Cheongwol cooled her burning face with the back of her hand as she looked at Han Seojin.
He was cleaning the statue in the valley stream.
Every moment was humiliating.
Especially thinking that he was wiping away her urine.
"Ca, can't I do it myself?"
Cheongwol pleaded softly.
But Han Seojin shook his head.
"Cleaning up after the puppy is the owner's job."
"...That's why you keep saying owner, owner... How can a person have an owner? Why are you my owner?"
Strangely, the word carried resistance mixed with deep humiliation and excitement.
Han Seojin, my owner.
Cheongwol had vowed to live her life as an independent woman.
She had declared she would live under no one's shadow or protection, yet that vow was mocked as the word "owner" pierced her so easily.
The sensation of being possessed. The idea of belonging to someone.
A repulsive and unpleasant concept, yet it was laced with perverse pleasure.
Of course, Cheongwol knew.
The "owner" Han Seojin spoke of was just part of the game.
He was always the type to toss things out lightly, and this was no different.
Yet those casual words kept tapping at some corner of her heart.
Oblivious to Cheongwol's turmoil, Han Seojin just shrugged.
He cleaned the statue with devotion.
He acted as if her urine wasn't dirty at all.
No hesitation when he grabbed the soaked statue, and none now as he wiped it clean.
Cheongwol knew she would never forget Han Seojin's rough hands, glistening with her urine from clutching the statue on the way to the valley.
She would never forget how she could only hop in place from the sheer humiliation.
But this overbearing, indifferent, cold man... had accepted even her filth without a care.
Strangely, in that moment, Cheongwol felt his affection.
He truly accepts all of me, she thought.
Like the mothers with babies she sometimes saw in the village.
A mother changing her child's diaper, treating the excrement as if it weren't dirty at all.
That's exactly how Han Seojin was right now.
The same man who always pushed her to the brink, hurt her, and sometimes broke her with cruel words... was silently tender in this moment.
Humiliating enough to die, yet she felt an inexplicable warmth within it.
Han Seojin finished cleaning the statue and held it up to the moonlight.
Cheongwol kept cooling her face but followed his gaze to the statue.
"..."
"..."
Han Seojin suddenly sniffed the statue.
Cheongwol reflexively swatted the back of his head petulantly.
"Wh-why would you sniff that!!!"
Han Seojin, meanwhile, scratched his head sheepishly.
The game seemed mostly over, so he wasn't as domineering as before.
"It's clean now. Let's head back."
Soon, the two returned near Bokho Temple.
The moment of parting arrived.
"Chin up."
"..."
...It's over again this time.
Cheongwol thought.
Another ten days without approaching him.
One thing was certain: she really hated it now.
Those ten days had been utter agony.
So, without realizing it, she ignored Han Seojin's command and just stood still.
"Won't lift your chin?"
"..."
Was she going mad?
Standing still because she didn't want this perverted dog collar removed.
But hating it, what could she do?
In the end, reason overrode emotion.
Slowly, she lifted her chin.
Han Seojin removed her dog collar.
But what washed over Cheongwol wasn't the liberation from suffocating restraint, but an emptiness like losing something precious.
Her neck felt so hollow.
"Go in."
He handed her the statue as he said it.
"..."
Unsure what to do, Cheongwol slowly turned.
She couldn't understand why taking that first step was so hard.
"Right, Wol-ah."
"Huh?"
But as she turned, Han Seojin stopped her.
"I heard. You rescued your martial brothers?"
His demeanor was a bit different from usual.
The way he averted his gaze slightly as he spoke showed he was more serious than normal.
"And met Yeongcheon too."
"..."
Han Seojin struggled to continue. He was hesitating remarkably.
Wondering what he wanted to say, Cheongwol froze in place.
"...Good job."
In the end, Han Seojin whispered.
It was as if praising her for not falling for Yeongcheon's offer.
Han Seojin couldn't know about the offer. But it felt that way.
As always, Han Seojin was a mysterious being, and so he was now.
It was different from his usual praise. His awkward delivery carried genuine sincerity.
Cheongwol felt joy blooming deep in her chest.
Even when she saved her martial brothers, even when she heard Yeongcheon's offer.
Her heart had only sunk stickily, filled with conflict to the end.
One word of recognition from Han Seojin made it all feel rewarded.
Cheongwol suppressed the surging emotions and rummaged for something that came to mind.
She pulled out... a leather knife from her inner pocket.
"...What's this?"
When Han Seojin asked, Cheongwol lowered her eyes.
She couldn't fathom why giving a simple gift felt so embarrassing.
Had Dang Soran endured this same shame when giving her gift?
"...Le, leather knife. As thanks..."
Han Seojin took the leather knife.
Cheongwol's heart pounded like it would burst.
He said nothing special.
Instead, he scratched his head and turned away.
Then, as a final word:
"Keep behaving so prettily... and I'll keep playing with you steadily."
"..."
With that, Han Seojin left.
Cheongwol entered her lodging, covered herself with the blanket, but his words lingered.
Behave prettily, and he'll keep cherishing her.
...Thinking about it, Cheongwol had nothing to beat Dang Soran with.
No money, nothing she could do for Han Seojin.
...But what if she became Han Seojin's possession?
If she became great enough for him to take pride in, to boast about... wouldn't he treasure her too?
Even if she couldn't give him things like Dang Soran, wouldn't that make him happy?
"...No."
...What kind of nonsense was this?
She didn't want to break herself this much.
She was Emei Sect's proud heroine. Not someone's possession.
...Yet Cheongwol kept imagining it.
Until dawn broke, her thoughts continued.
****
I quietly stared at the leather knife Cheongwol gave me.
"...It's total crap..."
A deep sigh escaped me.
This crazy bitch. Where'd she dig up this garbage...
No way it'd cut leather properly.
Like living fine on a high-powered motorcycle, then getting handed a beat-up scooter and told to enjoy it.
But I couldn't just toss it.
Cheongwol's expression when giving it was so earnest...
...And above all, it's a gift from a murderous ghost.
Who knows what she'd do if I slighted it.
'Ignore my sincerity? Wanna die?' She might flip out completely.
"..."
Still, for some reason, this leather knife felt magnetically attractive.
Plenty of complaints, but my heart felt oddly fluffy.
Because it's a gift? Because I can feel the sentiment in it?
Complex emotions swirled.
I only now realized Cheongwol was capable of gratitude.
I did it to survive, but she felt thankful.
And repaid it.
The image of Cheongwol in my mind was gradually wearing down.
I fiddled with her leather knife more than necessary, then started walking.
Back to where I'd played with Cheongwol earlier.
There, I found Dang Soran's leather knife.
"..."
No matter what, I couldn't throw this away...
Toss a gift from the Tang Clan of Sichuan's eldest daughter?
What would I say if Dang Soran later asked where it was?
Cheongwol was one thing, but Dang Soran was Dang Soran.
Caught between them, I had to tightrope like a god.
Above all, it was too premium to discard.
Might be the priciest item in our Leather Room.
"...Ugh."
I carefully picked up the leather knife with thumb and index finger.
...Gotta clean it at the stream.
Seriously, during play earlier, even I nearly lost my reason.
Urine isn't great.
But humiliated Cheongwol was... the ideal masochist, enough to forget she's a killer.
Insane talent. A natural maso.
A once-in-a-thousand-years maso.
"..."
I replayed Cheongwol's reactions in my head over and over, then scanned around.
...Unable to resist curiosity, I took a quick sniff.
"...Barley tea?"
Like how novel mains and supports are all hot and pretty, is even this flawless?
They say vegetarians smell good... As a nun, her urine just smells like barley tea.
Unbelievable.
I shook my head and hurried to the valley.
Then meticulously cleaned Dang Soran's leather knife.
Can't waste this good blade.
Gonna have to eye each one and alternate between Cheongwol's leather knife and Dang Soran's.
"Haa..."
Then I let out a deep sigh.
"...Fuck, survived again."
.
.
.
.
"...What did you do?"
Dang Soran snorted shortly and turned her head.
"I told him."
"Wh-who?"
"Who do you think?"
Ever since getting shut down at the door that day, she'd mastered teasing me.
She pretty much hated me now.
Dang Soran put on a mischievous expression and puffed out her chest.
Then declared confidently.
"I told Daddy!"