Camellia 89

Seolyeong was suffocated by the sect leader’s shameless, sly demeanor and scheming behavior. What kind of martial technique let him appear and disappear like that? The more he thought about it, the more absurd it seemed.

Putting some distance between them, Seolyeong reached out and shoved Yujae hard in the chest. With one eyebrow arched, Yujae scoffed.

“It’s a bit much for a married couple, don’t you think?”

“W-What are you…”

Seolyeong flushed scarlet and stammered, looking completely flustered. A vivid memory had surged back, of that night with Sahyeol Amje, when his limbs were paralyzed by blood fiend venom, and Seolyeong had straddled that unyielding body, pushing himself inside where no one could ever see him falter…

“Your face keeps getting redder, Ahyeong-ah.”

“It’s not–!”

Yujae made eye contact as he said it, and Seolyeong recoiled like he’d been burned. Only after sucking in a few gulps of cold air did the heat in his cheeks begin to fade.

“…What do you think you’re doing, showing up like that?”

His voice was blunt.

Honestly, he still hadn’t gotten over the resentment from the duel at the arena. Even getting Seonwol-do back hadn’t soothed the sting. Not even a thousand years of apology would erase it.

“If you have no reason to see me, I’ll be taking my leave.”

Before he could run, Yujae caught his wrist with a swift grip.

But Seolyeong’s reflexes, honed by blood fiend instincts, were no less quick. You think I’ll let you grab me twice? He twisted his arm and shook the man’s hand off cleanly.

“Uwah!”

He grinned smugly… and then promptly tripped over his own feet.

Yujae, who had just kicked his bride’s ankle and sent him sprawling, folded his hands behind his back and said casually,

“It was a mistake. You were being annoying.”

“…Are you kidding me? The annoying one here is you, not me! Look! You just threw me down and now you’re laughing!”

His outburst only amused Yujae more. The way Seolyeong exploded with emotion every time he got poked, there was something satisfying about it. When he’d first come to the sect, he’d fluttered around like some courtesan, all seductive and sweet. But once that didn’t work, he’d snapped like a wild colt.

“When did I throw you? You tripped over your own feet.”

Seolyeong gave him the longest, most exhausted glare imaginable. He muttered under his breath,

“I’m being persecuted here, persecuted there… Everyone in this damned world just wants to make my life harder. Where the hell am I supposed to go?”

Sighing like the ground might swallow him up, he brushed the snow off his knees with his bare hands. His ankle throbbed. He had kicked him hard. He clenched his teeth and tried to stand, bracing against the pain.

That’s when the Madu reached out a hand. Like he expected Seolyeong to lean on him.

“…No, thanks.”

Seolyeong turned it down. He’d rather lie in the snow forever than grab that bastard’s hand.

Yujae, clearly itching to mess with him, asked,

“Did you learn this stubborn pride from the Murong clan too?”

“……”

“Is that how a righteous man’s supposed to act? Full of pompous airs and attitude?”

“…Hah.”

Seolyeong glared at him sideways. He’d tried ignoring the bastard, but Sahyeol Amje’s presence was too overpowering.

“Are you saying this because you want me cry again?”

He asked, suspicious. After all, Sahyeol Amje had once yanked on his hair until he sobbed, telling him to cry harder. It was entirely possible this was another one of those juvenile schemes.

Pretending to be some refined gentleman, the sect leader tucked a strand of Seolyeong’s hair behind his ear.

“Hmm. If I wanted to, wouldn’t I have just taken you in front of your dear foster father?”

Seolyeong felt a chill down his spine.

He’d spoken such filth with such ease, like it was nothing. But the man looked perfectly composed.

“But right now, I don’t want to see my wife cry. Not unless we’re in bed.”

That crossed the line. Seolyeong’s last bit of patience snapped, and he forced out a plea.

“Please… stop testing me, my lord.”

His red eyes welled up. He didn’t understand the feeling. It was unfamiliar, jumbled, hard to bear.

“I don’t want to hate you any more than I already do. I don’t want to waste my heart resenting people.”

He’d always believed hating others was the biggest waste of time there was. After all, people had always hurled cruel words at him, treated him like filth. If he started hating every single one of them, that anger would have no end.

But somewhere along the way, he’d lost that resolve. Sahyeol Amje had pushed him too far, too often, until Seolyeong hated him so much it startled even himself.

Am I really this weak?

The thought gnawed at him.

Yujae gently gathered Seolyeong’s hair in one hand.

“How much do you hate your husband, Ahyeong-ah?”

His voice was low.

The fingers playing with his hair trailed down, grazing the back of Seolyeong’s neck.

Feeling the rapid thump of that delicate pulse, Yujae coaxed the wind to stir once more. A flurry of snow whirled up around them, cloaking the world in white.

“And how much pain has that hatred caused you?”

A sturdy wall of snow rose around them. Seolyeong expected bitter cold, but inside, it was surprisingly warm. His eyes widened slightly.

“It’s fine to be honest. It’s just us here.”

Had he always seduced women this way? If Seolyeong didn’t know his true nature, he might have fallen for it. If he’d been a woman, that is.

But Seolyeong wasn’t. He was a man, through and through. And his reply came sharp and dry.

“…Two points out of five. The lines weren’t bad, but next time, make sure you target a woman who suits the sect leader. It seems like it’d be more effective on a woman than a man.”

With that, he glanced around the snow-dome. The way those flakes had packed together so densely, it looked practically unbreakable.

‘Would it hold if I punched it?’ Just as he was wondering about it.

“What if I turned you into a woman?”

Seolyeong blinked. At first, he didn’t even register what that meant. He thought he misheard. ‘Turn me into what?’ The sect leader muttered to himself.

“…I hadn’t planned on children…”

“…Pardon?”

“If your body were female, maybe the hatred would fade.”

“…My lord?”

“If we were bound by blood, as parents… maybe you’d calm down a little.”

“…..?”

“There’s a saying that having a child makes you grow up.”

What the hell is this lunatic saying…? Seolyeong nearly scrunched his entire face in disbelief.

‘You’re not… saying that because I told you to try those lines on a woman, are you? Because, uh… turning a man into a woman isn’t exactly realistic, and..?’

‘A god is called a god because he’s omnipotent. Wouldn’t there be a secret technique that could turn a grumpy husband-hating man into a woman?’

What the hell, this bastard’s actually serious. Seolyeong felt like screaming. But instead, he exhaled shakily and managed a protest.

“…With all due respect, my lord… I don’t hate you because I’m a man. I hate you because of all the terrible things you’ve done. And even if my body turned female, that wouldn’t undo any of that. So please… wake up from this dream, Or I might just kill myself.”