Camellia 125

After the duel with Sahyeol Amje, Seolyeong began to win match after match. It was only natural that the late-stage talents of the orthodox sects couldn’t lay a finger on him. He had always been outstanding, but ever since entering Yeonhu, he had been forced to train his body and mind by sparring with none other than Sahyeol Amje, the strongest man under heaven.

As he swept through the tournament with unstoppable momentum, many martial artists looked at him with eyes full of respect. Seolyeong knew exactly what those gazes meant.

Admiration.

Something he never imagined he would receive while standing among the martial world.

In the past, he would’ve been overwhelmed with emotion and rushed to respond to each one of them individually. But today, he felt nothing in particular toward the martial artists around him.

Maybe it was because he knew that these victories weren’t entirely his own. If the Cheonma Divine Sect’s Samasa hadn’t deliberately let him win, then it would’ve been Tang Yujae standing on the stage, overwhelming everyone with his display of skill.

“Where are you hiding now…”

Slipping away from the crowd of men, Seolyeong focused on tracking down his husband.

To be honest, he was a bit sulky about the fact that he wouldn’t get to see Sahyeol Amje’s swordplay anymore. Where else could he find someone who wielded swift swordsmanship so freely? Once they returned to Yeonhu, it would be impossible to convince him to spar again, no matter how much he clung to his leg. That made the disappointment even heavier.

After lingering near the dueling arena for some time, a thought struck him and he abruptly turned around.

“Don’t tell me he went to steal Gyeokroe-do…”

Their entire reason for visiting Hapbi was to obtain that famed sword, so it wasn’t an unreasonable guess.

Slipping through Changhyeong Pavilion, Seolyeong crept into the deep inner grounds of the Namgung clan estate, his eyes darting anxiously. Sneaking into the front yard of the leader of the Murim Alliance was not exactly a pleasant experience.

He was carefully crossing the roof of a four-story building that seemed to house someone important when he overheard voices.

“Since it’s just you and me, I’ll say it plainly. It’s definitely suspicious. Unless they’re rogues trained in some unknown sect’s martial arts, how do two unknowns manage to execute the Murong sword technique so flawlessly? Doesn’t it seem like they’re hiding their identity? If they were proper martial artists, they’d be fighting under the Murong name.”

“Heh… that actually makes sense… But are we certain it was really the Murong sword technique they used?”

“They said the second son of the Murong family saw their match and asked to check the participant list immediately, claiming they were from his family. That’s more than enough proof.”

Two tall guards patrolling the garden were whispering. Seolyeong, realizing they were beginning to suspect his and his husband’s identity, tapped his forehead in frustration.

He should’ve held back. He’d gotten too caught up in the match and ended up using more internal energy than they had agreed on.

To make matters worse, it seemed the Murong clan, though they hadn’t sent participants due to a shortage of young talents, had still sent someone to observe. What were the chances?

“If it was the second son… hmm, that must be Murong Kwon. Why would that guy suddenly come to Hapbi? Could it have something to do with the elder’s return to Yonyeong?”

The tall men continued their conversation.

“They were injured in the last match, right? Arms and legs and all. But then suddenly they were swinging swords like nothing happened. Isn’t that suspicious enough?”

“Any accomplished martial artist would heal quickly.”

“Exactly. So why is everyone acting like they’ve never seen such a skilled fighter before?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a hidden master whose name isn’t known…”

“Come on, now. Two hidden masters of that level suddenly appearing in one place? That’s ridiculous.”

Hearing this, Seolyeong grew anxious and took off at once, face set in a grim expression.

He’d been completely distracted by Tang Yujae. First the kiss, and then the so-called lover declaration he still couldn’t believe, even after hearing it with his own ears. His thoughts had been far too preoccupied.

“Anyway, that man’s an expert at messing with people… Not that I count as people, so maybe I shouldn’t say that.”

Grumbling under his breath, he sensed Tang Yujae’s aura nearby and leapt onto a pale blue tiled roof. His movement was light and silent, not even the tiniest sound echoing underfoot.

Using his open senses, he followed the trail. The cool, sweet scent of poison led him to an artificial pond with warm water flowing through it.

‘As expected from a wealthy clan…’

Even among noble houses, the Namgung estate was incomparably grander and more refined than the Murong residence.

To the left of the steaming pond, in a flower bed, two figures sat across from each other at a tall table. Seolyeong frowned as he caught sight of them.

‘…What? Why did he drop his disguise?’

Sahyeol Amje wasn’t hiding his handsome face at all.

His features, elegant and sharply drawn, were exposed without restraint. Watching silently made it all the more clear. That man really had the kind of appearance women would fall for at a glance. Seolyeong could suddenly understand why a martial artist from the Peng clan had fallen so helplessly for Sahyeol Amje.

“Is the tea to your taste?”

The middle-aged woman sitting across from Sahyeol Amje asked softly.

–Don’t get the wrong idea. It’s not an affair.

Tang Yujae’s voice reached him through sound transmission as he gently tapped the teacup with his finger.

“It’s light, as expected from white tea. Very refined.”

“The aroma is particularly deep and steady. They say a single cup of such tea can trace the footsteps of an elegant martial artist.”

“Someone like your father?”

The question was thrown out casually, both probing and testing her.

She smiled faintly and replied.

“I’d say he’s closer to black tea than white. Bold aroma, strong aftertaste, and he has always been someone others could look up to.”

“It sounds like you’re implying that’s no longer the case.”

“Well… he’s been bedridden for so long.”

She took a sip, savoring the fragrance, then spoke quietly.

“What brings you to Hapbi, Sect Leader?”

The way she addressed him startled Seolyeong so much he nearly revealed himself on the spot.

“I recognized it from your grip. The way you raise your thumb slightly when drawing horizontally with your blade. In fact you deliberately did it to give me clue that would allow me to detect the sect leader’s presence.”

“Your eye for detail surpasses your father’s.”

However the person whose identity has been disclosed showed no surprise. His response was leisurely, as if he’d expected it.

“To think the Alliance Leader has such a clever eldest daughter. Tsk. Is he still unconscious?”

When Sahyeol Amje openly mentioned something that could expose the woman’s identity, Seolyeong hurriedly clapped a hand over his mouth. If he’d been a second slower, he would’ve shouted, “How could this be!”

Namgung Shin, eldest daughter of Namgung Woonpyeong and known as the Pale Orchid Sword, responded with a more serious tone.

“Shall I speak frankly?”

“It’s up to your judgment.”

“According to the physicians, he may regain consciousness soon. Which is why I’d rather not have to report that a married couple of rogues from the Cheonma Divine Sect made a scene at the tournament and vanished without a word.”

Her voice was calm and composed, her focus entirely on the present. There was no trace of resentment or hostility, even though she had apparently figured out Seolyeong’s identity as well.

Namgung Shin knew all too well. If you let your emotions lead when confronting the Samasa of the Demonic Sect, you would end up ruined. Her father, Namgung Woonpyeong, had been the clearest example of that.

“What is it that brought you out into the world?”

Which was why, the moment she confirmed his identity, she had discreetly sent word to Tang Yujae, avoiding all attention.

Sahyeol Amje shrugged and spoke in an easy tone.

“I need a favor. And I figured you were the one I could talk to.”

His narrow, snake-like eyes curved into a crescent-shaped smile.

“Let my lover compete at full strength. If he wins the tournament, don’t let politics get in the way. Award him Gyeokroe-do fairly.”

The warning was clear. It meant: no rigged disqualifications, no underhanded tricks. No more of the shady tactics that so often turned up in tournaments like this.

After a long silence, Namgung Shin asked,

“Lover?”

For her, the term was understandably confusing. Married couples didn’t usually call each other that.

But Tang Yujae responded shamelessly.

“The camellia who married into my land.”

“….”

“I’ve been treating him like a lover lately.”

Then, just in case Seolyeong was about to lose his mind again, he sent a low whisper through sound transmission.

–Close your mouth, Ahyeong, before I say something even more affectionate.

Seolyeong froze, caught red-handed, just when he’d been about to scream at him to stop spouting nonsense.