Changli stood frozen, torn between exhaustion, hunger, thirst—and something else. Ambivalence.
Before her, a boy nearly her height but three years younger, as she well remembered from their first chaotic encounter in that white abyss. And now, here he was again, holding out a pancake.
The aroma teased her, making her stomach clench painfully, but pride was a cruel master.
"I—I don't want it!" she snapped before spinning on her heel and fleeing, her dignity outweighing her hunger.
Kyorin merely shrugged at the outburst, recognizing it not as true rejection but as defiance out of pride conservation.
Tap—
A hand landed on his shoulder. The weight was negligible, yet Kyorin felt as if an entire mountain had settled upon him. His gaze lifted, meeting the ever-amused smile of Xuanmiao.
"May I have one?" the old man, who had yesterday almost killed him casually inquired.
Without hesitation, Kyorin extended the pancake once meant for Changli.
But Xuanmiao's interest wasn't in the food—it was in the way Kyorin offered it. No fear, no expectation, not a peace offering either. He simply gave, which Xuanmiao accepted.
"Why are you handing out pancakes, kiddo?" Xuanmiao asked, taking a bite.
"Isn't it tradition to offer pancakes (Jeon) when moving into a new neighborhood," Kyorin replied.
"True, but that's not all, is it?" Xuanmiao pressed, curious about Kyorin's reasoning. But how could he grasp what even an entity with billions of data points on human emotion couldn't?
Kyorin exhaled, sensing the old man's amusement-driven prodding. It was tiresome, and that realization made him cringe inwardly.
Annoyance.
The word settled in his mind. Yes, that's what it was—irritation at the constant pestering of others.
For someone who had lived without social entanglements, this endless push and pull was... annoying.
Yet, keeping his composure, he simply replied, "I'm just helping my mother."
Xuanmiao's gaze flickered with interest. 'Obedient to his mother, is he?'
"What about your father?" He inquired, albeit it may have been bold as Kyorin stopped.
A brief pause. Should he lie? Deflect? His mind drifted to Changli, who had misunderstood so much about him. No, this man might be the same. Better to be direct.
"He ran away with another woman," Kyorin answered flatly.
Xuanmiao paused, weighing the boy's words. No anger, no bitterness—just a detached acceptance, as if time had dulled the meaning.
But Xuanmiao wasn't one to take things at face value. He studied Kyorin, sensing the quiet turbulence beneath his calm—a storm kept at bay, a question left unasked.
"You're not really bothered by it, are you?" His voice carried a quiet challenge.
Kyorin blinked, caught off guard. For a moment, he considered a convenient lie but dismissed it just as quickly.
"No," he said. "It's just the way it is."
Xuanmiao watched him a moment longer before shrugging, neither convinced nor dismissive. There was something odd about the boy—an undercurrent of contradiction that eluded easy explanation.
Kyorin felt the weight of that lingering gaze but chose not to respond. He turned stiffly and took a step to another direction, yet Xuanmiao followed him.
At first, it seemed like they were simply heading in the same direction. But even after Kyorin took deliberate turns, the old man lingered, his presence like a shadow.
Worse still, Xuanmiao kept talking—asking all sorts of questions, his voice an unshakable current against Kyorin's fraying patience. Irritation flickered in his chest as the old man's presence distorted time itself, stretching each moment unbearably thin.
Kyorin didn't want this interaction—didn't want there to be yet another exchange of words that weighed down his already dysphoric thoughts. He attempted to ignore the old man, he hurried his steps, the soft shuffle of his footsteps the only sound.
But Xuanmiao was persistent.
The old man trailed behind him, chuckling as Kyorin handed out pancakes to passersby, his ever-present smile unreadable. Ten pancakes, ten people, yet Xuanmiao remained, observing, waiting.
Kyorin felt his patience thinning, irritation rising like an unchecked tide. He wanted solitude. Silence. But the old man's presence clung to him, a quiet reminder that no matter how much he distanced himself, society would always pull him back.
Finally, he turned, voice sharp and unrestrained. "Why are you following me?"
Xuanmiao's amusement didn't waver. "You don't fit in here."
Kyorin paused. An ordinary person might have bristled, taken the words as an accusation of being an outcast. But Kyorin saw beyond them.
"I imagine," Xuanmiao continued, "that without a father figure, your previous life must have been… insignificant."
It was a taunt, but Kyorin gave no reaction. If anything, his indifference only deepened the old man's amusement.
'Murderous, yet patient…' Xuanmiao mused. Perhaps 'Spider' suits him best. Just as he had nicknamed Changli 'Baby Phoenix', he now gave Kyorin a name befitting his nature.
"Kiddo, this new life of yours… You've learned how to exist within it," Xuanmiao smiled, "but not how to live with it."
Kyorin remained silent.
"You're bothered," the old man continued, his voice tinged with understanding. "By the presence of others. By the transition into a life you didn't have before."
Still, Kyorin said nothing, but his silence spoke volumes.
"Expectations."
The word settled in his mind. That was it, wasn't it? He had expected—foolishly—that he wouldn't have to deal with so many interactions.
Xuanmiao continued, his words echoing Kyorin's thoughts. "Stepping out of the shade expecting the same coolness, and of course, you'll suffer under the sun."
Kyorin exhaled, acknowledging the truth of it. But he didn't let it show.
Kyorin bowed to the old man, surprised at himself for expressing gratitude. "Thank you," he said, though the feeling barely lingered before slipping away as if it had never been there.
Xuanmiao, ever watchful, tilted his head. "Listen, kiddo. If you truly wish to be unbothered by society, you could always come train in the mountains with me."
Kyorin shook his head. "I believe that I will not have a good relationship with my elder martial sister if I go there," he flatly stated.
The old man chuckled. "Maybe you two can work it out."
Kyorin neither agreed nor refused. "Perhaps. But for now, I ought to keep to myself—'at least until I've finished digesting my current self'." There was an undercurrent of struggle in his tone, subtle yet present.
Xuanmiao misread his words, assuming Kyorin spoke of his present life. It wasn't entirely wrong, but it didn't quite capture what Kyorin truly meant.
Before either could say more, two voices called out at once.
""There you are!""
Kyorin and Xuanmiao turned to see two figures approaching—one a grown woman with the same dark navy hair as Kyorin, the other a salmon-pink hair child, who held a pancake in her hand.
Changli's eyes locked onto Kyorin, and she immediately spat, "Pervert, you—!"
At the same time, Xia called out, "Son!"
""—!!?""
A tense silence hung between them as both women exchanged glances before turning to Kyorin.
Observing this, DEVA began laughing hysterically, circuits buzzing in delight as she seemed to munch on electrical currents as if they were popcorns.
'Oh, this is rich!' she mused internally, the gourd tied to Kyorin's belt humming ever so slightly, pulsating.
Of course, DEVA didn't declare her amusement aloud, but Kyorin could tell she had no intention of helping him. Not that he expected it—she was uninvolved, after all. Still, his gaze flickered to Xuanmiao, if only because the child in question was his student.
Xuanmiao, however, merely coughed and turned away. "Ahem. Not my problem," he muttered, making a deliberate show of gazing elsewhere.
Not that Kyorin had expected his intervention either. It seemed he was on his own as Xia and Changli closed the distance.
Changli lowered her gaze, realizing she had just called the kind lady's son a pervert. Meanwhile, Xia, though furious, restrained herself—she lacked the full context, and so, instead of lashing out, she declared, "All of you, let's move somewhere else."
She gazed around. A crowd had gathered, and whispers had already begun to spread.
"Pervert?"
"Is that lass referring to that kid?"
"Look at her dress—she looks like a beggar."
"What horrendous thing could that boy have done?"
The murmurs were sharp, all directed at Kyorin. Yet he remained unmoved. These insults were nothing compared to those he had endured before.
What struck him as more curious was the silence of both Changli and Xuanmiao. They knew the truth, yet neither spoke in his defense.
But again, Kyorin held no expectations.
If they didn't speak now, they likely wouldn't later either—giving him the opportunity to explain himself when the time came. That was enough.
"Society is quite coldhearted," DEVA remarked.
"Indeed," Kyorin agreed.
A woman's dignity was highly valued, but that didn't mean society ignored men—unless it was blindly biased toward the other party.
Yet, in Changli's case, she was dressed as a beggar. There was no way society would favor her just because of her gender.
And that was the other truth of the world—it valued what you are more than who you are. A world that praises the accomplished ones with backing.
Perhaps this old man does not put on many airs, Kyorin thought. If Xuanmiao's identity as an expert were widely known, many would try to curry favor with him. But perhaps the old man preferred isolation from such things.
In his quietness and unassuming presence, Xuanmiao had unwittingly granted Kyorin an opportunity—and of course, he would take it.
Now seated around a table in the house, the four of them remained aware of the curious murmurs outside. Xia wanted nothing more than to scold the onlookers for their shamelessness, but she held her tongue.
If her son's name wasn't cleared, he would suffer the same treatment he had in Yang Niu.
"Son, please tell me the truth," Xia demanded, her voice firm. "You even came home bruised yesterday—was that also because of this incident that has marred you with such a disgusting name?"
Kyorin nodded. "Indeed, Mother."
Then, he explained. He had simply wanted to take a bath without spending money, and upon hearing of an unclaimed hot spring, he decided to explore it.
Instead, he had stumbled upon Changli mid-bath. He had intended to leave, but she had noticed him, and from there, chaos had ensued. He detailed the fight, how Xuanmiao had intervened, bound him, and how he had suffered as a result.
Yet, he carefully omitted certain details. He did not mention that he had won against Changli, knowing her pride would make her lash out.
Nor did he reveal that Xuanmiao had nearly killed him—only that the old man had slightly injured him. Both Changli and Xuanmiao seemed content with the version he told, so they did not interrupt.
Xia then turned to the two. "Elder, little one—is this the truth?"
Both nodded. Changli hesitated as if wanting to say more, but Xuanmiao lowered his head, prompting her to do the same. "We were also in the wrong," the old man admitted.
Xia sighed before looking back at her son. "In trying to save a few coins, you ended up paying far more."
Then, in a softer tone, she suggested, "How about you two make amends?"
Kyorin merely regarded the idea without much thought, but Changli tensed. "I… I don't…" she muttered, unsure.
Xia frowned at her hesitation.
Kyorin, however, simply extended his hand. Changli averted her gaze, unable to shake off the weight of the past.
Xuanmiao watched with interest before posing a deliberate question. "Kid, do you understand the meaning of this? You were injured. Are you really willing to just forget and forgive?"
"Forgetting as of now might be impossible," Kyorin answered. "Forgiveness is for me to decide."
Changli's eyes narrowed at his words. 'Who does he think he is?' she thought bitterly. 'Master is giving him an opportunity, and he's rejecting it?'
Xuanmiao caught a hint of her inner turmoil and sighed deeply.
It was true—Kyorin's words may have seemed arrogant, but he had only spoken the truth.
In truth, it was Changli who clung to her pride, her arrogance unwavering even in the face of reality. If not for Xuanmiao's intervention, she would have been left in shambles.
Yet, even now, she refused to acknowledge it.
Xuanmiao watched the exchange with an amused glint in his eye, though inwardly, he reflected on his own approach toward his disciple. 'Perhaps I have been too indulgent with her,' he admitted. 'A little more discipline might do her some good.'
Meanwhile, Kyorin spoke again, his tone as flat as ever. "Hmm. Perhaps forgiveness may not even be reached."
Changli shot him a sharp look, but he continued unfazed. "After all, forgiveness requires agreement from both parties."
She blinked, momentarily thrown off. Was he… apologizing to her?
Xuanmiao's interest deepened, while Xia quietly clasped her hands together, waiting for what would come next.
Kyorin, tracing the still-visible wounds on his arm, proposed, "Since you are unwilling to forgive me for accidentally seeing you, and I am not so quick to forget the beating I received, how about this?" he raised his finger as he was about to give a suggestion.
"You tell me the hours you'll be using the hot spring, and I'll simply avoid it during that time." He began, suggesting they made a schedule for baths. "When you're not there, I will be."
For a moment, there was silence.
Then, DEVA, unseen to all but Kyorin, nearly choked on the currents overflowing inside her vessel. 'YOU ABSOLUTE BUFFOON!' she wanted to scream. If she had hands, she would have slammed her metallic face in frustration.
Changli, meanwhile, could only stare at him in sheer disbelief before her face turned crimson. Her hand trembled as she pointed at him.
"You… you—!" she sputtered, rage and embarrassment coiling into an incoherent mess. Then, finally, she burst out, "You really ARE a pervert!"
Kyorin merely tilted his head, palms facing upward in an almost dismissive gesture. "My offer doesn't seem that bad."
"WHO ASKS TO SHARE A BATH?! AND WITH AN OPPOSITE GENDER, NO LESS?!" Changli practically shrieked. "Do you even understand how disgraceful that is?!"
Kyorin, unfazed as ever, countered, "It's unclaimed land, isn't it? That would mean others have used it before you, no?"
Before Changli could form a response, a voice from outside suddenly called out, "That's true! It's an unclaimed hot spring, and many people have bathed in it!"
Kyorin turned to gesture towards the voice, as if proving his point.
But then the voice added, "However, because of that belief, most people AVOID it. Sharing a bath is an intimate act, and nobody wants to soak in someone else's filth."
Another voice chimed in, "That hot spring is way too large. Maintaining and cleaning it properly would cost a fortune, so no one has ever officially claimed it."
And finally, the last voice drove the final nail in the coffin.
"So, basically… only that girl has been bathing in that hot spring all this time."
Bamboozled.
Silence fell over the room.
Kyorin blinked, his gaze shifting to Xuanmiao, who merely shrugged and said, "I usually bathe in the waterfalls."
With that simple remark, and the explanation from the citizens outside, Changli was the unofficial owner of the hot spring. Which meant, in essence, Kyorin had been asking Changli to share her bathwater.
He stood stunned, unable to utter any words. Changli's face darkened several shades redder.
Xuanmiao sighed. Xia rubbed her temples.
DEVA, in the depths of Kyorin's consciousness, howled with laughter: "JaJaJaJaJaJa"
To be continued...
--
A/N: Alright, since many wanted Kyorin to have flaws, I've given him flaws based on his lack of social experience.
While I could have made him completely indifferent, that would just be another way of portraying his isolation. But since he is actively engaging, I can't simply use isolation as a tool to make him seem 'cool.'
Instead, I've decided to shape his thinking around this. Since his relationships were nonexistent, many of his responses come across as blunt—this itself is a flaw.
I also wanted to highlight another flaw: his expectation that society will ignore him. I hope readers are satisfied with these aspects of his character.