Two more days had passed, but the Leather Room remained firmly shut.
Cheongwol toyed with the leather knife in her hand.
It wasn't expensive, but it was a gift she had searched high and low for, something that would suit him, chosen specifically to give to Han Seojin.
But now, it was just a present without an owner.
As Cheongwol traced the blade of the leather knife with her fingertip, a faint smile tugged at her lips.
"...Ha."
It was a hollow laugh that would sound chillingly cold to anyone listening nearby, but a smile was still a smile.
...Day 12.
Twelve days had passed since she parted from Han Seojin.
Especially the last two days—the time had dragged on unbearably.
It felt like every moment was stretching out even further.
Her patience had already been exhausted holding out for ten days, so now it felt unfair to endure any longer.
"...Ha."
Cheongwol kept laughing.
Yeah, that could happen.
He might still have business in the capital.
The trip back could take a few more days.
Maybe he was taking it easy.
...But it's been 12 days.
The journey from the capital back to Mount Emei took about five days.
So what on earth had Han Seojin been doing for the remaining seven days?
Where was he wasting away the time?
"...What more could he possibly be doing in the capital? The beggar."
Cheongwol whispered words she would never utter in front of Han Seojin, words that slipped out unbidden.
She brushed her own neck.
The marks left by the collar were nowhere to be seen now.
And with them gone, Cheongwol felt a strange emptiness, as if her connection to him had been completely severed.
"Hoo."
Of course, she had no reason to cling to Han Seojin.
She hadn't acted this way expecting any reward from him.
She hadn't bought the leather knife to earn his praise, nor refused Yeongcheon's offer for his sake.
She was still the one in control of her own actions.
She was just annoyed.
Hadn't he said he was returning to the capital?
And yet he still hadn't come home. Wasn't that deception?
Whatever.
Do whatever he wants.
She didn't want to care anymore.
What did it matter, that one man?
"..."
And yet, at times, fear would suddenly grip her.
...What if he had run away for good?
What if he never came back?
Han Seojin had said he didn't want to get involved with murim folk.
And if she was included among those murim folk?
Cheongwol's face darkened.
She didn't want to believe that.
Hadn't Han Seojin embraced all her ugly and weak sides?
That's why she had trusted him, why she had placed her safety and reputation in his hands.
That's why she had worn the collar and gone for walks with him.
...And now, betrayal?
It was impossible to accept.
Beyond anger, it would hurt.
To Cheongwol, Han Seojin might have been the first friend she'd ever had in her life.
The word "friend" felt awkward even to her, but he was someone she wanted to call that.
...Something must have come up.
After her long bout of grumbling, amid the hollow laughs, after venting all her irritation and frustration, Cheongwol finally comforted herself.
Yeah, there must be some circumstance.
Surely.
So, let's trust him and wait a little longer.
"Senior Sister!!"
At that moment, a young voice shattered Cheongwol's reverie.
Cheongwol naturally slipped the leather knife she held into her sleeve.
It was Honghwa.
The third-generation disciple who followed her devotedly, a student of the senior disciple Hye-yul.
Honghwa came running with a bright smile and clung to Cheongwol's leg.
The instant those small arms wrapped around her leg, Cheongwol carefully reached out to stroke Honghwa's head, making sure not to reveal the emotions she had been suppressing.
"Don't run, Honghwa."
But Honghwa's face was strangely excited.
Her lips trembled as if parched, and she blurted out urgently.
"Senior Sister! In the village, that...! H-he came!"
Cheongwol's heart leaped.
"The owner came?"
"Yes...?"
From Honghwa's reaction, Cheongwol realized that wasn't it.
"...Who came?"
"Senior Dang Soran!"
Cheongwol had to put in every effort not to twist her expression.
Suddenly?
Why?
...Could it be she couldn't forget what happened in the basement that day and came for that?
...But if so, it was fortunate for now.
Han Seojin wasn't on Mount Emei.
"I see."
"Yes! You should go down and see!"
"...I... suppose so."
Cheongwol let out a deep sigh.
Before parting with Honghwa, she asked formally.
"Is Senior Sister Hye-yul all right?"
"Yes. She keeps asking about you, Senior Sister Cheongwol, so it seems like she wants to express her gratitude."
"...I see."
Cheongwol moved to greet the guest who had arrived in the village.
Then Honghwa grabbed her hand.
"Um... Sen-senior Sister. Wh-where's... Uncle?"
Cheongwol answered honestly.
"...I don't know either."
"You didn't meet him in the capital?"
They had met, but... now that she thought about it, the meeting itself was supposed to be a secret, right?
Officially, the two of them should never have met.
"We didn't meet."
"...It's already... almost a month..."
Cheongwol hugged the saddened Honghwa and patted her back.
"When he comes back, we'll scold him."
"...Yes."
.
.
.
The moment Cheongwol saw Dang Soran, she let out a long sigh.
"Senior Dang."
"Cheongwol, you're looking well. Is everything resolved?"
Cheongwol nodded.
It still felt stifling. If not for the Yeongcheon matter, she would have returned to Mount Emei with Han Seojin.
"What brings you here, Senior?"
"I started worrying about why you had to rush back. We're in the Hidden Dragon Society together. We should help each other."
That's why it felt so sticky.
Since when were they that close?
And if that was the case, why not come together from the start?
Honestly, in Cheongwol's eyes, Dang Soran's intentions for visiting Mount Emei seemed transparently obvious.
Sure enough, Dang Soran said.
"Oh, before greeting the Sect Leader... there's a place I want to stop by briefly."
"Where?"
"...There's someone who helped me last time, but I haven't repaid them yet, right?"
...See?
Cheongwol snorted. Leaning in, she whispered.
"...The owner isn't in the village right now."
"...Huh?"
Dang Soran looked surprised.
A hint of disappointment even flickered across her face.
Cheongwol didn't know why that irked her so much.
Dang Soran said.
"Where did he... Ah, you wouldn't know, would you."
Cheongwol's expression soured at those words.
"...What do you mean by that?"
"Nothing."
"Senior, what do you—"
"—Shall we head up first?"
With that, Dang Soran turned toward Mount Emei.
Cheongwol floundered in confusion for a while.
As expected, Dang Soran was someone she didn't like.
****
Dang Soran bit her lip, swallowing a surge of pleasure.
Cheongwol's face twisting like that.
A damp sense of superiority enveloped her.
"...Hoo."
...No. This isn't good.
Stop it.
She reined herself in.
...But she couldn't help it.
Getting even a little revenge on Cheongwol, who always drew lines sharply, acted cold, and nagged constantly—it was quite sweet.
...By the way, where had Han Seojin gone?
She thought he would have arrived at Mount Emei by now.
She hadn't met him on the way here either...
"..."
Something felt off, but she tried not to dwell on it.
Maybe he'd show up once she settled on Mount Emei.
The lingering aftertaste of that night still lingered with her.
Chasing after him, who had vanished like a mirage in the morning—it even felt somewhat romantic.
He was the thrill that had entered her otherwise stimulation-free life.
She was satisfied with that alone.
After finishing her greetings with Sect Leader Muwol Satae, Dang Soran arrived at the lodgings assigned under Cheongwol's guidance.
However, Cheongwol was still wary of her to the end.
Dang Soran could feel it keenly.
The unguarded gaze, the icy tone, the chill in her fingertips as she opened and closed the door.
All of it slowly stoked her irritation.
...Did she think others couldn't show it just because she couldn't?
As Dang Soran entered the room, Cheongwol closed the door.
"If you're done with your business, please leave."
She said.
It was a sharp remark.
Dang Soran turned with a smirk.
"I've only just arrived, and you're already telling me to go? Isn't that too stingy? The Tang Clan of Sichuan watched over you with utmost care, you know."
"You said your purpose was to help me. Wouldn't it be more tiring for you to stay where there's nothing left to help with?"
Dang Soran endured Cheongwol's insolent attitude.
Then she stated honestly.
"Hmm. I also wanted to see Young Master Seojin."
"You keep saying Young Master this, Young Master that. Stop it."
Dang Soran was dumbfounded.
"Why? What should I call him then?"
"Senior."
Cheongwol's voice was firm.
"...Do you think I don't know?"
"Huh? Know what."
"That you're doing this just to get under my skin."
Stab. Those words pricked Dang Soran's conscience.
"You've always been like this, Senior. Teasing and provoking people to make them angry, then enjoying the reaction. Do you really think I didn't know?"
She was genuinely surprised.
"You even tried to crush me in front of everyone during the sparring match. Is this because I won that time?"
Maybe there was some of that. She hadn't expected Cheongwol to know.
It was just Dang Soran's personality. Maybe from being raised pampered.
She had provoked Han Seojin too, leading to his punishment.
Dang Soran knew full well she was a bit twisted.
But being called out on it was another matter.
"It's the same now. You know I'm... close to the owner, so you're deliberately trying to anger me. Such sincerity. Coming all the way from the capital to Mount Emei for this."
"I honestly have no idea what you're talking about. Were you and Young Master Seojin close?"
"...He's my first friend."
Cheongwol's eyes held sincerity as she said it.
Cheongwol's first friend. The impact of those words was considerable, but it was also a bit ridiculous.
...Your friend was starving in the capital.
"So stop it. It's really annoying."
Annoying... huh.
Where had her respect for her senior gone?
Cheongwol could get angry, but this tone was outright dismissal.
In that instant, Dang Soran felt a surge of anger rising.
"Why? Maybe I like the Young Master."
"You?"
Cheongwol let out a hollow laugh.
"What's so great about a shabby man running a leather shop on the outskirts of Mount Emei that you're acting like this, Senior? Haven't you had plenty of men like that fawning over you in the capital?"
"..."
"Besides, you've only met him once. In the end, you're just doing this to provoke me, nothing more."
"I need to resolve my heart demon too."
"It was only once, and it wasn't even a method that suited you, Senior."
"Why do you get to decide that? It's for the Young Master to decide."
Cheongwol pressed her lips tight for a moment.
Then, in a low whisper, she said.
"...The owner said he doesn't want to get involved with you, Senior Dang."
"...Huh?"
"He's not the type who likes murim folk much. So stop bothering my friend."
He doesn't want to get involved with me?
That rundown Leather Room owner?
That one sentence left her dumbfounded and wounded her pride.
Dang Soran could only smile.
But already, her mind was a mess from the fight with Cheongwol.
She was quite angry now, too.
"...Let's end this conversation here. As you said, there's no reason for us to fight over some shabby man running a leather shop, right? If I've upset you, I apologize. I didn't mean to provoke you."
"..."
Cheongwol let out a shallow breath, then nodded curtly.
Cheongwol turned to leave.
But at that moment, Dang Soran called her back.
"Ah, Wol. Wait a second."
Cheongwol paused.
"Before you go, help me with one thing. I... need to apply some medicine."
****
"Ah, Wol. Hold on a moment. Before you go, help me with one thing. I need to apply some medicine."
...Medicine?
Cheongwol hesitated briefly.
She hadn't heard anything about an injury.
Dang Soran's sudden mention of medicine felt somehow suspicious.
But arguing further in this situation would just be tiring.
Cheongwol nodded silently.
Dang Soran approached and took a medicine case from her sleeve.
"Could you hold this for a bit?"
Cheongwol extended her hand wordlessly.
Then, Dang Soran slowly rolled up her uniform from the hem.
"...What are you doing?"
"The injury is on the inside."
Dang Soran's movements were leisurely.
Cheongwol composed her emotions while watching.
She felt a little sorry.
For conveying Han Seojin's intentions to Dang Soran.
Han Seojin had never directly said he didn't want to meet Dang Soran, but they had shared similar sentiments multiple times.
Cheongwol had repeatedly asked him not to play those games with Dang Soran, and Han Seojin had nodded, saying he disliked murim folk.
So it amounted to the same thing.
There was no need to feel guilty.
She just hoped Dang Soran would leave like this and never show interest in her friend again.
...Cheongwol knew this side of herself was ugly, but she didn't want her one and only first friend to neglect her.
With her back turned, Dang Soran began rolling up her uniform excruciatingly slowly, as if meticulously calculating for an audience.
Slowly.
Really slowly.
As if impure intent was woven into every fold of the hem.
First to appear was her dazzlingly white calf.
Then the smoothly curving thigh.
The fabric climbed higher along her skin...
And in the next instant, Cheongwol's vision froze.
"...Huh?"
Cheongwol's breath caught.
The air in her chest leaked out powerlessly.
What she saw was... red marks on Dang Soran's buttocks.
Marks like from being struck by something.
Marks left by someone.
Buttocks etched with someone's desire and sadism.
A domination seal vividly imprinted on the skin, not yet faded.
"...Pretty harsh, right?"
Dang Soran whispered.
Cheongwol couldn't respond.
Cheongwol knew who could have done this.
She didn't want to believe it, but the evidence was too clear.
If not him, who else would leave marks on the body of the Poison Phoenix, Dang Soran?
That man who was gone now. He and Dang Soran were connected by that single mark.
...Clearer marks than the ones that had been on her own neck remained on Dang Soran.
...I've never been handled that harshly.
Cheongwol thought.
Not that she envied the violence... but where was this insane rage coming from?
Her heart pounded wildly.
Dang Soran's cheeks were now flushed with excitement and triumph.
"I can't see it well myself, Wol."
A blue haze rose from Cheongwol's body.
"...Will you apply the medicine for me?"