Camellia 84

But it was only natural for Seolyeong to question his husband’s intentions. The Sect Leader, sitting so close and speaking with uncharacteristically gentleness, looked far too suspicious.

‘Die? Who’s dying? Don’t tell me you? Well, sure, eventually even you’ll die… even those old turtles who claim to have bought immortality can’t dodge death forever. He’s worried I’ll ask him to kill himself, huh.’

A strange tension pressed down on him, and as his eyes dropped, a cold hand lifted his chin.

“Don’t bow your head. You’re most bearable when you’re being arrogant.”

Nabilsasoo had once warned him to never meet Sahyeol Amje’s eyes. Don’t speak. Don’t show strong emotion. That was the unspoken rule.

But here he was, stringing together the most absurd lines. Seolyeong was feeling unsettled, he opened his mouth slowly.

“I sense killing intent on the back of my head.”

He only said it to deflect. He was growing uncomfortable being held like this.

If the Sect Leader really meant to grant him a wish, there was no better chance. But unfortunately, this was a gathering of demonic martial artists. A grand celebration among lunatics who worshipped their leader like a god.

Seolyeong knew exactly how jealous those followers would be, seeing him clinging to the Sect Leader and whispering to him.

But Yujae didn’t seem to care in the slightest. When he noticed his bride glancing nervously at the pavilion lords, he asked calmly,

“Do you want me to get rid of it?”

The words didn’t register at first. Seolyeong’s head was pounding from all the chaos, he blinked and asked,

“What do you mean ‘get rid of it’?”

Yujae jerked his chin toward the people behind them.

“Them.”

Seolyeong instinctively turned, and nearly flinched. Several of the Eight Lords were glaring at him like he’d slaughtered their clans. Most of them were sweating, trembling as if enduring unbearable pain. More accurately, as if they were being crushed by someone’s overpowering Qi.

Seolyeong cautiously grabbed Yujae’s arm.

“Dear husband… I may be overstepping, but I believe internal purges should be carried out solely at your discretion, without involving me.”

To put it simply ‘Don’t drag me into your mess.’

If Seolyeong had been the kind of person who only cared about results, he might’ve seized the opportunity and begged Yujae to decapitate them. But unfortunately, he was a martial artist of the righteous path. No matter how tempting the offer, he had no interest in ordering someone else to kill for him.

If someone needed to die, he’d do it himself. So Seolyeong urged Sahyeol Amje without fear.

“Most of the audience is gone. The duel is over, isn’t it? Then would you kindly unfreeze my foster father? It pains me too much to see him like that.”

“Ah…” Yujae looked up at the ceiling. The Murong clan head was slumped there, unconscious with whites of his eyes showing, his mouth still frozen shut from earlier.

Turning his gaze back to Seolyeong, Yujae asked with a smirk,

“Is that your wish?”

“…What?”

Seolyeong frowned, unsure what he meant. Then, realizing what was being implied, his face twisted.

“You’re treating that as this bride’s wish? I’m asking you to take pity on an old man who’s passed out with his skull embedded in the ceiling! Just let him touch the ground again, that’s all I’m asking!”

“Mhm.”

“…Huh.”

The shameless affirmation left Seolyeong feeling like he’d been smacked in the head. A wish was supposed to be something you couldn’t ask for lightly. Something grand, impossible, something you saved for once in a lifetime. But the Sect Leader was undoubtedly a small minded person. His heart was the size of a pinhole.

As Seolyeong’s expression darkened, Yujae burst into laughter again.

His bride didn’t bother hiding his feelings, either because he lacked the skill or because he had no intention to hide them. Every emotion danced freely across his expressive face, and Yujae found it endlessly amusing.

He hadn’t laughed this much in years. When Seolyeong finally asked what he was laughing at.

“…You have a funny face?”

Yujae answered easily.

Seolyeong, offended by the criticism, shot back immediately.

“Where exactly? If you meant to say ‘pretty,’ you chose the wrong word.”

“There are many faces as pretty as yours in the world.”

“Then bring one here and prove it!”

As they bickered, each thought of something else.

‘…How do I get Elder Murong home safely?’

Seolyeong was already worried about the future of the Murong clan.

‘You’re busy worrying about other people again.’

Yujae saw right through him. Could this be what they called a meeting of minds?

Yujae slowly ran his fingers along Seolyeong’s nape, as if he wanted to savor the character he had carved there.

***

Their back-and-forth didn’t end until they reached the bedchamber. Thanks to that, Seolyeong earned the chance to meet with the Murong clan head.

In return he had to spend the night in Yujae’s arms. Strangely, Seolyeong couldn’t look away from his husband’s sleeping face. It reminded him of the boy who had once been his disciple.

Even as morning came and Yeoso led the way, his thoughts remained tangled. How did that scrawny kid turn into such the vicious sect leader?

“I’ll wait at the entrance… Gyo-mo.”

Yeoso, clenched his fist as he added the title with reluctance. Now that the Sect Leader had publicly acknowledged the Mad Bride, Yeoso had no choice but to pledge loyalty as well.

Yeoso couldn’t believe that the incomprehensible became the second most powerful figure in the sect. Only after Yeoso finally vanished into the shadows did Seolyeong blink and return to himself.

What’s wrong with me, wondering about that bastard’s past, even if you ask some random passerby they’ll all say, ‘That bastard is beyond leniency.’

“…Are you out of your mind. There are better things you should be wondering about.”

Seolyeong chided himself, he sighed and stepped forward.

Inside Akbindang, massive red-painted pillars greeted him. In gold letters above them, the demon sect’s favorite phrase: “Obey Heaven and live, defy Heaven and perish.” A single line capable of ruining an otherwise good mood.

After passing five long corridors, he finally stepped into the main hall.

And there, he saw a familiar back.

“…Elder.”

Once, that back had seemed as unshakable as a mountain.

Now the armless warrior was kneeling below a flight of twenty-eight stairs.

Sahyeol Amje reclined lazily in a seat at the top, casting a cold gaze down at him.

“Your bride is here, Sect Leader. Did you have a peaceful night?”

Seolyeong greeted him with a cheeky smile and hurried to stand beside the Murong clan head. One glance told him the old man’s condition was a mess.

“I’m ever so moved you’ve allowed me to reunite with my father. Since this is a bond forged through martial fate, stronger than blood, could you grant us some time alone together?”

Yujae stared blankly at Seolyeong’s glib tongue, then asked flatly,

“…Well, it doesn’t look like the man you’re trying to protect thinks of you as a son.”

It was obvious to anyone with eyes. The Murong clan head was glaring at both of them, his face twisted with murderous rage.

“I wonder if he even considers you a person.”

Seolyeong answered the blunt jab without hesitation.

“…What matters is that I respect him like a father. If given the chance to speak with him alone, I believe his anger will ease and he might begin to see me as human.”

Utter nonsense.

Seolyeong had known since childhood that the Murong clan head would never accept him as a person. The man didn’t just dislike him, he loathed him.

Every time he saw Seolyeong’s face, it reminded him of his dead son. That was reality, and Seolyeong couldn’t blame him for it.

If it weren’t for Seolyeong, Murong Jeongui wouldn’t have died in the first place.

Sahyeol Amje, as if peering into his bride’s true feelings, narrowed his eyes and muttered,

“…What shallow, worthless respect. If a martial artist’s reverence is that light and hollow, what use is it to anyone?”