Camellia 77

Seolyeong’s face twisted in an openly sour expression. Sahyeol Amje, now in the form of a child, had never looked more detestable.

As if punching a hole in his chest wasn’t enough, now the bastard husband was trying to coax tears out of him. Every breath felt like it dragged a wave of emptiness from his lungs. The corners of his sharp eyes flushed hot pink.

Still gripped by the hair, Seolyeong answered.

“…I’ve always been the most beautiful person in the world.”

Cry because it’d make him look like the most beautiful thing alive? What kind of nonsense was that?

“So I don’t see any reason to struggle for my husband’s refined sense of aesthetics.”

All he could do was let out a scoffing laugh. Cry or smile, whatever he did, he’d look perfect anyway. That was the gift of his face.

And besides, anything asked of him by the man who had made him suffer, he had no desire to grant, no matter how easy it was. Just as he moved to fling Yujae’s hand away, his fingers tightened. The wrist pressed to his palm… was so cold. So small.

If he didn’t know the truth, Seolyeong would’ve immediately pulled the blanket up, tucked that tiny body against his own, and whispered, ‘Your master will warm your frozen skin, Yujae. Sleep easy.’

But the child he’d wanted to guide to the right path had never existed to begin with.

“If you’re that curious about how I look when I cry, why not just slap me until the tears fall?”

His voice grew sharp. At that, Yujae slowly loosened his grip.

“Mm. I’m not in the mood for that.”

Just imagining a red mark on that pretty cheek made his earlier amusement fizzle out. What a foolish bride. Being seen as beautiful by his husband wouldn’t cost him a thing.

Yujae felt no guilt whatsoever about his deception.

“If I was going to make you cry by hitting you, I’d have done it already.”

“You’ve hit me plenty already.”

“Not enough to make you cry.”

He muttered and lay back down on the bed. With the bride’s attention finally off him, another thought came to mind.

“So… what exactly happened?”

He felt like he was close to figuring it out, but his chest still felt uncomfortably tight.

Seolyeong answered without hesitation.

“Something unknown awakened in your body. It had golden eyes rimmed in orange. Then, without warning, it stripped off your clothes and ran out of Yeonhwa Hall completely naked. After basking in some sunlight, it suddenly shrank. What exactly is going on?”

Thanks to that, Yujae finally had a thread to follow.

He reached up and touched under his right eye.

“Is the mole still there?”

His quiet voice made Seolyeong shake his head.

He had actually been wondering the same thing. If that mole had still been in place, he might’ve suspected the child’s identity sooner. A mark right under the center of the eye wasn’t exactly common.

Yu jae threw back the blanket and patted the spot beside him.

“Come lie down here.”

“…What?”

Seolyeong, who had been wearing the most indifferent and cold expression he could manage, broke character for a second.

Yujae continued with his usual composure.

“The room is too cold.”

“What…”

“I’m your husband. So you should warm me up.”

So, he just wanted to use him as a heater. Seolyeong looked down at the chilled body and answered dryly.

“…I’ll bring some hot tea instead.”

“I don’t need that cheap stuff. I need your skin.”

And with that one line, all of Seolyeong’s carefully feigned disinterest collapsed.

The Sahyeol Amje really was a snake through and through.

“If it’s not your warmth, nothing else works anymore, Ahyeong.”

Those eyes, narrow, with a stark white sclera and tiny black pupils. That tongue, always curling with poison.

The sect leader had mastered the art of manipulating others. As the pillar of the entire sect, commander of a hundred thousand followers, he knew exactly how to disarm someone loyal to righteousness. Even someone feeling betrayed.

“So come save me.”

And just like that, Seolyeong stepped onto the bed, as if entranced. The sect leader had achieved victory, without even a word of apology.

Yujae leaned his small face against the bride’s chest. Maybe because it was right over the heart, but he could clearly hear it pounding. A satisfied smile crept across his lips.

As the bride’s warmth melted the cold knot in his chest, Yujae suddenly felt like explaining. Something he’d never normally do.

“Have you ever heard the legend of the imugi?”

Seolyeong nodded faintly.

“It’s probably not what you think. The imugi isn’t as noble as the world makes it out to be.”

Yuhae pressed a hand to his own chest and closed his eyes.

“A spiritual beast said to ascend to the clouds after gathering enough Qi over three thousand years. The orb between its teeth, the yeouiju, contains the souls of countless martial artists. Sometimes, a rising expert would show up and break all limits. That was because they were contracted with the imugi. The deal was simple: immense power now, but once the contract ended, the imugi would take your soul and use it to ascend.”

Everything he said was recorded in the Saseogyeong. When Yujae had translated the Western chapter, he suspected the former Cheonma had also been one such contractor.

But the old sect leader hadn’t followed the usual method. He had tracked down the imugi’s lair in Mount Kunlun, waited until the creature left its yeouiju behind to bask in the sun, and barged in alone.

Then he ate half of it. Half of the energy it had spent 1,500 years gathering.

Later, the imugi recovered some of its power by gnawing on the Cheonma’s corpse. But in the process… it fell in love with the man who had tricked it.

That’s why it now wandered among humans, peering into faces, hoping to see someone who resembled him.

Yujae remembered every word. The imugi had rambled endlessly, so there was no detail he didn’t know.

His voice grew lazier.

“My soul, and the rest of my lifespan, already belong to the imugi. So don’t expect me to act human. I’ve my hands full just managing that temperamental beast.”

When Yujae cracked the Saseogyeong, he had immediately gone to Mount Kunlun, dug through the mountain like a rat, and swallowed the whole orb this time. He’d known half wouldn’t be enough to fix his corrupted body. It had been a gamble, a suicidal one.

And it paid off.

Now, not even a hundred top-tier warriors acting together could match him. It was only natural. He had reached a level just below ascension.

The imugi, having lost 3,000 years’ worth of cultivation this time, had raged and thrashed, only to secretly seem pleased. Thankful for being reminded of its dead lover.

The Saseogyeong had recorded the creature’s one-sided affection in detail. Yujae no longer doubted its sincerity. Or perhaps, more accurately, he chose not to dwell on it, because the outcome wouldn’t change.

Yujae warned,

“If you ever meet it, run. No matter how friendly it acts, it won’t hesitate to kill you. It’s only merciful to humans.”

“……”

“You’ll never be one. Even if you died and were reborn.”

With those final words, he let out a drowsy breath and fell asleep. That was all of the story, for now.

Time passed. A violent gust seemed ready to tear through the room. Seolyeong watched in silence as his husband returned to his original form.

Pale face. Snake scales creeping along his neck.

A mark below his eye shimmered gold tinged with red, mocking him.

Beneath those lashes, Seolyeong thought, ‘Are your eyes still black? Or are they gold now?’

He unconsciously reached out and touched Yujae’s cheek. The boy’s face lingered faintly beneath that grown body, and the sight pressed painfully against his throat.

He murmured to himself,

“…Are you still pretending to be human? Or have you simply become something else entirely?”

The words caught in his throat.

“I, who can’t be human even if I wanted to… can’t understand you at all, husband.”