Camellia 151

When he opened his eyes, it was the faint light of dawn. He had no way of knowing how much time had passed since he lost consciousness. Overcome by drowsiness, Tang Yujae closed his eyes again.

A hand gently brushed and stroked his hair.

“Thank goodness.”

A whisper full of relief echoed in his ears. Yujae’s brows furrowed. Hearing the voice of the sister who had left Yeonhu at such an unexpected moment had put his nerves on edge.

Tang Yuwon, who had been inserting needles into the nearly healed flesh of his rotting arm, murmured again.

“I’ve decided not to hate you anymore, so don’t hate me either.”

Her forgiveness for the brother who had become a killer in the martial world wasn’t due to the persuasion of the Mad Bride. It was something she had resolved entirely on her own.

A faint scent of medicinal herbs lingered in the air. A silk cloth, steeped in brown liquid, brushed Yujae’s nape. The herbal infusion, boiled personally by the Divine Healer, seeped into the wounds where his flesh had torn away.

Just as martial artists who attain a higher state of enlightenment reach new realms of technique, Yuwon had also reached a remarkable milestone. She realized she had arrived at the level her master had occasionally described, where the meridian points of the body could be clearly sensed through touch.

If her master had seen her now, what would he have said?

He would probably have warned her not to become arrogant just because she felt proud of being able to save someone.

Yuwon thought of her master, who had taken her in after she fled from the massacre, and continued.

“After you handed me over to that martial artist from the North Sea, I ended up studying medicine under a man who claimed to be the only survivor from the Ice Palace.”

She vividly remembered stealing his books while living in that shabby place. Her master’s bundle always seemed full of useless texts. She hadn’t realized their value until he began teaching her acupuncture.

“When I told him I wanted to save people, he didn’t ask anything. He simply said this: that even a physician who can’t save lives is still a physician. That the heart that wants to save someone should remain the most important thing. Otherwise, you end up being a pathetic person who uses others’ lives as a bargaining chip to prove your own worth.”

When had she ever spoken so openly to her younger brother? Yuwon let out a quiet laugh.

“I think he saw right through me from the beginning.”

“…..”

“I wanted to prove it to you, Yujae. That I’m also someone who could run to save someone, just like you. You’ve hated me a lot, haven’t you?”

Even if no one else noticed, Yuwon did. She remembered the look in his eyes when he handed her over to the white-haired warrior and took her prayer beads. The boy who had carried her on his back showed eyes filled with resentment.

No matter how mature Yujae was for his age, he hadn’t been able to hide such raging emotions.

Because of his weak sister who had never learned martial arts, he’d had to give up a poor girl who had spent her life trapped in Gyehong Mountain. Yuwon could sense how the boy struggled, trying not to redirect the guilt and despair he felt onto her.

Because she had felt the same toward herself.

“I hated myself too, more than you could imagine.”

She had known that the moment she got off his back, she would die. Even so, she had clung to his neck, fully aware of how shameless it was. She had wanted to beat her own body to a pulp. She hadn’t forgotten that feeling, and she had no intention of ever forgetting it.

“You didn’t hold me accountable, and that made it even harder and more painful. Did you know that?”

If he had blamed her, maybe she could have raised her voice and offered excuses. That he, as a boy, had the opportunity to learn martial arts, while she did not. That she had been destined to marry a man chosen by their parents and become part of another household.

But Tang Yujae had blamed nothing. When they met again, he held out his hand with a calm gaze, as if all emotions had been washed away. Just like the boy who used to pick her up when she fell on the grass.

Seeing his breathing return to normal, Yuwon carefully removed the last needle. Then she finally let out a long sigh. She had been focused while administering acupuncture and hadn’t been able to relax enough to exhale fully.

Just as she was about to cradle Yujae’s neck to help him drink the herbal decoction, the man’s cracked lips moved.

“…My fingers won’t move well.”

Even with his eyes closed, it was clear he was stifling a laugh. His lips curled faintly, and Yuwon was left speechless.

Yujae, who peeked open one eye to study her reaction, grumbled like a fish splashing in water.

“Doesn’t this mean you’re bad at acupuncture?”

“Yujae, you…”

“If you numb my fingers, how am I supposed to braid your hair?”

Tears welled up in Yuwon’s clear eyes. Before they could fall, Tang Yujae added,

“Hayeon’s death wasn’t your fault.”

Yuwon lowered her head to suppress a sob. The boy who used to bring forget-me-nots whenever he bought pumpkin candy at the market had finally returned.

But she had never liked the blue flowers. She only accepted them because she couldn’t resist the sincerity and warmth of the hands that held them.

For his crying sister, Tang Yujae raised his arm. His fingers didn’t move the way he wanted, so he had to wipe her tears away with the back of his hand.

“Stop crying.”

“Yujae…”

All that anger she had been holding onto vanished in an instant. What had once been a fortress of resentment collapsed, leaving only a surge of longing.

Resting her face against the back of his hand, Yuwon wept quietly. She didn’t lift her head until sunlight streamed into the room. And in that moment, she realized something.

The boy she had missed so much might never have left her side to begin with.

“I’ll go out into the martial world and live by saving people. I’ll spend the rest of my life repaying the sins you committed, so just trust your sister and live on. Don’t take up a bloodstained sword again. Just finish those unread books… alright?”

Yujae smiled without a word. When Yuwon asked him to promise her the future, he buried his face in the pillow, saying he was too sleepy. Though barely alive, he figured spending his remaining time reading wouldn’t be too bad.

But there was something he wanted to see more than books.

As he thought of the bride he last saw, Tang Yujae reached under his eyes. The divine beast’s presence had grown stronger. It seemed the end was drawing near.

The imugi spoke.

–So, no words of thanks? I saved your life, didn’t I?

Yuwon couldn’t hear the voice. Her Qi senses weren’t yet stabilized. Using the excuse of wanting to rest, Yujae sent her out of the room and began his conversation with the imugi.

“How long do I have?”

–What do you mean.

“You know what I mean.”

–Judging by your arrogant tone, I assume you’ve gotten everything you wanted?

“You sound snippier than usual. Not enjoying the thought of ascension after all?”

–….

At the divine beast’s silence, Yujae stared at the mirror stand on the night table.

“How much longer can I live?”

The black dot gradually spread across his face, covering half of it. The imugi’s presence thickened.

–Probably a month. That’s when the heavenly gate will open.

Then the imugi would ascend to the celestial realm using this body. Yujae nodded, then flipped the mirror stand. He had expected only two or three days, so a month was a much bigger gain than anticipated.

How could he use the remaining time to sweet-talk his wife and get him to return to the martial world?

He had been plotting to kick his stubborn bride off Yeonhu Mountain. Now, he realized how uneasy he felt at the thought of leaving that idiot behind, who knew nothing but how to charge forward with brute force.

But he had faith. That someone loved by the heavens would eventually be recognized by the martial world as well and be treated accordingly.

His bride’s remaining life would surely be beautiful.