Chapter 195
Chapter 195
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 196
Chapter Title: Seclusion (2)
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Dokgo Jinmuk's nocturnal raid shattered the midnight peace.
The uproar he caused stirred anxiety in everyone's hearts, leaving no one able to sleep soundly.
Moreover, the fact that the surprise attack had targeted not a martial artist, but Han Seojin, doubled the shock.
If Dokgo Jinmuk had intended to attack him, then no one present could consider themselves safe—a fear that spread in an instant.
Of course, the truth was that there had been a separate reason for targeting Han Seojin, but no one else knew that.
Soun immediately assembled a pursuit team to chase down this enemy of the martial world. They scoured the dark mountain paths for traces, but the deepening night and the tracks of a peak expert eluded them completely. The fruitless chase left only impatience and helplessness in its wake.
At that moment, Dang Soran refused to drop her suspicion that another person wearing a human skin mask might be among them.
Under her orders, the all-night search operation continued without pause until dawn.
Not only the Tang Clan retainers, but the Emei Sect nuns and even the accompanying villagers had their faces checked one by one, forced to verify each other's identities.
Only after all this was finished did the funeral for Yeon Chang, whose face had been stripped away, finally begin.
Hye-yul, the senior disciple of Emei Sect's second elder disciple, led the funeral rites.
It was only after morning broke that the chaotic atmosphere began to settle.
A heavy sense of foreboding still weighed on everyone's shoulders, but the morning sky was clear and bright.
The cool air, the lingering chirps of crickets, and the calls of birds heralded the start of a new day.
It all felt like yesterday's events had been nothing but a dream, or so Cheongwol thought.
Yet even as she did, her fingertips still trembled faintly, unable to shake off the shock from the day before.
The anxiety of nearly losing Han Seojin showed no sign of fading.
Who would have thought she'd ever worry so much about someone's well-being?
The more she dwelled on it, the darker her heart grew.
Yesterday's tragedy was entirely her fault.
If not for that, would Dokgo Jinmuk have had any reason to take an interest in Han Seojin?
That simple fact squeezed her chest with unrelenting guilt.
Because of it, she couldn't bring herself to approach Han Seojin.
She could only hold her breath and watch him from afar.
Once the funeral ended and morning had fully arrived, Han Seojin headed to the stream to wash the dirt from his body.
The Beggars' Sect elders followed him without leaving even an inch of space, as if they couldn't let him go alone.
Han Seojin waved them off and shook his head, but the elders' stubbornness didn't yield.
Cheongwol felt the same way.
The sight of him standing perilously alone by the water was something she couldn't bear to watch.
"Your own safety's completely out of your mind! What if that bastard Dokgo Jinmuk shows up again? You gonna go wash by yourself? Aren't you scared, you punk?"
"Is Dokgo Jinmuk an idiot? With everyone sharpening their blades for him, he'd come back? And yeah, I'm scared! But does that mean you have to follow me even to wash? Next you'll be chasing me to the outhouse!"
"You little shit, how can you compare those two things!"
Instead of arguing back, Han Seojin stripped off his clothes with a flourish.
"..."
In that instant, Cheongwol felt self-loathing for finding his body so appealing.
But she couldn't help the way her feelings for him deepened.
She liked everything about him.
Han Seojin roughly scooped up water and splashed it over himself, scrubbing vigorously.
Then he flashed a playful grin at the elders watching from the side.
"Feels refreshing. Come on, why the funeral faces? Did I die? Poor Yeon guy over there got it way worse..."
"You punk... Haa. Whatever."
Ma Childeok shook his head.
Cheongwol understood Han Seojin.
He was deliberately acting carefree to ease the Beggars' Sect elders' worries, hiding his true feelings. Even that consideration was part of his charm.
But Han Seojin didn't know.
The terror felt by those who cherished him when they dug him up from the ground. When his pale hand emerged from the dirt.
When they saw him lying there with eyes peacefully closed.
She knew that scene would haunt her dreams for a long time.
Perhaps she treasured him even more than he treasured himself, she wondered.
Gu Yeong still looked like he hadn't cooled off.
Now, even he scared her a little.
What if Gu Yeong, Ma Childeok, or even Gwak Du gave her an earful?
What if Cheongwol the novice told her never to approach their Seojin again?
"Seojin, kid. Why the hell was that guy targeting you?"
"..."
Only then did Han Seojin's movements stiffen.
"Why would one of the Demonic Cult's six leaders come straight for you!"
Han Seojin let out a deep sigh before answering.
"...Are you seriously asking because you don't know?"
And that was all the answer he needed to give.
Gu Yeong and Ma Childeok sighed.
They'd only wanted confirmation; they'd already suspected as much.
After placing first and second at the Dragon-Phoenix Assembly, the two young prodigies had been on friendly terms—how could that not draw attention?
Han Seojin knew it, the Beggars' Sect elders knew it, and Cheongwol certainly understood it too.
"Why do you think I've been saying I don't want to get tangled up with martial artists? The jianghu's all about entanglements and grudges— what can a powerless guy like me do? I just keep getting swept up like this... But now it's too late to turn back."
Han Seojin continued splashing water on himself.
Beneath his smiling expression, complex thoughts were surely churning.
This was the price of ignoring his words.
Suddenly, Cheongwol felt regret.
If she'd just meekly followed his advice, would this have happened?
Would the Demonic Cult have targeted him?
If she hadn't flaunted their friendship and only acted close when they were alone, as he'd asked.
Would this have happened then?
"Cheongwol!"
Just then, Han Seojin called out to her from afar.
Lost in her turmoil, Cheongwol startled.
In that moment of distraction, too much of her body had become visible from behind the tree.
She felt the eyes turning toward her.
The Beggars' Sect elders' gazes weren't exactly friendly, even as empty words.
Not accusatory, but tinged with complication.
They seemed helpless in their worry for Han Seojin.
Cheongwol didn't know what to do under those looks and tried to flee.
But Han Seojin kept waving her over.
Han Seojin shook out his hair and dried off.
The stream's cold water turned to white steam rising from his body.
Hesitating, Cheongwol walked toward him.
It wasn't that she hadn't wanted to be near him earlier out of guilt—she'd been dying to stick by his side.
The Beggars' Sect elders soon composed their expressions and greeted Cheongwol with smiles.
"Novice. Have you rested a bit? Your face looks awful."
Cheongwol shook her head.
Silence followed.
In the awkward air, Han Seojin spoke up.
"Uncles, could you give us a moment alone?"
"Yeah. Guess we should."
The Beggars' Sect elders stepped away.
Before leaving, they expressed deep gratitude to Cheongwol for finding Han Seojin, then departed.
"...Sorry."
Only when they were alone did Cheongwol whisper.
No other words came to mind.
No other words were possible.
Han Seojin burst into a hearty laugh.
"Knew you'd be like this. That's why I told you to stop acting close."
"...Eut."
She knew it was true, so why did it feel so stinging?
Yet she could sense the playfulness in his voice, the subtle warmth—he wasn't just blaming her.
If anything, he was bringing it up openly to brush off the uncomfortable topic quickly.
Han Seojin reached for her hand.
Guilt, hurt feelings, and regret all tangled inside her, making tears well up. She feared he'd hate her.
So she pulled her hand away petulantly.
She knew it was childish, but honest emotions like this always surfaced around him.
But Han Seojin didn't stop; he stroked her forearm and took her hand.
He drew both her hands to him.
Even after immersing in the cold stream, his hands burned like fire.
Looking at Cheongwol's hands, Han Seojin clicked his tongue.
"Your nails are all broken."
"..."
"Come here."
He led her to sit by the stream's edge.
Cheongwol obediently followed.
She knew she shouldn't show such intimacy again, but in this moment, she couldn't refuse.
Han Seojin carefully cleaned the dirt and blood from under her nails.
Cheongwol flinched at the pain.
"Does it hurt?"
"..."
Unsure how to answer, she chose silence.
Han Seojin didn't wait for a reply and continued cleaning her hands.
"...You don't hate me?"
After long agonizing, Cheongwol finally asked.
Even as she did, she dreaded the answer.