Camellia 150
by LiliumA suffocating gloom hung over every corner of the Yurigung. Even so, the snow that had accumulated in all directions remained as pristine as ever, making the air feel even more chilling.
Ashes from the burned halls scattered across the snowfield, mixing black dust into the pure white. Stepping into the palace, Tang Yuwon was left speechless.
The path to the Sect Leader’s bedchamber.
Thanks to the unwavering defense of the Geukmunggak Lord and Jipilgak Lord, the rear garden of Gwanju Hall had preserved its original form and welcomed her in. It was a place marked by traces of her younger brother. He had once struggled to endure the yin energy flooding his body, trying to ease his pain by unleashing biting cold and heavy snowfall.
Back then, Yuwon had wanted to save him. Her goal had been to soothe the pain that devoured his life, using the medical skills she had honed.
Later on, she found herself doubting who had really needed saving.
‘When did I start to hate you?’
She walked, sifting through memories of days gone by. She remembered those years spent in a shabby hut at the edge of Gyehong Mountain, when they would sit together and share sweets.
Back then, Tang Yujae had been a boy who knew how to braid his sisters’ hair with surprising skill. His deft hands, so unlike a typical boy’s, made her laugh without meaning to, and she would always crack a joke just as the final braid was done.
‘What if you spend your whole life chasing after us, braiding our hair?’
At that, Hayeon would butt in and whisper that she planned to send a message and a bouquet every day even after Yuwon got married. And the moment Yujae, eavesdropping, muttered that stealing someone’s bride would bring divine punishment, Hayeon answered without missing a beat:
‘As long as you and my sister don’t get punished, I don’t care what happens to me.’
Regret she had tried to ignore now rose in her throat. Standing before the bedchamber door, Yuwon took a slow breath.
The day she escaped from the Tang clan massacre on her little brother’s back.
The day she stayed silent, knowing Hayeon was still in the field of poisonous herbs.
The guilt of neither going back for her younger sister nor dying with her still clung to Yuwon’s chest like tar.
There are memories people can’t forget, no matter how much they try. For her, that memory was the day the black-masked warriors stormed the Sacheon Tang clan.
But unforgettable memories don’t always drag people into the mire.
Steeling herself, Yuwon opened the door with a resolute face. The Gyo-mo had been right. Unless someone remembered the Tang Yujae from those days, there would be no true healer left in the martial world who wanted to save him. Even the Divine Healer, who took in any patient without bias, had eventually descended from Yeonhu Mountain after losing patience with the growing evil.
Recalling the boy who once carried her down the mountain decades ago, Yuwon finally understood why she had chosen the path of medicine.
‘I wanted to save people.’
Even from a distance, Sahyeol Amje’s lying straight on the crimson bedding bore the color of death. Black blotches had spread to his face. It wasn’t just a change in pigment, but decay that had turned flesh into crushed, rotting matter.
‘I was pathetic, unable to save anyone.’
The same thoughts that had come to the boy Yujae as he turned the pages of the Poison Iron Manual now surged within her. Now that the world had shifted, she felt she too had been given a chance.
A chance to become strong, like the martial artists around her.
Even if she couldn’t wield their weapons or command inner Qi, she could become just as strong in her own way. Strength is still strength, even if it takes a different form. Her master had told her time and again: the power to save and heal others might be even stronger than the power to harm and kill.
Yuwon walked up to the bed and gently stroked the man’s worn face. Then, in the soft tone she used as a child, she whispered,
“If you wake up, will you braid my hair again?”
She pulled out a box filled with acupuncture needles. Choosing the longest one, she felt its cool touch settle familiarly in her palm.
Gazing quietly at the tip of the needle, Yuwon focused. Depending on how the first acupoint responded, the entire course of the treatment could change. She had to be precise.
After a short meditation, her hand began to move.
It was the moment a disciple, once estranged from her master, was reborn as a new physician.
***
Did I die and enter the Peach Blossom Paradise1? If I were to fall anywhere, it’d be the Realm of Asura2, not here.
A garden in full bloom.
A brook ran through it, its waters so clear that even the pebbles at the bottom were visible. It was hard to tell whether the water was shallow or deep.
The sky shone bright, like the robes of a celestial maiden. The clouds had descended low, drifting with such elegance they seemed to be hiding divine beasts behind them.
In the center of the garden, where pink petals lay thick, a man lounged at ease. His white hair looked somewhat like the Ice Palace people’s, but not quite. Maybe it was because strands of blue ran through the snowy locks.
The robe he wore was a bold golden color, something only a man of considerable nerve would dare to put on. The embroidery on it reminded that of an emperor, making him look ostentatious.
As the man hummed quietly, Tang Yujae stood still, enchanted. The moment the humming stopped, he moved, barefoot, stepping carefully over the petals.
When his shadow fell beneath the peach tree, the man opened his eyes and spoke with a teasing tone.
“What a nostalgic way to meet again.”
His tongue, as it licked his lower lip, was unusually long and forked at the tip. Clearly a snake’s tongue. His golden eyes, tinged with vermilion, stared up at Yujae before he pushed himself up with a grunt. His long, trailing robes rustled, releasing the sweet scent of fruit wine.
“Do you know how badly I’ve wanted to touch you?”
The imugi cold hand cupped Yujae’s cheek. Drawing in close, the divine beast studied his contract partner’s face in detail. This might be the last time they saw each other like this, with both of them in their original forms.
Tang Yujae stood on the edge of death. His soul had shattered into countless fragments, and the imugi had slipped into the gaps left behind. But this meeting couldn’t last. Whether Yujae survived or not, he would soon be gone from this place.
But… it would be nice if he survived a little longer.
“If you die now, I’ll have to ascend with your worn-out corpse. The other imugi up there would never let me live it down. I’ll take your life with me when I ascend, so try not to die before then.”
The imugi let go of his cheek. Thanks to the disciple of the Divine Healer doing her best to treat him, Yujae’s body was gradually stabilizing. But unless a more decisive intervention happened, he would only be granted a peaceful death at best. The Qi was leaving his body faster than any healing could keep up with.
Haaa–The Imoogi let out a long sigh, then smirked.
“Your bride would probably throw a fit if he saw this…”
Their faces met in an instant.
“But what choice do I have? If I don’t do this, your body will rot from head to toe.”
The imugi kissed him without hesitation. A breath with a bitter edge slipped between their tightly joined lips. Though the kiss held no affection, the effect it produced was enormous. Divine energy poured straight into Yujae, and the sick body began to react.
Pulling back with a grin, the imugi muttered,
“Now you see how merciful I am?”
Peach blossoms whirled around Yujae’s body like a storm.
“You should be grateful you resemble Hwaryun.”
Without another word, the imugi pushed Tang Yujae’s consciousness out. The rain of petals scattered and fell silent, leaving only the divine beast behind beneath the Peach Blossom Paradise.
As he stood alone in the silence, he let himself wonder something pointless.
“What would’ve happened… if Hwaryun had loved me back?”
Humans blinded by that feeling were always the same. Pitiful. Beautiful. There was no denying that sometimes, the thought of leaving the world without ever knowing that kind of bond felt unbearably small.
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