The door creaked open.
A tall woman in soft white robes stepped inside, exuding quiet authority. Her long hair was tied neatly, her eyes sharp but now glimmering with concern. The moment she saw Yerin standing there—clothed in borrowed garments, her expression unreadable—her composure cracked.
"Yerin…" she breathed.
Without hesitation, she crossed the room and pulled the girl into a firm, almost desperate embrace.
"Where have you been?" Her voice cracked with emotion. "Are you alright? Were you hurt? I've been worried sick!"
Yerin tensed, caught off guard, then slowly nodded. "I'm fine, Master…"
But as the elder pulled back and instinctively placed two fingers against Yerin's wrist to check her pulse and internal state, something in her demeanor shifted.
Her brows furrowed. Her eyes narrowed. She paused for a heartbeat—then her expression hardened.
She looked up sharply, voice rising.
"…Your inside—it's been touched."
Yerin froze.
The elder stepped back, face tightening with visible restraint.
"Yerin!" she barked. "I let you go out into the world to temper your spirit, to gain insight and strength—not to lose yourself in the arms of some man!"
"Master—" Yerin's voice was small.
But the elder's voice overrode hers, sharp and cold.
"I trusted you to remain focused on your path. Do you even know who he is? Did he promise you anything? Or did you just—"
She stopped herself, jaw clenched. There was pain in her eyes now, not just anger.
"I raised you with discipline. I taught you to be strong. And now you become like this? Without telling me anything? You let someone take you, and I don't even know his name?"
Yerin lowered her head, silent.
The elder exhaled sharply, turning away for a moment, as if trying to contain her emotions. Then she spoke, voice quieter—but firmer.
"I'm not angry because you're no longer pure. I'm angry because you didn't tell me. Because I wasn't there to protect you. Because you let someone into your life who might not deserve you."
Yerin's chest tightened.
For all the sharpness in her master's tone, it wasn't hatred she saw—it was worry. Hurt. The kind only someone who truly cared would show.
"I'm sorry…" she whispered, her voice trembling. "I didn't mean to hide it from you. I just—I didn't know how to tell you."
The elder's gaze didn't soften, but she said nothing, letting Yerin continue.
Yerin took a breath, then began to explain—haltingly at first, then with growing clarity. She told her master everything. Slowly, steadily. No detail was spared, but her words were careful, respectful.
When she finished, silence fell between them.
The elder stood motionless, her expression unreadable. Then, her gaze shifted—sharp, cutting—as she turned to the young man nearby.
"…Is this him?" she asked, voice cold and precise. "This is the one?"
Jiho was about to speak, trying to introduce himself calmly. "Greetings, Elder, I'm Jiho—"
However, his words were cut short when the elder moved with lightning speed. Before Jiho could finish his sentence, a powerful palm strike landed squarely on his chest. The force of the quick step and deep strike sent Jiho's body hurtling to the far side of the room!
Yerin gasped in shock and screamed, "Master!" in panic as she watched Jiho be sent flying.
BAM! Jiho's body crashed into the wall, causing it to crack around the impact. Dust flew everywhere as Jiho's body went limp, collapsing to the floor in a sitting position, blood trickling from the corner of his lips. His eyes blurred, his body heavy with pain, but he struggled to maintain his composure.
The elder stood tall, eyes blazing with fury.
"Do you even understand what you've done?" Her voice was hoarse with restrained emotion—rage tinged with a deep, aching sorrow. "You've ruined everything I've built for her!"
Yerin rushed to Jiho's side, crouching down beside him, but hesitated—torn between fear and concern. "Master, please! He wasn't like that. He—"
"Silence!" the elder snapped, her voice laden with pressure. "Yerin, you don't understand. Even if the circumstances were beyond your control, it's still his fault. From your story—he carries some kind of poison in his body! How could you trust someone with such a dangerous and unknown background?"
Yerin trembled.
She was trapped between the two people she held dearest—her master, who had raised and protected her, and Jiho, who had helped her and gave her warmth. Her heart screamed for peace, but her voice faltered. She looked down, lips parting—but no words came.
Jiho's head, lowered from the pain and impact, slowly lifted.
His gaze locked onto the elder—no longer passive, but filled with suppressed anger. His jaw clenched, his eyes sharp and defiant despite the blood on his lips.
The elder noticed it instantly. Her expression didn't change, but her voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"Oh? Are you angry at me?" she said, her tone calm but biting. "Because I struck you?"
She stepped forward slowly, her presence oppressive.
"Yerin is like a daughter to me. Do you think you have the right to be angry? Tell me—if you were in my position, what would you have done?"
Her words hit deeper than any physical blow. Jiho's breath caught.
The fire in his chest—the rising resentment—vanished as if doused with cold water. His expression faltered, and for the first time, doubt crept into his heart.
She was right.
Whether he had meant it or not, whether it was in the heat of fear or comfort… he had taken something sacred from a girl he had barely known for more than a handful of weeks.
He couldn't answer.
He had no right to.
The silence in the room was deafening. Jiho remained on the floor, breath shallow, his limbs trembling from the impact and the shame that followed. His fists clenched weakly on his lap, but he said nothing.
Then, the elder turned to Yerin.
"Come."
It wasn't a request.
Yerin hesitated—just for a heartbeat—but then rose to her feet, biting her trembling lip.
She crouched slightly—just enough to place something into his palm. A small, smooth pill, warm from her touch. A healing elixir, no doubt. Her fingers lingered for a second longer than they should have.
When Jiho looked up, their eyes met.
There was sorrow in hers. Regret. But no apology.
Then she stood and walked to her master's side.
The elder didn't look back. Her expression was already cold once more, a wall of steel forged by years of control and purpose.
As she stepped toward the door, she paused at the threshold.
"You couldn't even block a single strike," she said without turning around, her voice quiet but razor-sharp. "And that was merely a flicker of my power."
She glanced back over her shoulder—just a sliver of her sharp gaze piercing the air between them.
"If you think I wronged you… if you're strong enough, come find me one day. Take your revenge. I will not run."
Her robe fluttered slightly as she stepped beyond the doorframe.
"I am Bai Xueyan of the Emei Sect."
With that, she vanished into the hallway, Yerin following close behind. The girl didn't look back.
But as she passed beyond the door…a single tear slipped down her cheek.
Jiho sat in silence, the pill still warm in his hand, his chest aching—not just from the blow, but from something deeper.
Something that refused to be left as it was.