Suddenly, Tang So-wol, who had crawled over on all fours, began tugging at Cheon Hwi's cheeks.
"The Sword Demon… he's fine usually, but looking at him like this, he's a bit ugly. Heheheh."
"…Are you drunk?"
Her behavior was so unlike her usual self. The smell of alcohol wafting off her was sharp enough to sting the nose. Anyone could see she was a person drunk and making a fuss.
Of course, it was absurd. Even if the Tang Clan had been exterminated and some of their secret arts lost, Tang So-wol was still a Transcendent Peak martial artist. And one who wielded the poison art, at that.
Could someone like her really get this drunk from just a bit of alcohol?
"She's lost her mind."
This time, Cheon Hwi's lips were squished into a duckbill by Tang So-wol's hand, and he wore a look of utter bewilderment—but that didn't make the drunkard before him vanish into thin air.
A sudden bout of drunken mischief that neither Cheon Hwi nor the intoxicated Tang So-wol understood.
But the one watching this had a different story. She immediately realized why her past self had suddenly lost her mind.
"Good heavens! Was I really this foolish before the regression?!"
Cheon Hwi and Tang So-wol had been thrown into battle after battle recently, and their exhaustion had reached its peak.
So, once things had finally settled down, they'd held a small drinking session—partly to celebrate, partly to mourn those who had died.
Surely a brief moment of letting loose would ease their mental fatigue and give their bodies a proper rest.
But here, one problem arose. No matter how tired or depleted in internal energy most martial artists were, it only meant they got drunk a little faster.
Cheon Hwi's face was also slightly flushed, the alcohol rising to his head faster than usual.
But Tang So-wol, born with the Poison Spirit Constitution, was a different case.
The Poison Spirit Constitution is a constitution that allows a Poison Human to absorb poison, store it, and, depending on their internal energy and will, recreate it.
And alcohol, strictly speaking, is also a poison. The term "alcohol toxin" exists for a reason.
So what happens when alcohol suddenly enters a Poison Spirit Constitution that has only been expelling the poison it had, without the time to replenish it, and is even lacking in internal energy?
It would absorb it like mad to fill the deficiency.
And this was the result. She hadn't even drunk a few cups, but thanks to her Poison Spirit Constitution diligently absorbing the alcohol, she was completely drunk.
Of course, Cheon Hwi, unaware of this fact, was simply bewildered, and Tang So-wol, before the regression, was already too drunk to know what was going on.
What was to come next was now entirely up to Tang So-wol, the one who still had her wits about her.
For a moment, as she watched, her fingertips trembling, memories of the past began to surface in Tang So-wol's mind.
Seol Ri-hyang's pleasures of cloud and rain, which put even the finest spring paintings to shame. Seomun Hwa-rin, a Harmony Realm martial artist, stealing undergarments.
And herself, having completely lost her reason to drink.
She might have been better off than the previous two, but shame was shame, no matter what.
"Ah, no! That's enough! Go wash your feet and go to sleep, I said!"
Tang So-wol flailed her arms, trying to push her drunken self away… but no matter how vivid it felt, this was, in the end, merely a space replaying the scenery of memory.
Her gestures simply passed through her other self without effect. And even amidst this futile struggle, time flowed on.
Her snow-white hair swayed as her half-lidded green eyes came into view. What lay within them was none of the businesslike attitude or thirst for vengeance she had shown until now.
A hint of playfulness, unmistakable goodwill, and a faint trace of gratitude.
As if, for this one moment, she had returned to her childhood and become honest with herself, Tang So-wol released Cheon Hwi's face—only to begin slowly tracing it with her fingers.
Her touch swept across his forehead, eyes, nose, mouth, ears, cheekbones, and jawline in turn.
No. It didn't end there. Tang So-wol leaned her face in close, studying Cheon Hwi's features intently from a distance just short of touching forehead to forehead.
Surely she hadn't expected him to go this far, or perhaps she thought this was going too far. It was at that moment Cheon Hwi carefully tried to set the drunken Tang So-wol down.
"Ah. Now I can finally see your face properly, Sword Demon."
"…What did you say?"
To say it once more, Tang So-wol was a Transcendent Peak martial artist. Compared to an ordinary civilian, she was practically a superhuman.
And yet, it was only now that they were this close that he could see her face. That was clearly strange.
"Surely you haven't injured your eyes."
Cheon Hwi asked in his usual gruff voice, though if one listened closely, there was a hint more concern in it than usual.
Noticing this, Tang So-wol broke into a loose smile and vigorously shook her head.
"No, no… it's just that my eyes have always been bad."
"Always?"
"Yes. You know that too, Sword Demon."
Tang So-wol lifted the bangs she always kept long, revealing the skin beneath.
There, the flesh was melted and stuck together, and her eyes had clouded over with a murky discoloration.
It was a rather grotesque sight, but Cheon Hwi simply gazed at Tang So-wol's eyes as if nothing were amiss. His expression still carried concern.
At that, the smile at Tang So-wol's lips deepened beyond measure, and she began to laugh outright.
"Heh heh. You really are unchanging, Sword Demon…"
"What nonsense is this all of a sudden? Enough. Just answer my earlier question. Your eyes are fine, aren't they?"
"Yeees. They're fine. It's not like they suddenly went bad—they've been worsening little by little for a long time, so adapting hasn't been a problem at all."
"So you're saying they're still getting worse."
"Wouldn't it be so, as long as I keep this face covered? I overwork one eye, and my bangs keep poking at it, after all."
"…"
After a long moment of silence, Cheon Hwi finally asked cautiously.
"It's an ugly scar, sure, but is there really a reason to go that far to hide it?"
"Everyone has wounds they can't do anything about. Isn't that the same for you, Sword Demon?"
"…"
Tang So-wol poked Cheon Hwi's chest with her index finger. It wasn't hard to realize she was referring to his past—the Simma he had vowed to swallow and never forget.
Though Cheon Hwi and Tang So-wol rarely spoke of personal matters, they had fought back-to-back together more times than either could count.
He would have been able to tell what was contained in his opponent's martial art, even if he didn't want to.
A moment of silence flowed between them. As they exchanged only glances without a word, it was Tang So-wol who spoke first.
"I was once called the most beautiful woman in Sichuan."
"It shows."
"Heh heh. I appreciate the flattery, even if it's empty."
"It's not empty. 'Once' means before that scar appeared, doesn't it?"
"…Yes. That's right."
She nodded and slowly began to unravel her old story.
Murim Debut. The time I nearly lost my life after being caught up in the grudges others held against the Tang Clan.
The time I swallowed a purple poison-nurturing herb I'd stumbled upon in a desperate bid to turn the situation around, and immediately let it run rampant through my body.
And so I barely survived, but half my face melted away, and I spent my days holed up in my room.
I neglected my martial arts training, skipped clan events, and even missed the Dragon Phoenix Gathering I'd so eagerly anticipated.
I had become a burden to the Tang Clan, yet my family always embraced me with warmth.
Thanks to them, it took a long time, but I eventually managed to stand back up, and it was in that moment that I reached the Transcendent Peak.
And not long after, the Heavenly Demon came crashing through the Tang Clan's front gate.
Even as my family and the servants who were like family to me were being slaughtered, I had to cower in hiding and flee in disgrace.
Tang So-wol haltingly poured out every regret and despair she had felt, and the loss that came with them.
In a way, it was a story that could feel burdensome. Both for herself and for the one listening.
But Cheon Hwi listened seriously until the very end. As someone trapped in a hell of his own making, it was not a story he could easily brush aside.
After hearing everything, Cheon Hwi did not offer comfort. Instead, he shared his own story.
"My oldest memory is hunger."
He had been starving. Hungry enough to crawl on his own two feet to the feet of his enemy.
But in the end, Cheon Hwi succeeded in his revenge, and lived like an animal, wandering the provinces of Zhejiang.
And then he met them. The ones who turned him from a beast back into a man.
But what followed was not a happy future—only loss upon loss.
Cheon Hwi spoke of everything leading up to the present in that calm tone.
As Tang So-wol listened blankly, Cheon Hwi, having finished his story, added in an awkward voice.
"I rather like you."
"…Huh?!"
Caught off guard by the unexpected remark, Tang So-wol nearly bit her tongue, but Cheon Hwi continued as if he hadn't noticed.
"I'm confident in my sword art, but my internal energy is sorely lacking. I can win against a strong individual, but I tire easily against a crowd of ordinary men. Your poison, on the other hand, easily gains the upper hand against numbers."
"Ah. So that's what you meant."
Tang So-wol nodded reluctantly.
As Cheon Hwi had said, the two of their martial arts complemented each other. That was why they had so often fought together as comrades-in-arms.
However, Cheon Hwi's next words carried a slightly more personal sentiment.
"So don't blame yourself too much. Instead, direct your anger toward the enemy. And if the day ever comes when even that feels too heavy… then let's share a drink like this."
"…Huh?"
"If you have something weighing on you, let it out. We already know each other's deepest secrets, so there's no reason to feel embarrassed."
Cheon Hwi had come to understand Tang So-wol without even realizing it. Though the details differed, the texture of the wound left by loss was the same.
And so, the words Cheon Hwi spoke now were ones whose meaning he himself had not yet fully grasped.
Sometimes, words sink deeper precisely because they are spoken without full awareness.
"If something happens to you, Tang So-wol, that would be a problem. You need to stay by my side from now on."
"…"
Tang So-wol, who had been blankly mulling over Cheon Hwi's words, slowly nodded.
"Yess. I promise. If I need to, I'll lean on you, Sword Demon."
"Hm."
"So, you too—when things truly become impossible, lean on me as well."
"What?"
"Isn't that only fair? We're comrades who fight shoulder to shoulder, not a relationship where one side is carried by the other."
"…I suppose you're right."
Cheon Hwi let out a small laugh and picked up the liquor bottle to refill his empty cup.
As if she had been waiting for that, Tang So-wol held out her own cup.
He shook his head with a wry smile and filled her cup to the brim, and this time, Tang So-wol snatched the bottle away and poured for Cheon Hwi in turn.
There was no particular exchange of words. The two simply raised their cups and drank at the same time, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
A man born with nothing, and a woman who had lost everything—for the two of them to grow close, no special occasion was needed.
But if even that humble occasion had a beginning, then surely it was this very moment.
Well, there was the small problem that Tang So-wol, who was already quite drunk, downed another cup and completely lost her composure.
Tang So-wol spread both arms wide and spoke with a slurred tongue.
"Hold me…"
"That's a bit…"
"Then pat my head."
"That's also a bit…"
"Ah, just do it!"
"…"
"Just do it!"
Tang So-wol was now on the floor, flailing her limbs and throwing a tantrum.
Only when Cheon Hwi let out a deep sigh and slowly stroked her head did she finally calm down.
In particular, whenever his hand touched the half of her face she always kept covered, Tang So-wol relaxed even more.
But if he stopped, thinking she had fallen asleep, she would immediately wake up and start causing a ruckus again, so in the end Cheon Hwi had no choice but to keep indulging her demands all night long.
With the fatigue that had piled up until now and the unexpected all-nighter, Cheon Hwi only managed to fall into a deep, fainting-like sleep as dawn was breaking.
Tang So-wol, on the other hand, had only woken up a few times in the middle of the night, and having apparently gotten enough sleep, she opened her eyes beside the defenseless Cheon Hwi.
"Ah! Huh! Nyaa!"
Tang So-wol writhed in embarrassment as she recalled the previous night with a now-clear mind.
Surprisingly, the real Tang So-wol, who was watching this, let out the same voice and the same squirming.
But it didn't end there.
The Tang So-wol in her memory barely managed to compose herself, then looked down at the deeply sleeping Cheon Hwi and fell into thought.
After agonizing for a long while, she nodded… then, without hesitation, she undid Cheon Hwi's top.
"All of a sudden?! Why?!"
Tang So-wol, startled by her past self's sudden boldness, jumped up—but there was nothing she could do other than jump up.
Cheon Hwi, exhausted from accumulated fatigue, slept so soundly that he wouldn't react even if someone touched him. Tang So-wol's hands crept over his bare torso for a moment.
She slammed her head into Cheon Hwi's torso and began licking him.
Even meticulously, so as not to miss a single spot.
It was an incomprehensible act… but to the current Tang So-wol, who had mastered the poison art, it looked somewhat different.
"Y-you're going too far with that…!"
The Tang So-wol in her memories wasn't simply licking Cheon Hwi—she was applying poison to him.
A poison that revealed his location, a poison that gave off a subtly unpleasant scent if another woman smelled it, a poison that made the scent of a matching partner smell fragrant, and even a weak aphrodisiac that only activated when combined with a specific poison.
It was practically pickling him in poison. A possessiveness so intense that even Tang So-wol, who had to watch it, was horrified.
"T-that crazy bitch…"
He rarely cursed, and even rarer was cursing at himself, but no matter how much he did, nothing changed.
Tang So-wol from before the regression was still meticulously applying poison to Cheon Hwi's body.
After finishing the final application on the nape of his neck, she properly dressed him, as if nothing had happened at all.
Then, writhing between satisfaction and the shame that rose belatedly, Tang So-wol left the room.
The current Tang So-wol, forced to confront her own past slyness, was blankly staring at that retreating figure.
"Wow… Sister Dang. This is just…"
"At least I didn't jump on Cheon Hwi while he was asleep…"
"Huh?"
Only then did Tang So-wol realize how her actions must have looked to those who knew nothing of poison arts.
A lingering territorial mark. Or, worse, a lecherous advance on a sleeping Cheon Hwi.
Already flustered, Tang So-wol's face turned even paler.
"Ah, no, it's not that! It's not what you're thinking at all!"
"If Sister Tang says so, then that's how it is."
"Mmm. This one was merely trying to help with the laundry. That's all there is to it."
Even as they nodded, Seol Ri-hyang and Seomun Hwa-rin were slowly, subtly inching away from Tang So-wol.
It was summer.