Chapter 43 Journey to Chengdu (1) - Martial Arts Masochist

Journey to Chengdu (1) -Thud!! With nervousness weighing heavily on his heart, Han Seojin hurriedly ascended the stairs following Cheong Wol. Just then, the basement door slammed shut right before him. The resounding noise reverberated through the space. It was as if life itself was sealing its doors on him. If he were to continue his act as an overbearing sadist, he would have to immediately head outside and question Cheong Wol’s behavior... “...Ah...” -Thump. His legs gave way beneath him. He couldn’t follow her. Even if he did, what could he possibly do? Cheong Wol was truly angry this time. Was he supposed to maintain the sadistic act in such a situation? And it wasn't just Cheong Wol who was upset. Tang Soran was furious too. These were two women known for their prowess in quick killings and wielding swords skillfully in the central plains. How was he supposed to confront them? Although he had been adept at concealing his fear in front of Cheong Wol before, at this moment, he genuinely felt defeated. The piercing gaze from earlier lingered in his mind. She had been staring at the wall, and when she decided to leave with Tang Soran, she rose to her feet. She walked up to him, looked him in the eye... It was the same look she had when massacring the bandits of Emei Mountain. Chumyeong-gwi Cheong Wol’s piercing gaze. Distracted by Tang Soran, he had temporarily forgotten that Cheong Wol would eventually become one of the seven heavens of the demonic cult. Many devotees would worship her as a deity, kneeling and weeping before her. She was a monster who rose to such a position solely by virtue of her strength. She was adept at killing people. Had he become complacent, thinking their occasional role-playing could soften her heart? He had neglected the tiger while being preoccupied with the fox. No, truthfully, he hadn’t neglected them. He had simply been too careless towards them. He must have been deluding himself that he had become the genuine sadist just because he was playing the sadist's role. Crazy! I’ve gone mad...! It felt as if everything was crumbling due to a single mistake and misconception. “...Damn...! Damn it all...!” Words he wouldn’t normally utter slipped out effortlessly. In his heart, he wished he could melt away into the basement and vanish. He hadn’t only incurred Tang Soran’s wrath but also felt the precarious thread linking him to Cheong Wol snap. Everything felt messed up beyond measure. “Ah...Ahh...” Sitting on the steps, his body slipped downward. He didn’t resist it. Before he knew it, he found himself lying upside down on the stairs. Since he had fallen into the novel "Blood Road," today felt like a day when he was intensely grappled by a sense of doom. Back when he lived as a beggar. When he chewed grass for lack of food. Even when he got beaten while begging, and when he first met Cheong Wol on the mountain. Nothing compared to this instant. Today was the day he truly angered Cheong Wol and incurred Tang Soran’s wrath. Lying upside down on the stairs, he finally came to a decision he had been procrastinating on. ...I should live somewhere else. He no longer felt safe staying here. Even though he was aware of how the world would unfold and possessed vital information, he didn’t become a martial artist for survival. He endured, chewing on roots, all for survival. Living is beautiful, isn't it? Even if happiness isn't constant, contents himself with tinkering with SM tools in the basement... enjoying a tasty treat sometimes... Those small pleasures were all he wished for. But now, this place had become too dangerous. His carefully maintained everyday life was under threat. Cheong Wol and... even Tang Soran? Both knew precisely where he lived. Wasn't he being a fool for lingering here? It hadn’t struck him until now, even though it was already too late. Thinking he could manage through SM play with Cheong Wol was perhaps too naive. I should flee. A hazy resolution slowly settled in his mind. There were many reasons he built a home and lived at Emei Mountain. Because the uncles who raised him were here. With walking as the only mode of transportation, moving away felt burdensome. He had just clawed out of the beggar state and started acting like a decent human being. He had no money. Emei Mountain was one of the rare zones untouched by the demonic cult's influence. However, all those reasons paled in comparison to today’s incident. This place was no longer habitable. “...Haah...” Of course, fleeing immediately wasn’t plausible. As the uncle beggars would say about stretching one's legs where they intend to lie down, he too had to be cautious. What if the new place turned out worse than here? That's not acceptable. He had to evaluate if he could sustain himself at the new location. Whether he could escape the demonic cult’s clutches. If he could live quietly in hiding. He needed to scrutinize each element carefully. And then, perhaps, fleeing would grant him a fresh start. Even if Cheong Wol or Tang Soran impulsively wanted to eliminate him and somehow made an attempt. Famous people may be sought by Haowen or the Beggars Sect, but commoners like him, who blend in seamlessly, wouldn’t be found. The central plains is vast, and people are numerous. If one desires to vanish, vanishing is entirely possible. Nonetheless, he couldn’t simply relocate immediately. Vanishing overnight would be difficult. He needed to save some money. He had to at least take a glance at the new locale to survive. ...He hoped Tang Soran wouldn’t tell her father about today's incident. ...And wished Cheong Wol wouldn’t reduce him to a pile of flesh out of humiliation from today. “...” ...But then again. Slapping Tang Soran’s foot was somewhat amusing. Though it felt unjust to trade his life for that amusement. **** Emei Mountain is composed of numerous peaks. Of these, the main peak, Titanium Summit (金頂峰), houses the temple of Fuhu Temple (伏虎寺). This is strictly a male prohibited area, serving as the main living space for the Emei Sect's disciples. However, descending a bit from Titanium Summit reveals another quietly standing temple. Situated at the intersection of the mountain path linking Fuhu Temple to the villages on the outskirts of Emei Mountain, it serves as a space for hosting external guests. Wannian Temple (万年寺). This is also a male-prohibited area, although less rigid than Fuhu Temple, and is typically used for receiving important visitors to Emei Mountain. Currently, in one pavilion of Wannian Temple. The leader of the Tang family, the Poison King (毒王) Tang Jeokcheon. And the Emei Sect's Zen Master, Wu Wol Satae (無月師太), renowned for her quiet authority and esteemed reputation in the martial world. Between them, on the small table, a freshly brewed teacup emitted steam. Additionally, the scent of incense brought tranquility, and the sound of birds cleared one's mind. Tang Jeokcheon spoke. "...Whenever I come here, my heart always feels at ease." "I am glad to hear that." "If Wannian Temple is this pleasant, I can only imagine how beautiful Fuhu Temple must be. It's unfortunate I've never had the chance to see it," Tang Jeokcheon expressed his regret subtly, but Mu Wol Satae simply took a sip from her teacup in silence. After a brief pause, when the wind intensified the tranquility and the fragrance deepened, Mu Wol Satae finally spoke. "...Now, please, tell me, clan leader." It had been several days since Tang Jeokcheon arrived at Mount Emei. His quiet and personal journey here surely held a reason beyond mere pleasantries. If it were just a matter of asking after her well-being, a letter would have sufficed. Sending someone on his behalf would have been enough if that wasn’t appropriate. However, the fact that Tang Jeokcheon made this trip himself carried a weight beyond formalities. After a moment of silence, Tang Jeokcheon smiled softly and spoke. "I simply wanted to meet with Satae after such a long time." Despite his jest, Mu Wol Satae only responded with a smile, refraining from continuing the conversation. Finally, Tang Jeokcheon’s expression turned serious. "...Truly, this is a conversation we've touched upon briefly before. Do you remember the sparring? The brief conversation we had then." "We discussed the possibility of a heart demon." He nodded. "...Satae. Perhaps artifacts like us from the old days are crushing new roots." "Pardon...?" "...Are you aware of Mount Wudang's Yeong-cheon?" "If you mean Yeong-cheon... isn't he the Sword of Faith? I've heard he was particularly cherished by the Sword Master..." The title of Sword Master was held by a high-ranking figure from Mount Wudang. Tang Jeokcheon continued. "...There were allegations of him suffering from a heart demon. That boy has gone missing." "...What?" Mu Wol Satae quietly put down her teacup. It was a matter she couldn’t take lightly, as the same concern she held for Cheong Wol paralleled the worry for Yeong-cheon, a promising talent like her. "In truth, saying he’s 'missing' might be a bit misleading. He’s left traces while wandering around. The Sword Master is personally pursuing him. He recently passed through Sichuan, meeting me directly to ask a favor—a request to inform them through a letter if I were to encounter the boy." "..." "At first, I considered it a mere jaunt, thinking it was just a typical wanderlust of his age group. But..." Tang Jeokcheon’s voice dropped. "...Every place Yeong-cheon passes through, blood is spilled." A single word he uttered, "blood road," made Mu Wol Satae’s fingertips tremble slightly. This conversation recalled another rising figure for her. "...This news won’t remain hidden for long. We must hope to find him before the damage escalates further." Before the Sword Master apprehends him, Tang Jeokcheon quietly took out a small toxic herb from his sleeve. Attempting to lighten the mood, he offered it to Mu Wol Satae. "Ah, this is a herb I frequently enjoy... Would Satae like to... Oh, I suppose I'll keep it to myself." He placed a leaf of the herb into his tea and took a sip. "...Upon hearing about Yeong-cheon, I was reminded of Soran." The weight of his words carried deep emotions. In the eyes of the man known as the Poison King, the shadow of a father loomed. "Seeing that sweet child withering away, harboring something in her heart... I feel utterly powerless in my inability to help. I saw myself in the Sword Master's plight. If Soran were to crumble like Yeong-cheon... If she began to harm countless innocents..." Mu Wol Satae briefly averted her gaze. Her eyes carried distant shadows, while an involuntary smile surfaced on her lips. A smile too poignant to be mere laughter, too quiet to be termed weeping. "I sought you for solace, yet it seems all I've brought with me are more concerns," she spoke. Just as Tang Jeokcheon thought of Tang Soran upon hearing of Yeong-cheon, Mu Wol Satae was reminded of Cheong Wol. Tang Jeokcheon bitterly chuckled. "I was just as surprised. When I heard that young lady Cheong Wol was also battling a heart demon." For a moment, the two martial art giants silently faced each other. Despite being renowned figures in the martial world, they found themselves helpless in dealing with the children they cherished. After a long pause, Tang Jeokcheon spoke. "Satae, I am afraid." Even the man known as the Poison King, who incited fear throughout many paths, felt powerless when it came to worrying about his child. "...If there’s anything that can be done for Soran’s heart demon, I would do anything." Gently blowing on his tea, taking a sip, Tang Jeokcheon spoke. "That’s why I pondered gathering those promising talents together." "..." "Wouldn’t it be an opportunity for them to meet, train together, share stories, and reflect on themselves?" Mu Wol Satae nodded. "You’ve come to take Wol." Tang Jeokcheon smiled. "I thought it’d be a good chance to see Soran’s sparring, relay Yeong-cheon’s story, and perhaps also bring young lady Cheong Wol. And, as I mentioned, to meet you, Satae." With Cheong Wol already in her considerations, Mu Wol Satae found her response came easily. "I will ask for Wol’s intent." **** Inside Cheong Wol's heart, a suffocating heaviness continued to accumulate. Even after night gave way to day, her mind remained burdened, failing to find any lightness. The events in the basement kept replaying in her thoughts. Han Seojin was solely focused on Tang Soran, while she only stared at the wall next to them. Why was that moment so infuriating? It was a moment she'd never wish to experience again, even in death. No matter what happens, in the future, the play would be exclusive to the two of them. She vowed never again to suggest sharing the experience with others. Playing with Tang Soran hadn’t alleviated her heart demon at all. Instead of relief, annoyance had only swelled. It was supposed to be a return to the basement after a long wait, yet she only came out with heightened anger. The unfulfilled desires continued to linger within her, tormenting her. She recalled Han Seojin’s sly smile when he punished Tang Soran. Why did that annoy her so much? ...Apart from treating the heart demon, perhaps Han Seojin is just a man with a dirty taste for watching women struggle. ‘...Disgusting.’ Cheong Wol muttered those words internally. For the nuns of the Emei Sect, someone like him was no different from an insect. "…" Yet, Cheong Wol found herself unable to pull her interest away from that filthy pervert. The uneasy way things were left with Han Seojin lingered in her chest. Truthfully, she should have been angrier. He made her stare at the wall while lavishing all his attention on Tang Soran. He cleaned her feet with such care, pampered her, and gave her abundant praise. Her heart boiled with anger. She wanted to see Han Seojin again and painstakingly go over what happened yesterday... but even Cheong Wol felt reluctant to break the promises they shared. Perhaps it was even more so because she physically experienced the consequences of breaking those promises. In fact, Cheong Wol was reflecting as well. She knew better than anyone else that she had done wrong. If she had just listened to Han Seojin’s instructions, there wouldn’t have been issues. His guidance had never been wrong. Nevertheless, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the punishment’s intensity was excessive. Cheong Wol let out a deep sigh. At times, contemplating such issues made her feel foolish and awkward. When she took a step back and tried to think clearly, she wondered what about Han Seojin prompted such thoughts. Sure, she had shown him sides of herself that she hadn’t revealed to others. She had exposed her thighs and even showed her underarms. She stood still in embarrassing attire. She blushed at his compliments, and her body flinched involuntarily. She even shed tears of relief from her stifling heart demon in front of him. ...Even so. He was merely the head of a leather workshop. Just another one among the countless people out there. "…" Cheong Wol was sitting at Hyeonbiam, gazing down at the distant leather workshop. From that perspective, Han Seojin was no more than a dot. She could vaguely see Han Seojin bustling about his day inside, acting as if nothing had happened the day before. His nonchalant demeanor despite their fight, and his extensive attention to Tang Soran, made her feel like hitting him. The very thought irritated her to death. He had cared so much for Tang Soran, and now, despite their clash and parting, he seemed utterly unfazed. Her frustration only grew more intense. "There you are." Just then, someone stepped into Cheong Wol’s space. Startled, she turned to find her master, So Un, standing there. "…Master." "You look displeased. Is something the matter?" "…" Cheong Wol didn’t respond. So Un didn’t push her withdrawn disciple for answers. Instead, she shared the reason for her visit straightforwardly. "Wol, how about visiting Chengdu?" "Chengdu?" So Un nodded. "It's a suggestion from the Tang family patriarch. He wants to gather the promising young talents of the martial world for an exchange. Why don’t you go? It might be a chance to forge new connections." Cheong Wol didn’t respond, lowering her gaze instead. Far below, the leather workshop seemed faint in the distance. She spotted Han Seojin faintly within, organizing something. "…How long would I have to be away?" "Well, that depends on you. But at least twenty days—" "—I’m sorry." Cheong Wol replied abruptly, surprising even herself. The answer came out without any thought or hesitation. She wanted to assert confidently that it wasn’t because of Han Seojin, but within her denial, there lurked an uncomfortable feeling that refused to go away. Being separated from him for twenty days in this state felt like too long, too unsettling. The rift that formed between herself and Han Seojin—leaving it as is while distancing herself—felt somehow precarious. Besides, what could she possibly gain by mingling with other promising individuals? She might just feel the same sort of disdain she experienced from fox-like figures such as Tang Soran. "I... don't think I’d like to." So Un quietly looked into her disciple’s eyes. Soon after, she accepted her student’s wish. "...If that's your decision." **** An opportunity came unexpectedly. "What did you say?" "I'm going to Chengdu for a while." Uncle Gwak Du spoke while sprawled out. Soft sunlight fell across his face, and he lay leisurely with his eyes closed. "The dead body found in Mount Emei, the sparring match between Lady Tang Soran and Lady Cheong Wol... it looks like I need to personally report this to the Sichuan branch." Uncle Gwak Du regularly traveled to Chengdu. Even as a beggar, there were duties expected of him being part of the Beggars' Sect. "...Are you going with the Sichuan Tang family?" "What good would it do to travel with the Tang family? It wouldn’t be a comfortable journey. I was planning to leave tomorrow—" "—I’ll go too!" I seized upon the opportunity and declared. Sichuan, Chengdu. Despite the presence of the Tang family, it was an ideal initial destination. "I’d like to accompany you this time, uncle."