Han Seojin untied the rope.
“Huah...”
Blood rushed fiercely into her arms, which had been compressed.
Dang Soran savored that sense of release and the tingling in her entire arms.
This too felt like a reward for her exhausting efforts.
She collapsed onto the floor, her buttocks stinging.
It was definitely lighter than the blows from the belt, yet the reverberation sank deeper than before.
That rough hand that had slapped her buttocks so crudely seemed to still be gripping them.
Dang Soran glanced at Han Seojin, who was preparing to leave.
Or was it just her imagination?
But she had no particular desire to complain.
Now that the play was over, bringing it up again felt inexplicably embarrassing.
Besides, honestly, there had been that inexplicable sensation when his palm firmly gripped her buttocks.
A sharp tingle that flowed from her buttocks to her lower abdomen, then to her heart.
For Dang Soran, who couldn't say she hated it at all, she decided to keep this fact to herself.
Being groped on the buttocks... hadn't been so bad.
It was humiliating to accept, but her body knew the truth.
Then, as the groans of the bandits began to echo around her, Dang Soran snapped back to her senses.
She looked down at her own chest.
“...Ah.”
Surprisingly, it wasn't as exposed as she feared.
Her breasts were covered much more deeply by her clothing than expected.
It was torn, but only torn—the garment itself was still properly fastened.
“...”
With that, Dang Soran felt another strange sense of relief.
In the end, even this time, Han Seojin had only said those things for the sake of the play.
In reality, hadn't he protected her so thoughtfully?
Wasn't it just part of the heart demon treatment, pouring shame on her, but actually safer than she thought?
From that, she could tell how much he had thought of her.
How seriously he had continued the act for the sake of her afflicted self.
Her trust in him deepened.
He really had no intention of completely ruining me.
He didn't want to expose my body to these mountain bandits either.
What he said about me being precious was true too.
Whether from the rope being untied or those thoughts, Dang Soran's heart pounded.
She waited silently until he was ready, not uttering a word.
“Now get up. Let's go. We've done enough... no, because we've done it.”
“...Ah.”
His speech had returned to its formal stiffness.
It always felt strange.
When he dropped the formalities and spoke rudely during the act, it made her bristle at his impudence, but when he resumed his politeness after it ended, that felt lacking too.
“Sp-speak casually. It's fine.”
Dang Soran whispered.
“...I've already seen Young Master's true nature, so hiding it now—”
“—Get up quickly. No weird talk.”
“...”
Dang Soran tried to stand, then looked down at her torn front and said.
“...Carry me.”
“No time for that. Hurry—”
“—Bl-blood is suddenly rushing through my body, making me dizzy. And my chest is still exposed... my arms are numb, I can't even cover it...”
“...”
Han Seojin sighed and turned his back to her.
Dang Soran suppressed the smile threatening to slip out and leaned against his body.
“...”
After a slight hesitation, she pressed her chest fully against his back and settled in comfortably.
“...Wouldn't it be better to straighten your upper body a bit?”
“Why?”
Dang Soran feigned innocence, as if clueless.
The timid Han Seojin, back to his cautious self, didn't drag out the argument this time either.
The two left the mountain stronghold like that.
****
We came down the mountain in our grubby state.
I led the donkey, and Dang Soran rode on it.
She kept rubbing her buttocks, which must have hurt, and that small action kept drawing my attention.
“...Hoo.”
Dawn was breaking.
As the tumultuous night slowly ended, I quietly spoke.
“...Detoxification Immortal Root.”
“...”
Dang Soran paused for a moment, then soon rummaged in her sleeve and handed me the herb root.
I carefully stowed it in my pack and sighed in relief.
Good.
At least Namgung Yeon won't die in Zhongjing.
But my worries weren't fully resolved yet.
I'd obtained the goal, the Detoxification Immortal Root, but delivering it to Namgung Yeon was the problem.
Going directly from here to the Namgung Family would take at least a month, even rushing.
Taking Dang Soran along was out of the question, so I'd have to go alone.
That would spike the risk.
...I hadn't planned to go that far in the first place.
Should I find the Hao Gate in a nearby city instead?
...Ah, but can I trust them? They screwed up once, so no faith there. Don't want to owe them favors either.
Entrusting it to an escort agency for big money would be best, but I didn't have that kind of cash.
...So the best is handing it back to Dang Soran and asking her to send it...
But I didn't trust that woman much anymore either.
A month's time had made that clear.
A reliable ally for Namgung Yeon? Bullshit.
...She's just a spoiled brat who grew up pampered.
Hiding it this long is impressive.
Honestly, if I handed the root back to Dang Soran, I wouldn't be shocked if she chewed it up for fun.
Murim folk.
They grow strong with power, so they're all selfish.
Lacking consideration as societal beings.
Yeah? Back in my day, we all showed consideration to each other and lived...
“...Young Master. Aren't you hungry?”
Dang Soran whined.
Asking for food again. I brushed it off vaguely.
“Boil some porridge a bit later. It's still early dawn; hard to make a fire.”
“Not that—aren't we near Weizhong in Zhongjing?”
“Yeah.”
“Rest there today. Eat something delicious, wash up in warm water, sleep soundly in a nice room. Plus, wouldn't it be better for Young Master to find an escort agency nearby? You're not going all the way to the Namgung Family yourself, right?”
I stared at her in disbelief.
Did she forget getting spanked?
“We lost all the money, how—”
A pleasant sound came from somewhere.
Dang Soran pulled a small pouch from her bosom and smirked smugly.
“Young Master is so petty. Just because I teased you a bit, you went digging in my pouch.”
“...Huh?”
“But if there's anyone better at sleight of hand than the Beggars' Sect... it's us, the Tang Clan of Sichuan, right?”
Dang Soran pulled out a silver ingot from the pouch.
I was floored, speechless.
She already knew all my crimes?
...I was the one being fooled?
The guilt I'd felt all this time...?
The food I shared? The dishes I had to wash...?
All my past hardships... were just a slum experience for Dang Soran?
“Pfft... Puh!”
Dang Soran couldn't hold back her laughter.
“Do you know how fun it was watching Young Master squirm with guilt all this time?”
“...”
“Haa... Young Master.”
She wiped tears from her eyes and said.
“Let's go eat something delicious.”
****
When the sun passed midday, Dang Soran and Han Seojin arrived in Weizhong.
But they couldn't enter the city boldly.
Even Dang Soran, backed by the Tang Clan of Sichuan name, couldn't stroll into Weizhong looking so grubby, dirty, and with her front torn.
If no one recognized her face, it might be fine, but in such a large city, it was unlikely no one knew her.
Plus, her beauty alone drew eyes wherever she went, making concealment even harder.
So they used spare clothes from Han Seojin.
His outer robe, infused with his scent, wrapped snugly around her fair face.
That alone dispersed the surrounding gazes quite well.
People's interest fades quickly once the face is hidden.
“Bear with it just a bit longer.”
Aware it was dirty clothing, Han Seojin said to Dang Soran.
He held the donkey's reins and led slowly ahead.
Dang Soran, riding the donkey, looked down at Han Seojin, who seemed like her servant.
...It would have been great if he really became a retainer of the Tang Family like this.
“...”
But she quickly shook off that greed.
Hadn't she learned from getting spanked yesterday? He wasn't someone she could hold onto like that.
Even now, it looked like a servant leading his master, but Dang Soran personally felt otherwise.
Less like a servant attending his owner... more like a strong, reliable man protecting his woman.
To shake off her shy feelings, Dang Soran said.
“By the way, was this really the best? Wrapping your stinky clothes around my face. Does that make sense?”
“With so many people around, is it okay to keep speaking casually?”
“Are you worried for me?”
“...”
Dang Soran smiled, but her face was already flushed.
Even a slight breath let her smell Han Seojin's scent.
Fitting for a poor Leather Room owner from beggar origins—harsh and pungent.
Once, she would have shaken her head in disgust.
If she caught a whiff while walking, she'd have griped about who reeked so badly.
“...Haa...”
“Yes?”
“N-no, nothing.”
But not now.
No matter how rough and worn the scent, this aroma lingering at her nose was suffocatingly familiar—and sweet.
She didn't hate this pungent smell at all.
Quite the opposite—it was too good.
Why was that? Her mind couldn't comprehend.
A unique fragrance of Han Seojin alone, impossible to mimic with any herb, poison, food, or flower.
Dang Soran pondered briefly, then made an excuse.
“Phew... It feels like it'll unravel, so I'll keep it on a bit longer.”
“Do that without saying anything.”
She pressed the fabric even deeper against her face deliberately.
Indeed, the clothes were worn, the smell intense.
Yet she didn't stop.
Dang Soran of the great Tang Clan of Sichuan was seeking out that pungent scent first, dirtying her own face.
In bustling Weizhong, unbeknownst to anyone, committing such an embarrassing act.
“...Haa...”
Dang Soran finally lowered her head and slowly hunched on the donkey.
“Why?”
“...N-no, nothing.”
Her mouth said that, but she knew.
...Memories of last night resurfaced again.
Embarrassing, humiliating, something she didn't want to admit.
But that man's scent was driving her mad, making her burn.
****
“I-I'll go request bathwater and a room. Young Master... stable the donkey.”
For some reason, the huddled Dang Soran darted into the upscale inn like she was fleeing.
I stretched casually and moved to do as she said.
Taking the donkey behind the upscale inn, various horses and donkeys were already there.
Even in the Central Plains, rich people are plentiful, huh.
Why so many horses?
Mine's just this one donkey, bought by the Hao Gate.
“Don't feel down.”
Having grown attached to the donkey, I patted its scrawny rear to cheer it up.
...Doing that made me think of Dang Soran's buttocks.
Human butts definitely feel good to spank.
Soft, springy... plump.
...But that was Dang Soran's butt.
“...Eww.”
Complicated feelings.
The first woman's butt I touched after falling into the Central Plains was Dang Soran's?
That precious lady's butt?
Honestly, aside from my sore palm, I'd have kneaded it forever, but now sane, it seems utterly insane.
Whether Dang Soran was embarrassed or that's her kink, I was amazed at how she acted like nothing happened.
I looked down at my palm.
It felt insanely good... but thinking of the aftermath makes it insanely scary.
Since when did SM require risking your life...?
“You there, a merchant?”
Just as I was tying the donkey to a post.
A middle-aged man in fine clothes approached me.
Long beard oiled and groomed. Thick belly. Fingers laden with rings.
Obviously rich.
“...Who are you.”
Now, I bristled at such people on sight.
Not the first or second time I'd been burned.
“A merchant based in Weizhong here. New face, so thought I'd greet you. So, are you a merchant?”
“W-well... trying my best.”
“Bian Biyeon of Changhwa Merchant Group.”
The man clasped his hands in greeting.
I returned a casual clasp.
“Han Seojin.”
Bian Biyeon, as he introduced himself, read my expression and chuckled.
“I don't know your life, but seems you've been fooled plenty. Can't trust my words?”
“Not that... just cautious since you approached suddenly.”
“A merchant's strength is connections. No need to guard so when I'm neither asking nor offering.”
...I've got the Detoxification Immortal Root in my pack.
And yeah, I've been had before.
“Young hero Han, if it's uncomfortable, I'll go. See you next time.”
Bian Biyeon neither got angry nor offended.
With a kindly chuckle, as if sorry for taking my time, he turned.
“Wait.”
I called back the departing Bian Biyeon.
He left readily, no ulterior motives apparent, and I felt bad for being prickly.
Plus, looking so wealthy, probably a real merchant.
The Hao Gate, infamous for hiding identities, had no reason to fool me now.
“No, I was overly guarded.”
“Haha, well... understandable, but constant wariness tires you out. Nothing else—just curious what you're selling.”
Bian Biyeon eyed the packs on the donkey with sparkling eyes.
The middle-aged man wore the expression of a child unwrapping parents' gifts.
His passion shone in his gaze.
Was I like that making SM gear?
It appealed, so I asked.
“Want to see?”
“Of course.”
With some time left, I carefully unpacked the goods there.
Things I'd meant to sell if opportunity arose.
Bian Biyeon rummaged through my gear.
“Ropes, cords... hmm, leather goods? Good quality. You handle leather well.”
“Only skill I have.”
“Oh... no, full of care. Finishing is artistic. But... this shape isn't efficient?”
I was surprised.
“You see that too?”
“Clearly. But... why bother with such details? Especially this rope.”
He held up the rope I'd used on Dang Soran.
“...What's with this perverted rope?”
“...Pardon?”
I flinched, body trembling.
“Why put such effort into one rope? Soft as silk. What's a rope this soft for?”
“Ah. W-well... just...”
Then, Bian Biyeon eyed one item questioningly.
“Hmm?”
“Ah.”
I knew what he'd found and startled slightly.
He lifted my two masterpieces.
“...This...? Gloves...? No, too long...”
Black arm sleeves.
Leather covering from hand to above elbow in one piece.
“This too? Shoes? Odd shape.”
Black leg boots.
These go from foot to above thigh.
And when worn snug, the thigh flesh bulging at the hem is adorable.
...Outfits made from reverse bunny girl fantasies.
Earning money wasn't empty talk.
How long to stay poor?
Forever? I'd be alone forever.
Guys my age in the village were marrying one by one—how long must I wait?
I want to make money somehow.
Meet a decent woman and settle down.
Tired of beggar mockery.
Thus, my masterpieces.
No need for full SM.
No man hates sexy women.
But? After the brothel, I saw how lucrative.
...Couldn't enjoy, but smelled the scent.
What brothel has three floors—low, mid, high class?
Money reeked.
“...What is this, young hero Han? All new to me.”
I smacked my lips and approached Bian Biyeon.
Gesturing him close, I whispered secretively.
“Gear I made. Thinking of selling at brothels.”
Bian Biyeon lowered his voice too.
“...Brothels? Why take this to brothels? Can't block swords with it.”
“Not warrior gear. Courtesan clothes.”
“Courtesans...?”
“Imagine dressing courtesans in this—haughty yet vulnerable, right?”
“Over clothes, it won't hide soft skin—”
“—No. Strip them, then dress in this. Worn during relations too.”
“...!!”
“Can't you picture courtesans blushing in shame wearing it?”
“...”
“To cover better than bare hands, make them cover with this—better view.”
“...”
“Surprisingly harmonious with skin tones—black leather on a courtesan with porcelain-white skin? Can't imagine how perfect?”
Bian Biyeon's stern face was flushed.
Smacking lips, clearly fantasies swirling in his head.
After stiffening awhile, Bian Biyeon cleared his throat, stroking his beard.
“You got time?”