A Damsel Floats Down the River
My master in this murim world without a Heavenly Demon was, to put it nicely, an eccentric. To be honest, a total madman. The guy hit on women with every trick in the book to find his soulmate, only to croak as a virgin at 96. No normal person ends up like that.
No matter how much his face suffered from a severe lack of narrative plausibility—okay, fine, it was pretty damn ugly—living life as a lifelong virgin was enough to stir pity in anyone. And my master had this one thing he always said.
"Sochan, a real man always needs the means to provide for at least one woman."
"Master, I can barely take care of myself. Why should I?"
"Why? You never know when or how a pretty little lady might drop into your lap. Falling from the sky or floating down a river— you gonna let her starve?"
"...I doubt that'll ever happen for real, but even if it did, what are the odds she'd be young and beautiful? And she'd probably be on the run from someone dangerous. How do I handle that?"
"You dull disciple. That's why your master here taught you martial arts."
That was a week before he passed. Even then, Master truly believed some pretty girl would one day plop into my life out of nowhere.
Just thinking back makes my head spin, but without that affection, he never strayed down the path of a lust demon. He never even visited a brothel for the same reason. If only he'd gone to one...
Anyway, he lived his whole life as a virgin without resenting anyone—not even those who rejected him. "As long as there was happiness once, it's fine," he'd say with a smile, sharing old tales I still remember to this day.
...Mostly because they were all so batshit insane I couldn't forget them if I tried. But today, that master of mine feels so damn missed.
"Who knew Master was right..."
I really did go to fetch water and ended up scooping a pretty girl floating lazily down the river.
One hand carrying a bucket full of water, the other dragging a limp, soaked woman—I made it back to my cabin. I set the water in the kitchen for now and laid the mystery lady on the bed first.
"......"
Thank goodness she was breathing, but she still hadn't come to. What to do...
First things first: body temperature. Lighting a fire with firewood would take too long. Hypothermia could set in by then. And I couldn't just build a bonfire inside. So, only one option left.
Strip off the wet clothes and bundle her in layers of dry ones.
I grabbed some relatively clean clothes from the wardrobe and a thick winter quilt, piling them beside her. Gulp.
Thinking about what came next made me swallow hard on reflex. Pale pink hair cascading down to her hips. Flawless features you could tell were stunning even with her eyes closed. And those massive tits.
Twenty-five years in my past life, twenty in this one—forty-five total. I'd never seen my ideal type in all that time. My hand reached out toward her.
This is rescue work. Squish.
...And these are watermelons.
After a brief hesitation, I stripped her clothes off briskly, revealing those enormous breasts. Her thin undergarments were soaked, translucent enough to faintly show her skin. Whoa! Pink!
The tips of those breasts—bigger than her head, by the look of it—were inexplicably standing at attention. ...Cold, maybe?
I snapped out of it; this wasn't the time to ogle. I hurriedly wiped off the moisture and dressed her in fresh, fluffy clothes. Finally, I wrapped her tight in the quilt like a burrito and could breathe easy.
They were so soft and squishy... No, I mean, her temperature should be fine now.
Next up: food. But can she eat while unconscious? No IV fluids in this world, so I needed a workaround. Animals chew food for their young and mouth-feed it, but I'm human—no need for that, right?
Slightly resenting my humanity—just a tiny bit—I headed to the kitchen. Porridge it is.
Four days passed like that. Mysteriously, she ate everything I fed her but never needed to shit or piss. What the hell?
Did she wake up already and sneak out only when I was asleep to handle business? Honestly, I'd been dying to change her undergarments under the excuse of necessity and check if down there was pink too. Sucks that I couldn't.
She still hadn't opened her eyes, but this woman was my ideal type incarnate. I didn't want to grope her while she was out and get caught later, earning her contempt.
Even without that, touching an unconscious woman felt iffy on principle. If only there was an excuse like changing piss-soaked clothes or wiping sweat—but nope, nothing.
How does a person go like that? Her huge chest rose and fell steadily; she was clearly alive. No waste at all—her body always smelled amazing.
The usual bachelor stink was gone, replaced by a fragrant aroma filling the room. I felt great every time I walked in. There's an idiom for it: filled with cautionary fragrance or something? Like a lotus blooming and banishing the sewer smell.
Well, my smell wasn't sewer-level, but the point is the room was overflowing with her sweet scent.
...Master picked that line up trying to woo a Beggar Clan heroine, apparently. Ended in failure, of course. "A dog-looking guy spouting dogshit gets the dog-beating stick," she said, chasing him off with staff strikes.
Honestly, if some creep stalked me all day, blocking my begging and spewing cheesy lines, I'd lose it too.
Anyway, she's still in the clothes I put on her that first day. They must be soaked in her scent by now. When I give them back later, I'll bury my face and—
Hold up. The clothes are the same? Perfect excuse: change her back into her originals!
Grinning like an idiot, I pulled out her dried clothes. Too tense last time to look properly—this time, focus.
This is just patient care. Yup!
Heart pounding, my hand reached for her collar.
Flash.
The woman—who hadn't twitched till now—opened her eyes. Up close, her irises were the same pale pink as her hair. How does a color like that even exist? Dazed by their jewel-like clarity, I stared blankly.
But as her gaze slowly focused straight on me, I snapped to. I backed away fast, lowering my voice.
"You're finally awake."
"......"
She slowly sat up, staring at me silently. I handed her the gourd with a couple sips left, acting like nothing happened.
"I don't know what happened, but you're safe now. Rest until you're better."
"......"
She took the gourd, peering blankly at her reflection on the water surface before speaking.
"C-cl-cl-cl-clo...!"
"Ahem. No need to thank me. Saving a life doesn't need a reason. Just focus on recovering qui—"
"CLOOOOOOTHES—————!!"
Her beautiful yet intimidating voice echoed through the tiny room.
"How dare you try to deceive this lady! I saw with my own eyes you panting like a beast, about to pounce on me!"
"M-misunderstanding! I was just checking if you were breathing properly!"
My body sensed doom and spat out my pre-rehearsed excuse on spinal reflex, no brain required.
"Do you know how many days it's been since I fished you from the river?! Four days! Four! Not a single twitch, so I was checking if you were alive or dead!"
"Daring to spew lies before this lady again! This lady, with the inner power of five jia, for four days... four days...?"
She glanced around in confusion, then clutched her collar with one hand, eyeing her body with growing unease.
"This lady's inner power...?"
Inner power? A murim person? I hadn't sensed any... And five jia? Ridiculous amount. She'd pass as Murim Alliance Leader if she claimed it.
Her speech pattern too—maybe a head injury making her think she's a murim expert.
"These aren't this lady's clothes. Surely..."
"Right. Those are fresh ones I changed you into. You were freezing; leaving the wet ones on could've been fatal."
"......"
She stared wordlessly at her clothes—her massive chest—for a long moment, then sighed deeply.
"So... you've already peeped at this lady's bare flesh without permission?"
"Why frame it like that? I was just trying to—"
"Enough. I'm not blaming you."
Her eyes, clearer now than when she first woke, sparkled with sharp intellect.
"My mind's clearing. My last memory was hurling myself off a cliff. Even if I survived, you'd have found me half-frozen to death."
She gulped down the remaining water from the gourd and continued.
"I get it—you saved this lady. And unavoidably glimpsed her body in the process."
She hesitated, lips twitching, then bowed her head deeply in apology.
"Forgive my earlier rudeness. My senses were muddled upon waking, but I was impolite to my lifesaver..."
Stung by guilt—I'd been scheming excuses to strip her again—my inner compass spun wildly. Then another bomb dropped.
"This lady is Hong Yeonhwa. Though powerless now, as the seventh cult leader of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult and the Heavenly Demon of this era, I swear here and now to repay the debt I owe you."
...This is a wuxia world, but there are no demonic cults. Heavenly Demon? Obviously not.