CMW | Chapter 1.6

Every word from his mouth pierced Lee Hwasu’s skin like needles. He wanted to retort, saying the man didn’t know him well enough to spout such nonsense, but the words wouldn’t come easily.

It was clear that without the strength to confront him, any words would be useless. No matter how much he shouted now, it would be nothing more than a child crying and whining.

Lee Hwasu kept his mouth shut and stripped off his damp clothes. Earlier, Ju Ryongjin had torn his undergarments in the reed field, leaving him with nothing underneath. Now, sitting by the fire without a stitch of clothing, he shivered every time the wind blew.

He considered using energy circulation to warm himself, but with Ju Ryongjin right in front of him, he couldn’t afford to let his guard down. Besides, sitting cross-legged while completely naked felt far too awkward.

At that moment, Ju Ryongjin tossed his outer garment to him. He, too, was lightly dressed, wearing only a single layer underneath. Noticing the large testicles between his legs, Lee Hwasu grimaced. Ju Ryongjin, catching his reaction, snapped.

“If you don’t want it, give it back.”

Instead of answering, Lee Hwasu slipped his arms into the outer garment. Despite being thin, it was warm—likely because it was silk. The only thing that bothered him was the bloodstains scattered all over the fabric…

As he examined it with distaste, he suddenly realized something—there was no smell of blood. When he had first gotten close to Ju Ryongjin, the scent had been overwhelming. So, what had changed? The moment the question arose, he understood the reason.

Earlier, when he had burrowed into Ju Ryongjin’s embrace to escape the cold, he had grown accustomed to his scent. By now, his own body was probably infused with the smell of blood… and Ju Ryongjin’s semen.

It was an extremely unpleasant thought, but Ju Ryongjin didn’t give him time to throw off the garment. The moment Lee Hwasu’s trembling subsided, Ju Ryongjin stood up abruptly. Grabbing his waist, he said,

“Let’s go.”

⋆. 𐙚 ˚જ⁀➴

What Ju Ryongjin said wasn’t just empty words. The Heavenly Mountain, located at the edge of the Central Plains beyond Qinghai and the desert, was truly an uninhabited and remote path. To reach it, one had to soar over ridges, cross rivers formed by melted snow, and navigate through densely packed forests.

At a place seemingly touching the sky, where peaks covered in eternal snow stretched endlessly, stood the Heavenly God Palace—the hideout of the Heaven-Splitting Calamity Demon, Ju Ryongjin.

In front of the Heavenly No-Gate, its surface coldly frozen as if carved from ice, stood two towering giants, each ten feet tall, who claimed to be its gatekeepers. The moment they saw Ju Ryongjin flying in from afar, they opened the gate without hesitation.

Crack… Crash!

As the frozen door creaked open, thick layers of congealed frost and snow shattered, scattering in all directions. Ice shards, sharp as hidden weapons, flew through the air, but Ju Ryongjin moved forward unfazed, breaking through them with ease.

They stepped inside, entering a space far too vast to be called a mere cavern. Lee Hwasu, still tucked under Ju Ryongjin’s arm, squeezed his eyes shut against the sudden, blinding light.

“Ah…”

Barely managing to open his eyes with a groan, Lee Hwasu found himself in an entirely different world. The scenery before him, reminiscent of a half-wall landscape painting, left him breathless. It was as if he were gazing upon paradise—a vast basin overflowing with exotic flowers and lush greenery, all encircled by towering cliffs.

Below, grand pavilions rested atop surreal rock formations, their elegant silhouettes blending harmoniously with nature. A high bridge, reminiscent of a rainbow, arched gracefully in place of a traditional path, its ethereal beauty making the sight even more mesmerizing.

Ju Ryongjin, however, didn’t bother with the bridge. With a flutter of his robes, he soared across using his lightness skill, landing effortlessly in front of a pavilion adorned with gold-painted pillars and railings.

Heavenly Dragon Hall.

Lee Hwasu frowned at the arrogant signboard. Ju Ryongjin, having set him down, rolled his shoulders as if shaking off an unseen weight and said,

“Don’t get too excited. This isn’t where you’ll be staying.”

Lee Hwasu lifted his gaze, his voice cold. “Judging by the extravagance, even the prison must be made of gold.”

Seeing him talk back, Ju Ryongjin chuckled. Just as he was about to say something, someone came running out from inside.

“Leader!”

The person who ran out, calling with a voice full of joy, hugged Ju Ryongjin tightly. Judging by the appearance and voice, it was undoubtedly a man, yet he rubbed his head and whined coquettishly.

“You said you’d be back soon, so why did it take so long?”

Ju Ryongjin naturally embraced him and fondled his buttocks. “It took time because I went all the way to Shaanxi after a long time.”

Unable to watch with open eyes, Lee Hwasu blushed and quickly turned his head. It was truly indescribably vulgar and obscene.

Ignoring Lee Hwasu’s disgust, or perhaps flaunting it, Ju Ryongjin teased the man’s collar.

“Ah, you shouldn’t do this here.”

“What’s the problem? Didn’t you run out expecting this?”

“You shouldn’t see me as so easy.”

“It’s funny to say that when your front is already slick and wet.”

The obscene conversation between the two felt like it was rotting his ears. Standing awkwardly, Lee Hwasu didn’t know what to do and just bit his innocent lips. Meanwhile, the man groping Ju Ryongjin grumbled jealously.

“Where did you throw away your coat again? Judging by your bare state, you must have been after the butts of young greenhorns again?”

“The best butt is yours, so it doesn’t matter, right?”

“That’s true, but… Wait a minute.”

The man paused, noticing Lee Hwasu wearing Ju Ryongjin’s coat. Seeing the man’s strange expression, Lee Hwasu glanced sideways and then widened his eyes upon seeing the man’s face.

“Young Master Tang… Tang Seoran?”

The man in Ju Ryongjin’s arms was Tang Seoran, the second son of the Sichuan Tang Clan. The Tang Clan was a prestigious family famous for their hidden weapons and poison techniques, and among them, Tang Seoran, known as One Laugh, One Kill, was famous.

He was said to have a very ruthless personality, contrary to his beautiful appearance, which earned him the nickname of the Blue Spring Orchid of Sichuan. How could such a person be acting like a tongue in Ju Ryongjin’s mouth?

For Lee Hwasu, who had faced him in the past Yongbong Tournament, it was a shock. It felt like being hit on the head with a stone, leaving him dazed with a ringing in his ears.

Tang Seoran seemed equally surprised. He flinched as if he had seen a ghost, then turned to Ju Ryongjin and demanded urgently.

“Isn’t it enough that you devoured the old men of the Kunlun Sect? Why did you bring that one here?”

Ju Ryongjin wore a bothered expression. Ignoring this, Tang Seoran pointed accusingly at Lee Hwasu.

“Do you really have to break the red plum blossom to be satisfied…?”

The words Ju Ryongjin had murmured earlier flashed through his mind.

‘The blue spring orchid of the Tang Clan, the red plum blossom of Mount Hua?’

Tang Seoran must have remembered that too. His face, carefully adorned with powder, twisted in frustration, and he whimpered.

“Because of someone, I’m doing something no different from a courtesan…!”

At his continued protest, Ju Ryongjin’s brow furrowed with annoyance. He grabbed Tang Seoran’s hair and pulled it, speaking coldly.

“You chose to act like a courtesan. If you don’t like it, I’ll throw you out of the Heavenly No-Gate right now.”

“Ugh…!”

“Of course, even if you return to the Tang Clan, it’s doubtful you’ll be able to act like a proper man.”

Ju Ryongjin, mocking Tang Seoran, suddenly pressed his lips against his when he tried to shout. Tang Seoran seemed to resist, pounding on Ju Ryongjin’s chest, but it was only for a moment. Soon, he stopped punching and wrapped his arms around Ju Ryongjin’s shoulders.

Lee Hwasu was dumbfounded by the absurd scene.

‘What on earth am I witnessing right now?’

At that moment, even as Ju Ryongjin kissed Tang Seoran, his gaze never wavered from Lee Hwasu.

When Lee Hwasu snapped back to reality, Ju Ryongjin—without breaking the kiss—lifted his free hand and gestured toward Heavenly Dragon Hall. Taking it as a silent command, Lee Hwasu quickly turned away and made his way inside.

The interior of Heavenly Dragon Hall was breathtaking in its grandeur. Towering pillars stretched endlessly, supporting an impossibly high ceiling. Lanterns adorned with silk and encrusted with jewels hung in abundance, casting a warm, shimmering glow across the hall. Even the spaces between the jade-tiled floor gleamed with gold.

The sheer extravagance was overwhelming—so much so that even the emperor’s palace might pale in comparison. Lee Hwasu stood frozen for a moment, momentarily stunned by the opulence before him.

He wandered aimlessly, unsure of where to go. Just then, someone stepped into his path and bowed politely. When Lee Hwasu halted and looked up, a young attendant—no older than seventeen—raised his head and spoke.

“Are you the Plum Blossom Sword Wolf, Lee Hwasu?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Please follow me. I will guide you to your quarters.”

Following the attendant who led the way, Lee Hwasu moved his feet. The attendant passed through Heavenly Dragon Hall and headed toward the back.

Beyond the hall, a vast pond stretched out—so large it could easily be mistaken for a lake. A bridge extended across the water, connecting to a small rocky island before continuing to the opposite shore. At the far end of the bridge, a modest pavilion came into view.

The attendant walked briskly, crossing the bridge onto the rocky island before stepping onto another that led directly to the pavilion. The structure was modest, consisting of only a few rooms and a wooden floor, its exterior unadorned and lacking even a nameplate. Unlike the opulence of Heavenly Dragon Hall, this place exuded a stark, almost monastic serenity.

“If you stay here, I will bring you a meal. After you eat, I will prepare bathwater and a change of clothes.”

“…Thank you.”

At Lee Hwasu’s words of gratitude, the attendant hesitated. Seemingly awkward with the compliment, he fidgeted for a moment before bowing hastily and scurrying outside.

Once the attendant disappeared, Lee Hwasu sat down at the edge of the wooden floor. With Ju Ryongjin gone and finally alone, the tension in his body eased, leaving him feeling as heavy as waterlogged cotton.

The whirlwind of events had been overwhelming—too much to process all at once. He felt like collapsing then and there, surrendering to exhaustion, but he couldn’t. No matter how comfortable his surroundings seemed, he had to remind himself, again and again, that he was deep in enemy territory.

Forcing the weariness aside, Lee Hwasu immediately sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and began regulating his breathing, focusing his mind through meditation.