Possession.
A word she never imagined anyone would say to her.
The towering, precarious self-esteem she had built up over time crumbled in an instant at those words.
Me, a possession?
Cheongwol mulled over the words.
She, who had chased after the Sect Leader's dignified bearing, aspiring to become a respected heroine...
...had come full circle to end up as one man's possession.
It was revolting enough to make her retch, and just as humiliating...
...but why? An indescribable ticklish sensation dominated her.
Cheongwol looked up at Han Seojin.
Her excited breaths kept escaping through her lips.
The excited voices of people echoing from outside the alley felt distant.
Right now, her world consisted of Han Seojin alone.
The sensation of the collar around her neck was gradually becoming familiar.
Cheongwol shook her head. She told herself she couldn't give in like this.
But the more she did, the more the collar asserted its presence, as if it were alive.
The harder she tried to escape it, the more intensely it enveloped her.
She truly felt like she was becoming his.
"...N-no..."
And so, Cheongwol whispered unwittingly.
It was a childish voice unbecoming of a proud Emei Sect heroine.
The weakness she had spent her life trying to eradicate.
Yet before Han Seojin, she always crumbled into this helpless vulnerability.
"Calm down."
Han Seojin whispered then.
His voice was lower and gentler than before.
As if to say she looked so pretty with the collar on.
That warm timbre only confused Cheongwol more.
He was the root of all this turmoil, yet his words kept soothing her heart.
"Calm down. Don't worry about anything. Didn't I say I'd take responsibility for you?"
"Ugh..."
"You're my possession. Do you think I'd treat my own possession carelessly?"
Heart-fluttering words.
Words she hated so much.
Yet she couldn't push them away.
Cheongwol's body was led into vulnerability once more.
Han Seojin had pulled on the collar again.
"Come on, Wol. Your face is covered with the veil... so let's step out of the alley like this."
"!"
Cheongwol flailed in panic at his words, unable to respond.
Squatting as she was, she fell backward onto her butt in an undignified heap.
But she had no time to care about that.
She hurriedly grabbed the wall.
Her head shook furiously from side to side.
"N-no. P-please, Owner... th-that...!"
People would see.
Walking through the streets with a leash around her neck.
Even with the veil, everyone would stare at her.
They'd point fingers, saying who does such a beastly thing.
And if the veil slipped even a little...
"Hic!"
Cheongwol let out a foolish moan at the mere thought.
If she were exposed, the news would spread across the Central Plains.
"N-no, absolutely not. I-I absolutely refuse...!"
"...Hm."
Han Seojin's gaze darkened further.
It suddenly terrified her, but Cheongwol couldn't yield.
The last shreds of her humanity, her remaining pride, wouldn't allow it.
"...Fine, I'll compromise then."
Han Seojin sighed. Cheongwol did the same.
He tossed the collar onto Cheongwol's leg.
"...Huh?"
Was it over?
"Tuck the collar inside your clothes and pull it out through your sleeve."
"...Haa."
Cheongwol exhaled in relief.
"...?"
"...?"
At the sigh that escaped her unwittingly, Han Seojin and Cheongwol locked eyes simultaneously.
Cheongwol's face flushed abruptly.
"N-no... I-I mean, we're not going out like this, right..."
She fumbled for an excuse as she fidgeted.
"..."
Han Seojin didn't press her.
Instead, he turned and issued another command.
"Collar, out through the sleeve."
Cheongwol hesitated a moment before grasping the collar.
It still felt utterly strange.
This collar around her neck—around the neck of a person, no less, a nun of the Emei Sect—was so alien.
It was as if the collar kept whispering to her.
You're not human.
Just a beast, someone's possession.
"...Hoo..."
And each time that realization crashed over her like waves at regular intervals, a hot sigh escaped her lips.
She felt like she had to exhale like this or her insides would burn up.
Only then did she realize her whole body was aflame.
With hesitant hands, Cheongwol followed Han Seojin's order.
She justified it to herself.
...If she didn't obey, he'd really drag her out like this.
That's why she was following his command.
Choosing the lesser evil, not submission.
She carefully tucked the collar inside her clothes.
Then pulled the long cord out through her sleeve.
The rope brushing her skin startled her.
Each vivid contact etched the reality of this situation deeper.
Staring at the dangling end protruding from her sleeve, Cheongwol cautiously poked Han Seojin's calf.
Han Seojin turned and nodded.
"Show me."
Cheongwol pulled her veil down over her face and lifted her sleeve.
The rope hung from the end.
"Give it."
Han Seojin extended his hand.
"Urk."
Cheongwol bit her lip again.
He could just take it himself, so why ask for it?
Even that brief moment felt like a suffocating psychological battle.
Handing it over felt like voluntarily surrendering control.
Why force her to do something she could just let happen?
"..."
Yet she couldn't defy him.
In the end, she turned her head slightly and carefully offered the end of the rope to Han Seojin.
The collar pulled taut once more.
The sensation of domination gripped her again.
"Good girl."
Han Seojin praised her.
Cheongwol pressed her lips together and exhaled deeply.
Heat kept rising inside her.
"Get up now."
Han Seojin said.
Cheongwol leaned against the wall and rose unsteadily.
"You know, like this, you just look normal."
It sounded like comfort, but venom followed immediately.
"No one would guess you're wearing a collar like a pervert."
"You... put it on me...!"
"And you submitted."
"..."
Reacting to every jab would exhaust her.
She clenched her lips.
"Come on, let's go."
Han Seojin gave a slight tug on the collar.
His arm hung down naturally, so the leash wasn't visible.
"W-wait a moment...!"
Cheongwol halted Han Seojin's steps.
Still utterly unprepared, she asked.
"Y-you're really going out?"
She could hardly believe it even now.
"Then what?"
"You're... just teasing me again, right? Y-you're not really going out? You said you hate martial artists, Owner. If we're caught, it'd involve you too? You wouldn't want that!"
"If you've got a collar on, you go for a walk. Why else wear it?"
"There are s-so many people on the street! Wh-what if we're caught...!"
"Your face and neck are veiled, and the leash is hidden in your sleeve. How would we get caught? Hesitating and trembling like you are would look more suspicious. Just... walk confidently."
How was she supposed to walk confidently?
Cheongwol's legs were already trembling.
She couldn't remember the last time her legs felt this weak, like a fool.
She wouldn't falter even when wielding her sword to kill.
Cheongwol argued back again.
Even knowing he wouldn't see her as cute.
"You...! If we're caught, you just get labeled a pervert and that's it...! But for me, my life would be ruined!"
"Urk!"
Then, Han Seojin yanked the collar a bit roughly.
"Wol."
He called her name lowly.
For the first time, his tone seemed truly angry.
Cheongwol flinched and lowered her gaze.
"Stop deluding yourself."
He said calmly.
"Right now, you're just... my possession. Not even you are your own master."
"Ugh...!"
"And if you break, that's even better for me. I'll take responsibility for life."
"...!"
Heart-squeezing words.
What could a lowly Leather Room owner from the outskirts of Mount Emei possibly take responsibility for?
A poor man who came all the way to the sacred city—what could he do?
Yet, the faint sense of relief in those words was inexplicable.
If he took responsibility for her... would she be freed from this heavy burden?
She wasn't a fool; she knew he didn't mean it.
Han Seojin had said he hated martial artists.
He wouldn't want to shoulder someone like her, a promising talent with the world's expectations.
But even so, the emotion conveyed by his words lingered.
Han Seojin stepped forward after those words.
If she didn't follow, the rope would lift her sleeve.
With no strength in her legs, Cheongwol had no choice but to walk as he led.
He held control over her neck, disrupting her balance; she had no say.
She was dragged along like a puppy on a leash.
With every step, her heartbeat grew louder.
The people's voices grew louder.
The lanterns illuminating the darkness grew brighter.
Cheongwol froze in fear again.
She clutched the leash with both hands, planting her feet firmly on the ground.
"...You."
As Han Seojin was about to get angry again, Cheongwol pleaded.
"Th-the rope..."
Eyes squeezed shut, she whispered powerlessly.
"The rope... sh-show me. Please... so..."
Fine, face and neck were covered.
Assume the rope connecting her neck to his hand was hidden by the sleeve.
...But the rope protruding from the sleeve and Han Seojin's hand gripping it were exposed.
Anyone looking would see.
She absolutely couldn't tolerate this.
"..."
Han Seojin stiffened for a moment, then let out a soft chuckle.
Cheongwol's heart sank once more.
"Hic!"
Han Seojin had grasped her hand.
The rope lay over Cheongwol's hand, and Han Seojin's hand over that.
"This should be fine, right?"
Cheongwol looked down at her hand.
Nothing suspicious.
Just the sight of lovers holding hands tenderly.
"Uh... ugh..."
It was her first time holding a man's hand.
Whether from that or the collar, her heart raced wildly.
For an Emei Sect nun, it was forbidden.
Holding a man's hand like lovers.
What surprised her more was that it didn't feel unpleasant.
Han Seojin's hand in hers, which had only ever gripped a sword.
She'd thought holding a man's hand would feel awful, but her only impression was that his was large and rough.
Strangely reassuring.
Having only conversed through swords, she'd never felt the difference between men and women so starkly.
"Now we're really going."
Han Seojin stepped forward.
Cheongwol was helplessly drawn into the crowd under his control.
"Dumplings!! Get your dumplings!!"
"What a fine day!! Boy! Another round of drinks here!!"
"Did you see Mokryong? Man, what a specimen!! But to think the Thousand-Year Flower took him down!"
"Sigh, why didn't Lady Cheongwol show up? I wanted to see her."
The lively crowd unfolded before her.
Red lanterns brightly lit the streets everywhere.
Savory food aromas wafted, and a cool breeze blew.
Amid the throng of dozens—no, hundreds—Cheongwol stood.
Collar around her neck. Its end in Han Seojin's grasp.
The Emei Sect's flower that bloomed once every thousand years.
She, who bore that nickname, was now blooming in the most vulgar way amid the masses.
Her heart pounded as if it would burst.
But as Han Seojin said, no one recognized her.
No one looked at her.
And as that layer of anxiety peeled away, what seeped in was...
...an inexplicable liberation and a dark pleasure.
Her body shuddered.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.
The fact that discovery would end everything.
Yet the dangerous thrill it brought.
"Hoo... huu..."
Cheongwol exhaled the breath she'd been holding.
Even to herself, it was so vulgar.
Appearing in secret like a pervert, savoring this dark sensation.
An Emei Sect nun doing this.
She, counted among the Central Plains' noblest women, doing this.
A hideous sight she could never show anyone.
One she could never confess.
A secret to take to the grave.
"...Feels good, right?"
Then she saw Han Seojin smirking.
Cheongwol took him in.
...Ah.
No, there was one person.
One who willingly beheld her filthy, lowly state.
The one who introduced her to this bizarre, shameful pleasure.
And the only one sharing this deviance with her.
Without him, none of this would have been possible.
She wouldn't have even imagined it.
Through this secret deviance with him, Cheongwol felt a connection to him without words.
Doing something unspeakable to anyone, just the two of them.
It made them feel even more intimate.
Deepened her trust in him.
She couldn't have done this without trusting Han Seojin.
If he betrayed her and ripped off the veil, her life would shatter.
But now Cheongwol knew he wouldn't.
That's why she'd chosen to step into the crowd with him.
Submitting freed her from the burden of choice and responsibility, granting liberation.
Human desires she had to deny as a nun felt permitted while leashed.
Right now, Han Seojin was still her entire world.
The only one anchoring her anxious heart.
Han Seojin squeezed her hand tighter.
Cheongwol snapped to attention.
Unnoticed amid the collar's distraction, the odd emotion from holding hands persisted.
"You can walk?"
Cheongwol eyed the crowd.
Pushing through would inevitably brush against people.
She bit her lip, then gripped Han Seojin's hand more preciously.
She nodded faintly.
She was afraid.
...But if Han Seojin said it was fine, it probably was.
Han Seojin flashed a broad smile.
"Let's go then."
What would happen on this walk? What more would Han Seojin demand?
Cheongwol was already dizzy, at her limit... but she knew he wouldn't stop here.
...But she didn't need to think.
As Han Seojin said.
Right now, she wasn't an Emei Sect nun, nor the Thousand-Year Flower, nor a promising talent burdened with expectations...
...She was simply Han Seojin's possession.