Chapter 2 The Thousand Year Flower of The Emei Sect(2) - Martial Arts Masochist

The Emei Sect's Millennium Flower (2) Going to the basement is not an option. "But, young lady, isn't it a bit inappropriate to enter an unrelated man's abode alone, especially for someone from the Emei Sect who avoids men?" Cheongwol seemed puzzled by my intense reaction, yet she didn’t waver. "Don't worry. I can take care of myself." Her tone was as if to say, 'How dare you think you could do anything to me?' ...Indeed. However, I couldn't back down either. "What I mean is that if even a tiny blemish were to appear on your reputation, it would be problematic. Who would think well of someone as noble as the Millennium Flower of Emei being associated with someone like me?" At that, Cheongwol's expression instantly turned cold. "...I don't particularly like that title, Millennium Flower of Emei." I felt as if I was standing in the middle of a minefield. One wrong move and I’d end up like the pieces of cold meat beside me. Cheongwol spoke again. "There's hardly anyone awake this late at night, and the reason I asked to borrow the basement was to avoid people’s eyes. Who’s there to see me?" "..." She had a point. There wasn’t a flaw in her reasoning. ...Wait, did I owe her something? Why is she so bold? Is she expecting me to just hand over the room while scratching my belly? And I'm supposed to just say, 'Oh, yes'? "..." ...Guess I have no choice. If not, I'll end up overwhelmed and outmatched. Yet, if the basement was discovered, the result would be the same. Desperately, I concocted another excuse. "Actually, young lady..." "Go on." "There's already someone... a lady I'm discreetly seeing is staying in the basement." Cheongwol's eyes widened for a moment, as if taken by surprise. Seizing the moment, I continued, "We're secretly meeting away from the villagers’ eyes. We had vowed to spend this evening together..." "..." "So, even if you come to the basement, hiding would be impossible." Cheongwol composed herself and spoke calmly. "Could I hear this lady's name?" She clearly didn’t believe me. "As I mentioned, it's a confidential relationship." "I've already shared a secret with you, the head. Isn’t it fair for you to share one with me?" I never asked to know her secret. Honestly, I felt like crying. Yet those words were trapped in my throat. Her cool sword at her side spoke far more persuasively than any logic I could muster. In the end, crumbling under Cheongwol's pressure, I blurted out a name at random. "There... is someone named Okji." "Okji...? I’ve never heard that name. Whose daughter is she?" Ah, right. She knows the village dynamics. "O-Okdan. I was so nervous that I misspoke." "If it's Okdan... Ah, you mean the second daughter of the village chief?" I had never even exchanged a word with Okdan, but in this instance, I had no choice but to use her name. I'm sorry, Okdan. "Yes, that’s correct." "Isn't that lady already associated with the blacksmith's son?" ...She was? But how does a nun secluded in the mountains know more about the village than I do? Even if I usually keep my distance from people, isn’t this a bit much? "...How do you know such details, Miss Cheongwol?" At my question, for the first time, Cheongwol averted her gaze slightly. "...My seniors and juniors show quite the interest in secular affairs, so now and then I come across such news." ...Is this a boarding school? Spreading rumors every time someone dates? ...And how come they never knew my name? I replied nonetheless. "Well... let's just say Okdan and I have a... complicated relationship." Cheongwol clearly didn’t buy it. After a moment of pursing her lips, she finally spoke. "As I've mentioned, my seniors and juniors are quite interested in secular affairs, and I hear things. I understand you're not much of an attraction among the village women." "...Excuse me?" "...You're somewhat of a loner." You sly... "Are you sure Okdan is really in the basement?" I couldn't answer. And just like that, my well-crafted lie was exposed. "..." "..." Cheongwol softened her stance. "I know it’s inconvenient for you. But I can’t appear like this in front of the headmaster." Bloodied appearance. "If you're even slightly thankful for handling the bandits you might have encountered... help me just this once." "..." There were no more excuses to give. In retrospect, she also wouldn’t be fond of my attitude. Though I haven’t fully turned to villainy, she had cleaned up the bandits I might have stumbled upon, and here I was, showing no appreciation. ...Thinking about it, could today’s stubbornness come back to bite me later? Perhaps, when I am going around as the cult's Seven Heavens, killing indiscriminately, this incident would become an issue? Maybe she'll say someday, ‘Head, you ignored me back then.’ ...Sigh. I hated the thought, but my resolve was crumbling. ...Fine, as long as she doesn’t see the basement, I thought. "If I help you this once, we go our separate ways." I declared. "I will completely forget this day, and you will forget about it too." "Promise me that you won't harm me in any way after this." "How could I possibly harm you, Head?" "Please promise." I spoke firmly. Both of us understood how peculiar this situation was. She had mercilessly killed people; how could I not make such a request? Since things had come to this, I needed to gain something from the situation. "I promise," Cheongwol answered. It felt strange making such a promise with a future villain, but ultimately, I relented. "Please use one of the rooms inside the shop. I'll retreat to the basement and won't come out until daylight. Feel free to rest or leave at dawn, whichever you prefer." Cheongwol nodded, brushing her hair back. "Thank you." **** After deciding to have nothing to do with the martial arts world, the hardest thing I faced wasn't hunger. Surprisingly, hunger wasn't a big problem. If I stuck with the beggars from the Beggar Sect, starving was nearly impossible. Cold? With the help of the Beggar Sect, I survived that too. They had many chivalrous souls who shared blankets to fend off the chill, despite the smell. Looking back, I considered continuing as a beggar, but the Beggar Sect was really for those who were selfless and chivalrous to the core. Someone as ordinary and ambitious as me couldn’t last there. Having sworn off the martial arts world, over ten years I trained, learned crafts, and eventually set up my own leather shop, independent of the Beggar Sect members. Although called a leather workshop, in reality, it was more of a general store. I made items like straw shoes and ropes—anything for a living. Loneliness wasn't a huge issue either, largely because I wasn't particularly prone to loneliness. Unlike modern society, in the martial arts world, even if one intended to live alone, one often had to interact with the community to survive, so there wasn't much time to feel lonely. Homesickness? Occasionally, I thought of my hometown, but only sometimes. It never really shook me deeply. Then what was the hardest part? Boredom. Distancing myself from the martial arts left my life dull and monotonous. Seriously, there was nothing to do. A forced detox from the dopamine frenzy of smartphones and games left me stir-crazy. There was nothing left—no games, YouTube, social media, movies, not even adult content. Only after they vanished did I realize how much they meant. Not even books. No news. Not much beyond watching clouds pass by. An FM temple stay might give a similar feeling. Ever wonder what you’d do if you were thrown into the Joseon Dynasty? I know the answer. What could you do? Sit and count ants. Maybe eat one if you're hungry. The Beggar Sect wasn’t merely living off charity; they survived on information. In this monotonous world, their information was in high demand. Beggar Sect members exchanged interesting tales heard in the streets with innkeepers for meals. The innkeepers, in turn, shared these stories with patrons who bought expensive drinks, and those patrons bragged and shared the stories over drinks with their friends. This was entertainment in this era, making figures like Cheongwol subjects of rumor. Why am I explaining this? To me, who generally knew about the future, the Beggar Sect’s information wasn't very amusing. In the face of boredom, my choice was... Unexpectedly, SM. I had a bit of a fascination, and as I learned leathercraft, the two became intertwined. Behind the shop counter, in a small space barely two pyeong, and after washing at the nearby stream and changing into clothes I provided, Cheongwol walked in. Earlier, there was a moment akin to 'The Fairy and the Woodcutter,' yet a horror edition. As stunning as she was, I had no desire to peek. Getting caught would cost me my eyes. "...Rest here," I said to Cheongwol, her hair still damp. "Thank you." "...I'll be heading downstairs." After guiding her to my bedding, I opened the basement door just three steps away on the floor. Cheongwol knew I was hiding something, as did I, aware of my awkwardness. After an intense, suffocating battle of nerves, I swallowed hard and descended into the basement, careful to keep its contents hidden. -Thunk. I closed the basement door behind me and went down the stairs. "...Ha." The flickering candlelight revealed a room with tools for making leather goods, among other things... Leather cuffs. Collars. Restraint frames. Whips. Gags. Cat ear headbands. A wooden mannequin dangling from the ceiling, strung in an elaborate tortoise shell binding. Anyone would mistake it for a torture chamber. In the darkness, it seemed even gloomier. "...This is maddening." I slumped into place with a sigh. I hadn’t realized when I made them out of boredom, but now it felt excruciatingly embarrassing. Regardless of shame, if anyone discovered this space, I'd be labeled a heretic and executed. Especially if Cheongwol found out. ‘...Why is this wooden mannequin tied up?’ ‘Oh, that's a pig.’ ‘...It looks human.’ ‘Nonetheless, we call it a pig.’ ...I'd be doomed. Absolutely doomed. Despite aligning with a demonic clan, Cheongwol never lost her dignity and femininity. The Emei Sect's virtuous atmosphere was embedded deep within her. Someone like her could never comprehend this, could she? Even modern people react with aversion to SM, imagining it as violent and perverse. Could a martial artist comprehend it? In truth, once you get past the initial barrier, SM isn't as strange as it might seem. It wasn't about donning bizarre winged masks and whipping while laughing maniacally. Just as people come in various forms, so do the nuances and levels of SM. Even mild SM tendencies are more common than one might think. Some people want to be choked during intimacy or like to do the choking themselves. There are those who want to have their hair pulled or to pull someone else's. Some wish to leave bite marks on their partner, while others get excited seeing bite marks left on their own skin. Others take pleasure in spanking or being spanked. Some people thrill at the idea of claiming someone with "You're mine," while others feel a flutter answering in kind, "I am yours," and submitting. Some harbor the lowly desire for their partner to rely solely on them or wish to depend solely on their partner. The desire to be called Master or to call someone else Master exists too. There are even those who want to liberate themselves from all imposed pressures and expectations, finding relief in simply following their master's words. All these elements are part of BDSM at some level. It’s about enjoying stronger, stickier emotional ties. My inclinations fell somewhere in this realm too. While I might have some sadistic tendencies, it’s not like I take pleasure in seeing someone turned into a bleeding mess. It's more like wanting to see a woman softly slapped and tearing up in response? Or witnessing a woman with deep trust in me ready to follow my words despite the embarrassment? Had this world not been crushingly monotonous, I wouldn't have indulged it to this extent. I probably would have left everything at the stage of fantasy. But here and now, with no visual or auditory stimuli, conjuring even one raunchy thought is challenging. Ultimately, to breathe life into my imaginings, I had to construct each piece thereof in reality. You can only entertain fantasies so many times before being hit with reality and giving up. I learned that the hard way during military service. I merely started crafting these things piece by piece to stave off boredom, without any nefarious intent...! It wasn't about chuckling sinisterly and indulging; it was more akin to doodling some adult comics... "...Ha." I scratched my head, trying to gather my thoughts. ...Nonetheless, I shouldn't be too afraid. It should be okay for now. At least I need to get through today safely. ...I need to find a place to hide this stuff temporarily— -Tap. Tap. Tap. Someone was knocking on the basement door above me. 'Head.' It was Cheongwol. "Y-Yes!" Panicking, I dashed to the basement door, grabbing the knob tightly. Beyond the door, she spoke calmly. "Could we talk for a moment?" "Ah, today has been so exhausting, I just want to rest! I hope you’ll understand!" "..." Silence returned. It was as if her footsteps and breathing had disappeared altogether. I pressed a hand to my forehead, exhaling deeply. "...Ha..." ...This is driving me insane. Can I really make it through today without issue— -Clang!! Suddenly, the basement door burst open. The doorknob I had been holding slipped from my grasp. "Uh... Uh..." I froze, unable to process the sudden turn of events. Cheongwol stood there, staring down at me with cold eyes. A chill swept in. My heart tightened, an oppressive feeling. "Y-Young lady... why so suddenly..." Why. What is this suddenness? Why is this happening? In her eyes lay suspicion, and my position, blocking the way on the basement stairs, only deepened her doubt. "...I suddenly felt uneasy." After a long pause, she whispered. It was only then I recalled her future moniker: Cheongwol, the Pursuer of Life. A ghost chasing lives, never letting go once she bites down. ...In hindsight, of course, she couldn't overlook feeling uneasy. "...What are you hiding so tightly, and why are you so afraid of me?" Her lips dried, I forced out some words. "W-Witnessing people die like that... it's just the first time for me...!" But she gave no sign of understanding my perfectly reasonable explanation. "...No. There's something strange. The peculiar twist, as if I were a demonic master to you... it bothers me." Her intuition is scarily sharp...! "...The basement is suspicious too. Do you have connections with the Hao Clan?" "What?" Her suspicions pierced me without hesitation. "Or, perhaps, colluding in some way with those bandits? No, I must check... It's the only way I can trust the head who’s privy to my secret." "W-What are you doing...!" Cheongwol didn't wait any longer and tried to move past me. I clung to her leg. "Hold on...! Wait...!" But how could I, of all people, stop a martial artist, especially Cheongwol? I clung to her hem, thudding down the stairs, being dragged into the basement.