Chapter 212

Chapter Title: Portent of War (2)

Dang Soran tossed and turned quietly in bed.

A cool breeze blowing through the window tickled her hair.

The soft chirping of birds nesting nearby soothed her body and mind.

Warm sunlight settled gently on her face, and even the servants' laughter carried over, as if something delightful had happened.

It felt languid yet comfortable.

Was there anything happier than taking a long nap on a fine day like this?

Perhaps because her recent days had been so hectic or arduous, today's leisure felt all the sweeter.

People get bored if they only do what they like.

You have to know how to overcome hardships to truly savor the sweetness.

...But what had been so exhausting that this moment felt so sweet?

Her life as the pampered jewel of the Tang Clan of Sichuan had gone exactly as she wished.

What had been going wrong lately to cause her such pain?

Half-asleep, she couldn't think straight.

“...”

Pak!

In an instant, her memories returned, and her mind snapped awake.

She bolted upright and scanned her surroundings.

Everything around her was spotless, as if the events of dawn had been a dream.

The ropes that had bound her were gone. Han Seojin's bag had vanished too.

Dang Soran groped at her body.

“...”

Her face flushed with shame.

The slickness between her legs was now as soft and fluffy as a summer blanket.

The soiled sheets were clean now.

The fluids scattered on the floor had been wiped away by someone.

The lewd scent had dissipated through the open window.

With no traces left, it all felt like a dream—but she wasn't so foolish as to confuse dream and reality.

“Ah... aaah!”

Dang Soran buried her face in the blanket and tore at her hair.

Now that the lust that had overwhelmed her had subsided, she realized what she had done.

The aftermath was unbelievable too.

She had fallen asleep without even being able to support her own body?

What must Han Seojin have thought while cleaning up after her?

Had he grown tired of her?

One realization after another hit her, and she sat up straight, covering her mouth.

What on earth had she done? The more she dwelled on it, the harder it was to believe.

They weren't even married, yet she had given him access to her most intimate place.

She hadn't imagined the play would get that intense.

...No, she had imagined it, but the emotions it stirred in reality were far removed from her fantasies.

After giving herself to him, the shame and embarrassment felt all too real.

Like those who approach boldly seeking a lesson in martial arts, only to become meek after a single bout.

She had longed for this moment, but the aftertaste left behind was more than she could bear alone.

In her fantasies of the play, she had been a proud cat before Han Seojin—maintaining her dignity while displaying her beauty to him.

Haughty, yet obedient. She had imagined radiating her charms like that.

But reality had been her melting in his arms.

She hadn't known that touching her there would bring pleasure like her body was melting.

Suddenly, the moans and pleas she had whispered in his ear replayed vividly in her mind.

It was far from beautiful. Even being generous, it was vulgar.

Recalling herself dissolving in his embrace, she couldn't lift her head.

“Euuugh...! I'm crazy, crazy!!”

What if he lost all affection for her?

Men and women were different—what would happen with someone she wasn’t married to...?

...Especially her, the eldest daughter of the Tang Clan of Sichuan, to Han Seojin, who was in a servant’s position...?

What if he thought of her as a woman who let her body be toyed with carelessly?

“Aah, what do I do...!!”

If she tried to cling to him, she could list every irrational thing she had done point by point.

On second thought, shouldn’t she have resisted somehow when he touched her there?

...Not because she hated it, but because that was a woman’s virtue.

No man liked a vulgar woman.

They weren’t married yet—it had gone too far.

She should have made him promise to care for her for life first.

“Haa...”

...But where was Han Seojin...?

“Huh?”

Then, Dang Soran flinched.

On reflection, Han Seojin wouldn’t be napping and resting like she was.

She blinked, then peeked her head out the second-floor window at a sudden thought.

“...!”

At the sight before her, she bit her lip and scowled.

She let out a shallow groan, as if scolding herself.

She regretted all the noises she had made while thrashing on the bed just moments ago.

Han Seojin was standing outside.

He must have heard everything.

Thud.

Dang Soran closed the window and froze for a long while.

Feeling a whirlwind of emotions, she steadied her heart.

She calmly opened the wardrobe and changed her clothes.

Then, she quietly descended the stairs.

She took another deep breath before opening the door and stepping out.

Han Seojin remained rigid, staring ahead.

As Dang Soran’s nostrils filled with his scent, memories of his relentless torment from dawn flooded back.

Moments of writhing pathetically in his arms, flailing helplessly.

How frightening he had been, how resolute.

...How handsome, how thrilling, how arousing too.

Dang Soran let her neck go limp before fixing her expression.

The memory of howling like a bitch in heat was too shameful and pathetic to endure.

She couldn’t accept that she had gone that far, swept away by lust.

Really, she hadn’t intended to go that extent.

...No, even if she had thought about it, she hadn’t expected it to feel like this.

No matter how much she showed him any side of herself, this was too much.

Even if that was how play worked, it was excessive.

Before play, she was a woman.

A woman who wanted to show only her pretty side to someone she cared about.

But at dawn, she had been far from that.

So, with a resolute expression, she looked at Han Seojin and spoke.

As if to make up for that pathetic display.

“...You cleaned up after.”

Han Seojin nodded.

“...Thank you.”

Dang Soran worried her face hadn’t flushed.

She had spoken calmly, but in the end, he had cleaned up after her... mess.

At her age, not like she was a child...

And technically, to Han Seojin, who was like a younger brother...

Shame burned, and she clenched her fists behind her back, squeezing out her voice.

“I thought about it, and I think both you and I went too far, Young Master. Don’t you think?”

“...The Night Tryst Herb is remarkably potent.”

He whispered awkwardly too, as if admitting he had gone overboard.

He seemed a bit embarrassed himself.

“Y-Yeah. We went too far. You don’t need to bring the Night Tryst Herb starting tomorrow.”

She was gathering the fragments of her shattered pride.

Taking a long breath, she declared.

“What happened at dawn? Let’s pretend it never was. I never wanted to show you that side of me—”

“—Sounds good!”

Han Seojin cut her off with a hearty response.

“...Pardon?”

“Sounds good, Miss. Let's call it nonexistent!”

He grabbed her hand and shook it.

For a moment, Dang Soran was speechless, staring blankly at him.

But the oblivious servant kept talking eagerly.

“Ha, it really was too much. Neither you nor I were in our right minds. Even thinking back, it was weird. While you slept, I deeply reflected on it.”

“...”

“Let me apologize first. I shouldn't have done that. It was a mistake.”

...What?

Why was he so happy about it?...And a mistake?

“...”

...Is this guy insane?

Touching the Tang Clan of Sichuan's eldest daughter's... there... and calling it a mistake?

It was her own words, but his reaction felt off.

No, beyond off—it sparked irritation rising bit by bit.

“Miss, I'll be more careful from now on. So please, be careful too. It might be best if I step down as your exclusive servant. To avoid any more such mistakes.”

“...”

Dang Soran thought silently without responding, suppressing her annoyance for the moment.

Why was he acting like this?

Why was he so pleased?

Why?

Because of whom?

“...”

The answer came quickly.

...Who else? Because of Cheongwol.

Thinking of Cheongwol standing beside Han Seojin made Dang Soran's face crumple like a child's.

If there was one bitter fact confirmed through the play, it was that he cherished Cheongwol far more than her.

With Cheongwol, they played naturally without reason, but with her, she had to rely on an aphrodisiac to even create an opportunity.

If her regret was not being more demure during the play, his was regretting the play altogether.

He had declared he would only play with Cheongwol.

With a relieved expression, Han Seojin continued.

“Whew, hearing you say that puts my mind at ease. And while we're at it, I'd like to leave the Tang Clan grounds now too. Staying cooped up inside has made my head spin. I can't hide forever, and lingering too long inside will raise suspicions anyway. Time to step out on errands. I've been feeling the need for fresh air lately...”

As he rambled, Dang Soran's awareness faded.

What would happen from now on?

This time, she felt how fragile her relationship with Han Seojin was.

Cheongwol and Han Seojin were bound by affection in their play, but she and Han Seojin were connected only by anger and provocation.

Did she have to stoke his rage like this every time for play?

What if he truly tired of her?

She didn't want to act only like this.

But if she didn't, he wouldn't indulge her—what was she supposed to do?

He pushed her away coldly, saying he wanted no ties to the jianghu—how was she to handle that?

If there was something unfair, it was that Cheongwol crossed the boundaries he had drawn without issue.

Meanwhile, she was still in a relationship he could end by pushing her away.

...Even after giving herself that far.

That thought ignited anger once more.

“Anyway, I'm fine with it. Let's call it nonexistent—”

Dang Soran cut him off and pressed.

“—What? How can that be nonexistent?”

“Yes?”

Han Seojin's face went blank.

Dang Soran fixed him with a cold stare.

“You... touched me there. How can that be nothing?”

She still couldn't believe a man's hand had reached there.

She didn't know how he saw her now, but for Dang Soran at twenty-four, it was the first time she had allowed a man there.

Even she herself had never touched it like that. Her own body, yet...

She had no intention of brushing it off as a mere memory or dismissing it as youthful folly.

The Tang Clan of Sichuan never forgot. And Dang Soran had no plans to forget this either.

Han Seojin let out a disbelieving breath.

“...Didn't you bring it up first, Miss? To pretend it never happened—”

“—I was testing you!!”

She shrieked.

Han Seojin flinched.

She didn't want to get irritated, but her innate nature wouldn't change so easily.

She was still probing for his weaknesses.

Then, casually, as if muttering to herself.

“Fine, I should tell Wol-i then. He touches another woman's... and wants to brush it off. Associating with a guy like this is a loss. We won't meet much anyway, so better cut ties cleanly...”

Grip!

Han Seojin grabbed her shoulder.

His voice trembled.

“—M-Miss? What did you just...?”

“...”

Dang Soran felt anew how wicked she was.

Seeing him flustered was so amusing and satisfying.

The mischievous impulse she had just resolved to suppress wouldn't die.

The hotter his attention poured on her, the happier she got.

“Why? Worried if Wol-i hears?”

“...”

“But I'm not lying. You really did touch my... when you're not even my husband. Even though I begged you to stop!”

Han Seojin opened his mouth with a slightly aggrieved look. Dang Soran recalled her own pleas as she said it, a subtle heat rising in her body.

Grip!

Now Han Seojin held her with both hands.

Just that made her feel trapped by him.

Dang Soran thrilled at the contact but hardened her expression and asked.

“What does this mean?”

“...Miss, keep it secret, please.”

“What?”

“That we played. From Wol-i.”

“Hmm. Why?”

“...”

“Why keep it secret? You did touch me. I didn't force you. You did it because you wanted to first.”

A twinge of conscience pricked her.

But his plea, focused only on Cheongwol's reaction, hurt in a subtle way, leaving her no choice.

On further thought, this was their relationship from the start.

Han Seojin's gaze had always been fixed on Cheongwol alone.

The one who forcibly turned that gaze was none other than Dang Soran.

A sudden thought struck her.

If she told Cheongwol honestly about this incident, wouldn't it end the relationship between Cheongwol and Han Seojin?

...But she didn't want to go that far.

She didn't want him to hate her.

Acting so brazenly, she was actually watching his reactions quite closely.

“...If I keep it secret, what will you do for me?”

So Dang Soran asked slyly.

Han Seojin couldn't speak.

Knowing he would freeze like this anyway, Dang Soran eased off the excessive provocation and questioning, yielding a step.

“...Fine, got it.”

“Really?”

Han Seojin's face brightened.

Dang Soran whispered while watching him.

“But.”

“...?”

“...Keep playing with me from now on.”

Han Seojin's face went blank.

Dang Soran didn't stop.

The pent-up frustration was unraveling.

“Never say you won't play with me again. Oh, I'm not asking for that level again today, but don't betray me. Got it?”

“...”

When Han Seojin didn't answer, Dang Soran prodded him.

“Should I tell Wol-i?”

“...!”

In that instant, Han Seojin's expression twisted subtly.

Why was he so weak only to Cheongwol?

What was so scary about her?

She couldn't understand.

He knew she had defeated Cheongwol at the Dragon-Phoenix Assembly.

What was frightening about that poor nun...?

Shouldn't he be the one watching her reactions...?

Especially since they wouldn't meet often anymore.

Han Seojin sighed deeply.

Then he glared at Dang Soran.

And she realized it at the same time.

Just like her, who said no, no during play but actually loved it.

Han Seojin said no, no but... his eyes held dominance and possessiveness.

She knew from how he looked pleased during play. She remembered the curl of his lips when she begged him to stop.

He wanted to play with her too. He was just mindful of Cheongwol, who wasn't even here.

If she escaped his dominance now, wouldn't he feel unsatisfied?

Hadn't the past few days confirmed that?

In Han Seojin's mind, she was no longer the Tang Clan's eldest daughter—she was Han Seojin's Dang Soran.

Play was more honest than words.

The truth from the body was clearer than lies from the mouth.

His eyes told her now.

That her proposal tempted him sweetly.

That, given the excuse, he wanted to toy with her too.

Even if he didn't realize it himself yet, Dang Soran knew first.

She was just giving his back a little push.

Han Seojin whispered.

“...If we play, you'll keep it secret?”

He said.

Dang Soran steadied her expression, which threatened to melt like his.

She put on a haughty face and nodded curtly.

As she turned to go back inside, Dang Soran looked at Han Seojin.

“But why do you watch Cheongwol's reactions so much?”

“...”

“She's not even here. We might not meet her much anymore?”

“...What does it matter?”

Dang Soran blinked and confirmed one last time.

“Anyway, we're playing, right?”

To the hesitant Han Seojin, Dang Soran finally said.

“...You touched me?”

“...Urk.”

“You have to take responsibility?”

With that, Dang Soran felt her face heat as she went inside.

The moment she closed the door, she collapsed to the floor.

She had to calm her trembling heart for a long while.