Camellia 152

The exhausted Lord of Jipilgak gave a string of instructions for rebuilding Yurigung, while the Lord of Geunkmunggak, who had secretly been lying on the roof, was caught and thoroughly scolded before being dragged down.

While the two men argued, Seolyeong was being badgered by Choseon, who had caught wind of the fact that the physician from Yeonhu had returned to the sect and kept pressing him to help him make contact.

“Murong brat. Do you really hate the idea of me becoming a real man that much? If things go well with her, I think I could finally take off the skirt and live like a proper man.”

“Then take it off. Why are you the one putting it on and acting like I owe you something?”

“Oh, how heartless.”

Choseon was just as persistent as the pavilion lords, making it no easy task to shake him off. In the end, Seolyeong, worn out by his nagging, had no choice but to use a slick display of gyeonggong to escape deep into Chiljeong Mountain.

Collapsing onto a wide boulder, he rubbed his ears, which had been worn out from Choseon’s chatter. The sky was strikingly clear and blue. The breeze blowing through the forest carried a refreshing scent of grass.

It was a truly peaceful day.

Suddenly, Seolyeong sensed something within him had changed.

He could feel the density of the wind and the flow of the air through his skin. Even with his eyes closed, he could sense the positions of objects around him, and even saw the illusion of a small bird hopping along a distant branch as if it were right before his eyes.

Seolyeong gasped and opened his eyes wide and sat upright.

“What… what is this?”

He took a deep breath, but his startled heart would not settle. Seonwol-do began to hum with a strong vibrating sound. A warm light was already enveloping the blade. Seolyeong tilted his head in confusion as he grabbed the heated hilt.

“What’s got you so excited now?”

Seonwol-do, clearly in high spirits, slipped out of his hand and flew through the air in rapid circles. Even though he didn’t know the reason for the sword’s excitement, Seolyeong laughed along like a fool. Watching it frolic like a puppy seeing snow for the first time made him happy, too.

He clapped and cheered, “Good boy, well done,”

“Lord of Geungmunggak, Sa Yeoho, has come to…”

Having rushed to find the Mad Bride after hearing from Yuwon that the Sect Leader had awakened, Sa Yeoho stopped mid-sentence. He stared at the Gyo-mo, kneeling on both knees in an awkward position. Sitting on the boulder, Seolyeong slowly turned his head. His crimson eyes, brighter than gemstones, sparkled more vividly than ever.

His cultivation had grown so much that he had unknowingly broken through the illusion cast by the Sect Leader.

“Long live, long live, long live the Gyo-mo!”

Overcome with faith, Sa Yeoho chanted with a face full of fervor and bowed deeply. The energy he had just felt clearly belonged to someone who had transcended the limits of the mortal realm. It felt like the first time he had ever experienced the Sect Leader’s presence, a feeling that made every hair on his body stand on end.

As Sa Yeoho remained bowed without moving, Seolyeong asked with a puzzled look,

“What are you doing?”

Raising only his face, Sa Yeoho looked up at him with awe. After staring at Seolyeong for a long moment, he finally revealed his purpose.

“The Sect Leader coughed.”

“What? When?”

“Just now. He’s soaking in medicinal water, so maybe in about one hour….”

Unfortunately, Sa Yeoho never finished his sentence. Seolyeong, who had already dashed past him like the Red hare, leapt upward with vigorous steps.

Watching the figure disappear into the sky, Sa Yeoho trembled as he formed a respectful gesture with his hands. The Cheonma Divine Sect was a sect that revered and pursued strength. Now that even the Gyo-mo appeared to have reached the pinnacle alongside the Sect Leader, he was overwhelmed with joy.

Yurigung may have burned down, but it seemed the sect’s lifeline had been preserved.

With both the Sect Leader and the Gyo-mo possessing divine martial prowess, how could they possibly fall?

*

His footwork was bold and unrestrained. Seolyeong soared through the sky like a falcon. At this rate, he might even be able to keep pace with Sahyeol Amje.

Brimming with confidence, he landed lightly on the roof of Gwanju Hall.

“Ah.”

Fragments of shattered tiles fell from underfoot. He was about to head inside, but catching a glimpse of his reflection in the polished wall, he quickly paused to fix himself.

He neatly tied back the hair he had left messy, smoothed the wrinkles from his robes, and only then, with a slightly relieved expression, stepped into Gwanju Hall.

If he was going to reunite with his husband, he wanted to do so looking his best.

But the bedchamber was empty.

“Oh, right. The bath.”

Suddenly recalling Sa Yeoho’s report, he hurried to correct his course. In his urgency, he had rushed straight to the sleeping quarters.

Nearing the bathhouse, he felt his beloved’s presence. Seolyeong pressed a hand against his racing chest and exhaled a long breath.

What should he say first when he saw Sahyeol Amje?

With every step, his anticipation grew, but so did his unease. That affectionate, selfish man, would he welcome their reunion? Seolyeong still wasn’t sure. What if he got angry, thinking Seolyeong had forced him back to life?

But Seolyeong chose courage.

He threw open the doors to the indoor bath and shouted boldly.

“The most beautiful in the world has come to see you, husband!”

The bath was filled with white steam. The bitter scent of herb-soaked water wafted through. As Seolyeong exhaled a long breath, the hazy mist cleared.

Through the clearing steam, he saw Sahyeol Amje’s wide back, now covered in serpent-like scales. With his arms resting along the edge of the bath, he slowly turned his head. Wet hair clung darkly against his pale skin. His eyes, painted with the black of night, were the same.

Seolyeong, who had come so confidently, suddenly found himself speechless.

Sahyeol Amje, who quietly tolerated his wife’s silence, finally spoke.

“What’s with your face?”

Then, he let out a sigh.

“Ah, I see.”

It seemed his bride had achieved a radiant breakthrough. The yang energy pouring off him was denser than before, and his eye color had returned to its original state.

Since the illusion had been cast in a half-delirious state, it must have been easy to break. He had intended to cast a stronger spell and change Seolyeong’s eye color again.

“Husband!”

Without even breathing, Seolyeong rushed into the bath and knelt by his side. His warm hands trembled as they cupped the branded cheek.

Seolyeong looked like he was about to cry,

“what happened to you, husband…?”

Even after the physician’s care, much of the Sect Leader’s condition remained unchanged. His qi still hadn’t stabilized, and half his face was still covered in a mark that resembled a yeouiju.

Seolyeong’s heart twisted.

“Tell that imugi to come out. Fuck, I’ll kill it myself. Why, why do you look like this…?”

Tang Yujae gently pushed aside the hand tracing his cheek and pulled him into the bath. Though he tried to resist, Seolyeong soon found himself submerged. Splash! The dark red herbal water surged around them in waves.

Seated awkwardly on his husband’s thigh, Seolyeong gasped as cold lips brushed the brand on the nape of his neck marked with the character ‘협.’(chivalry)

“I went through the trouble of making your eyes normal again, and you just threw it away.”

Seolyeong looked genuinely confused.

“I didn’t get rid of it.”

It was the Sect Leader of the Cheonma Divine Sect himself who had cast that illusion. Seolyeong didn’t know how to undo it, and frankly, whether his eyes were red or brown, he hadn’t cared. At some point, he had come to understand clearly that his eye color didn’t define his life.

“Just look at yourself, Ahyeong.”

But it seemed the Sect Leader wasn’t quite there yet. He looked up at Seolyeong with displeasure.

“How do you expect to be properly remarried like that?”

To have his husband start talking about remarriage the moment they reunited was enough to drive Seolyeong to the brink of exploding.