Camellia 23

It had been a short nap. Though he had only closed his eyes for a moment, Tang Yujae felt as refreshed as if he had slept for three days straight. He stirred and slowly woke up.

“You can sleep a little more, ahae.”

Seolyeong, still holding the boy in his arms with a hint of sleep in his eyes, suddenly asked, as if struck by curiosity,

“By the way, what’s your name?”

Come to think of it, he still didn’t know the boy’s name.

Tang Yujae felt a strange sensation realizing the bride was still sitting on the floor, hugging him.

He could feel the slow thumping of a strong chest. Masters who had reached a certain level in cultivation often had slow, steady heartbeats. Human organs were like innate Qi, things that wore down the more they were used. So to preserve longevity, one had to minimize internal strain. Naturally, the heartbeat slowed with such control.

“Hmm? I asked what your name is.”

Seolyeong gently rubbed the boy’s sleepy eyelids with his thumb as he pressed again. Under his touch, the boy’s eyes rolled softly.

Amused by the cute response, Seolyeong smiled. Tang Yujae slipped out of the warm embrace and said,

“…I want to eat mooncakes you made yourself.”

His danjeon, which had been blocked by his transformation into a child, was now completely clear. It was almost time to return to his original body. Yujae stared at Seolyeong.

“Make me mooncakes.”

Mooncakes were a type of pastry made by kneading flour and stuffing it with red bean paste or dried fruits, then shaping and baking it flat. They were traditionally made in large batches during the Mid-Autumn Festival to offer to the moon or share with neighbors, making them a seasonally fitting food.

Although the festival had passed, it hadn’t been long, mooncakes were probably still available in shops.

“Alright. I’ll go buy some right away.”

“I’m not interested in ones made by others.”

Seolyeong had just been dusting off his pants to get up, but he froze in place.

“Make them with your own hands.”

More than the brash demand itself, what bothered him was that the boy’s height seemed to have shrunk just a bit compared to earlier.

Had his limbs grown in the meantime? The boy, with a clearer complexion and glossy skin thanks to the Qi infusion, looked visibly healthier. But it had only been a small dose, too much inner energy could cause Qi deviation, so Seolyeong had been careful to keep it minimal.

If even that small amount caused such growth, it had to be one of two things. Either the boy was a martial prodigy born once in a millennium, or Seolyeong’s own perception was off, and he had been misjudging the boy’s physique all along.

The boy walked over to the window with brisk steps.

The exotic garden Seolyeong had admired earlier now stretched out before Yujae’s eyes too. Flowers of white, orange, and yellow swayed gently in the breeze.

The white ones had five round petals turned outward, releasing a subtle scent. The orange ones resembled hydrangeas, and the yellow ones bloomed in long shapes at the tips of tall branches, making them the most eye-catching. They all looked like ornamental trees imported from the southern regions.

Seolyeong had quietly walked up behind him.

“Namman gets frequent rain and intense sun, so many rare-colored flowers bloom there. These must be trees brought in from there.”

He had the same thought as Yujae. That unspoken understanding annoyed Tang Yujae, and he turned away from the window to face Seolyeong.

“I’ll tell you… once you make the mooncakes.”

“Tell me what?”

“My name.”

He could feel inner energy gathering naturally in his fingertips, sign that his form was about to change. The powerful tide of Qi churning inside him went completely unnoticed by Seolyeong. It was only natural. Even if Seolyeong was a top-class martial artist in the martial world, he still couldn’t compare to Tang Yujae.

The weaker one could never perceive the flow of the stronger’s Qi. Without sensing that, one couldn’t possibly predict where or how the next variation in an attack would come.

Seolyeong, catching flower petals blowing in on the breeze at incredible speed, said,

“You must keep your promise. Your master detests petty men who go back on their word.”

He gathered the petals in his palm and let them fall over Yujae’s head. They were soft and warm to the touch.

“Even if it takes a while, don’t be disappointed. They say that beautiful hands often lack dexterity. But I’ll do my best to bake those sweets.”

Even though he didn’t want to admit it, the bride’s words struck something in him.

“So that you’ll be able to keep asking me for things. I want to be the kind of adult you can ask without hesitation.”

After whispering that, Seolyeong left the bedroom.

Not long after, a strong wind swept the garden. Fallen petals covered the dirt like silk.

In a burst, the child’s body shifted, and massive inner energy erupted.

His thin, flat limbs lengthened and were wrapped in flexible muscle. Something resembling snake scales rose between his shoulder blades, then vanished.

Tang Yujae picked up the discarded leather robe. It was a memento from someone dear, one he never threw away. Lately, he’d been wearing it every time his body changed.

He went to the wardrobe. Inside were several spare sets of clothing. He chose a dark red martial robe and put it on, then turned to leave the inn, but paused and glanced back.

You’re right. Sometimes I scare myself too. I’m afraid I’ll no longer be able to even pretend to be human, and I’ll fall back into the sins carved into my nature.

The bride’s voice echoed in his mind. Somehow, it lingered.

It was ridiculous. A blood fiend want to act like a human?

He’d seen plenty of humans who wanted to become blood fiends. But the reverse? Never before.

There were those in the martial world who envied and coveted the blood fiends, beings who, with enough cultivation, could live as long as a turtle. Immortality was a dream even emperors desired.

Why were the long-lived immortals so revered? Was it because they were virtuous?

Not at all. It was only because they lived near-eternal lives. For such a petty reason, they were treated as beings beyond the mundane world.

Humans, who feared death, worshiped those free from it. And at the same time, they abhorred those who brought death. So instead of an immortal, Tang Yujae was treated as a bloodthirsty monster.

Before heading to Yeonhu, he found himself seeking out the bride once more.

Seolyeong was holed up in the inn’s kitchen, bickering with a young girl who seemed to be a serving maid. He hadn’t sensed the earlier eruption of Qi. Proof that his martial arts were far inferior to Tang Yujae’s.

Yujae watched from a tree outside the open kitchen window.

“Young master, you’ve got some talent with your hands. Why not let me take over?”

“I did promise to make them myself, so I’m afraid not. I’d love to rely on your skills, but…”

With flour on his cheek, Seolyeong kneaded a small bit of dough. The strange-looking lumps lay scattered across a long tray. Even if they were baked, glazed with honey and sugar, they wouldn’t look appetizing in the slightest. The girl sighed deeply.

“Haa… Since you already bought me off with silver, couldn’t you have hired me for the mooncakes too? Watching this is so frustrating I keep sighing. Hey! Relax your hands when shaping! Are you trying to kill someone?!”

Despite the scolding, Seolyeong didn’t let go of the dough. Determined, he kept making mooncakes, and once he finally started plating them, he looked over anxiously.

“…Do you think my disciple will like them?”

“You mean the stubborn, blunt disciple you came here with? Is he picky?”

“It feels like he might be.”

The mooncakes Seolyeong made were truly awful in appearance.

“Hmm…”

After examining them with narrowed eyes, the girl gave a sincere answer.

“I think he’ll like them. They’re rough and ugly… but they show effort.”

“…Really?”

“Yes. Really.”

Seolyeong smiled brightly. A faint blush appeared on his face, overlapping with the foreign flowers blooming in the garden.

Tang Yujae, who had been quietly watching, turned away with a blank expression, as if he’d never cared.

And yet, oddly enough… he couldn’t get the bride’s face out of his mind.

As he approached the entrance to Mount Yeonhu, where the imugi statue stood, his thoughts only grew more tangled.

As he reshaped the formation Seolyeong had broken with a single stroke of the Fire Dragon Sword into something even more complex with a flick of his hand, Tang Yujae reached a conclusion.

It was nothing but a fleeting thought.

Unwelcome, perhaps, but not boring. That was all the man had been. Nothing more than that.