Chapter 3 The Thousand-Year Flower of the Emei Sect (3)** - Martial Arts Masochist

**The Thousand-Year Blossom of the Emei Sect (3)** About fifteen minutes before Han Seo Jin entered his basement. Cheong Wol submerged herself in the cold water of a mountain stream, cleansing her body, clothes, hands, and the guilt that clung to her. The clear currents ran red. As the heat of battle dissipated, the anguished faces of the bandits and their dying gazes flooded her memory, swirling around her like vivid illusions. "..." Taking a deep breath, Cheong Wol gazed at her reflection in the water's surface. Her clothes were stained with blood, her face emotionless, and her eyes trembled. She hadn’t intended to kill them all so ruthlessly. But the bandits’ provocations and harassment... coupled with her pent-up frustrations... led to this outcome. Of course, the fact that they deserved to die hadn’t changed. They were the ones who mercilessly exploited the lives ordinary people built with sweat. If it wasn’t right to eliminate such scum, then what was? As the saying from the Shaolin rang clear... If not me, then who? If not now, then when? Yet, when she once again beheld her wavering reflection in the water, an inexplicable fear surged through her heart. It stemmed from suppressing excuses and becoming more honest with herself... "..." ...There was relief. The feeling of shaking off the strict rules of the Emei Sect and acting as she desired. The satisfaction of ruthlessly crushing those who had insulted her. The sensation of freedom. The strange pleasure of indulging in what shouldn’t be allowed. ...Is this the path of the demon? "..." ...This relief brought fear. The sect’s teachings to avoid killing still resonated deep within her bones. Then why was she twisting in this way? The head of the sect would surely be disappointed if they saw this side of her. The relief that allowed her to breathe freely was overshadowed by the fear of being discovered, making her hands tremble. ...If only someone could tell her this act was justified, her mind might be at peace. 'Those bandits deserved to die...! Of course! It was so satisfying to see the young lady decisively end them!’ The image of a man desperately shouting empty words in fear came to her mind. The leader of the Leather Workshop. Han Seo Jin. "..." ...It was strange. No matter how she thought about it, his reaction was odd. She wasn’t referring to the act of hiding the basement. Everyone has something they wish to conceal, after all. What Cheong Wol found peculiar was Han Seo Jin’s attitude towards it all. As if he already knew she would act this way. As if he anticipated her darkness. Cheong Wol was aware of the persona she projected in the central plains. Despite being only a second-generation disciple, she had already become a promising talent in the martial world. Her courtesy, shaped by the teachings of the Emei Sect, and her righteous demeanor earned her popularity. ...Moreover, she was aware that her looks were considered striking by others. The Thousand-Year Blossom of the Emei Sect. That was what she was called. Yet, despite secretly tearing bandits apart brutally, his demeanor was... What was that attitude? It wasn’t the behavior of someone facing a noble disciple, but rather that of someone dealing with a sinister master. He hadn’t been excessively surprised, nor did he fear her excessively. ...Recalling the mangled corpses, his reaction wasn’t entirely incomprehensible, but... Cheong Wol’s instincts whispered otherwise. There was something more. Suddenly, a thought crossed her mind, making her breath become irregular. ...What if Han Seo Jin was part of the Hao family? If this information spread throughout the central plains? "...Haa." The image of the sect leader’s face twisting with disappointment as soon as they learned of her actions came to mind vividly. That could not happen. How much effort had she put into making the sect leader who took her in proud? Eating the same wild greens and rice every day, waking up before the rooster to train. Suppressing her instincts and upholding manners. Desiring to be a modest and graceful woman. After reaching the age of twenty, these standards became even stricter. Even when approached by annoying commoners or a child spilled water on her clothes by mistake, she had to smile. Whipping herself to meet the expectations the Emei Sect had for her. All of this couldn’t be thrown away. Cheong Wol’s eyes grew heavy with weight. ...Yes, since the reins have already been let go. ...Whether to let go again or not at this point isn’t going to change anything. Resolving this unease takes precedence. What exactly was Han Seo Jin hiding? ...It seemed worth finding out. **** Inside the basement, Cheong Wol smiled coldly. "Ha." -Thud. She shook her leg, dislodging me who was clinging to it. Her gestures had already grown rough. The dim candlelight sporadically illuminated her and the various terrifying tools hanging ominously. I sat helplessly on the floor, unable to respond. Cold sweat soaked my back. Beyond fear, could she understand just how ashamed I felt? Is this what being caught indulging in private shame in front of family would feel like? My sexual preferences exposed undeniably. "My... my lady, I mean..." Cheong Wol tapped a wooden mannequin, suspended from the ceiling with tortoise-shell binding. Then she touched the wall-mounted whips and several ropes. She passed by the cat-ear headband with a peculiar look and took down a leather cuff from the wall, holding it up. After spinning the cuff around her finger, she finally looked at me. "...Is this a torture chamber?" Her voice was calm, but the murderous intent contained within was unmistakably clear. "Indeed. I couldn't pinpoint it, but something was strange about how you treated me. What's your identity? An exorcist church?" She spent considerable time inspecting my tools as if contemplating something before shaking her head lightly, resting her hand on her sword’s hilt. The elegant expression she wore slowly darkened. What was needed to transform from a beautiful woman into a ruthless killer was just the change in the angle of her brows. And the corners of her lips held a peculiar sense of relief, as if thankful she could finally kill me. "...It's not important. In fact, it's better this way. Having no one to know my secret—" The moment Cheong Wol’s hand touched the sword, time seemed to slow as if witnessing my life passing before my eyes. My mind raced to devise a strategy for survival. Truly, I would die at this rate. However, my mind was blank, and my mouth reacted before my head. "It's a misunderstanding!!" I shouted loudly. Startled by the volume, Cheong Wol froze for a moment. With trembling legs, I forced myself to stand. "...Misunderstanding?" I blurted out whatever came to mind. "Isn't it too much to judge a person based on their hobbies like this?!" "...Hobbies?" "I merely offered my humble quarters to you, my lady, since you seemed troubled! I endured both fear and discomfort, and yet you invade my personal space without permission and accuse me! Is this the teaching of the Emei Sect? Is this how a martial artist should intimidate a person?!" Cheong Wol listened to my tirade for a moment, gripping her sword more tightly. "...You're eloquent. But do you think an ordinary person would hide a torture chamber underground?" "Who called this place a torture chamber?! It was you, my lady, who presumed, judged, and accused without grounds." Cheong Wol gestured to the various items behind her. I shouted back. "The, the whips are designed to cause no more harm than a mild sting! The leather cuffs aren't made to be particularly sturdy either! The ropes have soft finishes to prevent skin abrasion! How can this room be described as a torture chamber without even a branding iron in sight?!" I hurriedly dashed to the wall, grabbing a cat-ear headband and shaking it. "How can anyone be tortured with... with such embellishments?!" "...Ha." Cheong Wol let out a chuckle, as if telling me to keep talking. "Then explain with your own words. What exactly is this room with a likeness to a torture chamber used for?" I must survive. I must survive. What should I say? Calling it a 'sanctuary of desires' would probably leave her confused. If I called it an 'SM room', she’d likely ask, 'What’s that?' A ‘playroom’? It looks way too ominous for that. As the silence dragged on, I could see Cheong Wol’s patience wearing thin. Think quickly. A place intended for releasing stress and desires, but phrased in a martial arts world fashion? "It... It's a sanctuary for dispelling inner demons!" "..." "..." Silence settled in the wake of my words. Ah. After the words left my mouth, a wave of embarrassment crashed over me, comparable to the fear of death. ...Though, I didn’t exactly lie... Modern people use such things to relieve stress, after all. "...Inner demons?" Cheong Wol's eyes narrowed. "You're experiencing inner demons, aren’t you, my lady." There was no longer any reason to hide it. To survive, I had to use every bit of knowledge I possessed. Cheong Wol’s eyelids flickered at the mention. Surely she was aware that she had shown a side of herself during the violence... But connecting that with her inner demons was a different matter. Even a righteous martial artist or a monk might at times be consumed by anger and act on it. But I aimed directly at what I sensed within her—her inner demons. "You said my reaction seemed strange? Of course, it would be! I have already discerned the presence of your inner demons...! If you may not be the person I once thought you to be, how could I not be wary of you...!" "...How did you..." "Why does it matter how I recognized the demon within you? What matters is that I'm not lying! Tell me, aren't you suffering from inner demons?" "..." Cheong Wol blinked, momentarily lost for words. Then, with a frown, she spoke again. "...And so? What on earth does this torture chamber have to do with dispelling inner demons? You wouldn’t be suggesting relief through torture and punishment, are you?" "I told you, it’s not torture! It's psychological treatment based on mutual consent...!" "Do you take me for a fool? How could anyone find healing by wearing those shackles and being struck by those whips? What sort of insane people willingly choose to bleed and suffer for comfort?" The tip of Cheong Wol’s sword began to slide from its scabbard. "Enough. I’m done with this talk. It’s time—" I waved my hands frantically. "Wait, wait, my lady! Please listen to my explanation! Not everyone perceives pain as painful!" I scrambled for an example. "For instance, don't some enjoy drinking bitter tea? Because they savor the refreshing feeling beyond the bitterness!" Cautiously watching Cheong Wol’s reaction, I continued. "And, from vigorous exercise, although the process is undoubtedly painful—shortness of breath, muscles tearing, body crying out—the relief at the end of it all... isn't it more profound and weighty than any other comfort?" "..." Once again, Cheong Wol was silent. She looked as if she was scrutinizing whether I was spouting nonsense but allowed me to continue. I pressed forward. If I stopped, I would surely die. "The emotions we feel, pleasure and displeasure, are far more subjective than we often realize, and sometimes even mixed. Some might become angry from the same stimulus, while others might find peace. These shackles and ropes are similar in context!" Cheong Wol questioned. "...So there are those who enjoy wearing shackles and being bound by ropes, essentially surrendering their freedom? Is that what you’re saying?" "Yes!" There are masochists in the world, after all. ...Whether they exist in the martial arts world, I don’t really know. "...Even if there’s a refreshing note beyond bitter tea and relief following intense exercise, how could anyone prefer the loss of physical freedom? What drives them to choose such a path?" Cheong Wol, seeming incapable of handing over her autonomy, appeared genuinely perplexed. ...But honestly, I don't fully understand it myself! How should I know why masochists are the way they are...?! But I couldn’t say that. My life depended on how gloriously I could paint this deviant behavior. Suddenly, a plausible excuse sprang to mind. "By limiting their physical freedom, they instead experience psychological liberation!" "What?" I had never felt my mind work so swiftly before. "Without even realizing it, people tie themselves with ropes of their own making—the expectations of society, responsibility, or even status can at times bind a person... ...as rain falling from a clear sky slowly soaks clothing, over time, this restriction becomes immense pressure. Surely, as the promising disciple of the righteous sect, you can understand to some extent?” "..." “To escape such pressures, one temporarily relinquishes control to someone else... for a breath of fresh air!" "And what relation does surrendering physical control have to escaping societal pressures?" "By being subjected to control, one realizes how insignificant and helpless they truly are! It allows them to lay down the burden of always doing the right thing! At that moment, isn't one finally free of the world's expectations?" It's often said that many masochists hold high social status. Those who must always control everything, yearning to be controlled themselves, handing themselves over. Though, of course, not everyone fits this mold. If that were true, every high-ranking individual would be a masochist, right? "..." Finally, Cheong Wol seemed to start grasping my argument, at least to some degree. Her expression subtly twisted, which happened to be the most dramatic reaction I had seen from her today. Seizing the opportunity, I continued. "Don’t Taoists also emphasize it? The harmony of yin and yang! Just as darkness exists because of light, though physically uncomfortable, it brings psychological ease... something like that!" "..." I could no longer read Cheong Wol's expression. But I was sure that my words were stirring something within her. I kept pressing my point. "I have done nothing wrong...! I speak the truth, my lady!" Though I spoke with confidence, inside, I was apologizing to Buddha, writing my last will to the elders of the Beggar Sect, and cursing myself for seeking mushrooms. The cat-ear headband still in my hand felt utterly pathetic. "If I am guilty, it’s just trying to live earnestly! And why would I, of my own volition, carry out people’s torture right under the nose of the Emei Sect? A single scream, and the neighbors next door would know everything!" Ah, should I scream instead? “Cheong Wol’s capturing people.” ...I couldn’t do that. Dead, I wouldn’t be able to explain myself, and the neighbors would see my basement and point fingers, calling me a heretic. "..." A faint relaxation seemed to flow through Cheong Wol's body. Even that small change looked like a ray of hope to me. My mouth was dry, my back soaked with cold sweat, and my heart pounded like a heavy stone with each breath. Internally, I must have pleaded three times. Please believe me. Please spare me. And then— "...Show me." "...Pardon?" An unexpected instruction slipped from her lips. Cheong Wol withdrew her hand from her sword, straightening her posture even further. "...Experience will make it clear. Whether it’s truly effective in dispelling inner demons." "...Oh..." "...So, show me." Cheong Wol took a step forward. "S-Show you what..." My mouth was so dry my tongue twisted on its own, and my mind was utterly blank. "Everything you've been talking about." She spoke with utter calm. "With whom..." I asked, grasping for one last hope. "Who else is here besides you and me?" "..." ...So, she wanted to try an SM play? ...With the Thousand-Year Blossom of the Emei Sect? "I-I can’t do it!" At my answer, Cheong Wol's face twisted into an expression of raw anger. "This bastard toys with me till the end—" "I told you! This process requires the partner to fully entrust themselves! I understand that as a disciple of the Emei Sect, you must maintain purity! How could I possibly...?" "...What has that to do with purity? You said it was about inflicting physical pain—" In our haste, we kept interrupting each other. "To be specific, it’s about surrendering everything to the other. Could you abide by humiliating commands?" "...? What do you mean by—" "For example, be required to urinate outdoors..." "...!" Even in the dim, I could clearly see Cheong Wol’s face flush crimson. At just the mention, not only her face but her earlobes and neckline flared up like wildfire. -Slap! Before I knew it, Cheong Wol had already slapped my cheek. Despite her crazed demeanor, her response was surprisingly feminine. "You crazy...!" She cursed harshly. In my own grievance, I shouted back. "I told you!! That’s why I can’t do it!!" "...You... filthy...!" Was it anger, embarrassment, or an eruption of emotions all at once that her body couldn’t hold back? Her hands were clenched into fists, and her shoulders trembled, while her eyes darted unfocused. "...Vulgar...!!" She stammered over words, seemed utterly lost for a lengthy moment, then suddenly fled. Even before I could call out, she stormed into the basement door and vanished. -Bang! The gaze that had just threatened to kill me, the cold precision, were all gone in an instant. "...?" ...Cheong Wol fled? The abrupt departure left me dumbfounded and unable to react. It was neither expected nor understandable. But the hurried footsteps echoed long in my ears. After she departed, I sat in the basement for quite some time. It was incredibly difficult to comprehend the situation. "...Am I still alive?"