Time came around, and I walked boldly toward the main gate of the Tang Clan of Sichuan.
But bold in words only—honestly, I was pretty scared deep down.
Am I going to be okay?
Tang Clan of Sichuan.
I looked up at the gleaming golden characters on the plaque.
Standing before it, my ragged clothes felt even more pathetic.
“What business brings you?”
A Tang Clan warrior guarding the gate asked as he eyed me.
I pulled a single invitation from my bosom and showed it to him.
“This way, please.”
I was inwardly impressed by his formal demeanor.
Even with the Clan Leader’s handwritten note, it couldn’t have been easy to use honorifics right away with a beggar like me.
The warrior led me before an elderly woman.
That was the moment I realized this clan had more meticulous procedures than expected.
I’d thought I’d just quickly meet the Poison King, but there were clearly steps before facing him.
And the more complex these procedures, the more I felt anew just how exalted the Poison King was.
“I am Heo Okryeon of the Tang Clan of Sichuan.”
“Oh my.”
At the old woman’s introduction, I immediately bowed and cupped my fists.
Heo Okryeon was the nanny who had raised not only Dang Soran and her siblings, but even the Poison King himself.
No blood ties, yet no one blended more seamlessly with the Tang Clan of Sichuan.
Her name had come up so often that I remembered it well.
Heo Okryeon didn’t show it outwardly, but she seemed subtly pleased by my courtesy.
“Before meeting the Clan Leader, you must first make yourself presentable.”
“Yes?”
“Your whole body is caked in dust, your clothes are in tatters, your hair is a wild mess... and even your beard is unkempt. It would be improper to appear before the Clan Leader like this.”
...What a hassle.
But I couldn’t say that.
I just nodded endlessly.
Surrounded by the clan’s servants as we walked, I ran into Cheongwol, who was practicing her cultivation.
Her neck glistened with sweat.
Her hair clung limply to her face.
...She was just beautiful.
Seeing her among the Tang Clan servants made it feel safe to admire her—maybe that’s why?
I felt anew how beautiful she was.
“Huh?”
Cheongwol spotted me too and looked startled.
She covered her mouth and nose with her sleeve, perhaps embarrassed by her sweaty appearance.
But her eyes wouldn’t leave me.
I gazed at her for a long while before looking ahead again.
After that, it was time to tidy up.
They trimmed my hair and beard, and I checked the mirror.
“Yes. This is the best we can do. It’s hard to bring out more of your features than this.”
Heo Okryeon said.
...Hmm, the nuance was like, “We’ve salvaged your ugly face as much as possible, so be satisfied”?
Whatever. It didn’t matter. I liked my face anyway, and it felt neat and satisfactory now.
Next came the bath.
I soaked in a warm tub and scrubbed my body.
Tang Clan servants came in to wash me, but I refused vehemently.
I wasn’t ready for that yet.
Next were the clothes.
Various outfits made of fine silk.
Just rubbing them in my hands drew out a quiet gasp of admiration.
The colors were so vibrant and fitting—anything would look good.
“Can I wear this one—”
“Ow!”
As I reached for one outfit, Heo Okryeon smacked the back of my hand.
The more time passed, the more this granny revealed her true colors.
She treated me more casually and bossily as we went along.
But it didn’t displease me that much.
She clicked her tongue.
“That outfit doesn’t suit you at all, Young Master. With your dark skin, wearing such a flashy sky-blue would just scream tacky. Did you come all this way to act like a beggar? Better to go with black to accentuate your manly build, then drape a red or gold sash over it. That’ll give you real dignity.”
I didn’t mind partly because it felt like she was thinking of me.
It was the classic tsundere granny vibe.
And I knew just how to handle a granny like this.
“Oh, you’re right. Granny, you’ve got quite the eye.”
As I flirted in the new outfit, the surrounding servants gasped in unison.
But Heo Okryeon just raised the corners of her eyes in a sharp smile.
“I’ve raised plenty of Tang Clan men with these hands. You think this is beyond me?”
Heo Okryeon tapped my back and arms, then nodded.
“Good build means the clothes fit like they were made for you.”
“Clothes make the man. Thank you.”
Heo Okryeon smiled again, but I meant it sincerely too.
Going from rags to this fine black attire felt like an unemployed guy slipping into a suit.
And suits? I had a bit of a fantasy about them.
In SM, clothes are never just simple decorations.
They complete the atmosphere and etch power and submission even more vividly.
For an M, it’s mostly shameful outfits.
Lingerie. Underwear only.
Sheer. Fishnets.
Why? Because even though they’re wearing clothes, visually nothing’s covered.
Without the S’s permission, they shouldn’t have the freedom to hide their body.
Sometimes a leather harness.
Not clothes—just restraints.
Sometimes cosplay.
School uniform, maid outfit, bunny suit, reverse bunny...
It concretizes the commanded role in role-play. Visualizes obedience and submission.
Conversely, the S wears more imposing clothes.
The well-known one is leather.
Especially the image of a woman in a full-body catsuit dominating a man—it’s iconic for SM.
But not everyone does that.
I think leather became the common image because it’s so unique and memorable.
Women often wear leather.
It suits symbolizing a queen.
But a man in full-body leather?
...It’s just plain weird.
I wouldn’t want it either.
I get that we have to cater to masochists, but that doesn’t mean I want to wrap myself in leather.
It’s not even common.
Men have an outfit that most clearly exudes authority.
That’s the suit.
So if an S woman drapes herself in leather to show absolute elegance,
An S man dons a suit to perfect dignity and gravitas.
Or wears nothing at all.
Sitting there naked might seem silly, but it’s cool.
A sharply tailored suit, one hand in the pocket.
Naked masochist kneeling, arms bound behind the back, leash attached...
...There’s this thrilling shiver that tickles the chest.
I examined the black clothes I was wearing again.
Not a suit at all—just martial robes, but neat and tidy.
The red sash at the waist added a nice accent.
It inexplicably brought out a sense of dignity.
That’s why it kept feeling like I was wearing a suit.
I was quite satisfied with that.
“How much for clothes like these?”
I asked Heo Okryeon.
“Why do you ask?”
“Just curious how much they’d cost to buy...”
“We’ll give them to you. Take them.”
“Yes?”
“The Clan Leader said you’re an honored guest. We have to treat you accordingly.”
“...Oh.”
At those words, I felt joy at getting the clothes for free, and relief that at least the Poison King wouldn’t kill me.
“Finally, here.”
Heo Okryeon handed me a long cloth.
“...What’s this?”
Lately, the only cloths like this I’d seen were used to gag mouths, so it felt weird.
“Don’t you know a headband? Wrap it around your forehead.”
“Ah. So this is a headband.”
It looked a bit different from the ones I’d worn before, so I was confused for a second.
As I sat and wrapped the headband around my forehead, Heo Okryeon tied my hair for me.
When it was done, admirations rose from around us.
‘Now he looks the part.’
‘He was definitely shabby before, but now he’s got some presence.’
‘Clothes really are wings, wings.’
I couldn’t tell if they meant it or were just being polite.
But my mood was definitely uplifted.
All this for free, just to meet someone once. Great service.
Heo Okryeon gave her final appraisal.
“You look like a proper young lord now.”
Only after everything was done did I finally head to the Clan Leader’s chambers.
Heo Okryeon spoke at the door.
“Clan Leader. Young Master Han Seojin has arrived.”
‘Come in.’
The doors parted to both sides.
Inside sat Dang Jeokcheon.
I cupped my fists immediately.
“I heard you summoned me.”
“Hm. Tidied up, you look somewhat decent. Come in.”
As I entered, the doors closed behind me.
There was a chair where Dang Jeokcheon gestured, and I sat without a word.
He got straight to the point.
“You’ve probably guessed already. You were right. Wi Cheonsang... that bastard was tailing Baek Sahyeon.”
“...Yes.”
“How did you know?”
I took a deep breath. It was a question I’d half-expected.
So, stick to the plan.
“Less ‘knew’ and more like I had a bad feeling about him.”
“A feeling, huh.”
Dang Jeokcheon chuckled lightly and repeated himself just like before.
“What a convenient excuse, isn’t it?”
“...”
“Fine. Wi Cheonsang was a spy, Jegal Yong a coward. What about Namgung Yeon? Why did she oppose it?”
“...She didn’t oppose as strongly as the other two, but I didn’t think Dang Soran and the Namgung Young Master would suit each other.”
“No major issues with Namgung Yeon?”
“Yes. I think of the Namgung Young Lady as a good person.”
No need to make the Poison King hostile toward Namgung Yeon for no reason.
The Poison King nodded and said,
“Not your merit exactly, but I convey my thanks. You definitely worked hard for our Soran.”
“No, no. Just did what needed doing.”
“You really have no interest in our Soran?”
“She’s attractive, but... I wouldn’t dare.”
“Cautious beyond your courage—excessively realistic.”
The Poison King continued leisurely.
“Actually, there’s one thing I must apologize for.”
“To me?”
“Yes. I had the Hao Gate investigate your background.”
My heart froze for a split second, but I wasn’t entirely without backing.
“As I said, I don’t easily believe in ‘feelings.’ Your suspicion of Wi Cheonsang nagged at me. Soran treating you like a friend was concerning too. Who knows—you might be a spy from another evil sect.”
“...”
“But you were astonishingly ordinary. Running a leather shop on the outskirts of Mount Emei, lately trying to sell goods here and there. A rare, upstanding young man.”
Relief washed over me, and I smiled.
But the Poison King apologized.
“My apologies.”
“...No, it’s fine.”
I let out a sigh of relief.
Yes, this was the best part of being on good terms with the Hao Gate.
Even the Hao Gate was watching over me now.
If I hadn’t cozied up to them, my SM play with Cheongwol and Dang Soran might’ve all come out.
“Even so, there’s one thing I truly want to ask.”
“Please, go ahead.”
“Did you cure Soran’s heart demon?”
“...”
Even this was within expectations.
Dang Soran had already told me she’d mentioned it.
There was only one thing I needed to say here.
“No. Lady Soran overcame it on her own. How could I, no martial artist, resolve a heart demon? I don’t even know what the ‘heart’ in heart demon means.”
“But couldn’t your ‘feeling’ have helped?”
“Didn’t you say you don’t believe in feelings?”
“As Clan Leader, no. But as a desperate father, I want to believe anything.”
...This guy’s nuts. Almost touched me there.
But I had to deny it.
Sure, Dang Soran was a masochist, and SM play dissolved her heart demon.
But admitting that now? Strutting around as the heart demon doctor? What if she meets a normal guy?
Or another man?
Tell her to do SM with normal folks or other men?
I’d die before doing that.
I’d probably die if I did.
If I tried training a male martial artist, wouldn’t he just kill me?
The rest of the conversation focused on my background.
Parents’ status, ties to Beggars’ Sect folks, business situation, future plans.
Only after all that did the Poison King pull something from his pocket.
It looked extraordinary at a glance.
“My nameplate.”
A heavy jade plaque exuding authority.
My mouth half-gaped open unwittingly.
“I don’t fully trust you yet, but I am grateful for now. You ran around for Soran, and regardless of truth, she credits you for overcoming her heart demon... This much is warranted.”
“Cl-Clan Leader.”
“Use it when needed. Don’t worry about it being taken. Only three in the Central Plains hold my nameplate now. Anyone else with it will pay dearly.”
The Poison King’s nameplate.
“...”
...But where do I even use this?
I’m no martial artist—a beggar punk flashing the Poison King’s nameplate? Who’d believe it?
Pushing aside such impure thoughts, I tucked the nameplate into my bosom.
The Poison King stood and saw me off.
“It’s late. Thanks for coming today. We’ll meet again, so let’s talk more then.”
“...Ideally, I’d prefer not to cross paths much.”
“Why?”
“Nothing good comes from tangling with martial artists.”
The Poison King laughed heartily and patted my back.
I cupped my fists and left his room.
After the long talk, the sky had already dimmed to dusk.
Heo Okryeon was quietly waiting at the door.
“Well then. Shall we head out?”
How long had we walked?
In that moment, a figure blocked our path like a shadow.
“Nanny.”
“...Lady Soran.”
It was Dang Soran.
She glanced past me fleetingly, then turned to Heo Okryeon and spoke.
“I have something to discuss privately with Young Master Seojin, so I’ll take him?”
****
Dang Soran hadn’t recognized him at first.
And from the moment she did, her heart raced so hard she couldn’t even look at him.
Who the hell was this jade kirin?
She finally understood the feelings of the women trailing after Jegal Yong.
She couldn’t dare meet his gaze.
Her chest itched strangely, her breath quickened.
A sensation she’d never felt before—she didn’t even know its name.
And to be such close friends with a being like this. To have shown him every side of her.
The reality was hard to believe.
First, hide it quick. That’s what she had to do.
So, head bowed, eyes only on Heo Okryeon, she spoke.
“Young Master Seojin and I have something to discuss privately, so I’ll take him?”
...She just wanted to get to her room fast.
And thinking of what would happen there mixed anticipation and excitement, heating her body.
****
From a distance, Cheongwol watched Dang Soran’s figure.