Chapter 66 - Martial Arts Masochist

They were on their way back to the alley where the games had begun once more. Cheong Wol had descended from Han Seo Jin's arms, now holding his hand as she moved forward. She found it impossible to articulate the emotions that had transformed within her in such a brief time. Initially, her heart was filled with tension and dislike, but now, as they headed back, she felt a peculiar sense of loss... and unexplainably, a hint of sorrow. Cheong Wol glanced down at their joined hands. The warmth transferring to her palm, the sweat, and the touch—they were sensations unfamiliar to someone who had led the life of a nun. It was only now she truly understood that a man’s hand could be this warm. Of course, had it been someone other than Han Seo Jin, she might have felt more discomfort. Yet, even that seemed strange. How could the hand of someone so intent on humiliating and shaming her be less off-putting? Because she knew nothing about men, all these sensations were bewildering and complex. Could it be gratitude for resolving her inner demons? Or was it the trust they had shared? In the distance, the place where they had started their game was coming into view. Without realizing it, Cheong Wol subconsciously applied pressure to her legs. Once this game ends... will it mean another ten days without meeting again? Will Han Seo Jin revert to being that timid man who pretended not to know her? With that thought, her face crumpled behind her veil. What once seemed like an easily permissible ten days now felt exasperatingly lengthy. “...Why?” Han Seo Jin questioned, noticing Cheong Wol's heavier steps. “...” She said nothing in return. Was she the only one who felt this sense of regret? Just earlier, he had remarked on her beauty and even said he wanted to kiss her... Of course, she wasn't entertaining weak thoughts of wanting a kiss or more admiration, yet it felt as if his words and actions were somehow out of sync. A kiss, no matter what, was definitely out of the question. Forcing such an action might truly earn him a slap from her. Still, after saying such things, shouldn't he show some lingering regret? “...It’s nothing.” She couldn't voice such things. Appearing as if she was the only one yearning left her pride stinging. Suppressing her feelings, she continued walking. Something about ending things like this felt unsatisfying. “Ah, what a pity,” someone spoke as if to echo her sentiments. Next to her, without her realizing, a young man had been walking alongside. “...Ah.” Cheong Wol recognized his face—a playful demeanor, light steps, slender build. He was the same man who had discreetly harassed her with suggestive comments whenever they crossed paths over the past few days. Had he passed his youth? He seemed a bit younger than she was, maybe around seventeen or eighteen, not quite a man, making the teasing feel even more like childish pranks. His friend, whom he seemed close with, asked, “Why the regret?” “Well, I wanted to see Lady Cheong Wol today, but I couldn't. I was sure she’d show up at the assembly.” “She was there earlier. She just left because of some matters. It’s late now, let's head home. Your mother must be waiting. You need to chop wood starting tomorrow.” “Really a bummer. When will I see someone as beautiful as Lady Cheong Wol again? I should have seen her perform her martial arts. She never showed it fully, just smiled.” The man persistently begging her to demonstrate her martial skills was indeed the same person. Cheong Wol unconsciously clenched her fist in anger once more. Why must she constantly be a subject of such harassment? Reality, which she had momentarily forgotten, crept back to her consciousness. When did she lose the ability to express her anger in front of anyone? What did reputation mean? What importance did her martial sect hold? The reality was bitter. Its weight suppressed her fury. But Cheong Wol knew. Engaging every time with such trifles would lead nowhere. The crowd couldn’t be dealt with. Stirring up a hornet’s nest unnecessarily would only worsen matters. Scratching every time something itched would eventually harm the skin. So she just had to pass by— “-Ah!” Suddenly, Han Seo Jin pulled Cheong Wol’s hand, walking directly toward the man. She was startled into silence by his unexpected action. -Smash!- Without hesitation, Han Seo Jin smacked the back of the man's head. “Ugh!” The man, clutching his head from the sudden blow, stumbled down. “What... what are you doing?!” Han Seo Jin raised his voice, looking down at him. “You little brat, there are words you just don’t say to a nun from the Emei Sect. You’re caught now, I’ve been wanting to discipline you every time I saw you these past days.” “How... how does this concern you?” -Smack!- Once again, Han Seo Jin whacked his head. “I’m from Emeisan, fool. You've shamed the Emei Sect in front of someone from Emeisan, and you think I’d let it slide? Come here, you little punk!” -Thud!- And with that, he kicked the man's backside. The man tumbled forward. The spectacle drew attention immediately. Conversations on the street halted, whispers arose. As relief and fear intertwined within Cheong Wol, she grasped Han Seo Jin's hand more firmly, bowing her head. The world still weighed on her shoulders. “Ugh, damn it!” Yet, it seemed not only she felt the pressure of the stares. The harassing boy, knowing his wrongdoing, couldn’t do much against the enraged Han Seo Jin, awkwardly crawling to his feet, and started to flee in a hurry. “Let me see you around again!” “I’m seeing you now, damn it! Just wait till I ask a senior from the Beggars' Sect, you’ll be found in no time!” “Uh, damn!” With that, the incident concluded. Those left behind burst into laughter. “Well done, young man. Sometimes it takes someone stepping up to teach a lesson.” “Good job there, young sir. I planned to act myself if you hadn't.” After a brief exchange of words, Han Seo Jin resumed walking. Cheong Wol calmed her startled heart and followed. As time passed, the memory of the scene replayed in her mind. “...Pfft.” Suddenly, she burst into laughter. “Hmm?” Han Seo Jin, observing her, showed curiosity at her reaction, while Cheong Wol couldn’t suppress her bright laughter any longer. “Hahaha!” Since resolutely deciding to become a proper woman of the Emei Sect, she had restrained such laughter to the utmost. A heroine doesn't laugh boisterously anywhere and everywhere. Traditionally, she might have only covered her mouth, giving a modest smile, but she found herself laughing aloud now. Cheong Wol couldn't suppress her laughter. There was no reason to. With her face hidden beneath the veil, she wasn't Cheong Wol of the Emei Sect anymore. She was Cheong Wol, the possession of Han Seo Jin. In that guise, she could laugh, cry, throw a tantrum, and even be a bit improper. She had already done all of this before him. It was okay to shed the pretentious restraints that bound her and become more of her true self. Tears of laughter started to gather at the corners of her eyes. The sight of that man, beaten and fleeing, had been so liberating, as if a weight had lifted from her chest. She slipped a hand beneath her veil to wipe the tears away. “Hah... Jang Joo, hitting someone with such a flimsy form isn’t going to hurt anyone.” “...It was just awkward using my left hand.” Cheong Wol smiled at Han Seo Jin. Being by his side was humiliating and shameful, yet conversely, it allowed her to be most herself. If she continued like this, she began to wonder if she'd fully overcome her internal demons one day. This hopeful thought made her feel exceedingly light. With Han Seo Jin around, the arduous life in the Emei Sect seemed more bearable. Cheong Wol held onto Han Seo Jin's hand even tighter. Today, she thought, was sufficient to be content with. Today, her heart was at peace again. She found his method of resolving her inner demons... utterly satisfying. **** I walked back into the alley with Cheong Wol—the place where all this play had started. As everything concluded without a hitch, my tension also eased. “...Phew.” I let out a long sigh and guided Cheong Wol back into the small opening between two alleyways. It was finally time to release her hand. “...?” But my fingers wouldn’t slip free. Cheong Wol's grip was still firm, her hand tightly clamped around mine. She must still be tense. I maintained my authoritative demeanor. "…Wol-ah. Are you clinging still? It's time to let go of my hand." “...” Opposite of my expectation for a passionate response, Cheong Wol remained silent. ...Why was she like this again? Had she exhausted herself to the point of no longer having the strength to react? After all, her legs had almost given out earlier. “Wol-ah, let go. It’s alright now.” “...Ah.” Cheong Wol belatedly relaxed her interlocked fingers. My fingertips tingled. Perhaps she had been holding so tightly that blood circulation was cut off. Gently, I lifted her veil, resting it atop her conical hat, and our eyes met. It was time to end this play. Yet, as our gazes locked, we both fell silent. ...I remembered the moment not long ago when she had laughed so brightly. Her laughter then had truly been surprising. I hadn't expected her to be this delighted just from me hitting that foolish kid. That punk should be grateful to me. If I hadn't dealt with him, Cheong Wol might have done it herself. The intensity would have been worlds apart. Still, Cheong Wol's laugh left a deep impression on me. I hadn't known she could laugh like that. In that moment of laughter, she seemed more like a fellow human being rather than a murderer. Her relief and distinct human emotion were touching and grounded. The longer our relationship continued... the more I felt as though I was gradually understanding the human side of her. Not the Cheong Wol of death and reputation, but the person Cheong Wol. This world is real. The characters I once read, who mechanically moved through the storyline, make choices and face conflicts right before my eyes. They converse, rage, laugh, and cry like any human does. Her laughter ushered this obvious truth freshly into my consciousness. And in that moment, an improbable thought crossed my mind. If I continued to manage and observe her like this, if I warned her about obstacles that might appear before her... If I guided her toward a more righteous path using my knowledge... Could it prevent a future where she becomes a calamity? Would it calm the storm of bloodshed that is to sweep across the martial world? It's not that I am indifferent to the impending chaos. Rather, knowing it too well makes me hide in fear. But if I could muster more courage here, could I perhaps make a difference?