Camellia 161

Just as much as I have.

The voice he had been yearning to hear came just as he was about to make a wish to the Wonsi Cheonjon.

“I was cruel to you?”

It felt like his heart had dropped. Seolyeong quickly turned his head toward the source of the voice. That man was sitting on a tree branch. The man who had stolen his heart and showed no intention of taking responsibility, only running away. Regrettably, the peach tree bursting with pink blossoms did not suit him at all. A tree like that would look far better if Seolyeong were the one sitting on it.

Seolyeong slowly stretched out his arms and, with a trembling expression, spoke.

“There’s no room for your bride up there, my husband. Please come down.”

Seeing his bride’s face like that made Tang Yujae feel anything but at ease.

I wasn’t cruel to you, I was merciful. If I truly wanted to be a cruel man, instead of supporting your life, I would have been desperate to drag you with me down the path of death.

Maybe it was because he had once comforted him, saying he looked beautiful when he cried. Now, his bride cried whenever he got the chance. Tang Yujae couldn’t help but find him pitiful.

“Looking at you again, I think you look prettier when you smile.”

“……”

“I meant stop crying. Quiet.”

The tears streaming down felt like a waste now. Especially after hearing Seolyeong say he will kill himself, Tang Yujae had no idea how he should treat his wife.

He had put in so much effort just to see him live proudly, and yet he was spouting nonsense about taking his own life. How could his heart not feel suffocated?

“Please come down and hold me.”

Whether he would or not, Seolyeong pleaded sincerely. The emotion staining his reddened eyes was not just longing for the one he loved.

He revealed the resentment and hatred he had always hidden, as he looked up at his husband with trembling eyes. That expression left quite a satisfying impression on Tang Yujae. At the very least, it looked like he would no longer try to suppress those negative feelings. This could be considered great progress.

“Don’t tell me you’re crying because of me?”

He asked lightly, as if tossing out a joke, and Seolyeong snapped back sharply.

“Then who else would I be crying for? Those fanatics following you around all day?”

He was already bitter from Yang Seogyeong. He had been planning to ask, while he was at it, why that insolent brat had been brought to Haeseong Pavilion in his place.

The sect leader called Seolyeong’s childhood name with a smile.

“Ahyeong.”

It was a call he could never refuse. Whenever that expressionless man smiled with his eyes crinkling like that, Seolyeong’s chest would always fill with emotion.

He answered quietly and listened. Then the sect leader lightly leapt down from the tree. One step, two steps, three steps. As the distance between them closed, Seolyeong’s cheeks began to flush. Tang Yujae, gazing blankly at the lovely color blooming on his tear-streaked skin, stopped walking.

“I’ll cast an illusion on you.”

And then he said something completely different from what Seolyeong had expected. Again, as always, it was about illusions. He had heard it so many times his ears had calluses, and he could predict the next lines before they came. Something about changing the color of his eyes forever, probably.

“An illusion that will change your eye color permanently. No one will dare suspect your eyes are blood-red. And then you…”

As expected. Caught between sorrow and irritation, Seolyeong urgently pulled his face down and kissed him.

He already knew that Sahyeol Amje’s illusions were worthy of being called supernatural. But how many times had he said he didn’t want this help? If receiving new eyes meant losing Tang Yujae, he would rather remain a monstrous blood fiend forever.

His ruby-like eyes turned a deep crimson. A classic symptom whenever a blood fiend thirsted for blood. Tang Yujae, without a hint of discomfort, cradled the back of his head. Seolyeong growled like a beast and bit into his husband’s neck. Two deep punctures opened, and fragrant blood poured out.

“Ah, my husband…”

Just as he sank his fangs in with all his strength, Seolyeong’s hair was suddenly grabbed. Tang Yujae twisted the fistful of hair back with resolve.

“Ugh… Sect Leader! You’re going to rip my scalp off! Aaah!”

His slender nape bent back, veins standing out. Seolyeong suddenly felt like crying like a child again, but the words that followed made his eyes shoot up.

“The illusions I use are nothing like reversed techniques. I can let you live as a normal person.”

Like he didn’t know that already. Of course he knew this man was incredible. Seolyeong groaned, sorting through the thoughts swirling in his head, trying to choose the right words. How could he hit this man where it would finally shake some sense into him? But the sect leader didn’t give him time to think.

“So before you love me any more, leave Yeonhu, Ahyeong.”

Frowning as if he didn’t want to hear another word, Seolyeong threw his arms around his husband’s back. He had already started loving him, so how was he supposed to quell feelings that surged so violently? It was an impossible demand, so he said nothing and simply clung to me.

“Your husband will die before the month is over.”

Tang Yujae whispered in a voice weighed with a sigh.

“And when I die…”

His cold hand trailed down Seolyeong’s neck and supported his waist.

“My followers will try to bury you with me.”

Especially the Lord of Jongryegak, who would draw a spiritstone sword and turn the grand hall into chaos.

But Seolyeong showed no sign of understanding his concern. He nodded firmly and swore.

“I’ll live just to see that day.”

“…Hah.”

Faced with such an impenetrable attitude, Tang Yujae let out a hollow laugh. His 280th attempt to drive his bride out of Yeonhu had failed yet again. He couldn’t think of a single new excuse. It felt like he had used up every method he could. At this rate, maybe he really would end up crossing the Samdo River with his wife by his side.

Just then, as if it had been waiting, the imugi spoke in a low voice.

–The night is getting shorter. The Heavenly Gate will open soon.

Only the heavens know the will of the heavens. When the heavens command, a mere being has no choice but to follow the flow. That is what humans call fate.

The imugi adviced in a languid tone.

–If you can’t break that child’s stubbornness, then kill him yourself.

“……”

–Wouldn’t that be better than letting someone else kill him? Even if the lowly blood fiend follows you and chooses to leave this life on his own, in the end, it’s still someone else who will strike the blow, not you.

The former Cheonma was the same. The imugi always regretted not killing the man himself when he fell into qi deviation and died. He should have snapped his pulsing neck and absorbed his essence before it faded. Then they could have stayed together for a lifetime.

Perhaps the divine beast’s regret moved the mountains and rivers, for the clouds quietly shifted. Warm sunlight lost its way in the fierce snowstorm.

But no matter how harshly the wind pushed and clawed at him, Seolyeong did not let go of Sahyeol Amje. He held him tighter through the frostbite-like cold, and when the wind conjured by the divine beast died down, he pleaded.

“If you’re going to die, then die with me. If you don’t want to see me die, then gather your courage and fight the damn snake. I’ll tell you this, my husband, you’re not a snake, you’re a damn grub born in the wrong era. And the imugi, fuck, its spawn is the real snake.”

If you had grown up the way you were as a child, you would have been a peerless flower-wielding gentleman. Or maybe the good-for-nothing young master of a prestigious clan, drowned in wine. The you I met in the past was a boy who secretly brought sweets and candied fruit to make his sisters happy, who climbed trees to play the grass flute whenever he had a spare moment.

“You’re listening to me, aren’t you, my husband?”

Seolyeong, completely unaware of what was soon to come, rubbed his face against Sahyeol Amje’s nape. His damp eyes warmed the pale skin. He held on stubbornly, trying to soak the man he loved in his own warmth, hoping to express a heart that would never change.