For a thousand Autumns: chapter 3

 

Chapter 3

Cheonma walked slowly, his pace as leisurely as if he were out for a stroll.

His impeccably tailored robe, at first glance, appeared to be a deep black. However, whenever it caught the sunlight, it gave off a subtle shimmer, revealing it to be "Eunranggeum", a silk brocade woven with fine silver thread. A jade pendant hung from his belt, chiming pleasantly with each step he took. His fine leather boots, also black like his robe and seemingly made from buffalo hide, were far too lavish for the poorly-trodden mountain path.

Seok Munpyeong followed three paces behind Cheonma. Unlike Cheonma, who was flawlessly attired from head to toe, Munpyeong was a shabby sight. His hair was tied back haphazardly, and his unironed clothes were a mess of wrinkles.

`Well, isn't this a picture,` Munpyeong thought. `The young master and his servant.`

A man walking empty-handed in the lead, another man following a few steps behind with a bundle in his hands. Even from a distance, the image was clear: a wealthy young master on a scenic tour with his attendant. They could be seen as nothing else.

The bundle in Munpyeong’s hands contained items given to him by Abbess Myo-won.

“Your qi is greatly depleted, and your body is in poor condition. On top of that, you’re on the move again without sufficient rest. It would be best for you to take some medicinal herbs.”

With those words, Abbess Myo-won had carefully selected herbs that replenished qi from her garden behind the vegetable patch and wrapped them skillfully in a bundle.

“I rarely go outside, so I don’t even have a proper traveling pouch. Will this bundle be alright?”

Munpyeong couldn't bring himself to refuse the gift from the woman who smiled so sheepishly. He accepted the bundle she offered and held it preciously.

He had only stayed at her hermitage for two days, but that was more than enough time to understand a person’s true heart.

Initially, Cheonma’s presence had made him paranoid, leading him to harbor absurd suspicions about her. But it didn't take long for Munpyeong to realize she was not the kind of person he had imagined. Surprisingly, she was a rare individual whose inner self matched her outward appearance—a gentle and serene nun, exactly as she seemed.

`I never would have guessed she was the Abbess Myo-won. To think the former greatest female martial artist in the Orthodox world was living in seclusion in the Kunlun Mountains.`

He had never heard such a story, not even from his gossip-loving colleagues. He had heard that she, the greatest martial artist of the Emei Sect and the elder sister of the current Emei Sect Leader, had gone into seclusion some years ago and refused to meet outsiders.

But for what reason was she living as a hermit in this remote place, so far from her own sect? Unaware of the circumstances, Munpyeong could not know. What he understood even less, however, was why such a person would associate with someone like Cheonma.

The Sword Empress, Abbess Myo-won, was one of the most respected masters in the Orthodox Faction. Of course, he’d heard rumors that as great masters of the Jianghu grew older, the lines between the Orthodox and Unorthodox factions blurred, and they would interact without concern for such distinctions. But he had never dreamed such a relationship would exist between Cheonma and the Sword Empress. Their connection was nothing short of astonishing to him.

Abbess Myo-won was the first kind and gentle elder Munpyeong had ever met. Though she appeared young, she was well past seventy. She took care of him as attentively as if she were his own grandmother.

Having never received such treatment in his life, Munpyeong felt both embarrassed and secretly pleased. The care of an elder who asked for nothing in return, who was simply kind, felt different from the camaraderie he shared with close friends and colleagues.

If only Cheonma hadn't been there, snickering at them and asking if they were playing house, he might have been able to spend more time with her in peace.

For that, Munpyeong resented Cheonma. Though the man looked thirty years younger than Abbess Myo-won, he was in fact nearly ten years her senior, yet their characters and conduct were worlds apart.

`She is such a proper adult. Why is he like that? Where did all his years go?`

He had secretly wanted to stay in the Valley of a Hundred Flowers a little longer, but Cheonma’s incessant nagging forced him to leave earlier than he’d hoped. Munpyeong couldn’t suppress his disappointment and glared at the back of the man walking ahead.

Cheonma was a useless human being in every way imaginable. He would visit a patient who needed rest only to bother him and get chased out by Abbess Myo-won. When Munpyeong tried to help the ever-diligent Myo-won with her chores, Cheonma would taunt them with ridiculous provocations, saying things like, “You two look so good together, a pair of cockroaches,” or, “Myo-won, you must be happy with such a young husband.”

He behaved just like a little boy who torments the girl he likes. Munpyeong suspected that, in their youth, there must have been some secret romance between Cheonma and the Sword Empress.

“At this rate, we won’t even reach a village before nightfall.”

Cheonma, who had been walking at a leisurely pace, suddenly stopped.

`Oh, you're just realizing that now?` Munpyeong grumbled inwardly, halting in his tracks as Cheonma uttered something so obvious.

The man had been walking so casually, as if he were on a simple outing, that Munpyeong had assumed they would be camping outdoors for the night. After all, they had been moving at this pace since leaving the valley, and half a day later, they hadn’t even left the Kunlun Mountains.

The terrain was still rugged and treacherous. It seemed unlikely that even slash-and-burn farmers lived in this area.

“You. Your name is Munpyeong, was it?”

Cheonma, who had been gauging the time by looking up at the sky, turned to face him. Munpyeong hastily dropped to his knees to answer his Lord’s question.

“Yes, My Lord.”

Munpyeong’s reply was exceptionally polite, belying the man who had been secretly grumbling just moments before. But this was a natural reaction. He was not foolish enough to let his inner dissatisfaction show, no matter how great it was.

The weak have their own methods of survival. If he were to act on his anger without thinking, his innocent life would be swept away along with his temper.

“Seeing as you caught up to me all the way to the Valley of a Hundred Flowers, your movement technique must be quite formidable. I’ve heard the name of the Black Night Assassins a few times, but I didn’t realize their Green Water, No Shadow was so potent.”

`Hardly. It's nothing special. What's so great about a skill that requires me to run myself ragged just to chase your shadow?`

While his mind thought one thing, his mouth moved on its own. Dealing with Cheonma always made his mind and mouth work separately. At this rate, he felt he might master the Wudang Sect’s art of dividing one's mind in two all by himself.

“As I understand it, My Lord, the merit of Green Water, No Shadow lies not in its speed but its endurance. Its only advantage is being able to cover a long distance that others have traversed quickly. It cannot be considered all that useful.”

“It is the tortoise that beats the hare in the end. You are surprisingly modest.”

“You flatter me, My Lord.”

“I do not speak idly. It is a fine martial art. In the ten-odd years I’ve been visiting the valley, you are the first person to have caught up to me. With that level of lightness skill, you should be able to keep up even if I pick up the pace. From now on, I will run properly. Do not fall behind.”

“Yes, I understand, My Lord. I will run all the way to the next village.”

“No. Not the next village, the next city. Myo-won’s cooking is too bland; I’ve grown tired of it. I need to eat some proper food today.”

“Pardon?”

`The next city? Where is the next city?`

Flustered by Cheonma's vague command, Seok Munpyeong let out an unwitting, dazed sound. Hearing Munpyeong's question, Cheonma spoke as if it were nothing.

“We’re going straight to Ruoqiang. We will dine there tonight.”

Seok Munpyeong’s eyes widened at Cheonma, who always dropped thunderbolts without warning.

`Wait a minute, My Lord? Ruoqiang County? That's not even in Qinghai, it's in Xinjiang! That must be over a thousand li from here!`

“See you at dinner, then.”

While Seok Munpyeong stood stunned, having been lulled into a false sense of security by the leisurely pace only to be struck by a bolt from the blue, Cheonma shot forward.

It was a flawless "Gungshin-tanyeong", the Bow-Body Ejection technique, executed as perfectly as a textbook example—his body bending like a taut bow before launching forward like an arrow.

Cheonma’s movements were so perfect and masterful that they offered much to learn for any martial artist, but for Seok Munpyeong, who now had to chase after him with his own humble technique, the sight was enough to make his stomach turn.

`I’m going to die of a stress ulcer!`

His insides burning from Cheonma’s relentless torment, Munpyeong felt his world collapse as he watched the man’s shadow shrink into the distance.

How could a person be so selfish! Perhaps because he had lived his entire life doing whatever he pleased, he had no sense of consideration for others.

But no matter how much he complained, he couldn’t just sit there. He couldn’t afford to linger. While it was unlikely he would lose track of Cheonma, who knew he was being followed, the thought of the man waiting for him up ahead was somehow even more terrifying.

Munpyeong untied his bundle, retied it securely around his waist, and began to run like a madman, channeling all his qi into his movement technique.

The nightmare he thought had ended two days ago was replaying itself, and once again, there was no time to rest.

Even with Green Water, No Shadow, which was said to be able to cover ten li with a single breath of qi, running a thousand li in half a day was no easy task. A thousand li was just a figure of speech; the only horse capable of covering that distance in a day was the legendary "Hanxue Ma", the sweat-blood horse of myth.

`I'm… going to die!`

Arriving after running for what felt like his life, Munpyeong screamed internally.

He now understood why the Hanxue Ma, said to run a thousand li in a day, was fabled to sweat blood. After running a thousand li in a single day, he felt as if blood was about to seep from his own pores. He doubted a horse would fare any differently.

`You and me both, horse. What did we do to deserve such a terrible master?`

Munpyeong swallowed a bitter tear, feeling a sense of kinship with the legendary horse he had never even seen.

When he finally arrived in Ruoqiang, he found the Demonic Cult's secret code written on the city wall. It was a simplified version of their cant, designed so that even those without specialized spy training could convey simple messages. It instructed him to go to the Luxury Inn on the city's most prosperous main street. It seemed Cheonma was already there.

`Luxury Inn? What a grand name.`

Munpyeong managed a pained smile at the unsophisticated name, which lacked any sense of refinement. He had intended to snort in derision, but he couldn't even manage that, as his abdominal muscles were too sore. Even the forced smile made his stomach ache. Muscle cramps were setting in.

`Ugh. My stomach hurts.`

Munpyeong began to walk stiffly, hunched forward like someone with a stomachache, one hand pressed against his abdomen. Passersby stared at his strange posture with curiosity, but he was too dazed to care.

He didn't care about food or anything else. All he wanted to do was sleep. He was so covered in dust from the run that even the thought of washing his face was exhausting.

Finding the inn Cheonma had mentioned was not difficult. There was only one street in Ruoqiang County that could be called a main road, and the Luxury Inn was a particularly conspicuous building.

True to its name, the Luxury Inn was indeed luxurious. It stood three stories tall, and its sign was large enough for a couple of people to lie on. Its ostentatiously glittering facade seemed to scream, "We are truly magnificent!"—a style that seemed to align with Cheonma's tastes.

Munpyeong headed toward the inn, still clutching his stomach. Finding Cheonma, a man with a very distinctive appearance, would not be a problem.

Just as Munpyeong was about to enter the inn, the door opened and a waiter came out. `Perfect timing,` Munpyeong thought, approaching him.

“Hey! What are you doing coming in the front door? Go around to the back.”

Munpyeong, who had been about to ask if a man matching Cheonma’s description was inside, was left speechless as the waiter looked him up and down with a scowl.

“No, I’m with someone inside. I’m looking for…”

“Stop with the nonsense and go around back. Are you trying to get me in trouble? Do you think this inn is some charity for beggars? Go to the back door. You might get some leftover rice. Now, get lost.”

**Cough.**

Munpyeong stared blankly at the waiter, who had cut him off without even letting him finish.

Being treated so matter-of-factly as a beggar made him feel as if he were somehow in the wrong. Of course, under normal circumstances, he would have grabbed the waiter by the collar and thrown him to the ground without a second thought. But utterly exhausted as he was, he lacked the energy for such a violent reaction.

Feeling awkward, Munpyeong took a look at himself. He was clutching his aching stomach, but he supposed it could also look like he was clutching a starving belly.

His plain cotton clothes were wrinkled and filthy with dust from his journey, his hair was a disheveled mess from the wind, and he had a bundle on his back. He certainly did look like a homeless wanderer.

“Waiter, my appearance may be poor right now, but I truly have a companion inside. Is there a gentleman in a black robe here?”

“You’re really persistent. Are there only one or two people in the world who wear black robes? You’re disturbing business, so get lost. You won’t go? If you keep this up, you won’t even get stale rice.”

The waiter splashed a bucket of dirty water at Munpyeong’s feet and turned away without a second glance. `If only I had brought my sword,` Munpyeong thought, regretting leaving it at his quarters. If he had looked like a martial artist, the waiter wouldn't have dared to treat him this way.

He sighed and tried to enter the inn, but the waiter, who was just heading back inside, blocked his path.

`Kid. Let’s not overdo it, shall we?`

Munpyeong looked down at the waiter, whose judgment seemed to be located in the soles of his feet, with a weary sigh.

“I told you, you can’t… stop…”

“My master is inside. It is not wise to keep blocking my way. I may be fine with this, but my master is a very fearsome person. You could be the one who ends up in trouble, so I suggest you stop blocking me.”

Munpyeong smiled weakly and took hold of the handle of the water bucket the waiter was holding. The handle, made of oak, had been reinforced with hard iron for durability. Munpyeong squeezed it gently, then let go.

The waiter, who had been about to snap, “What do you think you’re doing?” froze when he saw the clear imprint of a hand left on the handle.

`Gasp. A martial artist?`

The waiter, who had assumed from Munpyeong’s wretched appearance and weary face that he was a wandering beggar, was startled to realize he had been sticking his head in a tiger’s mouth.

“I-I failed to recognize a great warrior and have been rude. Please, I beg your forgiveness.”

The waiter’s complexion changed in an instant. It wasn’t just his face that changed. His once-stiff back bent at a ninety-degree angle as he bowed and scraped, practically prostrating himself in apology.

To call him a "great warrior" right off the bat, without even checking, in the heart of Xinjiang, the Demonic Cult's territory—that choice of words alone showed how flustered the waiter was. Munpyeong waved a hand in annoyance.

“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Just answer the question I asked before. Is there a gentleman inside, exceptionally handsome and dressed in a black robe? A, ahem, a young master?”

“There are quite a few gentlemen in black robes, so I’m not sure exactly who you mean.”

The waiter asked cautiously, extremely mindful of his earlier mistake. Munpyeong had no choice but to give a more detailed description of Cheonma.

“He’s well-built and very tall, wearing a black robe made of Eunranggeum. And he’s incredibly handsome. So handsome that words like Pan An or Song Yu come to mind.”

As he spoke, he realized he was describing a peerless beauty rarely seen in the mortal world. While it wasn't an inaccurate description of his appearance, Munpyeong felt a knot of resentment in his stomach. The fact that the waiter recognized him immediately only made it worse.

“Ah, you mean the gentleman who looks like he could fill a carriage with fruit just by riding in a chariot? Yes, sir! He is currently at our inn.”

The waiter, uncharacteristically using a literary phrase, tried to show off his knowledge. It was likely an attempt to curry favor with Munpyeong, but hearing the phrase "Cheokgwa-yeongcha" only made Munpyeong feel more disgruntled.

"Cheokgwa-yeongcha", or "to fill a carriage with thrown fruit," came from a story about Pan An, a famous handsome man from the Western Jin Dynasty. His beauty was said to be so extraordinary that women would follow him in a daze whenever he walked through the city, forcing him to always travel by carriage.

Even then, the women couldn't forget him, and whenever his carriage passed, they would throw fruit into it to express their affection. This was the origin of the saying.

Once, Choi Wi-myeong had joked, alluding to this old story, that he too could gather three carriages full of fruit if he rode in one. The difference between then and now was that Choi Wi-myeong had been joking, while the waiter was more than half-serious.

“Could you lead the way?”

Although he felt worse now than when the waiter had first ignored him, Munpyeong had no intention of taking his anger out on an ignorant man. He simply motioned for the waiter to lead on without any reaction.

The waiter, stealing nervous glances at Munpyeong to gauge his mood, quickly opened the door and welcomed him inside.

As the waiter led him in, other waiters and patrons glanced their way. One waiter even shot the guide a look that seemed to say, "Are you out of your mind?"

`Am I really in that bad of a state?`

Munpyeong, who hadn’t been fully aware of his own condition, became conscious of it under the gazes of the others, who looked at him as if he were something they shouldn’t be seeing.

Though he belatedly tried to dust himself off and retie his hair as he walked, the hostile stares didn’t change much.

The place where Cheonma was said to be was on the third floor of the inn, at a window seat with the best view.

A simple table of appetizers and drinks was set before Cheonma, who had already arrived and was drinking.

“My apologies. I have just arrived, My Lord.”

As soon as Munpyeong spotted him, he knelt and bowed his head. Cheonma, who had been drinking with picturesque grace, turned his head slightly to look at him.

“You’re not as late as I thought.”

Cheonma said, setting down the cup in his hand. `If you had any thoughts at all, you wouldn't treat people this way,` Munpyeong thought rebelliously, but kept his head bowed. With Cheonma himself waiting for him, there was no way a subordinate like him could dawdle.

Munpyeong had run as if his life depended on it, but he couldn't show it, so he just feigned composure.

“Sit.”

Cheonma refilled his cup. **Screeeak**. The sound of a chair scraping against the floor was heard as the one opposite Cheonma slid back.

It was "Gyeokgong-seopmul", plucking an object from afar, performed without even a twitch of his hand.

As a martial artist, Munpyeong knew just how incredible a feat this was. Every time he witnessed Cheonma’s power, he was reminded of what a monstrous martial artist he was.

Munpyeong glanced around cautiously, hoping no one had seen, and sat in the seat offered to him.

As he sat, a wine cup spun on its own and moved toward him. It glided smoothly, like a spinning top, arriving before him filled to the brim, yet not a single drop had spilled during its rotation. What’s more, it stopped perfectly before he could even touch it, a feat of exquisite qi control that, frankly, he couldn’t help but admire.

The cup contained Xifengjiu, a famous liquor from Shaanxi. It was a superb wine, said to be “as clear as crystal, with a fragrance like a hidden orchid.” The impoverished Munpyeong had only tasted it once in his life, five years ago when his senior, Ak-hyung, had a son. He had never even seen it since.

**Gulp.** Munpyeong swallowed the saliva that pooled in his mouth and stole a glance at Cheonma.

`Offering it to me like this… he must mean for me to drink it, right?`

Logically, it was hard to imagine any other intention in this situation, but he didn't let his guard down.

“Have a drink.”

As if on cue, Cheonma gave his permission as Munpyeong hesitated, eyeing him with even more caution than the waiter had shown earlier.

“Thank you, My Lord.”

Munpyeong quickly bowed his head in thanks and took the cup.

He took a small sip. The smooth taste was impressive, and as he swallowed, a subtle orchid fragrance spread through his mouth, as if to prove the rumors true.

`Ah, this is good.` Munpyeong savored the wine, pleased with this unexpected luxury. Though he disliked many things about Cheonma, his taste in alcohol was certainly one thing he could appreciate. Like Cheonma, he too preferred strong, fragrant liquors.

“Have you had dinner?”

“Not yet, My Lord.”

He hadn't even had lunch, let alone dinner. It was impossible to keep regular mealtimes when traveling a thousand li in half a day.

As soon as he finished speaking, his stomach let out a loud growl, as if reminding him to ask for food now that the topic was raised. Cheonma let out a small laugh. Munpyeong cursed his tactless stomach and lowered his head.

Unexpectedly, Cheonma didn’t tease him about it. Instead, he was kind enough to order dinner for him.

Not long after Cheonma placed the order, a lavish spread was served. The table was so densely packed with high-end dishes, most of which Munpyeong didn’t even know the names of, that the wood grain of the tabletop was no longer visible. All of them were fragrant and rich-looking dishes, which Munpyeong suspected were Cheonma’s personal favorites.

`What in the world is going on?` Munpyeong looked down at the food, bewildered. He picked up his chopsticks at the prodding to eat, but he felt a subtle unease. `When someone acts out of character, it's said they're about to die. Surely that can't be true for Cheonma… so what kind of trick is he planning to pull? Did he poison the food?`

Though he couldn’t shake his worries, the food, fortunately or unfortunately, was delicious. The chef's skill was exceptional, and the ingredients and spices were used generously, making the flavors deep and rich.

He was tired and hungry, so his initially slow chopsticks gradually picked up speed. He couldn’t eat ravenously, conscious of Cheonma's gaze, but he ate as fast as he could without being obvious.

`What is this all about? It’s not like he’s going to eat me… but why does this feel like the day you fatten up a pig for slaughter?`

Munpyeong paused mid-bite, pondering Cheonma’s intentions.

The analogy he had just stumbled upon felt oddly meaningful. While he wasn't a pig, he was certainly in a position where he could be "devoured," making the comparison feel eerily appropriate.

`Don't tell me… he's planning to fatten me up and then pounce on me? Is all this food my payment as a prostitute?`

His appetite vanished. The meat that had been greasy and delicious moments ago now felt like tough leather in his mouth. Goosebumps rose on his forearms.

`Damn it. Am I going to lose my chastity tonight?`

Although he had been mentally preparing for this, knowing there was likely no way out, he couldn’t help but feel miserable now that the moment seemed to be upon him.

Perhaps Cheonma had planned this whole day with that in mind. Rushing him out of the Valley of a Hundred Flowers where Abbess Myo-won stood guard, forcing him to cover an absurd distance to exhaust him.

What did it all mean? When he arranged the events with Cheonma’s intentions in mind, everything fit perfectly.

He would be lucky if his guess was too far-fetched, but given how things were going, such luck seemed unlikely. Munpyeong wanted to cry.

`It's nothing, Seok Munpyeong. Just once. Just close your eyes and it'll be over. Just pretend you're dead and endure it once. It's not like you'll actually die, right? Even that bandit leader made it out alive, didn't he?`

Munpyeong squeezed his eyes shut and tried to console himself. `Yes. Just once. It's only once.` Rather than constantly being on the run, trying to avoid it, it was better to just get it over with and fall out of his interest.

He wasn't a peerless beauty like Cheonma, nor did he possess any special skills to seduce men. He was unremarkable, and he knew it well. Cheonma wasn't doing this because he found him pretty or cute. It was likely just because a man who roughly fit his tastes was lingering nearby, and he thought he'd toy with him for a bit.

As a man himself, Munpyeong understood that psychology. Homosexual or not, men were creatures of that sort. There was a saying in brothels that men always favored someone new. Given Cheonma’s fickle nature, he was likely more so than others, not less.

`Of course. He's Cheonma. There's nothing in the world he can't have if he wants it. Why would a man like that obsess over someone as ordinary as me? I just caught his eye, so he'll play with me for a while and then toss me aside when he loses interest.`

His head thought this, but his heart wouldn't accept it. No matter how hard he tried to brainwash himself, the feeling of repulsion remained.

With his body being his only asset, Munpyeong cherished it dearly. And now, Cheonma was about to trample all over it with muddy feet.

To be treated like a toy simply because someone found you interesting—it was only natural to feel a sense of rebellion as a human being with a will of his own.

“Here, here. Please have a seat, honored guests. This is the best spot in our establishment.”

Suddenly, a commotion came from the stairs. Just as he was deep in his tormented conflict between reason and emotion, why did it have to get so noisy?

Munpyeong shot an irritated glance in the direction of the noise. It wasn't as if his brooding would lead to any conclusion, but he was annoyed at having his thoughts interrupted.

The group that appeared with such a fuss was clearly composed of children from wealthy families. The person guiding them was the same waiter who had guided Munpyeong. Coincidentally, he was leading them to the window seat right next to the one where Cheonma and Munpyeong were seated.

As the group drew closer, he could feel their blatant stares. Not at Munpyeong, of course. The wealthy party, following the waiter, caught sight of Cheonma sitting picturesquely and sipping his wine, and their eyes widened.

The women’s gazes were glued to him, and even the men let out low murmurs of astonishment. They had enough decorum not to stop and stare, but their gazes were so overt they could be considered rude.

Cheonma showed no reaction to the stares that would have made Munpyeong feel self-conscious. But then again, he was a man who never cared about others’ opinions, so it was unlikely he would be bothered by the gazes of a few youngsters.

The group, their attention stolen by Cheonma, awkwardly made their way to their seats. They sat down without even paying attention to where they were sitting, stealing glances at him. The scene reminded him of the term "kui-song"—the story of a maiden who stared over a wall for three years just to catch a glimpse of her handsome neighbor, Song Yu. Her expression must have been just like theirs.

He could understand the women, but he had no idea why the men were acting that way. Were they all homosexuals too?

“It’s late, let’s have dinner. This place may be small, but the food is quite good. You must all be hungry after missing your mealtime, so let’s order quickly.”

A man’s voice broke the awkward silence that had fallen over the group, who seemed intimidated by Cheonma’s overwhelming presence. The man, who appeared to be the leader of the group, was trying to lighten the mood and draw their attention.

His words seemed to snap the others back to reality, and they blushed, belatedly realizing how foolishly they had been acting.

Having lost their composure after encountering a man of such rare beauty in this remote backwater, they hastily remembered their abandoned pride and dignity and put them back on.

“Yes, let’s order dinner. I’m really hungry,” a young girl, the youngest of the group, said in a charming voice. Her long, dark hair was braided into two pigtails, and her round face still had a touch of baby fat. Her eyes were large like peach pits, giving her a very cute impression. It was clear from her behavior that she was well aware of this fact.

“Lady Eom must be hungry, so we must certainly provide dinner. Hey, waiter! Come over here. We wish to order,” another young man chimed in eagerly. His high-pitched voice was clearly not his normal tone and sounded overly theatrical.

Watching them, Munpyeong couldn't help but let out a dry laugh. Like the girl who had spoken second, this young man was also acutely aware of Cheonma.

`Give it up, kids. Do you have any idea who you're dealing with? Go home quietly after your meal before you end up crying tears of blood.`

Munpyeong felt a foreboding premonition that something terrible was about to happen, and he prayed his feeling wouldn’t come true.

There was nothing more dangerous in the Jianghu than encountering an unknown opponent, yet these clueless youngsters were intrigued by Cheonma based on his appearance alone. The women looked desperate to strike up a conversation, while the men, though thoroughly intimidated by his aura—so magnificent it didn't even evoke jealousy—were putting on a brave front.

The only fortunate thing was that Cheonma’s presence was so imposing that the youngsters didn’t dare to speak to him. If he had seemed even slightly more approachable, they would have undoubtedly walked right up to him, completely unaware that they were walking into a tiger’s den.

“Oh my, there’s so much sand and dust here. Even with a wind-proof cloak, it gets everywhere. How do people who live here endure this wind?” a woman who looked like the little girl’s older sister complained prettily, dusting off her collar. Munpyeong glanced over and saw that there was indeed dust on her clothes. But even if this weren't Xinjiang, with its notoriously strong, dusty winds, her clothes were bound to get dirty.

`You’re wearing a snow-white dress and you expect not to get dusty? And you're traveling in that outfit?`

“Hahaha, Xinjiang is a uniquely harsh land. How can it compare to the land of Jiangxi, where both water and people are abundant? I, too, suffered greatly from this dreadful yellow wind when I first came here. No matter how tightly I wrapped myself, a handful of sand would pour out when I undressed in the evening. Even for a man like myself, it was unbearable without bathing daily. I can only imagine how difficult it must be for a lady like yourself.”

“Oh my. Hearing you say that makes me long for a bath as well.”

“Of course. I will have it prepared for you in advance, so you may bathe and rest comfortably after your meal. I, Shin, will arrange everything.”

The man seized the opportunity to score points off the woman’s muttered comment. Seeing this, the little sister giggled and teased her older sister. It was the kind of behavior you'd expect from a spoiled child, but she was so endearing that even her teasing didn't seem malicious.

“You’re so lucky, sister. Young Master Shin is so devoted to you. Are you really going to become the mistress of the Ximen Escort Agency?”

“You… such impertinence.”

“What’s wrong, sister? The whole world knows there are marriage talks between the Zhengjian Sect and the Ximen Escort Agency.”

“Hyang-mae, you too?”

They laughed and chatted warmly. Even as they spoke, they kept stealing glances at Cheonma, clearly not fully focused on their conversation, but they were trying their best to appear as if they were.

`Ximen Escort Agency.`

Munpyeong’s eyes lit up as he recognized the name of the escort agency mentioned in their conversation. The Ximen Escort Agency he knew of was one of the three major escort agencies in the Central Plains, a massive power with branches not only throughout the Central Plains but also in Xinjiang.

The Zhengjian Sect, which was in marriage talks with them, was also a well-known sect beyond its own province. It was the largest Orthodox sect in Jiangxi province, which lacked any traditional major sects, and effectively ruled the region.

`The young master of the Ximen Escort Agency and the daughters of the Zhengjian Sect's leader. Their backgrounds are stronger than I expected.`

Of course, they were no match for Cheonma, but if any trouble were to arise, their backgrounds could certainly become a nuisance. Munpyeong stole a glance at Cheonma’s expression. The way they were loudly proclaiming their affiliations was a clear attempt to get his attention. It was likely just out of a desire to strike up a conversation, but to Munpyeong, it was an incredibly reckless provocation.

He was Cheonma, as unpredictable as a bouncing ball. He was the kind of being who could slaughter them all simply because he found the sound of their voices annoying. Knowing this all too well, Munpyeong prayed they wouldn’t provoke him any further—not just for their sake, but for his own as well.

Fortunately, Cheonma was still ignoring them. He was pouring himself Xifengjiu with an elegant grace, as if he couldn’t hear a thing. His gaze, looking out at the street where lights were beginning to flicker on as dusk fell, was deep and profound.

To an unknowing observer, he might have looked lost in melancholy. His appearance was so convincing that even Munpyeong, who knew his true nature, found his gaze lingering for a moment.

“I heard you met the great warrior, the Jade Qilin, on your way here?” a man in a blue robe, wearing a handsome hero's circlet adorned with jade, joined the conversation. He was the most handsome man in the group, and perhaps because of that, his attire was particularly elaborate. He wore rings on his fingers, a jade pendant at his waist, and even the scabbard on his back was a magnificent, jeweled one. It was clear how much he cared about his appearance.

“Yes. We met by chance on the main road and traveled together to Hubei.”

“My goodness. So the rumors about Lady Baek being gravely ill were true. For the great Jade Qilin, who rarely leaves Fujian province, to travel north…”

“It seems so. When I met him before, he was so bright and laughed a lot, but this time his complexion was dark and he was very quiet. If time had not been so pressing, I would have followed him to Xiangyang to see the old lady. It’s a pity I couldn’t. The entire Jianghu is indebted to Lady Baek. I still regret that I did not go as a junior should have.”

The elder Miss Eom said in a concerned tone. Her somber demeanor made the blue-robed young man, who had brought it up lightly, look awkward. He had likely brought it up merely to show off that he knew people like the Jade Qilin, but when she took it seriously, he found it difficult to respond.

“Indeed. The entire Jianghu owes her a great debt.”

The young man in blue, whose face was more handsome than his wit was quick, mumbled in agreement.

“That’s right. If the Sword Hero and Lady Baek had not stood against Cheonma at Mount Longzhong back then, would the Orthodox Faction even exist in its current state today? The world would be groaning under the foot of the Demonic Cult, and righteous young people would be endlessly shedding their blood to fight back. The fact that we can sit here peacefully and converse today is all thanks to them.”

A large-framed young man, who seemed quicker on the uptake than the one in blue—or perhaps just enjoyed such topics—chimed in.

He had the build of a bear and a straightforward face, looking like he could pack a punch. But the words coming out of his mouth were as foolish as his appearance, and Munpyeong’s heart sank as he overheard them.

`Those… those… those crazy fools!`

Munpyeong felt his heart freeze at the antics of these youngsters, who were not only playing in front of a tiger but were now trying to pluck its whiskers. He looked at Cheonma with frightened eyes. But Cheonma still wore a completely detached expression. It was impossible that he hadn’t heard them chattering right next to him, and his lack of reaction was, in a way, even more terrifying.

`If you want to die, die alone. What are you all doing? Do they really not know where they are? This is Xinjiang! The land where the Demonic Cult is master and Cheonma is emperor!`

The other patrons on the third floor seemed to think so too, as they kept glancing at the group. If their voices had been quiet, it might have been different, but they were so loud that their conversation was audible throughout the entire floor, even without trying to eavesdrop.

“Still, this is Xinjiang. Talking about such things here is a bit…” the young man in blue, who might have lacked wit but at least had some sense, muttered uncomfortably. Hearing this, the foolish bear glared at him with wide eyes.

“What does it matter that this is Xinjiang? Are you saying we shouldn't speak of such things because a Demonic Cult member might hear?”

“No, that’s not it. I just meant we should lower our voices…”

“That’s exactly what you meant! Are you saying a man of the Orthodox Faction should change his words depending on the place? I, Peng, was never taught to do such a thing. Even in front of Cheonma himself, one must say what needs to be said. Is that not what it means to be Orthodox? Is that not what it means to be a hero?”

The stubborn bear spoke with indignation, as if the young man in blue had committed a great injustice.

`My boy, you're already doing it.`

Munpyeong felt a throbbing headache as he watched the youngsters casually use Cheonma’s title as if they were calling out a neighborhood kid’s name.

“You know, there’s something I’ve always been curious about. When Lady Baek passes away, who will get the Qilin Plaque? Will the great Jade Qilin inherit it?”

A thoughtless voice cut through the middle of the atmosphere, which could have turned ugly at any moment. The girl with the pigtails blinked her large, innocent eyes and posed the question.

Her sister frowned at the incredibly brazen question. She shot her sister a disapproving look and scolded her in a low voice.

“Musang! What kind of way is that to speak?”

“Why, sister? I didn’t say anything bad. I just asked because I was curious.”

Even when her own sister scolded her with a stern expression, the girl remained unconcerned. She looked at her sister with a puzzled expression, as if she didn’t understand what she had done wrong.

“Just because you’re curious, you can talk so carelessly about an elder of the Jianghu passing away? And why are you curious about someone else’s property? What does it have to do with you who gets the Qilin Plaque?”

“It does have something to do with me. Why wouldn’t it? I’m a member of the Jianghu too! The future of the Jianghu will change depending on the choice of the token’s owner. Do you think I don’t know that everyone is curious, even if they keep it quiet? I just said it out loud. Is that so wrong?”

Though she called herself a member of the Jianghu, to others, she was just a naive and cute child. Who would think of her as a dignified adult when she puffed out her cheeks in protest at her sister’s scolding?

`Ah, so that child is the Bluebird, Eom Musang.`

Munpyeong realized who she was from her brazenly fearless yet charming demeanor.

The Bluebird, Eom Musang, was the daughter whom the leader of the Zhengjian Sect doted on so much he claimed she was the apple of his eye. Along with her older sister, the Whitebird, Eom Miran, they were known as the Blue and White Twin Birds.

As could be seen from the fact that the younger sister’s name came first in their shared title, it was the younger sister who was more famous. Though she was still young, rumors were widespread that she would grow up to be a great beauty.

Seeing her in person, she was indeed a promising beauty. The problem was whether she would survive long enough to see that future. Frankly, Munpyeong had a rather negative view on the matter. She and her companions were setting off fireworks in front of the Jianghu’s most terrifying powder keg.

“Don’t be too harsh on her, Lady Eom. It seems the young lady just made a small mistake out of curiosity. If you scold her too severely, it will make us feel awkward,” the young master Shin subtly intervened, trying to mediate between the two. As they say, men are weak to beauty. Though his marriage talks were with the older sister, he took the younger sister’s side.

At his blatant defense, the older Miss Eom’s face hardened slightly. She was hurt that the man who was practically her fiancé was defending her sister instead of her.

A proud woman, she tried not to let her feelings show, but to Munpyeong, who was watching from the side, it was clearly visible.

“The Qilin Plaque will probably go to the great Jade Qilin, young Lady Eom. Who else would be worthy of possessing the token? As precious a treasure of the Jianghu as the Qilin Plaque is, no one is shameless enough to try to take it from the Sword Hero’s son.”

The bear, who had identified himself as Peng, said bluntly. Though he wasn’t direct, his words were a form of defense. He answered Eom Musang’s rude question without any anger, which made it clear that despite his outward indifference, he was interested in her.

“I wish I could see it just once. The Qilin Plaque. I hear it’s incredibly beautiful,” the woman in yellow, who was called Hyang-mae, said in a slightly dreamy tone. Her beauty was less than that of the Eom sisters, but her languid atmosphere was unique and captivating to men.

She was the one in their group who had been staring most overtly at Cheonma, and she hadn't averted her gaze yet. She spoke of wanting to see the Qilin Plaque, but her eyes were fixed on Cheonma.

Her gaze, which held a subtle smile, was certainly alluring, and her effort to emphasize the double meaning of her words by stressing "incredibly beautiful" was commendable. But unfortunately for her, while Cheonma was not a eunuch, he was a homosexual. He didn't even glance her way.

“I’m not interested in just looking at it. If I could, I’d want to have it,” Eom Musang said, once again making a bold and audacious statement. Eom Miran winced, but the others just laughed it off. Emboldened by the atmosphere, she opened her small lips and chattered on. She was a living example of how spoiling a child can ruin them.

“The Qilin Plaque is a treasure of the Jianghu because of Cheonma, right? Because he’s bound by an important pact related to that token, and he has to grant any wish of the person who holds it. It’s a token that can only be used three times, but there are still two chances left. It would be a waste to just let them go to ruin.”

If Munpyeong had the Qilin Plaque in his hands, he would have wished for one thing: for someone to please shut that girl's mouth.

“If I were the owner of the Qilin Plaque, you know, I’d tell Cheonma to kill himself. Wouldn’t that solve all the problems? If it works, we could root out the scourge of the Jianghu. And even if he refuses, we’d make him a man who doesn’t keep his own word. What could be more shameful for a great master of his generation like Cheonma?

If that happened, could Cheonma still show his face in the world? From the Orthodox Faction’s perspective, there’s nothing to lose. If I were the Sword Hero, I wouldn’t have made the Longzhong Pact; I would have wished for his suicide. I don’t know why no one has thought of this brilliant idea. Should I give the great Jade Qilin a hint?”

Snow on top of frost. A desperate situation. Trapped between a rock and a hard place. Surrounded by the songs of Chu… `Ah, what else is there?`

A flood of four-character idioms that could be interpreted as "it’s all over and you’re already dead" swirled in Munpyeong’s mind.

He had felt uneasy, and now this spoiled brat had finally brought disaster upon herself with her words. Not content with just a small spark, she had set the entire powder keg on fire.

Cheonma was still silent, but Munpyeong knew he had heard the girl’s outrageous words. His face was impassive, but he was no longer bringing the wine cup to his lips. His eyes glinted coldly, and a chilling smirk played on his lips.

“You, little brat.”

Cheonma set down his cup and called out to the little brat, Eom Musang, in a low voice. It wasn’t a loud remark, but as soon as he spoke, the surroundings fell silent. Even her noisy companions went quiet. Their immediate reaction was proof of just how much attention they had been paying to him.

`Well, you succeeded in one thing. You got his attention. But there's such a thing as negative attention, you know.`

They were just thoughtless, loose-lipped youngsters. Munpyeong clicked his tongue in pity for the trouble they were about to face. He didn't particularly like them, but he couldn't help but feel sympathy for their terrible luck in badmouthing Cheonma right to his face. He had never seen anyone so unlucky in his entire life.

“Yes?” Eom Musang replied instinctively, then blushed. She felt insulted, having responded so readily despite being called by the vulgar term "little brat."

Cheonma didn't turn to look at her. With his back still to her, he asked sardonically, “Do you know why the Sword Hero died?”

She hesitated. She couldn't understand the intention behind his question.

When the Jianghu had been thrown into chaos by the Demonic Cult’s ruthless invasion of the Central Plains, the Sword Hero had appeared. He had confronted Cheonma at Mount Longzhong to stop the cult’s advance into Hubei after they had conquered Hunan. In his hand was the Qilin Plaque, which could control Cheonma.

In fact, no one knew of the Qilin Plaque’s existence until he revealed it at Mount Longzhong. But somehow, the Sword Hero had obtained it and knew how to use it.

The righteous Sword Hero and his wife, Zhuge Hui-ryeon, used one of the three chances granted by the Qilin Plaque to meet Cheonma and asked him to stop the bloodshed. Cheonma, bound by the token’s pact for some unknown reason, had no choice but to grant their wish. But unable to contain his fury, he killed the Sword Hero, the owner of the token, before leaving.

The story of the Sword Hero’s death was so famous that the whole world knew it. Even a three-year-old child could tell you the tale, but the girl hesitated, unable to understand why he was asking if she knew.

“No, let me ask something else. Little brat, do you know what kind of object the Qilin Plaque is?” Cheonma asked again, his tone still cold. This time too, the girl couldn’t answer and just blinked her eyes. Though audacious, she was quick-witted enough to realize that the answer he wanted was different from what she knew. She also understood that he wasn’t asking because he wanted an answer from her.

What she couldn’t understand was why this man was treating her so rudely. Her face turned bright red with humiliation. Never in her life had she been treated this way, and she didn't even know what she had done wrong.

“The Qilin Plaque is not a token that grants wishes from Cheonma. It is merely a token that can summon him three times. Its only power is to allow someone to summon him and see his face three times when they need to. Furthermore, there is no guarantee that the person who uses that chance will be sent back alive. What happened to the Sword Hero is proof of that.”

Cheonma rose slowly from his seat. Everyone’s eyes turned to him as he stood. They knew he was tall when he was sitting, but standing, his exceptional height was even more pronounced. He was tall, yet lean and flawless, with a chiseled, handsome face. He was a man of such stunning beauty that one couldn’t help but be captivated, yet no one could meet the gaze of his deep-set eyes.

“I will grant your wish.”

Something landed softly in Eom Musang’s lap as she stared at the man, bewildered by his words and mesmerized by his beauty.

Overwhelmed by his presence, she hadn’t even noticed something flying toward her. She looked down at her lap with a puzzled expression.

What Cheonma had dropped into her lap was a part of the jade pendant he wore, a piece called a hengya.

A hengya was a piece of jade hung between the main parts of a pendant to create a beautiful sound when they chimed together. It was a part that often wore down from frequent striking. Yet, the hengya Cheonma had thrown was intricately carved with a celestial maiden pattern. It was a rare and precious ornament.

“From now on, that is the Hengya Token. It has the power to let you demand one thing from me, though only for a single quarter of an hour. Now, state your wish. What shall I grant for you?”

The bewildered girl looked at Cheonma. She didn't understand what he meant. One of her companions, who had been too intimidated to say anything, finally came to his senses. The young master of the Ximen Escort Agency, the oldest among them, frowned at Cheonma’s arrogance and stood up.

“I do not know what you are talking about all of a sudden. Sir, who are you to behave so rudely?”

Not knowing who stood before him, the young master Shin confronted him boldly. The man with the surname Peng also scowled, while the anxious-looking young man in blue fidgeted, watching the situation unfold. Cheonma looked down on them with an arrogant smile. A picturesque smile spread across his handsome lips.

“My name is Cheonma.”

“...Pardon?”

“So, state your wish, little brat. I am curious to see if you can keep your own word.”

For a moment, the girl’s face, which had been uncomprehending, slowly drained of color. The others at her table fared no better. Their faces turned ashen. The woman in yellow who had been constantly smiling at Cheonma, the son of the Peng family who had declared one should speak the truth even in front of Cheonma—they all stood frozen.

Cheonma’s sudden declaration plunged the entire third floor into a silence as if doused with cold water. It was a declaration that was hard to believe, yet no one thought he was lying. Not only because of the overwhelming presence he exuded, but also because they knew no one in the world was audacious enough to falsely claim the name of Cheonma.

Seok Munpyeong, who had risen to his feet and knelt on the floor as soon as Cheonma stood up, sighed to himself, thinking he knew it would come to this.

“As I said, you only have a quarter of an hour. It is best to do what must be done when you have the chance.”

At Cheonma’s calm advice, the girl’s pale lips began to tremble. Not just her lips, but her entire body. The hengya rolled from her trembling fingertips. The bead-like jade fell to the floor and rolled away.

She didn't even think of picking it up. She opened and closed her mouth as if wanting to say something, but no words came out. Her appearance was truly pitiful, but Cheonma’s gaze as he looked down at her was simply indifferent.

“Please spare her! Lord Heavenly Demon, please spare her!”

It was her sister, Eom Miran, who stepped forward on behalf of the speechless girl. While Eom Musang herself and the men who had been fawning over her were too afraid to act, she alone stepped forward. Tears streamed down her pale, fear-stricken face, but she did not stop her plea.

Blood was indeed thicker than water.

“She is just a child. She was raised too preciously and doesn't know the world; she is too young and thoughtless. I will discipline her properly. I will teach her so that something like this never happens again. So please, just this once, spare her life.”

She knelt and prostrated herself as she cried out. At her sister’s wail, the reality of the situation seemed to finally hit the younger girl, and tears began to well up in her ashen face.

The girl wept silently, without making a sound. Tears flowed ceaselessly from her large eyes, soaking her collar. If she hadn't been sitting in a chair, her legs would have surely given out and she would have collapsed to the floor. Her ragged, gulping breaths as she tried to suppress her sobs sounded as fragile as those of a baby bird.

“There is not much time left.”

Cheonma casually waved his hand. At his light gesture, the hengya that had rolled onto the floor floated into the air. He placed the bead back on the girl’s lap. The jade landed as softly as a feather, but the girl flinched as if struck. She recoiled as if an instrument of torture had been placed on her knee.

“You only need to say one thing. The one thing you yourself proclaimed you could say. If you say it, nothing will happen to you or your companions. I will keep my word, and you will keep yours.”

His voice was as sweet as honeyed words, tempting the girl.

`Go on, say what you said you would. Then you will live, and your sister will live. Your companions, who might have died for nothing because of you, will also be saved. And is that all? You would become a legend, a hero, for defeating Cheonma with just your tongue.`

Cheonma’s smiling face conveyed that meaning perfectly. It was as if he would really kill himself if Eom Musang told him to.

Still, the girl could not speak. Not just her, but her entire party was the same. Frozen in place like clay dolls, they could only sweat and dart their eyes around, unable to dream of ordering Cheonma to commit suicide.

“We are sorry. We are so sorry, Lord Heavenly Demon. We were careless.”

No, one person did speak. Eom Miran, desperately trying to save her younger sister’s life, was the only one in their group with enough courage to beg for forgiveness, bowing until her knees were raw.

Cheonma did not look at her.

Time passed in a silence broken only by the chattering of teeth. As time went on, the girl grew more and more frozen, but she never managed to say a word. Cheonma, who had been looking down at her with an emotionless gaze, finally let out a cold laugh as the promised quarter of an hour passed and retrieved the hengya.

“You make promises you cannot keep, and you fail to say what must be said. You have no need for a mouth. You were lucky today, but how long will that luck last? For your sake, I will do one thing for you before I go. As you were the first owner of the Hengya Token, it is only right that I show you this much courtesy.”

With those words, he lightly flicked his finger. Munpyeong didn't know what he did, but as soon as he flicked his finger, Eom Musang fell backward and lost consciousness. She collapsed from her seat and tumbled to the floor. She hit her head quite hard, but she seemed not to feel it.

“Musang!”

Startled, Eom Miran cried out her sister’s name and pulled her into her arms. Frantically patting her down to check for injuries, she found she couldn’t even determine what was wrong with her own level of skill. She looked up at Cheonma with tear-filled eyes.

“Did… did you kill her? Did you take her life?” she asked, weeping sorrowfully.

“Of course not. No matter how vile her words, would I really lay a hand on such a child? I merely took away one thing she had no need for. You need not worry.”

Cheonma, who had acted himself, spoke with a leisurely air, his face impassive as if he had no interest in the matter. Eom Miran bit her lip, but knowing the mistake they had made, she could only sob without another word.

Her companions, having belatedly regained their senses, began to pull her away. They kept their mouths shut tight, as if afraid of drawing Cheonma’s attention if they spoke, and simply tugged at her clothes to convey their intentions.

Eom Miran, who had been weeping while holding her sister, was reluctantly led down the stairs by them. The sight of them, having suffered such an unexpected misfortune, was utterly grim. Though it was just a guess, Munpyeong thought they would likely leave Ruoqiang County immediately.

Cheonma, having terrified a young girl half to death and taken something unknown from her, turned to look at Munpyeong with an expression of complete indifference. Then, he suddenly tossed the hengya in his hand to him.

Munpyeong instinctively caught it. The jade, which had for a short time been called the Hengya Token, was still a precious object, but he felt as if he were holding a poisonous toad and flinched inwardly.

“Have you finished your meal?”

Cheonma asked in his usual tone. Though he wasn't full, his appetite had vanished after witnessing the scene Cheonma had created. He affirmed the question.

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Then let’s go to our room. I’m tired.”

Cheonma spoke coolly, turned, and descended the stairs. `If he says go, I have to go. What choice do I have?` Munpyeong followed him down.

The quarters Cheonma had reserved were in a separate, lavishly decorated annex behind the Luxury Inn. It was not as grand as the Thunder Palace, of course, but it was hard to believe it was merely an annex of an inn.

But Munpyeong had no time to calmly look around. The moment he stepped through the door, he was grabbed by the scruff of his neck, and before he could even process what was happening, his lips were seized.

Cheonma let out a low, bestial growl as he plundered the inside of Munpyeong’s mouth. It was a kiss so violent it was hard to tell if he was kissing him or biting and ravaging the inside of his mouth.

`Oh, ugh. I forgot!`

Munpyeong cried out in his mind.

Both his wrists, which had been unconsciously pushing back, were caught in a claw-like grip. He was slammed against the wall with enough force to make a **thud**, and pinned there, he had to endure a storm-like assault.

It all happened so suddenly that he was completely disoriented. `Ah, right, I should have been careful,` the thought flickered belatedly in his mind, but it didn't last long.

Cheonma’s caresses were excessively rough. Rougher than in the bathroom, and even rougher than in the fantasy. He bit at the soft lips as if to tear them, and his impatient hands rubbed against Munpyeong’s back like sandpaper. Munpyeong was still unwashed and covered in so much dust that people had mistaken him for a beggar, yet Cheonma seemed to have no concern for hygiene as he ruthlessly explored his body.

`Ah, ow. It hurts!`

Munpyeong screamed internally. If he had been told this was a sparring match, at least he could have prepared himself mentally.

`So much for being good at it. So much for making me cry out in a different way than in the fantasy.`

After all that bragging, this was the result.

“M-My Lord. Just a moment…”

Cheonma tore at Munpyeong’s black martial arts robe at the shoulder as if to rip it. His pants were already down to his knees. The back of his neck, scabbed over from being scraped on the ground, was rubbed against the wall again.

Cheonma roughly grabbed Munpyeong’s thigh and lifted it, wrapping it around his own waist. Munpyeong, already in a precarious position, stumbled and threw his arms around Cheonma’s shoulders. Without any preparation, Cheonma’s enormous weapon stirred near his buttocks. `Surely not,` he thought, but the grotesque position was being formed, and it seemed the man intended to pierce him just like this.

`This man is trying to kill me! If he puts it in like this, I’ll really be torn apart! I'll have to wear diapers for the rest of my life!`

Though he had no experience with homosexuality, Munpyeong had grown up in the barracks and had some common sense. He was terrified and opened his mouth.

“My Lord, you can’t!!”

Unable to bear it any longer, Munpyeong yelled. He had thought about it countless times in his head, but this was the first time he had ever voiced his refusal out loud.

His scream was so desperate that even Cheonma reacted. He, who had been biting into Munpyeong’s neck as if he wouldn't be satisfied until he drew blood, looked at him with an irritated gaze.

“What is it?”

Munpyeong placed a hand on Cheonma’s chest and pushed him away. Not hard, just enough for them to meet each other’s eyes.

As if understanding the meaning of the action, Cheonma didn’t resist. He obediently met Munpyeong’s gaze.

Munpyeong locked eyes with him. His face was as expressionless as ever, but deep within his eyes, a fire raged. It was not just desire; an unidentifiable, violent emotion simmered behind his ice-clear irises.

`What… what is he so angry about?`

Discovering a gaze far darker and more somber than he had expected, Munpyeong’s shoulders stiffened. Meeting those burning eyes felt like encountering a predator in the dark, sending a shiver down his spine.

“My Lord.”

No matter, his own predicament was more urgent. More concerned with his own situation than Cheonma’s unknown troubles, Munpyeong swallowed dryly and called out to him.

“Speak. What is it?” Cheonma growled in a tone that promised to chew him up and leave no bones if he spoke nonsense. Munpyeong flinched again, but remembering that cowering at every reaction would lead to a lifetime of diapers, he steeled himself.

`Right. If this is going to happen, I should at least make it less painful.`

Munpyeong had no desire to ruin his body over a one-night stand, so he gathered every ounce of courage he had and spoke with difficulty.

“You made a promise, My Lord. You said you would make me cry out.”

`Is it okay to say this? What if he just cuts my head off for being insolent?` Munpyeong felt his facial muscles tighten with a thousand worries, but he continued to speak. Cheonma’s gaze shifted to one of disbelief, but he ignored it.

“You said you would make it different from what I experienced in the fantasy. You said you would correct my misunderstanding. Am I wrong?”

He spoke audacious words with his mouth while holding Cheonma’s gaze with his eyes.

`Why am I doing this? I have nothing to lose.`

Though his neck trembled from holding his head up so stubbornly, Munpyeong did not look away. Cheonma’s fierce gaze softened slightly. A vertical crease formed between his perfect eyebrows.

“And?”

“But from your current behavior, it seems I will have no choice but to continue misunderstanding you, My Lord.”

Even in the notoriously rough barracks, men would at least use some grease on their partner’s backside. Sometimes it was leftover pork lard, sometimes soybean oil, and sometimes even lamp oil, but it was still oil.

“Ha. Audacious.”

Though trembling, he didn't look away, and though his voice was choked, he finished what he had to say. Cheonma, who had been listening silently, wondering what he was trying to say, let out a laugh of disbelief at the bold challenge from the man who was usually too scared to even meet his eyes. Despite his mood being thoroughly soured by the little brat, looking at this man somehow made him laugh.

`He must have agonized over this to come up with such words.` It was a reaction he never would have expected from him, so it was fresh and amusing.

“So? Are you asking me to make you cry out properly now? Asking me to keep my promise?”

“Were they not your own words, My Lord? I thought you were a man who keeps his word.”

“No. You saw wrong.”

“...Pardon?”

“I only keep the promises I want to keep. Even that little brat from before seemed to know that. Did you not know?”

Cheonma sneered, his tone like a light slap. But even though his words were sharp, his gaze was calm. Munpyeong’s unexpected reaction had started to cool his fiery rage, and thanks to that, his reason was slowly returning.

He had intended to take his anger out on Munpyeong, but with his partner reacting this way, he thought it might not be so bad to enjoy it a little. His mood was still foul, but there was more than one way to vent his frustrations. He had no hobby of forcibly raping unwilling partners.

`I must have been a bit too harsh.`

Cheonma discreetly scanned Munpyeong’s body. He had only been rough with him for a very short time, but the marks left on him were not insignificant.

His nipples, bitten mercilessly, were red and swollen and looked painful. His arms were dotted with bruises as if he had been pinched, and his neck and shoulders were a mess of bite marks wherever his teeth had landed. His lips were split and bleeding. He looked more like he had been beaten than in the middle of lovemaking.

`Are you not going to keep it?`

Munpyeong looked at him with frightened eyes, but he did not look away. Though his eyes trembled, his resentment was clear. `Are you really going to do it just like this?` Munpyeong asked with his eyes.

He was so cowardly, yet so amusing. The one who usually couldn't even meet his eyes in front of him, but grumbled behind his back, was now coming at him like this. He must have really steeled his resolve.

Cheonma thought things were taking a very interesting turn.

“What do you like?”

Cheonma stepped back from Munpyeong and asked curiously. He let go of the legs wrapped around his waist and pulled back the penis he had been trying to force into his anus. It had only been half-erect, so it wasn't too difficult. He wasn't so young as to be swayed by a mere biological reaction.

As Cheonma stepped back and began to ask questions seriously, Munpyeong, who had thrown out his words like a gambler, stared with wide eyes. His face was ordinary, frankly not much to look at, but his expressive eyes were quite something.

Cheonma watched those eyes with a pleasant feeling and waited leisurely for an answer. It had been a long time since he had met someone who showed their inner thoughts so plainly.

“What I like, My Lord?”

“You must have a way you enjoy it. If I do it my way, I will enjoy it, but I cannot know if you will as well. How do you like it? Do you like it with many people? Standing up? Or sitting down? Which part do you feel more, the penis or the testicles? Do you like having your balls sucked?”

A barrage of incredibly explicit questions was thrown at him.

`Wh-what, what did you say?`

Munpyeong, who always turned into a fool in front of Cheonma, was speechless and stammered pathetically.

`Why is he asking such embarrassing questions? Is he expecting me to answer that?`

Cheonma always asked the most unanswerable, wicked things. Munpyeong was dumbfounded. But his questions were just beginning.

“What positions do you like? Tiger’s Prowl? Fish's Adjoined Scales? Crane's Intertwined Necks? Phoenix's Flight? Ape's Grasp? Where do you like to do it? On a bed? On a table? On the floor? In the water? Or do you prefer standing? What about voyeurism? Do you get more excited with an audience?”

A sense of terror arose as he listened. The terror of perhaps having to experience all the numerous methods Cheonma was listing firsthand. Cheonma, who had been listing his own preferences while pretending to ask about Munpyeong's, seemed to be getting aroused by his own words.

The thought of being taken by a man in such varied and complex ways made Munpyeong’s head spin.

`Just once. Just think of it as being bitten by a dog.`

Munpyeong told himself, as if brainwashing himself.

`Surely I won't have to go through all that. Will Cheonma even remember me by then? I wouldn't be surprised if he forgets my name tomorrow.`

Brainwashing alone wasn't enough, so he added a plausible reason to calm himself down.

“I like it… gentle.”

Though he felt a dizzying sense of shame, he had to survive first. Besides, it wasn't a complete lie. Munpyeong preferred leisurely lovemaking that took its time. Though his harsh life had given him few experiences, he had never had sex more than twice in one night, always taking his time.

“Specifically?”

“After washing thoroughly, on a bed, and without pain.”

“How simple.”

`It might be simple to you, but it's a desperate plea for me,` Munpyeong thought, looking at Cheonma with a tense expression.

Cheonma smiled faintly and beckoned to Munpyeong. The slow smile spreading across his handsome face was a beautiful sight, but not knowing what it meant made him anxious.

“Come here.”

He hesitated before walking forward at his call.

“Closer.”

He did as he was told, and his wrist was grabbed. His upper body was pulled forward, causing him to lean. Cheonma’s other hand cupped the back of his head. Hot breath touched his ear. He licked the shell of his ear with a wet tongue, as if tasting it, then gently bit his earlobe before letting go.

“If you perform oral sex on me right now, I will take you as you wish.”

Cheonma said in a languid, wet voice. A smile so rich it seemed fragrant moistened his lips.

“The choice is yours. Be taken the way I want, or perform oral sex and have it the way you want. I will do as you please, either way.”

Cheonma called it a choice, but to Munpyeong, it was a demand. Knowing that Cheonma’s way was no different from rape, what madman in the world would choose that?

Munpyeong thought the hand on the back of his head was hot. Hot and heavy. Like a branding iron heated to mark him. It wasn't pulling him with force, but Munpyeong felt an irresistible pull.

He knew that if he refused, he would really be taken roughly. Without any consideration, like a toy doll, not a human. On the other hand, if he performed oral sex, he would receive better treatment. Still not humanly, perhaps, but at least his body wouldn't be harmed.

Munpyeong lowered his head weakly. As his head tilted, the hand on the back of his neck slowly slid down. He felt a hot warmth on the nape of his neck, where the skin was chapped and peeling.

`Damn it.` Cursing under his breath, Munpyeong squeezed his eyes shut and opened his mouth.

***

His mouth still felt raw.

He had experienced it before, but Cheonma’s penis was truly a magnificent thing. Like a heavenly steed, "tianma", rather than a Heavenly Demon, "tianmo", his almost horse-sized member had great stamina and power, giving Munpyeong a very hard time.

No matter how wide he opened his mouth, less than half of it would fit, and it thrashed about so wildly that it made the roof of his mouth sore. It was bound to be a struggle.

Even with Cheonma showing some consideration, Munpyeong tasted hell. It was so bad that he felt he hadn't performed oral sex, but had been violated by it. He had been on the verge of having his throat torn instead of his rear.

But what Munpyeong found even harder to endure was not the size of the penis, but the semen it ejaculated.

That slick, lukewarm substance. It clung to his tongue before he could finally swallow it down after a few difficult gulps. It had the most terrible texture of anything he had ever tasted.

After drinking it, a raw, fishy smell lingered in his mouth. No matter how many times he rinsed with water or brushed his teeth with salt, the distinctive, acrid scent of semen would not go away. He even stuck his fingers in his mouth to scrub his tongue, thinking it might still be stuck there, but when he realized it was all in vain, he simply gave up.

**Splash. Splash.**

Thanks to that ordeal, Munpyeong earned some time to bathe. Cheonma, belatedly realizing that sand was falling from Munpyeong’s hair, had granted him time for a bath.

He had a servant fill a wooden tub with water, and as he soaked his weary body, he felt a pleasant languor spread through him. He washed his hair, his face, and his body. He should have returned to the bedroom by now, but he couldn't bring himself to get up.

His muscles, which had been abused all day, were slowly relaxing in the warm water. The warm, soft water sloshed with a pleasant sound every time he moved, and the musk added to the bathwater gently awakened his hazy mind. Everything was so perfectly satisfying that he thought it would be nice to just die right then and there.

`No. There's one thing that isn't perfect. That one horse on the other side of the wall.`

Munpyeong rested the back of his head on the edge of the tub and let out a low sigh. He had negotiated with Cheonma and gotten what he wanted, making it the most successful gamble of his life, but he wasn't happy with his winnings. He felt like he wanted to take it all back.

`Haa. I really don't want to go out. Is this what they mean when they say your mind is different when you enter the bathroom versus when you leave? I don't even want to leave the bathroom at all, so maybe that doesn't even apply to me.`

He knew he had to go out. He knew what would happen if he didn't. But he really didn't want to, so he just kept dawdling.

...Perhaps he dawdled too long. Munpyeong heard the bathroom door open and turned his head. Cheonma was entering the bathroom.

“I’m all washed up. I was just about to come out after a little longer.”

Munpyeong offered an excuse that even he wouldn't believe and awkwardly stood up. Cheonma draped a dry cloth over his wet shoulders and smiled quietly.

“I know.”

`You would never have come out on your own.`

Cheonma looked at Munpyeong’s delectable body, from which water was still dripping. His face was just so-so, but his body was exactly to Cheonma’s taste.

Long legs with firm muscles. A slender waist. His buttocks were firm and high, likely from all the running, and his arms had lean, not bulky, muscles. He had quite a few scars from his rough life, but to Cheonma’s eyes, even those were attractive.

If a man was born and had no scars on his body, he had lived a wasted life. For a man, the scars from battle were his history, his medals.

In that sense, Cheonma greatly missed the scars on his own body, which had completely vanished after his Rejuvenation. The scars from his youth had disappeared during his first Rejuvenation in his thirties, and after spending another fifty years collecting new ones, they had vanished again with the second. Thanks to that, his body was as smooth as a newborn’s, without a single blemish. He didn't even have a mole.

`This one has a mole here. It’s cute.`

Cheonma, his eyes tracing Munpyeong’s body as if licking it, noticed a small mole on his right shoulder, somewhere between his neck and shoulder blade. It was in an awkward spot that would normally go unnoticed, but by chance, it was located right in the middle of a space between two of his own bite marks, so it caught his eye immediately. He placed a small kiss on that spot and wrapped the dry cloth he had brought around Munpyeong’s wet body.

Munpyeong flinched as if tickled. Goosebumps rose on his bare shoulders.

`What an honest body. It expresses everything it feels, just as it is.`

It was a body that was undeniably "honest," in a way that was distinctly different from being "sensitive." Feeling a sense of satisfaction, Cheonma smiled and lifted Munpyeong into his arms.

Munpyeong, who had been standing awkwardly, was suddenly held in Cheonma’s arms like a bride. Flustered, he wrapped his arms around Cheonma’s neck. Though he was wrapped in a dry cloth, his body was still wet, and water dripped onto Cheonma.

Cheonma paid it no mind and walked on, holding Munpyeong.

“I can walk, My Lord.”

Whether out of embarrassment at being held or discomfort at being carried away, Munpyeong belatedly started to struggle, insisting he could walk on his own.

`You didn't come, though. After you promised.`

Cheonma looked down at the struggling Munpyeong and smiled languidly.

`A missed chance never comes back. Do you still not know that?`

“You asked me to be gentle, so I’m being gentle. Why? Are you dissatisfied with this too?”

Though he spoke in a generous tone, anyone who wasn't a fool could hear the barb in his words.

Munpyeong immediately understood the meaning and stopped struggling. Cheonma seemed satisfied by this and narrowed his eyes.

Munpyeong was carried to the bedroom in Cheonma’s arms. Even when they arrived, Cheonma did not put him down.

He carried Munpyeong straight to the bed. He laid him down on the silk quilt without even drying his wet body. Alarmed, Munpyeong sat up.

Cheonma gently pushed his chest. A voice as sweet as honey followed.

“Just lie down. Don’t move.”

It was a command delivered in the sweetest tone in the world, but a command was a command. This time too, Munpyeong was very obedient.

Munpyeong watched as Cheonma lifted his leg. With a dry cloth in one hand, Cheonma placed Munpyeong’s leg on his shoulder and began to dry it with slow, languid strokes. At first, he thought it was a plain cotton cloth because it was white, but then he felt the smooth texture on his leg and realized it was silk.

The precious fabric glided softly over Munpyeong’s rough leg. It felt like his leg was being washed again with soft water, and after the feeling passed, the skin was dry and soft. Cheonma meticulously and slowly dried his leg, occasionally kissing his ankle, which rested on his shoulder.

Cheonma’s lips touched the hollow between his ankle bone and his foot. He rubbed it gently, then lightly bit and released. A thrilling sensation shot up from his toes and burrowed into the space between his buttocks.

Munpyeong flinched and drew his leg back, but Cheonma gently stroked the back of his knee, forcing his leg to straighten, which made him twist his hips. The subtle, deliberate movements were both ticklish and electrifying.

`What is…`

He felt a sensation with every small movement. After his right leg, it was his left leg’s turn. Cheonma’s touch was so soft that he couldn’t tell which was the silk, the cloth or his hand. **Flinch, flinch.** His toes curled with every movement of Cheonma’s hand.

Unbelievably, a subtle heat began to kindle inside him. The main event hadn’t even started yet, but his breath was already hot. Munpyeong looked around in confusion.

`What is this? What is this!`

Munpyeong, who had never imagined he would feel anything from Cheonma’s touch, bit his lip in bewilderment as unexpected sensations awakened his body. The feelings were completely different from when he had caressed a woman.

With every pass of Cheonma’s hand, new sensations he had never felt before were scattered like seeds, and those sensations took deep root, consuming his body.

The wet silk was discarded and a new one swept over his body. Like a feather, like warm water, Cheonma’s lips landed sweetly on the places that had been dried. His lips were soft and tender. It was hard to believe this was the same person who had bitten his lips and made them bleed just a short while ago.

Cheonma lightly bit Munpyeong’s lean lower abdomen and licked his prominent hip bones. **Lick, lick.** A lewd, wet sound was heard on his moist skin.

“Hahk.”

Munpyeong, who had been trying to clench his teeth and hold back his groans, let out a sound. The heavy weight of a man’s body settled between his spread legs. He had expected it to be terrible, but it wasn't. His body, where the seeds planted by Cheonma had begun to sprout, was receiving sensations in a different way now.

A heat began to rise in his skin. A reddish blush bloomed beneath his healthy, tanned skin. Cheonma’s hot, throbbing penis rubbed against his, as if caressing it. Cheonma was human, and so was he, so their body temperatures should have been similar, yet his penis felt scalding hot. Munpyeong let out a low gasp without realizing it.

A soft hand stroked his pubic hair. The dry hand, after brushing through his hair, lightly grasped his penis. Cheonma’s hand was dry yet soft. A martial artist’s hand should have calluses, but his had not a single hard spot. It felt like a layer of silk had been placed over his skin.

The long, delicate fingers expertly caressed his penis. It was a clear caress, one that could not be described simply as "stroking." The touch stimulated all of a man’s weak spots, and Munpyeong’s penis stood erect.

“Ahk. Ah.”

Munpyeong began to let out short groans at the direct caress on his penis. He tried to grab the damp silk quilt to suppress his moans, but the smooth fabric slipped through his fingers.

Cheonma’s other hand cupped his testicles. He rubbed the two orbs together lightly, then traced the sensitive area beneath the scrotum with his fingertip. A thrilling sensation shot deep into his stomach, and he twisted his hips. It was a strange feeling, like his testicles were being wrapped in silk and squeezed. It was dizzyingly sensual.

**Thump, thump.** The sound of his heartbeat grew louder. Munpyeong didn't know what his heart was beating for. It didn't seem to be just out of fear, like before. It was something entirely different. Something he had never wanted to receive from Cheonma was making his heart race.

“A useful thing. The size is decent, and the balls are full. You must have had fun playing with this until now, haven’t you?”

Cheonma’s wet lips covered Munpyeong’s ear. He whispered lewd words in an elegant voice, playfully biting his soft earlobe.

“How does it feel when you put this into a woman? That wet, hot, tight feeling. The feeling of a wet passage wrapping around your penis, tightening and loosening. It’s a wonderful thought, isn’t it? There’s nothing as wonderful as feeling your own penis squirming inside your partner’s body. The feeling of completely dominating your partner. That complete sense of conquest.”

Cheonma’s hand moved down past his testicles. The soft, delicate perineum and the anus beneath it. Cheonma lightly scratched the tip of the small, flower-like wrinkled entrance with his fingernail and let out a low laugh. Munpyeong, his hips twitching, bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut tighter. A wave of dizziness washed over him.

“You wouldn’t know. Men with bodies as trained as yours have a strong grip there. Their muscles are so toned that sometimes it’s even painful. But that’s not the only reason I prefer men.”

Even as he whispered endlessly in his ear, Cheonma’s hands did not stop. Unwanted pleasure dominated his body. He clenched his teeth and tried to feel nothing, but it was useless. The pleasure came relentlessly, like a nightmare.

“Men like you, their minds break when their bodies do. When they are opened up for the first time, they receive an unspeakable shock. Because they never imagined they could be opened, they can’t accept that fact. Do you know how wonderful that makes things?

From that moment, they forget themselves. They forget the pride and self-esteem they had so firmly protected, and they even forget that the one on top of them is another man. All their senses are focused on one thing: the hole. The hole they didn't even know they had. They endlessly remind themselves that another man’s penis is moving in and out of it.”

Cheonma spoke words that felt like they could shatter one’s mind, all while rubbing Munpyeong’s anus. Though his words suggested he would tear him apart and break his spirit, his touch was incredibly gentle. He had somehow gotten scented oil, and his slick fingers began to penetrate Munpyeong’s body.

Munpyeong lay with his legs spread wide, accepting the fingers that probed and seeped into him. They gently caressed the narrow inner walls, spreading the oil evenly. With each pass of his fingers, an unfamiliar sensation made the unaccustomed inner walls tremble.

One. Two. Three. As time passed, the number of fingers steadily increased. Each time, Munpyeong’s trembling lips were covered by Cheonma’s.

His fingers toyed with his anus while his tongue toyed with his lips. Attacked from both top and bottom, Munpyeong was so lost in the unfamiliar pleasure that he didn't even realize his own penis was erect and pressing against his stomach.

Cheonma kissed Munpyeong’s mouth as he turned his body to the side. Not completely, but at an angle. His left leg was left dangling on the bed, while his right leg was hooked over Cheonma’s shoulder. At last, he began to enter the body he had so persistently prepared.

The penis entered Munpyeong’s body in a single moment. At first, he didn’t realize it, distracted by the fingers that constantly violated his insides. Then, at some point, he realized that what was entering him now was not a finger, but Cheonma’s penis.

As soon as he realized this, the enormous member filled him completely. The inner walls were stretched to their limit by the penis that seemed to endlessly push in, as if to completely block his anus. The soft inner lining struggled under the pressure of the massive, veined pillar.

Munpyeong screamed at the painful sensation that pierced his insides. His bent fingers scratched futilely at the soft silk quilt. Unable to find a handhold, he bit his lip and twisted his body. The sideways position allowed Cheonma’s penis to penetrate even deeper. His suspended leg trembled.

It felt like his insides were completely full. The feeling of his organs being directly poked made him gag. Still, Cheonma pushed in further, as if he wasn't all the way in yet, prying his body open with effort.

Munpyeong could feel Cheonma’s pulse throbbing vividly inside him. It was an unfamiliar sensation, like having a second heart between his legs. As the hot, throbbing thing stirred, his entire lower back shook.

“Aah. Ahk. Aah!”

The movements began. What started as a slow, gentle rubbing gradually turned into thrusts. At first, it was moderate. Then, the intensity increased, and finally, it became so fast it was like he was just ramming into him.

The stretched folds of his anus burned. Munpyeong felt as if he had become a thin membrane, wrapping around Cheonma’s penis. All his senses were focused on the inner walls where the penis moved in and out, and the area around it.

The raw sensation of his insides being churned. The fear of the alien reality of another person occupying his body. All the blood in his body rushed to one place, then spread rapidly throughout his body. A tremor ran through him along with the blood. A sharp, stinging something. Something that burned his blood, seared his flesh, and even incinerated his bones spread quickly through his entire body.

“Aaahk. Ah. Aaaahk!!”

Munpyeong couldn’t keep up with Cheonma’s rapid thrusts. A sensation he had never experienced in his life churned in his stomach. It was painful and difficult, yet his heart trembled. It was his own body, but it didn't feel like his.

Cheonma had everything under his perfect control, but Munpyeong, who was being dragged along helplessly, felt as if his flesh was being flayed and his bones exposed. The sensation of Cheonma’s penis inside him dominating him—that sharp, inexorable feeling finally made him burst into tears.

He knew this was not a sexual act. This was not lovemaking, nor was it mating. This was merely a banquet. Cheonma’s private banquet, where Seok Munpyeong was the meal.

And Munpyeong had not been invited.

***

He peered through the magnifying glass at the delicate inner workings. Thin metal plates, pressed as thin as paper, interlocked in a toothed pattern, forming an intricate structure. It was a world of flawless perfection, calculated with exquisite precision. An equation without symbols.

With a pair of tweezers thinner than a chopstick, he removed a small gear. The gear, one of the smallest components in the clock, was no bigger than a fingernail. Even within such a small gear, there was a round central axis. An axis so small and thin that even a child’s delicate fingertips couldn't pick it up. It looked like a dragonfly’s leg.

Gwak Jin-mu took a deep breath. He had been pondering for a full quarter of an hour just to remove that one central axis. In the blueprint he had drawn in his mind, that axis played a crucial role. It might even be the most important part of the clock. As that small axis turned, the seconds began, which became minutes, and then hours.

To know time through the results of precisely calculated geometric angles and mathematics—to Gwak Jin-mu, who believed that mathematics constituted the world, there was no greater beauty. He felt a sublime beauty in it. A metaphysical, spiritual, ultimate beauty. To Gwak Jin-mu, it was a beauty that touched his heart more than any beautiful woman in the world.

“What are you doing?”

He was just about to pull out the axis with the tweezers. Carefully, trying not to damage the precious clock, he was about to remove the part. Just then, a rough hand landed on him.

Gwak Jin-mu almost ruined the clock because of the person who had suddenly clung to his shoulder. The tweezers slipped and poked another part.

Startled, Gwak Jin-mu threw down the tweezers and hastily inspected the inside of the clock. Fortunately, though the surface was scratched, the structure itself was unharmed. Gwak Jin-mu finally let out a sigh of relief.

“What are you tinkering with again? What is it?”

A curious head peeked over his shoulder. Gwak Jin-mu pushed the clock further onto the desk and turned around. He took off the magnifying glass.

“You startled me, Junior Sister. Make some noise next time.”

Having almost ruined a precious object, Gwak Jin-mu grumbled openly. But his impudent junior sister just snorted at his complaint.

“Does that make sense for a so-called martial artist? You shouldn't expect the other person to make noise; you should be the one to notice first.”

“Do you think I didn’t know you used the Leopard-Stalking Step to approach without a sound?”

“Oh, so you really didn’t notice my presence?”

“If I had, would I have been this surprised?”

“Hmm. Is that so? Interesting. So if I use the Leopard-Stalking Step, you can’t notice my presence…”

She said to herself, her eyes glinting strangely.

“Wait a minute. What are you planning to do?”

Gwak Jin-mu, who had suffered greatly at the hands of his mischievous and ill-mannered junior sister, felt a sudden ominous premonition at her suspicious look.

“I only meant when I’m this focused. Of course, it’s not like that usually. I’m a martial artist too, you know.”

He tried to make excuses belatedly, but it didn't seem to work. The junior sister, smirking like a cat that had caught a bird, smiled meaningfully.

“We’ll see about that.”

The phrase "we'll see" was more terrifying than any threat.

“But what brings you here? Are you back from the trade mission already?”

Cho Gyo-yeon, the youngest of the Four Disciples, had been away on a trade mission. She had left the day after the Dragon and Tiger Tournament, so it had been a while.

It had been quiet and nice in the sect for a while. Gwak Jin-mu, who was always pushed around by his tomboyish junior sister who was particularly fond of him, felt a pang of disappointment that her mission had ended so soon and posed the question.

Cho Gyo-yeon moved to the tea table, sat down in a chair, and smiled brightly.

“I came back halfway. The desert wind was too harsh.”

It was Gwak Jin-mu who was surprised by her casual words. He stared at her with a dumbfounded expression for a long time before managing to ask, “...Weren't you the leader of this trade mission? And you just came back alone?”

“Oh, come on. What’s there to worry about with Steward Mun around? He does all the necessary work on the trade mission anyway. I’m just a figurehead to make things look good.”

“Still, a person has a sense of responsibility,”

No matter how thoughtless she was, the story of her abandoning a duty of the sect left Gwak Jin-mu dumbfounded. Thinking he couldn't just let it go, he tried to advise her, but Cho Gyo-yeon cut him off before he could finish.

“Speaking of responsibility… that thing you were fiddling with just now, that’s a ‘table clock,’ right?”

“Ah, yes.”

“Didn’t you ask me to get that for you? That’s why I even took on the trade mission.”

Cho Gyo-yeon asked with a sweet, cute smile. Gwak Jin-mu felt a cold sweat break out on his back and couldn't say a word.

“Didn’t you say that item was hard to find unless it was in the Western Regions? That you had to go at least to Persia? I was planning to go all the way to that distant Persia because you said you wanted it so, so badly, and here it is, right here. My, my. What happened?”

Cho Gyo-yeon, the daughter of the Demon King of Ten Thousand Beasts, Ye Ok-gyeong, was, like her mother, a very bewitching and beautiful woman. Her jawline was slender, her cheeks were rosy, and her eyes were large with narrow, upturned corners. Overall, her features were pretty and delicate, but the slyly upturned eyes gave her a slightly foxy impression.

Did people resemble their looks? With her foxy appearance, her personality was also like a fox. Especially when she was angry like this, she was no different from a nine-tailed fox said to steal people’s livers.

“No, that’s… Master got it for me. I’d been going on and on about wanting a table clock, and I guess he remembered. You know Master, Junior Sister. He can be surprisingly thoughtful.”

From a young age, Gwak Jin-mu had never been able to win against his junior sister. He had never even thought he could. He loved mathematics but had a laid-back personality in daily life, while she was meticulous and liked to nitpick, so their personalities clashed.

“I heard you traded the Monkey Wine for it.”

“You, you heard wrong. Traded? Master gave me a precious gift, so I just offered something in return.”

“Since when were you so respectful to Master?”

“I’ve always been respectful. I have a very open personality, so I’m often misunderstood, but there’s no one who respects Master as deeply as I do in my heart. Ah, except for Eldest Brother. I’m not as much as him. To be honest, Eldest Brother’s level of devotion is a bit scary. I’m not at that level, just the next one down.”

Like a husband dealing with a nagging wife, Gwak Jin-mu rambled on with his excuses. He knew Cho Gyo-yeon saw right through him, but he couldn't just tell her the truth. If she were the type to forgive him for being honest, he wouldn't have tried to deceive her in the first place.

`Damn it. Who ratted me out? She was in the middle of the desert just a few days ago. Don't tell me there's a spy around me?`

A cold sweat ran down Gwak Jin-mu’s back. It was terrifying that she had received information about him while traveling through the remote wilderness, not even in the Central Plains, with no villages to use as contact points. Why did his not-so-bright junior sister become so thorough only when dealing with him?

`Why are you so hell-bent on tormenting me, Junior Sister?`

Gwak Jin-mu thought, feeling like he wanted to cry. He really couldn't handle his junior sister.

Cho Gyo-yeon placed a hand on her slender waist. Seeing this, Gwak Jin-mu’s shoulders stiffened. A beautiful woman, angry and with her hand on her hip—if an unknowing person saw it, they would find it very cute and charming. But to Gwak Jin-mu, who had grown up with her like a real sibling and knew everything about her, Cho Gyo-yeon’s action was extremely threatening.

Wrapped around Cho Gyo-yeon’s waist was her signature weapon, the Illusory Demon Whip. Her placing a hand on her waist meant she might draw that weapon, which was a clear, unspoken threat.

The Illusory Demon Whip was a rare and precious weapon that Cheonma had specially procured for her, even catching a flood dragon, as she used a whip as her main weapon.

It was three feet long, as thick as a slender woman’s finger, and had a beautiful silver color that shimmered faintly. It looked like a decorative sash for a whip, but in reality, it was a terrifying weapon that could not only tear flesh but also shatter bone with a single strike. And it didn’t just break bones; it shattered them into pieces, making it the most suitable weapon for crippling an opponent.

“Little Junior Sister. I’m sorry. I really didn’t do it on purpose.”

To appease her, Gwak Jin-mu lied without batting an eye. Though her angry gaze was fixed on him, he didn't look away, trying to add credibility to his words. A gentle smile bloomed from Gwak Jin-mu’s puppy-like, downward-sloping eyes, a stark contrast to Cho Gyo-yeon’s.

“Do you think I deliberately tried to trick you? I’m hurt, Junior Sister. Why would I do such a thing to my young and lovely junior sister? What kind of senior brother in the world would be so mean to a cute little sister like you?”

His acting was surprisingly convincing, perhaps because he was desperately trying to save his own skin. If he had been facing anyone other than Cho Gyo-yeon, he might have gotten away with it. It was a performance of a lifetime.

`Really, if she weren't so cute, I'd just, ugh.`

Cho Gyo-yeon, who had been glaring at Gwak Jin-mu with a cold expression, ground her teeth inwardly. Though he was almost ten years her senior, she couldn't understand why this man was so cute. She just wanted to be with him because he was cute, but he always avoided her, and when she got annoyed and teased him a little, he would immediately back away and run. And he wasn't the type she could win over by playing coy like other women, because this man was a pervert who only got excited about mathematics.

“But did you really come back because of that, Junior Sister?”

He wasn’t quick-witted, but he was good at reading the atmosphere. Seeing that Cho Gyo-yeon was just glaring at him and not showing any more anger, Gwak Jin-mu cautiously started to talk to her again. He had noticed that her mood had softened somewhat.

“You were very angry because of me, because of the news about the table clock?”

`How did you hear that news? Did you really put a tail on me?` He couldn't ask directly, so he just mumbled. Finally, that's what he came up with. Cho Gyo-yeon, her hand still on her hip, lifted her chin.

`What if I did?`

Her unspoken question made Gwak Jin-mu mumble again.

“No, well, it’s not that I have a complaint. I was just a little curious.”

“Give me the Monkey Wine.”

Cho Gyo-yeon said authoritatively, holding out her hand as if demanding something she had left in his care. “Huh?” Gwak Jin-mu let out a bewildered sound. Cho Gyo-yeon pushed her hand closer to his face and urged him on.

“The Monkey Wine from Yunnan. Give it to me. Even if you gave some to Master as a token of gratitude, you must have some set aside for yourself, right? The bottle you hid to drink all by yourself. Hand it over.”

“Little Junior Sister?”

“Don’t even think about denying it. You’re not Eldest Brother, so there’s no way you would have given all of that precious liquor to Master. Hurry up and give it to me. I need it.”

Gwak Jin-mu was in a bind at Cho Gyo-yeon’s sudden demand.

Monkey Wine was truly a precious liquor. It was something that could only be found with luck and timing, like wild ginseng, and there wasn't much of it. It was made by monkeys who couldn't use elaborate tools, hidden in rock crevices or tree hollows.

He had waited five years and scraped together only two bottles, one of which he had already given to Master. Gwak Jin-mu, who hadn't even tasted the Monkey Wine himself because he was saving it, felt it was truly unfair to have to give the remaining bottle to his junior sister.

“This is really precious. Even for you, Junior Sister, I can’t just give it away…”

“You know I came back in the middle of my mission because of you, right? I got so angry because of *you*, so furious that I just came back. Now that I’m back at the sect, Master will find out, and do you think he’ll just let me be? Master is thorough when it comes to duties within the sect, if nothing else. Aren’t you worried about what will happen to your poor little junior sister if she goes to Master empty-handed? Don’t you feel any moral responsibility, since I’m in this mess because of *you*?”

Cho Gyo-yeon raised a delicate eyebrow and looked at Gwak Jin-mu.

“Is that really how it is? You don’t care?”

Gwak Jin-mu thought he didn't care, but he knew that if he said that, the Illusory Demon Whip would really fly.

`Sigh. I should have thought about that temper of hers before I started this whole scheme.`

Gwak Jin-mu let out a sigh that could have cracked the ground. He had tried to cook up a scheme to live comfortably for a few months, and now he was in this mess.

`My Monkey Wine. My Monkey Wine. It’s still a brand-new, unopened bottle. I haven’t even tasted it.`

“Senior Brother Gwak?”

“...Wait a moment, Little Junior Sister. I’ll go get it. I thought it would be best to keep it in a cool place, so it’s in the storehouse.”

Gwak Jin-mu’s shoulders slumped. It wasn't as if he could refuse to give it to her, so it seemed better to just give it to her quickly and ask for forgiveness. He left the room with dejected steps.

Cho Gyo-yeon watched him leave with a grim expression. His glittering eyes seemed to bore into the back of his head like a surveillance camera, and Gwak Jin-mu felt a sharp prickling on his back.

`Still, it seems like nothing's wrong. I was so worried.`

As soon as Gwak Jin-mu left the room, she relaxed her fierce expression. A sigh of relief escaped from deep within her chest.

Cho Gyo-yeon had heard some unexpected news during her mission and had rushed back, abandoning her duties. But seeing her Second Senior Brother acting as usual, she finally felt at ease.

Fortunately, Gwak Jin-mu seemed not to have heard any news. He wasn't good at hiding his feelings, so if he had heard, he would have definitely shown some agitation. Of course, he would have tried to hide it, but she, who had followed him around like glue since they were children, would have noticed.

`This is a tricky situation. Master's mood has been bad lately as it is, and this is like pouring oil on the fire.`

Though she usually had no interest in things that didn't concern her, this time was different. It didn't concern her directly, but it was deeply related to Gwak Jin-mu. Knowing both Master’s and her Second Senior Brother’s personalities all too well, she frowned her beautiful face and fell into deep thought. How could she resolve this situation? What was the way to minimize the impact on her Second Senior Brother?

`Ugh. I’m bad at this kind of thing. And I can’t even discuss this with Third Senior Brother.`

She had been thinking about it the whole way back, but no good ideas came to mind. She was good with numbers and had a knack for business, but she had no talent for strategy or politics and was particularly weak in such matters. Her ice-cold Third Senior Brother was an expert in this kind of thing, but this was not a problem she could confide in just anyone. It could become a weakness for her Second Senior Brother, so she had to be careful.

Unable to overcome her anxiety, she bit her lip. Her already petal-red lips puckered slightly. The sight of a beautiful woman in thought was very beautiful to an observer, but the person herself was far from at ease.