Chapter 32 Duel of the Phoenix (1) - Martial Arts Masochist

The Duel of the Phoenix (1) Cheongwol changed her clothes and calmed her emotions before she stood for a moment in the basement. As she took off the lowly outfit she detested so much and donned her elegant martial attire once more, she felt a fleeting sense of regret, which she promptly denied. The outfit still looked vulgar to her—she couldn't understand how she had worn it. The thought that Han Seojin might have studied her in that attire made her flush with heat. Yet, at the same time, the strange thrill of sharing a secret with him made her heart race. She shook her head again. Play was just play — she had to return to reality. Once she went back up, Han Seojin would likely revert to using formal speech with her. Cheongwol climbed the basement stairs. As she quietly stepped outside, a faint aroma of food wafted in the air. The music from the Tang family’s festivities continued to blare loudly outside. The sound of boisterous laughter from people drifted to her, carried subtly by the wind. The world she’d momentarily forgotten returned to her once more. Han Seojin was heating something in the kitchen nook when she saw him. As Cheongwol watched awkwardly for a moment, he glanced at her and spoke quietly, “I...haven’t eaten yet…” Thinking back, she realized it was already late into the night since she had come over in the early evening — a time before dinner. Far away, the grand party hosted by the Tang family was ablaze with celebration. Cheongwol, hearing the noise from outside, turned her gaze back to Han Seojin. Amidst people celebrating so joyously, she saw him alone and sensed a hint of loneliness about him. In that moment, seeing him was like seeing herself, and she asked, "So why didn’t you go to the party?” Earlier that evening, Han Seojin hadn't seemed inclined to attend. “Well, it didn’t seem like it would be fun,” he replied. Cheongwol frowned, instinctively sensing that he wasn’t telling the truth. Han Seojin confessed as if resigning to her perceptiveness, “…There are too many martial artists. I don’t like that.” “...” The comment left a lingering impression on her. For the first time, Cheongwol grew curious about why he disliked martial artists so much. "How did you come to dislike them so much?” “I told you, didn’t I? Around martial artists, people like me feel insignificant. Who wants to keep a tiger next to them?” Without realizing it, Cheongwol softly murmured, “What about me?” “Pardon?” “...Never mind.” Then silence hung long and awkward between them. Cheongwol too sensed the mood. Though there were no words exchanged, they both seemed to be searching for something to say, their gazes meeting and parting repeatedly. “Uh…” Han Seojin finally broke the silence, “...Aren’t you going?” Cheongwol knew as well. There was no reason for her to be here any longer. Yet, she couldn’t bring herself to leave this humble, cramped, and dirty little room. She knew that returning to rest in the sanctuary of the Emei Sect was the best thing. Her body was already exhausted and languid. Her mind was filled...no, maybe slightly filled with thoughts of someone, yet she didn’t feel uncomfortable at all. It was a perfect state for a profound sleep. “...” Still, she couldn’t take that step to leave. Her body flinched and turned, only to spin halfway back. Leaving here meant another ten days. Ten days where they had to act as if they were ghosts to each other again. Initially, she had accepted that duration thinking it would be nothing but… thinking it over now, perhaps it seemed a bit too long. She felt slightly discontent. But what Han Seojin made of her hesitance, he interpreted as something else and, pulling over a shabby chair, made her an offer. Cheongwol hadn’t intended for this, but she sat down quietly in the proffered chair. Han Seojin spoke, “If you’re hungry, maybe have a little…” He then brought the warmed food to the table. Han Seojin gingerly sat opposite her as well. Steamed dumplings were laid out. With an awkward smile, he said, “You’ve...used up a lot of energy, right? You should fill up a bit. By the time you get back to the Emei Sect, meal time...or rather, the prayer hour would be over.” Steam rose enticingly from the dumplings. As Han Seojin noted, Cheongwol had missed a meal. However, she didn’t particularly feel the urge to fill her stomach. She couldn’t recall ever really enjoying eating. What was so great about munching on greens? Nevertheless, she inquired absentmindedly, “...What kind of dumplings are these?” “They’re meat dumpli—” “I told you, I don’t eat meat.” Han Seojin hesitated momentarily and quietly asked, “...But didn’t you say meat isn’t prohibited by the Emei Sect… Why do you…” The usage of "Soyeo?"—a title more proper, yet somehow jarring in her ears. Hiding her discomfort, Cheongwol answered, “…Because the headmaster appreciated it more that way.” “You seem to follow your headmaster closely.” “...” She couldn’t respond to that comment. Cheongwol could no longer grasp her own feelings. While she might find them disagreeable and detestable at times… the undeniable truth was, she loved the headmaster dearly as well. Despite no praises were given, or being persuaded to join a duel, it wasn’t her intention to shatter the headmaster’s hopes and disappoint her. Deep within, Cheongwol harbored an attachment that remained impossible to sever. Realizing he may have crossed a line, Han Seojin moved to change the subject, “Uh... I’m just really hungry for now…” Drawing the bamboo steamer with four dumplings towards himself, he intended to begin. -Clack! Cheongwol’s hand instinctively stopped him. Not eating anything here would mean nothing left to do but to get up and leave. If she intended on delaying time even slightly, eating was the appropriate choice. Besides, these were dumplings proposed by Han Seojin. Oddly enough, she felt a desire to acquiesce. What’s more, she was indeed hungry. Her headmaster wasn’t watching her do this. Cheongwol picked up a warm dumpling. She couldn’t imagine what it would taste like. “...Ah.” As Cheongwol prepared to eat, Han Seojin let out a small sound. When she looked at him, he fussed nervously, “Go ahead, eat.” “...” Why was she suddenly feeling this whimsical urge? It's been so long since she last tasted meat that she couldn't even remember its flavor. When living with her parents, meat was so rare that she hardly ever ate it. After joining the Emei Sect, she avoided meat to be more favored. Besides, meat was never part of the meals there to begin with. Cheongwol opened and closed her mouth repeatedly, finding it difficult to abandon her decades-old rule. As she hesitated and looked at Han Seojin, he spoke again, "You don't have to force yourself." His concern made the notion of eating seem trivial to Cheongwol. She took a large bite of the dumpling. "…!" Unknowingly, Cheongwol covered her mouth, her eyes widening more than usual. The taste that hit her with each chew was so striking that she blinked repeatedly. It was much more delicious than she had anticipated, and she then realized just how hungry she truly was. "…Is it good?" Han Seojin asked with a sense of relief, starting to eat a dumpling himself. Cheongwol, focused on the food, quietly replied a bit later, "…It's good." Lowering her head a little, she continued to eat the dumplings. The more she got to know Han Seojin, the more it felt like her world was expanding. He kept guiding her through paths she never dared to tread. Dumplings might be a small thing, but through him, she realized such simple happiness existed in the world. This new understanding stirred something gently yet profoundly within her heart. She had thought that only rage remained in her heart but, turns out, her emotions were more easily swayed than she expected. “Eat more,” Han Seojin encouraged, without judging her for eating meat. Instead, he only seemed to care that she sated her hunger. Cheongwol appreciated his consideration, more than the unexpected gifts she would sometimes find from passersby. Outside, the loud festivity continued unabated. Yet, maybe because it was so discreet or secretive—Cheongwol felt that she'd succumbed. This mundane meal in the cramped kitchen felt far better than the raucous party outside. Chewing quietly... I watched Cheongwol eating the meat dumplings. It wasn’t typical of her to eat, cheeks bulging with food like that. Claiming she wouldn’t eat meat, yet here she was... eating so well... Cheongwol had already devoured two dumplings and glanced at me again. …You little... just take everything, why don’t you. Hesitantly, I told her with a heavy heart, “...You can have more.” I was in a crouched state, remembering my unsolicited prying in the basement. What was I worrying about? Here I was, a man losing his dumplings. When you become too engrossed in role-playing, these unfortunate events happen. While calling it SM might be a stretch, because of our role-playing-like relationship, when Cheongwol showed even a small vulnerability, I couldn’t help wanting to help, despite it being beyond my place. As a result, words flowed out without a filter. Now, I was paying the price for that. Still, what's the saying—one good turn deserves another? At least if Cheongwol collapsed during her duel, she wouldn’t hold it against me. I did warn her, after all, didn't I? But what if she comes back later, blaming me for not persuading her more strongly? Either way, Cheongwol, after some hesitation, took the last of my dumplings. Out of the four dumplings, she devoured three. My stomach grumbled loudly, and all I could do was maintain an awkward smile. ...I should have just gone to the party. **** On the day of the duel. 'Don’t go to the duel.' Han Seojin's voice kept ringing in her head. However, Cheongwol went about her routine preparation. She washed herself and put on her freshly laundered martial attire, tidied her outfit, and fastened her sword at her waist. She pinned her hair with a hairpin and applied light powder to her face, preparing for the numerous spectators who would watch her. As she neared the end of her preparations, her teacher So Woon approached her. "Are you ready, Wol-ah?" "…Yes." A significant event awaited, and Cheongwol took a deep breath in and exhaled it out. Amusingly, since that day, the duel hadn’t loomed as a massive pressure anymore. ‘I’m not expecting anything. You will lose, surely,’ she was going to face the audience, bearing humiliations on a grand scale. Yet, in truth, what she endured with Han Seojin seemed more mortifying. Despite this, she didn’t regret the vulnerable side she showed him—he was the one who called her beautiful. His eyes were the only ones she chose to reveal her silhouette to. That memory would live on, vividly, only in his mind. Even that held a thrilling, secretive sensation. Meanwhile, So Woon, noticing her expression, quietly asked, "…Wol-ah. Are you okay?" "Yes." "If you really don't want to, I can..." "No." A few days ago, she might have accepted So Woon's offer. But not today. Snapping back to reality, she found herself standing on the dueling stage. The thunderous cheers of the crowd were deafening. “Wow!! Cheongwol, you’re beautiful!!” “Let’s see if the daughter of the Tang family truly is a phoenix!!” “Good luck, Tang Solan!!” “Show the power of the Emei Sect, our pride!!” Countless people densely packed around the dueling arena gazed at her and Tang Solan. The Mu Wol Satae, Dang Jeokcheon, her master, and first, second, and third-generation disciples watched, along with the Tang family and residents of the Emei Mountain village. She was well aware that today’s duel would send ripples across the martial world. Perhaps they would all point fingers, seeing her lose so disgracefully. Cheongwol's spirit had long since been broken. It was natural, as she still had much to learn... and without wielding the Annihilation Sword, she wasn’t confident in her victory. Facing her was Tang Solan, the Venomous Phoenix, and offspring of the renowned Sichuan Tang Clan. Despite rumors of having fallen victim to inner demons, she simply didn’t seem the part. If anything, she appeared all the more formidable. And yet, somehow, it was all fine for Cheongwol, who swept her gaze again across the spectators. Tang Solan asked, "...Do you have the luxury to be distracted?" Despite everything, Cheongwol continued to search for someone in the crowd. If she could spot the beggars, maybe he would be with them. Soon enough, she discovered a group of beggars in shabby clothing at the very back corner of the audience. Among them, causing a slight ruckus yet still observing the duel, was Han Seojin. He truly did seem concerned. "...You're even smiling? You don't seem nervous at all. Honestly, I was a bit anxious," Tang Solan remarked. "...Ah," Cheongwol touched her lips. How unusual to find herself smiling in such a bizarre moment. Even she couldn't fathom it. Tang Solan continued, "Well, no surprise, given how many eyes are on us, Wol-ah." Indeed, there were plenty of watchful eyes. At that moment, an echoing voice from memory spoke in her mind. 'Why do you always care about what others think?' Cheongwol took a deep breath. 'Focus on my gaze. It was you who asked to prolong the game, wasn’t it?' ...That is exactly what she would do. Whether it be a game or not, she would choose to listen to the voice of the one person who held her pain over the multitude that only sought to hurt her. It wasn't about belittling the duel. She would give her all, for the person who worried for her. However, because of that slight shift in mindset... "...I'm not nervous anymore." "...What?" ...Watch me. Cheongwol took one last lingering look at Han Seojin before she composed herself. She then respectfully saluted Mu Wol Satae and Dang Jeokcheon. The cheers from the crowd grew louder. Amidst the noise, her voice rang clear as she declared, "I'm ready."