Camellia 106

“There’s no need to treat me with luxury. I would appreciate it if you would refrain from humiliating me in public.”

Seolyeong answered in a crisp, well-mannered tone like a scholar. If he’d been an ordinary sect member, he would’ve been dragged off to Akbindang and tortured on the spot, but Tang Yujae let it slide with surprising generosity.

The bride straightened his back a little more and, emboldened by his husband’s mercy, continued firmly.

“If you truly want the Gyeokroe-do, then enter the tournament and win it.”

“Hm.”

“This is no time for humming. You ought to be ashamed.”

In Seolyeong’s eyes, saying you’d steal a famous sword that could be won simply by defeating the competitors was just proof of cowardice. Even while dragging the demonic sect’s sect leader into an orthodox martial arts festival, he didn’t hesitate to add,

“If you’re avoiding the tournament out of fear of the martial world’s elites… then please, give me the order instead. I’ll win. I’ll bring you the Gyeokroe-do myself.”

The bold offer brought a smile to Yujae’s lips right on cue. For someone who’d grown weary of a dull life, his bride’s defiance was like opium, tasting it once had made it addicting. By now, he couldn’t go without.

“Your confidence is sky-high.”

Even with the sarcasm, Seolyeong didn’t falter.

“I can say confidently, it’s not arrogance. If I’d been allowed to leave the clan back then, I’d already have been called the Dragon of This Generation and swept the Yongbong Gathering.”

He’d only stayed away from the martial world because he hadn’t been allowed to take a single step outside. This time, he lowered his voice and asked more quietly,

“Do you truly want the Gyeokroe-do, husband?”

His illusion-darkened eyes stared straight into Yujae’s. Two handsome men, facing each other with heat like sunlight, passersby tried not to stare but couldn’t help glancing their way.

“Then use me as your pawn. I won’t disappoint you.”

TayYujae answered immediately, as if he had been waiting for it.

“Fine. But if you don’t win, you can do a naked sword dance me. Is that alright?”

He pulled Seolyeong in by the waist and pushed the bamboo hat lower over his head to keep curious eyes off his face. Seolyeong scowled and turned his face aside as the other man leaned in.

“Is that all you ever think about? If you really mean to study martial arts, you ought to practice restraint and keep your mind clean…”

“What’s the point of studying.”

Seolyeong glared at him for a long time, as he was prone to cutting off other people’s conversations whenever he was bored.

“If I study any more, your whole precious martial world’s going to get wiped out, Ahyeong. You know that already.”

Seolyeong’s expression fell after hearing that terrible joke. A pale finger brushed the corner of his eye. His long lashes trembled like butterfly wings.

The bite of early winter wind had faded. Gentle sunlight now warmed the market street. Merchants paused and looked up at the sky with puzzled faces. It was too mild for the season.

The highest-level master that could shift nature itself.

Seolyeong knew exactly why the air had taken on the scent of spring. That knowledge only made the feeling in his chest heavier. Sahyeol Amje asked casually,

“You’ll dance for me, right?”

For some reason, his brand started to throb. But what if that sting wasn’t from the brand? What if the discomfort rising in his chest wasn’t pain, but unease?

If that was true, how was he supposed to deal with this man?

Hoping his husband’s affections wouldn’t deepen further, Seolyeong agreed to the damned naked sword dance.

To be honest, the idea of being the one and only person in the heart of the world’s strongest man… filled him with a twisted satisfaction. The more devoted Sahyeol Amje became, the more terrified Seolyeong felt.

He was afraid he’d start to see that inhuman demon as a person. Afraid he’d grow curious about the life behind those eyes.

So he turned his head away, refusing to meet that kind gaze. He wouldn’t let himself get wrapped up in the worthless pride of being someone important to the greatest martial artist alive.

***

…Damn it. Pride was the least of his problems.

“You can’t just do this!”

That crazy bastard of a sect leader. That shameless, conscience-free son of a bitch. Seolyeong cursed him every way he knew while stomping in frustration.

And with good reason. Tang Yujae had just submitted his entry form for the Namgung clan’s martial tournament.

He’d already felt something was off the moment they arrived at the marble-paved compound. And sure enough, it happened.

At Changheong Pavilion, where the clan greeted outside participants, Sahyeol Amje blended in well.

Seolyeong had chased after him, fists pounding his chest, as the artist finished sketching his portrait. Judging by how plain the finished sketch looked, Yujae must’ve been wrapped in an illusion again. One that let only Seolyeong see his true face.

Seolyeong glared at him.

“My lord, you’re entering the tournament? How on earth do you expect me to win?”

Sahyeol Amje replied calmly,

“You were the one who pushed me to fight fair.”

“That was before I officially entered! If I’d known this would happen, would I have promised to win and do a naked sword dance like a madman?”

That petty bastard had waited until after Seolyeong finished reversing his transformation and submitting his form. Only then did he leisurely submit his own. When he stamped his seal and flashed a grin, Seolyeong’s fists had trembled with fury. He wanted to punch that smug face so badly it made his chest ache.

“Were you a goose in your past life, Ahyeong? You squawk just like one.”

Tang Yujae, who was smirking, suddenly sighed, “Ah—” and asked,

“Are you taking it out on me because you didn’t get a good evaluation?”

All rogues had to undergo an internal energy assessment to qualify. They couldn’t let just anyone join and bring down the tournament’s standards. Only those rated upper could even compete in the preliminaries.

Seolyeong gave him a flat stare.

“Do I look that petty?”

Both of them had passed with upper ratings in just seconds and walked out of the hall.

Tang Yujae shrugged and answered.

“You never know.”

“You really think I’m just some pebble by the road? I’ll have you know I’m a gleaming jade. Even now, I’m basking in stares full of awe.”

“It must feel good, getting praised by a bunch of nobodies.”

Their constant bickering only stopped once they reached the guesthouse for participants. For the first time, they agreed on something: they’d sleep outside and sneak back in. Considering the Namgung clan’s wealth, the accommodations were disappointingly stingy. Sleeping shoulder-to-shoulder with dozens of hostile martial artists would lead to more fights than rest.

Seolyeong, scowling, followed Yujae to an external inn. He’d half-expected him to book a single-room just to be nasty, but to his surprise, the man reserved one with separate rooms.

‘What is going on with this pervert?’

Seolyeong watched his husband’s back in confusion as he walked ahead. He’d been worried Yujae might pounce again for more yang energy, but the man showed zero interest in sex.

“Ugh, is this really the kind of thing I should be worrying about right now?”

Grumbling to himself, Seolyeong collapsed onto the bed. The moon outside the window looked beautiful. He lay there admiring the view.

Suddenly dread crept into his mind.

“Wait a second. The moon shape is…”

It was swollen and round, just shy of full. His heart began to race.

The imugi. The moment that thing sealed inside Yujae had said it would reawaken… was drawing near.

Seolyeong shot up and ran straight into Yujae’s room. The sect leader was sitting on the windowsill, gazing at the sky, and turned at the sound.

“H-husband…!”

Rushing over, Seolyeong grabbed his chin with both hands and checked his eyes.

“You’re still you, right?”

They were still pitch black. The imugi hadn’t surfaced yet. But he couldn’t be sure.

“You’re not the imugi, right? You’re really my husband, right? Yes?”

The rapid-fire questions made Tang Yujae furrow his brow and ask,

“What are you afraid of?”

His cold hand slowly overlapped Seolyeong’s warm one.

“Did that thing hurt you while I was gone?”