...So this is as far as I go.
Yeah. My instincts were spot on after all.
That bitch Cheongwol—you were planning to kill me back in that basement, weren't you?
That glare you shot me as you stood up from the wall. It was the same look I saw on the back mountain of Mount Emei.
Not the Emei Sect's Cheongwol, but the Life-Pursuing Ghost Cheongwol.
That day, you made up your mind to kill me, and I got lucky and escaped.
What I overlooked, though, was her obsessive drive for murder.
It wasn't some fixation unique to martial artists.
She'll chase down anyone who holds a grudge against her, just like me.
"...Hah."
With death right in front of me, my mind cleared up sharp.
My hands and body trembled, but my desires grew even more insistent.
I grabbed another bottle from the table and wet my throat.
If I'm going down, might as well savor the booze first.
Kyah. I really stepped in it big time that day.
Cheongwol the bitch is finally going to kill me.
Dragging in Dang Soran, making her play along, getting pissed when it didn't suit me...
Whatever. Just drink.
The fiery burn of the poisoned liquor scorched my throat, but I chugged it anyway.
My head's about to roll—what's a little pain?
"...Whew."
"..."
But no matter how long I waited, Cheongwol didn't slit my throat.
Enough time had passed for the panic-driven rationality from my escape to fully return.
...Cheongwol just sat there beside me, motionless.
Like bracing yourself, muscles tensed and breath held, expecting a beating any second—only for the teacher to never swing.
Sweat started beading on my palms.
...What? Why?
Weren't you here to kill me?
If not, what's the point of me running into you here?
Showing up like some assassin...
"...Not gonna answer?"
Then, out of nowhere, Cheongwol spoke up.
"Answer...?"
What answer does she need?
Cheongwol glared at me with those fierce eyes.
I averted my gaze without thinking.
"I asked if you ran all the way from Mount Emei just to do this."
...Is she trying to talk?
That changes things.
I'd given up expecting a quick slash to the throat, but if she's giving me even a chance to exchange words, I've got no reason to refuse.
My greed for life sprouted back up like weeds.
My mind raced in an instant.
Yeah. Don't give up! Fight to live!
I've clawed my way through the Central Plains—how could I throw it all away over one bitch like Cheongwol?
That'd be too unfair!
Luckily, silently downing my drink made me look more composed and carefree.
Rule one of negotiation: always act confident.
"Run?"
I set the bottle down and spoke.
"Who from, and why would I run?"
"...If you didn't run, then why come all the way to Chengdu?"
No reason. You're right—I'm running. Spot on.
I went a bit overboard last time, sure. But you were pretty rude too. What masochist puts a sadist in that kind of spot...
...No, can't say that.
It was a run, but I'm desperately playing dumb.
A spur-of-the-moment excuse bubbled up.
"I came to check how far my goods sell."
"What?"
"You know my reputation from Mount Emei. Orphan origins, poor Leather Room owner. Even your junior sisters said my peers mock me, called me hopeless for marriage."
"..."
"But I don't want to live poor forever. Don't want to live lonely forever either. I've scraped by doing business on Mount Emei for years, still dirt poor—so of course I'd seek a way out. It's not like I have no ambitions. I want good food, a nice place to live. I don't have the confidence to live possessionless like you Emei folk."
"..."
At my words, Cheongwol's expression strangely softened.
Time to press the advantage.
I raised my voice just a touch, testing.
"And you chased me all the way to Chengdu just to ask that? I'm quite flustered."
Cheongwol turned her head slightly away.
"...Chase? I had business in Chengdu too."
"...?"
"You know the Tang Clan is hosting a gathering for later-generation disciples. I was just invited."
"Ah."
...Yeah, I know. But why would you join? You're definitely...
Right, she won the spar. Didn't show off Extermination Sword.
No seclusion either, so she could come to this gathering.
Whoa... This is flowing so differently from the future I knew.
So she's participating in that gathering?
I imagined the scene for a moment.
"..."
Why does it feel like it'll turn into total chaos? For the future, that gathering needs to bond tightly...?
...Is this another butterfly effect I caused?
Whatever. Don't think about it now.
What matters is Cheongwol right in front of me.
"So you came for the gathering."
"...Yeah."
"Then why come all the way here instead of focusing on that..."
"What?"
Cheongwol looked offended again at my words.
But I only asked what I had to.
"Whether I whore around or play around, what business is it of yours?"
At that, Cheongwol's lips twitched faintly. Then, in a quiet whisper...
"...We're... friends."
Question marks popped up in my head.
Since when were you and I friends?
What friend paces anxiously fearing death at another's hands?
But even so, the doubt remained the same.
"But... so?"
"Huh?"
"...Ah. I mean... a friend going to a brothel isn't something you'd worry about..."
Cheongwol's gaze shook every which way.
"Huh? So... uh... eek... uh?"
She stuttered like a broken machine. But to me, it looked even stranger.
What's wrong with her, seriously...!
****
She hadn't expected to be called out like this when acting on her anger.
But when Han Seojin pointed out the contradiction, Cheongwol had nothing to say.
What business is it of mine?
And yet, when she heard he might go to a brothel, why had she been so furious?
"..."
She had no words for it, but that contradictory emotion still gripped her.
No reason. Just hated it.
The mere thought of Han Seojin in this brothel, flashing that lewd grin while mingling with courtesans.
If she hadn't come... would he have stripped another woman?
Poured her liquor?
And after that...?
The idea infuriated and horrified her.
This emotion, defying explanation, only tormented Cheongwol more.
Especially since she couldn't even muster a proper excuse.
So she blurted out tangled words, forcing it.
"...Y-You're throwing away my heart demon treatment for a cheap dive like this—how could I not care?"
Not entirely wrong.
With Han Seojin gone, her heart demon had regressed at a rapid pace.
But Han Seojin was unfazed.
"If you'd waited, I'd have returned to Mount Emei properly. Couldn't hold out, huh? I'm not even your personal physician."
"...Eek!"
"Not to be rude, but I've been helping for free. This is like pulling a drowning man from the water only to demand his bundle."
Cheongwol had entered the room to give Han Seojin a piece of her mind.
But opening the lid, she was the one getting scolded.
Her suppressed heart demon stirred, poking through the cracks in her heart.
"...Still."
Her low voice made even Han Seojin shut up for a moment.
"E-even so, if a physician paws at wounds with filthy hands, wouldn't anyone get mad?"
"..."
"In this brothel, this vile place... doing cheap, dirty deeds, then forcing weird orders on a nun like me—think that'd make me happy?"
"...Uh... well... that's..."
This pathetic owner wouldn't know.
How much rage she was holding back right now.
Her dantian awakened on its own, vibrating as qi flowed through her meridians.
An inexplicable sensation enveloped her body.
Bluish qi rose like threads over Cheongwol's skin.
Had her anger pushed her past the first-rate mid-stage wall?
Maybe her martial cultivation was advancing right now.
But she had no spare attention for that.
It'd been ages since she'd been this dizzy with rage—and even longer since suppressing it so hard.
The frustration was worse without even knowing why.
"Huh? Owner...!"
"..."
Han Seojin glanced at her, then picked up the bottle again.
Cheongwol snatched it away—she wanted to talk, not let him drown in booze.
His intent to just drink annoyed her even more.
Toward him smacking his lips, Cheongwol finally unleashed her hidden feelings.
"And besides... and besides...!"
Her voice trembled at the end.
"Last time, you only had eyes for Dang Soran...! So... it kept building up and buil—"
"—Haaah."
A long, heavy, dramatic sigh.
It cut Cheongwol off cold.
She glared at him with displeasure-laced eyes, lips parting to retort—
"—Wol-ah."
Thud. That short word.
It felt like her patience snapped—and it sealed Cheongwol's mouth.
This dim brothel room felt like the Leather Room basement.
A sudden shift in hierarchy.
The timid, poor, easy-to-ignore man wrinkled up like old paper was gone.
...Replaced by the domineering figure issuing crude orders.
"...Your tone's a bit rude today, isn't it?"