Camellia 137

The fact that the blood relative of the Murim Alliance Leader, Namgung Woonpyeong, was once the lover of the former sect leader, left Seolyeong speechless. It was clearly the sort of event that could plunge the martial world into chaos. Stunned, he gently tugged at Sahyeol Amje’s sleeve.

“I am… deeply shaken. How could the head of the Cheonma Divine Sect be involved with a daughter of the Namgung clan…”

“Quiet.”

But the question was cut off by Tang Yujae at once.

The two martial artists, who had been exchanging light strikes and sparring with graceful sword techniques, soon lowered their blades. Seolyeong swallowed hard and watched their movements with anxious eyes. The woman, after a short martial bow, tied her disheveled hair into a knot and spoke.

“I hear the blood fiend troops raised by the Madu continue to push back the vanguard. They say the second son of the Jegal clan fell into demonic madness and turned on his own comrades. At this rate, shouldn’t we be rethinking our strategy?”

“This is not something you need concern yourself with, Seonju.”

Namgung Woonpyeong’s voice turned stern as he smoothly sheathed his sword. The woman scratched her cheek awkwardly, and the atmosphere immediately grew cold.

Trying to thaw the sudden chill, Namgung Woonpyeong asked in a softer tone.

“By the way, when are you planning to introduce that man you’ve been hiding from us to the family?”

It was a voice filled with warmth and affection for his younger sister. Tang Yujae’s dark eyes narrowed as they observed Woonpyeong.

If he had known that his sister was involved with the Cheonma, there was no way he could maintain such calm. Which meant Yujae’s doubts turned elsewhere.

Did this woman, who would one day be imprisoned in the Tang family manor to give birth to Hayeon, even know that the man she was with was the sect leader of the Cheonma Divine Sect?

Namgung Seonju stretched as she passed by her brother.

“You’d just embarrass him so badly he’d never show his face again.”

The heirs of prestigious clans were expected to marry according to arrangements. Even Namgung Woonpyeong had taken a wife chosen by their parents.

But Seonju, with her rebellious streak, ignored the family’s expectations and carried on the relationship however she pleased. Of course, even she couldn’t say how long that defiance could last.

Namgung Woonpyeong frowned and grabbed his sister’s arm.

“Seonju.”

“Let go, Brother. You shouldn’t be laying hands so carelessly on a woman’s body.”

Though it was said in jest, Seonju’s expression had grown noticeably colder. She was clearly irritated by her elder brother’s constant interference in her private affairs.

Woonpyeong sighed heavily, making sure she could hear it.

“If you truly can’t bring yourself to introduce him, then at least tell us what kind of man he is. You know how the martial world is right now, under siege from the Madu. It unsettles me that you’re still wandering about so freely. What if something should happen to you…”

“He’s childish, and sweet.”

Seonju calmly peeled his fingers from her arm as she replied. Her tone was sharp.

“He’s not someone to be suspicious of, so stop worrying unnecessarily.”

“And how can you be so sure of that?”

Woonpyeong’s response was firm, his expression stern. The siblings exchanged long, exasperated looks, treating each other as fools.

Namgung Seonju, though born with exceptional talent, did not live by the same model virtues that the rest of her clan followed. Like a wild bird, she cherished her freedom, and any attempt to cage her only brought her to fury.

“My life is mine to manage. You’d do well to mind your own.”

“You have to accept that the world is not as simple as you think. That fool of yours, the one you’re protecting… Why did he become your lover in a time like this?”

Seonju let out a long, exasperated laugh.

“Are you seriously suggesting that he might be a member of the Demon Sect?”

“If we don’t question it, the whole martial world could end up bleeding.”

“He has damaged meridians. It would take decades just to begin learning martial arts again. I suspect he was expelled from his clan, but I haven’t heard the details yet. The energy in his body is so weak it’s barely a thread. Do you really believe a man like that could worship demons? He’d have been executed on the spot for defiling the sect with his weakness.”

The Cheonma Divine Sect despised the weak. There were already confirmed rumors that the blood fiend, Eun Yajeong, would decapitate wounded sect members and hurl their heads toward the enemy lines.

If the man Seonju knew had truly been involved with the sect, he would have been killed long ago, punished for daring to stain the dignity of the sect leader.

Namgung Woonpyeong rubbed his face with a troubled look. Seonju turned away at once and stomped off across the dueling grounds.

In truth, Woonpyeong knew very well that the more he tried to restrain her, the more defiant she would become. Still, he couldn’t help himself. That nagging worry was likely the fault of what the fortune-teller had told them when he last visited the clan.

“If her wings are not clipped, she will peck out even the eyes of the innocent. She bears the fate to devour even her own child’s life. A childless life would be best for her… perhaps it’s better she raise a dog than a child.”

The prophecy had left Namgung Woonpyeong furious. But the old man, unfazed, had jingled his gold trinkets as he wandered around the estate, and then, just before leaving, sought out Woonpyeong in secret.

“If you dream of a black pomegranate, slip her an herbal tea that will end the pregnancy before she even realizes it. The dream will come to you, young master. I risk much in telling you this.”

The man was renowned for his prophetic readings, even summoned by the inner palace of the royal court. Woonpyeong could not easily dismiss the warning.

He blocked the old man’s path and demanded boldly,

“What is the end you see for the martial world? Will it be our side that perishes, or the Cheonma Divine Sect?”

The old man stroked his thick beard. His misaligned eyes blinked rapidly.

“The martial world will remain… but the Cheonma Divine Sect will lose its master, its conviction, and…”

His body began to tremble violently, as if seized by a trance. Woonpyeong looked down at him, confused.

“…its name and its history.”

Only after delivering this ominous prophecy did the old man finally stop shaking. With wrinkled hands, he gently patted Woonpyeong’s broad shoulder.

“It is certain to come to pass. No matter what happens, you must not lose heart.”

The meaning of his words lingered heavily in Woonpyeong’s mind, compelling him to seek out his sister.

To be told that she would consume even her own child’s life… the shadow of misfortune seemed to creep ever closer to her heels, and Woonpyeong could not help but feel anxious. Worse still, Seonju had already fallen in love and refused to heed anyone’s advice.

As Namgung Woonpyeong moved to follow her, Seolyeong looked to Sahyeol Amje for an explanation. Ever since discovering that the one who had been so carefree with the Namgung clan’s martial artist was in fact the sect leader of the Cheonma Divine Sect, he had been frozen in shock.

Tang Yujae’s mind was also tangled with thoughts, but he did not show it outwardly. It was simply the image of a face, so closely resembling Hayeon’s, that haunted him. The neatly arched brows, the spirited curve of her lips, they all lingered in his eyes.

Now, at last, he could understand why the Lord of the Tang family had looked upon Hayeon with such torment, as though he were seeing the ghost of a dead woman.

Everything about Hayeon mirrored her. Even her voice, laced with the sound of wind, had that faint androgynous echo.

“Will you protect me, brother?”

As he recalled the girl he once wished so desperately to protect from looming tragedy, Tang Yujae continued to dig through the past of the martial world.

Whatever had driven that girl to her death would determine the fate of everything. The world might be granted a longer breath of life, or the Cheonma Divine Sect might lose its name and history instead.

Whichever path it led to, the decision rested with Tang Yujae alone. The orthodox sects of the martial world now stood like helpless prey in the palm of a snake.