Camellia 91

A chilling silence filled the air. The cave’s characteristically cold air brushed slowly across his skin.

…Tang clan.

Those two words sliced through Tang Yujae’s thoughts. He had revived the Cheonma Divine Sect and risen to the top, but the surname Tang now meant nothing more than something that barred him from ever fostering any new ambitions.

At some point, Yujae had stopped feeling real anger even when dredging up the moment his clan had been torn apart. The world had changed too fast. Memory faded by nature, and emotions dulled with time.

That was why Tang Yujae’s anger had also lost its direction. It was the real reason he hadn’t easily answered the Daeyeonggak Lord’s repeated calls to invade Jungwon.

“Are you curious about your husband’s hometown?”

Tang Yujae asked, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. Seolyeong was tense, and sweating as he answered late.

“…Yes, Sect Leader. I’ve always been curious about your past.”

“How much?”

“Well…”

The pressure was suffocating, as if he were standing in the center of a battlefield. It must’ve been the Sect Leader’s overwhelming aura leaking through.

“Hum” Tang Yujae let out a low hum and strode toward him. The candles lighting the cave snuffed out all at once, plunging everything into darkness.

He leaned in and whispered by his bride’s ear.

“I’ve set the mood, thinking you’d be embarrassed. Now try convincing me with your body.”

Seolyeong wanted nothing more than to shove away the cold hand cupping his cheek. But it felt like he was bound in chains, his body wouldn’t budge.

“Come on. If you want me to satisfy your curiosity, you’ll have to offer something in return.”

‘If this continues, I’ll be devoured by the Samasa’, Seolyeong opened his mouth and croaked out,

“Why… why are you doing this perverted nonsense? I asked out of simple, genuine curiosity… Ngh!”

“I know.”

Cold lips slowly grazed his ear. The sensation made Seolyeong’s hair stand on end. He squeezed his eyes shut, his face ghost-pale. As Sahyeol Amje bit down on the ridge of his ear, then sucked at the soft lobe, he murmured,

“I haven’t quite earned the title of doting husband just yet.”

Seolyeong summed up his perilous situation in a single thought.

The sect leader bastard’s lost his mind and is now trying to flirt with me.

No, even calling this flirtation was too generous. The Sect Leader was toying with him, defiling him, trying to crush him. Maybe he was going to force him to suck his blood once again.

“Look at me.”

As Seolyeong’s eyes shifted downward, Yujae predictably grabbed his chin and tilted it up.

“You can’t avoid my gaze even for a moment. If you want your husband’s love, you should’ve learned how to look your prettiest.”

Scolded like a petulant child, Seolyeong answered back.

“…What if I don’t want your love?”

If he were being honest, he wasn’t even sure what Sahyeol Amje meant by “love.” On the surface, it sounded like the same thing anyone might say, but underneath, he was sure it meant something far darker. Something like: “You’re so cute I’ll play with you, then kill you.”

“Mm? The more you refuse my affection, the more tempting you become…”

The Sect Leader brushed his thumb under Seolyeong’s chin, voice feigning thoughtfulness.

“Are you deliberately trying to drive me crazy?”

That hand, which had been stroking his cheek, slid lower and pressed against the ugly brand on his neck.

The mark, a stain of shame among righteous sects who revered honor was crushed hard under his fingers.

“Ugh…!”

The moment he bit down on his lower lip, Saheyol Amje exhaled a low breath, as if overtaken by some animal urge. His lips lowered slowly, like a starving beast.

Seolyeong, convinced that he wouldn’t escape being defiled, braced himself and lifted his chin in defiance.

But unexpectedly, Yujae stopped.

“…Go back to Yeohwa Hall.”

As much as he would have enjoyed pinning his corpse-faced bride down and spreading his legs in front of the righteous elders, Sahyeol Amje decided to show mercy. For now.

Seolyeong’s panicked as he realized something was pressing against his groin ‘Shit! That’s…?’

“If you stay any longer, I might really do something terrible.”

“Y-yes…! I’ll go! I’ll go right away!”

Seolyeong, wide-eyed and shaken, scrambled backward. But before he could leave entirely, he hesitated.

He couldn’t just abandon the hostages in the sect’s hands.

“…Sect Leader. May I ask one favor first?”

Even in pitch-black darkness, the blood fiend’s red eyes shimmered like always. As his husband nodded, Seolyeong dropped to his knees and bowed low.

“Please… release the hostages. Send them back where they belong.”

Yujae let out a soft laugh. It was exactly what he expected.

“…Fine. For your sake, I’ll make sure those pitiful things get sent back to the martial world.”

Just as Seolyeong was about to offer a polite thank you, a voice rang directly in his skull.

–If you want to call me Tang Yujae, go ahead.

As the bride turned toward him, Sahyeol Amje finally spoke aloud.

“Sukyeong Sacheon. That’s where I was born and raised.”

“……”

“And now you’ll carry that secret with you for the rest of your life. Do you understand, Ahyeong?”

***

The day of the Hanhoe delegation’s departure from Sipman Daesan was fast approaching.

Rumors spread like wildfire that a young man chosen as a breeding slave had exchanged a tearful farewell with the Lord of Jipilgak. But, of course, Seolyeong hadn’t heard a word about it. He had his hands full dealing with the awful men in both Gwanju Hall and Yeohwa Hall.

In Gwanju Hall, it was Sahyeol Amje making his life hell. In Yeohwa Hall, it was the Murong clan head.

“Ha… what kind of miserable life is this…”

Sprawled out in the rear garden, Seolyeong was trying to cool his overheated head when a shadow fell over his face. He tensed, thinking it might be Sahyeol Amje again, but soon looked up with a hint of surprise.

“…Pungjae’s little brother?”

Standing there was Si Pungwoon, Si Pungjae’s younger brother, whom he hadn’t seen since the day he first arrived at Sipman Daesan. Unlike his brother, who always kept his hair neatly tied, Pungwoon let his short hair fall freely. His face still had a boyish innocence, but the voice that came out of his mouth was obnoxiously smug.

“Si Pungwoon of Geukmungak. I’ve just been reassigned. Starting today, I’ll be wasting all my time following you around day and night. One of the Peng family’s warriors would like to formally apologize to you, so please decide whether to accept while I yawn. Haaahhh…”

“………”

“Well? What’s your answer?”

Pungwoon had clearly inherited none of his older brother’s mild temperament. Raised in Geukmungak, an unorthodox, irreverent pavilion with little hierarchy, he had a habit of doing whatever he pleased first and thinking later.

“You’ve gone mute, Gyo-mo?”

Whenever he had visited Yurigung to deliver letters from Geukmungak’s lord, Pungwoon had watched his brother grovel to Seolyeong, which only deepened his disdain. He had resolved never to act like that himself.

“…You brat. Where’s Pungjae?”

Seolyeong asked, flustered. Pungwoon replied lazily.

“Who knows. He might be dead.”

“What?”

“Why the shocked face? You’re the one who got him killed.”

The sneer on his lips sharpened as he continued.

“My brother lost his position for failing to serve you properly. If he couldn’t prove his worth, then per sect law, he probably became an execution target. So thank you, truly, for letting me lose the only family I had left.”