Camellia 141

However, there was one thing the man and woman, skilled in turning their tongues, had overlooked.

Namgung Woonpyeong was not the kind of man who would make a misguided decision in pursuit of the power to create the greatest martial artist in the world. As a man of the orthodox martial world, he had always strived to make choices he would not be ashamed of.

Was it not finally the moment when the war that had plunged the martial world into sorrow was drawing to a close? Thus, Namgung Woonpyeong could not afford to waver no matter what trials came his way.

Especially not when it involved his own blood, hiding his life and living within the nest of the Cheonma. If such a truth were revealed, would the martial world ever forgive the Namgung clan?

Or even forgive that shameless woman?

He knew full well that even if it had to end, it had to end by his hand. Only then would his sister not become the scapegoat for the Cheonma Divine Sect. Woonpyeong understood that with certainty.

“Live with shame for the rest of your life.”

Yet he could not shake the guilt of failing to protect his sister. He could not bring himself to drive his sister, who had returned alive, to her death. For the first time in his life, he turned away from the duty of an orthodox warrior. Woonpyeong opened his mouth in a locked voice, solely for the sake of his sister.

“You, who begged for your life like a beggar… and I, who could only turn a blind eye to you.”

What moved Namgung Woonpyeong was not greed or imitation of the Cheonma’s power. He had no intention of saving his sister just to mimic such strength. If he had truly desired the yeouiju, he would have killed Seonju and Tang Muhyeok on the spot, disposed of their bodies, and taken only the child.

The man hailed as the face of the orthodox martial world barely held back the urge to rip apart the Cheonma Divine Sect’s spy and instead demanded his sister’s safety.

In a situation like this, only Tang Muhyeok, who knew the whole story, could protect Seonju and the child she had borne. As for a place to hide the existence of this mother and daughter tied to the Cheonma, the closed and secretive Tang Family residence was the most suitable.

Had Seonju safely entered Sacheon, perhaps the fall of the Tang clan would never have occurred.

But something happened while the mother and daughter were traveling with Tang Muhyeok. In the dead of night, a sudden ambush descended upon them. The Lord of Daeyeonggak, who had long viewed the woman who veiled the eyes of the Cheonma as the source of all evil, finally unleashed his wrath.

Namgung Seonju, who had to fight while protecting her young daughter, sensed her death under the rain of blade strikes. The followers who had come with the Daeyeonggak Lord rushed at Seonju and her child, venting all the resentment they had accumulated over their losses.

To save her child, she had to make a quick decision. Seonju entrusted her daughter to the Tang clan head and whispered.

“Her name is Hayeon.”

It was the name she had never called out, even after the child had learned to walk. Now, with death before her, she finally murmured it with a pale face and a faint smile.

“‘Ha’ as in distant, ‘Yeon’ as in fate. So she will grow distant from an unworthy mother like me…”

“No. Please… please, just this once, don’t be cruel to me, Seonju. Let me stay by your side.”

Even as he pleaded, Tang Muhyeok knew. He would never be able to refuse a request from the woman he loved.

“Why must I always leave you behind, Seonju?”

It had always been that way. He granted her every wish, yet could never fully claim her for himself. That was the difference between the Cheonma, Hwaryun, and Tang Muhyeok.

Seonju spoke slowly.

“Because you’re the one who can keep my daughter alive. You’re the one who will keep her safe, always.”

Objectively speaking, she had only ever used Tang Muhyeok. She never gave him the love he desired. Yet this woman, who had already cut down more than half the forces of the Daeyeonggak, made a promise.

“If I survive, I’ll return to your side. I promise.”

It was the first and last promise she ever made. Whether she meant to keep it or never intended to, no one could say for sure.

Leaving his sorrow behind, Tang Muhyeok fled, clutching her words like a lifeline.

There had never been a choice to die together. If he had refused Seonju’s request, she would not have loved him, but hated him just as she did the Cheonma, and cursed him until the moment she died.

When he appeared, soaked in blood and carrying the child, the matron of the Tang clan did not scold him. She welcomed him calmly. Only after he had calmed did she cautiously ask for an explanation, but the Tang clan head simply flew into a rage. He knew his aggressive stance would only fuel the rumors, yet he could not restrain himself.

The Daeyeonggak Lord, Gyo Seokryun, was not a man generous enough to let the Cheonma’s child go. At any moment, he might lead the demonic sect’s forces in an ambush. In such a climate, staying calm was nearly impossible.

Yet strangely, the Daeyeonggak did not cross into Sacheon to seek Hayeon. Not two days later, not a week, not even after a month or a year.

The Tang clan head narrowed it down to two possible reasons.

First, Namgung Seonju had overpowered their forces.

Second, their true grudge had never been against the Cheonma’s bloodline.

The latter seemed more likely. If it had been the former, no one would have discovered the bones presumed to be Seonju’s.

Namgung Woonpyeong was furious upon learning of his sister’s death, but the Tang clan head suffered even more. He had to live face-to-face with a child who looked just like Seonju.

Namgung Woonpyeong needed no sympathy. He had become complicit the moment he allowed Seonju to escape from Masugung. From then on, the face of the orthodox sect had lost the right to speak.

But even he could not stop the Namgung clan from turning hostile toward the Tang clan, and Tang Muhyeok had to walk a tightrope for years.

His wife’s nagging was the least of his concerns. He cared nothing for the growing rumors surrounding the illegitimate child. When the survival of the family was at stake, who had the luxury to fret over such things? At times, he even shouted deliberately, as though venting regrets over his unresolved bond with Namgung Seonju.

“That’s right. I let that foolish woman die. The woman who looked just like the girl locked away in Gyehong Mountain. She rejected me, so I forced a child on her, then severed her limbs and tendons. I feared she might flee after giving birth. And yet she still took her own life, so I must have been truly unbearable. How do you feel, madam, now that you know the truth? Are you finally satisfied?”

“Lower your voice, husband. The children can hear you.”

“Whose children? Yours? Or that child, whose mother I tore apart but who survived alone?”

If only their first son had grown up properly to support the family, it might have been better. But the boy often sneaked out behind his parents’ backs, and his foolishness was no help to anyone.

The Tang clan custom dictated that the firstborn son would inherit the position of clan head, but the current heir was someone they would rather replace at once.

Tang Muhyeok and Tang Yujae were completely incompatible.

Eventually, the boy was nearly exiled for falling from his father’s favor. For amusement, he sneaked into Gyehong Mountain.

There, Tang Yujae met a girl with gray hair.

Her hair was a faded shade of ash, but her resilience did not come from inherited poison resistance. She was the last descendant of the Cheonma, bearing the power of a yeouiju in her danjeon.

“Orabeoni!”

Each time Yujae came to the cabin, Hayeon would greet him with a bright smile.

Seolyeong, watching the seemingly affectionate pair, felt his eyes sting strangely. He gently grasped Amje’s hand and spoke in a voice that sounded like it would crumble.

“I swear to the heavens.”

The love of the Cheonma, the love of Namgung Seonju, and even the love of Tang Muhyeok had all gone astray.

Seolyeong often felt bitter whenever his husband insisted that love was an emotion that should end when the time came. As if he had experienced countless loves, yet chose to reject and suppress only Seolyeong’s.

“I will not torment the sect leader with such sick love.”

Now, he understood why that advice had been repeated. Perhaps it was better to keep love shallow and light, than to suffer from a festering love that had rotted through. Judging by all that had happened so far, it certainly seemed so.

Leaning his face against his husband’s shoulder, Seolyeong let out a small, trembling breath.