Camellia 121

The blinding light vanished. Beneath the scattering fragments of that radiance, Seolyeong saw Sahyeol Amje’s sword shatter into pieces. It wasn’t that the blade had collapsed under the weight of its own sword energy. He was breaking it on purpose.

Thump–He retracted his blade and landed lightly on the ground. Seolyeong slowly raised his eyes.

Sahyeol Amje tossed aside the shattered sword and respectfully performed a martial salute.

“I’ve learned much from your technique.”

His voice was playful.

Overwhelmed by the spectacular display, the referee raised the flag and declared Seolyeong the victor. Deafening cheers burst through the arena. The flood of applause pouring toward him felt awkward and overwhelming.

Sahyeol Amje still had not lowered his salute, his head bowed with exaggerated courtesy.

“You really are…”

Seolyeong choked up and couldn’t finish his sentence. How many days in his life had left him this shaken? While the man who had handed him victory walked off the stage, Seolyeong silently gripped the hilt of his sword.

Seonwol-do, which had received Sahyeol Amje’s full force, began to emit a low pulse. Even the blade itself seemed bewildered. Sahyeol Amje had clearly overwhelmed them, without room for argument.

The overwhelming pressure of his Qi had blanketed Seolyeong from head to toe, making defeat inescapable. So then why?

It was only natural that a victory in the finals drew far more fanfare than one in the preliminaries. As soon as Seolyeong stepped down from the arena, martial artists from all corners of the land rushed toward him with words of admiration.

Even in the midst of all the noise, Seolyeong listened most closely to the sound transmission from Sahyeol Amje.

–You wanted to mingle with the martial world, didn’t you, Ahyeong? Enjoy it while you can.

A man who could bleed someone dry with kindness as sharp as a blade. Seolyeong couldn’t bring himself to call out to him. All he could do was be swept up in conversation with the countless martial artists who had gathered in Hapbi.

And it was truly an exhilarating exchange. A conversation filled with mutual respect, an attempt to understand each other’s beliefs and techniques.

Surrounded by voices that did not treat him like a monster, Seolyeong recalled Sahyeol Amje’s face. The man who had once told him he didn’t need to force himself to look beautiful, because he already was. Who had told him not to deny his emotions, and who had comforted his very existence.

Damn it. The urge to follow after him was so strong that even Seolyeong himself couldn’t believe it.

When the long conversation ended, Seolyeong made his way quickly back to the inn he shared with Sahyeol Amje. He crossed the air without even pausing to breathe, but strangely, he couldn’t sense the man’s presence anywhere.

Of course, someone of his level could easily hide his energy. After scouring every corner of the place and calling out for him dozens of times in an increasingly irritated voice, Seolyeong still got no answer.

He waited well into the night, but his husband never appeared.

“Why…”

Was he out wandering around without him? The thought made Seolyeong feel hurt. “I had turned down so many hands just to come here and speak with you.”

Growing weary of waiting for the indifferent man, he rested his hands on the windowsill and looked up at the night sky. The starlight spread across the heavens, so bright it resembled his husband’s eyes. Just then, a strange hunch came over him. Somehow, he knew exactly where the man had gone.

Without hesitation, Seolyeong ran toward Mount Hwang. As he expected, the sect leader was perched high in a tree, watching the physician and Sipungjae was.

“Husband!”

Seolyeong leapt lightly onto a nearby branch and scolded him.

“If you were going to be here, you could’ve at least left a message. I would’ve come right away.”

The bride scolded him, but Tang Yujae didn’t even look his way as he asked,

“Why are you back already?”

“…What?”

“Aren’t the martial artists still embracing you?”

His eyes were fixed on Yuwon, the woman by the stream, carrying laundry in her arms.

Following the gaze chasing after his sister, Seolyeong suddenly felt a strange sense of kinship. He, too, had always been busy trailing behind Seolhyeon.

Unlike him, Seolhyeon had always been strong and upright. When someone pointed at her red eyes and spat in disgust, she would march forward without hesitation and confront them.

“If my eyes prove I’m a monster, then what about my nose? My mouth? My skin and my voice? The evidence I’m not a monster far outweighs the evidence I am. Why does no one bother to look at that?”

While he stepped back, telling himself not to stir up conflict, she stood firm. Because of that difference, they had fought often, unable to understand each other’s choices.

But looking back now, Seolhyeon had been right.

Strangely, at some point, people stopped calling her a monster. The Murong clan’s servants began to love her instead. They embraced her instead of shunning her. Admired her instead of fearing her. They called her “Our Lady Seolhyeon” with fondness in their voices.

“She’ll do just fine on her own.”

Seolyeong sat beside Tang Yujae and spoke with confidence.

“I mean the only physician. I have no right to judge anyone, but… every time she’s helped me, I felt her sincerity and warmth. In the way she desperately tries to save even blood fiends like me.”

“…..”

“I understand your concern for your sister. I felt the same. I was always afraid someone might hurt my sister, make her suffer, or leave her grieving. I treated her like a child, constantly worrying.”

But Seolhyeon had left him behind and become the master of her own life. She didn’t bend to others’ opinions or crumble under cruel words. And Seolyeong had taken pride in that, loving her all the more for it.

“No matter how worried you are, let her be. Even if life throws something painful her way, so what? She’ll face it head-on and make it through. Just because she’s your sister doesn’t give you the right to assume she’s helpless. I only say this because I’ve struggled with the same thoughts.”

Tang Yujae finally responded, still focused on his bride’s voice.

“I’m going to die soon.”

There it was again. That gloomy talk of death.

“It means I won’t be able to stay by her side like you did with your sister. If she faces hardship and calls for me, I won’t be there to help.”

By then, he would have crossed a road too far.

Tang Yujae didn’t fear death. It had long been a certainty, and he almost felt relieved by it. Finally, he could sleep without distraction or burden.

Seolyeong frowned.

“I’m sure, she’ll get back on her feet.”

He grabbed Tang Yujae’s face and turned it toward him, locking eyes.

“Don’t underestimate the physician and don’t treat her like a child who can’t leave without the sect leader.”

“Do you really think she can live an easy life?”

“Who lives an easy life? Everyone struggles sometimes. No one’s happy every single day. Even the animals on this mountain probably know better than to expect that.”

Tang Yujae gave a faint smile.

“You’re not even human, yet so well-versed in the human condition.”

“Yes, I know it very well. And you said it yourself. That I was more human than human in the way I let go of myself and gave in.”

Seolyeong’s gaze deepened. As he looked into those black eyes, he wondered. “Maybe the man who had driven me to the edge was himself stuck in an even deeper abyss.”

And if that were true, then maybe he could be the one to pull him out.

“If you’re that worried about your sister, then stop talking like you’re dying and start thinking about how to live longer. I’m sorry to the imugi, but I don’t think your time has come just yet.”

What would you look like in a place that wasn’t this pit of darkness? What kind of light would you show me then?

“Because this bride has not yet…seen the sect leader’s true face.”

The moonlight was so bright. Seolyeong swallowed, he suddenly wanted to kiss him. The moment Tang Yujae saw the slow movement of his throat, he reached out and cupped the back of his head. The space between them narrowed in an instant. Seolyeong’s eyes widened in surprise.

The moon shone cold and brilliant. Seolyeong thought vaguely that maybe he allowed the kiss because he was dazed by that moonlight. He wrapped his arms around the sect leader’s broad shoulders. The warmth of another person, in the middle of the night, was sweet enough to ache and too welcome to resist.