Martial Arts Masochist

However, if I mustered up a bit more courage here, could it be of some help?

That arrogant assumption that I could help Cheongwol was shaking my firm belief that she would return to the Demonic Cult.

“…”

“…”

…No. Don’t think about it.

Once I make that choice, there’s truly no turning back.

Why gamble?

It would be no different from declaring that I intend to get involved with the martial world.

It would mean throwing away the vows and time of the past ten years entirely.

How could I change Cheongwol? Becoming one of the Demonic Cult’s Seven Heavens is the fate this novel has set for her.

Just live hand to mouth, day by day.

Just like I have until now.

As I soothed myself like that and let my thoughts drift, I suddenly realized something.

We had been gazing into each other’s eyes for quite a while.

What surprised me was that Cheongwol, with her serious eyes, hadn’t avoided my gaze during that long time either.

I slowly moved my hand to Cheongwol’s neck.

Click.

And then I removed the collar.

“Haa…”

Cheongwol, regaining her freedom, let out a long sigh.

I could see the red line drawn across her neck.

It seems inevitable that traces would remain after dragging her around like that.

Moreover, since it was a roughly procured collar, the finishing wasn’t great.

It wasn’t made for wearing around a person’s neck to begin with, so her neck looked a bit chafed too.

Without realizing it, I brushed her neck with my thumb.

“…!”

“…!”

Cheongwol flinched, and I snapped to my senses as well.

“…G-Go on now.”

“Ah… Yeah.”

Cheongwol rubbed her now bare neck, lowered her veil, and slowly started walking away.

But after a few steps, she stopped.

“…Another ten days?”

I nodded.

Cheongwol’s reaction was now hidden by the veil.

Just when I thought she was walking again, she stopped once more and asked.

“…Are you going back to Emei Mountain?”

This question felt somehow suffocating.

Why are you curious?

“…Yeah.”

Cheongwol nodded this time too.

And then she kept walking toward the end of the alley.

“Hey, where do you think the Clan Leader is resting?”

But she stopped again and asked.

This time, I put some distance between us.

Letting out a shallow sigh, I answered.

“You don’t need to know.”

“…”

And then one more time after that.

“Hey, Clan Leader. As I said, with Dang Soran—”

“—I said no. Do you think I did it because I wanted to with Dang Soran? Besides, she got mad at me and left, so what am I supposed to do now?”

“…Yeah.”

With those words, Cheongwol left.

“Haaa…”

After Cheongwol disappeared, I waited a bit longer before sliding down the wall and collapsing onto the ground.

Only now did all the tension truly release.

The exhaustion was intense.

I somehow got through this time too.

I survived this time too.

Thinking about it, I never imagined that the moment I met Cheongwol in that brothel, I could end it on such a not-bad note.

It was truly a relief.

In that sense of relief, I sat right there in the dark space where she had been hiding, breathing steadily for a long time without doing anything.

Ha, but.

Now, what do I do starting tomorrow?

It’s been quite a while since I came to the Holy City.

I’ve been too busy just surviving, and I haven’t accomplished anything specific.

Far from gains, I’ve lost everything I had.

Food expenses, Cheongwol’s collar, stuff from the Dang Pavilion… Buying those few things drained all my money.

I haven’t even laid the groundwork for escape, let alone set up any way to make money.

I need to leave something behind in the Holy City, but at this rate, I might end up with nothing.

For now, since I’ve wrapped things up with Cheongwol somehow, let’s start over from tomorrow.

Collect information and connections step by step again.

****

Cheongwol returned to the Tang Clan.

A lingering aftertaste settled achingly in her chest.

She kept rubbing her neck.

The spot where that collar—which she had hated so much, which had been so humiliating—had been was… somehow empty and hollow now.

At the same time, the burden settling on her shoulders seemed to grow heavier.

She was now a nun of the Emei Sect who had to support herself, no longer anyone’s possession.

Now she had to walk on her own, think on her own.

Those perfectly natural processes felt far more uncomfortable for some reason.

Cheongwol tightly closed her eyes and then opened them.

She needed to steel her resolve.

This was treatment. She couldn’t become dependent.

She just needed to savor that moment of liberation and stockpile strength to move forward.

She couldn’t let herself get lost in it and break.

Non-everyday moments were best kept brief. She had to return to everyday life.

With this mindset, the next ten days would be unbearably tough.

“…How come.”

At that moment, someone stopped her.

Cheongwol flinched and froze in place.

“How come you’re wandering back so late.”

Cheongwol slowly turned her head.

There stood Dang Soran.

She couldn’t tell why Dang Soran—who always holed up in her room after meetings with the later-generation disciples—was in this area.

Perhaps mistaking her for a Tang Clan servant, Dang Soran continued.

“And what’s with that veil? Take off your hat. You look suspicious. I need to confirm you’re not a spy from the unorthodox sects.”

Cheongwol let out a long breath.

There was no need to hide her face anymore anyway.

She slowly took off her hat and tossed it aside.

“…It’s me, Senior Dang.”

And at that moment, Cheongwol saw Dang Soran’s eyes narrow slyly.

“…?”

For some reason, it felt a bit lascivious, sticky.

Feeling oddly uneasy about it, Cheongwol spoke first.

“I had some business… so I was out for a bit. I forgot it was rude not to remove the veil. Sorry.”

“Ah, no. I didn’t realize it was you. Sorry for the misunderstanding.”

Dang Soran licked her lips slightly and asked.

“B-But… where did you go? You left the Hidden Dragon Society gathering, and now it’s this late…”

A scene flashed through Cheongwol’s mind.

In a dark space, Han Seojin carefully wiping Dang Soran’s feet.

His touch, unusually tender.

As that came to mind, Cheongwol’s expression hardened momentarily.

“…Senior Dang doesn’t need to know.”

Only after the words were out did she realize her tone was too stiff.

But at that, Dang Soran’s sly gaze deepened even more.

Strangely dangerous, sensual.

“Haa…”

Dang Soran let out an awkward breath and waved her hand dismissively, as if indifferent.

“Y-Yeah. Sorry. You must be tired—go rest.”

Cheongwol nodded.

And then she walked off to get some rest.

.

.

The next morning.

Dang Soran appeared before Cheongwol.

It was early.

Even for her, it was unexpected.

“…Pardon?”

But it wasn’t just a casual visit.

Dang Soran carefully held out a letter in her hand and said.

“The Sect Leader is looking for you. Seems like there’s something to discuss.”

Cheongwol slowly reached out and took the letter.

No mistake—it was indeed from the Sect Leader.

Inside the letter, it said that now that the exchange was over, she should return to Emei Mountain.

It added that there was something to talk about.

…Well, she had spent a long time in the Holy City.

It was about time to go back anyway.

“…Shame. You’re heading back?”

Unaware of Cheongwol’s complicated feelings, Dang Soran spoke.

“Still, I had fun these past few days. Thanks.”

She even offered gentle words of farewell.

It felt somehow unfamiliar and awkward.

“…”

Having received this letter, Cheongwol needed to depart by noon at the latest today.

It wasn’t satisfactory… but there was no choice.

She wouldn’t meet Han Seojin for the next ten days anyway.

Cheongwol gazed at Dang Soran.

…Han Seojin had said he had no intention of getting involved with her.

And Dang Soran had no way of knowing Han Seojin was in the Holy City.

So there was no need to feel bound.

Cheongwol nodded.

“…Yeah… I guess so.”

“Yeah. If you need anything for the journey, let me know. I’ll prepare it.”

“…Then, if it’s not too much trouble, could you give me a few iron coins? My funds aren’t ample…”

“Sure. Don’t worry. You know the Tang Clan has plenty of money.”

It wasn’t empty words—Dang Soran immediately pulled a silver ingot from her own pouch.

Cheongwol was slightly startled by the sudden large sum.

“…”

She felt once again how life rolls along in each person’s own way.

While some pull silver from their pouches, others spend all day handling leather, twisting ropes just to eat one meal, and come all the way to the Holy City searching for a way to survive.

“…This is too much money…”

“It’s fine. Don’t feel burdened. We’re in the same Hidden Dragon Society now, right?”

“…”

“…We should look out for each other.”

To call them the same Hidden Dragon Society was a stretch—they had both burned with competitive spirit toward each other.

Yet, could they cut off that long rivalry and get along well?

Cheongwol wasn’t sure.

…But Dang Soran seemed to want that.

Cheongwol decided not to ignore that sentiment.

She had to maintain at least basic courtesy herself.

She carefully brought her hands together in a respectful fist salute.

“Thank you, Senior. Since it’s come to this, I’ll go pay my respects to the Clan Leader right away and set off for home.”

“Yeah. Do that. Like I said, it was nice meeting you.”

From behind her, a gaze followed.

Cheongwol knew without looking back.

That Dang Soran’s eyes weren’t letting her go until the end.

That gaze was strangely tickling her back.