Camellia 70

Seolyeong really wanted to cry.

The sect leader’s blood-smeared fingers stood out more than anything else in his field of vision. He knew all too well the sensual feeling they gave as they scraped down his throat. That was the problem. He had to stop this, no matter what.

“If I end up falling in love with you, what then!”

That excuse, thrown out like a lightning strike, was the best he could come up with. As the sect leader froze in place, Seolyeong scrambled to keep going.

“They say all the yang-bodies who’ve tasted your yin energy ended up falling for you. If you keep feeding me your blood, I might end up head over heels too. Do you mind?”

It struck him as a pretty convincing argument. He held his ground, locking eyes with the sect leader, unafraid.

The sect leader had once confessed that he killed every yang-body who dared to ask for his love. There was only one reason. They annoyed him.

Trying to drive the nail in, Seolyeong added something that probably would have been better left unsaid.

“I’ve just as much grit as any of those Peng men. The second I fall in love, I’ll turn into the most patient, clingy lover in the world and completely ruin your life.”

The sect leader’s expression twisted. He looked almost troubled, and Seolyeong cheered internally. The threat had worked.

Freed just enough from the fear gripping his body, Seolyeong threw out a final warning.

“It’s your choice, but I’m telling you now. My love runs hot like a spring and unmoving like a mountain. So you’d better think very carefully before you act. The only way to make it stop will be to cut off my head.”

Anyone else would’ve thought it a ridiculous threat, but Seolyeong had never been more serious. He stood there, trembling, waiting for a reply.

The cult leader, having staunched the blood dripping from his neck, asked with a frown.

“Peng men?”

“Yeah. The yang-bodies you slept with. From the Habuk Peng clan, right?”

While other clans occasionally produced yang-bodies, it was rare. Extremely rare.

The sect leader tilted his head, then asked bluntly.

“You thought your husband was into men?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You sure rolled around with me enough. Seolyeong had taken it for granted that the sect leader had slept with male yang-bodies. But as the silence stretched, shock hit him like a slap.

“Wait. You slept with women… and then killed them because they were clingy?”

The Habuk Peng clan did have a small number of female yang-bodies. But they were so rare it bordered on impossible. And even if one was born, she’d be locked away. Those who ended up marrying male yin-bodies were often treated like dirt for damaging a man’s pride.

It was a far cry from the male yang-bodies who lived like kings, controlling the life and death of their wives. Yang-bodies needed yin just the same, but the gap between men and women remained brutally wide. Whether yin or yang, women were always the ones cast aside.

Anyway, Seolyeong muttered as if he couldn’t believe it.

“They said you were like an immortal to women…”

His eyes lit with rage.

“You piece of trash. Are you even human, or just an evil spirit (akgwi) in a man’s skin?”

He hadn’t meant to spit it out so harshly, but it slipped. He had always hated men who treated women like trash. Ever since he was young, he’d seen far too many try to drag his little sister around like a prostitute from the red-light district.

The sect leader raised one brow.

“Isn’t ‘demon’ (magwi) what people call you?”

“That’s ‘magwi,’ not ‘akgwi’!”

“Same difference.”

With a lazy smile, he released the invisible force pinning Seolyeong’s limbs.

Maybe because the grip had been so strong, Seolyeong collapsed as soon as it let go. It felt like all his strength had been drained in an instant. His body slumped, his tongue felt heavy.

“Who I kill and who I save isn’t something someone like you gets to shout about.”

As he passed his bride, the sect leader added,

“Loud wives get on my nerves. Learn to keep quiet.”

It took Seolyeong a few days to understand why the sect leader had chosen to walk away instead of keeping up the fight.

The moment the Hanhoe delegation sent from the North Sea Ice Palace crossed the wide straits and arrived at Yurigung.

A record-breaking snowfall transformed Mount Yeonhu into a pristine field of white.

The delegation passed through the palace gates and headed straight for the banquet hall.

Hyeonhyeondang, built for hosting large-scale banquets, easily accommodated the delegation, which had to number well over fifty at a glance. Including the guards accompanying the Eight Pavilion Lords, there were over two hundred people gathered in the hall.

Naturally, the two seated in the highest place of honor were the sect leader and his bride.

The head of the delegation stopped at the base of the steps leading to the head table and bowed with a formal salute.

“Bing Biyu of the North Sea greets the new sky of the Cheonma Divine Sect.”

The warriors lined up behind her followed suit in unison.

“We pay our respects to the new sky of the Cheonma Divine Sect!”

The warriors, dressed in silver belts embroidered with blue cloud patterns, radiated pure winter. The air in the already chilly banquet hall grew even colder the moment they entered.

Stuck sitting beside the trash of a sect leader, Seolyeong was already in a foul mood. He glanced sideways, sensing something strange.

Between the warriors with white hair tied back, two clearly martial women stood out. Their eyes burned with heat and locked directly onto the sect leader’s face.

“You’ve come a long way. I’m honored to finally meet the warriors of the Great Snowfields.”

The sect leader rose at his leisure and suddenly extended an arm toward Seolyeong, as if offering it to help him up. Caught off guard, Seolyeong hesitated. Was he worried about appearances in front of external forces?

“Ahyeong.”

The sect leader gave him a gentle smile and motioned with his eyes. Still confused, Seolyeong took the arm and stood. A chill ran down his spine as he looked below.

Two of the women from earlier were glaring at him with open hostility.

“Easy. Walk slowly. You wouldn’t want to trip.”

For once, the sect leader spoke with excessive kindness. His voice was low but not quiet, just loud enough that any warrior with decent senses would hear. No, it sounded more like he wanted everyone to hear.

Seolyeong gave him a look like he’d choked on breakfast. The sect leader, acting all affectionate, brushed back a lock of Seolyeong’s hair with a smile. Seolyeong nearly bit his tongue.

‘What the hell is wrong with him?’

As they reached the base of the stairs to face the delegation, Bing Biyu stepped forward and offered her congratulations.

“We heard the good news even before we arrived. Congratulations on your marriage, Sect Leader.”

Though she acted as the delegation’s head, the real pressure came from the two warriors behind her. They’d been glaring at Seolyeong nonstop from the start.

Even though the marriage ceremony hadn’t taken place yet, the sect leader shamelessly introduced him.

“Please greet my beloved bride. I’ve been excited to show him off.”

“As the rumors say, you’ve taken someone dazzlingly beautiful as your partner.”

“As expected, right?”

With the sect leader’s arm coiled around his waist like a snake, Seolyeong felt his sanity slipping. The man was acting like some lovesick fool, as if he weren’t even from this world.

And somehow, it felt like the sleazy bastard was planning to run away after tossing him into the lion’s den.

“I’ll have a brief meeting with the head of the Hanhoe delegation. Meanwhile, you should chat with our faithful allies from the Ice Palace. Since it’s been so long since our last banquet, why not entertain them with a sword dance? I’m sure you picked up some of that fluff at Murong, didn’t you?”

He whispered it low in Seolyeong’s ear, then unwrapped his arm and gave him a firm shove from behind.

Staggering from the sudden push, Seolyeong turned in shock, but it was too late.

The sect leader disappeared with Bing Biyu, leaving him alone. Swallowing dryly, Seolyeong faced forward.

“Peng Seonyu of the North Sea greets the Gyo-mo¹ of the Cheonma Divine Sect.”

“Peng Rang of the North Sea greets the Gyo-mo of the Cheonma Divine Sect.”

Two black-haired women, standing like twin blades at the front of the formation, offered formal greetings.

Seolyeong’s vision spun. He looked between them, dizzy.

The intense heat rolling off them hit like a blast. That thick, dense Qi could only come from one thing, yang-bodies.

Unless the world flipped over ninety-nine times, there was no mistaking it.

Barely holding his expression together, Seolyeong asked with a flustered look.

“I, Is that the Peng clan I know?”

1. Mother of the sect ↩︎