Martial Arts Masochist

“Eat.”

Not long after, a feast fit for an emperor was laid out before me.

…The emperor’s royal banquet couldn’t have been any better.

For someone like me who always licked the plates clean to satisfy my hunger, this was the first time such an overwhelming amount of food had been set before me—far more than I could ever fit in my stomach.

“…Wow.”

The fragrant aroma of spices pierced my nose. It was enough to make my mind hazy.

For me, who considered grilling a few pieces of meat a luxury, this sight was nothing short of paradise.

“I’m glad you’re pleased—it makes me proud too. Come on, before the food gets cold.”

Dang Soran personally scooped some food onto a plate and handed it to me.

The consideration in that simple gesture unexpectedly tugged at my heartstrings.

“N-No, I’ll do it myself.”

“No, I’m serving you.”

Dang Soran rose from her seat like a maid, tending to my food and even pouring liquor into an exquisite cup.

“It’s daughter’s wine. The batch they made when I was born.”

“Pardon? Something this precious…”

“Exactly. It’s wine that’s brewed at birth and saved for the wedding.”

Tuk.

My hand froze.

My heart plummeted once more.

…Why give something so precious to me right now?

I’d gotten confused by the different term, but this was daughter’s red, wasn’t it?

Wine brewed at birth, saved for the wedding.

The Tang Clan of Sichuan’s precious daughter, Dang Soran’s daughter’s wine… and I was drinking it?

Me, the Leather Room owner from the outskirts of Mount Emei, an orphan?

Shouldn’t they brew more? Why bring this here!

Noticing my agitation, Dang Soran chuckled softly.

“I made it sound grand, but they actually brewed hundreds of bottles. No one would notice if one went missing. I’ve had it a few times myself.”

“Ah.”

“My wedding will have tons of guests—if there was only one bottle, no one could even touch it. So don’t worry.”

Her words lightened the weight on my shoulders a bit.

“Still, it’s wine you should drink on your wedding day…”

“Oh, Young Master. I’m not getting married.”

“Pardon?”

“I’m not interested in marriage.”

…Of course, in the original story, Dang Soran never ended up with anyone.

Before anything like that could happen, she met Cheongwol…

“Besides, even if I did marry, he would come to me, not the other way around. We’re the Tang Clan of Sichuan. Our secrets on poisons and hidden weapons can’t leak out.”

…If marriage happened, it’d feel like Dang Soran was the one devouring him.

Feeling anew the intimidating presence of the Tang Clan of Sichuan, I refused once more.

“…The future is unpredictable—”

“—Oh, don’t be such a spoilsport. You can’t pour it back once you’ve drunk it. Here, have a sip. How does my daughter’s wine taste?”

…The words sounded oddly suggestive, but I ignored it.

She was right—it couldn’t be poured back.

I’d been polite enough.

Refusing further would be rude.

If word got around the Central Plains that I’d rejected Dang Soran’s daughter’s wine.

People would stone me, yelling, ‘Who do you think you are?’

I took a sip.

“…Wow.”

The smoothness was insane. Sweet, bitter, sour, with a slight spicy kick.

It was so good that I forgot it was too fancy for someone like me and craved the next cup immediately.

“Is it alright? It’s aged as long as I’ve been alive, after all.”

Dang Soran was 24 years old.

24-year-old wine. No wonder it tasted incredible.

“…It’s fine liquor.”

At my words, a bright smile bloomed on Dang Soran’s face.

“Thank you, Young Master.”

Her kindness melted away my wariness.

…She really is a good person.

Well, she is part of the protagonist’s group.

I’d been worrying over nothing.

“…I’m sorry about that time.”

Without thinking, I brought up the topic first.

“Pardon?”

Punishing someone who’s not a masochist like that.

I did it to get out of the situation myself… but I should’ve toned it down.

…No, thinking back, I couldn’t have gone any lighter…

…Whatever. It was my fault.

SM without consent is just violence.

No excuses.

“Th-That… I made you smell my shoes, spanked your soles… I was wrong.”

At the mention of shoe smell, Dang Soran blushed and averted her gaze.

“It’s… fine. As I said, I was the one who got angry and left that day, so I’m more sorry. And your intentions weren’t bad, right? You were trying to release my heart demon.”

…It wasn’t heart demon release that made me sorrier.

Dang Soran clenched both fists and continued.

“Let’s clear the air here today. Eat delicious food and leave with no more apologies between us.”

I nodded.

Dang Soran refilled my cup.

It felt strange. Seeing her obediently pour my drink was oddly satisfying.

…I’m insane. There’s a monster in my chest. As long as she’s submissive, it’s all good, huh.

Even though I hadn’t forgotten who she was.

Well, if I didn’t have this monster in my chest, would I have been crafting SM tools in the Central Plains?

As Dang Soran returned to her seat, she paused.

She glanced at me and smiled faintly.

“I’ll just sit next to you? No point going all the way over there… and I want to pour for you like this.”

“Ah, sure.”

No reason to refuse, so I nodded.

The table was surprisingly spacious, making us feel too far apart if separated.

And so, we sat side by side, talking for a long time.

Surprisingly, the conversation flowed smoothly and naturally.

Probably due to Dang Soran’s unique sense of ease.

Above all, sharing drinks with someone so beautiful naturally lifted my spirits.

It was just one meal, but this memory would linger for a long time.

As a gentle buzz set in, Dang Soran cautiously asked.

“By the way… why have you gotten so thin? Have things been tough? Financially too?”

“Yeah.”

It was because of the Tang Clan of Sichuan, but I brought it on myself by hiding… and she had no ill intent.

“Ahh.”

She fixed me with a steady gaze.

“…Did Wol-i not take care of you, Young Master?”

“Cough!!”

Sichuan spices burned my throat.

Dang Soran hurriedly offered a cup in surprise.

“W-Water. Have some water.”

I gulped it down without thinking.

“Oh, it was liquor. Sorry.”

The spicy sensation flooded my mouth belatedly.

The intoxication intensified.

Liquor or water, I had no time to care.

I asked.

“Why bring up Lady Cheongwol all of a sudden?”

Dang Soran averted her eyes and explained carefully.

“…I know everything. I saw you at the Drunk Cloud Tower, Young Master. Walking hand in hand with Cheongwol.”

How…? No, even if she saw, Cheongwol was wearing a veil—

“—The clothes Wol-i was wearing were from the Tang Clan. What our servants wear normally.”

I wanted to slap my forehead.

You idiot, Cheongwol. Why wear that!

…But thinking about it, did she even have other clothes?

My heart pounded. I hadn’t imagined anyone would notice.

“It’s just between us, so don’t worry.”

Dang Soran reassured me.

“I have no intention of telling anyone. I’m just curious. You’re that close… so why didn’t Wol-i take care of you? Why are you so thin?”

She didn’t seem to know about the leash walk yet.

I just stammered excuses.

We couldn’t be mistaken for lovers.

“Why would Lady Cheongwol take care of me? We’re not like that. That walk… it wasn’t what you think… just simply—”

“—Heart demon release?”

“Yeah. Heart demon release.”

Dang Soran pressed further.

“Then she should take care of you even more! If you were helping Cheongwol, you deserve compensation. To others, it looks like a secret affair. If caught, the whole Central Plains would buzz, and your daily life would be ruined. You’re taking all that risk, yet you have to starve? Did Cheongwol give you nothing?”

I’d saved her life—what more did I need?

But I couldn’t say that, so I just gave an awkward smile.

“Was I that bad?”

“It hurt to see. But it’s strange. I gave Wol-i a silver ingot. How could she not share even a bit with you?”

She gave her silver?

Her words shook me a little.

Come to think of it, Cheongwol hadn’t given me anything.

“…It’s fine. I didn’t do it expecting anything.”

It was sincere. Not for rewards.

…It was to survive.

Dang Soran fell silent for a moment, then said quietly.

“If it were me, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Pardon?”

“If you were helping me… you wouldn’t have gone hungry.”

She gazed at me intently.

“…”

“…”

Sudden silence descended.

The atmosphere grew sticky somehow.

It felt like spiderwebs were spinning around me.

I awkwardly looked away.

Then she spoke again.

“Young Master. But answer my curiosity too. That… heart demon release. Excluding the violence… it felt incredibly… um, intimate and close. Am I right?”

“…I can’t deny it.”

Well, SM is something lovers do.

Dang Soran had already figured it out.

Of course—praising her beauty, saying she did well… pampering a masochist is the essence of SM.

…Cheongwol vaguely senses it too, right? Since I held her hand.

“…I knew it.”

I added by way of excuse.

“It’s based on trust and faith. Leaving punishment to me… without consent, it’s just violence. But there’s no affection between Lady Cheongwol and me. She’s a nun, after all—no way she’d have that…”

“Anyway… you and Wol-i are bound by trust, right?”

“…Y-Yeah.”

“…Hoo…”

Dang Soran’s shallow exhale.

“…Wow, impressive. The man Cheongwol trusts. I never imagined such a person existed. Do you know how astonishing that is?”

“…Ahaha…”

…Was it my imagination, or was it real?

Was the alcohol messing with me, or was she acting strange?

Why did Dang Soran keep looking excited to my eyes?

Swuk.

Then, Dang Soran’s hand quietly touched my thigh.

That provocative touch froze my breath.

“…Young Master.”

Her voice dropped low.

My head spun from the alcohol.

Her eyes had softened seductively, conveying emotions I’d never felt before.

In a word… her gaze was just sexy.

“…Anyway, you could ask something of Wol-i.”

Dang Soran raised her cup and continued slowly.

“She can’t just receive help and leave you be. Come to think of it, the Leather Room on Mount Emei looked rundown… Wol-i is so thoughtless.”

Her hands rested softly on my thigh and shoulder.

She whispered into my ear as I stiffened, staring ahead.

“If you were doing heart demon release with me and were in Chengdu… you wouldn’t have gone hungry, at least.”

“…Pardon?”

Dang Soran and SM?

She ignored my confusion.

“…If it were with me, it really would be.”

“…”

Was it because of the money troubles these past days?

Dang Soran’s whispering figure shimmered before my eyes.

…If I’d been doing SM play with Dang Soran.

…Life would be more comfortable now, she’d say?

Eating feasts like this every day?

If I picked up the switch again…

…And struck Dang Soran with it…

“…Hup!”

I snapped out of it.

What SM play with Dang Soran!

She was the one who’d gotten angry and left last time.

What good would entangling with a martial artist do!

Dang Soran was just talking.

Empty words wrapped in goodwill.

Don’t mistake her kindness.

I’d nearly become the fool who falls head over heels for a little niceness.

Believing such flattery would create a dark history.

Those basement memories must be traumatic for Dang Soran too.

The Tang Clan of Sichuan’s precious daughter beaten by a Mount Emei beggar.

Plus, Cheongwol’s voice echoed suddenly.

‘This game is only with me. No matter who else asks, don’t do it. Got it?’

That plea now sounded like a warning.

Cheongwol conveying her sincere feelings with a more serious and vulnerable expression than ever.

I couldn’t ignore that warning.

It was instinctual.

Swuk!

I pushed away Dang Soran’s hands from my thigh and shoulder.

I’d come here to cut ties with Dang Soran.

She hadn’t tempted me into SM play in the first place, but let’s make it clear.

“H-Haha. Thank you for the words. But wasn’t it not your style, Lady? I can’t commit another rudeness.”

“…”

Dang Soran looked at her pushed-away hand and smiled faintly.

A smile devoid of emotion.

No reply.

She rose quietly from her seat.

Her aura had shifted slightly. She seemed a bit angry, for some reason.

My imagination, probably?

“…You’re right, Young Master. There was something I wanted to show you.”

“What is it?”

“My hobby. Since we’ve become connected, I wanted to share. I love composing poetry. Would you take a look?”

Dang Soran’s love for poetry was often depicted in the original story.

She’d recite poems sporadically during tough times to endure.

As the topic shifted, my mind eased.

I nodded.

“An honor.”

Dang Soran stood and reached for a tall drawer on the wall behind us.

…Huh?

“…Didn’t you say you were getting poetry?”

“Yes. It’s here.”

…Why would Dang Soran’s poetry be in a guest room?

Isn’t that too personal for a guest room?

A strange feeling crept in.

I turned my head, slowly scanning the surroundings.

…Even for the Tang Clan of Sichuan, this room seemed overly luxurious.

And with each rising unease, the psychological spiderwebs felt denser.

“It’s a secret—”

Dang Soran smiled faintly.

“—This drawer holds things quite important to me.”

…But why keep such things in a guest room?

A sense of incongruity brushed past.

But before the doubt deepened—

Tak!

Something fell from the drawer with a thud.

“Ah…!”

She sighed.

I looked down at the item she’d dropped without thinking.

“…Huh?”

…It was a switch.

Very similar to the one I’d swung at her in the basement.