Chapter 3
Chapter 3
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Emei Sect's Thousand-Year Flower (3)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
About fifteen minutes before stepping into Han Seojin's basement.
Cheongwol immersed her body in the cold valley water, washing away her body, her clothes, her hands, and her guilt.
The clear current flowed red.
As the heat of battle faded, the bandits' agonized faces and dying gazes resurfaced. The scene circled her like a vivid hallucination.
“...”
Cheongwol took a deep breath and gazed at her reflection on the water's surface.
Bloodstained attire, a merciless expression, and trembling eyes.
...She hadn't originally meant to slaughter them all so brutally.
But their provocations and sexual harassment, piled atop her pent-up frustration, had led things this way.
Of course, that didn't change the fact that they deserved to die.
They were the kind who mercilessly exploited the lives ordinary folk had built through sweat. If cutting down scum like that wasn't right, then what was?
Borrowing Shaolin Temple's words... If not me, then who? If not now, then when?
Yet the moment she looked at her rippling reflection again, an inexplicable fear enveloped her heart.
It stemmed from the feeling she could sense if she suppressed her excuses and faced the truth a little more honestly.
“...”
...It felt refreshing.
The sensation of shedding Emei Sect's strict discipline and acting as she pleased.
The thrill of crushing those who had insulted her.
This free sensation.
The strange pleasure of doing what she shouldn't.
...Was this a Heart Demon?
“...”
...This refreshment terrified her.
Her sect's teachings to avoid killing were still etched into her bones.
So why was she twisting like this?
The Sect Leader would surely be disappointed if she saw this.
Her chest felt unburdened and her breathing easy, yet her hands trembled with fear of discovery.
...If only someone had told her this was right, her heart might have been at ease.
'Y-Yeah, bandits like that deserve to die...! Of course! Watching you boldly cut down those bandit scum was so refreshing!'
She recalled a man shouting empty praise in terror.
Leather Room's owner. Han Seojin.
“...”
...It was strange.
No matter how she thought about it, his reaction was off.
She wasn't talking about hiding the basement.
Everyone had something they wanted to keep secret.
What struck Cheongwol as odd was Han Seojin's attitude toward the entire incident.
As if he had known she would do it.
As if he had anticipated her darkness.
Cheongwol knew well how she appeared in the Central Plains.
A mere second-generation disciple who had already become a first-rate martial artist—a rising star of the martial world.
Popularity from the etiquette she displayed per Emei Sect's teachings and her righteous words and deeds.
...And she was aware her appearance outshone others'.
Emei Sect's Thousand-Year Flower. That's what they called her.
For someone like her to brutally tear apart bandits in secret.
What had his attitude been?
Not toward a righteous faction's junior talent, but like facing an evil faction's master.
He hadn't been overly shocked, and he'd feared her excessively.
...Of course, recalling the gruesome state of the sprawled corpses, his reaction wasn't incomprehensible... But Cheongwol's instincts told her otherwise.
Something was there.
At the sudden thought, Cheongwol's breathing grew irregular.
...What if Han Seojin was from the Hao Gate?
What if this information spread across the Central Plains?
“...Hah.”
The moment she imagined it, the Sect Leader's distorted face appeared vividly.
That couldn't happen.
How hard had she worked to make the Sect Leader who took her in proud?
She ate the same vegetable rice every day and rose before the roosters each dawn for training.
She suppressed her instincts to uphold propriety. She had to be a chaste and refined woman.
After passing twenty, the standards grew even stricter. She had to smile even at annoying laymen's approaches or when a child accidentally splashed water on her clothes.
To meet Emei Sect's expectations for her, she had whipped herself relentlessly.
She couldn't let it all go to waste.
Cheongwol's eyes sank heavily.
...Fine. Since she'd already let the reins slip once.
...What difference would one more time make?
Resolving this unease came first.
What exactly was Han Seojin hiding?
...She needed to find out.
****
Cheongwol entered the basement and let out a cold laugh.
“Ha.”
-Thud.
She shook her leg to dislodge me, dangling from her.
Already rough in her movements.
The flickering candle illuminated her sporadically, and the ominously hanging tools gleamed as well.
I slumped to the floor, unable to react.
Cold sweat soaked my back.
Fear was one thing, but did she know how humiliating this was for me?
Like getting caught jerking off in front of family?
My sexual tastes laid bare.
“S-So... young lady...”
Cheongwol tapped at the wooden doll hanging from the ceiling by its ponytail tie. Tock tock.
She then touched the whips and various ropes on the wall.
She glanced oddly at the cat-ear headband and passed it by, then removed the leather cuffs from the wall and held them in her hand.
She slipped the cuffs onto her fingers and spun them around before finally turning to me.
“...A torture room?”
Her voice was calm, but the killing intent within was all too clear.
“Yeah. Couldn't quite pinpoint it, but I thought your attitude toward me was strange. What are you? Extermination Sect?”
She examined my tools thoughtfully for a while, then shook her head slightly and placed her hand on her sword's hilt.
Even her refined expression gradually darkened.
It took only a shift in her eyebrow angle to change from beautiful woman to cold-blooded killer.
And her mouth corners held a strange relief, as if glad she could kill me.
“...Doesn't matter. Actually, this works out better. No one knows my secret—”
Cheongwol's hand touched her sword.
In that instant, it was as if a panorama flashed by, time slowing.
My mind scrambled for a survival strategy.
Gonna die for real. I'll die like this.
But my mind went blank, and my mouth reacted first.
“—It's a misunderstanding!!”
I shouted loudly.
At the sudden volume, Cheongwol froze for a moment.
I pushed off the ground with my trembling legs and stood.
“...Misunderstanding?”
I blurted out whatever came to mind.
“T-To corner someone over their hobby like this is too much!”
“...Hobby?”
“You were troubled, so I dared offer my humble bedroom! I endured fear and discomfort alike! Yet you rummage through my private space without permission and insult me! Is this Emei Sect's teaching? Can martial artists threaten people like this!”
Cheongwol listened briefly, then gripped her sword tighter and spoke.
“...Pretty words. You think a normal person would hide a torture room underground?”
“Who said this is a torture room! You're the one assuming, judging, and pressuring!”
Cheongwol nodded toward the tools behind her.
I shouted back.
“Th-The whips are made with force that can't seriously harm! The leather cuffs aren't that sturdy either! Th-The ropes are softly finished so they don't cut skin when tied! How can you call this room a torture room with no branding iron!”
I rushed to the wall and grabbed the cat-ear headband, shaking it.
“Th-This...! How do you torture someone with a decoration like this!”
“...Ha.”
Cheongwol chuckled softly, as if to say, keep talking.
“Then explain it yourself. The purpose of this room that looks exactly like a torture chamber.”
I have to live.
I have to live.
What should I say?
'Den of desire'? She wouldn't get it.
'SM room'? 'What's that?'
'Play space'? With how menacing it looks?
The longer the silence, the shorter her patience seemed.
Think fast.
A space for desire and stress relief, in wulin terms?
“It's a space for relieving Heart Demons!”
“...”
“...”
Silence fell at my words.
Ah.
Only after the words left did embarrassment crash over me like a wave.
Shame comparable to the terror of death.
...But it's not entirely a lie...
Modern folks relieve stress this way.
“...Heart Demon?”
Cheongwol's eyes narrowed.
“Y-You, young lady Cheongwol, are afflicted with a Heart Demon.”
No more hiding.
To survive, I had to fully utilize what I knew.
Cheongwol's eyelids twitched at that moment.
Of course, she'd already been seen butchering people by me, but linking that to a Heart Demon was another matter.
Even a righteous martial artist—or a monk—could surrender to rage as a human.
But I had precisely pinpointed the Heart Demon within her.
“You said my attitude toward you was strange? Of course it was! I'd already sensed young lady Cheongwol's Heart Demon...! How could I not fear when you might not be the person I thought...!”
“...How did... you...”
“Why does it matter how I knew? What matters is my words aren't lies! Tell me. Don't you suffer from a Heart Demon?”
“...”
Cheongwol blinked, seemingly unable to find a retort.
Soon, she frowned and spoke again.
“...So? What's the connection between this torture room and relieving Heart Demons? You're not saying you relieve it through torture and punishment.”
“I-I told you it's not torture. It's psycho-therapy premised on mutual consent...!”
“Don't treat me like a fool? You think someone gets healed wearing these shackles and taking these whips? What kind of lunatic voluntarily bleeds and feels pain to find comfort?”
Cheongwol's sword began sliding from its sheath.
“Enough. Tired of this wordplay. Time to—”
I waved my hands frantically.
“W-Wait! Wait, young lady! I'm explaining! Not everyone experiences pain as painful!”
I dredged up examples.
“For instance, some enjoy bitter tea! Because the refreshment beyond that bitterness feels good!”
I glanced at Cheongwol and continued.
“Or take intense exercise—you know it's painful during. Breathless, muscles tearing, body screaming. But the relief at the end? Heavier and deeper than any comfort, right?”
“...”
Cheongwol fell silent again.
Her face said she was listening to my nonsense.
I pressed on.
Stopping now meant death.
“The emotions we feel—pleasure and displeasure—are far more subjective than we think, sometimes intertwined. One person rages at a stimulus; another finds mental peace in it. These shackles and ropes are the same context!”
Cheongwol retorted.
“...There are people who like being shackled, bound by ropes, deprived of freedom? That's what you're saying?”
“Yes!”
Masochists exist in the world.
...Not sure about the wulin world.
“...Fine, bitter tea has refreshment beyond bitterness, exercise brings relief after—so that makes sense. But what's good about physical freedom being stripped that someone chooses it?”
Cheongwol, who would never entrust her body to another, seemed unable to grasp it.
...Truth is, even I don't fully know!
How would I know why masochists are masochists...!
But I couldn't say that. To survive, I had to dress up this pervy act beautifully.
A plausible excuse popped up.
“Ph-Physical freedom restricted, but in exchange, psychological liberation!”
“What?”
My brain had never spun this fast.
“People unknowingly bind themselves with ropes. Social expectations, responsibilities, status—they all become ropes that bind. This lack of freedom soaks clothes like drizzle, becoming immense pressure over time. Y-You, as a righteous faction's junior talent bearing expectations, understand to some degree, right?”
“...”
“To escape this pressure, they temporarily surrender self-control to another...! Just to breathe!”
“Surrendering bodily control and escaping social pressure—what's the connection?”
“Wh-While under control, they realize anew how frail and powerless they are! They set down the burden of always walking the right path! Only then are they free from the world's expectations, right?”
I recalled high-status people often being masochists?
Those who control everything seek to be controlled, surrendering themselves.
Of course, not all.
Otherwise, all elites would be masochists?
“...”
But Cheongwol finally seemed to grasp my argument, if only a little.
Her expression twisted ever so slightly—the most dramatic reaction I'd seen today.
I didn't miss the chance and continued.
“Even Daoism emphasizes it, right? Y-Yin-yang harmony! Just as light needs darkness, physical discomfort brings mental ease... that kind of thing!”
“...”
Cheongwol's expression became unreadable.
No doubt my words were rippling within her.
I kept pushing.
“I-I'm guilty of nothing...! I'm righteous, young lady!”
My words were bold, but inwardly I was apologizing to Buddha, writing a will to Beggars' Sect uncles, cursing my mushroom-hunting self.
The cat-ear headband in her hand felt pathetic.
“If there's sin, it's only living diligently. Would I, insane, torture people under Emei Sect's nose? One scream and the neighbors would know!”
Ah, should I scream?
That Cheongwol's murdering.
...No. Dead me can't explain, neighbors would point at the basement calling me evil faction scum.
“...”
A faint tension eased from Cheongwol's body.
That tiny motion looked like a ray of hope to me.
My mouth was parched. My back soaked in cold sweat, heart pounding like a rock with each breath.
I screamed inwardly three times.
Please. Please believe me. Please spare me.
And—
“...Do it.”
“...Pardon?”
An unexpected reply flowed out.
Cheongwol withdrew her hand from the sword and straightened her upper body more rigidly.
“...Experiencing it will confirm. If it helps with Heart Demons.”
“...Uh...”
“...So, do it.”
Cheongwol said as she stepped closer.
“D-Do what...”
My tongue twisted from the dryness; my mind was a total blank.
“What you've described so far.”
She said it oh-so-calmly.
“T-To whom...”
I asked like it was my last hope.
“Who else is here besides me?”
“...”
...So, do SM play?
...With Emei Sect's Thousand-Year Flower?
“C-Can't do it!”
At my response, Cheongwol's face twisted terrifyingly again.
“This bastard mocking me to the end—”
“—I-I told you! It requires fully surrendering to the other! Y-You must keep your body pure as an Emei disciple! H-How could I?”
“...What's chastity got to do with it? You said it was physical pain—”
In our haste, we kept cutting each other off.
“—Sp-Specifically, surrendering everything. Can you follow shameful commands?”
“...? Like what—”
“—F-For example, making you pee outdoors...”
“...!”
Even in the darkness, I clearly saw Cheongwol's face flush red.
With those words alone, not just her face—her earlobes and nape burned like wildfire.
-Slap!
By the time I came to, Cheongwol had already struck my cheek.
Separate from her being a crazy bitch, it was a very feminine reaction.
“You crazy filthy thing...!”
A rough curse burst from her mouth.
I yelled back, feeling wronged.
“I-I told you!! That's why I can't!!”
“...Y-You... filthy...!”
Anger? Panic? Or emotions overwhelming her body at once?
Her fists clenched at her sides, shoulders heaving, pupils wandering unfocused.
“...P-Perverted...!!”
Stammering and flustered for a while, she suddenly bolted away.
Before I could call out, she slammed the basement door shut and vanished.
-Bang!
The glare that had been set to kill me moments ago, the cold murderous aura—all gone.
“...?”
...Cheongwol ran away?
I was too stunned by her abrupt departure to react.
I hadn't expected it, couldn't understand it.
Only her frantic footsteps lingered long in my ears.
After she left, I sat slumped in the basement for a long while.
The situation was too hard to comprehend.
“...Did I survive?”