Camellia 132

Sa Yeoho was a rather handsome man. With a keen eye for beauty, even Seolyeong, who was notoriously picky about the appearance of other men, had to admit that his looks were passable. Moreover, Sa Yeoho, deeply versed in the ways of men, knew how to charm even his own gender.

He cast his gaze downward with subtle languor and wore an expression tinged with melancholy as he whispered toward the sect leader.

“O transcendent one who has transcended all heavens, shall this lowly servant vacate the seat in reverence of your divinity?”

His soft-spoken tone made the Mad Bride’s eyes twist into a fierce scowl.

A small beauty mark beside the corner of Sa Yeoho’s red lips somehow irritated Seolyeong. To his eyes, Sa Yeoho’s seductive aura, and the way he seemed to flaunt his assets even before learning how to read, were off-putting. He, the most virtuous man under heaven, found it repellent.

Tang Yujae, realizing that the lord of Geukmunggak was deriving amusement through his wife, gave a warning.

“Mind yourself.”

Sa Yeoho clicked his tongue and dropped the act. Returning to his usual mischievous expression, he started to rise.

But unexpectedly, Sahyeol Amje cast the Mad Bride out instead.

“Go play with the crossdresser.”

At the moment his fingers snapped, Seolyeong’s body was flung back by an immense pressure.

Thrown out the window, and to prevent him from barging back into Haeseong Pavilion, Tang Yujae meticulously raised a barrier. Bang. Boom. Seolyeong seemed to be fiercely swinging his sword to break through it.

Ignoring the noise, Tang Yujae shifted the subject.

“What is Daeyeonggak’s current stance?”

The Eight Pavilion Lords of the Cheonma Divine Sect each had their own interests. Some, like the Daeyeonggak or the Okhaenggak Lord, were fanatics devoted to the Cheonma, while others, like the lord of Geukmunggak, had naturally gained authority by being born into the most prestigious family within the sect.

The latter group generally showed little interest in conquest or domination over the martial world.

“He is still waiting for the right time. If need be, he may even charge into the martial world on his own, leading a band of misfits.”

Sa Yeoho stretched out his limbs. Even in front of the Supreme One, he never bothered to mind his manners. And Tang Yujae never rebuked him for it.

Tang Yujae, after all, was tolerant of insolence so long as it did not inconvenience him. Sa Yeoho had been the first among the pavilion lords to understand how to properly serve the divine.

“Do you truly intend to fulfill that man’s wish, my lord?”

Indeed, it was Daeyeonggak’s efforts that had been crucial in gathering the scattered remnants of the sect and restoring order. But now, that card had lost its use.

The martial world had already been brought to its knees, and the sect had reclaimed its former prestige. In these peaceful times, Sa Yeoho saw the old pavilion lord’s yearning for a fruitless war as nothing more than senility.

As always, Tang Yujae responded with an inscrutable expression.

“The child under Geukmunggak’s care, how is he doing?”

Sensing that his god wished to change the subject, Sa Yeoho gave a gentle smile and answered.

“I’ve long had my eye on him. Now that you’ve kindly handed him over to me, I’ve been treating him with the utmost affection.”

“I did not send him to you to be used as a plaything.”

“Yes, yes, of course. Which is why I have been holding back the urge to suck on his fingers and have instead been nurturing his potential as a proper sorcerer.”

“And his talent?”

It was a blunt question. Sa Yeoho lowered his voice.

“None. He is inherently incapable of harboring malice. Why else would people in the sect say he seems like someone from an orthodox clan? But he is persistent and tenacious. It remains to be seen. Sorcery often reveals itself all at once.”

As he had expected this response, Tang Yujae showed no surprise.

After wrapping up a few more topics and submitting his report, Sa Yeoho gave a courteous bow and exited. Only then did Tang Yujae lift the barrier that had blocked his bride.

Just as he did, there came a loud crash, and Seolyeong rolled back into the room.

“Ugh…”

Rubbing his bruised forehead, he sprang to his feet and stormed toward Tang Yujae. Clearly displeased at having been cast out to make room for a conversation with another man.

Bang. He slammed his hands on the table and began speaking in a tone that resembled an adult scolding a child.

“Try putting yourself in my shoes. What if I brought a man like Geukmunggak’s lord to share tea in secret? How would you feel? You’d be so annoyed you’d want to lock me up inside, wouldn’t you?”

Seolyeong felt the same. Ever since he realized that Sahyeol Amje was a man skilled in manipulating people’s hearts, his anxiety had only grown.

But no matter how agitated he became, Tang Yujae showed no signs of emotional reaction.

“You know how to use the Fire Dragon Sword, don’t you?”

A remark so out of context that Seolyeong could only stare in disbelief. Laughing dryly, he waited, and Tang Yujae offered an explanation.

“In four days, you will wield Gyeokroe-do and display the Fire Dragon Sword. Focus your efforts on that.”

The Fire Dragon Sword was practically synonymous with Murong Wi’s identity. Seolyeong asked why he, of all people, had to perform it, and why with Gyeokroe-do. But the sect leader gave no answer.

Only after much pestering did he offer a cryptic remark.

“We must pass through the net of time.”

Then, declaring that he had to meet with the Okhaenggak Lord, he tried to dismiss Seolyeong again. To Seolyeong, this behavior felt nothing short of cruel.

Since returning to Yeonhu, Tang Yujae had barely looked at him. It seemed he thought simply leaving him at Yeonhwa Hall was enough, never checking in or showing concern. The way he had once called him lover, made his heart race, now seemed a distant illusion.

Seolyeong slammed the table again and said,

“Before I go anywhere, I need at least one promise. When are you going to give me a ring?”

He needed something to prove their bond. As he wiggled his empty fingers demonstratively, Tang Yujae placed his hand over Seolyeong’s and, without hesitation, flipped open his clothing.

“Wearing a ring would make it hard to pick up ashes.”

Momentarily speechless, Seolyeong hesitated, then sighed and answered.

“Well, I have no intention of being cremated. I told you I would die at your side. You’re not even listening to me, are you…”

“You’re going to leave here, whether you like it or not.”

“Who says?”

Just as Sahyeol Amje often did, Seolyeong laced their fingers together and. The blood fiend nature he had suppressed deep within stirred behind his red eyes.

He had no intention of letting this man seduce him and then abandon him. He wanted to claim Sahyeol Amje as his own. The way he seemed just within reach yet never truly yielded filled him with resentment.

Sensing the sharp flow of Qi that signaled Okhaenggak Lord Mae Somyeong’s approach, Tang Yujae pulled his wife’s hand away.

“Go now. I will spare time for you this evening if you have something to say.”

Mae Somyeong was a woman who saw blood fiends as traitors. A meeting between her and the bride would not end well.

Seolyeong knew this too, yet his resolve only hardened. He glared and said,

“I don’t believe you. You’ve tossed me around so much, I can’t tell truth from lies anymore. Will you really see me tonight?”

There was no need for a reply. Sitting on the edge of the table, he placed both hands on Tang Yujae’s cheeks and spoke in a voice dry with longing.

“Kiss me.”

Strangely, more than the neck that had once gifted him sweet blood, it was the sect leader’s lips he craved most. Perhaps this aching desire was proof that he had truly fallen in love.

“Hold me. Kiss me. If you do that, I’ll wait quietly until evening.”

“…”

“Come on. You taught me how to do this, didn’t you?”

“Ahyeong.”

“What, did you teach me just so you could rub lips when you were aroused and walk away when you were done?”

After repeated jabs, Tang Yujae finally cupped Seolyeong’s neck in one hand and slowly drew him close. Their lips met, and Seolyeong, as if he had been waiting only for this moment, hungrily drew in his tongue.

The satisfaction send a shiver down his spine. Before he could regain clarity, he bared his pointed fangs and bit into the sect leader’s lips.