Camellia 72

What in the world did that man believe in to act so boldly? He didn’t have any powerful backer behind him, nor an intact danjeon that let him command outstanding Qi.

All he had going for him was a decent-looking face and body… and yet he constantly failed to grasp his own position. That was what baffled Tang Yujae most.

He strode straight toward the bride.

Seolyeong, who had just poured himself another drink, unable to wait even a moment, suddenly felt a strong grip close around his hand.

“…Huh?”

A hand streaked with raised, menacing veins entered his view. Its surface gave off a sharp yin energy that seemed to pierce right through bone. It was his husband.

“I told you to sword dance, Ahyeong.”

The low, calm voice continued.

Yujae peeled Seolyeong’s fingers away from the bottle one by one and brought the full cup of honey-colored liquor to his lips. Gulp. His throat bobbed as he downed it all in one go.

He didn’t even bother wiping his damp lips before continuing.

“If you want to drink, ask your husband. Don’t go just anywhere.”

The Sect Leader wore a gentle expression, biting down on his molars as if scolding a newlywed who had gone drinking with strangers. At the same time, he looked like a man too jealous to hide it. The moment that embarrassingly sweet line left his lips, the Pavilion Lords began to stir. Could it be their lord had actually fallen for the Mad Bride?

Among them, Yang Seogyeong even broke the utensil he was holding.

Tang Yujae made sure to drive the point in again, just in case his idiot bride had embarrassed himself in front of the Pavilion Lords while he was gone.

“I want my bride to look disheveled only in front of his husband.”

His tone was soft enough to melt anyone who heard it. Then he hoisted Seolyeong upright.

Peng Rang’s eyes shot toward the arm wrapped tight around the bride’s waist. Yujae pressed their bodies closer on purpose. Seolyeong couldn’t utter a word, his tongue still bound by inner energy.

“We’re still newlyweds. I trust the North Sea’s generosity will understand.”

Yujae looked at Rang with unreadable calm. No hint of emotion surfaced, no matter how closely one searched his face.

‘I loved you like you were everything to me… I endured that brutal training just to stand beside you.’

But now, seeing the way he treated her, Rang’s heart shattered. To him, she was nothing more than one of many fleeting connections.

The warrior who had clung to her feelings through several winters of brutal cold pressed down on her aching chest and spoke.

“…It’s been a while, Sect Leader.”

But Tang Yujae didn’t even glance at her. Instead, he turned to Peng Seonyu and spoke with sharp command.

“Keep a closer watch on your cousin, Seonyu.”

Back when they fled to Sipman Daesan to escape a political marriage, Rang and Seonyu had taken very different paths. Both had spent a night with the Sect Leader as extreme yang bodies, but Seonyu had buried her feelings deep, while Rang had been desperate to show hers.

It was largely Rang’s behavior that got them expelled from the Cheonma Singyo Sect. Constantly challenging Yujae to sparring matches, even risking death, she gave him no choice but to issue an expulsion order. The Pavilion Lords, who had long been waiting for an excuse, readily agreed.

“How do you expect to serve your husband when you’re this drunk?”

Yujae pressed on Seolyeong’s pressure points to loosen his limbs, then began dragging him off like a sack of goods. When he slipped an arm beneath Seolyeong’s knees and lifted him up, Seolyeong was mortified.

‘What are you doing in front of all these people, you bastard?! It looks like I lost a drinking contest or something!’

He wanted to yell at him to put him down, but his tongue still wouldn’t move. Like it had a weight of iron tied to it, it stayed limp. The new bride could only let himself be carried off, quietly tucked in the arms of his husband.

Thud! Tang Yujae tossed Seolyeong onto the bedding and let out a long breath. One filled with a thousand layers of meaning.

“Are you that desperate to die?”

Mmgh, ngh… Still unable to move his body or tongue properly, Seolyeong could only groan in protest. Yujae sat beside him and continued.

“If you’re going to talk shit about your husband, you should’ve at least done it where fewer people could hear. Our Pavilion Lords aren’t like Si Pungjae or Yeoso. They won’t let that insolent mouth of yours slide. They’d cut it clean off without a second thought.”

The fact that he even had to spell this out, Yujae once again felt he’d chosen the wrong bride.

“Mmmf, mmmph!”

Seolyeong’s face turned red, then pale, then flushed again. Yujae snorted.

“What’s got you making that face? What’s so unfair?”

But even so, his hands were gentle as he released Seolyeong’s Qi. Though his limbs still felt like stone, Seolyeong’s tongue was finally freed, and he snapped back at once.

“When did I ever speak ill of you, husband? I was merely deep in conversation, giving my dear Sister Rang some heartfelt advice. She told me she’d fallen madly in love with a man who was terribly cold and inconsiderate. I was simply trying to find out who he was when you suddenly appeared, snatched my drink, and interrupted me.”

It was a complete lie. Peng Rang had already confessed that she loved the Sect Leader. Seolyeong knew full well that everything she said while drunk had been about him.

But he feigned innocence, eyes wide with mock surprise.

“Could it be… Sister Rang’s desperate unrequited love was you, husband?”

“……”

“Now that I think about it, it is suspicious. You once told me you got tired of extreme yang women begging for your love and killed them all before taking me in. But if those very women are the Peng sisters, why are they still alive and well? Why lie to me about that? Should I try guessing?”

“That’s enough.”

“…Can I try just once?”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Just once?”

Yujae narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t understand why this cunning little fox of a bride didn’t feel hateful to him. A madman like this should’ve been killed long ago, why was he still alive?

He suddenly grabbed Seolyeong’s hair and yanked hard.

“Agh!”

“Go on then. If it’s so important, try it.”

“Ow, ow, it hurts! That hurts, Sect Leader!”

“You wanted to guess. Didn’t you?”

He wasn’t bluffing. The pain shot through Seolyeong’s scalp like fire. No matter how he begged, the grip didn’t loosen. So he burst out,

“You’re hiding your old lovers, aren’t you!”

Only then did Yujae’s hand freeze.

Seolyeong looked up at him, eyes brimming.

“You told me they were all dead so I wouldn’t try to find them, didn’t you? You didn’t want me getting jealous or hurting them.”

“…What right do you have to be jealous of them?”

“Haven’t you heard the saying, even a worm will squirm when stepped on? If someone threatens my place at your side, I might just hate them.”

Yujae gave a hollow laugh at that bold reply. Seolyeong kept digging in, voice full of mockery.

“Or maybe… are you pretending to be though like a teenager going through puberty? Do you want to appear like some terrifying maniac who kills his lovers when things go sour?”

The bride, bold to the point of insanity, didn’t shut up for even a second. Yujae had always hated talkative people. He released Seolyeong’s hair with a mutter.

“You’re completely out of your mind, Ahyeong. No normal man could ever live with someone like you.”

Then, as if exhausted, he collapsed onto the bedding and burrowed straight into Seolyeong’s arms. With a man of nearly equal build suddenly clinging to him, Seolyeong panicked.

“H-husband?”

“Cold.”

The chill from his body seeped into Seolyeong’s skin.

“I’m cold… so shut up, will you?”

It seemed the presence of so many Ice Palace warriors had stirred up the yin energy sealed inside him.

Seolyeong looked down, stunned, as Yujae pressed his lips against his collarbone. Was he… about to ask for sex?

But the Sect Leader didn’t cling any further. All he wanted was warmth.

Watching his husband’s closed eyes and slow breaths, Seolyeong felt something strange.

‘He looks like someone I know…’

The face hovered in his mind, almost forming, then dissolved into nothing. That left only a suffocating frustration behind, as if something deeply important was just out of reach.