A Novel Experience
The one relief was that it was a domestic flight, meaning no passport was required. For So Rihwa, who had spent every passing day just struggling to survive, a passport for traveling abroad had been nothing short of an unthinkable luxury.
Even if it was only within the country, this marked her very first trip in her current body. Try as she might to act nonchalant, a thrill of anticipation fluttered in her chest. Travel was supposed to be a portal to novel experiences, wasn't it? She was genuinely curious to see what the Sichuan of this world was like.
"This is my first time boarding an airplane in this body..."
Rihwa tugged uncomfortably at her shoulder, clearly fidgety. Although she had packed loose, casual clothes in her bag, it only felt right to wear the outfit Dang Riah had bought for her when they met in person.
Befitting the styling of Dang Riah—the undisputed star of Chengdu University’s fashion design department—Rihwa’s ensemble naturally drew the eyes of nearly everyone in the terminal.
A soft pastel-pink blouse with puff sleeves paired with black high-waisted trousers. It was simple, elegant, and breathtakingly pretty. The billowing puff sleeves made her already petite face appear even smaller, while the high-waisted trousers accentuated her slender waist and the clean, shapely line of her legs. Petite though Rihwa was, her proportions were exquisite, making such a look work wonders.
"Babe, where are you looking?"
"Huh? Nowhere! I wasn't looking at anything."
"You were totally ogling that girl just now."
"Come on, even you've gotta admit she's adorable..."
"Are you seriously praising another woman right in front of my face? That completely killed my mood. I'm going home."
"What?! Babe, this is our honeymoon!"
Her damn supersonic hearing. The longer So Rihwa lived in this era, the more she realized that being a martial master came with nothing but downsides. Why on earth did she need a front-row seat to the domestic squabble of a couple she had never met before in her life? Worse yet, the fight was happening entirely because of her. It was awkward beyond belief.
"Next passenger, please step forward."
Following the airport screener's instructions, Rihwa walked through the security arch. She had already placed all her personal belongings and her carry-on suitcase onto the conveyor belt, so there shouldn't have been a single thing to trigger an alarm.
Beep—!
For some inexplicable reason, the metal detector let out a shrill scream. Flustered, Rihwa glanced around in bewilderment. The airport staff member, apparently charmed by how wide-eyed and startled she looked, walked over with a warm, reassuring smile.
"Don't worry too much. This machine can be overly sensitive and acts up from time to time."
"Ah... okay."
"Could you step back out and walk through one more time?"
"Sure."
Beep—!
Even after stepping back and walking through again as the polite screener asked, the detector blared loudly once more. At that point, the agent tilted her head in confusion.
"Did you leave any items in your pockets?"
"No, nothing."
Rihwa patted down her pockets just to be sure, but she had already emptied everything onto the tray.
"Hmm. By any chance, do you have artificial joints, or perhaps a heart valve implant?"
"No, neither."
"Then I apologize, but we'll need to conduct a secondary screening. How much time do you have before departure?"
"About an hour, so I've got plenty of time."
"Ah, perfect. Please come this way."
Having never experienced anything like this before, Rihwa trembled nervously like a frightened kitten, but the screening agent offered another calming smile.
"It won't be a big deal. It's not like you brought a bomb or anything, right?"
"Ah, haha... of course not..."
"Haha, just a little joke."
The agent escorted Rihwa to the secondary inspection area, where a female police officer in uniform stood waiting.
"A secondary check?"
"Yes. The passenger doesn't have any metallic items on her, but she keeps setting off the gate."
"Ah, understood."
The policewoman also broke into a gentle smile the moment she saw Rihwa cowering nervously. Between her striking features and cute outfit, Rihwa naturally disarmed everyone around her, even if she remained completely oblivious to her own charm.
"Please step inside."
"Okay."
The officer led Rihwa into a compact room containing nothing more than a lone desk and a chair. There wasn't even a standard security camera. It truly seemed to be a private room dedicated solely to secondary searches.
"We'll start with a manual pat-down. It's standard procedure, so please bear with me."
"Okay."
"Could you stretch your arms straight out to either side?"
"Yes."
Rihwa stretched out her arms. The officer smiled warmly once again as she looked her over.
"Your limbs are so long and slender. Clothes must look gorgeous on you. I'm envious."
"...Ah, thank you."
"Though honestly, with looks like yours, I feel like you'd look stunning in anything."
Not true, Rihwa thought. Back when she dressed in rags scavenged from the neighborhood clothing donation bins, people had suspected child neglect. But there was no reason to bring that up, so she simply offered an awkward, bashful chuckle.
"Alright, beginning the search."
"Okay."
The officer's hands began to glide over Rihwa's body. While it made sense for a woman to inspect another woman, the sensation still felt strange and foreign.
Then, completely without warning, a sound escaped Rihwa's lips—a squeak she had never heard from herself in either of her lifetimes.
"...Eep!"
"Oh! What's the matter?"
Startled, the officer took a step back. Rihwa averted her eyes in burning mortification.
"N-no, it's just... that tickled... I'm so sorry."
"It's completely fine. People who are ticklish react like that all the time."
Between the light, airy fabric of her blouse and the officer's gentle sweep, the brush against her upper ribs had struck a sudden nerve, coaxing out that ridiculous high-pitched yelp.
Ugh, kill me now. The humiliation...
The officer resumed the pat-down, and just as expected, found absolutely nothing on Rihwa's person.
"Hmm, that's strange. You really don't have anything on you."
"Right?"
"Just a moment, please. Let's be thorough just in case. Would you mind taking a seat and waiting here?"
"Sure."
Sitting alone in the cramped room after the officer stepped out, Rihwa felt as though she were being interrogated. Or wait... was she actually being interrogated right now?
Before long, the door opened and the officer returned. This time, however, she wasn't alone. Walking beside her was a massive dog—evidently a sniffer dog. Had she really fallen under suspicion of drug trafficking now?
"Don't worry, he doesn't bite. He's thoroughly trained."
The officer led the dog toward Rihwa. True to its rigorous training, the dog immediately began sniffing around her legs.
The wet, cool touch of the dog's nose against her shins sent another ticklish ripple through her skin. If she hadn't let out that squeal earlier, she definitely would have now. Nearly eight years after reincarnating into this world, she had finally made a startling discovery: this body was exceedingly ticklish.
Naturally, Rihwa had no illegal substances on her, so she remained relaxed. But all of a sudden, the dog began acting bizarrely. After taking a few deep sniffs, it abruptly rolled onto its back, panting happily with its belly exposed to the ceiling. Its tail was spinning like a helicopter propeller; there was simply no way she could resist petting it.
Bending down, Rihwa gently rubbed the dog's soft tummy. The comforting warmth radiating from its belly seemed to seep pleasantly through her entire frame.
Click.
In that very same instant, a cold ring of steel snapped shut around her wrist.
Before Rihwa could even register what was happening, the officer had locked a pair of handcuffs onto the hand that had been stroking the dog. Blankly, Rihwa lifted her head to look at her. The warmth in the officer's eyes had vanished without a trace, replaced by an icy, razor-sharp glare.
"...?"
"Excuse me?!"
Rihwa gasped in utter disbelief, but the officer was already speaking urgently into her radio.
"Suspect apprehended in the secondary screening room as an active offender. Subject is a martial artist, high flight risk. Requesting immediate backup."
"Wait, what...?"
"Put out your other hand."
Rihwa hesitated for a split second, but remembering the warning about aggravated penalties for non-cooperation, she offered her other wrist. Honestly, breaking free of steel handcuffs like these would be as effortless as tearing paper, but doing that would instantly send her down the road of a true wanted criminal.
"Good."
Only after both of Rihwa's hands were securely cuffed did the officer exhale a long breath and wipe the sheen of sweat from her brow. Knowing she was dealing with a trained martial artist had clearly ratcheted her nerves to the breaking point.
To think I'd get arrested by the police and put in handcuffs in this lifetime...
Was this what they meant by travel being a "novel experience"? The experience was so wildly novel it made her head spin.
Following the officer out of the screening room, Rihwa was greeted by a squad of officers clad in tactical vests and wielding extendable batons, already deployed in formation outside the door.
"...Does this mean I can't board my flight?"
"You're asking the obvious. You are under arrest."
Rihwa's shoulders slumped. She hadn't asked for this kind of novel experience. A wave of melancholy washed over her.
"What exactly is this Article 3, Clause 5 of the Special Internal Energy Control Act? Is it because of the ankle monitor? But I'm exempt from wearing one..."
This world did possess its share of practical flexibility. By default, anyone possessing internal energy above a certain threshold was legally required to wear an Inner Qi Restraint Ankle Monitor, but exceptions existed.
First were those whose martial arts were directly tied to their profession: bodyguards, rebar workers, blacksmiths, soldiers, and the like.
The second category covered medical exemptions—which was precisely Rihwa's situation. An Inner Qi Restraint Ankle Monitor was, by definition, a mechanism designed to suppress internal energy. However, if internal energy were suppressed in Rihwa's current body, the freezing yin cold of the Nine Yin Severed Meridians would consume her all the more rapidly.
Whenever internal energy was directly vital to an individual's survival, they were granted an exemption from wearing the monitor.
Rihwa had obtained a medical opinion from a licensed physician and formally submitted it to the Public Security Department, officially clearing her from the requirement to wear an inner energy ankle monitor.
"Article 3, Clause 5 is the advance declaration requirement for internal energy possessors," the officer replied crisply. "When boarding public transit such as commercial aircraft, you are legally required to file a declaration in advance and ingest an energy-dispersing poison. Otherwise, a martial artist could easily hijack the plane or carry out an act of terror."
Wait, a regulation like that actually existed?!
Having never had any reason to board an airplane in her life, she had no clue such a law was on the books. Had she known, she would have visited a hospital well in advance to get a prescription for energy-dispersing poison along with much stronger painkillers.
"...I honestly didn't know."
"Save that explanation for the interrogation."
Rihwa's voice shrank to a tiny, ant-like murmur, but the officer remained cold and unyielding.
Being a martial master in this day and age truly had zero perks. She hadn't done anything wrong, yet here she was, treated like an impending terrorist.
Having seen the news about radical Murim fundamentalists staging terrorist attacks recently, she could understand where the authorities were coming from, but that didn't stop it from stinging.
"Could you at least let me make a phone call, please?"
"To whom? Your attorney?"
"No. To the friend who bought me the plane ticket. I need to let her know I won't be able to make it."
Still, what could she do? When in Rome, do as the Romans do. If that was the law of the Central Plains, she had no choice but to comply.
The officer retrieved Rihwa's smartphone from her luggage and handed it over. Even with her wrists bound in cuffs, operating a phone was manageable. Scrolling through her contacts, Rihwa dialed Dang Riah's number.
Fortunately, Dang Riah picked up almost immediately.
"Yeah, Rihwa. What's up?"
"Ah. Well... I'm really sorry, but..."
"Yeah?"
"I don't think I can make it today."
"Why?"
Rihwa wondered for a second whether she should tell the truth. But unable to think of a suitable excuse, she decided to just be honest.
"Uh... I kind of got arrested."
"Huuuh?!"
Dang Riah's pitch spiked dramatically. Then again, if a friend called to say she had just been arrested at an airport, Rihwa would have had the exact same reaction.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
Rihwa briefly explained her predicament—that she had been taken into custody for carrying internal energy without prior declaration.
"Ah. So that's what happened."
"Yeah... so I don't think I can come."
Hearing the sudden drop in Dang Riah's energy made Rihwa feel deeply apologetic. Riah had gone out of her way to buy the plane ticket just because she wanted to see her, only for Rihwa to miss the flight due to her own carelessness.
"You're not affiliated with the Murim Alliance, are you?"
"...Of course not."
These days, the Murim Alliance was practically synonymous with a terrorist syndicate. Naturally, Rihwa had never had the slightest contact with that sort of crowd. Dang Riah didn't seem to have asked seriously either, as a thread of amusement laced her voice.
"There's a cop right next to you, right? Put them on the line for a second."
Flick. Flick.
Wondering what that metallic clicking was, Rihwa soon heard the deep hiss of an intake of breath—the unmistakable sound of a lighter igniting. Dang Riah smoked? Since she had never touched a single cigarette whenever she was around Rihwa, she had been completely unaware.
Still, asking to speak with the police officer? It wasn't as if she were an attorney. Wondering if she had misheard, Rihwa asked again.
"You want me to hand the phone to the police?"
"Yeah."
Dang Riah answered as she exhaled a plume of smoke. In her mind's eye, Rihwa could practically picture Dang Riah's chic, city-girl visage, legs crossed as she leisurely dragged on a cigarette.
"I've got something to say to them."
Dang Riah's voice had settled into a cool, unflinching calm.