Camellia 42
by LiliumSi Pungjae, who had just praised the Cheonsin, turned a cold gaze on Choseon. Sensing danger, Hwang Choseon quickly hid behind Seolyeong, then, as if propelled by recoil, darted out again.
Come to think of it, Seolyeong was no longer the Baekseol he once knew. The elegant swordsman who used to soar through the air with a flurry of white sword Qi had vanished along with his shattered danjeon.
Now, without his inner Qi, Seolyeong was no more than a sturdy-bodied mosquito brat. Choseon hated to think of him in such crude terms, but perhaps because the situation was dire, no other phrase came to mind.
Steeling himself, Choseon stood in front of the handsome mosquito brat and said,
“There seems to be a misunderstanding, honored warrior. Ack!”
Calling a demonic cultivator an ‘honored warrior’! Only righteous sects pursued chivalry. The demonic sect not only mocked such ideals, they sought to eradicate anyone who followed them.
‘Is this bastard Choseon actually looking to die young?’
Because Seolyeong kicked the back of his knee from behind, Choseon twisted his ankle.
He spun around to glare at Seolyeong.
“You kick me when I’m trying to save your life? I almost fell and smashed my nose!”
At that moment, an ominous sword energy swept through. Choseon flinched at the chill brushing his cheek and swallowed dryly. Seolyeong annoyed, grabbed his arm and pulled him back. Si Pungjae’s declaration that he would kill the Sacheon Flower was, unfortunately, not an empty threat.
The fanatically loyal Si Pungjae spoke.
“Hand over the outsider. I cannot allow harm to come to the Sect Leader.”
Seolyeong sighed.
“Haa… Pungjae, you’ve got a shorter fuse than I thought.”
“The Sect Leader dislikes delays in executing orders.”
From the murderous tone, it was clear. Si Pungjae believed there was something illicit between him and Choseon. If the Sect Leader had issued the order, it meant his so-called husband likely thought the same.
As if losing his Qi wasn’t enough, just as he’d started regaining his will, the people around him refused to help. Normally, someone at Si Pungjae’s level couldn’t lay a finger on him. But now, even a single jab could cost him his life.
Seolyeong spoke in a stiff tone.
“Look carefully.”
Squatting next to Choseon like a thug, he yanked up the heavy skirt.
“This one’s a man. And I like women. …Well, aside from my husband. The Amje will be my first and last man. So don’t ever doubt my affection for him.”
Because he had grabbed both the outer and inner skirt, the white undergarments were fully exposed.
Seolyeong’s pale thighs filled Si Pungjae’s view, but even more shocking was the bulge between them.
Could a woman’s lower body ever look like that?
Though Si Pungjae, who loved men, had never seen a woman’s nether regions before, even he knew it couldn’t possibly bulge out like someone had stuffed a child’s fist in there. So this was the famed “Great One” of the Sacheon courtesans. A monster wrapped in silk skirts…
Caught off guard by the sight of another man’s genitals in broad daylight, Si Pungjae hastily sheathed his jagged-toothed blade. Clack! The sword slid into its scabbard.
Only then did Choseon scream.
“Aaaaah! What the hell are you doing!”
Mortified, he beat the mosquito brat with all his strength for exposing his hidden part without permission. Even if their audience was only Seolyeong, himself, and the sect member, the humiliation didn’t fade.
“Ahh, my poor fate. My chances at marriage are over, all over…”
No matter how shameless he was, and yes, in a courtesan house, shame was a luxury for failures, even he couldn’t stay unfazed after flashing his genitals in the middle of the backyard in broad daylight. Groaning in agony, Choseon slumped down when Si Pungjae announced Seolyeong had to be taken to dinner.
There were many mountains in Sipman Daesan.
Seolyeong arrived at the lakeside of Mount Dubeok, carried by Si Pungjae.
A two-story pavilion made of wood that emphasized the natural grain. Roughly four bays wide, three bays deep. The roof was lacquered black, and translucent crimson curtains hung along the eaves.
Why would one hang curtains around a pavilion meant to be open to the elements? Seolyeong guessed it was because the man known as the Cheonsin was just that reclusive and conservative.
Si Pungjae set Seolyeong down and warned him.
“There’s something I must ask of you. As soon as we enter, show proper etiquette…”
“There’s no need for you to drag me around next time. My cute little mutt is twice as fast as you.”
Seolyeong nearly died of boredom enduring Si Pungjae’s sluggish gyeonggong. Objectively, it wasn’t that slow, but compared to his own former speed, it was a letdown.
Si Pungjae ignored the jab and continued.
“As soon as you enter, kneel and bow. Only after the Supreme One grants you permission may you raise your head.”
“Sure.”
Unlike in Yeonhu, the landscape here was bursting with vivid color, and Seolyeong only half-heartedly replied while taking in the view. The demonic sect was always locked in winter, but outside, the leaves were changing with the seasons.
It was autumn, the season of crimson leaves. Especially now, during Sanggyeong1, when the leaves peaked and chrysanthemums bloomed, the scenery was unmatched.
Taking in the scent of fallen leaves, Seolyeong climbed the steps leading to the pavilion. The soft curtains brushed against his hand. Sweeping them aside, he entered, and found a handsome man composing something.
The very man who had rendered his danjeon unusable looked back at him with a calm expression.
Seolyeong immediately felt an amgyeong2 pressing all the way into his bones. The oppressive force pressing down with inner Qi was as heavy as an elephant’s leg. He barely managed to speak.
“…If I’m to kneel and bow, I need to be able to move, Husband.”
“Just come sit.”
“To do that, I need freedom of movement. Could you release the amgyeong just for a moment?”
“Crawl, then.”
“……”
“What, can’t even crawl? So much for the mighty blood fiend. I heard you came straight to Gwanju Hall after waking up. I thought you’d have more willpower than this.”
Was he doing this to humiliate him?
Seolyeong, trembling from enduring the amgyeong, folded his shaking legs and crawled forward as ordered. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead. Pushing through the deliberate pressure of a master like Cheonsin was no easy task.
Spotting the table leg, Seolyeong slowly pushed himself up. He wondered what the point of this was. Neither the one giving the order nor he himself seemed pleased with this display.
Cheonsin nodded slightly, and the chair slid out smoothly.
Seolyeong felt a pang of envy as he watched him manipulate heogong seobmul so freely. If only his danjeon had remained intact, he would have uprooted a maple tree and smashed that bastard’s head the moment he told him to crawl.
On the large dining table were only two bottles. One green jade bottle with its bamboo stopper already removed, clearly for Cheonsin. The red jade bottle, still sealed, was for Seolyeong.
The gracefully curved bottle floated toward him.
“Drink. Looks like your body could use some restoring.”
“…Restoring?”
“You’re injured. You need to recover your strength.”
Seolyeong asked, wary.
“Could it be… this isn’t liquor, but blood?”
“You’ll find out once you open it.”
“…Human blood, isn’t it?”
His face drained of color as he stammered out the words.
“If it’s animal blood, and you’ve graciously given it, this lowly wife will gladly drink it. But if it’s human… I must refuse. Please forgive my rudeness.”
At his firm refusal, Cheonsin smiled coldly.
Seolyeong clenched his fists under the table.
Human blood was addictive. It was clearly stated in the Demon Book that Murong Bok had procured. Blood fiends who began drinking human blood had crossed the Yellow River with no way back. From then on, humans would be nothing more than prey to them.
What scared Seolyeong was the thought of becoming a monster without realizing it. He already was one by nature, but he didn’t want to become a true demon, one who took pleasure in biting the throats of those he cherished.
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