Chapter 13
Chapter 13
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 13
Chapter Title: I'm Showing It Because It's You
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Changed into comfortable clothes and stepped outside, where Dang Ayoung eyed my body like it was on fire.
She'd just let out a disappointed sigh at the mask covering my face, but now her expression shifted to utter shock as she kept scanning me up and down.
"Hey... how old are you, exactly...?"
"Just past twenty."
I knew she'd react that way.
"...With that body?"
I'd expected it, but it still stung a little.
It's not like I wanted to stay this small.
My frame was already smaller and frailer than most people's, and then my height just flat-out stopped growing.
"Around seventeen or so, it refused to budge any further."
"Uh..."
Dang Ayoung glitched out like her brain was buffering.
"You definitely seemed a bit taller with the cloak on..."
"Insoles. Satisfied?"
The mysterious aesthetic would've fallen flat if I went around stubby as I really am, so I padded them a bit.
Not to hide anything, of course.
"I'm only showing you because it's you. Dare breathe a word of this anywhere, and forget the debt or anything else—I'm ghosting you for good."
Shaanxi's famous fortune teller? Turns out he's a shrimp not even five feet tall.
If that rumor spread, she'd be the prime suspect.
I've never spilled it to anyone else.
"But then... why show me?"
"To learn properly, I was told to ditch the cloak. So I did."
"..."
Dang Ayoung was genuinely flustered, mouth opening and closing without a sound.
Honestly, even I'd be shocked in her shoes.
A suspicious cloaked figure hiding this little kid inside?
Without the mask, I could've floored her even harder, but I wasn't about to risk it for that cheap thrill.
"I trust you, too. Besides, right now, the only person in the whole outside world I can call a friend is Young Master."
"...Only him?"
"Well... the tavern regulars? No booze, no conversation. Hard to call them friends. Young Master's the only real one."
No idea where Namgung Jin's wandered off to.
I could track him down if I tried, but no interest in chasing some random dude.
"..."
"Young Master?"
"Ah, no... I mean... it's nothing."
She hid her hands behind her back, looking shady as hell, but I dismissed it as my paranoia.
"Haa... haa..."
"Huuk... huuk..."
The room filled with the ragged panting of two men.
One was mine, the other his.
We'd been grappling nonstop to teach him the Golden Claw Technique, and naturally, it was my overwhelming victory every time.
"Hngh!"
Spotting my fatigue, he mustered his strength and lunged with a hand.
A ridiculously slow, clumsy move.
Not even a fraction of the technique I'd shown him.
Snag.
I lightly hooked his wrist and slipped my leg between his, sending him stumbling off-balance.
This exact move had flattened him countless times already, yet he still had zero countermeasures.
Let it go like this, and he'd eat dirt—obvious as day.
I shot out my other arm, wrapping it around his chest.
In that position, my face ended up pressed right against his neck. Unavoidable.
Sniff.
His scent flooded my nose up close.
Sweat should stink no matter the gender,
but I'd sound insane saying it came off as faintly sweet.
Haa... haa...
This wasn't the first or second time.
Something was building up inside me.
My head grew foggy, consciousness flickering out for split seconds here and there.
His slender arms and legs came into view.
A body so fragile, so delicate.
Even a lifelong shut-in scholar couldn't match this refinement.
Skin softer and fairer than most women's. Hard to believe he was a man.
Every little motion of his etched itself into my eyes.
Body's burning...
Not from the exertion.
Something deeper. Primal instinct as a living being, churning away.
"Hey, Young Master, let go already..."
I didn't want to.
Wanted to stay like this longer.
Protect him, comfort him, stroke him, embrace him, lick him, savor him...
"Young Master?"
"Hah?!"
W-what the hell was that thought?!
Guess I blacked out there for a sec.
No matter how tempting the body, he's still some guy whose face I haven't seen.
He'd said it himself: ugly mug, that's why the mask, hates his own looks.
Pop!
"S-sorry. Got lost in thought for a second..."
"It's fine. You're teaching me out of kindness."
I couldn't tear my eyes off him as he straightened his disheveled clothes.
But if I didn't say something, right then, something bad was gonna happen.
To me, not him.
"H-hey!"
My voice came out louder than intended.
Had to do something to rein in my body.
Hands, eyes, legs—all ignoring orders, fixated on him.
"Uh... ever thought about learning something besides the Golden Claw Technique?"
"...Something else?"
Managed to change the subject, barely.
"Yeah... Your build doesn't exactly scream frontline fighter, y'know? It's for self-defense anyway, so why not hidden weapons instead? Way more efficient."
"...Hidden weapons?"
"Sure, people call it sneaky, but if it lands right? You can drop someone way above your level. That's ambushes for you."
I desperately clamped down on my urges, pushing words out.
Like a coachman gripping the reins of a spooked horse.
"Hidden weapons, huh..."
His gaze drifted to empty air for a moment.
I turned—nothing but a plain wall that way.
"Sounds good."
"Alright, I'll head out then. Prep for hidden weapons next time, and I'll swing back."
"Already? You could stay longer."
...
............................................
"Hey."
I grabbed his shoulder, voice low.
"That was really dangerous. Don't do it again."
Barely held back.
Almost did something unforgivable.
For real.
Mount Hua Sect.
The sect whose name combines "shining hwa" with "mountain," evoking the image of a radiant peak.
With its main branch in Shaanxi, it's one of the province's mightiest powers. Like the righteous sects and Nine Great Sects, it at least claims to uphold justice on the surface.
Unlike other Taoist sects, it carries a strong warrior vibe, but make no mistake—they're proper Taoists.
And representing this Mount Hua Sect was none other than the famed Sword Empress.
She spent most of her time on the mountain now, but the righteous, gentle nature and stunning beauty she'd shown since her "Sword Flower" days in youth had only perfected with time, never fading.
.
.
.
Clunk.
The Sword Empress emerged from seclusion, and a waiting woman handed her a towel and fresh robes.
"How long was it this time?"
"Precisely 190 days."
"Longer than I thought..."
The woman might've wondered if she'd gained anything, but she held her tongue.
"At this level, closed-door training like this barely means much... yet my heart won't settle."
The Sword Empress wiped down with the towel and changed clothes.
Far past the stage where impurities built up, but clothes still bore the marks of time.
"No movement from the Demonic Cult?"
"Thankfully, no."
"Hoo..."
The Sword Empress recalled the Heavenly Demon's prowess from the Blood Cult war.
If anyone had reached the pinnacle of human potential, it was her—utterly overwhelming.
She transcended even the strongest imaginable.
Every top expert from the righteous sects, unorthodox paths, even the outlaws—gang up on her, and victory wasn't even conceivable.
"Honestly, I can't even dream of touching her."
The Blood Cult was formidable.
Especially their leader, master of martial arts and sinister sorcery—a matchup even she couldn't guarantee winning back then.
And that Blood Cult? Wiped out by one woman, essentially.
They'd arrogantly planned to paint the world in their blood, foolishly provoking the silent Demonic Cult and awakening a monster they shouldn't have.
Had the Blood Cult left them alone, the Central Plains might be under their heel now.
The Heavenly Demon was a benefactor, in a way,
but that was a separate issue.
If she and her Demonic Cult set out to conquer the Central Plains like past Heavenly Demons, she'd have to stand in their way.
For the Central Plains' sake.
"Anything happen in the Central Plains while I was shut away?"
"All peaceful. Bandits and pirates haven't stirred much lately."
"Good."
The Sword Empress smiled, satisfied her efforts weren't in vain.
"Oh, right—there's some bad news."
"What?"
"A fortune teller called the Faceless Golden Ghost popped up in Shaanxi. Brazen fool mocking heavenly secrets with his vile sorcery."
Like most Mount Hua folk, the woman despised the Faceless Golden Ghost.
She was a Taoist, after all.
"He running scams with his sorcery?"
"...Doubt it. Word is he's genuinely skilled."
"Extorting insane fees from desperate folks?"
"...All two silver taels, no exceptions."
"Then blowing that sorcery cash on tyranny?"
"...Heard he haunts taverns and gambling dens daily, but no real conflicts."
"Where's the villainy?"
No scams, no exploiting misery for profit, no rampages.
Not a sage yet, but no villain either.
"Even if no evil deeds, he's still twisting heaven's will for filthy coin..."
"Enough. We're no lords of heavenly secrets. What right do we have to meddle in him earning from his gifts?"
"B-but..."
"If he's committed evil, fine. But from what you've said? No issue in my eyes. If someone dodged disaster thanks to him, isn't that a boon?"
"..."
"I get how you feel. But based on this, I can't call him a villain."
"...Sorry."
"No need. I'm the one sorry, keeping you cooped up without a glimpse outside."
The Sword Empress finished up and headed out to announce the end of her training.
With the fresh outdoor air came word of the Faceless Golden Ghost—stirring her interest in a way only she knew.