Martial Arts Returnee’s Game Broadcast

Chapter 123

"If you feel protected day and night, you might quickly regain your stability."
The words left by Sok Gyeong-Seok lingered for a long time, making Hae Eung-eung's thoughts more complicated.

‘Sleeping together... Sleeping together... Do I really have to go that far?’

To share a bed with someone.
Even if there are no sinister intentions, it was impossible to hide the discomfort it stirred inside her.

‘I don’t even need to sleep in the first place.’

For her, the idea of sleeping wasn’t about rest, but more about identity.
It was just a waste of time, nothing more.

‘But if Ayoung wants that, maybe it’s okay to sleep in the same room for just one day.’

A fleeting impulse, one that might be fine because it was Ayoung.
Hae Eung-eung let herself act on that impulse.

[Come to my place tonight.]
"Wh-what? To your house?"
[If you don’t want to, it’s okay.]
"How could I not want to?! I’ll bring my pillow too, so let’s drop by my place first!"

Hae Eung-eung, with her finger on her chin, thought for a moment.
Then, lowering her hand, she wrote on her notepad.

[Then let’s do it there.]
"W-what do you mean by 'do it'?"
[Sleep together. In that house.]

Joo Ah-Young's face turned as red as a tomato.

‘What is Unnie thinking?’

Her heart pounded like a rabbit’s, and time seemed to pass without her even realizing how her day had ended or how her body moved.
On the way back home, Joo Ah-Young’s eyes spun as she heard Hae Eung-eung’s footsteps following her closely.

‘Is this a sign? Is this really happening??’

Joo Ah-Young liked her unnie.
She had fallen for the woman who saved her in a crisis, but over time, she had also become enchanted by her unnie’s quirky charm.
Sometimes, she even felt like her unnie was more of a younger sister than herself. Her pure, naïve side and, at times, the mature charm that shone through.
She liked all of it.
When her unnie taught her seriously how to wield a sword,
when she narrowed her eyes and gave advice,
when she would knock on her head with a notebook—everything.

[Let me step out for a moment.]
"Then, let’s wait and go together."
[Smoke is bad for your health.]
"Tch. You smoke just fine, Unnie."
[It’s not because I want to smoke.]

But her unnie was so mature.

[If I don’t smoke, I won’t be able to endure it.]
"Sometimes, I don’t know what you’re thinking. Did you really just come back from training in the mountains?"

Whenever the topic of the past came up, her unnie would always make a wistful expression and smile sadly.
Even though she knew she was dodging the truth,
even though she thought it was cowardly,
she couldn’t bring herself to ask about her unnie’s past anymore.

Joo Ah-Young went upstairs to her home first.
Hae Eung-eung silently watched her from behind.

‘People who can’t lie are such a pain.’

The moon waned,
and the streetlights dimmed.
The cold winter night breeze grew harsher,
while trash bags and pieces of old newspapers rolled like autumn leaves in an old playground.
With a pipe in her mouth,
Hae Eung-eung stood there,
blowing out the smoke,
inhaling it deeply,
and then letting it out into the night.

‘It’s easy to show your heart, but much harder to close it.’

Just like how you can’t swallow the smoke you’ve exhaled,
once you’ve opened your heart, you can’t just take it back.
Confessing is difficult,
but refusing is even harder.
People suffer because they love her,
but she suffers because people love her.

‘Can I even handle it?’

Cigarette ash can be swept away with a flick,
and the pipe can be cleaned at the outdoor washbasin.
But what about this heavy heart?
Where should I throw it away,
where should I wipe it clean?

With every step she took toward Joo Ah-Young’s house,
the sound of her footsteps echoed like the memories being trampled.
She pressed the doorbell and stepped into the open door.

"Would... would you like a can of beer?"

Her face was tense, full of fear about being rejected.
She hid her trembling hands behind her back but found the courage to speak.
Hae Eung-eung closed the door behind her, took off her shoes, and walked toward Joo Ah-Young instead of the table.

"Huh...?"

Joo Ah-Young took a step back in surprise.
But before she could retreat any further,
Hae Eung-eung quickly closed the distance between them and grabbed Joo Ah-Young’s shoulder, halting her attempt to run.

"Un...nie?"

The scent of cigarettes wafted heavily between them.
In the space between them, an indescribable fragrance emerged,
and the distance was so close that Joo Ah-Young could feel her breath on her face,
curling her toes in an attempt to steady herself.

The look in Hae Eung-eung’s eyes wasn’t one of excitement or passion.
It was the same indifferent expression she often wore when alone,
that unreadable face she would wear when she was lost in thought.

With that impassive expression, Hae Eung-eung reached out,
and placed her hand gently on Joo Ah-Young’s head, pulling her into her shoulder.

‘Just a little longer.’

As Joo Ah-Young, unable to hide her excited breathing, stood in the embrace,
the restlessness slowly subsided.
How long would she remain like this?
As she squirmed in Hae Eung-eung’s arms,
when it seemed like her unnie wouldn’t easily release her,
she gave in, her body going limp.

Comfort.
How long had it been since she had been held like this?
In the comforting embrace that reminded her of her orphanage director,
of her late parents.
In that peaceful embrace,
she softly closed her eyes and savored the moment.
However, this time,
when Hae Eung-eung’s feelings changed,
and as life doesn't always go as one wishes,
she loosened her grip on Joo Ah-Young’s shoulders
and separated her arms with both hands.

"Unnie?"
[This is fine.]

Looking into Joo Ah-Young’s trembling eyes,
Hae Eung-eung slowly flipped through her notepad.

[Eat with a cherished younger sister.]
[Watch over a cherished disciple’s training.]
[Spend the night with them on nights that feel like nightmares.]

Like the days that had repeated until now.

[This moment is fine.]

It wasn’t a confession.
It was a cruel declaration disguised as a confession.

"That’s enough."

Joo Ah-Young grabbed the notepad as Hae Eung-eung tried to turn the page.

"You don’t need to tell me what comes next."

Joo Ah-Young turned her head away.
Somehow, she had expected this to happen.

"It’s cowardly. To do that."
"..."
"Why even bother being nice? Why make me excited from the start?"

Her voice cracked with sobs.
The pain in her chest was overwhelming.
She wasn’t someone who didn’t know what this feeling was.
It was not something she didn’t understand.

"I knew it. I knew you didn’t feel the same way."

But today, maybe it was different.
Joo Ah-Young held onto the hope that this time would be special.
Her unnie had taken the first step,
which made it even more painful.
She realized that her unnie’s embrace,
her kindness,
was a way of telling her to give up before she was hurt again.

"It was really scary. When I thought you’d never come back. When I thought I’d never see you again. I thought I could never confess my feelings."
"..."
"But maybe it would have been better back then. If I’d known it would be this painful. It’s strange, right? I wanted to see you so much, but now that we’re together, it hurts more."

A flower cannot hide its fragrance.
Sometimes, another flower, intoxicated by the scent,
loses its petals,
but it is a longing that cannot be fulfilled.
The fallen petals slowly dry up
and eventually rot away.

"Is it really that you prefer men?"
[No, that’s not it.]
"Then it’s a lie."
[I think women are better, if I had to choose.]
"Then why not me? Am I not feminine enough in your eyes? Not mature like Han Chae-Rin? Not strong like Nina or Nana-Se?"

So, is that it?
Joo Ah-Young's small, resentful complaint carried both a bit of jealousy and a little frustration.

Cough.

The answer that came back wasn’t one of Hae Eung-eung’s usual elegant writings,
but a harsh, dry cough that came from deep inside her chest,
sending a chill down the listener’s spine.

"Unnie...?"

With her hand quickly covering her mouth,
Hae Eung-eung tried to hide her hand,
but Joo Ah-Young didn’t let go, grabbing the sleeve of her arm.

"What... What is this? Why are you like this?"
[It’s nothing.]
"It’s not nothing! This... this is blood!"

On Hae Eung-eung’s sleeve,
there was a clear streak of red blood.

"Isn’t it because you’ve been smoking with your throat in bad condition? How can you neglect your health like this?"
[It’s not that.]
"Then tell me! Don’t just deny it, explain why!"

It couldn’t be helped.
The burning pain that wouldn’t subside,
Hae Eung-eung reluctantly grabbed her notepad.
She knew it would only worry Joo Ah-Young more if she told her,
but it was already too late to keep it a secret.

[My lifespan isn’t very long.]

Joo Ah-Young’s heart sank.

She had thought something was wrong, but this sudden revelation?
It was a brutal truth she couldn’t process with her mind,
a truth she heard but couldn’t fully understand.

[The stronger I get, the faster my life is running out.]

Qi obstruction.
Meridians twisting and blood vessels closing.
The more internal energy I build,
the stronger my innate Yin energy becomes,
and the speed at which my life shortens
and my blood vessels deteriorate
grows steeper.

‘The 5 years of cultivation were fine, but of course, the Yin energy from 14 years of cultivation couldn’t be suppressed without damage.’

The side effect of practicing twelve different martial arts in a short period,
with each requiring different paths of blood and energy control,
caused an overload in my meridians.
Mastery beyond the limits
has only hastened my end.

[The time left for me will continue to decrease faster.]

Even with cigarettes to suppress the pain,
I might need to use stronger substances soon.

"That’s... That’s..."

Joo Ah-Young couldn’t continue, her throat choked up.
Even if she didn’t understand the medical terms,
she knew exactly what this meant.

"Isn’t this... the end point for ascendants?"

No, it couldn’t be.
Joo Ah-Young refused to accept it.

"Can it be fixed? You helped Shinseonggwak with his condition, didn’t you? Right?"

Hae Eung-eung shook her head.
The end point and the Qi obstruction were different.
Joo Ah-Young felt a deep despair.
Though the meanings were different,
the message was clear.
Her unnie’s illness couldn’t be cured.

‘Just like how even the most skilled doctors can’t heal their own diseases, unnie can’t heal her own illness.’

When she dreamed of happy times with her unnie,
she had never imagined
that Hae Eung-eung’s time was being stolen from her,
the time she should be growing,
the time she should be moving away from the end point.
Joo Ah-Young had unknowingly taken that from her.

‘Unnie didn’t hurt me. It was the other way around.’

An inexpressible guilt twisted around Joo Ah-Young’s heart.

Clink.

Joo Ah-Young realized.
A huge lock had been fastened inside her chest.
The emotions locked within it
could never be released again,
nor should they be.