Camellia 107

With their fingers intertwined, Tang Yujae held his gaze steady. The moonlight cast a soft glow over his face, shadows deepening the sharp lines of his features.

When Seolyeong didn’t answer, he spoke again.

“That thing’s always harsher to beings that aren’t human. If you’re worried it might hurt you, it’s better to keep your distance when the time comes.”

The leader’s hand felt like ice. How had his body already weakened after receiving yang energy?

Seolyeong unconsciously brushed his cold cheek. His straight fingers moved slowly, carrying warmth.

At the gentle movements of his fingers, Tang Yujae slowly closed his eyes. The gentle touch made him sleepy.

“What can I do if you are so soft-hearted?”

Yujae muttered, smiling faintly. His husband’s way of never ignoring anyone’s suffering struck him as foolish, and yet, somehow, endearing. He found himself too curious about the righteous heart beating inside that blood fiend’s chest.

How warm could you become for someone like me?

“The one inside you… warned me it’d appear again at dawn after the full moon.”

Seolyeong spoke at last. His gaze was calm, but heavy with concern.

“Are you planning to take off your clothes and wander around in the sun again?”

“Who knows. I might.”

“……”

“If the thing wants to, it will. If it doesn’t, then it won’t.”

The imugi was offended at Tang Yuhae repeated use of “thing”. The black dot under his eye twitched like something alive. Seolyeong flinched and yanked his hand back.

“Ah…”

Yuhae let out a short groan, covering his eyes with a palm and lowering his head. A cold voice cut through the air.

–No matter how fond I am of you, even mercy has its limits. Watch your tongue, insolent human.

The creature’s nerves seemed on edge, likely because the time of awakening was near.

When black tears welled beneath Yujae’s lashes, Seolyeong dropped to one knee, alarmed. He looked up at his husband’s face and cleared his throat.

“This is because of the imugi, isn’t it? Your health… he’s draining your body, isn’t he?”

The long eyes wet with black tears trembled faintly. Yujae wiped them away, then slowly opened one eye.

It had changed, burning with a golden-red glow like the setting sun.

“…You’re wrong, idiot. I’m the one keeping it alive.”

His lips curved gently as he spoke. The divine weight in his voice made the air feel heavy. A sudden wind burst through the room.

“You who are under the protection of Wonsi Cheonjon.”

Seolyeong’s hair whipped into the air. He barely had time to react before a hand grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him close.

Their eyes met, just a breath apart.

The imugi spoke like as if foretelling the future.

“This human is mine. Covet him all you want, but fate won’t side with you. Remember that.”

The same burning flame that flickered in Tang Yujae’s eyes now burned in the imugi’s. An unseen heat licked across Seolyeong’s skin. It felt like he might burn alive.

The imugi gave one more warning with a faint smile.

“If you want peace in your miserable fate, choose someone within your reach.”

And with that, Yujae’s body collapsed toward Seolyeong. The glow faded from his eye, his focus gone.

His shoulders went limp like a doll, slumping into Seolyeong’s arms.

“Husband…?”

Was he asleep?

Seolyeong adjusted his grip, checked his face, and blinked in disbelief. Yujae had passed out completely. It was the backlash of the ilugi fully taking over, but Seolyeong didn’t know that.

“…What is this.”

He carried his unconscious husband to the bed and sighed. His mood was in shambles.

‘This human is mine.’

That line echoed in his head like a shout in a bamboo forest. He hadn’t even wanted this man to begin with, but hearing that still bothered him.

Seolyeong sat beside Yujae and pressed a hand to his cool forehead.

“Does it look to the imugi like this body is lusting after the sect leader.”

I swear to the heavens, I’m not the one who wants him. He’s the one who wants me.

“…Husband. If you can hear me, I hope you’ll clear up this misunderstanding. I’m very confident I’ll never fall in love with the sect leader. Even if someone puts a knife to my throat, I wouldn’t. So you don’t have to worry.”

Within Yujae’s subconscious, the imugi thought to itself: strong denial often signals strong desire.

From its view, the blood fiend groom falling in love with the vessel was just a matter of time. Could someone starving for warmth really resist the tenderness offered by the world’s strongest man?

So Seolyeong stayed beside him until dawn. When Yujae shivered from the cold, he climbed under the blankets and lent him his warmth. He didn’t know why he was doing it. Maybe it was the ghost of the young disciple in his memory. He told himself that was reason enough.

By afternoon, the plan to return to the Namgung guest quarters had failed completely.

Honestly, Seolyeong hadn’t even tried to wake him. He was ready to forfeit the Geokroe-do and go back to Yeonhu. That would’ve been the best choice anyway.

“……”

Eventually, Tang Yujae stirred. Through his blurred vision, he saw Seolyeong’s face.

The blood fiend had been braiding his hair neatly into two strands, but stopped mid-motion like he’d frozen.

“…How long did I sleep?”

Worried he might glance at the mirror, Seolyeong quickly answered.

“About half a day. The preliminaries are tomorrow, so you can rest more if you want.”

“My forehead’s throbbing too much to sleep.”

Well, no wonder. He’d been flicked and pinched all over while he slept. Seolyeong had even squashed his lips in annoyance. No part of his face could be comfortable.

Sheepish, he changed the subject.

“By now the matchups for the preliminaries must be out. Aren’t you curious?”

“Your opponent’s a first-rate rogue.”

“…And how would you know that?”

Tang Yujae, now sitting up, tugged on Seolyeong’s hand as if telling him to unbraid his hair.

“If you open your senses wide enough, you can hear all the rumors in the city.”

Seolyeong already had, but he just pouted in silence.

“…Then who are you up against?”

He asked sulkily. Yujae flicked his lip and answered.

“Namgung Wook.”

“…Namgung?”

It made sense for Namgung clan warriors to enter a tournament they were hosting, but this wasn’t expected. Why would someone from that clan fight a rogue?

“Why’s a Namgung competing against someone without a background?”

Tang Yujae spoke calmly.

“It’s probably the only way to give that kid a win. And since I held back during the evaluation, my rank must’ve looked the lowest among the top group.”

“…You held back?”

“Yeah.”

“Why.”

“So many questions, Ahyeong. I had my reasons.”

So Namgung clan had deliberately set up a weak-looking opponent to give Namgung Wook a favorable match.

Seolyeong scratched his head, scowling. To rig the first round already, was the Namgung clan he admired just a fantasy all along?

“…Now I want to know what kind of person this Namgung Wook is.”

Wouldn’t a real Namgung warrior want to fight someone strong?

As he unbraided his hair, Yujae added:

“He’s Namgung Yuhyeon’s youngest son. You probably never crossed paths. No ties to you or the Murong clan.”

Strangely, the moment he heard that name, Seolyeong felt a wave of déjà vu.

Where had he heard it before?

Then it hit him.

‘The Murim Leader’s biggest failure as a parent. Namgung Woonpyeong’s heir, Namgung Yuhyeon, the man who plays with boys and then buries them alive in Mount Hwang when he gets bored. You knew that, right?’

As if stretching off a nap, Yujae asked lazily,

“Do you think that kid knows his father’s little secret too?”