Chapter 30: The Wolf Disciple (2)
Chapter 30: The Wolf Disciple (2)
As always, there was a teacher-disciple sparring match today to cultivate Yin Cold Qi. Now that I could fully manifest Intent-Shaped Aura in the form of a wolf, my win rate against Seol Yu-ran had risen considerably, without even needing to use Lightning Qi.
Even when I had manifested only a single claw, I had torn her blizzard to shreds. Now that I could complete the form, we were able to fight on nearly even terms.
Perhaps it was because I had created my own body-enhancement technique, Ice Wolf Body Transformation, but my control over the Ice White Divine Art had also made a huge leap.
Thanks to that, even today, I had achieved a remarkable result:
"Astonishing."
A draw against Seol Yu-ran.
The claws of my Ice Wolf Body Transformation rested against Seol Yu-ran's chest, while her Snow Tears touched my throat.
We had reached a draw, with our attacks aimed at vital points—her heart and my throat. Who would believe it if I said this was the result of only one week of learning the Ice White Divine Art?
Even Seol Yu-ran, standing right in front of me, could hardly hide the tremor in her eyes, despite having taught me herself. She must have reached the Peak Realm after countless trials and errors, and yet I had caught up with her in a single bound.
"To think you'd master the Ice White Divine Art in just one week."
"I haven't mastered it yet. My Yin Cold Qi is still lacking."
I hadn't truly mastered it. A rise in combat power and mastery of a martial art overlapped a great deal, but they weren't the same thing.
In my case, thanks to a profound enlightenment, I had pushed my combat power using the Ice White Divine Art to its absolute limit. But the Yin Cold Qi itself hadn't grown very much.
"If it weren't a short fight, I wouldn't even have been able to reach you, Master."
"That's right. Your Yin Cold Qi is nowhere near mine."
Compared to Seol Yu-ran, whose Yin Cold Qi was so vast that it could make her surroundings resemble the North Sea, mine was no more than a speck. Knowing that, Seol Yu-ran didn't deny what I said, but she couldn't hide her complicated feelings, either.
If the fight had dragged on, I really would have lost.
And Seol Yu-ran was skilled enough to make a fight against me last, even while using the Plum Blossom Sword Technique and the Ice White Divine Art at their fullest.
It was just that her pride—as my teacher, however much a formality, and as someone who had learned the Ice White Divine Art long before me—wouldn't let her win by dragging the fight out.
"Still, I never imagined there'd be this sort of drawback to learning the Ice White Divine Art after you've already crossed the wall. Your enlightenment has raced far ahead before you've even had time to build up your Yin Cold Qi."
"There's nothing to be done about that. I can't stop sparring with you, Master."
There was a good reason I kept sparring with Seol Yu-ran like this, even though Chi-chi had reached Super Peak.
"You said that clashing Ice White Divine Arts would help Yin Cold Qi grow faster."
"That's right. So there's nothing for it. I'll keep being your opponent for a while longer."
"Then—"
"Today's lesson is over, so I'll be off!"
Before I could even bring up the idea of getting a massage today, Seol Yu-ran left at a speed even faster than she'd shown during our sparring match.
She was so swift, like a flash of lightning, that I got distracted by the sight of her breasts bouncing—having broken free of the compression bandage—and let her get away.
Lately, she kept running off first like this. Perhaps she found it difficult to keep rejecting her disciple's pure(?) devotion, given that she was my teacher, so she had chosen to run away before I could even bring it up.
'This isn't easy.'
I had planned to close the distance between us by giving her a thorough electrotherapy massage, after seeing how spectacularly she had succumbed to the electric-current treatment. But at this rate, it was pointless.
Feeling that I needed to revise my plan a little, I decided to target the horse before the general.
***
Though she had reached the Peak Realm, Seol Yu-ran thought of herself as the mistress of a household, and so she had come down to the village to shop. She had suffered no shortage of trouble because of her beauty, so she wore a veil to keep herself from being seen and dressed in the loosest clothes she could find to hide her figure.
Thanks to that, rumors had spread through the village about a mysterious married woman who kept her face covered. By now, the villagers were accustomed to her, and they sold her their goods without acting awkward around her.
"Madam Seol. Here's the sesame oil you ordered."
"Thank you."
"Think nothing of it. I'm the one who should be grateful to you for always buying from my shop."
The shopkeeper spoke to her as if she were an ordinary neighbor, but his gaze was fixed on her chest. Given that he was leering at a woman who already had a husband, he deserved to be slapped three times over, but Seol Yu-ran didn't care.
How many men had stared at her body over the years?
Even her own master, who had died of old age after failing to overcome the aftereffects of his shattered dantian, had leered at her breasts until the day he died.
By now, Seol Yu-ran had accepted that receiving men's stares was simply her fate.
It wasn't as if she could cut off her breasts.
As she left the shop under the shopkeeper's gaze, Seol Yu-ran suddenly thought of Geum Tae-yang. He was an adult man who was lewd like the shopkeeper, but unlike other men, who pretended they weren't, he stared at her far more brazenly.
The disciple she had newly taken on in order to save her daughter was a lecherous man, one who suited his One-Person Inheritance sect.
"Phew. Teaching a disciple is harder than I thought."
Even if she used a compression bandage to hold them in place, there was no avoiding vigorous movement during a sparring match.
Whenever that happened, Geum Tae-yang's gaze would fix on her chest as it bounced, leaving him open to attack. The thought of it left her feeling conflicted.
That even a martial artist who had attained enlightenment far beyond her own could be so shaken by mere lumps of fat called breasts, committing mistake after mistake—did that mean her chest was truly that alluring to men?
'My husband... has no interest in my breasts.'
Wi Ji-ja had been the same way in the past, but ever since Wi Ji-bo was born, he had shown not the slightest attention to her body.
Because of this, Seol Yu-ran couldn't help but feel confused about the nature of men.
Originally, the Ice Palace had provided proper education on finding a good husband, but before she could receive it, the sect had been destroyed in an incident, leaving her with only the most basic knowledge of men.
And now, Geum Tae-yang was a disciple—and a man—who struck her as shockingly unconventional.
She had a husband who had once been called the Sword Saint. As a proper wife, she had lived faithfully, never letting her gaze stray elsewhere. That was only natural.
...Though lately, perhaps because she was lonely, that natural resolve was beginning to waver.
'Still, I must endure. This is for our Bo-a.'
She had a precious daughter, Wi Ji-bo. Filled with a mother's love, willing to bear anything for her child's treatment, she had even considered abandoning her chastity and throwing herself into his arms if necessary.
But Geum Tae-yang had assured her it wouldn't come to that, and so they had settled into a proper master-disciple relationship—one she taught with sincerity.
Yet she was thirty-eight, nearing the age of no delusions. A woman in her prime, burning with desire, and as a woman of the North Sea, she had suppressed her cravings for over five years.
Now, it seemed the dam of her patience was reaching its limit. Images of her disciple's lewd crotch and his full-body massages that sent pleasure coursing through her—they often surfaced in her mind.
Honestly... if she disregarded the exotic appeal of his golden hair and sun-bronzed skin (traits she herself shared), and if she weren't already a married woman who had borne a child—
'Could I have resisted?'
He was a libertine, yes, but undeniably manly, immensely skilled, and even his lower half seemed... impressive. He was an undeniably attractive man.
But for the sake of her husband and daughter, she stubbornly refused him. Resolving once more to keep her distance from her disciple tomorrow, she returned to the cottage where her family waited.
"Honey, I'm ho—"
The moment she opened the door, she froze.
"Kyahaha! Kyahk!"
"Higher! Higher!"
There, in what should have been her sanctuary, was her disciple playing with her daughter. Just moments ago, she had steeled herself to maintain boundaries—yet now, seeing him right before her eyes, entertaining Wi Ji-bo so cheerfully, how could she not be flustered?
Geum Tae-yang set down Wi Ji-bo, the apple of her eye, and promptly bowed his head to the returning Seol Yu-ran.
"Master. You're back."
"Why... are you here?"
"Well... the Sword Saint pulled his back, so I was keeping Bo company."
The news that her husband was injured hit her like a bucket of cold water, snapping her back to reality.
"My husband is hurt? Where is he?"
"He's resting in his room. At his age, a strained back must be quite painful."
She immediately turned toward the room he indicated. Inside, Wi Ji-ja lay groaning atop a spread-out blanket.
Rushing to his side, she took his hand with a look of heartache, as if she were the one in pain.
"Honey, how did you get hurt?"
"Haha. Sorry about this. Must've been the blood surging after so long—I swung my sword and threw out my back, that's all."
The reason nearly brought tears to her eyes.
A martial artist who had lost all his internal energy, his dantian shattered. A man who had once reached the Peak Realm, who had willingly stepped forward for justice—only to end up like this. How could she not grieve?
She had thought that after becoming an ordinary man, he would focus on domestic life, but it seemed he still couldn't let go of the glorious days of his prime.
And because it was her husband, the regret and pity cut even deeper.
"Stop worrying me like this. Our Bo-a is about to be fully cured—if you get hurt now, how can our family be happy?"
"Ahem. Ahem. I'm sorry, dear."
Faced with Seol Yu-ran's distress, Wi Ji-ja seemed to realize he had been reckless, and cleared his throat awkwardly, as if embarrassed.
"Well, since I'm injured like this, I've asked Physician Geum to take over for me until I recover. So don't worry."
"...What?"
At this sudden, incomprehensible statement, Seol Yu-ran stiffened.
Misinterpreting her reaction, Wi Ji-ja continued.
"Haha. Physician Geum may not look it, but he's very meticulous. From laundry to cleaning, he does everything thoroughly. And he plays so well with Bo-a. She really likes him."
"......."
With a stiff creak of her neck, Seol Yu-ran turned her head toward the living room, where Geum Tae-yang was.
He was playing tag with Wi Ji-bo—and her daughter's expression was unmistakably, genuinely delighted.
The words "No, you can't" that had been on the tip of her tongue slid back down her throat.
"It's been so long since she's been able to play like this. Meeting Physician Geum was truly a blessing, don't you think, dear?"
"...Yes. It is."
After seeing that, she couldn't bring herself to refuse.
And those thick, muscular arms of his, the veins bulging prominently—
'No, what am I even thinking?'
Especially when it was all because of her own depraved circumstances—how could she possibly—!