Martial Arts Masochist

The next day, Dang Soran dozed off atop the donkey, her head bobbing.

She muttered to herself, thinking it was fine if I heard or not.

“…It’s nice and quiet now.”

Grrrrumble…

Her stomach replied in her stead.

I let out a chuckle.

It felt so refreshing.

That arrogant little brat had finally shut up after just a week, and life felt livable again.

Plus, the girl who’d been hogging all the good food and comfy beds had finally shared my experiences.

My own tragedy had come to an end.

Even she, who’d been full of energy, seemed to have found her true self at last.

Dang Soran swayed unsteadily on the donkey, her body tilting as if she might topple off.

“Gotcha!”

I grabbed her right away.

Dang Soran’s eyes fluttered open slightly.

The moment she saw my face, she whined.

“…I’m sleepy, Young Master…”

As if she really was exhausted, she leaned her whole body against my arm.

I shook her awake without warning.

“Wake up! You’ll fall off!”

“I’m sleepy, I said… I couldn’t sleep last night…”

“You could’ve just slept on the ground! Why didn’t you?”

“I’ve… never slept on the ground even once… Father said to maintain my dignity…”

Dang Soran’s body was even weaker than I’d thought.

Whether she’d given up or not, she kept leaning more of her weight on me.

As I slowly eased my grip, she really did slide off the donkey.

I let out an exasperated laugh but gently lowered her to the ground.

She slept soundly, snoring away.

…See? She can sleep on the ground just fine.

“…Sigh.”

Just one day had passed, and my resolve was already softening.

Seeing her truly lost to sleep, unable to do anything, pricked at my conscience.

The quiet was nice, but watching her suffer was a bit heartbreaking.

This was all because of me, in the end. We were heading out to find the Detoxification Immortal Root.

“…”

In the end, I hoisted her onto my back.

“…Urk.”

Before long, Dang Soran was drooling all over my shoulder.

I started regretting the decision.

****

“Sluuurp…”

Dang Soran sucked back in her drool as she woke.

The soft sensation enveloping her body made her freeze instantly.

She grasped the situation right away.

But she couldn’t react.

If she opened her eyes and looked down, she’d see Han Seojin’s shoulder, soaked through.

She’d drooled. Poison Phoenix Dang Soran, on the shoulder of the Leather Room’s owner.

It was mortifying enough to scream, making her just as desperate to pretend it never happened.

Dang Soran grimaced but kept up the act of sleeping.

“…Hm? You’re awake?”

But Han Seojin must have sensed something, as he asked.

With no choice, Dang Soran exaggerated her breathing to fake sleep.

“…What the. Still out, huh. Jeez…”

His reaction made it impossible for her to get up.

What kind of mess was this in front of the man she’d teased so much?

How could she slip off his back without dying of embarrassment?

She imagined countless scenarios, but none worked.

“…”

She just stewed in her shame, wriggling inwardly.

She couldn’t muster any response until they reached their destination.

Her chest rubbing against him bothered her, but she couldn’t tense up.

“…So soft.”

Han Seojin muttered.

Dang Soran bit her lip to stifle her embarrassment.

Was he talking about her whole body, her thighs he was holding, or her chest against him…? She never found out.

.

.

.

“…This?”

“Yeah.”

“…For real?”

“The food’s getting cold. Eat up.”

Dang Soran thought this was Han Seojin’s revenge.

For riding on his back and drooling all over him.

She stared at the porridge in front of her.

Thin gruel made by boiling a bit of rice in stream water.

No veggies or meat—just millet, tiny pebbles, and bugs.

“…Stop joking and give me real food—”

“—Whoa, this turned out great today? Looks perfect, doesn’t it, Miss?”

Meanwhile, Han Seojin’s face was all smiles.

Before Dang Soran could protest, he started scooping and shoveling it into his mouth.

He ate ferociously, and that crude sight oddly whetted her appetite.

The quality was low, but it came off as strangely primal, even manly.

“Man, this is delicious. Nothing beats a meal after hard labor.”

Dang Soran chuckled unwittingly.

Then she was startled by her own smile.

A smile she never would have shown no matter what back in the Tang Clan of Sichuan—yet here she was, grinning at this low-class Leather Room owner so easily?

His happiness was rubbing off on her.

Seeing him so pleased inexplicably soothed her.

Dang Soran looked down at her portion.

Food she wouldn’t touch even if offered a fortune back home.

…But she was starving right now.

Watching Han Seojin devour it sparked her curiosity.

Who’d have thought I’d eat slop like this someday? Being with Han Seojin always brought the unexpected.

Dang Soran hesitated, then picked out the pebbles and bugs with her chopsticks.

“Don’t pick at it—dig in hearty! Can’t even handle that, growing up all pampered?”

Dang Soran scowled briefly but had no retort.

She didn’t want one anyway. This was the man who’d carried her all day.

He’d shared his food too.

She quietly brought the porridge to her lips.

“…?”

It tasted better than expected.

The rice had a nutty flavor. The grains had a nice chew.

Was it because she’d starved since yesterday?

The warm porridge settled in, heating her belly.

It melted away the day’s fatigue.

“Pfft!”

Right then, Han Seojin snickered.

Hearing that, Dang Soran panicked, her eyes going wide.

“Teasing me all this time, but even Poison Phoenix can’t resist hunger, huh? What was it—said you’d die before eating dog food. Now you’re face-deep in it.”

Han Seojin flipped and started teasing her.

Dang Soran felt her face burn with shame as she whispered.

“Wh-who said I wanted any…? You told me to shovel it in. I-I just didn’t want to be a burden if I didn’t eat…”

“Sure, sure. Can’t have you gnawing on my shoulder again from hunger. Aigoo. I can still smell that refined drool of yours—”

Dang Soran finally snapped, scooping a bit of porridge onto her spoon and flinging it at Han Seojin.

“—Take that!”

Splat!

The porridge splatted onto Han Seojin’s face.

Only then did Dang Soran regain her spirit, bursting into laughter.

“Ahahaha! What’s with that face, Young Master? You look so cute all flustered—”

Splat!

Warmth bloomed on her head.

Han Seojin with an empty spoon. His triumphant grin.

She touched her hair—porridge was lightly stuck there.

“…Ah… No…”

Dang Soran had never imagined this lowborn would actually throw food at her.

He wasn’t the Han Seojin from that room back then, nor had he shown such emotional reactions before.

With her money gone, her dignity had vanished too, it seemed, letting him treat her so casually.

Seeing her flustered, Han Seojin smiled this time.

“Do that again, and I’ll really dump it all on you.”

“Y-you… Have you forgotten who I—”

“—A girl sponging off a penniless beggar of a Leather Room owner after blowing all her cash?”

“…”

Han Seojin smiled as he tried to wrap it up.

“…Alright, we’ve had our laughs. Let’s just eat.”

In that moment, competitive fire bloomed in Dang Soran’s chest.

Irritation vanished, replaced by the urge to win.

“Hyah!”

Splat!!

Dang Soran dumped all the porridge on Han Seojin’s head.

Thud thud!

Then she bolted.

Her heart pounded with thrill she hadn’t felt in ages.

Han Seojin jumped up too, chasing after her with porridge dripping.

“Get back here!!”

Seeing him angry and trying to grab her filled Dang Soran’s heart with pure joy.

She loved his gaze on her. The thrill of finally making him mad.

“Ahahahaha!!”

When was the last time she’d played so childishly? It felt like regressing to childhood.

She couldn’t recall the last time she’d laughed so freely.

Dang Soran ran for a while before letting herself get caught.

Han Seojin grabbed her from behind and slowly poured porridge over her head.

Then with his rough hands, he smeared it across her face like he was staining it.

“Eek…! A-are you crazy? Pfht!”

Her small face was caught in his big, calloused hand.

Dang Soran didn’t know why her heart suddenly raced at his touch.

Her smiling cheeks flushed.

Laughter grew hard. Her body heated up. The mood shifted in an instant.

It felt like she was being devoured by his hand.

Her beautiful face, cherished by her parents, was being defiled by cheap porridge and Han Seojin’s dirty hands.

No one in the Tang Clan of Sichuan had ever treated her this way.

The sensation of being dominated gently stirred something deep inside her.

“…Warm, right?”

Han Seojin whispered dangerously.

It felt like he was letting slip the personality he hid so well.

Swept up in it, Dang Soran turned to look at him, her eyes faintly flushed.

Her breathing grew ragged too.

Whenever he got serious, it was always her who ended up tormented.

Thoughts of being dirtied by porridge vanished in the moment.

…Can’t start anything here.

Dang Soran glanced around.

Open plains—no place to hide.

…If she had money, maybe an inn.

Dang Soran swallowed her regret and whined softly.

“M-my face… N-now my clothes are filthy too.”

“Told you not to. Ah, no… I did, right?”

His domineering tone softened to politeness again.

“…Still… what now?”

“Wash up.”

“Where…?”

“Stream’s right there.”

Something a lowborn would do. Everyone could see you bathing in a stream.

Step by step, she was learning Han Seojin’s way of life.

Without money, he somehow seemed more reliable, more solid.

She never would’ve accepted it before, but Dang Soran nodded.

She had to wash up anyway.