui, So-yu, Seo-yo…”

Names of disciples for the Assembly listed.

The called ones exchanged excited glances at venturing out, but not Cheongwol.

She swallowed a long internal sigh.

…How do I bring Han Seojin?

What excuse to convince him? What if he refuses…

Her head already throbbed.

“Cheongwol.”

Lost in thought, her name rang again.

“Yes.”

Muwol Satae gazed calmly and said.

“…What is that necklace?”

“Ah.”

“It’s rather inappropriate. Take it off. I’ve pondered it for days—”

“—No.”

Cheongwol cut off Muwol Satae head-on, surprising even herself.

“…Ah.”

She froze, realizing what she’d done.

First- and second-gen disciples all stiffened in shock.

Defying the Sect Leader in front of everyone.

But she didn’t want to take it back.

“A precious gift from my dear friend. Even you, Sect Leader, can’t make me remove it.”

The collar Han Seojin had fastened. Smaller than the original, it could pass as jewelry.

Even Muwol Satae couldn’t force it off.

She hated the idea. It symbolized her bond with him.

“But even so…”

“…Sect Leader.”

Cheongwol raised her voice again.

“Please don’t belittle my friend’s gift. I beg you.”

She bowed her head.

Muwol Satae nodded soon after.

“Very well. I understand.”

Cheongwol smiled inwardly.

Clan Leader, Clan Leader—you should’ve seen.

I protected your gift from the Sect Leader.

Good job, me. Cherishing the Clan Leader’s gift like this.

Polishing it daily, drying it, oiling the leather…

Cheongwol lifted her head with a faint smile.

Even mustering strength in Emei Sect—it’s all thanks to the Clan Leader.

****

“…Where’s Gayeong-i?”

He sought Gayeong-i to ask Weichang hyung for more Namgung Family intel via Hao Gate.

But she was gone; her tent stood empty even in broad daylight.

The usually diligent girl made the vacant dumpling stall feel alien.

Neighbor aunties answered.

“Gayeong-i’s father’s illness worsened. Probably nursing him.”

“…”

Even he felt a pang.

Maybe because he owed her and her dad so much.

Growing up a beggar, starving till his gut hurt—those dumplings they’d given him, he never forgot.

Her dad’s pitying eyes handing them over, Gayeong-i staring at him like some exotic creature—all crystal clear.

“If you know where, why not visit? You’re on decent terms, right?”

“…Decent, sure.”

One-sided on his end.

Like feeding starving kids in a poor country?

He was super grateful to Gayeong-i, but she often seemed indifferent.

Still, he set off steadily.

Their door hung wide—airing out?

“Anyone home?”

Gayeong-i peeked out.

Her gaunt face asked.

“What. You?”

Eyes red like she’d been crying, she wiped and teased.

“Why’re you here? No free dumplings today.”

“Didn’t hear? I’m rich now. Don’t take handouts anymore.”

She laughed briefly, then stuck out her hand.

“Hand it over. For the Branch Master again?”

No one’d deliver letters in this state.

He stepped inside cautiously.

“…”

Her dad lay skeletal on the bed, unrecognizable.

“…The tonic you made helped a bit, but it was temporary… Still, thanks. Made him happy for a moment.”

“…”

“Hey, you’re making it awkward clamming up. Don’t pity my dad on your own terms? That’s rude.”

“Oh, sorry. Not that… just feel bad.”

“For what?”

“Knew it was bad, should’ve visited sooner.”

“…”

He stared at her dad awhile.

Memories flooded back vividly.

Too young to collapse like this—made it worse.

He glanced at Gayeong-i too.

Come to think, did she resent him?

A beggar he’d sponsored suddenly rich, giving nothing back.

“First, get herbs in my name steadily. Brew tonics.”

“What?”

“Hao Gate’ll handle it. You’re too stubborn—could’ve asked me anytime instead of suffering alone?”

“…Since when are we that close? Hao Gate treats you like nobility—who knows your deal to make bold asks? Lately, you scared me.”

“It’s the same Han Seojin who took your dumplings. Just lucky with Hao Gate. No need to act weird—ask if you need something.”

Gayeong-i fidgeted her fingers, wiped a tear, and replied.

“…Okay.”

With that, he stepped out.

Life’s such a bitch sometimes.

Namgung Yeon, and now Gayeong-i…

But seeing her dad’s face, how could he not?

…Gotta do more.

He smacked his lips and walked on.

****

Muwol Satae recalled the lewd necklace around Cheongwol’s neck.

The “gift.”

Whose, obviously.

…Han Seojin Young Master’s, of course.

Corrupted by hanging with Beggars’ Sect beggars?

Muwol Satae worried endlessly.

“…”

Still, she remembered the Abbot’s advice.

Bless the young man’s life.

…Yes, Han Seojin was of marrying age.

Muwol Satae rose.

Maybe a little help would do.