Epilogue: Side Story

 

Epilogue

“Wait a moment. Are you joking right now?”

Munpyeong pressed a hand to his throbbing forehead and asked again, his voice strained. The migraine that had been quiet for some time was flaring up again. The inside of his right temple ached and pulsed as if a gimlet were boring into his skull.

Noticing Munpyeong’s pale face, Ranran cautiously took back the booklet. But the guileless Cho Gyo-yeon clapped her hands, welcoming this new development.

“Oh, my heavens. That is so romantic, Lord Consort! I never knew our Master had this side to him.”

`Do you think you’re the only one who didn’t know, my lady? I had no idea either`, Munpyeong thought, feeling like he wanted to cry. In his view, this wasn’t romantic at all; it was a scheme to tease him. It was obvious that Cheonma, whose mischief reached the very heavens, was doing this purely to torment him.

“When I first heard that the new Grand Supreme Lord’s residence would be named Biikjeon, the Hall of Paired Wings, I thought it was a fine name. But then to name the new pond Bimokji, the Pond of Paired Eyes, and to even design the garden next to it with yeonriji, the Intertwined Branches? Where else in the world could you find such a profound expression of love? You are so lucky, Lord Consort. I wish my Second Brother would love me so fiercely just once.”

Cho Gyo-yeon, who possessed a surprisingly girlish sensibility, gazed at Munpyeong with eyes full of envy. If it were mere torment, Munpyeong could at least get angry, but the young lady was purely and single-mindedly envious of him.

Munpyeong had no idea how to respond to this uniquely sensitive woman. She was a smart and clever lady, far from naive, so why her focus went so astray on matters like this was a mystery.

“The Grand Supreme Lord must be joking. Surely he wouldn’t actually give them such names?”

Although he knew Cheonma was more than capable of such a thing, Munpyeong tried his best to ignore the truth. He tried to dismiss it all as a prank, hoping to gain at least a moment of peace.

But Ranran did not allow him even that brief escape from reality. In a deeply apologetic and cautious tone, she shattered Munpyeong’s desperate denial.

“Um, my deepest apologies for saying this, Lord Consort… but I heard the plaque for the Hall of Paired Wings is already being carved by a craftsman. And they are digging the pond as well. I believe the ground has already been leveled.”

At those words, Munpyeong let out a low groan and buried his face in his hands. In contrast, Cho Gyo-yeon clapped her hands once more, overjoyed. Her beautiful face began to glow as if powdered with pearl dust—a beauty of moon and flower incarnate.

“I knew it! Our Master is a man who always sees through what he starts. How on earth did you do it, Lord Consort? How did you so completely captivate a man as cool-headed as our Master? Please, you must teach me your secret. I have to get married eventually, you know. At this rate, I’ll die an old maid!”

She leaned over the table, whispering earnestly to Munpyeong. He felt his already severe migraine intensify and managed a weak, crooked smile.

“There isn’t really any secret method. Things just… truly just happened that way, my lady. I sincerely mean it when I say I never acted with this result in mind.”

“Oh, my. Please, speak comfortably. As our Master’s partner, you are like a Master’s wife to me. It makes me uncomfortable when you use such formal speech.”

She acknowledged the relationship between Cheonma and Munpyeong with a shamelessness that made him blush. Her words made his heart sink. Being treated as Cheonma’s spouse was one thing, but being treated as a superior by the Four Disciples of the Demon simply because he was involved with him was far too much of a burden for his timid soul.

“No, but still… Our relationship isn’t like that, my lady. I am not your master, and the Grand Supreme Lord also said to act as you’re comfortable…”

“Of course, he would tell you to do as you please. But think of it from a subordinate’s perspective. If you insist on addressing me with such honorifics, do you think our Master would let me be?”

Of course, he wouldn’t let her be. Having experienced it himself more than a few times, Munpyeong couldn’t bring himself to lie in response to her question.

Perhaps because he had lived his entire life as the absolute ruler of the Demonic Cult, Cheonma was extremely sensitive to hierarchy. No, to be honest, he was abnormally obsessed with the hierarchy as it pertained to Munpyeong. He seemed not to care how he himself was treated, but if anyone so much as treated Munpyeong improperly, he would never let them off the hook.

At first, a few people had made unwitting mistakes, but after they all fell victim to Cheonma’s long-held grudges, no one dared to cross Munpyeong. These days, just as Cheonma had promised, he was treated “like Cheonma himself.” Perhaps he was even treated better.

“Our Master calls me Yeon-ah. Besides my parents, he’s the only one who calls me that. Would you like to call me that, Lord Consort? I think it would feel more friendly.”

After the relationship between Cheonma and Munpyeong became official, the disciple who had approached him most warmly was Cho Gyo-yeon.

There was a reason she was so particularly amiable. It wasn't because she was the youngest, nor because she was the only woman among the Four Disciples. It was because she had a lifelong problem she couldn’t solve: her love life.

Her greatest life concern was her utter inability to capture the interest of her Second Brother, Gwak Jin-mu. Seeing Munpyeong successfully ensnare Cheonma, she had become greatly intrigued. Just what kind of incredible skill did he possess to hold onto a man like her master?

“If your skills work on our Master, then Second Brother should be no problem, right?”

That was the bold question she had asked on the day they first met. Since then, she had sought him out whenever she had a free moment, trying to get his advice. Munpyeong had tried with all his might to correct her outrageous misunderstanding, but it was no use.

After he had accepted Cheonma's confession, the man's doting nature had fully blossomed. Not just with words but with actions, he treated Munpyeong like a precious treasure, and every time Cho Gyo-yeon witnessed it, she grew genuinely envious.

“It still feels a bit… I will try. Let’s wait until we’re more comfortable with each other.”

The way things were going, it felt like a lifetime would pass before he felt comfortable, but as he lived the life of a so-called person of high station, his knack for diplomatic rhetoric had improved.

As Munpyeong gracefully demurred with a smile, Cho Gyo-yeon pouted in disappointment. Though she was over thirty, she often acted with the innocence of a young girl.

“What a shame. But well, do as you please.”

She twirled a lock of her long hair around her finger and gazed at him. Being stared at so intently by such a beautiful woman made Munpyeong’s heart, the heart of a man, flutter for a moment. Her lips were red and her teeth pearly white, her eyes a deep, captivating black. Her skin was as fair as jade, her large eyes were gentle, and her smile was both charming and beautiful.

Why would the Sword of Deceit reject the advances of such a beautiful woman?

Munpyeong couldn't fathom Gwak Jin-mu's intentions. It was true that Cho Gyo-yeon had a slightly headstrong personality, but other than that, she was a lady with no faults. Her family was good, her sect was good, her looks were beautiful, and above all, she loved only him with a single-minded devotion. What more perfect woman could a man ask for?

“…I wonder what it is about you that our Master likes so much?”

So that was what she was thinking, with that deep, penetrating gaze. Munpyeong gave a bitter smile at Cho Gyo-yeon's muttered question.

`I wonder. What does Cheonma like so much about me?`

Sometimes, he would ask himself the same question in front of a mirror. The man he had won was so far above his station that anyone would have such thoughts. At times, even he himself doubted the situation, so there was no reason to be angry at Cho Gyo-yeon for wondering the same.

“I believe that’s a question for the Lord Master, not me. How would I know the reason?”

“You know what our Master is like. If I ask, I’ll just be laughed at. And lately, he doesn’t seem to think too kindly of me. He gives me these not-so-subtle looks for visiting the Thunder Palace so often when you two are practically on your honeymoon…”

“I have never given you a ‘not-so-subtle’ look. I have given you very blatant ones.”

Just as she was pouting and about to launch into a complaint about Cheonma, Cho Gyo-yeon was caught red-handed. Flustered, she turned around with an awkward laugh.

Cheonma, having returned from a short outing, was standing at the doorway, watching her intently. He was leaning casually against the doorframe, one ankle crossed over the other, a posture that clearly spelled trouble.

For a moment, a look of alarm crossed Cho Gyo-yeon’s face, but she quickly composed herself. Rising hastily from her seat, she offered a flawless bow, trying to soothe his mood.

“Greetings, Grand Supreme Lord. Have you been well?”

“‘Have I been well?’ Weren’t you here just the day before yesterday? You must have a great deal of free time lately.”

Cheonma stared at her with his characteristic, mocking gaze. While Munpyeong was still flustered by such looks, Cho Gyo-yeon, hardened by long years of training, perfectly masked her expression and smiled amiably. Having served an excessively ill-tempered master for so long, she was an expert at placating him. Besides, she knew exactly what kind of attitude he was weak to.

“I’m not free, I’m just desperate to get married. I came to learn the secret from the Lord Consort.”

Cho Gyo-yeon emphasized the words ‘married’ and ‘Lord Consort.’ Cheonma simply shook his head as if in disbelief.

“Do you truly believe you can learn a method to capture Jin-mu from him?”

“I didn’t expect that much, but I thought he might know something I don’t. As you know, I’ve never truly experienced affection before. Because someone keeps desperately running away, that is.”

A woman has her pride. Even if the whole world knew her story, confessing such circumstances in her own words couldn't be easy. Yet, Cho Gyo-yeon unabashedly laid bare her situation and desperation to Cheonma.

That childlike, defenseless attitude was quite familiar to Munpyeong. He often found himself taking on a similar demeanor when dealing with Cheonma.

Cheonma certainly had that quality about him. He didn't necessarily accept it well, but somehow, you found yourself relying on him. When faced with a difficult problem that seemed impossible to solve on your own, the first person you thought of was Cheonma. It seemed to be a common trait among those around him.

“The reason that fool runs for his life is because you chase him for his life. You press him without giving him a moment to breathe. Do you expect him not to run?”

“When have I not given him a moment to breathe? I am always considerate of him.”

“Right. You’re always ‘considerate’ of him. You prowl around him like a tigress stalking her prey, constantly watching for an opening. Then, just at the decisive moment of attack, you back off slightly and believe you’re being considerate. You might call it consideration, but to him, it’s nothing short of being toyed with. Every time, his blood must run cold.”

He was referring to how a tiger plays with its catch, biting a vital spot, shaking it, and tossing it into the air. It was a method to disorient the prey before delivering the final blow. Cheonma was pointing out that this was exactly what Cho Gyo-yeon was doing to Gwak Jin-mu.

Once he had made up his mind, he pressed on without mercy. Even though she was his youngest disciple and a woman, his treatment of her was relentless. He was a truly impartial master; he treated his first disciple, Ho Wan-pyeong, the same as he treated his youngest, Cho Gyo-yeon. He gave no special treatment for being a woman, nor did he dote on her for being young.

“If you truly want to have him, then from now on, distance yourself from him. Pretend you don’t know him. Ignore him. Men are cowardly creatures who will kick off their shoes and flee if you chase them. On the other hand, they are also curious beasts who will deliberately follow and pester a woman they see running away. Your job is to stimulate his curiosity and make him come to you on his own. So stop wasting your time on pointless efforts. You’re going to wear down the very doorstep of the Thunder Palace.”

Cho Gyo-yeon’s face, which had been expecting to be dismissed, brightened at his words.

Munpyeong, who hadn’t expected much, found Cheonma’s response surprising. The fickle man, who only responded to others' expectations when he felt like it, had given some rather sound advice. Compared to the countless bits of nonsense Munpyeong himself had muttered over the past few months, this advice seemed far more valuable and worthwhile.

“If I really do that, will he look my way, Master?” Cho Gyo-yeon asked, her eyes sparkling, her voice filled with excitement.

`I doubt it. That man is not as simple as he looks. But it will likely yield better results than what you’re doing now.`

That was what he should have said honestly, but Cheonma, wanting to divert her attention from Munpyeong, spoke words he didn't mean.

“That depends on how faithfully you follow my words.”

Cheonma’s disciples had a surprisingly high level of loyalty to their master. Though he was hardly a man who inspired virtue, his disciples tended to take his words as truth. Cho Gyo-yeon was no exception. She took his advice to heart as if they were golden words and bowed deeply, looking as if she could fly.

“Thank you, Master. I will not forget this kindness.”

Cho Gyo-yeon’s ploy—that if she kept bothering Munpyeong, something might fall her way from either him or Cheonma—had paid off perfectly. Annoyed that she was constantly interrupting their newlywed life, Cheonma had thrown her a rather large piece of bait to get rid of her. Of course, it wasn’t as if he was unaware of her scheme. It was precisely because he knew that he didn't give her more thorough help.

The one who knowingly let himself be used, and the one who used him while pretending to be used. The two of them, while seemingly mismatched, got along surprisingly well. Above all, their hidden intentions aligned perfectly.

Having driven Cho Gyo-yeon away with a few words, Cheonma dismissed Ranran as well and approached Munpyeong. Then, as if worried someone might see, he carefully pressed a kiss to his cheek. Munpyeong didn't know where the custom came from, but lately, Cheonma had taken to greeting him with a kiss. Munpyeong smiled shyly and met his gaze.

“How did your meeting go?”

While it was good to have Cheonma back, what was even more welcome was the fact that, thanks to him, he wouldn’t have to deal with Cho Gyo-yeon for a while. With one of his worries gone, his terrible migraine had subsided dramatically. Just moments ago it had felt like a gimlet, but now it was more like a pinprick, far more bearable.

Cheonma sat down across from him and poured himself tea. The finest Qimen tea, always prepared in his chambers, released its distinct, rich aroma.

“It was nothing. A man came to ask after my well-being, so I heard him out. What else is there to say between him and me?”

The reason Cheonma, who rarely left the Thunder Palace since his relationship with Munpyeong had deepened, had gone out today was because a guest had come to the Cult in person. The man who had traveled all the way to this remote region of Xinjiang with Yun Seung-hyo to meet him was his own nephew, Baek Woo-gyeong.

Baek Woo-gyeong, better known to Munpyeong as the Broken-Faced Wanderer, was visiting the Demonic Cult for the first time since the Great War of Justice and Evil. Though Cheonma had not been receiving outside guests recently, it seemed he couldn't turn away his own nephew. He had left Munpyeong alone to meet him and had spent nearly half a day with him.

Munpyeong, who was well aware of Cheonma's tumultuous past, carefully studied his expression. Cheonma, with his many stories, did not have a good relationship with his blood relatives. Among them, he had, unintentionally, inflicted harm on his nephew Baek Woo-gyeong in multiple ways.

Munpyeong knew that Cheonma, a man of many weaknesses, was particularly vulnerable when it came to his nephew. He pretended not to be, but Munpyeong knew he cared deeply for the young man whose life he had ruined. That was why he was so curious about what they had discussed. It was certain that both Cheonma and Baek Woo-gyeong had much to say to each other, but their relationship was not comfortable enough for them to open up so freely.

“He came all the way to Xinjiang just to ask how you were? I doubt that’s all.”

“He came to ask how I was, and to ask a favor. A bit of both, it seems.”

When Munpyeong pressed him without letting it go, Cheonma reluctantly answered in a disinterested tone. Since their secret wedding ceremony in the Hall of Radiant Power had been discovered, he had made a point of not lying to Munpyeong if he could help it, instead developing a new skill of simply not speaking at all. But Munpyeong had also developed a counter-skill of persistent questioning, so Cheonma's new technique rarely saw the light of day.

“He asked a favor? The Broken-Faced Wanderer had a request for you?”

“So he said.”

“What did he ask? If it’s something that requires the Grand Supreme Lord’s hand, it must be no small matter.”

The bonds of blood are forged through meeting and clashing. The two men, meeting for the first time as the uncle who killed his father and the nephew whose life was ruined because of that uncle, were merely distant, even after learning they were related.

Cheonma was not the type to embrace his nephew and cry, “My poor nephew,” and the Broken-Faced Wanderer, who had lived his whole life as a member of the Orthodox Faction, found it burdensome to accept a being like Cheonma as family.

Though they were uncle and nephew, their relationship was so strained that others might mistake them for mere acquaintances. For the Broken-Faced Wanderer to make a request despite that discomfort meant it might be a truly serious matter.

A look of concern began to spread across the face of Munpyeong, who had witnessed countless disasters of unbelievable scale while at Cheonma's side. It hadn’t been long since the second Great War had ended, and the thought that another incident had erupted that required this man’s intervention weighed heavily on his mind.

“I don’t know what useless thoughts are running through that little head of yours. Rest assured, it’s not the kind of thing you’re worried about. It was truly nothing.”

“After all I’ve seen and heard, how can I be reassured by such words? I now know the weight that the name ‘Heavenly Demon’ carries. If it’s a matter that requires you to act personally, it’s no different from an incident that could shake the entire Jianghu. And such incidents are always dangerous.”

The greater the power of one’s reputation, the greater the responsibility that comes with it. Munpyeong had come to understand a reality he never knew as a low-ranking warrior by watching Cheonma. The higher his position, the more duties he had to bear.

He had already stepped down from the position of Cult Leader, but the title of "Unrivaled Under the Heavens" would follow him until the day he died. It was both his honor and his shackles.

“I’m telling you, it’s not like that… His request was a trivial one. He said he wanted to reclaim his life, and asked me to make him an Enlightened Master. As you know, undergoing a complete metamorphosis allows one to shed their old shell and reconstruct their body. For him, becoming an Enlightened master is the only way to regain his face. He came to me for help with that. He didn’t come to entrust me with some dangerous mission.”

He hadn't wanted to talk about it, but his silence was causing Munpyeong too much worry. As they say, a person startled by a turtle will jump at the sight of a pot lid. Having indirectly experienced what it was like to live as Cheonma, Munpyeong reacted with excessive sensitivity to the status and responsibilities he held. He couldn't let go of things that were better left unknown, which made Munpyeong think that knowing too much about each other wasn't always a good thing.

“Oh, is that so? Then that’s a relief. It’s not a bad thing for you if the Broken-Faced Wanderer regains his face, is it? If you help him, you can finally clear the debt on your conscience you’ve unintentionally carried.”

To Munpyeong, who had been imagining a string of grandiose requests—like stopping an invasion from beyond the borders or quelling a rebellion in the Imperial Palace, things he felt he’d heard of somewhere before—Baek Woo-gyeong’s request sounded downright modest.

Of course, becoming an Enlightened master was no easy feat, but Cheonma had reached the Profound Realm, and Baek Woo-gyeong was already a transcendent master. It seemed unlikely that Baek Woo-gyeong, who shared Cheonma's bloodline and had the Zhuge Clan—renowned for their worldly genius—on his mother's side, would lack the necessary aptitude.

“If that’s his request, you should gladly help him. He is your nephew, after all.”

Munpyeong’s face brightened, and he looked at Cheonma. Cheonma smiled with a hint of bitterness and swirled the teacup in his hand.

He had said as much, but in truth, Baek Woo-gyeong’s request had a more complicated story behind it. It was true he had asked for help in becoming an Enlightened master, but the reason wasn't to fix his face, but to help the devastated Orthodox Faction.

The last Great War had dealt a tremendous blow to the Nine Sects and Five Great Families. Losing all their Enlightened masters and the leaders of their respective factions was a huge loss, but what was more fatal was the fact that all their crimes, committed in league with Gwak Hyo, had been exposed to the world.

Under the guise of the Orthodox Faction, they had shamelessly committed inhuman atrocities, sacrificing not only countless martial artists but also innocent commoners in the process.

When their hidden crimes were brought to light, the Jianghu boiled with outrage. As was to be expected, the once-shining name of the Righteous Path Alliance was dragged through the mud. The Eight Factions and Five Great Families that had colluded with Gwak Hyo had to seal their gates, and it became common for young disciples, disillusioned with their own sects, to leave and return home.

The problem was that even unrelated members of the Orthodox Faction were suffering. The Unorthodox Faction, who would never miss such an opportunity, lumped in and criticized even those who hadn’t participated in Gwak Hyo’s rebellion.

The innocent were naturally indignant, but public sentiment in the Jianghu remained cold. There was no place left for the Orthodox Faction to stand.

There was no way Baek Woo-gyeong, an orthodox man to the bone, would stand by and watch this unfold. While he acknowledged the past mistakes, he still had a strong conviction in the Orthodox Faction. It was not wrong to follow the path of righteousness and chivalry. People like Jo Se-hwa and Song Gisan still remained in the Orthodox Faction, and their beliefs still shone true.

The flawed customs of the past certainly needed to be corrected, but Baek Woo-gyeong believed that the very reason for the Orthodox Faction’s existence should not be denied. That was why he had sought help even from Cheonma to become stronger. To protect his beliefs, he needed power. He could not enforce his will unless he became at least an Enlightened master.

Baek Woo-gyeong had laid bare his intentions with complete honesty. It was no easy task to directly ask the man who had virtually annihilated the Orthodox Factions of the Central Plains to help rebuild them, but Baek Woo-gyeong, confident in his own cause, stood tall even before Cheonma.

`‘To rebuild with my own hands what I destroyed with my own hands.’ Woo-gyeong’s words are not wrong. If the Orthodox Faction, which at least upholds a pretense of good, ceases to exist, martial artists will become nothing more than a band of thieves. And a Demonic Cult without an enemy is prone to complacency…`

Cheonma fully recognized the necessity of what Baek Woo-gyeong proposed. He also knew that he could accomplish it. But he was deeply dissatisfied with the fact that even after stepping down as the Cult Leader and officially entering retirement, he could not withdraw from the affairs of the Jianghu.

He was a recluse now. He hadn't performed a formal hand-washing ceremony, but he had let go of everything he possessed and was even building a new residence to pass his current one to his disciple.

He had thought all that was left of his life was to spend his days in leisure with Munpyeong, but that thought had turned into a mere dream. When he didn't go to the Jianghu, the Jianghu came to him. He no longer had any obligations, yet they shamelessly demanded more from him.

“Come here. Closer.”

His irritation rising, Cheonma called Munpyeong over and sat him on his lap to calm his foul mood. Munpyeong didn’t seem particularly pleased, but perhaps because there was no one else around to see, he obediently sat on his lap.

A warm body heat filled his arms. Cheonma stroked Munpyeong’s hair and rubbed his own cheek against his. Munpyeong flinched as if tickled. Cheonma wrapped one arm around Munpyeong’s shoulder and, with the other, caressed his fingers, letting out a deep sigh.

“It seems trouble keeps finding me because I’m still in the Thunder Palace. The Hall of Paired Wings needs to be completed quickly so I can properly retire. It’s frustrating not having an excuse to hide away.”

`I wonder if what you intend to do can really be called ‘retirement,’` Munpyeong thought to himself, but he didn't voice it. When people spoke of retirement, they usually imagined a simple life, building a thatched hut and tending a small garden. But Cheonma planned to build a magnificent new palace in the deepest part of the Demonic Cult and retire there.

Given his extravagant nature—he wouldn’t wear anything but the finest silk and wouldn't use anything but the highest quality goods—it was perhaps a natural outcome. But for Munpyeong, who was only familiar with common sense, he couldn’t help but feel an indescribable, strange emotion whenever Cheonma uttered the word ‘retirement.’ Not that he ever thought Cheonma would spend the rest of his life in a rough white robe, farming and plowing fields, but still. Wasn't this just a bit much?

“…Speaking of the Hall of Paired Wings, my Lord. I’ve been hearing some strange rumors lately. Are they true?”

Having briefly forgotten about other matters because of Baek Woo-gyeong, Munpyeong was suddenly reminded of an important issue by Cheonma's words.

He straightened his back and turned his head to look at Cheonma. Cheonma, who had been soothing his troubled mind by stroking Munpyeong, seemed to feel his gaze and looked up.

“Strange rumors? What rumors?”

“You’re planning to dig a new pond and even create a garden in front of the Hall of Paired Wings you’re building?”

“Yes. I am. Is that not a matter of course when building a new residence?”

Still not understanding what the problem was, Cheonma asked in confusion. For him, a residence typically included dozens of rooms, a pond in the courtyard, and one or two artificial mountains within its walls.

`He’s just that kind of person. There’s nothing to be done about it.`

Realizing that his mind would be at ease only if he gave up on certain things, Munpyeong abandoned any thought of pointing out his absurd standards.

“That’s not what I’m taking issue with. The problem is the rumored names for that pond and garden. Is it really true? As if naming the new residence the Hall of Paired Wings wasn’t enough, are you really going to name the pond the Pond of Paired Eyes and plant Intertwined Branches in the garden?”

The Hall of Paired Wings (Biikjeon) was named after the Biyik bird, a mythical creature where the male and female each have only one wing, unable to fly unless they are together. The Pond of Paired Eyes (Bimokji) was likely from the Bimok fish, a legendary fish where each has only one eye, unable to swim unless they are a pair. The Intertwined Branches (Yeonriji) was not a legend but a real phenomenon, referring not to a specific type of tree, but to a miraculous tree where two different trees grow entangled as one.

As the explanations show, they all symbolized inseparable lovers. It was for this reason that the poet Baek Juyi, in his song of the love between Emperor Xuanzong and Yang Guifei, wrote, “In the heavens, we vow to be as birds of paired wings; on earth, we vow to be as trees with intertwined branches.”

“Hmph. So the rumor has already spread. I wanted to surprise you.”

Unaware of how much this news had truly stunned Munpyeong, Cheonma expressed his sincere disappointment. He looked genuinely upset, as if a surprise gift had been ruined.

Munpyeong was so dumbfounded he didn't know what to say first. Should he start by criticizing his atrocious naming sense? Or should he first point out his delusion in thinking that he would be pleased to hear such names?

“Why did you choose those names? There are so many other perfectly fine names.”

“What’s wrong with the Hall of Paired Wings and the Pond of Paired Eyes? The names rhyme, they have a certain charm, and they’re perfectly fitting, are they not?”

“They are absolutely not fitting. Anyone can see that. One might be acceptable, but three is too much, don’t you think? People will laugh at us.”

“You are still afraid of what others think. Or are you ashamed of my love?”

`Yes. I am ashamed. Sometimes, I’m genuinely mortified.` The words rose to the tip of his tongue, but Munpyeong swallowed them. He wasn't so young as to not know that truth wasn’t always the correct choice.

As he had often experienced, Cheonma held a long grudge. And once he was displeased, it took a great deal of effort to win back his favor. Knowing this, who would dare to touch that powder keg?

Munpyeong swallowed the sigh that rose in his throat and tried to soothe him.

“My Lord.”

“What does the gaze of others matter? They are all cowards who wouldn't dare say a word in front of you or me. You need only focus on me. There is no need to look at anything else.”

Cheonma reached out and cupped Munpyeong’s cheek. Munpyeong, so close that their eyelashes could touch, couldn't meet his gaze and quietly looked down. Cheonma’s long, feathery lashes brushed against his own. It tickled, like the kiss of a butterfly.

“You know I am a man who enjoys showing off. You did not choose me without knowing that about me. I am a man who boasts when he has something to boast about. I have no use for humility. You are the most precious treasure I have acquired in my entire life, and I will gladly show this treasure off.”

“You are the only one who thinks of me as a treasure, my Lord. In the eyes of others, I am a pebble, not a gem.”

“Even if you are a pebble, you are my pebble. Even if you are a weed, you are my weed. Who would dare object to me cherishing what is mine? If you find such a person, bring them to me. I will teach them their place.”

Cheonma smiled and placed a light kiss on Munpyeong’s cheek. A series of soft pecks. A sweet, tickling sensation, just like his eyelashes, spread down his neck. Though he felt it was inappropriate, Munpyeong couldn't help but smile.

This man was truly uninhibited in expressing himself. He would say things that would make an ordinary man blush without batting an eye, leaving Munpyeong, who was unaccustomed to such situations, completely at a loss.

And yet, it wasn't an entirely unpleasant feeling. To have his one and only lover whisper words of love so shamelessly was embarrassing, but it was also true that a corner of his heart tickled each time.

Munpyeong wrapped his arms around Cheonma’s neck. He wasn't as shameless as him, so he couldn't convey his love with words. Instead, he expressed his heart with his body. Munpyeong pressed his lips against Cheonma's. Then he parted them and slipped his tongue into his mouth.

Thanks to Cheonma, who met him without hesitation, the tender expression of affection quickly turned into a heated prelude to passion. The wet, fervent sound of kisses echoed through the room, though the sun had not yet set. With their eyes closed, engrossed in each other, they caressed each other’s bodies, indulging in the exquisitely sweet sensation.

Cheonma’s delicate touch undid the sash of Munpyeong’s robes. Now half-naked on his lap, Munpyeong naturally shed the rest of his loosened clothes.

In the brilliant afternoon sunlight, Munpyeong’s bare torso was revealed. His waist was completely unbound, and between his legs, his member was already erect. Cheonma’s clothes were in a similar state of disarray. His chest fully exposed, he rubbed his bulging front against Munpyeong’s groin, letting out a sharp groan.

“Is it all right to do it here? Or shall we go to the bed?”

He whispered insinuatingly, nibbling on Munpyeong’s earlobe. Though his words suggested moving to the bed, the eager way he rubbed himself between Munpyeong’s legs showed he was already dripping with arousal.

Feeling his trousers dampen with Cheonma's pre-come, Munpyeong panted heavily. The fact that he was on top, and that he had initiated their lovemaking, made him bolder than usual.

“No. Here is fine. Please, my Lord, give it to me.”

Munpyeong opened his red lips, licked his lower lip, and whispered seductively. Of course, the seductiveness was entirely in Cheonma’s eyes; Munpyeong had simply done it because his mouth was dry. Cheonma reached down, pulled at the sash of Munpyeong's trousers, and pressed a long kiss to his lips.

Cheonma’s massive erection stirred against Munpyeong’s perineum. As the hot, throbbing flesh touched his delicate skin, it felt as if a second heart was beating between his legs.

Cheonma rubbed him with the thick, veined shaft. Roughly teased, Munpyeong let out a deep moan and lifted his hips into the air.

“M-my Lord.”

“Call me Un-gang. You can call me that in bed. No, with you, you can call me that anytime, anywhere.”

Cheonma whispered sweet nothings into his ear. His fingers found their way into Munpyeong’s hidden opening.

As if it had grown accustomed to the frequent visitor, Munpyeong’s rear entrance accepted the fingers without surprise, clenching around them. Tinged with a lustful sheen from his arousal, his hole was already trembling in anticipation.

Feeling abashed at how eager he was, Munpyeong buried his face in the crook of Cheonma’s neck. Laughing softly and kissing his ear, Cheonma pushed his fingers deeper inside.

“Haah… haah… ahh.”

His body grew hot from the skillful play of the fingers. It wasn't just loosening muscles; it was a caress, a foreplay in itself, meaning their lovemaking had already begun. As he had been highly aroused from the start, Munpyeong's reactions were uncharacteristically honest.

As the finger movements grew more obscene, Munpyeong, who had been breathing heavily and rubbing his nose against Cheonma’s neck, could no longer hold back and began to nibble on his throat.

The sensation of Cheonma’s skin against his teeth was simply divine. The texture was soft, the taste was sweet, and the muscles were firm and resilient. The solid resistance he felt with each bite gave him a pleasure akin to sinking his teeth into the neck of living prey. Unlike a woman’s soft and delicate body, a man’s body offered a unique pleasure in biting. Perhaps the psychological thrill was greater because the owner of this body was a man without peer in the world. He was almost certain he was the only person who could bite Cheonma like this. Who in the world would dare to set their teeth on Cheonma’s body?

Cheonma took full advantage of Munpyeong’s rare assertiveness. He spread Munpyeong’s buttocks wide and, carefully controlling the pace so as not to overwhelm him, pushed himself inside.

Accepting Cheonma’s body while seated facing him on his thighs, Munpyeong arched his back and swallowed a deep moan. A bonfire was lit in his already heated body. The carefully prepared body naturally accepted the pleasure Cheonma offered.

Munpyeong moved his hips, trying to draw his partner in deeper.

“So impatient. I’m not even all the way in yet.”

Cheonma grabbed Munpyeong's hasty hips to hold him still and thrust into him once more. With the second advance, the empty space inside was filled to the brim. It felt as though every corner of his insides was filled with Cheonma.

“Ah!”

Munpyeong let out an involuntary cry and panted shallowly. A cruelly intense pleasure spread through his entire body.

With his own weight pressing down, the pressure on his inner walls was even more intense. All of his body's senses were focused solely on the object inside his belly. The pleasure points within his walls were being stimulated by Cheonma. The large, heavy shaft jabbed at them at will, controlling Munpyeong's body. Each time Cheonma thrust up, Munpyeong was tossed like a rag doll. The sensation shot all the way to his toes, enveloping his entire being.

Munpyeong’s insides, which tightened and clenched around him, were incredibly hot and sweet. Cheonma savored that warm paradise to his heart’s content and began to move his hips. With nowhere to brace himself, Munpyeong clung to Cheonma’s neck, letting out whimpering sounds.

Today, Munpyeong was exceptionally wanton and enchanting. His unconcealed cries of pleasure delighted Cheonma’s ears, and his body, actively wrapping around him, brought a pleasure greater than any he had ever known.

Cheonma began to move in and out of Munpyeong, matching his rhythm. The position limited the depth of his thrusts, but the heavy, driving force was incomparably fierce.

“Ah… ahhh… ah!”

Munpyeong moaned as if he were crying, matching Cheonma’s movements. Cheonma’s breathing grew just as ragged. A midday tryst is usually characterized by leisure, but they were so impatient in their pursuit of each other's pleasure that there was no room for such things.

Cheonma’s member, which had been delving deeper and deeper into Munpyeong, finally reached its climax. Feeling the dragon’s roar deep within his belly, Munpyeong climaxed at the same time. A cloudy, milky white fluid shot onto the bare stomachs of the two men. Drenched both inside and out with semen, Munpyeong shivered, savoring the lingering afterglow of pleasure.

“You’re especially sensitive today. Did something good happen?”

Cheonma’s eyes crinkled in pleasure as he nibbled on Munpyeong’s slack lips.

Cheonma, who loved to touch, couldn't take his hands off Munpyeong's body even after their lovemaking had ended. In a daze from the sudden rush of pleasure, Munpyeong answered his question with a blank stare. He wasn't unaware that he had been particularly wanton just now, but his mind hadn't fully returned, so he felt no shame.

“No. Nothing good happened at all. I even had a migraine just a little while ago.”

“You did? You had a migraine? How is it now? Is it still bad?”

Cheonma, who knew all too well the symptoms of a migraine from his own sensitive constitution, looked at Munpyeong’s face with concern, thinking his physical condition must have been fine since he was so sensitive.

`Huh? That’s right, I did have a migraine. Where did it go?`

Munpyeong, whose head had felt like it was splitting just a short while ago, tilted his head in confusion, realizing the pain had completely vanished.

Miraculously, he felt nothing now. As if it had never been there, not only was the severe pain gone, but even the slightest throb was absent.

“…I think it’s fine. It must be all better.”

“Your migraine is better? That’s a rather persistent thing.”

Cheonma found Munpyeong’s words hard to believe.

“I know. Usually, when I get a migraine, it lasts for half a day. It’s strange that it’s completely gone. There’s no pain at all now.”

Just as puzzled as Cheonma, Munpyeong touched his own forehead. The fact that not even a residual ache remained made it even more suspicious.

“It seems lovemaking must be a special remedy for migraines. For it to disappear after just one session, this is truly a panacea, is it not? Are you hurting anywhere else? I can fix that for you, too.”

Realizing from Munpyeong’s reaction that the headache was truly gone, Cheonma began to tease him mischievously.

Teased for such an unexpected reason, Munpyeong’s neck turned bright red. He tried to evade Cheonma's teasing, but once he was in high spirits, his mood was not easily subdued.

“No need to refuse. What’s there to be ashamed of in the practice of medicine? Where else does it hurt? Come to think of it, you once said your back was weak, didn't you? Shall I fix that for you this time?”

`The reason my back hurt back then was entirely because you overworked me! And if I get a heart condition, it will be all your fault!`

Munpyeong felt so exasperated he wanted to scream. But Cheonma was incredibly persistent, and with his limited eloquence, there was no way for Munpyeong to shut that mouth of his.

So, once again, he resorted to action. He wrapped both hands tightly around his neck and sealed the endlessly teasing lips with his own. The act led directly to a second round of lovemaking, but Munpyeong did not regret what he had done at all. Because, engrossed in their second encounter, Cheonma had completely forgotten what he had been teasing him about.

Munpyeong thought he had won, but his victory was momentary. Cheonma resumed his teasing after their second round, and provoked him in the same way after their third. Only after they had joined their bodies a fourth time did Munpyeong realize he had been played by Cheonma all along. It was always like this. No matter how hard he tried, he could never win against Cheonma.

Perhaps that was why Cheonma was still the Unrivaled Under the Heavens. The only one in the world who could defeat him still lacked training.