Chapter 693: Life May Be Short, but Eyelashes Must Be Long
Chapter 693: Life May Be Short, but Eyelashes Must Be Long
Cha Yi-ran lifted the lid of the box and peered at the bead resting inside.
The sphere’s surface was flawlessly smooth, emitting a crimson glow that was both translucent and profound. Upon closer inspection, delicate threads resembling human veins webbed through the interior, pulsing with a strange, flickering energy.
It felt so unnervingly alive that Cha Yi-ran felt as if the bead were watching her, rather than the other way around.
Just as she carefully closed the lid, a figure materialized behind her.
The newcomer was a woman dressed in black martial robes—Cha Yi-ran’s right hand and the most lethal operative of the Beauty Cult, an elite assassin organization. Her title was 1st Gyo. She was strikingly beautiful in her own right and had already cruised through the tournament's preliminary rounds.
Bowing respectfully, 1st Gyo delivered her report.
“The Unorthodox Path Alliance Leader has departed from the Alliance headquarters. We estimate he will arrive on the day the main tournament begins.”
Cha Yi-ran tilted her head slightly, her brow furrowing.
“That’s ahead of schedule.”
The main tournament was set to narrow the field down to eight finalists, with the final stage taking place three days later. The grand banquet the Unorthodox Path Alliance Leader was meant to attend wasn't scheduled until the evening after the finals.
Why was he arriving for the main tournament instead of the finale?
“It seems he intends to watch the main tournament in person.”
Ever since the Young Cult Leader of the Demonic Cult had intervened, the board had been shifting. For those trying to execute a delicate plan, these variables were far from welcome.
“What about his escort?”
“As expected, the Alliance Leader’s personal guards and the Young Alliance Leader are accompanying him, leading the 13 Wolves of the Unorthodox Path.”
Cha Yi-ran nodded slowly. “And the Heavenly Flower Pavilion Master?”
“She is still staying in the guest hall.”
“What about the Smiling Demon?”
“He hasn't moved.”
Cha Yi-ran turned to 1st Gyo, her voice dropping into a stern warning.
“They are eccentric and bizarre, which makes it easy to let your guard down. But never forget: the title of 'Extreme Evil' is attached to their names for a reason.”
With a sharp glint in her eyes, 1st Gyo bowed her head lower. “Understood. I will keep that in mind.”
After paying her respects, 1st Gyo stole a glance at her leader. She knew better than anyone how exceptional an assassin Cha Yi-ran was, but the enemies they faced this time were monsters. They were even more flamboyant and dangerous than the extravagant silks Cha Yi-ran currently wore.
The Young Cult Leader, the Smiling Demon, the Unorthodox Path Alliance Leader, and the Young Alliance Leader—the sheer weight of those names was suffocating.
Reading the worry in her subordinate's eyes, Cha Yi-ran held out the box.
“Do not worry. The key to our victory is contained within this.”
Though the box was tightly shut, an inexplicable, ominous energy wavered around it like a dark mist.
*
Finally, the day of the main tournament for the World’s Most Beautiful Woman contest dawned.
Lee An had been awake since the first light of dawn, climbing the rear mountain to practice her forms. Geom Mu-geuk followed, watching silently as she trained, her skin glistening with sweat. Though circumstances sometimes forced them apart, he made every effort to remain by her side.
“I’m just so nervous,” she admitted, coming to a halt. She only felt at peace when she was focused on her martial arts.
Once she finished her final set, Geom Mu-geuk asked, “Do you feel a bit better now?”
“I feel like I can breathe again.”
She said the words, but her hands were still trembling. It was nerve-wracking enough to perform martial arts before a massive crowd, but having to display her beauty was a different kind of pressure entirely.
Geom Mu-geuk read her mind better than anyone. “I’m sorry.”
Lee An let out a soft laugh at his apology. “I’m the one who should be grateful. If it weren't for you, Young Master, when would I ever have lived such an interesting life?”
“Right? Isn't that so?”
Instead of agreeing, Lee An lowered her head and began walking back down the path. “No way. I want to run away even now.”
Geom Mu-geuk followed her with a faint smile.
When they returned to the inn, a woman was waiting for them. Surprisingly, she was someone Geom Mu-geuk had personally summoned.
“I asked for her to be sent here,” he explained.
The woman had been found through the Anhui Branch of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult. She was a master of cosmetics, brought in specifically to prepare Lee An for the stage.
“You can’t go out to the main tournament with a bare face, can you?”
Lee An felt a surge of genuine gratitude. She had been worrying about how to handle her makeup, and Geom Mu-geuk had considered even that detail.
As Lee An sat before a polished bronze mirror after washing up, the woman smiled and spoke with practiced authority.
“Life may be short, but eyelashes must be long.”
To this woman, makeup was life itself. It held the same spiritual significance as a sword did to a master martial artist.
She advised Lee An to wear the white palace dress out of the two outfits they had prepared. While applying the cosmetics to complement the silk, she explained her techniques in detail. It was a masterclass in beauty from a woman at the peak of her craft.
While she worked, Geom Mu-geuk sat nearby with his eyes closed, regulating his breathing and centering his internal energy. The main tournament was about to begin.
There was no telling when the "incident" the Heavenly Flower Pavilion Master had envisioned would occur. It could be today, or it could be during the finals in three days.
He felt a flicker of pity for the Pavilion Master, but that envisioned future would never come to pass. He would make sure of it.
The makeup didn't take as long as expected. The woman demonstrated that a true master does not dawdle. A light tap here, a swift stroke there—her movements were so fluid and precise they were almost a blur. Her brushwork was the cosmetic equivalent of a lightning-fast sword technique.
“There. All finished.”
Lee An turned toward Geom Mu-geuk. Her eyes trembled with tension. She couldn't even recognize the reflection in the bronze mirror; she had no way of judging if she looked better than usual. She waited, both anxious and expectant, for his reaction.
Geom Mu-geuk, who had been deep in meditation, slowly opened his eyes. He stared at Lee An in silence for a long moment before speaking cryptically.
“Live with that face from now on.”
“You want me to wear makeup every day?” Lee An joked, though her heart sank slightly. Does he mean the makeup is better than my actual face? She turned to the makeup artist and teased, “Your skills are so good that you’ve become my hostage. I can't let you go now.”
Of course, she sensed there was a deeper meaning behind Geom Mu-geuk’s words. He wasn't the type to tell a martial artist to obsess over cosmetics.
Indeed, he clarified his point. “That’s not it. I mean you should live with the feeling this face gives off.”
Without makeup, she was the embodiment of purity. With it, she looked intense—sharp, regal, and undeniably beautiful. She looked like someone difficult to approach.
“Don't live with a weak heart. Don't be too kind. Don't be the first to strike up a conversation, and if someone approaches you with ill intent, tell them to get lost.”
You can't even do that yourself, Young Master! Lee An thought, but she smiled, touched by his sentiment.
“Yes! If I feel my heart growing weak, I’ll put on makeup first.”
“Shall we go then?”
Before leaving, Lee An bowed politely to the artist. “Thank you so much.”
“I’ve already been paid a king's ransom, so I’m the one who should be grateful,” the woman replied. “I shall see you again when you reach the finals.”
“Then today might be the last time,” Lee An said humbly.
The woman just laughed. “In three days, I will teach you the techniques that suit the red palace dress. Look forward to it!”
The woman firmly believed Lee An would advance. She had painted countless faces, but she had never seen one so naturally gifted, nor one that made her work feel so rewarding. She truly wouldn't have minded being taken "hostage" to do this every day.
With that, Geom Mu-geuk and Lee An headed toward the Sinhwa Guild.
The streets were overflowing with spectators. Lee An moved through the crowds with her face hidden by a veiled bamboo hat and her dress concealed beneath a light traveling cloak. Since over a hundred women had advanced to the main tournament, the proceedings were expected to take all day.
Behind the main stage was the largest hall in the Sinhwa Guild, serving as the waiting room for the participants. Escorts were strictly forbidden inside.
“Lee An.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
“You know who is inside, don't you?”
He had warned her that the enemy was an assassin organization composed of beautiful women. That meant several other assassins besides Cha Yi-ran were likely lurking among the contestants.
“From here on, the only one you can trust is yourself.”
Lee An nodded silently.
Just then, a man approached them. It was An Hu-pyeong. Sa Chu and several other warriors trailed a short distance behind him.
“Miss Lee. I wish you the best of luck,” An Hu-pyeong said.
“Thank you.”
“You will surely pass. I guarantee it.”
His "guarantee" carried the heavy implication that he would use his family's influence to rig the results. He failed to realize his words were patronizing, costing him whatever favor he hoped to gain. Having lived his whole life as a pampered heir, he was utterly incapable of considering the feelings of others.
His father, An Cheong-gwang, had built the Sinhwa Guild into a powerhouse, but the price of that ambition was paid by the character of his son.
Lee An entered the hall without another word.
It would have been nice if she’d said a few more words... Feeling petty from the dismissal, An Hu-pyeong turned his glare toward Geom Mu-geuk.
He hated this fellow. He hated him for no reason. He wanted to drag him into an alley, beat him senseless, and watch him crawl.
Because of that, his voice was laced with venom. “Escort Miss Lee properly! Do you understand?”
Having been served his entire life, he looked down on anyone in a subordinate role.
“Yes.”
An Hu-pyeong’s spite led to a sharp question. “How long have you been Miss Lee’s escort?”
“It has been a long time.”
“I’m asking exactly since when!”
Geom Mu-geuk thought back to when he had first started "protecting" Lee An. “I’ve done it since she was a little girl.”
“A little girl?” An Hu-pyeong paused, suspicious. An escort since childhood? Does that mean she’s of noble birth? “What exactly... is Miss Lee’s position in the Divine Cult?”
Geom Mu-geuk gave An Hu-pyeong a faint, mocking smile.
Feeling as if he were being ridiculed for only just now asking the important questions, An Hu-pyeong’s expression hardened. Is this bastard laughing at me?
Just as he was about to explode, a woman walked toward them. An Hu-pyeong froze. A woman as stunning as Lee An was approaching, though she radiated a completely different, more dangerous aura. It was Cha Yi-ran.
“It seems Miss Lee has already gone inside,” she noted.
“She just entered,” Geom Mu-geuk replied.
“Then my chance has come.”
An Hu-pyeong’s eyes narrowed as he saw Cha Yi-ran smiling provocatively at a mere escort. She was clearly a contestant, yet she was conversing with this servant as if they were equals.
“How about it? Shall we go for a private meal?” she asked.
It was her usual seductive banter, but Cha Yi-ran’s feelings toward Geom Mu-geuk had shifted. You saved that man? I can’t believe it.
She assumed Ak Gun-hak must have spared him. Ak Gun-hak wasn't the type to follow orders blindly, which was why she had been drawn to him. She wanted to ask Geom Mu-geuk what had happened. Why was he trying to leave? Where was he going?
After hearing about him from Hwa Do-myeong the previous day, he had been constantly on her mind. However, she knew she wouldn't get the full story unless this Young Cult Leader was on the verge of death.
“Let’s have a drink together tonight to celebrate advancing to the finals,” she suggested.
She spoke as if her victory were a foregone conclusion, expecting Geom Mu-geuk to refuse as he always did.
“Let’s do that.”
Cha Yi-ran blinked, genuinely surprised by his answer.
“Even if Miss Lee fails, you must keep your promise,” she pressed.
“You too, Miss—don't be ashamed even if you fail. Just come. I’ll buy the drinks.”
Cha Yi-ran laughed and headed inside. An Hu-pyeong, who had been looking for an opening to interject, found himself unable to speak. Normally, he would have jumped in to introduce himself and flaunt his status.
But he couldn't find his voice. It wasn't out of loyalty to Lee An; it was the vibe the woman gave off. Her aura clearly screamed: Don't bother me.
“Who is that woman?” An Hu-pyeong finally barked once she was gone.
“That is Miss Cha Yi-ran.”
“Who do you think you are, making dinner plans without Miss Lee’s permission? And telling a lady like that to come even if she fails? The arrogance!”
His jealousy boiled over. He was enraged that this escort could joke with a woman he hadn't even dared to address. If it weren't for Lee An, he would have ordered Sa Chu to drag the man away and break his bones.
“From this moment on, don't say a single word! If I see you open your mouth again, I’ll rip your tongue out!”
After the threat, he stormed over to Sa Chu.
Sa Chu, who had just received a message from a subordinate, spoke urgently. “The Unorthodox Path Alliance Leader and the Young Alliance Leader have arrived.”
“What? The Alliance Leader is already here?” An Hu-pyeong was stunned. He needed to make a perfect impression on them. “Where are they? Where are they right now!”
“They are likely meeting with the Guild Master.”
“Send the men to find out immediately! Especially the Young Alliance Leader—tell them to contact me the moment he moves!”
The Young Alliance Leader was the key to his future comfort and status. “I must be the very first to greet him!”
“Understood.”
As An Hu-pyeong paced nervously, he spotted Geom Mu-geuk in the distance, talking to someone else. It was a young-looking man, but since the stranger's back was turned, he couldn't identify him.
He had just told the escort to stay silent, yet there Geom Mu-geuk was, talking with a bright, easy smile.
This bastard!
An Hu-pyeong strode toward the two men, Sa Chu and his guards flanking him.
“Didn't I say I’d rip your mouth open if you spoke?”
“I really didn't want to,” Geom Mu-geuk replied, his smile never wavering. He pointed at the man in front of him. “But this person forced me to talk.”