Camellia 85

“A… a martial artist?” Seolyeong felt resentment rise in his chest.

He dares call me a martial artist after ripping my danjeon to shreds like that? He was quite tempted to start a heated argument, but given the circumstances, he decided to hold back.

“…I understand well that my ‘shallow’ respect may seem useless to you, Sect Leader. However, if I can’t repay the grace of having been raised and protected, could I really still call myself a martial artist?”

His voice was calm, measured. Far more composed and polite than usual. Sahyeol Amje idly tapped his fingers on the armrest, then replied, clearly unimpressed.

“Grace, huh? It doesn’t look like he feels the same. Even now he’s still glaring at you like he wants to bash your skull in.”

He was getting bored of this one-sided reunion. Was Seolyeong’s idea of righteousness nothing more than shoving kindness down someone’s throat when they didn’t want it, then feeling satisfied about it?

If so, how was that any different from hypocrisy? After decades of living with one goal, crushing the righteous world, Tang Yujae could no longer understand how these people thought.

Seolyeong answered gently.

“He’s not glaring because he wants to kill me. He’s overwhelmed with emotion at seeing me again.”

“…Hmm.”

Yujae looked lazily toward the Murong clan head, then muttered like a man admitting defeat.

“…You really benefit from having a foster son.”

Then he gave Seolyeong a time limit.

“One ke.” (15 minutes)

And just like that, he vanished into thin air.

Even Seolyeong, who was used to strange things by now, couldn’t help but feel unsettled. Of course it made sense, his husband wasn’t entirely human inside.

Pushing thoughts of the sect Leader aside, he activated a sturdy Qi barrier and spoke.

“Spare me a moment, Elder.”

He couldn’t stand looking down at the man, so he knelt on one knee before him and asked with utmost courtesy.

“Aren’t you worried about Brother Ahwi?”

“Mmm, mmph!”

“…Ah. So he sealed your tongue.”

Judging from the that groaning came back in reply. Yujae had tied down the old man’s tongue. Of course he had. What a bastard. If he was going to give them time alone, couldn’t he have undone that too?

“Alright. I understand the situation. Don’t strain yourself. I want nothing more than to see you safely returned to the Murong clan. For that to happen, we need to embrace each other like as if we’re good father and son.”

“Mmmph!”

The Murong clan head resisted fiercely. His face flushed red, veins bulging at his neck. Seolyeong watched him with a calm expression.

“There’s no other way to save you, my lord. The only way is to pretend to be my father…”

He was still whispering when the Murong clan head puckered his lips and spat right at his face. Apparently, having a tied tongue didn’t stop him from that.

“…It’s the only way to walk out of here alive.”

Seolyeong wiped his cheek and under his eye without blinking.

It made him wonder, when he spat in Yujae’s face, had the sect Leader seen it the same way? Just petty rebellion? Because that’s exactly how Seolyeong now saw this old man: pitiful and stubborn.

“You just have to pretend. Pretend, that’s all.”

Seolyeong wasn’t ignorant of how humiliating this must’ve been. For someone raised in the righteous sects, to grovel in front of a demonic cultivator was unthinkable.

Even for him, every day he had to endure Sahyeol Amje’s mockery, humiliation, and bile. But he’d endured it all, because there were things he had to protect.

“I came to this wretched Sipman Daesan and became the Sect Leader’s wife only for the sake of the martial world. And for Seolhyeon. I’m not saying this to earn points, but… the one who’ll be treated like a human sacrifice for years to come isn’t you, it’s me. So please. Just put away your pride for a little while. I’m not asking you to do it forever.”

Perhaps it was the word “human” that set him off again. The Murong clan head puckered his lips again, preparing to spit.

Slap!

“…Huh?”

To his horror, Seolyeong’s hand had moved on its own. His palm smacked the Murong clan head’s mouth, then casually flicked his wrist.

Seolyeong panicked and shouted,

“That wasn’t me! I swear!”

“Mmmmph–! Gah!”

The Murong clan head’s tantrum ended the moment it started. The old man’s head jerked to the side as another palm crashed into his cheek like lightning.

“I’m sorry, but this wasn’t me!”

The Murong clan head fell silent, dazed from the double slap. Seolyeong, just as stunned, scanned the room wildly.

No way…He opened his senses to the limit, ignoring the stunned old man and focusing everything on what he felt: a cold, sharp aura creeping in.

“…Sect Leader?”

‘That damned Sect Leader was still watching?’ Seolyeong’s eyes darted across every corner of Akbindang. Gripping his wrist with his other hand, he shouted,

“I never imagined that someone as high as the heavens would break his promise. Didn’t you promise to give time?”

–Didn’t I? I gave you one ke.

“…What?”

Seolyeong was speechless. That voice transmission sounded far too casual.

–I gave you one ke. Now settle things within it.

“Huh?!”

It sounded like he was saying he would continue to watch. Seolyeong was irritated by someone so ruthless and cruel like him acting so childish and petty.

“…Now that the act’s already exposed, what good will there be in setting things? If exposing my little farce made you feel clever, then act like a man and take responsibility for mocking me.”

They could no longer pretend to be father-son.

So Seolyeong pushed harder.

“You proposed the marriage to bring peace. Shouldn’t you release the hostages? You can’t talk about peace with Jungwon if you’re still holding their people.”

Even as he said it, he already knew, this wasn’t going to work.

Desperate, Seolyeong turned to the Murong clan head, who’d taken two blows and seemed half-conscious. His eyes were open, but unfocused. It looked like one of those stories where someone’s awake but their mind’s gone. Seolyeong winced. ‘I’m sorry, Brother Awi. I think I just made things worse for your father.’

Then the sect Leader replied, leisurely as ever.

–Why would I let go of someone who disrespected my wife?

Seolyeong snorted.

“I guess you’ve forgotten…the Sect Leader treated me worse than anyone. No one in this world could compete with the cruelty you showed me. How much did you torment me? Have you forgotten all about it?”

In times like these, Seolyeong couldn’t help but talk about his danjeon.

“Who is the person who tore open my danjeon and left me struggling for my life?”

Tang Yujae simply ignored his bride whe he brought his hardships and the grievances he had endured.

–I healed you.

Seolyeong, who had been rubbing the spot where his danjeon had once been muttered bitterly,

“You healed me ?…That was the Primordial God’s blessing. Because this bride is loved by the Wonsi Cheonjon…”

–That is impossible, Ahyeong. The one who permitted your recovery was me.

Crack. The Qi barrier shattered. Tang Yujae revealed himself.

Seolyeong bit his lip hard. For some reason, he couldn’t even look at his husband – who had reappeared as fast as he vanished– with confidence like before. It was because an unbearable aura was pressing down on his entire being, overwhelming him ferocious force, it was divine. Unbearable. Impossible to challenge.

“You received the Heavenly Heart Ice Pill, the elixir that refines the greatest talents of the Ice Palace, and I didn’t stop it.”

“……”

“I could’ve twisted the flow of energy, sent it back to its true master. But I didn’t.”

Seolyeong’s eyes trembled.

Yujae moved behind him. Reaching up, he plucked Seonwol-do from his ear.

A brilliant light burst from it as it transformed, from a simple earring into a gleaming hairpin.

The Flowing Water Transformation Sword, who had completely lost the will to fight injustice during it time with the Mafu, appeared timid and suppressed. It knew how to behave in the Sect Leader’s presence.

“I was curious,” Yujae said, “what your sword dance would look like if imbued with Qi.”

He gently twisted Seolyeong’s hair and pinned it in place with the hairpin. Then he added:

“The sacred relic I promised. Share your reunion not with that person, but with this.”