“...Praise... right?”
Even as she said it, she couldn’t believe herself.
She was someone who had never asked anything of anyone.
She had never begged for praise like this, not even from the Sect Leader.
But this time, she couldn’t hold back.
That command Han Seojin had given her.
The way she had followed it without a word.
The indescribable trembling that came after.
The chilling sensations crawling through her bones.
This was a side of herself she couldn’t show anyone.
What would Senior Sister Hye-yul say if she saw her like this?
How gleefully would Baekhui crack her sunflower seeds?
What about the Sect Leader? Her master?
The three generations of disciples who had looked up to her?
To be insulted by the Leather Room’s owner and even crave his praise.
The gazes that would return if this got out— just imagining them made it hard to breathe.
It was a future she wouldn’t want to face even in death.
And yet, strangely, those thoughts kept stimulating her.
The repulsive, lowly sensations... wriggling deep in her chest.
The contradictory sense of liberation was so vivid that her self-loathing made her legs tremble.
That was why.
That was why she had clung to him with those words.
She desperately wanted words that would affirm this disgusting version of herself.
The candle flame flickered.
Between the light and shadows, Han Seojin’s face faintly appeared and vanished repeatedly.
Cheongwol, looking pathetic as she begged for praise, added an excuse as if to justify her wretched state.
“...I-I didn’t want to say it, but you told me to—”
—Step.
In that instant, Han Seojin took a step closer.
“...”
Her mouth shut on its own.
The hand clutching him slipped away limply.
One step, then another.
As he drew nearer, her heart tightened in tandem.
What would he say?
He had promised to praise her, but Cheongwol’s heart still wavered in anxiety.
If he betrayed her now, she would probably crumble beyond repair.
If he responded with a mocking, “You actually did it just because I told you to?”, she might even burst into angry tears.
It was that much of a stretch for her to say it.
Words that would never have left her mouth otherwise.
It was a weakness she had offered up first.
A weakness that would be fatally damaging if attacked.
...And yet, knowing that, why had she done it?
Even she didn’t know.
But the words were already out; she couldn’t take them back.
Han Seojin smiled.
“...I told you to say it three times.”
“...!”
At those words, cracks began to form in Cheongwol’s heart—
“—But it was still a little pretty.”
—But her breath caught at what followed.
“...Especially since you tried so hard.”
The moment she slowly mulled over his words.
...Her body shuddered.
Ah.
This was the sensation.
Her fingertips trembling, toes curling, lips going numb...
The exact sensation she had kept recalling since her first experience.
Hearing his praise made it feel like the weight on her shoulders lightened.
Not because she was the Emei Sect’s Thousand-Year Flower being called pretty, not because she was the righteous faction’s rising star being called good.
...It was as if he was saying it was okay to be the filthy, vulgar woman Cheongwol.
That was why it felt so reassuring.
But it was a little lacking.
...Is this it?
The relief was as ambiguous as the praise, coming and going vaguely.
She couldn’t show it, but Cheongwol realized she had been expecting praise on the level of last time.
She had tried so hard, but this was all?
It wasn’t anywhere near the level she had imagined in her head.
Last time, he had showered her with so many words just for gagging her mouth with a single cloth.
While Cheongwol flinched, Han Seojin turned his body and said calmly.
“Say it two more times.”
As if nothing had happened, he started walking toward the stairs.
Cheongwol felt a bit indignant that she was the only one shaken.
“Say it two more times, and then I’ll tell you how really pretty you are.”
“...”
“...Really pretty.”
Her heart skipped a beat at those words.
It was just as she expected, but still... cruel words.
Like taking just one bite of food when starving, only making the hunger worse.
His praise was the same.
The praise he gave while she felt this massive humiliation was too scant, too vague... making her crave more.
It was nowhere near enough to offset the shame she felt.
She couldn’t stop now.
Stopping now would leave her miserable and finished.
Receiving vague praise, vague acknowledgment, left with an unresolved heart and stifling shame.
...But if she pushed just a little further.
If she tried just a little harder, all the rewards awaited at the end.
It felt like he was dangling a carrot right in front of her eyes.
The one silver lining was that she was gradually getting used to this atmosphere.
Words she could never say outside were becoming a bit easier here, bit by bit.
****
I tried to stay composed, but it wasn’t as easy as it sounded.
My heart pounded.
I had found a masochist in the martial world.
I had discovered someone with the same inclinations as me.
A being whose existence I couldn’t even be sure of... a unicorn to me.
How boring it had been since falling into this world.
I already knew all the big news that would shock the Central Plains people, so nothing surprised me.
No people, no events, not even the slightest hardship—just quiet times.
The boredom overflowed; I had all sorts of fantasies, made various contraptions, researched, assembled worlds in my head to endure.
I even had frequent dreams. Dreams of SM play with obedient, demure Central Plains women.
This wasn’t just sexual preference but disposition; jerking off once wouldn’t quench the thirst.
I kept thirsting. Hoping somewhere in this Central Plains world there might be someone with the same disposition. No real expectations.
With my back to Cheongwol, I covered my face with my hands.
I couldn’t tell what my expression was doing.
Probably flushed with excitement.
People get thrilled just finding someone with the same hobby.
A strange sense of kinship forms from someone else liking the food you love.
It’s so easy to bond over sharing similar tastes.
...But same sexual preference—no, disposition?
Hobbies you can shout about, yet hard to find matches for.
The most difficult to speak of, most secretly hidden disposition... and I found someone who matches?
And Cheongwol, who seemed like she’d suit sadism... turns out she can stand on my opposite side as a masochist?
Me convex, her concave?
“...Haa... haa...”
To me, who only got rowdy with the Beggars’ Sect uncles and had no one else close.
...No one could understand the shock of a masochist appearing.
“...Hng... whoo...”
Then, regaining my senses, I took deep breaths to calm my mind.
...Get a grip.
Get a grip!!
Cheongwol, it’s Cheongwol!!
Even if her cruel nature hasn’t emerged yet, someday the demon inside her will burst out.
Finding a masochist is great, but I don’t want to die from lust!
Right now, she lives at Emei Sect with a similar range, so we interact closely, but later the entire Central Plains will tremble at her presence.
I’ll just be weeds forever, while she’s a dragon’s offspring.
Levels completely different.
Later, my death might depend on her mood.
Thinking about it that way...
“...”
I glanced at Cheongwol.
...She seemed to be questioning her own masochistic tendencies too.
...Thinking about it that way, I had to realize how absurd this situation was.
So get a grip, please.
I thought this before too...!
The moment you cross the line, bewitched by that beauty, it’s goodbye world.
I need to live long!
...But the problem was, it wasn’t just her looks—her actions were bewitching me too.
That was the part I hadn’t anticipated.
The haughty Cheongwol gradually becoming compliant... the subtle excitement now visible in her eyes stimulated me.
She was an Emei Sect nun who vowed to avoid men her whole life.
Even as the Life-Pursuing Ghost, she never lost her grace or femininity.
Seeing her change bit by bit according to my script gave strange sensations.
Feeling disgusted with herself and starting to rely on me instead—it drew me in.
Greed kept surging...
“...”
I blinked again.
Get a grip!
It felt like dozing off in a freezing snowy mountain, eyes heavy with sleep.
My heart was already swept away, but my head knew I shouldn’t.
Right now, follow reason.
Stick to the plan.
One relieving part: the risk of death in future play has decreased.
Her being ‘that side’ means she’s faintly finding pleasure in the depravity amid this shame.
It’s not an act she purely rejects.
The one snag in the plan: ramping up intensity to drive her away might be harder now.
If she’s a masochist, she might enjoy the escalating intensity.
...Fortunately, I included the clause that she shouldn’t come for ten days after one visit.
That’ll maintain some distance.
We won’t get too close.
No matter if she’s a masochist, I’ll pass on a ticking bomb.
Like how you can’t jerk off with relatives in the living room, even if you want to.
...This crazy masochist is scary.
Think of it as good luck instead.
Learning through Cheongwol that masochistic types exist in this martial world, when I wasn’t even sure they did—that’s a huge gain.
She gave me hope.
Really, somewhere out there.
There might be an obedient, demure Central Plains masochist woman?
A non-martial artist masochist could exist.
So just endure.
Until the heart demon in Cheongwol awakens and she betrays her sect someday.
Until she leaves this area.
Until I naturally part from her.
Just hold out until then.
If my memory’s right, it won’t be long before she crumbles.
Found a masochist, but curb the greed.
We’re not going to be an SM couple.