Martial Arts Masochist

“…It’s punishment, so of course it’s like this.”

But all he did was snort.

Even this was a quiet shock to her.

Anyone in the Central Plains would bow their head at the mere mention of Dang Soran of the Tang Clan of Sichuan.

Yet here she was, having cast aside all her pride to make this request, and Han Seojin wouldn’t budge an inch.

“Ugh!!”

That humiliation now stirred a shallow anger and frustration within her.

Why do I have to keep getting hit like this?

Yes, I did wrong, but is there really any need to hit me this hard?

I asked for it myself.

That should be enough.

Han Seojin even gave permission, so it’s fine to hit me.

He told me to stop, so why won’t she listen?

“…I can tell you grew up completely spoiled.”

“…!”

Han Seojin continued the scolding.

Each word from him stabbed into her heart like a dagger.

Had he already resolved his heart demon at some point?

“Since when could the one being punished choose the severity?”

Ignoring her words completely—this was a first for Han Seojin.

“You’re only saying that because it hurts too much—”

“That won’t do. One more on top of that.”

Smack!!!

A meaningless lash, only because of her defiance.

“Kyaa!!”

The sound of his belt striking her buttocks echoed loudly.

If this weren’t the second-floor bedroom, the noise would have rung out loud enough for everyone outside to hear.

However, Dang Soran’s bedroom was well soundproofed. No matter how much she groaned in pain, there was no one around to hear.

Han Seojin’s whipping grew ever fiercer.

Dang Soran’s buttocks throbbed as if they were on fire.

“How many more do you need?”

Han Seojin asked the same question again.

“Haa… haaah…!”

Dang Soran swallowed her grievances and answered.

“N-No… stop… please…”

“How many more?!”

“Ugh…!”

Han Seojin’s belt rose high into the air.

Dang Soran had no choice but to shout back. Otherwise, this pointless punishment would drag on.

“…Th-Three!!”

“…”

“…Three more…”

…She really wanted it to end now.

All that held her back was her pathetic pride.

It was because of the title: Eldest Daughter of the Tang Clan of Sichuan.

Her mind broke under the humiliation, shame, and pain.

Some might say it was just a few hits, but…

…Dang Soran no longer understood the meaning behind this pain.

Accepting the punishment had been mere self-deception to ease her guilt.

But now, the stimulation was too intense for even that to hold.

This wasn’t sparring. It wasn’t training.

She was just getting hit.

This wouldn’t make her wicked self good, nor erase her sin of looking down on the common folk.

It wouldn’t turn the her who subtly pushed Cheongwol aside to steal Han Seojin’s attention back into a good person.

It was all just self-satisfaction.

In the end, she changed her mind.

“Stop… I’ll stop now.”

Smack!!!

“Ahhh!!”

The next strike came without warning.

Dang Soran let out a groan, then shouted loudly.

“Stop…! I said stop!!”

She didn’t need it anymore.

Her buttocks stung fiercely.

A part of her that should have been treated preciously ached with utter humiliation.

“It hurts!! It hurts so much!!”

She didn’t need Han Seojin anymore.

Give him back to Cheongwol.

She wanted to stop.

What on earth was she doing?

How pathetic did she look, getting hit just for her own satisfaction?

How cheap did she look, thrusting out her buttocks while subdued by a man?

Why was she defiling herself like this?

Why had she permitted herself to this beggar who showed her no consideration at all?

“My father will hear about this soon—hurry up and—”

Smack!!!

“!!!”

Dang Soran clenched her teeth to stifle her groan, unwilling to break any further.

This was no longer about getting hit for self-satisfaction.

It was defiance against this worthless beggar—to refuse to submit.

Rebellion against this quack heart demon doctor, who wouldn’t change even if she begged pathetically for mercy.

Should she awaken her dantian?

No, better not.

Then she truly wouldn’t be able to forgive herself.

Luring commoners into a trap, making them punish her, then shattering them by awakening her qi the moment things went wrong.

That would be no different from the ways of the unorthodox sects.

Now, she suppressed her anger.

Just one more.

Endure just one more.

The last one.

Then think about punishing that beggar afterward.

That way, he couldn’t go back on his word.

He couldn’t claim the heart demon treatment failed because she didn’t endure to the end.

“Hoo… hoo…”

Biting down hard on the blanket, her eyes blazing as she endured—beside Dang Soran like that.

Han Seojin slowly sat down.

Thud.

His belt dropped right in front of her face.

Flinch!

Dang Soran flinched in fear of another strike and squeezed her eyes shut, but Han Seojin merely left the belt there without moving.

“…Seven’s done.”

Han Seojin said softly.

Dang Soran’s eyes shook like an earthquake.

“H-Huh, but… you said one more…”

“I keep my first promises. Anything said in between is just words.”

Dang Soran’s heart was in turmoil.

Is this the end?

Relief washed over her, yet anger still simmered…

What had been the point of this violent, humiliating ordeal?

What had changed?

She had thrown away her pride and face, but her self-loathing remained firmly in place.

All that was left was her burning buttocks and her shattered pride.

“…Untie my sleeves and get out.”

Without thinking, Dang Soran spat harsh words.

Words the real her never would have said, no matter how broken.

But intense emotions drove her.

If she didn’t say it like this, she feared she’d want to pay that worthless beggar back somehow.

Yet Han Seojin didn’t move.

Suppressing her rising fury, she glared up at him with indignation.

“Didn’t you hear? Untie me and get—”

Swish.

In that moment, his fingertips gently touched her forehead.

Flinch.

Dang Soran’s shoulders trembled reflexively.

She had braced for him to grab her hair again over her rude words.

But…

The touch that followed was astonishingly gentle.

Not pain, but warmth; not pressure, but comfort; not punishment, but reward enveloped her forehead.

“…Did it hurt?”

It was an unfamiliar question.

“…Huh?”

He had only been angry and whipping her.

Yet from his lips came a tender voice.

Dang Soran reflexively parted her lips, but no words came out.

A sudden reversal of emotions.

Her anger crumbled in an instant, and hot feelings surged up from somewhere.

That hand still stroked her hair.

“You endured well.”

At those words, her heart quietly flipped.

“…You did really well, Soran. So pretty.”

From her hair to her cheek, then back to her hair—his hand caressed her.

“…”

She couldn’t open her mouth again.

She was confused.

Why was he saying things like this now?

She tried to get angry, but her throat choked up. She tried to reclaim her pride, but her eyes stung.

Defiant, she whispered.

“…You hit me… I told you to stop… but you kept hitting me…!”

“I’m sorry for hurting you. But I didn’t stop… because you mustered the courage to come to me, so I responded in kind with all my heart.”

His incomprehensible violence paled against this sincere comfort.

It was easier to believe.

“You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?”

Each shocking word of consolation made her shoulders tremble faintly.

Faint sobs leaked out like whimpers.

Dang Soran blinked in surprise, but she was the only one who could make that sound.

He looked at her with pitying eyes.

“How much heartache must you have suffered… to even think of punishing yourself? How badly did you want to be good… to ask punishment from me?”

“…Ugh…!”

Swish…

Han Seojin untied her sleeves.

Her hands were suddenly free.

Yet she had no strength to move them. She felt trapped to the bed and her body by her very consciousness.

“I only punished you because you wanted it. I know how hard you’ve been trying.”

“…”

“Even on the outskirts of Mount Emei, stories about you reached me. Tales of your good deeds spread like fairy tales. How much effort must that have taken… I can only imagine.”

He mentioned her past self.

The asceticism in loneliness that no one knew.

The days she threw herself into being good.

“Soran, I didn’t punish you because I hate you. Quite the opposite. I don’t think you’re a bad child at all. Is there anyone prettier than you?”

Dang Soran buried her face in the bed.

…I’m pretty?

Her freed arms crossed, burying her eyes.

She clutched the blanket tight, hiding her expression.

“Look at today. Enduring so well—you can’t be a bad child.”

At those words,

Drip…

Ridiculous tears fell.

She even let out a hollow laugh at herself.

After such intense anger, now these surging emotions.

She couldn’t comprehend the drastic shift.

Yet the tears wouldn’t stop.

“I even heard you shut yourself in your room because of your heart demon. That must be the result of your kindness too. You didn’t want to… hurt anyone, so you endured alone, right?”

“…That’s not…”

She tried to deny it.

“It wasn’t…”

But denial was hard.

“Ugh…”

Who would ever understand?

Yet the fact that someone did made her heart pound.

Nights spent alone came to mind.

Moments she had to hold back tears by herself.

She hated her ugly self so much.

“You’re good, Soran. You’ll be a hero in the future.”

But Han Seojin said the opposite.

At those words, a crack formed in her heart.

Dang Soran shook her head at the change.

“I… hng… I… secretly looked down on people…”

“Everyone does. Who doesn’t? Don’t torment yourself over something natural.”

“Ugh… Young Master, you… actually looked down on…”

“I was dressed like a beggar—of course. It’s fine. And about me, I’ll forgive you.”

“Bad temptations… keep whispering in my ears…”

“Don’t you get how amazing it is that you kept them hidden from everyone?”

“But—”

“—Soran. I’m telling you, you’re not bad. Wouldn’t you be prettier if you listened?”

Han Seojin kept gently stroking her hair.

The Han Seojin who had punished her by his own firm standards, no matter how much she begged.

The resolute man who never wavered even before the name Dang Soran of the Tang Clan of Sichuan.

“…You’ve been punished. Your buttocks still hurt, right? Now forgive yourself.”

He affirmed her.

He told her everything was okay.

As he said, her buttocks still throbbed.

That was payment enough for her sins, Han Seojin said.

Dang Soran gritted her teeth, holding back her emotions.

“Ugh… ugh!”

But suddenly, her heart felt wide open.

A liberating breath of fresh air came.

“Hng!”

Soon, Dang Soran burst into childish sobs. She couldn’t hold back anymore.

She wailed loudly, “Waaah!”

Tension, pride, arrogance—all crumbled.

The grievance from the pain, the comfort that followed—both brought tears.

“I told you not to cry.”

She hadn’t planned to cry. Just like she’d expected at first, she had no intention of yielding to violence.

However, it wasn’t the violence that made her cry.

It was his one warm word.

While she cried, Han Seojin quietly brushed back her hair.

Praise like “You’re pretty,” “You’re good,” “You did well”… he continued, caressing her.

Gently, tenderly.

…And each of his touches etched deep into Dang Soran’s heart.

His punishments were fierce, but his warmth… was just as warm.

Words that made her chest surge even more.

Sweet whispers she hadn’t heard since becoming an adult.

Dang Soran accepted that parental touch while crying like a child.

Ah.

Even as she cried, Dang Soran thought.

Please keep stroking me.

And now she knew exactly.

…Why Cheongwol coveted this shabby man.

Even without clinging to others’ standards, Dang Soran could feel it too.