Martial Arts Masochist

It just comes into view.

If I don’t move, it’s death.

Cheongwol is smashing the temple wall, getting confined, fighting her master.

It’s absolute chaos. Enough to throw Mount Emei into turmoil.

And while her rampage might partly stem from Yeongcheon’s proposal shaking her…

Of course, I must be part of the reason too.

All this time, when Cheongwol kept approaching me to resolve her heart demon, I kept dodging her with all sorts of excuses.

Me, who always made excuses about hating martial artists, did SM play with my rival Dang Soran?

Leaving marks on her butt big enough to last?

She must’ve been pissed just looking at it.

The fact that she’s not coming to find me is already a huge change.

It’s like telling me to drop dead.

…I have to move.

My house is on fire; I can’t wait for rain.

I need to actively fetch water and put it out.

Same thing now.

“Huff… huff…”

I climbed Mount Emei.

Mount Emei is tall and vast. Countless peaks jut toward the sky like thorns.

Each peak hosts its own temple, showcasing the Emei Sect’s prestige.

Even if some group launches an assault, there’s plenty of space to fend them off.

Baoguo Temple, Wannian Temple, Wanfo Pavilion, Fuhu Temple, and so on…

Famous temples abound, but I had only one destination.

Fuhu Temple.

The central temple of the Emei Sect where the female disciples take their rest.

I’d already passed the male prohibition zone long ago.

If an Emei Sect nun spots me… well, worst case, I’d get chased off Mount Emei, but with my life on the line, no reason to hesitate.

“Huff… huff…”

But why is this mountain so damn high?

Am I even going the right way?

The terrain is so rugged and immense, I’m not even sure if I’m on the right path.

To avoid the main road where I’d likely get spotted, I was blazing a trail along the shoulder.

Using the sporadically visible Fuhu Temple as my guide, I kept climbing.

Climbing at night is terrifying.

I won’t get eaten by a mountain beast, right?

Who knows—if that happens, I’ll just yell for help. Someone will come.

It wasn’t easy, but I finally reached Fuhu Temple.

“…”

Looking at the temple, it was ridiculous to think this, but… it smelled like incense.

The atmosphere was so lofty.

Even fragile came to mind.

Even though the mountain I’m on is already in the male prohibition zone, Fuhu Temple takes it to another level.

Even if the Shaolin abbot or the world’s greatest master showed up, no man could enter.

I swallowed hard.

“…Haa.”

Catching my breath, I slumped into the bushes to gather my courage.

If I don’t go, I’m dead, right?

Male prohibition zone, taboos—who cares? I have to survive.

…But it was insanely embarrassing. To myself.

I’m not breaking into the male prohibition zone for SM play, am I?

Into the prestigious Emei Sect’s Fuhu Temple, no less…

Every time sanity crept in, reality hit hard, so I decided to stop thinking.

‘I have to do what needs doing. Build your own righteousness that way.’

Uncle’s words.

Words I’d always snorted at, but now they bolstered me.

This sure as hell isn’t righteousness, but I knew I had to do it anyway.

I steeled myself and gazed at Fuhu Temple.

The front gate was more unguarded than expected—wide open.

One Emei Sect disciple stood before it.

Humming a tune, counting stars.

She didn’t seem particularly vigilant.

Even in the deep male prohibition zone, they probably never imagined some lunatic infiltrating Fuhu Temple.

She stood there like a bored conscript in his last days.

Whatever the reason, their lax guard was good news for me.

But I couldn’t just stroll through the front gate.

I decided to circle the outskirts widely, looking for a gap.

‘Ahahaha. Really?’

‘Yeah, she was staring at me with those hot eyes, so I just flashed a smile.’

“Gasp!”

Circling Fuhu Temple, a refined woman’s voice echoed.

The reality of what I was doing slammed into me.

Felt like sneaking into the women’s bath.

Just hearing the voice felt like committing a sin.

This won’t do either. Let’s circle a bit more.

After a wide loop, I spotted what seemed to be the wall Cheongwol had smashed.

No one guarded it.

I don’t know martial arts, but… the wall bore violent marks.

It hit me again: Cheongwol is the monster I know.

How does a person with just a sword smash a stone wall?

I’d need a hammer and a full day of work to make that mess.

I crept stealthily to the crumbled wall.

“…Ah.”

There she was.

Inside Fuhu Temple, in the wide plaza.

Atop the large pavilion there, incense burning… a woman kneeling.

Maybe she, the cause, was guarding this wall as punishment.

A blue moon hovered behind her head, illuminating her.

It was Cheongwol.

For a moment, it made me forget my fear—like a painting.

Any man from the Central Plains might fall for her at first sight.

Cheongwol meditated with eyes closed, hair fluttering.

Her strangely fragile appearance pricked at my heart.

While her fellow disciples laughed and unwound from the day’s tension…

Cheongwol sat alone in the deep night, composing her mind in the pavilion.

…Has she always been like that?

Always so alone?

I hadn’t seen much, but in that instant, I vaguely understood her obsession with resolving her heart demon.

I could almost see why she’d leave the Emei Sect someday.

It stung. Maybe because of her beauty, but my heart felt uneasy.

Tap tap.

I tapped my cheeks a couple times, snapping out of it.

Deep breath to steady myself.

Then, cautiously, I stepped over the crumbled wall into Fuhu Temple’s grounds.

…I’m desperate too.

If she really defects to the Demonic Cult, I doubt I’ll survive anymore.

****

“Gack… hack…!”

A pathetic sound leaked from her mouth.

But her world shook so violently she couldn’t care.

She couldn’t believe the sensation on her throat.

Couldn’t believe the voice in her ears.

Was she dreaming?

From behind, rough hands gripped her throat tight.

She couldn’t see his face, but his strength reached her.

The last person she’d expect here—even in death—was Han Seojin.

This was the Emei Sect. Fuhu Temple.

Strict male prohibition zone.

No man had entered in a century, maybe longer.

Even the mightiest couldn’t break that rule.

Yet Han Seojin shattered common sense again.

Cheongwol wanted to ask how he got here.

“Hack… gack!”

But the sound from her throat wasn’t her refined voice.

It was the desperate thrashing of a beast fighting to live.

His large hand crushed her freedom.

“When I tell you to appear before me… you show up immediately.”

“Kek…! Hek!”

“Did you think you could ignore my words and get away with it?”

Han Seojin whispered each word directly into Cheongwol’s ear.

Clinging to his arm, her head rested on his shoulder.

It felt like her whole body was restrained by him.

If not for the hand on her throat, it’d look like she was in his embrace.

His low voice etched into her mind, a rough stimulus.

A shocking jolt that melted her brain.

…I’m going to die.

Cheongwol thought without realizing.

A thought she’d never had even against bandits.

Can’t breathe.

She could break free easily by rousing her dantian, but circulating qi wasn’t so simple.

Her life was in Han Seojin’s hand.

When had she last felt this powerless?

She, who was training to become the Emei Sect Leader’s successor.

Who would call this pathetic sight the future of the Emei Sect?

She, who should be noble, lofty, elegant, strong—now wretched, powerless, pathetic, gasping with her throat gripped.

What terrified her most was that she didn’t hate it.

Cheongwol came to her senses, truly trying to pry off Han Seojin’s hand.

But truly, his hand didn’t budge.

Without using qi, she couldn’t overcome a man’s physical strength.

Yet no fear arose that he’d really harm her… Instead, only the realization that he dominated her.

Terrifying, yet comforting at once.

“Kek…! Khek!”

Cheongwol ended up thrashing.

Twisting, shaking his wrist.

She looked like a small beast pathetically wriggling—like coquetry.

Clack.

“Hahk! Haa! Haa…!”

Only then did Han Seojin lightly release his grip.

Cheongwol instinctively gulped air.

The rush dizzied her mind.

And in that moment, a small droplet of clear saliva trickled onto his wrist.

“Ah!”

Her eyes locked there.

Breathing was more urgent, but she fixated on the drool she’d left on Han Seojin.

Worried he’d get mad.

Worried he’d be disgusted.

…Why am I reading his mood?

Cheongwol thought amid gasps.

“Haa… haa…”

He’d choked her breathless, yet instead of anger, she groveled over a bit of drool.

Thinking of his feelings before her own humiliation.

Like a dog fawning over its master like heaven.

Swipe… swipe…

Still, Cheongwol carefully wiped her saliva with her sleeve.

Doubts swirled in her head… but right now, wiping that one spot felt paramount.

“Speak.”

Meanwhile, Han Seojin gave her an opening.

“Why didn’t you appear before me?”

“…”

Only then did Cheongwol’s mind clear.

And pent-up emotions surged like a tide.

Grievance, injustice bubbling up.

Tick.

Cheongwol whipped her head away from his voice.

A blatant sulky gesture.

But turning her head changed nothing—she was still in his arms.

Swipe.

Silently, Han Seojin tightened his grip on her throat.

“Ah…!”

Cheongwol had no choice but to speak.

“Th-the Owner…!”

Han Seojin’s hand stiffened.

“…The Owner… betrayed me!”

Her voice trembled at the end.

Her chest ached.

Tears welled again.

“Betrayed?”

“I…! I told you not to do it with Dang Soran…! You promised too! Wasn’t it you who broke it?”

Cheongwol poured out what she’d wanted to ask.

She expected something back—at least an apology.

But she got a cold snort.

“Since when could you give me orders?”

“…Huh?”

“Dealing with a pathetic thing like you is more than you deserve. Still don’t get it?”

Pathetic thing.

Words Cheongwol would never tolerate.

Yet strangely, the insult lodged in her ears lewdly.

Revulsion and depravity twisted oddly within.

Who but Han Seojin would treat her this way?

“Before, I was too nice to you. Right?”

“Ow-Owner…”

“Held your hand, gave you dangho liquor—forgot your place. What, people hype you up, so you think you’re something?”

Han Seojin suddenly shifted his weight onto Cheongwol.

“Eek!”

She crumpled forward.

Han Seojin picked up the teapot before her.

Casually brought it to his lips and drank.

Gulp, gulp—a couple swallows of the cold tea passed.

Poke!

“Mmph!”

Ruthlessly, the spout jammed into Cheongwol’s mouth too.

No time to hesitate; she was forced to drink.

A far cry from the warm touch when he’d gifted her dangho liquor.

Deprived even of refusing food, forced to drain the tea, Cheongwol finally coughed.

“Cough! Cough!!”

Han Seojin asked.

“Tell me. What are you?”

“Wh-what?”

“You think you can order me around? What are you?”

Words people had used for her flashed through Cheongwol’s mind.

Emei Sect’s Thousand-Year Flower.

Emei Sect Leader’s disciple.

Future Emei Sect Leader.

Proud heroine. Orthodox saint.

Lofty nun beyond compare.

Even called the world’s greatest beauty.

Words that were sometimes shackles, sometimes pride.

“I… I’m…”

“You’re just my pet.”

…And Han Seojin’s pet.

“H… haa…”

At the absurd drop, Cheongwol let out a hollow laugh.

But she couldn’t understand why it made her heart race.

Slither, clack!

While dazed by his insults, a familiar foreign sensation settled on her neck.

“Huh?”

A dog collar was already fastened.

“Ah, no!”

Cheongwol freaked out in rejection.

This wasn’t the masked Holy Maiden.

Nor far away.

This was Emei Sect’s Fuhu Temple.

The heart of her living quarters.

A bit further, third-generation disciples’ dorms.

Next to that, senior brothers’ quarters too.

Her master, the Sect Leader—all lived here.

If they appeared by mistake, they’d see her collared like a dog.

It’d be over.

She couldn’t even veil her face.

Not Emei Sect’s future, but the rundown Leather Room Owner’s stray mutt.

“Please…! Ow-Owner…! Not here…!”

Cheongwol forgot her resentment, begging Han Seojin.

She quickly turned, facing him for the first time.

But Han Seojin already stood tall in the pavilion.

Like a real mutt, collared, Cheongwol had to look up at him.

“Take it off, Owner, please…!”

Forehead to the ground like a dog, she clung to his leg.

But the more desperate she got, the wider his smile grew.

Pleased by his puppy’s coquetry.

“Fun in the Holy City, huh?”

“Ow… Owner…”

“You got cocky because I put up with you… What? Betrayal? Ridiculous.”

“U… ugh… I-I’m sorry…”

“Tonight’s punishment, Wol-ah. I’ll teach you properly so you never forget your place again.”

Clack!

“Eut!”

The forgotten pressure hit her throat.

Her body yanked helplessly.

Han Seojin smiled.

Cheongwol’s time slowed in that smile.

…Ah.

Even in this humiliating situation.

Even in this revolting moment, she thought it.

…That smile looks good.

Born from tormenting her, yet she wanted to see more.

A thought she absolutely shouldn’t have, given her plight.

She’d always gone to Han Seojin.

Thought he was running from her.

…But he came to me.

That mattered most.

“Wol-ah.”

Han Seojin said.

“Let’s go for a walk.”