Martial Arts Masochist

I walked a bit inside the Tang Clan grounds before stopping and looking at Dang Soran.

“Miss Soran, there's no one around now. Just tell me.”

Honestly, I was a little anxious.

It was because I'd seen Dang Soran's act.

She'd suddenly shaken off the servants trying to follow us.

‘No need, I said. Go, hurry up and go.’

‘But miss...’

‘I mean it! Go on! I'm an adult too. I don't need help.’

It might look like a tomboyish lady throwing a tantrum, but knowing Dang Soran as I did, I suspected her intentions a bit.

Why? What was she up to now?

What scheme had she cooked up this time?

I stopped and looked at her.

“I told you to speak.”

“...”

Dang Soran didn't even answer.

She just ignored me and kept walking.

I glanced at her, then turned my eyes aside.

There, in the distance, was the Tang Clan's main gate.

If you ignore me, I'll ignore you too.

Should I just leave?

Thud! As I thought about heading out, Dang Soran closed the distance and grabbed my right hand with both of hers.

“...Hurry. Come on quick. Why are you so slow?”

She lay back, pulling me along.

I called her out on it.

“We can talk right here. How far are we going?”

“Young Master... just once, please...”

“And look at me when you talk. What's with the makeup that you can't even look at me?”

“Ugh...!”

Dang Soran was uncharacteristically staring at the ground.

She even looked strangely desperate, as if entranced by something.

Her ears were red, and her neck too.

Was it the sunset?

The more unusual she was than usual, the more uneasy I felt.

“We'll talk in the room... I'll tell you in the room.”

I looked around.

“I told you no one's here. What's the big deal? It's late; I need to go.”

“I even got permission from Elder Gwak...”

Gwak Du Uncle?

Since when was he an elder?

“What does getting permission from Gwak Du Uncle have to do with this?”

I pulled my hand free from Dang Soran.

Then I turned and headed out.

“If you won't tell me, I'm leaving.”

At that, Dang Soran scurried up behind me and pushed my back this time.

“Just to the room. To the room, Young Master.”

“No, that's not—”

“—I thought of a way to shake off Jegal Yong...!”

Dang Soran finally spoke.

Her words made me blink.

For a moment, I was torn.

And in that gap, Dang Soran hooked her arm in mine.

“What the—”

“L-Let's go.”

She was much closer than usual.

Her subtly changed demeanor bothered me a little, but with a sigh, I started walking.

“...Sigh.”

As we walked, I mulled over her words, and my thoughts shifted slightly.

Fine.

The Poison King gave his approval, so let's help her shake off Jegal Yong a bit more.

****

Thud. Dang Soran let Han Seojin into her chambers and closed the door.

Only after bringing him in did she regain her senses.

She must have seemed too desperate.

For a moment, she'd lost her composure.

The eldest daughter of the great Tang Clan of Sichuan, the Poison Phoenix Dang Soran—what did she see in this beggar to drag him here in such haste?

Han Seojin was still Han Seojin.

Nothing had changed, so why was she acting like this?

With a sigh, she turned to face him.

“Miss Soran.”

“Ugh.”

But she had to immediately lower her head.

He was unfairly handsome.

She'd only seen him in his shabby state before, but now, dressed up like that, she couldn't keep her wits.

It was hard to believe this obvious realization had come so slowly.

Why had he seemed ugly at first?

Then after he cut his hair, she started to notice a bit.

Then those feelings deepened...

...And now, even looking at his face was hard.

It wasn't just the realization that was the issue.

With clean clothes, neatly combed hair, and a shaved beard, of course he looked even more handsome.

But the difference was stark.

Han Seojin, who always dressed like a beggar, now looked incredibly refined in young master attire.

...And this man had thrown himself into ruining her marriage for her sake.

He'd been jealous, angry, and annoyed that she was getting married.

How grateful she was for that.

Dang Soran tried to calm herself by thinking of that Han Seojin.

No need to rush.

He'd come running at the mere mention of a way to shake off Jegal Yong, hadn't he?

“So? What's the plan to shake off Jegal Yong?”

“Why so impatient, Young Master?”

“...”

“Shall we have a drink first? I'm curious what you talked about with the Clan Leader.”

Dang Soran opened the prepared bottle without giving him a choice.

Pop! Han Seojin looked utterly bewildered.

“Why the sudden drink after calling me here?”

“Why not? It brings back memories. Feels nice.”

“What memories...”

“...Do you remember?”

The fragrant aroma of the wine filled the room, and Han Seojin seemed to recall it too.

The Yeo-ahong they'd drunk here in the past.

The wine opened when a woman marries.

The first man she'd shared it with was Han Seojin, and now the man drinking it again was him.

Maybe it was all fate.

“Have a drink, Young Master.”

“You did everything to ruin my marriage, so why bring out the wedding wine now?”

“It was supposed to be drunk at this chance anyway, but you made it so I couldn't. Young Master, we've talked so much before—aren't you hungry?”

She then brought out the simple snacks she'd prepared.

A bit cold, but still edible.

Han Seojin frowned but couldn't tear his eyes from the food.

It was something Dang Soran had realized on the journey to Zhongjing—Han Seojin couldn't easily refuse food.

“And I know you've worked hard for me, but I've never thanked you properly. It's my sincerity... Eat a little while we talk.”

“...”

Seeing Han Seojin's conflict, Dang Soran smiled inwardly.

“Worried it's poisoned? You're too cautious sometimes.”

“Not cautious... Sigh.”

Unable to resist the food's temptation, Han Seojin sat down.

Dang Soran was about to sit opposite him but glanced at the empty spot beside him.

It didn't take long to decide.

Her heart raced, but she sat right next to him like a courtesan.

“What's with you today, really?”

Han Seojin's confusion only grew at her odd behavior.

His flustered look was oddly endearing, so Dang Soran played innocent.

“What do you mean?”

Pour. She filled his glass with Yeo-ahong.

She picked up food with chopsticks and held it to his mouth.

“Here, ahh~”

“...”

“It's a sign of sincerity. Can't you play along?”

“...”

At the word "play," Han Seojin relented and ate it.

A heat rose near Dang Soran's heart.

If this was the paired life her father wanted to teach her, maybe it wasn't so bad.

Even if it was all sacrifice.

Feeding him like this every time might seem tedious from afar.

But doing it herself, Dang Soran was getting hooked on the fun of feeding him.

Luckily, the food suited his taste—his eyebrow twitched.

With no excuse left to refuse, he downed the drink like a man.

“...”

Dang Soran watched him swallow with sticky eyes.

When Han Seojin drank this wine before, it hadn't felt like this.

...Now, watching him swallow felt strangely erotic.

Han Seojin drinking the wine that symbolized her—his breath quickened.

Dang Soran then covered her odd intentions with casual talk.

As the conversation lengthened, Han Seojin's guard slowly lowered.

Laughter began to bloom softly, along with a gentle atmosphere.

They talked openly like friends of ten years.

It was the feeling from that month-long journey to Zhongjing.

Dang Soran had approached him with intent, but time flew by unnoticed.

Fun.

That was certain.

“I can feed myself now.”

“No. If I don't do it this way, I'll feel bad. Ahh~”

She kept feeding him.

Dang Soran didn't use her own chopsticks.

Just the same pair: once to Han Seojin's mouth.

Then to her own, filling it with food.

Somehow, the food tasted better.

They'd shared porridge with grit before; no need to fuss here.

She was grateful to Cheongwol for showing her this joy.

But they couldn't keep this up forever.

Dang Soran knew time was running short.

She'd called Jegal Yong; he'd come to this room.

She needed to prepare before then.

“Young Master Seojin. Mind if I go upstairs for a bit?”

Dang Soran's chambers were two stories.

Han Seojin looked puzzled but didn't stop her.

“Do what you want.”

Suppressing her racing heart, she slowly headed upstairs.