Chapter 31 Bondage (8) - Martial Arts Masochist

"Don’t...end it like this, Jean Joo." Don't end it? “...” At first glance, it sounded agreeable, but perhaps having just been startled back to my senses was the cause. I sensed an instinctual feeling of foreboding. Her words were like bait I shouldn't swallow. I looked at Cheongwol. Her body languished powerlessly, her voice tinged with despair; everything about the tremor in her tone and the overall atmosphere unsettled me. From the outset, she was in no condition to continue this act. The continual strain had brought her stamina to its limit. And for a beginner, lingering on such bondage would yield no good outcome. Her legs were visibly trembling even now. “...Are you saying we should continue?” Cheongwol hesitated briefly, then nodded feebly. Suddenly, our roles had reversed. Previously, she refused me, and I was inclined to press on. Now she wished to continue, yet I found myself resisting. “You said you didn’t want to earlier.” I asked cautiously. Again, Cheongwol paused, then whispered. “...I still...don’t want to.” I couldn't understand. “Then why ask to continue?” “...” “You don’t have the stamina to go on.” “...My heart still feels heavy.” “...What?” She whispered weakly. “...If we end it like this... I’ll have to return to the Emei Sect, still burdened.” “...” Her voice held a thread of resignation, perhaps having finally decided to lay herself bare and reveal her true feelings. Maybe her stamina had run too low to maintain a facade. Regardless, complaints spilled forth that she normally wouldn't voice. “Again, I’ll have to pretend between those hateful seniors, wear a mask...” Cheongwol leaned more heavily against my shoulder. “I’ll have to meet the expectations of the leader and my master, I'll have to fight again...” Finally, enclosing herself in my embrace, she murmured into my clothes. “...And you, Jean Joo, will ignore me.” Her candid words shook me, more deeply than ever before. As human as anyone, these words stirred something within me. “...I don’t want to end it.” Because of that, I more firmly moved my hand to her blindfold. Cheongwol resisted for a moment, but a bound person's resistance wasn’t aggressive. “Don’t... take it off. Ngh!” She finally lifted her forehead from my shoulder. -Swssh. The blindfold was removed. Revealed beneath was Cheongwol’s face, damp with tears. “...Don’t look.” She turned her head, trying to hide it. Even though she had shown much of her vulnerable side, displaying even a hint of tears seemed unbearably shameful. -Tightly... My grip tightened. At that moment, even I didn’t know. The indomitable Cheongwol was no longer visible. All I saw was a woman standing on a path that seemed too difficult. ...A woman I wanted to comfort, even just a little. A person who had to constantly meet expectations and proven herself endlessly. In that moment, even if it was unwarranted, I found myself worrying that her despair had led her to become indomitable. Reflecting on these complicated feelings, I prepared to free her from the rope next. Moving around to her back, I carefully untied the knots. “Haa...” As the cords loosened, her breath returned. All the shameful postures unravelled. When every rope was undone, she slumped weakly to the ground. She whispered, “I said I...didn't want this. I’m still not—” Hesitant, I blurted out, “—Don’t do the fight.” “...What?” “You asked to continue earlier, didn’t you? Here’s my next command. Don’t fight.” The fight would lead to no good. She would explode, and I'd be caught in the crossfire. Of all people, none wished for this fight to happen less than me. ... Yet here I was, entangling myself further despite my intent to keep distance from martial artists. Stopping the fight could evolve into an incident bigger than just an involvement with Cheongwol. ...I was at a loss. I’d always been a bit of a fool, hence this mess right now. Regardless, seeing her struggle made it difficult for someone like me, who knew the future, to refrain from meddling. **** Her untied body ached as if it had become a single entity. The sensation, though painful, carried a strangely comforting warmth. Slowly, a gentle warmth seeped into her once blood-starved body. It was like bringing cold hands near a fire—painful and tingling, yet oddly soothing. In similar effect, Han Seo Jin's voice resonated. “You asked to continue, right? Here’s the next command: Don’t fight.” Cheongwol's wound-up emotions swayed violently at his words. Her forced, concealed mask fell away, and hidden tears squeezed through the cracks. ...Words she longed to hear. She had desperately hoped someone would say that. But truly believing someone in the Central Plains would voice such words... seemed impossible. She didn’t expect it. After all, a fight was regarded as the most pure and noble contest in the martial realm. An entertainment, a test, an art—a testament to the martial artist’s being. Refusing such a duel was tantamount to admitting one’s inadequacy as a martial artist. Whether in skill or spirit. Hence, no one dared refuse a duel, and even if one did, they would be mocked. Knowing full well the weight of those gazes, Cheongwol couldn’t avoid the fight. Yet here Han Seo Jin was, clearly saying it. Don’t fight. “Is that... even plausible?” “...Why?” “How could I not...? Everyone expects it...!” Her voice quivered as she clung, like a child. It was an attempt to justify her decision, though she hoped he would say the opposite. In no time, Han Seo Jin knelt on one knee before the sitting Cheongwol. “I’m not expecting anything. You’ll lose, for sure.” Her emotions, once restrained, surged forth again. Her previously subdued voice swelled with intensity. “How could you possibly know...!” "Your opponent is Dokbong, a martial artist with the title of 'Bong' from the Yongbong Assembly. How does someone like you, who just barely crossed into adulthood, expect to defeat someone with such a well-rounded martial prowess?" It was an obvious statement, yet it was the first time someone had openly voiced it to her. Cheongwol didn't say it out loud, but silently, she answered to herself. Yeah. How could I possibly win...? Han Seo Jin added, "Moreover... isn’t it problematic that someone as wretched as you now could defeat Dokbong?" “...” “Are you really that extraordinary?” His words were cold and harsh, yet the blunt honesty was refreshing. Yeah. How extraordinary could I possibly be? Yet she didn’t back down, instead gritting her teeth to find another reason. She recited what Muwolsatae had said, curious to see how Han Seo Jin would counter it. “The villagers... they wish to see it too...” "You’re not a courtesan, yet are you a clown catering to others?" “It’s not like that...! We owe our livelihood to the villagers’ support... As gratitude, we...” “If they’d withdraw support just because of skipping a duel, let them go quickly. Having such people around is just uncomfortable.” Each word he spoke rippled through her like large waves. Even so, Cheongwol continued to counter. “But... if the support stops, the seniors will struggle...” “-What are your seniors doing? Tell them to put in the effort and secure the support themselves. Are they unable to do anything without you?” “...” “And didn’t you just say you hate returning to your seniors?” Cornered, Cheongwol changed the subject. “The people of Sichuan Tangmen are all—” “-Why do you keep caring about others' opinions?” Finally, Han Seo Jin asked, annoyance coloring his voice. “...What?” “Care about my opinion instead. You're the one who asked to extend the game.” “...But—” “-Are you going to keep arguing?” “...” “Until now, you followed my commands without needing a reason.” “...” “Don’t do it.” A single phrase stripped of any cause or obligation. Devoid of reason, it was lighter but more significant in its impact. Among hundreds of reasons not to fight, it was the most nonsensical yet also the most comforting. “Don’t, Cheongwol.” If it's a command, she doesn’t have to participate in the duel. Don’t think about it. Just obey the command. Cheongwol let out a hollow laugh. Simultaneously, a tremor ran through her body, and a tear slipped from the corner of her eye. Following that first tear, many others followed, as if emotions that had welled deep within her heart had finally broken free. It had been so long since she last cried—since adolescence in fact. ...And for the second time, only in Han Seo Jin’s basement. “...Ngh...” She tried not to cry, but she couldn't hold it back. Because he, Han Seo Jin... It was as if he looked directly into her heart and spoke exactly what she needed to hear. From hundreds of others, only this person said what no one else would. “...Hic...sniff...” Cheongwol suppressed her sobs, looking at him with trembling eyes. A leather craftsman born from nothing. ...Could she have ever imagined receiving such powerful feelings from observing a single person? A gentle shock coursed through her—a sensation she hadn’t felt since Jang Mun In saved her at ten years old. No, perhaps it was an even greater shock. Was it because blood circulated, warming her entire body? Or was it due to exhaustion and tears messing with her breath? Her mind floated adrift, and her vision occasionally wavered. It was a dreamlike state. Was that why? Cheongwol harbored a strange desire for a moment. That he might embrace her and catch these falling tears. Cheongwol always aspired to be a heroic woman. To be an independent heroine like Jang Mun In, soaring without relying on others. She wanted to be strong, self-assured, and not disregarded by anyone. Yet now, she found herself longing... ...to be held by Han Seo Jin as she wept. Trying alone was challenging. She wished he would support her. She hoped he would pull her head close, offer his shoulder, and gently stroke the back of her head. She hoped he would comfort her until she stopped crying. Just as he always praised her whenever she showed any signs of embarrassment. Now, having revealed her tears, she hoped he would console her. To hide that desire, Cheongwol asked amidst her sobs, "Why... do you want me... not to fight...?" He already explained why she shouldn’t fight. But why did he want it so much? Why do you desire it? Why are you the first to stop me? “...” Han Seo Jin deliberated, as if choosing his words carefully, then closed his eyes tightly and whispered, almost confessing, “...Because you’re struggling.” Cheongwol lowered her head further. She couldn't bear his gaze any longer. -Drip... But as her tears hit the floor, it continuously informed him of her crying. Looking back, Han Seo Jin had always tested her. Intimidating, humiliating, criticizing, and pressuring her... Yet never crossing the line when she was truly about to break. Conversely, through praise and persuasion, he always helped her move forward. To a level even she was unaware of, he somehow discerned her limits unnervingly well. Even now, he didn’t want to continue the game. Because her stamina had reached its end. Was it the same now? Could he see her limit clearly, urging against the duel for that reason? The very thought made the tears impossible to stop. She had believed no one truly cared for her... yet there was someone. Someone thoughtful enough to reside quietly at the village’s edge. The relief from realizing she wasn't alone on a deserted island, that someone was beside her—could he understand that comfort? “...Wipe your tears. I’ll head up. Change your clothes.” Han Seo Jin offered her a piece of cloth and then stepped aside. He didn't fulfill her wish to have her head petted. With longing still lingering, he departed. Yet Cheongwol understood that it couldn't be helped. It was only a game, and they hadn't reached the level of intimacy required for such serious matters. Still, it was fine. Cheongwol could tell that even this was part of his consideration for her. After Han Seo Jin left, she clutched the piece of cloth he had given her tightly. -Thump... Thump... Thump... Instead of using it to wipe her tears, she pressed the insignificant piece of cloth he had offered against her pounding heart. Warmth continued to spread from it.