Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tang Bo sat in the pavilion, the cool breeze brushing against his skin as he watched his lover, the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, playing with Tang Jo Pyung. 

A soft smile tugged at his lips. There was a rare fondness in his eyes, something that only appeared when his gaze rested on his Hyung.

It was a surprisingly gentle side of his Hyung, besides, the kids liked him too. Must be because his Hyung had the same brain as a chi—

Thud!
"Ack!" Tang Bo yelped, rubbing his forehead where a boot had smacked him dead-on. "Why did you throw your boot at me!?"

"I just didn’t like what you were thinking," Chung Myung said, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. Even while teasing, there was a sharpness to him, as if his playful gestures could easily turn into something more dangerous, should he choose.

Tang Bo grinned, unfazed. "I was just thinking how hot you were last ni—"

He didn’t get to finish as he ducked, narrowly dodging the second boot thrown his way.

"There's a child in here, you idiot." 

"And you're teaching him violence?"

Tang Jo Pyung giggled before suddenly leaping onto Chung Myung’s back with all the energy of a playful cub. Chung Myung's hand instinctively reached back to steady the child.

"Elder, I’ll close my eyes so you can hit Grand Uncle," the boy whispered conspiratorially into Chung Myung’s ear.

"No, but this little traitor…" Tang Bo placed a hand dramatically over his chest, feigning deep hurt. "Aigo! The whole world is against me."

Chung Myung huffed and held his arm demandingly toward Tang Bo."Give me my boots back."

In response, the Dark Sain obliged without hesitation, surprising Chung Myung by slipping the boots onto his feet.

There was a playful smirk on Tang Bo's face before he suddenly lunged up, his arms scooping up Tang Jo Pyung. The child squealed startled but clung stubbornly to Chung Myung's robes, refusing to be pulled away.

Seeing no other option, he went for the ultimate weapon: his fingers darted to the boy’s sides, mercilessly tickling him.

"Ah! Wait, Great Uncle—!" Tang Jo Pyung's laughter erupted, uncontrollable and wild, his tiny hands slipping from Chung Myung’s robes as he squirmed under the attack.

"There is no mercy for traitors!" Tang Bo declared with a dark chuckle.

But the punishment could not be executed as the three of them were interrupted by a servant.

"I apologize, but it is time for Tang Jo Pyung's training."

"Awwww..." the child groaned, his face falling in disappointment. He pouted for a moment before reluctantly bidding the two saints goodbye, offering a small wave as he was led away.

Chung Myung watched the boy disappear from sight, then sat down with his usual ease, pulling out a bottle of wine from his side. Uncorking it, he took a slow sip, savoring the warmth that spread through his chest. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the distant gaze of his companion. He raised an eyebrow.

"What, you wanted to play more?

Tang Bo’s lips twitched as if he wanted to respond, but instead, he fidgeted. His fingers toyed with the hem of his robe, and whatever words had been on the tip of his tongue fell away. 

This gesture greatly annoyed Chung Myung. 

"Just spit it out."

"I—" Tang Bo closed his eyes for a moment to think and opened them. The resolve in his gaze took Chung Myung aback, and he had to take a second to process the question spoken to him.

"Do you want children?"

The Plum Blossom Sword Saint blinked dumbfounded.

"Uh, what?"

"I was thinking," Tang Bo began again, his voice steady but softer now, "about having a child of our own."

"Bo-yah, you're the one with medicine in here, we both know that's impossible." He forced a small chuckle, though the lightness in his voice was already fading.

But Tang Bo didn’t smile. His expression remained serious, determined. And that unwavering gaze sent a ripple of unease through Chung Myung. 'He’s serious about this,' he realized, his stomach twisting slightly.

Chung Myung’s smile faltered, a creeping dread replacing it. Tang Bo really seemed to want a child, so what if he left him for a woman?

"Not anymore," Tang Bo’s voice cut through his thoughts, calm but resolute. "I’ve made a pill—one that allows men to carry a child too."

"Wait, for real?"

Tang Bo nodded slowly, watching the shock spread across his lover’s face as he patiently waited for an answer.

"Then…" Chung Myung hesitated, his words trailing off as a faint blush crept up his neck and tinged the tips of his ears as he pondered on the idea.

"Alright," he finally mumbled, barely above a whisper. His voice softened, uncharacteristically shy. "How do we—"

The pure joy on Tang Bo's face made his heart skip a beat. He looked so beautiful with that shine in his emerald eyes, as if he had been holding onto this hope for so long and was now seeing it bloom into reality.

Chung Myung averted his gaze and swallowed hard, trying to steady his racing thoughts. But his mind wandered to places— other places—entirely. 

Meanwhile, Tang Bo, oblivious to Chung Myung's internal fluster, was already rummaging through his sleeves. His fingers moved with quiet precision until he finally pulled out a small, dark crimson pill.

With a delighted grin, he approached Chung Myung, almost bumping into him.

"Okay, so you take this pill and then I imbue seminal fluid in your body. The pill will act similarly to an ovum egg and absorb the spermatozoa. We might have to go through this process a few times, though."

.

.

.

"What?"

"I just fuck you until you get pregnant."

"Hold up—" Chung Myung halted him in his tracks. "Why do I have to be the one to carry it?"

"Because we need to monitor the process constantly, and it’s hard to do that on myself."

"Then ask your brothers to handle the checks."

"They're not as skilled as I am. Besides, I have poison in my body that could affect the baby."

No way Tang Bo just came up with that excuse. How long had he been planning this? Yet, his reasoning sounded foolproof.

Chung Myung took his time to think it through. Tang Bo made him happy, and he wanted to return that joy.

"Fine," he finally said, feeling certain he had made the right choice when Tang Bo's smile widened, bursting past its limits.

"Thank you, Hyung. I swear I'll take care of you properly."

"You better," Chung Myung replied, playfully grabbing Tang Bo's chin and leaning in to kiss that giddy face.

Tang Bo melted into his lap, wrapping his arms around Chung Myung as he nestled into the crook of his partner's neck.

"You'll have to stay here for a few weeks, though."

Chung Myung tilted his head, allowing Tang Bo more space to cuddle against him.

"Then let me grab my things and inform Sect Leader Sahyung."

"Will you tell him of our plan?"

"Not yet…" Chung Myung bit his lip. There was still doubt lingering in him about the effectiveness of the pill. 

"I understand," Tang Bo said, pulling back to caress Chung Myung's face. "I’ll wait for you."

He leaned in for a kiss, and Chung Myung met him halfway. Their lips pressed together firmly as their tongues intertwined.

Tang Bo moaned softly inside his lover's mouth, his fist gripping Chung Myung’s robe to keep them from slipping further

'Not yet,' his mind kindly reminded.

Chapter Text

To Chung Myung’s surprise, his sahyung allowed him to stay at Tang Bo's without any fuss. In fact, he seemed rather pleased about it…

For some reason, it irked Chung Myung.

"What are you thinking of?" Tang Bo asked as he pinned Chung Myung down. 

Tang Bo's cheeks were flushed, and despite not having even started, his breath came in eager, shallow gasps. He looked like a pervert.

Those lustful eyes gave Chung Myung the creeps. So he kicked Tang Bo.

The brat staggered for a moment but quickly regained his footing, jumping back on Chung Myung as if this were a normal occurrence. No, perhaps it was.

"Don't stare at me with those eyes!" Chung Myung yelled.

“What eyes?” Tang Bo shot back, his hands impatiently tugging at the swordsman’s robe. “I’m sorry, Hyung-nim, but I can’t help myself knowing I get you all to myself for an entire week.”

Chung Myung was way too weak for those whines. “Take it slow; we’ve got plenty of time,” he said, the words slipping out more like a plea than a command.

Tang Bo leaned down, his hot breath tickling Chung Myung's nose before he licked those plump lips. Chung Myung cracked open his mouth, offering Tang Bo access inside.

While keeping his mouth occupied, Tang Bo’s hands shamelessly invaded Chung Myung’s robes, fumbling over his chest.

Despite the large size of his torso, Chung Myung's breasts were firm, sculpted mostly from muscle, even after a life of leisure. 

It would have made Tang Bo jealous, but he owned them. And to prove that, his fingers pinched and toyed with Chung Myung’s dark pink nipples, eliciting a shudder of pleasure.

At this point, Chung Myung struggled to stifle his moans. Even if he ended up forgetting all about it later, his pride wouldn't let him surrender that easily. 

Tang Bo grinded his thighs, the uncomfortable hardness between his legs twitching with anticipation. He longed to plunge in right then and there, but his swordsman's wishes took priority.

"Hyung-nim….Myung-ah," Tang Bo breathed out as he parted away from that delicious face. His gaze rested on those reddish-pink eyes, partially obscured by a curtain of dark hair.

He gently pushed the strands aside, planting a soft kiss on Chung Myung’s forehead. From there, he continued with a trail of delicate kisses, moving downwards.

To the neck, then to the chest, then to the belly…

"Aah…" A small moan escaped Chung Myung as the moist lips tickled his stomach.

Tang Bo's hands worked together, unpacking the clothing as if unveiling a precious gift.

He took his time, savoring the sight of those well-defined muscles. Eventually, his fingers found their destination, deftly undoing the laces that held Chung Myung's pants in place.

Wiggling them down slowly, he let the fabric slide away, revealing Chung Myung’s glistening, pretty penis.

“You’re already so wet,” Tang Bo murmured in wonder, his fingertips lightly tracing the length of Chung Myung, stopping at the slit. 

With a tentative push, precum oozed out.

“I’m not the only horny pervert around, am I?” Tang Bo teased, knowing full well that Chung Myung was too focused on the searing touches to muster a retort.

It always surprised him how sensitive the Plum Blossom Sword Saint truly was.

Chung Myung’s strength and endurance were unmatched in battle, yet in bed, he became a trembling mess under Tang Bo’s touch.

Tang Bo's fingers reached out to play at the leaking slit once again, gently swirling his index finger around the mess he created. 

He planted fluttering kisses on Chung Myung's hard membrane, slowly working with his lips as he moved even lower.

Chung Myung's hole blinked with expectancy. Hypnotized, Tang Bo blew on it, watching as it quivered at every hot huff of breath.

"Bo-ya…" Chung Myung whined embarassed, covering his face. "Don't just stare at it!"

Tang Bo paused, gathering himself together, his thoughts reeling from the fuzzy intensity. Gently, he leaned forward and pushed his tongue inside. 

Chung Myung cried out in surprise, his legs spreading wider, allowing Tang Bo to eat more of him. 

He then focused on loosening Chung Myung up with his tongue. He moistened and sucked until Chung Myung squirmed and groaned increasingly louder.

His swordsman’s cock twitched dejectedly at the lack of attention. Tang Bo took pity on it, using one of his hands to caress the swollen shaft, stroking him gently.

"Mmmh…" Chung Myung vibrated with pleasure, he reached to grip Tang Bo's head. 

This caused Tang Bo to push deeper into Chung Myung's hole, using his mouth like a suction cup, leaving Chung Myung overwhelmed by the forceful act.

"Bo, Bo—I'm gonna—" Chung Myung couldn't finish his warning as he came. A few drops of cum spilled on Tang Bo's face, who pulled back to admire the masterpiece.

Chung Myung yelped and raised to wipe his face, but Tang Bo grabbed his arm.

"We've done this countless times before," Tang Bo brought Chung Myung's cum slicked fingers to his mouth and slurped on them, savoring the taste, before releasing them with a smack of his lips.

"Why are you still embarassed?"

Blushing furiously, Chung Myung averted his gaze, unknowingly leaving his neck exposed. Tang Bo seized the opportunity, chomping down on the soft flesh, sucking hungrily.

"Aah! Stop—" Chung Myung cried with a shudder, his body still hypersensitive from his orgasm.

Tang Bo placed a peck on his neck before pulling back to commend his handiwork. Chung Myung's lips were puffy and red from his kisses, his neck marked with hickies, and his eyes shone with flustered, unshed tears.

"You're so beautiful," Tang Bo exhaled breathlessly, running his palms down Chung Myung's sides.

Chung Myung turned to face him, and Tang Bo was lost in those eyes once again, feeling as if he had just fallen in love at first sight. 

The Tang brat tilted lazily and bit Chung Myung's lips, going for another taste before they parted open for the same dance, albeit more passionate this time.

Guiding him back down onto the sheets, Tang Bo’s hands found the lube while Chung Myung was distracted, his fingers naughtily probing at the entrance to heaven.

Without any warning, Tang Bo inserted two of his thick fingers deep into Chung Myung's ass, taking pleasure in watching him squirm. 

He had always loved watching Chung Myung lose control, knowing he was the one who had brought him to this point.

"Ah—," Chung Myung's breath hitched, and he instinctively recoiled, his eyelids squeezing shut while another sharp gasp left him. "Umph….hahh."

Tang Bo's fingers moved inside him in a slow, steady rhythm that kept him panting and moaning. Chung Myung melted under him, legs spread wide and ready for whatever Tang Bo wanted to do to him.

Pulling his fingers out with a plop , Tang Bo grabbed the lube and took off his pants, letting them drop to the floor. His erection arched in the cool breeze, longing to return to the comforting warmth of his robes.

But Tang Bo had other plans for it. He climbed back over Chung Myung, jerking himself in a promising manner, his hand gliding over his length as if caressing a hungry snake.

"Fuck," Tang Bo cursed, pumping his cock once, twice, before he squirted beads of cum onto Chung Myung's body, covering him in a mess of white.

When Chung Myung opened his eyes again, he was met with a gorgeous sight. A handsome brat was on top of him, throwing Chung Myung a pleading gaze

Although Tang Bo struggled to hold back, he patiently waited for Chung Myung’s permission each time. A side that Chung Myung found endearing and he raised his hand to caress that yearning face.

Tang Bo's eyes blinked slowly, leaning in Chung Myung's touch and as if that wasn't enough to drive Chung Myung crazy, he bent over and kissed him deeply.

"Enough," Chung Myung pushed him away half-heartedly. 

"Shall I do it, then?" Tang Bo purred huskily, pressing the tip of his penis against Chung Myung's sweaty entrance.

"Do whatever you want," Chung Myung’s words were simple, but his eyes held so much emotion, it was almost as if they spoke louder than anything he could say.

They told Tang Bo that he wanted to be fucked.

They wanted Tang Bo's cock inside until he was dripping with cum. 

Chung Myung's entrance shivered, pushing back against his length, impatient with desire.

'Such a naughty Hyung…' Tang Bo smiled mischievously and with a satisfying pop , Tang Bo slid easily into Chung Myung.

The supple muscle clenched around him, and at that moment, Chung Myung could no longer contain himself, a deep moan resonated from deep within.

With a guttural groan, Tang Bo pushed in deeper. Chung Myung was so tight and hot that he felt the urge to explode immediately, but he maintained his restraint.

With a gentle yet firm hold on Chung Myung, he anchored himself on his lover's shoulders and pulled out completely before sliding back in.

Beneath him, Chung Myung shifted restlessly, his fingers delicately ventured towards the area that had long been left unattended. His breath came out in rasping moans as Tang Bo pounded into him, the man’s pelvic bone bumping his prostate over and over again, hitting the sweetest of spots.

Soon, his hips met Tang Bo’s rhythmically, lifting up to meet each thrust, intensifying the friction between them.

"Agh! Agh!" Chung Myung started chanting almost like a mantra.

The tingling sensation coupled with the warmth of being filled made him feel like his whole world was bursting into a kaleidoscope trance.

"Myung-ah, Myung-ah!" Tang Bo rocked back and forth, calling out his lover's name repeatedly.

Wrapping his arms around Tang Bo, Chung Myung pulled him closer and they shared a heated kiss.

Tang Bo felt himself getting close and pulled back to ask his lover one last time.

"Chung Myung-ah, will you bear my child?"

Chung Myung hid his face in the crook of Tang Bo's nape as his fingers scratched the firm back of Tang Bo.

"I don't like repeating myself," He whispered with false irritation, sounding more timid instead. "Do whatever you want."

With his consent, Tang Bo gave one last thrust and let go, filling Chung Myung with hot cream. 

As their halves remained locked, sweat trickled down their bodies. Tang Bo collapsed on Chung Myung's heaving chest, his own breath struggling to catch up.

"Hyung-nim, that was….you're amazing, as always." Tang Bo settled with his ear over Chung Myung's chest, listening to the wild thumps of his heart.

Panting for air, Chung Myung lifted his hand to press it against his lips. “Shut up.”

Tang Bo laughed dizzily, sitting up to look at his lover. “You’re adorable.” He cupped Chung Myung’s face, beginning to litter it with tender kisses, the soft touches tickling Chung Myung’s skin and igniting a warm fuzz in his chest.

“S-stop!” Chung Myung grabbed his partner’s shoulders, pushing him back. “I’m serious. If you don’t stop, I’m going to strangle you.”

"Jokes on you, I would thoroughly enjoy that." Tang Bo chuckled smugly.

"Crazy weirdo," Chung Myung sent him a revolted glance.

Tang Bo feigned innocence with a dainty shrug, a sly smile playing at the corners of his lips.

A moist splotch grew more pronounced as Tang Bo eased back, leaving mostly his tip remaining inside before grabbing one of Chung Myung's legs and throwing it over his shoulder.

"Waitwaitwait!" Panic rose in Chung Myung’s tone. “We’re doing it again?”

Blinking inoffensively, Tang Bo propped the leg to sit comfortably on his shoulder. "Didn't I say we have to repeat the process a few times?"

"I thought you meant for a few nights, not one after another!" Chung Myung protested weakly, looking down with horror as Tang Bo’s erection stood ready to fuck him once more.

"You can't blame me, it's all for our baby." Tang Bo winked seductively. "I'll do everything, just relax."

With a resigned huff, Chung Myung laid back down on his side, leaving his legs completely in Tang Bo’s care. 

Tang Bo sighed lustfully, relishing in his control over his lover's body, uttering honeyed promises that he would grant him sensations surpassing any previous bliss.

He pressed back inside, pushing out some cream with squirts that sprinkled cum with each thrust. 

Tang Bo pumped with long, dragged yet hard jolts, lazily grinding his pelvis into Chung Myung’s, drawing out sweet, loud gasps and moans that bounced off the walls and ceiling, echoing in Tang Bo’s ears.

His long nails dug painfully into Chung Myung’s buttocks, and Tang Bo was almost sent over the edge by that voice alone.

As he fucked, his motions became less controlled, sloppy, soggy sounds ringing throughout the room. Their bodies began to move together as if one, until eventually, both succumbed to the pleasure and exploded simultaneously.

Their fluids dripped out onto the sheets below, mingling with the sweat of their hard work.

Not yet fully satisfied, Tang Bo repositioned Chung Myung on his belly, never once pulling out so as to not let his seed go to waste.

"I'm too full…"Chung Myung whined wetly, exhaustion seeping from his voice.

Tang Bo leaned over Chung Myung’s back, trailing light kisses over his nape and murmuring incoherently about how well he was doing. 

He used one hand to grope at the swordsman’s breasts, while the other searched for Chung Myung’s hand, entwining their fingers tightly.

“One more,” he whispered feverishly in Chung Myung’s ear, his pulsating cock sinking deep within while his fingers played with Chung Myung’s nipples.

“Uwaahh… hh…” Chung Myung trod on the edge of unconsciousness, nearly lost in white ecstasy.

"Ah—" With a yelp, Tang Bo abruptly stopped. "Hyung-nim?"

It took Chung Myung a moment to realize they had stopped, and even longer to register Tang Bo calling him.

“Hmm?” Chung Myung hummed sleepily, his mind foggy with post-orgasmic haze.

A sheepish and apologetic smile stared down at him.

"I forgot to give you the pill."

Chung Myung, in his state of post-nut clarity, took a moment to let the words sink in...

.

.

.

"YOU WHAT—"

For the first time ever, everyone could agree that Tang Bo truly deserved far more beatings than what he received that night.

Chapter Text

It took Tang Bo 4 days of slavery to gain Chung Myung's forgiveness.

And 6 more days of "hard work" for the seed to germinate.

"It worked! Hyung-nim, we're going to have a baby!" Tang Bo lit up like a child being handed a gift.

"I don’t feel any different," Chung Myung replied, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

Tang Bo took his hand and guided it over Chung Myung's belly. Sure enough, there was a small bump atop his abs.

"Are you sure I’m not just getting fat?" Chung Myung asked, aware that he'd been abusing his privileges in the Tang Clan. With his lazy lifestyle, it was actually a wonder how he’d managed to stay in top shape so far.

"I’m sure," Tang Bo reassured him. "A fat belly is softer due to being well, fat. During pregnancy, the body expands to make room, so when you press down, it feels firm."

Chung Myung appreciated Tang Bo’s thoroughly explanations, but it still felt hard to believe. He knows he agreed to this, but there's still some apprehension tensing his muscles.

Is this really happening? Is he even capable of carrying a small one unscratched and healthy? He doesn't want to name the feeling that buzzes in his gut right now, but he's pretty sure it's akin to dread.

Tang Bo was lost in his own fantasies, either oblivious to Chung Myung’s inner turmoil or dismissing it as mere skepticism. He seemed happy too, and Chung Myung couldn’t bring himself to burden him with his concerns.

"Also, the baby will probably develop faster than normal," Tang Bo added in a soothing tone, pressing a loving kiss to Chung Myung’s palm. "But don’t worry. This Tang Bo will be with you every step of the way."

"Okay," Chung Myung breathed out, sitting up. He needed time to think things through—with a good drink in hand.

"Let's get some wine," Chung Myung licked his lips, a look of delight crossing his face as if he could already taste it.

"About that…" Tang Bo played with his fingers nervously, unsure of how he should deliver the news.

"What, we drank all of it? Then let's go out to an inn." Chung Myung impatiently tapped his foot.

"You can't drink alcohol during pregnancy."

The temperature dropped significantly, the breeze blowing colder than the winds of the northern sea.

"What?" Chung Myung asked with a blank face.

The cold, calm tone sent icy shivers down Tang Bo’s spine.

“Th-the alcohol can affect the baby and—No, Hyung-nim, put the sword down!” Tang Bo scrambled backward until his back hit the wall.

Raising his hands in defense, Tang Bo tried to reason. "Right! You're a Taoist, no? You have to set a good example—"

 "For how long?" Chung Myung demanded, still not betraying any emotion.

"Maybe 16 to 20…"

"Days?"

"Weeks."

Chung Myung smiled, but it never reached his eyes "Is that so?"

The sheat of the sword slammed down hard on Tang Bo's head, and he saw stars for the next 16 to 20 months.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

"What did he do this time?" The Tang Patriarch sighed, massaging his forehead. This all-too-familiar conversation seemed to happen every other week regarding their Dark Saint.

"He banned the Sword Saint from drinking alcohol."

"..."

"...."

The Tang Patriarch stood abruptly.

"Deploy all available resources and ensure the Sword Saint faces no future hindrances!" he commanded with urgency.

May the Great Lord protect them during these dark times.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

"Hyung-niiim…" Tang Bo groveled at Chung Myung's feet, clutching his ankles and begging for forgiveness. "Please, I was wrong! I'm sorry!!"

Chung Myung did not even spare him a glance as he watched the scenery outside while drinking…tea.

The cup cracked in his hands and he kicked Tang Bo away.

"Yah! You leech bastard, I should have never agreed to your damn plan." Chung Myung growled.

Tang Bo’s eyes widened, staring up at him like a drenched puppy abandoned in the rain.

Chung Myung shot him a disgusted look, the irritated smile never leaving his face. 

"Get me steamed buns."

The servants recoiled in shock as the Dark Saint dashed through the mansion faster than lightning, hurrying to fulfill Chung Myung’s demands.

Meanwhile, the Plum Blossom Sword Saint sprawled lazily on the couch, indulging himself in a feast.

"This would’ve gone so well with some wine..." Chung Myung sighed tragically, the disappointment palpable in his voice.

From the hallway, Tang Bo peeked around the door, his eyes wide and pitiful while nibbling on his finger.

"Tsk." Chung Myung closed his eyes, exasperated, before waving his hand invitingly "It's hot."

"Yes, Dosa Hyung-nim!" Tang Bo rushed over and fanned Chung Myung, happy to be near his lover again. His gaze strode to the bulge that had grown bigger in the past few days.

It was good that the fetus seemed to develop well, but it was a tad too fast. It was taxing for Chung Myung's body. The man ended up exhausted and hungry most of the time, and as a result, more irritated.

Tang Bo hadn’t laid a finger on him since, except for the few times he checked his condition.

"I can’t believe I miss training of all things," Chung Myung grumbled unhappily. "If Sahyung heard that, he’d cry tears of joy!"

"Do you want to stretch a little?" Tang Bo suggested. "We could go for a walk."

"I want to, but I’m always so damn tired!" Chung Myung snapped, his frustration boiling over.

"I'll accompany you, and when you get tired, I'll carry you back." 

Pondering for a moment, Chung Myung ended up agreeing with a resigned huff.

They hadn’t even made it far into the garden when dizziness hit him, and he leaned heavily on Tang Bo.

"Hyung-nim!?" Tang Bo’s voice filled with concern as he quickly guided him to a nearby bench under a tree. 

Resting Chung Myung’s head against his chest, Tang Bo wrapped his arms around him, holding him close as he waited patiently for the swordsman to recover.

There was an urge to bring Chung Myung back inside to rest on a proper bed, but Tang Bo knew it wouldn’t do him any good. He needed fresh air.

So they sat in silence, listening to the cheerful chirps of birds and the gentle rustle of leaves as a low breeze swept through. Chung Myung's chest heaved in slow, rhythmic breaths, indicating he had drifted off to sleep.

Tang Bo let him nap peacefully, gently wiping the sweat from his lover's forehead. His hand hovered for a moment before settling on Chung Myung's swollen belly, his chin resting softly atop the swordsman’s head. 

To any onlookers, it would appear that the Dark Saint was acting as a shield for the Sword Saint.

It wasn’t until nearly sundown that Chung Myung stirred in the comforting warmth.

"Bo-yah?" he murmured sleepily, glancing at the man above.

"Hyung-nim?" Tang Bo replied with a hint of concern still present in his tone.

"I’m fine now," Chung Myung assured, pulling away from the embrace, almost regretful at the loss of warmth. "I want to bathe."

"Alright," Tang Bo responded, helping him up and guiding him toward his private hot spring.

Chung Myung sank into the warm water, letting out a satisfied sigh as the heat enveloped him. Tang Bo approached from behind, setting down some bottles on the ground before gently untieing Chung Myung’s green hair tie.

Opening a bottle, he poured the fragrant contents into Chung Myung’s luxurious dark hair and began massaging his scalp.

"I can do it myself," Chung Myung protested half-heartedly, but Tang Bo was set on doing it.

"I want to do it, please."

"Ah, fine."

Chung Myung submerged half his face underwater, hiding a soft blush as he let Tang Bo wash him entirely.

It wasn’t until they lay in bed, comfortably tucked under the covers for the night, that Chung Myung finally addressed his problem. He had really tried to ignore it, but the urge returned tenfold.

Chung Myung's hands gripped Tang Bo's sleeping gown as he shyly mumbled, "Are you awake?"

Part of him wished that Tang Bo would be deep enough asleep to miss it, but unfortunately—or perhaps fortunately—that was not the case.

“Yeah,” Tang Bo replied, twisting to face him, his drowsy emerald eyes shining slightly as he blinked. “What’s wrong?”

Chung Myung stared into those eyes, feeling a rush of warmth wash over him before he averted his gaze, burrowing his head into Tang Bo’s chest. He murmured even quieter this time, “I wanna do it.”

Tang Bo blinked, rolling the words over and over again in his head, ensuring he understood correctly.

"Ah, y-yes! Sure!" 

He hadn’t expected Chung Myung to approach him first, given his anger prior days; suppose that's what the unbalanced hormones will do to you.

“How do you want to do it?” Tang Bo tried to keep his tone steady, his heart racing with anticipation.

Chung Myung grabbed his hand and led it down to his butt cheeks. "Like this is fine."

Tang Bo squeezed tentatively, gulping down his own spit as he felt the warmth of Chung Myung’s skin through the thin layer of their nightgown. It was easy to get it out of the way, the fabric sliding aside with a gentle tug.

In times like this, Tang Bo was glad that their clan had taught them to keep everything within reach at any given time. So, they could get to things quickly, although the practicality of their training now serving a very different purpose.

Tang Bo scooted closer, feeling the heat emanating from Chung Myung’s body. He leaned over and let his lips fall open, brushing them against Chung Myung’s while his hand slipped down towards the ass cracks. Chung Myung parted his legs further, inviting him without saying anything.

Tang Bo positioned his cockhead right above the entrance and pushed. There was no resistance; he simply sank in effortlessly. "Ohh!" Tang Bo moaned softly as he plunged in deeper. 

The feeling was indescribable as always, and he felt like he could stay here forever. 

"Myung-ah… you feel so good~" 

A low, positive groan rumbled out of Chung Myung’s throat, and Tang Bo pressed his hips closer.

Although it was kind of hard, maybe awkward to move sideways in bed, and the length itself could not enter fully, Tang Bo managed to shuffle over enough to slide his arm under Chung Myung’s waist and hold his lover close, propping Chung Myung’s top leg over him.

He held him tight as he started fucking him slowly, searching for that spot.

“A~aah!” Chung Myung gasped sharply, and Tang Bo knew he had found it.

The thrusts stopped, and Tang Bo used his cock to grind over the prostate, making sure the friction was as pleasurable for Chung Myung as it was for him.

They did not speak; there was nothing to say anymore. Only their gasping breaths filled the quiet night air.

To his ever-growing surprise, Chung Myung got impatient and began to fuck himself, lifting his hips off the bed to impale himself further. Tang Bo met each of Chung Myung's thrusts, humping his cock back into the tight hole.

After a minute, Chung Myung’s movements grew erratic and desperate. “Bo…” he choked out, bracing his arms against Tang Bo’s shoulders as his muscles tensed up. His body shook violently, and white strings spurted between their abs.

Tang Bo moaned quietly as he felt Chung Myung’s hot breath in his ears, keeping up the rhythm, fucking Chung Myung through his orgasm. It didn’t take long to feel his own climax approaching.

“Hyung, I’m cumming!” Tang Bo warned as always, preparing his last push before— His cock tightened painfully as he was pushed out.

"Uh, Hyung?!" Tang Bo ignored his own discomfort, trying to find what caused Chung Myung to force him away. Did he hurt him? Or—

What greeted him was ten times worse.

A devious smile crept across Chung Myung's face, his gaze radiating a burning thirst for vengeance.

"You can't cum inside during pregnancy."

The Dark Saint’s heart dropped, an ominous feeling slinking up his spine.

"Wh-What?" Tang Bo asked with a blank face, although his voice was somewhat shaky.

"It could affect the baby."

It made sense, but… why didn't anyone tell him before?!

"Fuck!" Tang Bo cursed loudly, the realization hitting him like a ton of bricks.

He did the same thing to Chung Myung, didn't he? 

Man, karma's a bitch.

Chung Myung chuckled in satisfaction as he nudged closer, wrapping his arms around Tang Bo and kissing his cheek before burrowing comfortably in the man's nape.

"Good night!"

Tang Bo laid down soulless. He knew this couldn't be compared to what Chung Myung went through when he was denied wine, given the swordsman consumed it like water.

Didn't mean his pain hurt any less.

"Hyung-niiim," Tang Bo wailed, grief overwhelming his words, "Don't leave me like this, please!!"

His cock stood stiff and sad, lamenting at the interruption.

“Spare some mercy?” Tang Bo sniffled.

 "Hmm?"

Chung Myung opened an eye and sighed, taking pity on little Bo.

"Haah, fine."

His hand slid down to the waiting erection and started stroking it lazily, the warmth of his touch like a balm to Tang Bo’s aching need.

Squelch noises mixed with Tang Bo’s sweet, moist moans, coaxing Chung Myung into putting in more effort.

Every few strokes, he gave it a squeeze and shifted the angle slightly. Then he sped up, jerking Tang Bo off, his hand slipping in the wetness that already covered his fingers and dick, making it easier for the strokes to be smoother and faster.

Tang Bo pushed his hips into Chung Myung’s hand, feeling his balls draw up tight as Chung Myung stroked him harder.

"More, Hyung, more!" Tang Bo cried out desperately, "I’m gonna—"

His cock spasmed, and he came with a hoarse groan, shooting cum in the air that sprayed everywhere. He twitched and whined, feeling a bit disappointed that it didn’t take longer, but the pleasure was satisfying nonetheless.

Tang Bo collapsed down with a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Hyung-nim."

"Ugh!" Chung Myung used Tang Bo to wipe his hand, feigning disgust.

Tang Bo smiled and pulled the cover back over them, tucking Chung Myung comfortably in his arms.

"Aah! I love you so much!" he squeezed Chung Myung tightly before easing his grip.

"Yeah, yeah," Chung Myung dismissed him, whispering inaudible words for normal people.

But Tang Bo could hear them perfectly.

"I love you too, damned brat."

Chapter Text

"I miss Sahyung…"

An involuntary sigh escaped Chung Myung’s lips, and that was all Tang Bo needed to spring into action. Within moments, plans were being laid, and a brand-new carriage was being built from the ground up.

It had already been seven weeks, and Chung Myung's belly now stuck out like a sore thumb. Though some of his symptoms had become easier to manage, they had also multiplied. 

What had begun as mere hunger, fatigue, and dizziness had escalated into bouts of nausea, relentless backaches, cramps, and the occasional unsettling numbness.

No way he's walking to Mount Hua in that condition. Tang Bo made sure of it, hiring the best craftsmen to create a sturdy new carriage, acquiring the steadiest horses, and securing the most skilled coachman.

It was a luxury fit for royalty—the kind of treatment that even an imperial prince might envy.

"Just get me there in one piece," Chung Myung muttered at the sight of Tang Bo’s over-the-top preparations, as he was gently helped into the carriage.

He settled into the plush cushions, his hand instinctively resting on his belly. The steady creaking of the wooden wheels and the rhythmic clopping of hooves offered a brief moment of comfort, though his mind soon drifted away—to Mount Hua.

It had been too long since he’d seen Chung Mun and the others. While he often traveled, he’d never been away for this long. A small part of him wondered if they missed him as much as he missed them.

Oh, there's also that…

Tang Bo glanced at him, sensing the shift in his mood. “Something wrong?”

With a contemplative gaze, Chung Myung found himself reflecting on a memory that suddenly resurfaced. 

"You know… I uh, still haven't told Sahyung about the baby…"

Tang Bo blinked but quickly smiled, his voice soft with reassurance. "Then this is the perfect time, isn't it?"

"Yeah….." Chung Myung is glad he's in a carriage, otherwise, he doesn't think he could enter the gates himself like this. It might be just baseless worry, so he doesn't warn Tang Bo.

Ah, maybe he should have.

"Myung-ah, how much did you laze around? Just look how fat you've become!" Chung Mun scolded. "I told you to train, you brat!"

"I'm not fat…" Chung Myung wanted to defend himself, but Chung Mun scoffed.

"You think my eyes are for decoration?" Without hesitation, he reached out and grabbed Chung Myung’s ear.

"Ack, Sahyung!"

Before the scolding could escalate further, Tang Bo quickly stepped in, pushing Chung Myung behind him protectively. "Wait, Jangmun-in!" His voice was urgent, but polite. "He’s telling the truth!"

Chung Mun raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t like the Dark Saint to lie so shamelessly, so he paused, waiting for an explanation.

"He's pregnant."

"..."

Chung Jin, who had been quietly observing from the background, promptly dropped his books.

Chung Mun blinked, unsure if he had heard correctly.

"Sorry, what?"

"I've made a pill that could get men pregnant!" Tang Bo exclaimed proudly.

"Wait, no—really?" Chung Mun turned to Chung Myung, half-expecting a joke.

"Told you I'm not fat.

"..."

Chung Jin dashed over to inspect Chung Myung’s belly. He poked it lightly, then blinked in surprise. "It’s really firm, Sahyung!" His expression was a mixture of concern and disbelief.

Chung Mun, still processing, rubbed his temple. "So…this pill?" He sought one more confirmation.

"Yes?"

"Does it, uh, act alone?"

"Ah, no. It needs a male partner."

"Right, a partner."

?

"Who's…the other?"

"Me, of course." Tang Bo stuck out his belly, proudly declaring his relationship with Chung Myung.

"..."

…..

"Chung Jin," Chung Mun's tone sounded a bit off as he called his Sajae's name. "Take Chung Myung to the medicine hall."

"Yes, Sahyung."

"I’ve been examining him daily, there’s no need—"

Before Tang Bo could finish, Chung Jin raised an arm between him and Chung Myung, his expression oddly hostile. His usual calm demeanor was replaced by a stare that had a sharp edge to it.

"Uh?"

"Dark Saint… Tang Bo, may we have talk?" Chung Mun asked with a strange smile that did not reach his eyes. "In private."

It did not sound like a question, nor a suggestion.

"Sahyung?" Chung Myung approached Chung Mun cautiously.

"It’s… fine, Myung-ah," Chung Mun said, his hand gently patting Chung Myung’s head. His tone was too soft, too controlled. "I just want to talk."

Then why do you look like you’ve seen the Sapa murder king?

"Okay…" Chung Myung wasn’t convinced, but he allowed Chung Jin to gently tug his sleeve, leading him away.

The door clicked shut behind them, and the atmosphere in the room shifted as the temperature plummeted. An icy shiver crept down Tang Bo’s spine.

"J-Jangmun-nim...?" Tang Bo stammered, suddenly feeling like a mouse in front of a tiger.

He had always thought that Chung Myung was the scariest thing he’d ever faced.

That is, until today.

Huh. Guess that’s the difference between the chick and the hen.

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

"I find it hard to believe as well," Yoon Seo, Mount Hua's eldest medical ward Samae, confirmed the pregnancy.

"That fucking snake—!" Chung Jin punched the wall with a loud crack. If it was his hand that cracked, it did not matter at the moment.

Yoon Seo, unfazed, kept her attention on Chung Myung. "How are you feeling?" She pulled out a sheet of paper, pen poised to take notes.

"I'm alright right now."

"Right now?"

"Yeah, sometimes I feel dizzy, or hungry, or tired, or all three…" There were some others too, but Chung Myung stopped before Yoon Seo could break her pencil. "Uh, Samae?"

"Nothing… So, how did that— how was your stay at the Tang mansion?"

"Tang Bo took really good care of me, don't worry!" Chung Myung offered quickly, trying to ease the tension.

The mere mention of Tang Bo's name caused Chung Jin to jolt, his fists clenching tighter. "Care… care he says…"

"...Did Sajae finally lose a screw?" Chung Myung watched as Chung Jin stood there, deep in thought, looking like he was contemplating murder.

"No, Chung Mun Sahyung isn’t enough—I need to have a word too!" Chung Jin growled, storming toward the door.

"Chung Gong! Chung Hwa! Don’t let him leave!" Yoon Seo shouted. Instantly, the two appeared, grabbing onto Chung Jin with swift, well-practiced movements. It was as if they had trained their whole lives to restrain people.

"No! Let me at him!" Chung Jin thrashed angrily.

"Uh, Chung Jin Sajae?" Chung Gong blinked in confusion. He had grabbed instinctively, but now realized who he was holding.

"Not Chung Myung?" Chung Hwa asked, just as surprised.

"No, but these yanbangs…" Chung Myung growled.

Yoon Seo approached, pulling out a suspiciously dangerous-smelling pouch. "Here. Use this."

Chung Jin squinted at it. "He's a poison master, this won’t work."

"Ah, right."

"Wait, why is Chung Myung so...fat?" Chung Gong suddenly asked, confused.

Chung Jin grabbed both Chung Gong and Chung Hwa by their collars, yanking them close to whisper something urgently in their ears.

Chung Myung sat there, bewildered, as his Sajils' expressions morphed from disbelief to sheer rage.

"Death."

Chung Gong?

"Not enough! We can't let him die that easily."

Chung Hwa?

What are these brats talking about?

"Don’t worry, Sahyung! We’ll take care of it for you!"

Finally, Chung Myung snapped, throwing a hand out to hit both of them. "The heck are you talking about? Caaaare? Youuuu?"

Just as he was about to unleash a torrent of grievances, a loud rumble from his stomach interrupted him, echoing through the room.

"Are you hungry, Sahyung?" Chung Jin asked, his demeanor turning tender as he looked back. "What do you want to eat? Tell this Sajae and I'll prepare it for you."

Given the delicious meals Chung Jin usually made, Chung Myung had no inclination to question the sudden offer. "Then, grilled pork ribs!"

"Alright, alright" Chung Jin pushed Chung Myung out before turning to whisper, "Get the chains out."

"Jin-ah?"

"Nothing, Sahyung. Pork ribs you said, right?"

"Yeah."

Chung Jin managed to prepare the ribs in a remarkably short period, complementing them with a variety of side vegetables.

"Sahyung, sahyung," he said as he plopped down next to Chung Myung. "If anyone makes you unhappy, just come and tell me."

"Yah, this brat too? If that happens, I'll beat them up first!"

"I know," Chung Jin said, leaning onto Chung Myung's shoulder. A warm smile spread across his face. "I’m— we’re glad you’re back."

For a moment, Chung Myung was caught off guard.

“Yeah, yeah. You act like I’m on my deathbed or something,” he grumbled, though his tone lacked its usual bite. “You’ll see, I’ll be back to beating you all senseless in no time.”

Chung Jin laughed, though it came out softer than usual.

At that moment, a familiar cool breeze swept through the room, prompting Chung Jin to sit up and close the window. As he did, he noticed a mass of disciples gathering outside.

“Chung Jin Sajil, we heard about Chung Myung! Is he alright?”

“Sahyung, you’re back! How could you not come to see us?”

"Did that… Tang do anything bad to you?"

"Sahyung, I got you some mooncakes!"

"I got you some good wine, from Xi'an!"

"You idiot, he can't drink that!"

"Ah, right…"

Were seven weeks really that long of a time? Everyone in the sect seemed to go crazy!

They were being overly nice, showering him with treats, and even accepting hits without complaint.

Ah, wait.

Hehe!

Did they miss him that much?

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

It had only been three days, but Chung Myung was already spoiled enough for a lifetime.

Just… where had that leech gone?

Even his Sect Leader Sahyung had come to greet him.

“Do you really have to leave?” Chung Mun asked, disappointment evident as he gently combed through Chung Myung’s hair.

"Yeah, it's better for the baby." Chung Myung informed sadly. He, too, yearned for more attention from his martial brothers.

"Then we'll have a carriage ready for tomorrow."

"By the way, have you seen that Tang brat?"

Everyone listening seemed to jolt.

"What for?"

"He hadn't checked me for a while, and I'm worried about the baby."

"Can't Yoon Seo check you instead?"

"I don't mean to insult Samae, but I don't think she knows enough for this."

"I see…"

A disheartened sigh escaped Chung Mun as he turned to one of his Sajaes.

"Let him out."

The Sajae threw his arms sourly. "Man, I didn't even get my turn." He grumbled before leaving somewhere. "I'm still putting fish in milk."

??

Mysteriously, Tang Bo reappeared the next day with a limp and disheveled clothes.

"Are you ok?..." Chung Myung greeted him.

"Hyung-nim, remind me to send out a marriage proposal once we get back."

Despite their relationship, they never married. They didn't think it was needed. The fact they stayed was more than enough proof of their love.

On the bright side, Tang Bo gets to call Chung Myung "Husband". You know what, this is a win in his book, he'll take it. Totally worth the 'hassle'.

"Ah, did Sahyung scold you about that?"

"You knew?"

"I was often punished by having to listen to Chung Jin's Taoism lectures, but I've ignored many of the rules, I don't know why Sahyung would choose this one to enforce."

“I should get some books on Taoism too…” Tang Bo mused, massaging his aching backside

"I didn't know your sect had a prison underground."

"It's for the evil martial artist, I keep telling them we should just kill them instead."

"... Let's just go back."

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, you had cravings that were more horrendous than anything they could cook. That fish with milk thought…"

"What?"

"No, nothing…"

The farewell with the disciples was heartwarming, and filled with genuine care and well-wishes.

"Myung-ah, stay healthy, alright?"

"Sahyung, don't forget to write!"

“Eat more leaves and duck meat instead of pork!”

"Do you need more money?"

"Sahyung, if the Tang bastard touches you, kill him."

Ah, not the last one.

As the carriage rolled away, Chung Myung waved enthusiastically until it was no longer visible from the sect.

Tang Bo gazed emptily out of the carriage window, his mind still lost in thought.

"Bo-yah?"

The man in question focused on him then— sniff.

"Hyung-nim…"

"Why are you crying…?"

Tang Bo took Chung Myung's hand, kissing it gratefully.

"Thank you for being so gentle with me."

???

“Did you also drink something weird—”

"Chung Myung?"

The swordsman's owlish eyes made Tang Bo forget about his own pain and he jumped over to Chung Myung, inspecting his belly.

"What's wrong? Does anything hurt?"

"Bo-yah…" There was a slight tremor in Chung Myung's voice. "I think the baby kicked."

Tang Bo’s heart raced as he brushed his fingers over Chung Myung's belly, holding his breath and waited.

Thump.

A sharp gasp escaped Tang Bo as he met Chung Myung's eyes and they shared a moment of disbelief.

Tang Bo chuckled gleefully, his worries melting away. The baby was alive and healthy—and given the early situation, really lively too.

He pressed his lips gingerly against the smooth swell of Chung Myung's belly, intertwining his fingers with the swordsman's hand.

The Sword Saint blushed as he let out a breath, leaning back into the cart's pillows. The baby’s kick had stirred something in him—a mix of fear and excitement. Yet, beneath it all, there was something odd, something new.

But it was a good feeling that pleasantly wrapped around his heart.

Chapter Text

Tang Jo Pyung strolled through the hallways with a spring in his step. He was finally going to see the Sword Saint again! It felt like ages since he’d last visited, with the esteemed elder seemingly too busy to play with him lately.

"Elder!" he called out eagerly as he pushed open the door to the Dark Saint’s room. Oddly, the Sword Saint had been staying there too, despite the Tang family having more than enough room to accommodate him.

Well, perhaps the Sword Saint was being polite.

"Ah-Pyung?" Tang Bo looked up, pulling back from his place on Chung Myung’s lap. "Little brat, where have you been these days?"

"It's not me! You were the ones too busy to accept guests." Tang Jo Pyung pouted, crossing his arms in a huff.

"Ah, we did mention that to the elders, but..." Tang Bo shifted his gaze to Chung Myung. They didn't think that Tang Jo Pyung would be classified as a guest to be fair. 

Speaking of which…

"Sword Elder, you got fat!" Tang Jo Pyung exclaimed in surprise. "Did you eat too many sweets?"

Chung Myung’s brow twitched. “Bah, this brat too?”

Tang Bo chuckled softly. "He’s too young to understand, Hyung-nim." With a gentle smile, he beckoned the child closer. "Ah-Pyung, come here."

Small footsteps creaked on the wooden floor as Tang Jo Pyung trotted over. Tang Bo took the boy’s hand and placed it gently over Chung Myung’s belly, which shifted slightly beneath his touch.

"The elder's hungry?"

"Pft—no," Tang Bo snorted, struggling to hold back a laugh.

"My tummy only moves when I'm hungry," Tang Jo Pyung peeked up at the Sword Saint curiously.

It was still Tang Bo who explained.

"There's a baby in there—a really lively one!"

"Eh!? Sword Elder ate a baby?" the boy blurted out, eyes wide with shock.

Chung Myung clutched his mouth, stifling a laugh, while Tang Bo shook with silent laughter.

"Yeah," Chung Myung's gaze darkened. "There was a really bad child, so I ate him."

Tang Jo Pyung’s gaze grew even wider, his small hands still pressed to Chung Myung’s belly as if waiting for more movement. "A really bad child?" he asked, his voice wavering with concern. "I’m a good child, aren’t I?"

Tang Bo ruffled the boy’s hair, smiling at his innocence. "The baby’s not from eating anyone. It's just growing in there."

Tang Jo Pyung tilted his head. "Like Mama?"

Tang Bo nearly burst into laughter again, his shoulders trembling. "Something like that,"  he said, shooting Chung Myung a knowing look.

Chung Myung playfully smacked him on the back of the head, "Want to sleep on the couch tonight is what I'm hearing?"

“No, no, Hyung-nim!” Tang Bo protested, rubbing his throbbing head where a bump was quickly forming. “I’m a bad child, so you have to eat me—Ack!”

“Stop spouting nonsense,” Chung Myung muttered, ignoring Tang Bo’s whining while gently stroking Tang Jo Pyung’s messy hair. "Kid Pyung, don't listen to this idiot."

The young boy blinked up at them, used to the common violent banter. "So… when’s the baby coming out?"

Tang Bo, having finally recovered from his earlier ‘injury,’ leaned over with a grin. "Why? Eager to meet your new little cousin already?"

"My cousin?"

"Yeah, or if you want, you can think of them as your sibling."

Tang Jo Pyung’s eyes widened in surprise, the new information hitting him like a bolt. "My sibling?" he repeated, his voice filled with awe. He stared at Chung Myung’s belly as if the baby might pop out at any second.

"I don’t mind," Chung Myung added with a small shrug. "But will your elders be okay with this?"

It was a valid concern. The Tang Council of Elders had been unnervingly quiet about the whole situation. While they couldn’t exactly do anything to stop it, they were hardly the types to stay silent either, especially when the Dark Saint was involved. They always had something to complain about when it came to him.

Maybe they were afraid of what the Sword Saint would do—or worse, the entire Mount Hua Sect. It is currently one of the main pillars of the great sects. Offending it would be like digging your own grave and jumping in it.

"I don't know," Tang Bo exhaled sincerely. "But we'll figure it out when the time comes. The Patriarch’s on our side too."

Obvious as it was, the Tang Patriarch had a soft spot for Tang Bo. After all, they grew up like siblings.

"Alas, Ah-Pyung, after the baby comes out you will have to take good care of it, alright?" Tang Bo said with a serious expression, although there was an undertone of fondness.

"I will!" Tang Jo Pyung promised, as if making an oath. "I'll teach it everything I know!"

"That’s my favorite nephew!" Tang Bo beamed, ruffling the boy’s hair.

"I'll teach it to run and hide too, so we can run away together when Elder gets mad."

"Oi!" Chung Myung shot a mock glare at Tang Bo, who was snickering beside him.

"Don’t you both have business to attend to?" Chung Myung grumbled, though the corners of his mouth twitched with amusement.

"I finished mine early this morning," Tang Bo replied, all too pleased with himself.

"Me too! I got my training done fast so I could come and play!" Tang Jo Pyung added, bouncing with excitement as a sudden thought crossed his mind. "Wait, let me show you what I made today!"

The child rummaged through his sleeves and, with a beaming smile, held out a wooden spinning top for Chung Myung and Tang Bo to see. It was simple yet expertly crafted, the kind of toy that only a child could appreciate with such pure joy.

“Look, look!” the boy insisted, setting the top on the floor and giving it a quick, practiced spin. It whirled smoothly, balancing perfectly as it danced across the wooden surface. “See? I made it myself!”

Chung Myung watched the top with an approving nod. “Not bad, kid. Spins pretty well.”

“I’m more impressed that you made this behind the elders’ backs instead of daggers.”

"Those old men aren't as sharp as the Sword Saint."

"Fair enough," Tang Bo replied, sitting up straighter. "Since we’re all free, why don’t we play something?"

“Hmm?” Chung Myung hummed, intrigued. He had been feeling rather bored lately.

"How about Garakji chatgi (가락지 찾기) but instead of rings, you have to find a small wodden box?" Tang Bo proposed, mischief sparkling in his eyes.

"Can I go first?" Tang Jo Pyung jumped up excitedly.

"Too bad! I've already hidden it," Tang Bo chuckled, a sly smile spreading across his face. "And whoever finds it, gets to keep what's inside and an extra wish within my powers."

Tang Jo Pyung's eyes gleamed with anticipation. "Where is it?"

"Within all my quarters."

"That's unfair, your place is too big!"

"And you have time until the sun goes down."

Chung Myung raised an eyebrow nonchalantly. "What happens if we don't find it?"

"Then," Tang Bo's eyes curved naughtily. "I get a wish from you."

It seemed like the game had been planned specifically for someone.

"Oho?" Chung Myung grinned, interested. "Alright then."

Tang Jo Pyung huffed but agreed, excitement bubbling over as he rushed out to search.

With the child gone, Tang Bo settled down next to Chung Myung, who appeared content to remain seated.

"You're not worried about what I will ask?" Tang Bo glanced curiously at Chung Myung's smiling face.

The smile on Chung Myung's face widened as he held out his palm. "Give it here."

Taken aback, Tang Bo blinked in surprise before a defeated sigh escaped him. He burrowed a hand into his sleeve and pulled out a small wooden box. "How did you know?"

"You weren’t very subtle," Chung Myung snorted in reply.

Tang Bo handed over the box, his eyes shinned with anticipation. Chung Myung inspected it closely, running his fingers over the smooth surface, noting the intricate carvings that adorned it.

“Looks like you put some effort into this, huh?” Chung Myung teased, glancing up at Tang Bo.

"Well," Tang Bo blushed softly. "I made it for you."

Finding the lock, Chung Myung opened the box and frowned at its contents. Inside lay a pair of ornately carved wooden geese, their graceful forms capturing the light in a warm glow.

Given the look in Tang Bo’s eyes, they clearly held a special meaning.

"Bo-yah… you know I'm not very knowledgeable on these matters."

“Geese mate for life,” Tang Bo mumbled, unsure himself why he got so shy all of a sudden.

Chung Myung’s heart softened as he studied the delicate carvings. “So, you’re saying we’re stuck together for life? Is that the deal?” His voice carried a teasing lilt, but his expression was sincere.

Tang Bo nodded and averted his eyes down, waiting for the final decision. But soon, a pair of hands cupped around his face and his gaze was forced onto Chung Myung's cherry eyes.

Once again, they spoke with their intensity alone and the world around them faded into the background. Tang Bo felt his heart race, his breath catching in his throat as Chung Myung leaned forward.

They kissed many times before, but this one was somehow different—heavy with the weight of a promise.

It was soft, lacking the usual lust, yet still warm.

While their lips broke apart, their foreheads remained pressed together, sharing warmth until the sun dipped below the horizon. Just then, Tang Jo Pyung scurried back, looking defeated.

The two elders sat on the bed in a comfortable embrace—one appearing to doze off while the other basked in blissful dizziness.

“Great Uncle?” Tang Jo Pyung whispered, careful not to wake the Sword Saint.

“He got tired from searching,” Tang Bo explained with a lighthearted smile.

"Mama got tired fast as well when she had a belly that big," Tang Jo Pyung nodded in understanding and left them to rest for the night.

Tang Bo watched him go with caring eyes, but his thoughts turned to the future child he and Chung Myung would have.

"Taoist Hyung, what are you going to use your wish for?" Tang Bo asked, fully aware that Chung Myung was awake the whole time.

"Do I need to?"

“This is a one-time opportunity. Are you sure you want to waste it?”

"As if! You already do whatever I tell you."

"Ah, you're right."

But now, another question lingered in Tang Bo’s mind. "Then why did you accept the deal?"

Chung Myung opened his eyes and looked at him as if he were stupid.

“You were stumbling around as if you wanted to give me something for days now,” he explained, a hint of irritation in his voice. “I thought it was a good opportunity to grab it myself.”

"I don't know why I hesitated so much either," Tang Bo replied regretfully. That wasted time could've been used cuddling Chung Myung instead.

Chung Myung leaned away and sat up to change for the night. "And my Sahyung?"

"I sent the letter the moment we returned, should get the reply soon."

Tang Bo did not forget the talk with Chung Mun. He was grateful the man was a Taoist; otherwise, he’d probably be in hell by now.

He approached Chung Myung from behind and wrapped his arms around the man's underbelly, right above Chung Myung's…

“We’ll have the best wedding and after-wedding, my dear future husband,” Tang Bo flirted, planting a soft kiss on his nape.

“Shameless bastard…” Chung Myung muttered, pressing a hand to his face to hide his blush.

"How about a simple 'massage'?" That damned leech whispered seductively in his ear.

"...Fine."

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

Tang Bo's hands trembled as he read the letter from the Mount Hua Sect Leader. Chung Myung leaned closer, curiosity piqued. “What does it say?”

Esteemed Dark Saint,

I'd like to respectfully inform you that we have received the marriage proposal, and upon careful consideration, we decided to decline it as the party addressed is away from the Sect at the moment.

In the Mount Hua Sect, we value our disciples' wishes, and such decisions will only be made in their presence, with their verbal and written consent.

I hope that you can give my child back patiently await the return of the disciple in question. At that time, you may formally send another letter, to which we will reply with the final agreement.

Until then, I will await your personal proposal for the intention and right to court my sect brother, as per proper customs.

— The Sect Leader of the Mount Hua Sect, Chung Mun.

"That's my Sahyung, alright." Chung Myung remarked, amusement dancing in his eyes as he watched Tang Bo sink deeper into despair.

Chapter Text

"Hyung-nim, how are you feeling?” Tang Bo asked softly as he stepped inside the room, carrying a bowl of warm water.

Chung Myung, who was buried under a mountain of blankets, peeked out slightly. 

"It hurts…"

With a pensive frown, Tang Bo placed the bowl on the table before kneeling beside the bed. "Cramps again?”

"...No," came the hesitant reply.

"Where does it hurt then? Show me."

Chung Myung's cheeks flushed, and he quickly ducked back under the blankets, disappearing from sight.

Tang Bo's frown deepened. Softening his voice, he leaned closer, trying to coax the man out.

"I need to know where it hurts so I can make it better."

"..."

"Please?"

There was a slight shift beneath the covers, but no reply. 

No refusal either.

Tang Bo carefully pulled the blankets back a little, revealing a tangled mess of black hair. A faint whine of pain escaped Chung Myung.

"Hyung-nim…" Tang Bo breathed sympathetically at the sight of Chung Myung, who had curled himself into a tight ball.

Based on the way Chung Myung's hands were wrapped protectively around his chest made it easy for Tang Bo to guess where the pain was coming from. 

Chung Myung let out another whine as Tang Bo gently pried the tense hands aside.

"It's okay," Tang Bo encouraged as he began to unfasten the robe. "It’ll all feel better soon.”

As the fabric fell away, Tang Bo’s eyes widened in shock at the sight of swollen breasts. Did his Hyung have some sort of allergy from some food? 

"Bo-ya…" Chung Myung fussed at Tang Bo, who accidentally stared for too long.

"Ah—sorry!” Tang Bo apologized hastily, snapping out of his daze as he examined more closely.

There was some weird wetness around Chung Myung’s nipples, something that didn’t look like sweat. Tentatively, he pressed just beneath the nipple, and to his surprise, a watery, yellowish liquid leaked out.

It couldn't be…

Scooping some on his finger, Tang Bo brought it to his mouth and tasted it.

"What are you doing?!” Chung Myung cried out in surprise.

It was sweet. So damn sweet.

"Hyung-nim, do you know what this is?"

Given the dumbfounded look in Chung Myung’s eyes, it was clear he was waiting for an answer while glancing at Tang Bo as if he were crazy.

"It’s breastmilk! I didn’t think it was possible!” Tang Bo exclaimed, excitement bubbling over as he rushed to note it down. "Do you think it was the pill or a body mutation?”

Chung Myung did not share his enthusiasm; he was still in pain, too.

"Ahh! I forgot. I’m sorry!” Tang Bo sat beside Chung Myung, hesitating for a moment before opening his mouth again.

"You’re in pain because your breasts are full of milk,” he explained. "The solution is simple: empty them.”

"Then what are you waiting for?" Chung Myung growled.

Tang Bo was quick to oblige, both of his hands occupying Chung Myung’s breasts as he cautiously played with the nipples.

He looked up at Chung Myung, who had his eyes squeezed shut in pain. "Do they hurt?”

"Of course they do, you idiot! Why else would I be in this mess?!” Chung Myung complained.

The Dark Saint returned to the task, gently twisting the nipples before brushing his thumb over the tips. The liquid dripped down invitingly, prompting an involuntary gulp from Tang Bo.

He wasn’t one to indulge in sweets often, but if it were this, he would greedily take another taste.

"I’m going to suck them now, is that okay?” Tang Bo asked, watching for any signs that Chung Myung might be uncomfortable with the idea.

Only a nod came from Chung Myung.

Tang Bo opened his mouth wide enough to swallow the whole nipple and began sucking. Chung Myung winced in pain and placed his hand in Tang Bo's hair.

"Slower…" Chung Myung whimpered.

Everything in Tang Bo urged him to suck more, to savor that warm, golden liquid. But he never once gave in to that thought. His tongue slowed down, while his empty hand tenderly swirled around the other breast, focusing on bringing Chung Myung relief..

As the content lessened, Chung Myung's pain faded away and instead, got replaced by a twinge of pleasure.

When Tang Bo switched to the second breast, Chung Myung pulled tighter on the hand in his hair, letting out a groan of satisfaction. Once the pain completely dissipated, Tang Bo picked up the pace, eagerly twisting and licking the nipples.

"W-wait!" Chung Myung cried as Tang Bo crawled up onto the bed and pushed him down. He lay on the bed, looking at the man who was greedily drinking his milk.

"Bo-yah…" Chung Myung called out with a moan. "They're empty already."

"Sorry, but you taste so good, Myung-ah.” Tang Bo pulled back, licking his lips with a grin. "Is it because you eat too many mooncakes?”

Chung Myung made an adorable pout at the teasing, causing Tang Bo’s heart to swell with affection.

"Tell me when they get full again,” Tang Bo leaned down and whispered in his ear, a gesture he knew made Chung Myung’s knees weak. "I’ll help you again.” He ended with a teasing lick to the shell of Chung Myung’s ear.

"Mm-hmm…" Chung Myung cooed happily.

"Alright then, get some rest.” Tang Bo slid out of bed, his mind buzzing with possibilities. He hadn’t known that breastmilk was possible; he’d have to research more about any unexpected developments.

Tang Bo made a mental note to order some silk clothes; the friction from regular fabric could irritate Chung Myung’s overly sensitive skin. He nodded determinedly and turned towards the door. "I love you, Myung-ah."

The sound of soft snoring behind him made Tang Bo pause and smile warmly. How long had Chung Myung been enduring this pain before saying anything?

But…didn't this mean the baby is coming out soon? Speaking of which, he didn't get the chance to discuss it with Chung Myung yet. 

No matter how much he stressed on the matter, the baby could only be pulled out by cutting into the abdomen. 

The thought had been terrifying at first, but Tang Bo found comfort in the fact that he would be the one to perform the procedure. His Hyung was in good hands. Still, it didn’t mean there wouldn’t be pain.

The worst part was that Chung Myung would have to stay awake during the process, using his Qi to stabilize himself. Tang Bo wasn’t willing to risk anything.

It took him two and a half days to gather his thoughts and explain the procedure as detailed as possible.

Chung Myung took it surprisingly well. 

"Ok."

"Aren't you scared?" Tang Bo took Chung Myung's hands in his own.

"Why would I be?" Chung Myung shrugged casually. "I was expecting it to go like this. How else would the baby come out?"

"Besides," Those cherry-red eyes met his for a brief moment before darting away.  "I trust you."

Tang Bo's eyes shined, and he pressed a tender kiss to Chung Myung’s knuckles. He felt an overwhelming urge to leap up in joy but restrained himself—it would ruin his cool image. He'll save that for later.

For now, he's glad Chung Myung's not in any distress, and he was happy to be able to ease his pain.

.

Fuck, he shouldn't have dismissed it that easily.

It was deep into the night when his eyes fluttered open. Something felt really wrong, though he couldn’t pinpoint why or what.

Until he heard a sniffle.

Chung Myung lay curled up on the bed, his face buried in a pillow, crying silently.

"Hyung-nim?!" Tang Bo jumped up, hovering his hands uncertainly above Chung Myung. "Are you in pain anywhere?" 

Swallowing hard, Chung Myung tried to stifle his sobs, but they only came back stronger. 

Tang Bo rubbed soothing circles on his trembling back. He knew his Hyung well—these weren’t the typical whimpers of pain. No, he had never seen Chung Myung cry like this from discomfort.

Meaning something hurt really bad, or…

"Hyung-nim…" Tang Bo called softly. "Look at me."

Instead, Chung Myung pressed the pillow tighter against his face in response.

Tang Bo let out a low sigh, scooting closer to wrap his arms around Chung Myung's waist and pull him into a comforting hug. 

"Take deep breaths," he murmured tenderly. "Try not to breathe shallowly." He waited with infinite patience, hoping to help his lover calm down.

After a long moment of heartbreaking sobs, Chung Myung gradually slowed to small sniffles and occasional shivers. A few minutes later, he finally pulled the pillow down and turned toward Tang Bo, revealing tear-stained cheeks and red, puffy eyes.

"Oh, Hyung-nim…" Tang Bo felt his heart shatter at that gaze. "What's wrong?"

"B-Bo-yah," Chung Myung choked out, burying his head in Tang Bo's chest. "I-I'm scared."

Tang Bo's mind turned cruelly unkind. "Of the procedure?" 

Dread pooled in his stomach as he asked, but his worries were quickly alleviated when Chung Myung shook his head, rubbing it against Tang Bo's torso.

But if it wasn't that, then…

"Myung-ah, you want the baby… right?" Tang Bo's voice trembled, fearing he might have pressured Chung Myung into having the child.

Chung Myung shook his head once more, and Tang Bo let out a sigh of relief.

He didn’t say anything else, simply waiting for his Hyung to continue. After a few moments of silence, Chung Myung spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. "I-I don't know how it'll be like."

Tang Bo hummed curiously, urging him to continue as he pulled Chung Myung even tighter, hoping his hug would provide some comfort.

"I can't— I don't know how to care for it," Chung Myung's words came out muffled. "I only know how to beat people. What if I hurt the baby too? What if it gets sick?"

Tang Bo felt his chest clench. He had never considered that Chung Myung might fear for the child like this.

"You'll be great, Hyung. And I'll be there too." Tang Bo soothed him with the softest voice he could muster. "We'll figure things out together."

A small smile blossomed on Tang Bo's lips as he felt Chung Myung nodding against him. He gingerly kissed the top of his lover's head.

They found themselves enveloped in a peaceful stillness. Chung Myung's body radiated so much heat that Tang Bo was almost lulled into slumber.

"Bo-yah?" A small whisper roused him.

"Yes?" Tang Bo replied sleepily.

"...I want honey tea"

"Alright," Tang Bo rose to fetch the requested drink, yet he didn’t move very far from his spot. 

"Uh, Hyung-nim?" he chuckled softly. "I can't go if you don't let me."

Chung Myung timidly glanced at him, clutching Tang Bo's robe tightly.

"...."

Crossing his arms, Tang Bo contemplated whether to abandon the mission or leave Chung Myung alone like this

Neither was a viable option.

"Alright then," Tang Bo flexed his fingers then slid his arms under the covers, and scoped Chung Myung up with a slight struggle.

A small surprised sound escaped Chung Myung, but he settled comfortably in Tang Bo's arms, allowing the man to carry him to the kitchen.

If any servants noticed them, none commented.

Chung Myung's ponytail swayed gently, and Tang Bo only now noticed it.

"Did you get up to make tea yourself?"

"..."

"You know you can just wake me up anytime, yeah?"

"...I can do it myself."

"I know, but I want to do more for you. So please, don't suffer in silence."

"It was just some damn tea! I shouldn't— ...."

"Myung-ah, am I not reliable?"

"Bo-ya… you shouldn't say that when your hands are shaking so much."

"I'm sorry, Hyung-nim, but I'm literally carrying two people at once."

"Tsk, weak-ass leech."

Tang Bo settled Chung Myung on a bench in the kitchen, cocooning him in blankets. He felt proud of himself as only his lover's head was visible.

The kettle shrieked, announcing that the water was hot enough, and he started preparing the drink while the Sword Saint watched him with a cat-like, expectant glare.

He could swear he saw a tail wag when he handed Chung Myung his beverage. The adorable man pursed his lips as he blew on the hot tea, faint curls of steam dispersed before he leisurely started to sip. 

"Was it good?" Tang Bo asked with a fond beam as his lover nodded in satisfaction.

"Good. Now…" Tang Bo set the cup aside, took Chung Myung's hands in his own, and locked his gaze with Chung Myung’s.

"Myung-ah, my love, my plum."

Chung Myung tried to avert his eyes, but Tang Bo's emerald gaze held him in place with its intensity. He could feel so many emotions reflected in those eyes, and for a moment, he wondered if this was how Tang Bo usually saw him.

"I love you and care about you, and it kills me to see you cry," Tang Bo confessed with utmost sincerity. "But it also makes me happy to know that you can let it out around me, that you can rest on my shoulders."

"Don't think too much about it. It was just stupid nonsense—"

"You know you're being a huge idiot right now, right?"

"..."

"No, let me rephrase that. You are the biggest idiot in the world, possibly the—"

"Do you want to get hit?"

"Wh-what I mean is, I'm an idiot too. I started this whole thing without thinking it through to the end. The burden you have to carry, the pain you’ll endure... I focused too much on the results and neglected the process, just like back then.

But I know I'm not the same, not since you literally broke my head. You laze around and wander like a hooligan—no, listen, let me finish.

I lived in a cold world, striving only for power. I didn't even notice the walls I built myself until you broke them down with those blossoms of yours. I have never once forgotten that moment.

I followed you to learn how to grow stronger, but instead, I learned to love. A sip of wine, a good nap under the spring breeze, and… you.

I just wished to return that to you, and I was wrong for thinking that. There’s nothing to return; there’s only something to share.

So, Hyung-nim, will you share sorrows and joys with me?"

".....You yap too much."

"And you listen each time."

With a sigh, Chung Myung opened his mouth, then closed it again, hesitating as he searched for the right words.

"I'm not good with feelings and I suck at expressing them. I know my sect brothers love me, but I can see they struggle to understand. Then you came and leeched off me, which really annoyed me at first.

But I got used to it—and even started to enjoy your company. I thought you would leave at some point so I tried to remain detached. But you stayed, and more importantly, you understood me. I could say just a few words, and yet we’d have entire conversations.

I didn't realize I was in love until you asked me.

You spoiled me and patiently waited for my decisions. I could feel your devotion and it scared me, worried that I wouldn’t be able to give anything back.

Guess you were right, I am an idiot.I won’t give you anything back—instead, I’ll try to share it with you."

A familiar phrase lingered in the air...

Ah, weren’t those similar to wedding vows? The two Saints had once thought of them as empty words, spoken merely for tradition.

And maybe they were at some point, but now the original meaning finally found its way back to them, unraveling like a long-forgotten melody.

'We should've done this a long time ago .' Tang Bo thought bitterly, feeling a familiar wetness in his eyes. There was something else he needed to clarify.

"Do you know how I know you will be a good father?"

Chung Myung's eyes were naked with a vulnerability that Tang Bo felt honored to witness. 

Kneeling by his side, Tang Bo took a deep breath. "I’ve seen how you are with Ah-Pyung—you're gentle and patient. You engage in his games and always ensure he doesn’t hurt himself. I know you’ll be an amazing father to our child too."

The clouds shifted, allowing a soft blue glow to fall over Chung Myung, accentuating his most gorgeous features. Tang Bo could see the unwavering trust in his words reflected in Chung Myung’s expression.

Bathed in a luminous glow, he appeared as the sovereign star of the universe, casting all else into a veil of shadow. 

There was no other moment better than this.

Alone in this bright night, there was only Chung Myung, Tang Bo, and the moon.

"Thirteenth disciple of Hwasan, Plum Blossom Sword Saint, Chung Myung, once this is over, I, the Dark Saint of the Tang Clan, Tang Bo, will take you to Mount Hua and make you my husband.”

It was not a question, for he already knew the answer.

Thump

Blood rushed to his ears and Tang Bo felt like he could not breathe. 

The moon bestowed an ethereal luminescence upon reality, conjuring a picture-perfect mirage that mesmerized his gaze.

Chung Myung stood with his arms outstretched, a wide, tender smile curved his eyes with adoration. Like a man entranced by a siren's song, Tang Bo leaned forward, surrendering his entire being to his love.

Firm, warm arms wrapped around his shoulders, and the world slowed to a crawl. Yet, in the blink of an eye, he felt a soft, smooth weight against his lips. Instinctively, he parted his mouth, allowing a sweet, moist lump of muscle to explore him freely.

Tang Bo's senses flared to life, experiencing every delicate motion with vivid clarity, stirring a delightful richness that tasted like pure honey.

A hushed whisper caressed his ears, sending a surge of heat that flooded Tang Bo's mind, leaving him in a blissful haze.

"Take me back to bed, husband~ "

He obeyed in a trance-like state. 

Despite the weakness in his knees, he advanced with steady steps, lovingly escorting his soulmate into the intimacy of their chamber.

And he wonders, with Chung Myung nestled against his chest, could he hear the erratic pounding of his heart?

Chapter Text

Late afternoon brought a quiet calm as most adults finished their work and relaxed in their chambers. So it was unusual for someone to knock at the door.

Even less so for it to be Tang Bo.

"What brings you here at this late hour, cousin?" Tang Juan, Tang Bo's younger cousin, calmly looked up from his tea.

"Why are you talking like one of those old geezers?" Tang Bo joked as he sat down uninvited and poured himself a cup.

Tang Juan let out a weary sigh. "I don’t know what the elders are thinking, but at least they'll stay out of your way."

"They better, if they know what's good for them," Tang Bo huffed, downing his tea like it was alcohol. Chung Myung's influence was showing.

"Anyway, that’s not why I'm here." Tang Bo's tone shifted, carrying a hint of importance. "The baby will be born soon."

"I still can't believe you actually pulled off something like that," Tang Juan praised, unable to hide a touch of admiration. "So?"

"You know what the process will be like, right?"

"I'm not an idiot."

"I know. That's why I'm here."

Tang Juan already had an inkling as to why Tang Bo was here.

"I'm going to need you to help me."

"Aren't you capable enough alone?"

"I don't want to risk anything."

"Then why not ask the Patriarch? He wouldn't refuse you."

“You know as well as I do that you’re the best in medicine here—besides me.”

"..."

Tang Juan went quiet, pondering for a moment. There was an earnest look of fear he'd never seen in his cousin before. Finally, he sighed, a glint of mischief entering his eyes. 

"...Fine, but not for free!"

"I didn’t expect you to," Tang Bo chuckled. "So, what does this revered Saint owe you?"

Tang Juan leaned forward and whispered as if asking for something forbidden. "Let me have a look at that pill recipe."

With a suspicious gaze, Tang Bo pulled out a scroll from his sleeve. “You’d better keep this to yourself. No sharing, no selling.”

"Of course~" Tang Juan replied smoothly, hungrily devouring the information and process written down.

Curiosity was a predominant feature among the Tangs.

“I’ll need everything prepared in two weeks. That's how soon I predict Chung Myung will be ready.” Tang Bo announced.

Tang Juan, still drooling over the scroll, gave a distracted nod, barely noticing when Tang Bo slipped out of the room, leaving him alone to savor his prize.

***

Once upon a time…

"Fuck!"

Chung Myung’s voice echoed through the halls as he cursed, his breath ragged and face slick with sweat. He cursed the day he ever agreed to this.

Tang Bo darted around the room in a frenzy, his mind racing as he grabbed the supplies they’d need. “Where is Tang Juan?!” His eyes flickered in every direction before he spotted his cousin rushing in.

"I'm here—" Tang Juan barely managed to speak before Tang Bo threw him a case of needles and a few pouches.

“Hold this! And where the hell did I put the mugwort?” Tang Bo muttered, frantically rummaging through his things. “This baby wasn’t supposed to come this early…”

“I’ve got some in my sleeve—”

Without hesitation, Tang Bo’s hand dove into Tang Juan’s sleeve, retrieving a pouch of powdered mugwort. He quickly mixed it into a cup of warm water and returned to Chung Myung’s side.

“Here, drink this,” Tang Bo coaxed, holding the cup to his lips. Chung Myung drank hastily, face contorted with pain and frustration.

Tang Juan emptied his hands and rushed with proper instruments—a curved knife, sharpened to a fine edge, and various cloths to tend to both the mother father and the child.

With a steadying nod from Tang Juan, Tang Bo turned to Chung Myung, his expression a mix of determination and quiet fear.

"Hyung-nim, you must not fall unconscious, alright?"

"You… agh!" Chung Myung cried in pain. “You’ve explained the process a hundred times already. Just get on with it!”

"Okay… here we go," Tang Bo took in a deep breath and felt himself calm down. He cleared his mind and began.

Tang Juan watched, mouth agape, as Tang Bo made the first incision, his movements precise, his blade moving with a gentleness that seemed almost foreign to the renowned Dark Saint. The cut was quick, clean and didn't cause much blood to spill, all the while hearing Chung Myung's anguished scream.

He could feel the Qi flowing into Tang Bo's blade, a steady pulse of energy that never wavered. The Plum Blossom Sword Saint stood composed, his eyes squeezed shut as he seemingly meditated through the pain. The room was thick with tension, the scent of herbs mingling with the metallic tang of blood.

As the incision widened, a fresh wave of crimson spilled forth, yet remarkably, the muscles didn’t spasm; it was as if Tang Bo were slicing through butter. With deft hands, he carved a large square from Chung Myung's abdomen, precisely where the baby was nestled.

Before the muscles even parted,, the baby's cries were already audible, a sound of life that filled the room with hope.

Truth be told, Tang Juan wasn't strictly necessary in the room—his role limited to handing over tools and supervising in case anything went awry.

It was going smoothly so far, and Tang Juan found himself awed with each passing second. Belly cutting was one of the most challenging procedures, requiring both steady, swift hands and a strong patient. And most medical practitioners lacked experience.

Yet here he was, witnessing it unfold live, performed by the most skilled doctor. Was it wrong to feel excited at this moment?

The muscles split open, and Chung Myung let out a cry of pain before steadying himself with deep breaths. In one fluid motion, Tang Bo reached inside, pulling the newborn free. He wiped the blood from the child’s face with a cloth, casting a quick glance at Tang Juan.

It was a moment of instant understanding before Tang Bo passed the child to his cousin and rushed back to Chung Myung's side, whose breathing had become labored.

The Dark Saint began stitching the muscles and skin back together and the blood flow gradually slowed down. Now that the pressure was off him, Chung Myung started to lose consciousness.

Tang Bo felt his heart drop. He quickly moved to support Chung Myung's head, cradling him in his arms. The Dark Saint cupped his hand against Chung Myung's cheek, gazing into those dark eyes.

"Don't fall asleep yet, Hyung-nim. Just a bit longer."

Chung Myung, pale and exhausted, managed a faint nod.

With the wound closed, Tang Bo concentrated all his Qi on helping Chung Myung heal internally while Tang Juan tended to the infant.

"You did well," Tang Bo praised, striving to keep Chung Myung aware. "I'm proud of you." He continued to stroke Chung Myung's hair soothingly.

After what felt like an eternity, Tang Bo noticed Chung Myung's breathing steadying, his wounds healing at a rapid pace. 

He was out of danger.

Sighing in relief, Tang Bo collapsed next to the bed.

"Congratulations," Tang Juan said, wanting to applaud, but his arms were occupied.

"How… how's the child?" Tang Bo huffed.

"Normal, alive," Tang Juan replied with a shrug. He wasn't going to offer much explanation knowing very well that Tang Bo would want to check the baby himself either way.

As predicted, Tang Bo recovered quickly and reached out for the infant, but Tang Juan pulled it out of reach. "Clean yourself first, and your partner too."

He had a point.

With a nod, Tang Bo began wiping away the blood with water from the tub. He took another cloth to do the same to Chung Myung. He tenderly cleaned up the blood and sweat from the man's forehead, chest, neck, and abdomen.

Chung Myung looked like he would fall asleep any moment now, but he endured, as if waiting for something.

Tang Bo frowned at the slight reddish hue on the tips of Chung Myung's ears.

Is Hyung embarrassed to ask to see his own child?

"We're clean now," Tang Bo announced, excitement creeping into his voice as Tang Juan handed him the baby.

A burst of happiness exploded within Tang Bo, and he felt his chest swell with pride as he looked at the infant that now rested in his hands. He cradled it close and walked over to Chung Myung to show him.

"It kinda looks like you, Hyung-nim!" Tang Bo teased, pretending to pout. "I hope at least the eyes are mine."

"Yah! Why are you acting as if you made it?" Chung Myung shot back, wanting to hit him but instead reached for the child before abruptly stopping.

……

"What's wrong, Hyung-nim?"

"It's smaller than Ah-Pyung."

"Pfft— Of course it is, it's a newborn."

"I— I know that! But…" Chung Myung's fluster increased and his hands fidgeted nervously. He appeared as if he wanted to hold the baby, yet something restrained him.

"Then… is this your first time seeing an infant?"

"I've seen other people with babies, but those were bigger too."

"Naturally. Most people keep their infants inside until they're at least a few weeks old, for safety."

"..."

"Hyung-nim?"

A few words spilled from Chung Myung, barely above a whisper.

"What if I crush it?"

Tang Bo's eyes softened with sympathy.

"You won't. Just hold it."

"W-wait, I'm not ready—"

But the baby was already in his arms, and Chung Myung fumbled to keep it secure.

It was a comical contrast of sizes between his large hands and the baby's tiny form. The infant felt warm to the touch, soft and fragile, and a protective instinct washed over Chung Myung.

Steeling his nerves, Chung Myung ran a finger over the soft, damp hair and felt the smooth skin beneath. A smile crinkled his eyes when the baby cooed and snuggled closer to him.

"Seems like the baby knows who made it too." Tang Bo chuckled.

There was something incredibly precious about the sight of his lover and child, both alive and happy, right in front of his eyes.

Plop!

"Yeah… I— Bo-yah!?" Chung Myung exclaimed, reaching out with a worried hand to cup Tang Bo's cheek. "Why are you crying?"

Chung Myung's sudden panic startled the baby, prompting it to cry and causing Chung Myung to freeze. He felt overwhelmed.

There were two babies crying in his arms now.

"Yah, what do I do?" Chung Myung asked frantically, turning to the only reliable person in the room.

"What's with this guy…" Tang Juan shook his head helplessly and gave Tang Bo a gentle kick to the head. "You're worrying your partner, idiot."

"Ah! I'm sorry Hyung-nim!" Tang Bo finally snapped to his senses.  "Give the baby to me," he requested softly.

Chung Myung did not refuse and carefully handed the infant over to Tang Bo.

The Dark Saint held the infant close, swaying gently in a soothing rhythm. "Shh, there there~" The baby's cry subsided as it snuggled into Tang Bo's warmth. 

"Is the… will the baby be fine?" 

"Of course, it's your sprout," Tang Bo grinned, though his eyes watered again.

"O-oi!" Chung Myung's voice shook with worry.

"I'm sorry…" Tang Bo whipped his eyes with his sleeve. "I'm sorry Hyung-nim, I'm just so happy ."

With that reassurance, Chung Myung let out a short sigh and stood up… or at least tried to.

"Ow—"

"Don't move!" Tang Bo exclaimed anxiously. "The cut isn't properly closed yet."

"Then come closer."

Tang Bo approached with worry etched on his face. Just as he was within reach, Chung Myung gently grabbed him and pulled him into bed beside him. Despite the tenderness, Tang Bo still yelped in surprise.

He was scared the baby might start to cry again and— it was giggling.

The infant was laughing.

Tang Bo bit his lip against the overwhelming rush of emotions, while Chung Myung breathed in disbelief. 

He… no, they really had a baby.

"I love you," Tang Bo whispered, snuggling closer. "I love you so much, Hyung-nim!"

Chung Myung wrapped an arm around him, stroking Tang Bo's hair affectionately. "I know," he replied softly, leaning his head against Tang Bo's as they admired their child. "Me too."

Tang Juan took that as his cue to leave the couple—no, the new family have a moment for themselves.

Surely the hardest part was over, and they hadn’t forgotten anything, right?

Chapter Text

"Hyung-nim, what do you think about living in Yunnan?"

"What?"

"You're right, it's not far enough." Tang Bo hummed thoughtfully, neatly folding a letter from the Mount Hua's Sect Leader before hovering it over a candle and watching it burn. "Nowhere is far enough."

"..."

Chung Myung blinked blankly at him, gently cradling the baby in his arms. The infant suckled milk peacefully, blissfully ignorant of Tang Bo's smiling empty eyes.

"Ah-Ya," Chung Myung murmured to the child, "never grow up like your father, alright?"

The infant cooed in response, as if understanding.

"Good." Chung Myung praised proudly.

Tang Bo, however, wasn’t so easily dismissed. He slumped down behind Chung Myung and wrapped his arms around him with a playful pout. “Hyung-nim, she's had enough milk. How about me? I want a taste too—”

"Bo-yah," Chung Myung's smile didn't reach his eyes, instead it sent a shiver down Tang Bo's spine. "Get your hands off me."

The Dark Saint obliged. 

“Hyung-nim, you’re scarier when you don’t get outright angry…”

It was impressive how quickly the Sword Saint learned to restrain around the baby as yelling always ended up with the infant in tears. Contradictory, hitting others seemed to entertain her.

Either way, Chung Myung had every right to be irritated.

First, he couldn’t drink a single drop of alcohol until his body fully healed. And secondly, when the baby first opened her eyes, there was something… unusual about them. Thankfully, nothing harmful as assured by Tang Bo who spent days researching while Chung Myung took care of the baby.

Which did tire the Sword Saint a little.

The baby’s eyes were indeed peculiar. They were mostly the same reddish hue as Chung Myung’s, but a portion of her left eye had a splash of emerald green.

Some claimed the baby was “touched by spirits,” while others whispered that she possessed an extraordinary perception. A few even murmured that it might be an ominous sign, yet no one dared say it outright.

None mattered to them as much as its impact on the child. But so far, her vision responded normally to all stimuli, and Tang Bo’s research revealed that others with similar traits led ordinary lives.

The difficult part had been about her future. Since the baby was born strangely a female, the couple agreed it would be best for her to grow up freely in Mount Hua. Also, there was an…unusual discussion about her name, in which Tang Bo did not have as much say as he thought he would.

Chung Myung was drawn to the idea of blossom sprout, so he settled on "Ya" (芽), meaning "bud" or "sprout."

And since she will likely be part of the"Myung" generation, so Chung Myung reasoned that incorporating it in her name would be wise. Although "Chung" was technically his family name, Chung Myung himself felt no particular attachment to it. Besides, it would feel strange to refer to her as Chung Myung-Ya.

The only option left was to take Tang Bo's family name, and Chung Myung pretended to not notice a happy tail wag. Hence, Tang Myung-Ya (당명芽).

Suspiciously, even the Council of Elders seemed more than pleased with the name…

"When can we go to Mount Hua?" Chung Myung whined. He missed his home.

"A newborn should stay indoors for at least 100 days, so probably after her Bai Ri Yan celebration,"

"That's too long…"

"It's for her safety."

"Fine." Chung Myung sighed, resigned.

Chung Myung's dark spots under his eyes did not go unnoticed by Tang Bo, who felt a painful pang of guilt.

"Should I call for the nanny?" Tang Bo asked, but he was already on his feet.

"She might need changing too," Chung Myung yawned.

"The nanny will tend to her. Don't worry, the Tang nursery is the best in the world."

"Good, because I don’t like changing her," Chung Myung scrunched his nose at the memory.

Tang Bo could empathize with that. On the bright side, Tang Myung-Ya did not cry as much as babies usually do, but it was still unfamiliar territory for the two Saints. Reading books can only take you so far; nothing can truly prepare you for the on-hand experience.

"She'll soon be old enough to start eating food as well." Tang Bo glanced over at his partner, who tiredly snuggled on the bed, now that the infant was away.

Chung Myung hummed lazily into the pillow, his eyes growing heavier by the second.

"It’ll be fine," Tang Bo whispered, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. "Rest well."

He pulled up the blankets to tuck Chung Myung in, who murmured something unintelligible as he drifted into sleep. Tang Bo lingered for a moment, smiling fondly before stepping back to close the curtains, leaving only the dim light of a single candle.

Settling at his study table, he took up a brush and parchment to reply to Mount Hua's Sect Leader. With a sigh, he rested his head on the desk. Eventually, as the candle’s last light faded, he too drifted off into a quiet slumber.

***

"Sahyung!?" Chung Myung’s voice shot up in surprise at the sight of his sect brother, Chung Mun, standing in the doorway. "What are you doing here?" he asked excitedly, casting a quick glance at Tang Bo, who only shrugged.

"Wasn't me."

"I just wanted to see how you're doing," Chung Mun said, petting Chung Myung's hair affectionately. "Where’s my nephew?"

"She’s sleeping," Chung Myung replied, a hint of confusion at his brother's tone. "Should I bring her?"

"If it’s no trouble," Chung Mun smiled kindly. "The others are here too."

"Alright," Chung Myung agreed, heading toward the nursery. "I’ll bring her to the guest hall."

Chung Mun's kind creepy smile didn't falter as he was left alone with Tang Bo.

"We'll talk later."

"A-alright," Tang Bo gulped down his soul which threatened to escape. He could clearly see from where Chung Myung had inherited that perfectly controlled, slightly unnerving smile.

***

"Chung Myung?" Chung Mun called out, his expression puzzled as he held the baby.

"Yes, Sahyung?"

"A-ah… not you…."

Chung Jin blinked down at the child with a thoughtful expression. "She resembles Sahyung a lot."

Chung Mun chuckled softly, shaking his head in disbelief. "You haven't seen Myung-ah as a toddler. They're practically identical, save for this green patch."

"It's nothing harmful or wrong," Tang Bo interjected, despite the murderous glances from the disciples. "All that worries me is that she doesn’t cry as much as babies typically do."

"Ah, that's normal for Chung Myung's bloodline," Chung Mun remarked.

"Oh."

Both men exchanged a knowing glance at Chung Myung. He was rather loud and angry most of the time, but he rarely cried. Even as a child, whenever he was on the verge of tears, he would just get angry and yell instead.

"Hey, Sahyung," Chung Gong sneaked up behind Chung Myung, alongside a few other disciples. "How is it like to be a mo—ack!"

Chung Myung grabbed his face and shot him a death glare. "Huuuh?"

"Father! I meant to say, father!" 

"I'm curious too…"

"Same here, Sahyung."

"Actually, me too…"

"Why are you all so shy?" Chung Jin stepped forward, parting the group of disciples. "Sahyung, stop being so quiet and tell us already!"

Chung Myung was taken aback at the overly curious and excited gazes his Sajils sent him. Surprisingly, he doesn't exactly hate this…

"If my Sajils ask me that earnestly, how could I not answer,"  he said, sticking out his belly in pride. 

Even Tang Bo blushed timidly as Chung Myung started to narrate their domestic journey, deliberately leaving out some… particular details, of course.

"Must be nice having a nanny," one of the disciples grumbled. "I had to change mine almost every day."

"Maybe I should get one too for when mine arrives…" another disciple mused.

"Eh? Arrives?"

"Ah, it was meant to be a surprise. Actually, my wife is expecting too!"

"Ooh, congratulations!"

"Many years ahead, brother."

The banquet felt just like Mount Hua and Chung Myung smiled as his Sajils chatted lively about their own lives. It was nice, really, that despite being a cut-sleeve, he had never been pushed aside. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he truly appreciated his sect brothers.

It will be great for her to grow up there, among her fathers and uncles. His daughter will surely love Mount Hua too.

"Alright, then! Let's raise a toast to our future!" 

"And to our families!"

Chung Myung shot a cute glance to Tang Bo, who nodded in approval.

"Then let’s drink!" Chung Myung shouted excitedly.

Even Tang Myung-Ya clapped her tiny hands in enthusiasm.

There was only the Cheong generation, without any of their Sasusk to supervise, so they drank to their hearts’ content, their laughter filling the air until they blacked out.

"Hyung-nim," Tang Bo grabbed Chung Myung's elbow gently.

"Hm?" Chung Myung's hazy red eyes turned to him. He was fully drunk, and despite being capable of easily cleaning the alcohol from his body, he was the type to enjoy to the end, even the sobering phase.

"Let's go sleep," Tang Bo urged, tugging at his sleeve.

"N-no, hic! I'm waiting for Bo-yah…"

"I'm right here Hyung-nim."

"Bo-yah?" Chung Myung furrowed his brows, squinting at Tang Bo as if inspecting him closely.

Tang Bo coughed a bit of blood at that adorable, intense gaze.

"Ye-yes, that's me, Hyung-nim."

Chung Myung's face shifted from confusion to suspicion, then to sudden realization, and finally settled into an expression that Tang Bo couldn’t quite describe—but it was undeniably sweet. Grabbing Tang Bo's sleeve, he allowed himself to be gently pulled away, careful not to trip over the unconscious disciples strewn across the floor.

Normally, Tang Bo would’ve just left him with the others, but right now, Chung Myung needed to sleep in an actual bed... No, that was just an excuse. If he were being honest, Tang Bo might’ve been a drunk out of his mind too, and just wanted to cuddle.

The most surprising part was that Chung Myung obediently followed.

"W–hic! Where's Ah-Ya?" Chung Myung clung to Tang Bo as they stumbled along the way. He leaned heavily on his partner for support, unable to walk straight.

"The nanny took her before Jangmun-in joined us."

"I want to see her…" Chung Myung whined, struggling against Tang Bo’s hold.

Tang Bo reflected for a moment, and the mere thought of their daughter stirred a strong urge in him to see her as well. "Alright, let's go."

When they reached the nursery, Tang Bo carefully arranged the blanket and toys in the crib, while Chung Myung clumsily knelt beside their daughter to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Sleep well, Ah-Ya..."

Afterward, Chung Myung let himself be led away once more, his steps unsteady but willing.

Back in their bed, Chung Myung plopped face-first into the mattress, lying still as if dead to the world. With a sigh, Tang Bo began undressing them both to prepare for the night, until a hand suddenly stopped him.

"Hyung-nim?" 

"Bo-yah, I feel strange..."

Tang Bo's vision spun from how hard he whipped his head with concern.

"What's wrong? Does anything hurt?"

Chung Myung guided Tang Bo’s hand to his abdomen, and Tang Bo lightly traced the faded scar. It seemed fully healed, but there might still be some lingering discomfort.

"Inside..." Chung Myung whimpered softly.

"Does it hurt inside?"

Chung Myung shook his head, his face twisted with frustration as he struggled to find the right words. It seemed like even he couldn’t fully understand what was wrong.

It could be the alcohol still affecting him, or perhaps the aftereffects were finally taking their toll, but Tang Bo didn’t want to dismiss anything concerning his lover ever again. So he waited patiently.

"...empty?"

"Huh?" Tang Bo was left dumbfounded.

"I d-don't know," Chung Myung hiccuped. "It just feels like that."

A rush of heat crept into Tang Bo's already drunken mind. "Should I fill you up?" he blurted out without thinking. But the contemplative look on Chung Myung's face had him stiffening instantly, which was hard to miss since they were both nearly naked.

In his defense, they haven't done it in quite a while due to… obvious reasons, and also, their robes weren't even tied!

Tang Bo gulped loudly at his own thoughtless question.

"I didn't mean it like that, Hyung-nim. I'll just get some food or…"

Chung Myung silently pushed Tang Bo onto the bed and climbed on top of him. Tang Bo was caught off guard when Chung Myung straddled his hips against his erection, causing Tang Bo to groan loudly.

"Bo-yah… fill me up."

Tang Bo's mind went blank as a strong hand wrapped around his cock, and Chung Myung lined himself up. All Tang Bo could do was hold onto Chung Myung's hips, feeling the intense pressure of entering such a tight spot.

"Hyung-nim, did you get tighter? You're squeezing me too hard," Tang Bo whined, pleasure coursing through him.

"Did your body forget me or something?" Tang Bo laughed drunkenly. "Maybe it’s been too long?"

"Bo-yah."

"A-ah~ Hyung-nim, I can feel you…"

"Hush," Chung Myung growled softly, pulling Tang Bo's lips into a kiss.

Tang Bo hummed, overwhelmed by the sensations. He thought Chung Myung only wanted to kiss, but Chung Myung quickly slid down, taking him inside until he was buried deep. They both moaned at the feeling of being completely joined again.

The sex was a bit sloppy at first, as Chung Myung kept sliding off every time he tried to move, but there wasn't enough blood in Tang Bo's brain for him to think about anything except how damn gorgeous that man was.

"Aah, ah, ah…"

Chung Myung seemed to enjoy the movements as well as he groaned and thrusted his hips against Tang Bo. They rutted like animals. Well, it was more Chung Myung who used Tang Bo like a beast. Not that he didn't enjoy it too, but Chung Myung was firmly in control, pushing Tang Bo deep into the mattress.

Tang Bo didn’t even have to move; Chung Myung rode him with determination. They were both drunk and lost in pleasure.

"Chung Myung… Ch— Myung-ah~" Tang Bo moaned his name repeatedly. "F-fuck, I-I'm gonna—Mm—ahh!"

"Ah—oooh!" Chung Myung shouted as a wave of burning heat crept up his stomach, and he clenched down tightly, as if not wanting to let anything escape.

At the sudden clamp, Tang Bo shot another burst deep within. "Ha…ah…"

Their heavy breaths mingled as Chung Myung leaned on his chest for a break, while his sweat trickled down onto Tang Bo.

When their tongues found each other, they exchanged a messy kiss. 

"I've got plenty more," Tang Bo panted eagerly, his face flushed from excitement and effort.

Chung Myung's lower body dripped with cum as he raised his waist slightly, only to slam it back down, provoking an embarrassing wet squirt. Yet, there were no brain cells left to care, as the air filled with the sound of their bodies slapping together.

Tang Bo hadn't realized until now how hot Chung Myung looked while milking his cock for all it was worth. There was a slight tinge of guilt for lying there uselessly, but that thought was quickly chased away by the overwhelming feeling of being used like a mere sex toy.

With the last shred of control he had, Tang Bo grasped Chung Myung's shaft, stroking him in rhythm with each wet clap. 

And with that, Tang Bo slipped into paradise, both body and mind.

***

In the morning, Tang Bo woke up with his head splitting and his lower half sore. It took him a moment to piece together how he ended up in this state, and a huff escaped his mouth when he did.

Chung Myung was snoring blissfully on his chest, while Tang Bo's poor, sad dick was fully soaked, still submerged inside his lover, maybe even marinated in his own cum.

A brief memory reminded him how painful that would feel later, but the sight of Chung Myung's satisfied face was more than enough to endure such hardships. Well, at least he looked cute while asleep.

"Pff—" Chung Myung didn’t even pretend to hide his laughter as Tang Bo struggled to sit up.

"You evil Taoist, I can't feel my legs because of you!" 

"And you hate it?" Chung Myung asked, a smug grin spreading across his face.

Tang Bo scoffed in disbelief but couldn’t refute it. Even if he ended up crippled from Chung Myung riding him, he wouldn’t regret a single moment.

Chung Myung's eyes softened as he scooped Tang Bo into a princess hug, still seated on the bed. He looked at him with a playful glint in his eyes, his voice laced with mockery, but there was an undeniable affection in his tone.

"Does my baby need some care?" he teased.

Tang Bo exploded in violent crimson, covering his face with both hands, though he peeked through his fingers, utterly embarrassed.

"Is this some sort of revenge?"

"Maybe."

"Can I also suck your nip—"

"Don't push it."

"Okay."

Despite the playful rejection, Tang Bo was more than content to remain in Chung Myung’s arms, gently swayed back and forth. It was a habit Chung Myung had picked up while rocking their daughter, Tang Myung-Ya, to sleep.

As Chung Myung softly kneaded his legs, warmth and sensation gradually returned. Tang Bo rested his head against his partner's shoulder, his arms winding around Chung Myung's neck, drifting in a light doze—not exactly sleeping but not fully awake either.

They managed to spend their morning alone, in peace—a quiet moment they both cherished and were grateful for, and yet, perhaps, a little too quiet for comfort.

But Chung Myung's responsible and dependable Sect Leader, Chung Mun was also here. So long as he was around, nothing too disastrous could happen… probably.

Chapter Text

"Sword Saint Sahyung gave birth to her—she's our sect's disciple!" a Mount Hua disciple shouted, unsheathing his sword.

"She was born in the Tang territory and carries the Dark Saint's blood—she's clearly a Tang!" retorted a Tang family member, drawing his daggers.

Chung Myung and Tang Bo sat comfortably at a distance, far enough not to hear the heated exchange but close enough to observe the fighting ring.

"Who do you think will win?" Tang Bo asked, glancing at Chung Myung, who was leisurely chewing on jerky.

"Ha?" Chung Myung's eyed him sharply. "My Sajae, of course. Isn't that obvious?"

"Right," Tang Bo conceded.

"Sahyung," Chung Myung called out to Chung Mun, who sat serenely between the two Saints, "what's the purpose of these fights, anyway?"

"Just a few friendly spars," Chung Mun replied calmly. "To solidify… our relationship."

"I suppose that makes sense," Chung Myung mused, not feeling the need to question it further.

The fights wrapped up quickly, with Mount Hua dominating over the grumbling Tangs, who insisted they would have won if only they had been allowed to use poison.

Chung Myung yawned, suddenly aware of how late it had gotten. 

"I should go feed Ah-Ya," he said, standing up and walking away.

Tang Bo wished he could follow his lover, but Chung Mun's imposing presence kept him rooted in place.

"Dark… No, Tang Bo."

"Y-yes, Jangmun-in?"

With a heavy sigh, Chung Mun propped up his head on one hand. "Myung-ah is happy."

"Yes? I mean, I hope so."

"It wouldn't be fair to either of you if I were to intervene."

Tang Bo listened calmly, or so he appeared outward. Inside, he was bursting with joy. This was a blessing, right? Was Chung Mun really giving his permission for Tang Bo to take Chung Myung's hand?

"I don't mean to force anything," Chung Mun continued, his tone darkening slightly, "but… the world will criticize you."

"I know," Tang Bo replied, lowering his gaze regretfully. "We didn’t care much about that before, but now, we have a child…"

"Mount Hua will always stand by Chung Myung's side," Chung Mun declared with pride.

Tang Bo swallowed his emotions, then said earnestly, "I can’t speak for my family, but I’ll always be by Hyung-nim's side too."

Chung Mun nodded in approval. "Let’s hold the wedding after Tang Myung-Ya's Bai Ri Yan celebration. Mount Hua will help with the preparations."

Tang Bo rose and bowed lowly. "Thank you so much, Jangmun-in. I promise to take care of Chung Myung."

Chung Mun's serious stare met his. "You’d better."

***

Heavy thumps echoed behind Chung Myung before Tang Bo squealed with delight, throwing himself into a hug. Chung Myung stumbled forward but didn’t let go.

"Hyung-nim, Hyung-nim, I got his blessing!" 

"For real?" 

"Yeah!!" Tang Bo added enthusiastically, giving him a loud smooch on the cheek.

Chung Myung flushed as a light feeling filled his chest. "Sadly, I won't get to see you tied up like a dog again."

Tang Bo froze for a moment, narrowing his eyes at Chung Myung. "You knew, you damned Taoist?!"

Chung Myung whistled innocently, but Tang Bo wasn't one to back down easily.

"You know," Tang Bo’s smile shifted into a flirtatious grin, "You can still see me tied up like a dog in bed."

"I'll think about it."

The mere thought of it made Tang Bo’s breath hitch, excitement rushing down to his private parts.

"Wait, really—"

"And now I regret it." Chung Myung suddenly spun on his heel, walking away with swift steps.

"Ah, no, Hyung-nim! Wait—please!" 

***

Following another lively night of drinking, the Mount Hua disciples were getting ready to depart, sending their best wishes to Chung Myung while proudly bragging about their success in securing the baby's heritage.

"What?" Chung Myung blinked blankly at his Sajaes.

"Don't worry, Sahyung, we won custody over Tang Myung-Ya."

"Me and Tang Bo already agreed to make her a Mount Hua disciple anyways…"

"..."

"...."

"We won, Sahyung!"

A loud cheer erupted from the group, which only made the Tang family members bite their sleeves in frustration.

Chung Myung scoffed playfully, puffing out his chest with pride. "That’s why I already put ‘Myung’ in her name."

"...."

"Uh, Sahyung…" Chung Jin placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and leaned in to whisper. "The way you named her… she’ll be called Myung Myung-Ya…"

"…"

Chung Mun silently approached from the other side, placing another hand on his shoulder.

"The intention is there. Besides, it emphasizes how bright she will be, right?"

"..."

The other disciples quickly gathered around to console the youngest — yet second Sahyung of the Cheong generation.

"Just go home…" Chung Myung muttered, covering his face with both hands.

Even Tang Bo stood dumbfounded in the doorway.

Tang Myung-Ya tossed her toy aside and clasped a small hand over Chung Myung, who was sulking on the floor.

"Even you’re comforting me…" Chung Myung sighed in defeat.

"Dada is sorry, Ah-Ya…" Tang Bo stood in the corner, brooding in the shadows.

Chung Myung peeked up curiously. "What's with that speech?"

"It helps the baby learn to speak," Tang Bo explained, "Since they can't fully form words as infants, mimicking sounds is the best way."

"You're training her to call you dad?"

"Basically."

"Then what am I?"

"Umm… mo—no, why are you pulling out your sword around a baby?"

Chung Myung cornered Tang Bo and with his eyes dared him to say it to his face.

"Words, you crazy Taoist—Ack!"

Suddenly, the wall behind Tang Bo cracked, sending debris tumbling to the floor and leaving a gaping hole.

"Papa? You can be Papa!" Tang Bo ducked down, instinctively covering his head.

"Papa? I'm Papa?" Chung Myung rolled the words on his tongue before nodding approvingly. He turned to his daughter, who tilted her head like a curious marten.

"Ah-Ya, call me Papa, alright?"

"Papa?"

"..."

"..."

Tang Bo lifted his dead gaze to Chung Myung, his voice tinged with disbelief. 

"I’ve been trying to get her to call me ‘Dada’ for days…"

Chung Myung completely ignored him and crouched down next to Tang Myung-Ya, his face beaming with pride. 

"Smart brat, maybe ‘Myung Myung-Ya’ suits you after all." He ruffled her head, making the baby giggle ticklishly.

"It’s unfair!" Tang Bo pounded his fist on the ground. "It should have been me, not him!"

"Papa, papa!" The infant spread her arms, her little voice chanting cheerfully, stabbing Tang Bo's heart with each syllable.

"She's too cute…" Tang Bo rasped out in a dying tone. "You're unfair, Hyung-nim!"

Chung Myung scooped up his daughter and began tossing her gently in the air, catching her each time. Tang Myung-Ya squealed in delight, a wide smile spreading across her plum cheeks.

"You like that, Ah-Ya?"

"Eeee!" she cooed happily.

"Hmm, what should we do about that?" Chung Myung mused. "Bo-yah, our daughter wants to be a bird. Wh…" He trailed off, his gaze falling on something dead lying in a crimson puddle… Ah, no, that was his lover with a nosebleed, murmuring to himself.

"Cute… Ah-Ya and Hyung-nim are too cute…" 

Chung Myung covered his daughter's eyes, then silently left the room, carrying her in his arms.

Let's pretend we didn't see that.

They hadn’t gotten far before Chung Myung bumped into something—or rather, someone. Looking down, he met the dazed eyes of a small child.

"Ah-Pyung? Little rascal, you haven’t come to see your cousin," Chung Myung said with a smile, kneeling down and turning Tang Myung-Ya to face the kid.

"Say hello to Ah-Ya!"

Tang Jo Pyung fidgeted at the sight of the sweet baby and waved timidly. "Hello."

Tang Myung-Ya stared confusedly for a moment, before raising her tiny hand to wave back, causing Tang Jo Pyung to blush.

"Cute, right?" Chung Myung grinned. "Want to hold her?"

"Ah, can I?" Tang Jo Pyung’s eyes lit up.

"Sure," Chung Myung said, gently guiding him to cradle the baby.

"Heavy!" Tang Jo Pyung whined, though Chung Myung was there to support his hold.

"That means you’ll need to get stronger if you want to carry her."

The boy nodded seriously, determination written on his face. "I’ll become strong enough to protect her!"

But sometimes, will alone isn't enough—Tang Myung-Ya would grow muscular enough to carry him instead. But that’s a story for the future.

"Tang Jo Pyung?" A beautiful lady in a green robe called out, her presence radiating an aura of grace.

"Miss Tang," Chung Myung greeted her with a respectful nod.

"Mama!" Tang Jo Pyung’s voice was full of excitement as he glanced at his mother, showing Tang Myung-Ya, who was partially in view. "Look, look!"

"My, my!" Tang Shumin stepped closer, intrigued. "Is this yours?" 

Chung Myung nodded shyly. He had seen Tang Jo Pyung's mother before, but they never talked, much less about kids.

"I’ve heard of her, it’s impossible not to," Tang Shumin laughed in her sleeve. "Is the Dark Saint here as well…" She trailed off and Chung Myung glanced back.

"Ah, that's just a bug, don't mind it," Chung Myung said, shifting slightly to hide Tang Bo, who was crawling and peeking from behind the room’s threshold.

"Oh, I see," Tang Shumin quickly adapted and moved on.

Chung Myung fidgeted before gathering the courage to ask, "Miss Tang, you've had children? No, what am I asking, there's one in front of me…" He mumbled before raising his gaze again. "If it’s no trouble, may I ask for your advice sometimes?"

Tang Shumin smiled warmly. "Of course, feel free to drop by anytime. We could even go now, if you like."

Beaming slightly, Chung Myung bowed gratefully. Advice is best taken from experienced mothers. "Then I'm in your care."

The Sword Saint picked his daughter back up and followed Tang Shumin and Tang Jo Pyung back to their place, where they spent the afternoon discussing children over a warm cup of tea.

In the days that followed, Chung Myung would visit Tang Shumin whenever he had questions or concerns, always eager to learn from her experienced wisdom.

***

"Where's Ah-Ya?" Tang Bo asked as he entered their shared chambers.

"She's sleeping over at Miss Tang Shumin's place," Chung Myung replied, undressing for bed. As he removed his outer robe, Tang Bo stepped closer and boldly groped Chung Myung's chest through his thin undergarment.

"They seem quite full tonight."

"What are you doing, you perverted leech?" Chung Myung growled.

"Ah-Ya started consuming other foods, so I thought you might need some... relief," Tang Bo purred, his fingers deftly teasing Chung Myung's sensitive nipples.

"I can take care of it myself," Chung Myung insisted, pushing Tang Bo's hands away.

"Isn't it better with some help?"

"No, it's actually a lot faster alone."

"Then you leave me no choice."

"What are you going to do about it?"

The two powerful Saints stood frozen in a tense staring contest, neither willing to back down. After a long, charged moment, Tang Bo blinked and a smirk formed on his face.

Thud!

The Dark Saint fell to his hands and knees before Chung Myung, desperation etched on his face.

"Please, please, please, let me suck on them, a mouth— No, just a drop!" Tang Bo begged shamelessly.

Chung Myung flinched away, but Tang Bo crawled closer, groveling at his feet. 

"Please, pretty please, did I say please? I beg you!"

"No, what is this crazy guy doing..."

"Please!?"

"Shut up, you freak," Chung Myung growled, but his resolve was weakening.

Tang Bo was undeterred. He shifted his attention to Chung Myung's bare chest, his eyes fixated on the tantalizing mounds.

"Just one drop, just one— Pleaseeeee!"

Chung Myung sighed under his breath as he saw how deplorable his lover looked. Maybe Tang Bo would explode if he didn't get a single drop. That's the only explanation.

"Just don't suck them too hard…" Chung Myung opened his night robe fully and let it drop to the floor. He pinched his nipples, coaxing them to leak out a bit of the precious milk.

Tang Bo let out a little squeal of delight before eagerly latching onto one. His tongue swirled around the sensitive bud, teasing it before he suckled greedily.

"Hey, hey! Just a bit!" Chung Myung protested, trying to keep his voice down.

Tang Bo sucked harder, and Chung Myung had to wrap a hand around his mouth to stifle his moans. He panted heavily, fighting to maintain control.

 "I said not so hard—!" Chung Myung slammed his fist on Tang Bo's head, who forcefully let go with a gasp.

"Sorry," Tang Bo rubbed his head sheepishly. "I got a little too excited…"

With another sigh, Chung Myung plopped down on the bed and spread his arms. "Come here."

Tang Bo eagerly obliged, letting himself be pulled into his lover's arms. He nuzzled into the crook of Chung Myung's neck, breathing in his scent.

"Try it like this," Chung Myung gave him the green light, and Tang Bo made sure to go slower this time.

Tang Bo kissed the reddish nipple, teasing the bud before then flicking it playfully. He took a moment to lavish the same attention on the other nipple, his hot breath ghosting over Chung Myung's skin.

Chung Myung hummed with approval and his hand came to stroke Tang Bo's hair.

Tang Bo paused his ministrations to look up at Chung Myung, his hand already rubbing soothing circles on his lover's thin waist. "Should we have another child?" he asked, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"Are you crazy?" Chung Myung stared at him incredulously. "We have our hands full with this one already. Let's see how well this goes... and maybe after...".

"Alright," Tang Bo agreed with a soft smile before continuing to fumble his partner's breast and inspecting his expression closely, making sure Chung Myung was in the mood for this.

Chung Myung said that he was a pervert, yet how shameless must one be to have such an enticing body and a drunken blush that clouded his eyes with lust?

Tang Bo couldn't hold himself back from leaning down to capture Chung Myung's lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving into the Sword Saint's mouth to taste him fully.

A hand explored up Tang Bo's thigh, stroking the sensitive skin under his robes. Chung Myung traced the bulge that had been building, feeling the heat radiating from it as Tang Bo's hips bucked up to meet the teasing touch.

Chung Myung pulled back slightly, his gaze predatory as he looked at Tang Bo's excited expression.

"How long has it been?"

"I-I think about a month…"

"You should have said so earlier, leech."

"You were busy learning parenting, right?"

"During the day."

"Right, but I didn't wish to tire you out at night."

"Should I reward you, then?" Chung Myung leaned back, leaving a confused Tang Bo standing up on the bed.

"No, it's just my duty as your looo~ah~" Tang Bo moaned as a cold foot brushed against his most sensitive spot.

His mind froze. Chung Myung was giving him a foot job. Fuck. Tang Bo panted lightly, his face flushed and thighs trembling as beads of sweat slipped down his face.

"Hyu…ng-nim…" Tang Bo whined under his breath. How was he supposed to hold this in?!

Chung Myung gave him a wicked smile and added the other foot, pressing Tang Bo in between them with building pressure. The feet began to rub him harder, then faster.

"Aaah~Myuu…ung…ah!!"

Tang Bo came, unable to hold back as his load splattered all over the bed and Chung Myung.

"So messy," Chung Myung complained seductively. "You should clean it up~"

Tang Bo gulped the saliva pooling in his mouth and leaned down. Starting with a gentle lick, his tongue began cleaning Chung Myung, who sucked in a sharp breath whenever the wetness passed by a ticklish spot.

With a timid smile, Chung Myung turned around on his knees and spread his legs, offering Tang Bo a clear view of his dangling erection and gasping hole, like a fish lacking oxygen.

The Dark Saint gulped, his heart racing. "May I?"

If Chung Myung pulling his cheeks apart wasn’t enough of a sign, Tang Bo didn’t know what else would be. He reached out, squeezing the firm globes, relishing the way they jiggled under his touch, and slowly circled the hole with his tongue before pushing past the ring of muscles.

"Aa…uwaah…" Chung Myung cried out. They hadn’t used saliva for lube in quite some time, and he’d forgotten just how good it felt.

Tang Bo delved deeper, lapping and sucking, his movements growing more insistent as Chung Myung’s moans filled the room. His hands slid around to grip Chung Myung’s cock, stroking it in time with the movements of his tongue. He could feel it throbbing in his grip, thickening with each passing moment.

"Bo-ya," Chung Myung panted, his voice strained with pleasure. "I'm going to come if you keep that up."

Tang Bo pulled back, his lips glistening with saliva and other body fluids.

"Isn’t that the objective?" he replied, standing up and positioning himself at Chung Myung’s entrance. With a smooth thrust of his hips, he buried himself to the hilt inside his lover’s tight heat pocket.

Chung Myung cried out, arching his back as Tang Bo filled him completely.

"Fuck, Hyung-nim," Tang Bo croaked, starting to move slowly. "You always feel so damn tight. Does your body heal back all my hard work?"

"Mmmhh…haaa…"

Chung Myung could only moan in response, lost in the overwhelming pleasure as Tang Bo picked up the pace. The Sword Saint's ponytail swayed wildly until an idea sparked in Tang Bo's mind as he grabbed it and pulled Chung Myung's head back.

"No~ Ah, Bo-yaaaahh!" Chung Myung gasped, sticking out his tongue, struggling to catch his breath as his eyes were forcefully rolling in the back of his head. "Haah…hh…!"

His arms fell limp in surrender as Tang Bo began to pummel his prostate. Chung Myung’s muscles clenched around the thick cock, and his vision blurred with tears of pleasure. Each strike made his own cock twitch, and he could feel himself teetering on the edge of explosion.

"UwwAaah—!!"

Chung Myung came, his cock pulsating with each spurt, leaving his seed splattered all over the sheets. Tang Bo cried out as the walls clenched around him, and he shot his seed deep inside Chung Myung. His lover's body trembled, his knees nearly buckling under the intensity.

With a groan, Tang Bo pulled back, watching as his fluid slowly trickled out of Chung Myung’s ripe hole. He pulled out fully and collapsed beside Chung Myung, wrapping him in his arms.

The Sword Saint nuzzled closer, purring contentedly.

"We… ha… we should start preparing for Ah-Ya's Bai Ri Yan…" Tang Bo pointed out between breaths.

"Miss Tang Shumin agreed to help us."

"That's good. I was… busy, so I didn't have time to research."

"Busy thinking about my breasts?"

"That pretty much sums it up, yeah."

Chung Myung chuckled gingerly, his breath brushing over Tang Bo's chest.

"You can try it too if you want," Tang Bo remarked casually.

Humming with curiosity, Chung Myung's gaze fell on Tang Bo's nipples before he tentatively licked one, provoking a short gasp from Tang Bo who hadn’t expected his remark to be taken seriously.

"Hmmm," Chung Myung sucked slowly, then bit gently, tugging at it from different angles.

"Mmmph!" Tang Bo's breath stuttered again as he let his lover pinch and play with his nipples.

"Okay, I can see the appeal," Chung Myung said, using his thumbs to push at both nipples simultaneously.

"Aah~ Th..That means I can do it more often?"

"Dream on."

"Can't say I didn't try."

The soothing massage over his nipples lulled Tang Bo to sleep, and Chung Myung's hands continued to play until he noticed the light snores escaping from his lover.

Sometimes, Chung Myung couldn’t believe this was the same man who had fucked him multiple times a night, for days on end, each time with the same vigor.

Chung Myung pinched Tang Bo's nose, watching him squirm in his sleep.

"Leech," Chung Myung let him go with a huff before raising to place a soft kiss on Tang Bo's forehead. "My leech."

Pulling the covers over them, Chung Myung nestled back into his lover's arms and fell asleep. Tang Bo, who managed to hold back his blush long enough, tightened his hold on his partner, his face boiling red.

Another peaceful night rolled by before the intense hustle and bustle of getting ready for the celebration began. The flurry of activity somehow left them both more drained than a few nights of relentless passion.

If this was how Bai Ri Yan's preparations unfolded, Chung Myung could only shudder at the thought of what their wedding would entail. The chaos, the expectations, and the never-ending to-do lists were enough to make him want to crawl back into bed and hide under the covers.

But as he looked over at Tang Bo, who was already deep in the throes of organizing everything, he felt a spark of determination.

Holding the parchment firmly, Chung Myung prepared to write the invitations.

Chapter Text

Chung Myung watched the rising sun, its soft glow spreading across the horizon and painting the sky in warm shades of morning light. A gentle breath escaped his lips, turning into a fleeting cloud of mist in the crisp autumn air.

Golden leaves drifted from the towering ginkgo trees that lined the grand garden of the Tang mansion, carpeting the ground in a mosaic of autumn hues. A soft breeze carried the scent of blooming osmanthus and freshly brewed chrysanthemum tea, blending with the warmth of sunlit petals that floated lazily in the air.

The Tang family had outdone themselves, transforming the garden into a vibrant festival. Red and gold lanterns swayed gently above tables soon to be laden with delicacies—steamed dumplings shaped like lotus flowers, sweet rice cakes, and bowls of shimmering, jewel-like candied fruit.

A light coat was draped slowly over Chung Myung’s shoulders, and he instinctively clutched its edges to prevent it from slipping away.

“It’s pretty chilly today,” Tang Bo remarked, his eyes following the shifting hues of the morning sky. Although wearing extra layers was unnecessary for Saints like them since they could use Qi to warm up, Tang Bo just wanted to do it. Call it a whim.

"Yeah," Chung Myung didn't call him out on his gesture. "We should make sure Ah-Ya is properly dressed."

Tang Bo leaned in and gave Chung Myung a soft kiss on the cheek. “I’ll ask the servants to tidy up the yard a bit. Those fallen leaves can be slippery.” With that, he walked off.

Chung Myung lingered on his retreating figure, his heart caught in a haze of bittersweet longing. If only it were springtime, Ah-Ya could have played among the blooming plum blossoms.

No, even if it were spring, the Tang family only had one young plum tree in Tang Bo's private garden—nothing like the sea of blossoms back at Mount Hua.

Mount Hua…

A pang of homesickness washed over him, gentle yet insistent. The time to return was drawing near, and he felt the familiar tug of his true home waiting for him on the mountain.

"Waah!"

A sharp-pitched cry jolted Chung Myung from his thoughts. Without hesitation, he rushed toward the source, passing by the Tang nannies who were trying to calm the fussing infant.

"Ah-Ya, what's wrong?" He asked, his voice soothing as he approached.

The moment Tang Myung-Ya saw him, her cries softened, and she reached out with tiny hands, yearning to be held. “Papa!” she called, her small voice pleading.

Chung Myung’s heart melted at the sight. He gently scooped her up, and her little arms immediately clung to his neck. “You don’t like mornings, huh?” he murmured, patting her back and rocking her gently.

The little one began to relax, snuggling into his comforting warmth. As she gently sucked her thumb, a subtle pout formed on her lips.

The nannies exhaled in relief. “We were trying to get her dressed for the ceremony,” one of them explained.

"I'll help," Chung Myung reassured the ladies, though he frowned at the sight of the traditional robe. "It's too thin."

"Ah, yes!" The nannies quickly sprang into action, returning moments later with a set of luxurious undergarments made from angora wool—a rare, expensive rabbit fur distinguished by its soft, fine fibers that deliver a sumptuous silky sensation.

Satisfied, Chung Myung dressed Tang Myung-Ya himself, tying a simple sash around her waist to ensure the garments fit snugly but comfortably. He then helped slip on the traditional red leather shoes, adorned with a playful tiger face and padded with felt to keep her feet warm.

Once assured that she was dressed cozy, he nodded, and the nannies stepped forward to finish the preparations. They gently tied her hair up, securing it with a delicate flower pin. Finally, they dressed her in a red silk robe embroidered with a golden dragon and phoenix on the back, symbolizing the harmonious balance of yin and yang.

Tang Myung-Ya remained calm throughout the process, which always made Chung Myung brag in his letters to his sect brothers. Unbeknownst to him, she was only this cooperative when he was nearby—a secret the nannies kept to themselves.

With everything in place, the nannies bowed in gratitude as Chung Myung left to prepare himself. Though he wasn’t one to dress up for formal occasions, he knew he should at least make an effort to look presentable today.

***

“Are you going to stare all day?” Chung Myung teased, noticing Tang Bo’s wide-eyed gaze as he took in the sight of his partner dressed in a formal robe.

"Wish I could," Tang Bo cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. "Your sect is here."

Chung Myung's eyes sparkled with excitement as he hurriedly scooped up Tang Myung-Ya and dashed off to meet his fellow martial siblings.

“Jangmun-in Sahyung!” Chung Myung greeted, bowing respectfully. He looked up to find his sect brothers and sisters staring, a mix of surprise and disbelief on their faces.

"I never thought I'd see you wearing something formal in this life," Chung Mun almost teared up.  

"Or any life at all, really," Chung Jin added with a grin, earning a chorus of chuckles from the others.

Chung Myung rolled his eyes, ignoring their teasing. His focus shifted as more guests began to arrive, and he gently cradled Tang Myung-Ya in his arms, ensuring she felt safe and comfortable amid the growing crowd.

The grand garden buzzed with energy as the Tang family’s close acquaintances arrived—wealthy merchants, distant cousin branches, and representatives from the four other great martial families: Peng, Namgung, Moyong, and Zhuge. Among the great sects, only Mount Hua and Wudang were invited upon Chung Myung's request.

Despite this, Tang Bo and the Tang elders occupied the role of receiving guests with composed efficiency. Tang Shumin was equally involved, orchestrating the event with grace and precision to ensure everything ran smoothly.

However, no matter how meticulous one might be, problems were still bound to arise.

“A child born out of wedlock? Even if it’s the Dark Saint’s, isn’t this a bit excessive? Should you really display such a lavish banquet for an illegitimate child?”

The man, a Peng elder, spoke loud enough for everyone to hear, making sure to reach the ears of the proud father.

“Enough!” Tang Bo stepped forward, his gaze sharp with a silent warning.

The Peng elder, however, had just started warming up and continued his belligerence. "Where is the mother? Or did you ravish some poor woman, then kick her out to protect your status?"

Tang Bo clenched his fists, hesitant about revealing the truth. The existence of the special pill—dangerous to anyone without substantial Qi—was a secret better kept hidden. He didn't want to see the view of the world either, as the birth was unnatural.

Just as the Peng elder seemed ready to continue his slander, a commanding voice froze the garden with a tone colder than the winds of the Northern Sea.

"The mother is right here." 

“Yes, the mother—!” The Peng elder whirled around, only to meet Chung Myung’s fierce glare. Even Tang Myung-Ya, resting in her father’s arms, mirrored her parent’s defiance, her tiny brow furrowing. “S-Sword Saint?” The elder stumbled over his words, bowing quickly before registering the statement. “Pardon, the mother?”

“That’s right. I’m the mother,” Chung Myung declared, stepping forward with an imposing presence. “I gave birth to her with this body. Got a problem with that?”

No, rumors had circulated, but who could believe such an extraordinary claim? Yet nobody dared question it either.

A sudden burst of laughter broke the heavy tension.

"If it's the Sword Saint then it's certainly possible," a Wudang elder chuckled.

"Old man, you haven't died yet?" Chung Myung's tone shifted casually, letting everyone breathe.

The Wudang elder stroked his long beard with amusement. “I’m still young at heart.”

"Don't kid yourself, you look a fart away from the grave," Chung Myung remarked. "I'm surprised you could leisurely walk to a banquet."

"If the Sword Saint calls, how could I not reply?" The Wudang elder replied serenely, though a bead of sweat betrayed his nerves.

The onlookers sewed their mouths. Let alone the Dark Saint, the Plum Blossom Sword Saint himself confirmed the child’s heritage, and then the Taiji Sword Emperor from Wudang acknowledged it without question. Who would dare voice a complaint now?

Tang Bo leaned close to whisper, "Did you anticipate something like this?"

Chung Myung scoffed lightly. "I'm not that ignorant," he replied, striding through the crowd with Tang Myung-Ya held protectively in his arms.

The Sword Saint claimed the highest seat, casually resting Tang Myung-Ya on his knee. He leaned back with a bored expression, though a threatening aura surrounded him. His presence overshadowed even that of the Emperor.

The conflict died as swiftly as it had flared, and the lively banquet regained its festive spirit. Extravagant gifts piled high on the presentation table, but Chung Myung paid them no mind. All he wished for was this event to end sooner.

He even restrained himself from drinking more than the toast cup, choosing to keep a vigilant eye on his daughter instead. His uncharacteristic restraint caught the attention of Chung Mun, who watched with quiet pride at the protective aura his usually carefree Sajae exuded.

After what appeared to be hours of celebration, the event was nearing its conclusion. Chung Myung stood and walked deliberately toward a clean patch of grass, each step he took capturing the eyes of the attendees.

Setting Tang Myung-Ya down, he caught sight of his Sajaes and even his Sasuks, who participated this time, instinctively tensing up. They were exuding an extra layer of awareness, ready to spring into action if anyone dared to approach the child now that it was out of Chung Myung's hold.

“Goo?” Tang Myung-Ya cooed, her confusion momentary as her attention shifted to the grass's texture beneath her fingers. She giggled at the tickling sensation, curiosity lighting up her face.

A gentle caress brushed against her nose, sending a delightful tickle that fluttered through her senses. Then, something even more enchanting drew her gaze upward, and her eyes widened in pure awe.

A sea of plum blossoms painted the sky in a soft rosy glow, swirling and drifting delicately in the wind then dispersing like hushed whispers at the slightest touch.

The Sword Saint twirled around, dancing gracefully with his sword in a firm grip, masterfully displaying Mount Hua's symbolic technique.

Nobody present could take their eyes away from the sight, even after the Sword Saint stopped, their gaze lingered on the fading fantasy.

As the sword returned to its sheath, the petals settled gently around him, and the world seemed to exhale in unison. Chung Myung turned, meeting his daughter’s wide, wonder-filled eyes. His expression softened and he smiled warmly.

"This is my gift to you, my daughter."

Tang Myung-Ya, still dazed by the shower of plum petals, reached up to catch one but lost her balance, stumbling forward. With a determined little pout, she pushed herself upright and took two wobbly steps.

Chung Myung’s eyes widened and he rushed forward, his hands reaching out to catch her before she could fall. His gaze turned to seek Tang Bo's own astonished gaze, who breathed in disbelief.

"A genius!" One elder exclaimed. "She is truly a prodigy!"

"She is undoubtedly the child of two Saints," Another added, their voice filled with awe.

The guests broke into applause, their clapping echoing around the garden, praising the child’s remarkable feat. But Tang Myung-Ya, oblivious to the attention, reached her hand to touch her father's eye. She giggled proudly, as if finally catching a plum blossom.

With that, her strength left her and she fell into her father's hold. Her eyelids fluttered slowly, drowsy from all the excitement. Chung Myung rose, cradling her closely and turning to leave when he noticed Tang Bo approaching them. A cryptic smile was on his face.

"A genius, like her father," Tang Bo said. "Like both of her fathers, I should say."

Chung Myung blushed, but the surprises for the day were far from over, as he noticed Tang Bo’s expression shift with a glimmer of something more.

Crouching down on one knee, Tang Bo reached into his robes and pulled out a finely crafted wooden box. He took a deep breath and began to recite, his voice filled with gravity.

"Throughout the seasons I have seen pass,

With you, with me, and our little sprout.

The land bears witness, the heavens may see,

Before autumn's colors start to flee.

My heart whispers, a question it holds:

My plum, my love, more precious than gold,

When spring’s first light breaks through,

Will you grace my life, with your blooms?"

"Sappy bastard," Chung Myung muttered under his breath. Forget his embarrassment, the entire crowd had turned a shade of awkward, shy red after witnessing such an overly sentimental proposal.

With one arm securely holding Tang Myung-Ya, Chung Myung shifted his attention back to the box in Tang Bo's hand, his curiosity piqued. He opened it slowly, his gaze falling on the contents.

"I considered getting a green for you," Tang Bo admitted timidly. "But I wished that anyone who saw them would immediately know we belong together."

"...Help me put it on."

Tang Bo rose and with utmost tenderness, he leaned in, poking a small hole in Chung Myung's right earlobe before attaching the earring. Then, with a quiet smile, Tang Bo put on the other identical earring on his own ear, mirroring his lover perfectly.

The design was simple—a pair of golden earrings with hanging reddish flowers, matching Chung Myung's eyes. What better jewelry to represent their relationship than the first thing people notice when looking at someone's face?

"Sahyung, I think those two forgot we’re all here," Chung Jin whispered to Chung Mun, though the Saints heard it all the same.

Tang Bo cleared his throat and stood up, breaking the silence. He announced the end of the banquet, then grabbed his lover’s sleeve, pulling him away. They made their exit without a second glance at the congratulatory comments and well-wishes that echoed behind them, as the world seemed to fade into the background.

Plopping onto the bed, Tang Bo pulled the cover over them both, nestling close to Chung Myung, who was still holding their sleeping daughter. The thin cover did little to conceal their flushed faces.

"You just had to do it in front of everyone…" Chung Myung muttered, his voice a mix of exasperation and affection.

"It just felt right," Tang Bo defended, though there was no real conviction behind his words. He still had the satisfied glow of a man who had just made an important gesture.

"But…" Chung Myung began, but Tang Bo interrupted with a grin.

"You said you were the mother too."

"Shut up."

…

"We… we need to prepare to leave for Mount Hua."

"Yeah."

Despite their verbal agreement, neither of them moved nor seemed to have any intention of doing so. Perhaps their departure could wait another day.

Chapter Text

"Jin-ah, this…" Chung Myung blinked, a bit disoriented. He was definitely home—his home, here in Mount Hua—but something was different.

"The other disciples helped with it too," Chung Jin said, a hint of pride in his voice as he gestured toward Chung Myung’s renovated house. The small dwelling now boasted a new, sturdier exterior and even an extra room for the child, once it was old enough to stay alone. "What do you think?"

What did he think? Chung Myung was speechless, staring at the changes in a daze. His gaze lingered on the thoughtful details: the sturdy new beams, the fresh mats, the small cradle set up in his room. He swallowed, feeling an unfamiliar warmth creeping up his cheeks.

"Uh… I—" He fumbled for words, his blush deepening. “…Thank you."

"So, Sahyung does know how to say those words?" Chung Jin teased, unable to resist the rare chance.

"Don’t tell the others!" Chung Myung warned with a hiss.

Chung Jin definitely told the others.

Chung Myung can tell by those stupid grins they've got on their faces. He seethed, his fists clenching as he debated whether to wipe those smirks off their faces. But he knew addressing it would only dig the hole deeper.

Still fuming, he stomped off to find Tang Bo.

“Bo-yah!” he growled as he entered the room, making Tang Bo sit upright in alarm.

"Taoist Hyung, i-is something wrong?"

"Give me some mild stomach poison," Chung Myung demanded, his hand already fishing through Tang Bo's sleeve.

"What? I uh— I think I have some, hold up," Tang Bo muttered, a bit bewildered but pulling out an orange bottle from his other sleeve.

Chung Myung took the bottle, eyeing it suspiciously. "It’s not lethal, right?"

“No, no. Just a bit of a stomachache for a few days. Nothing serious."

Chung Myung nodded satisfied and left without any explanation, leaving Tang Bo staring after him, stunned. When he eventually pieced together the situation from gossiping disciples, he wisely decided to stay quiet about it.

***

"Ah-Ya," Chung Myung murmured, watching the snow gently settle over the plum trees. A soft, pleased smile spread across his face. "Revenge is even better served warm and lingering."

"Aay," Tang Myung-Ya nodded her head understandingly.

The serene moment was interrupted by the thud of a door and a familiar voice. 

"I'm back," Tang Bo announced, his exhaustion evident as he plopped down onto the bed.

"You look as awful as always," Chung Myung teased, approaching with a playful smirk.

Tang Bo cracked one eye open, an affectionate smile curling his lips. "I love you too," he retorted, his voice heavy with fatigue. Just as his eyes fluttered shut, a small tug at his hair made him look up. "Hmm? Ah-Ya?"

Their daughter was nestled comfortably beside him, her tiny hands playing gently with his hair, her giggles melting away his weariness. Before Tang Bo could say more, the bed dipped as Chung Myung climbed on and—

"Ooph!" Tang Bo wheezed as Chung Myung unceremoniously flopped on top of him. "I… I think you cracked four of my ribs," he joked breathlessly.

Chung Myung snickered. "Aww~ Is the Dark Saint really that weak?" he mocked. "What should I do to cure you?"

"By how bad it feels…" Tang Bo gave a mock contemplative hum. "I'd say the only cure is a kiss."

Chung Myung furrowed his brows, feigning serious thought. "Damn, that's too bad. I guess you'll have to die from your injuries," he declared, dramatically dabbing at an invisible tear. "I'll miss you…"

"Don't kill me off that easily!" Tang Bo exclaimed dramatically. "Please, O'kind and merciful Taoist, may I have a peck?"

With exaggerated reluctance, Chung Myung leaned in, but his kiss was anything but reluctant. It was soft and tender, and his touch was soothing. It was as if he melted on Tang Bo's skin.

It was regretful how quickly the moment passed.

"How are the preparations going?" Chung Myung asked, resting comfortably on Tang Bo's chest.

Tang Bo wrapped an arm around him. "Your sect is really invested in this," he said with a chuckle. "Honestly, I haven’t done much. Mostly just running errands."

"Delivery boy?"

"Yeah."

"Need help?"

"No. I think Jangmun-in would murder me if I gave you any work."

"He's okay with me lazing around?" 

"You’re not lazing; you’re taking care of Ah-Ya. We didn’t bring any nannies, so it’s mostly fallen to you…"

At the sound of her name, Tang Myung-Ya looked up from her spot, making a curious cooing noise.

"Sahyung’s been helping me too," Chung Myung mentioned casually. "He's got experience with my 'kind' as he put it."

Tang Bo sighed, his exasperation laced with affection. "I can imagine that," he muttered.

Chung Myung narrowed his eyes, ready to yell. "What’s that supposed to—" His retort was cut short by the loud growl of his stomach.

Tang Bo seized the opportunity, laughing. "Sounds like it's dinner time," he declared, grateful for the distraction.

"Tch," Chung Myung clicked his tongue, pushing himself up. He grabbed Tang Myung-Ya's winter coat, preparing to bundle her up.

Tang Bo frowned and sat up to grab a larger coat. "You too, it's cold outside."

"Yah! I don't need it."

"Just wear it, you stubborn mule!"

Chung Myung threw his head back in annoyance, yet he kept the coat draped over his shoulders instead of discarding it.

"Let's go!" He declared once Tang Myung-Ya was bundled up snugly in her coat.

It was still kindly snowing. Large, fluffy flakes drifted lazily through the air and melted with a delicate touch.

Tang Myung-Ya let out a surprised "Gah!" as one of the snowflakes landed on her nose, instantly dissolving into cold droplets. She shook her head in protest and quickly burrowed into the warmth of Chung Myung’s coat.

"She doesn’t seem to like the cold," Tang Bo remarked. His voice carried a teasing lilt. "Just like a certain Saint who uses his Qi nonstop to stay warm."

Chung Myung shrugged his shoulders. It was no secret that he hated feeling cold.

The snow crunched under their feet as they walked down the narrow path. The lanterns reflected on the untouched white blanket below them, casting the scenery in a serene atmosphere.

Soon, they reached the dining hall, where the familiar clamor of Mount Hua Sect disciples filled the air as they eagerly awaited dinner.

"Sahyung!" Chung Jin called out, waving them over to the spot he and Chung Mun were settled.

Chung Mun raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on his lips. "You're actually on time for dinner. Should I be worried?" Despite the tease, his hands reached out, expectantly.

Sticking out his tongue in a lighthearted gesture, Chung Myung reached into his coat, retrieved the baby, and handed it over as if dealing with illegal merchandise.

"How's my niece today?" Chung Mun cooed, his eyes lighting up as Tang Myung-Ya responded with excited babbling. She chattered away, her tiny voice animated, though no one could quite decipher more than a couple of clear words.

It was obvious she adored Chung Mun, just like Chung Myung, much to Tang Bo's jealousy.

"Why don't you adopt her…" Tang Bo grumbled enviously.

"Maybe I should…"

"Noo!"

Chung Myung snorted before pulling his partner away. "Let’s eat," he said, just as the enticing aroma of food drifted into the hall. Everyone’s attention quickly shifted, and the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation as the meal was finally served.

"Sahyung?" Chung Myung called out to his older sect brother, his voice barely muffled by the sounds of clinking dishes and lively chatter.

"Hmm?" Chung Mun responded distractedly as he fed Tang Myung-Ya.

"When should I start training Ah-Ya?"

The question made Chung Mun freeze, and he turned to look at his Sajae with wide eyes. "You madman! She's barely walking, and you already want to make her fight?"

"I was just asking…."

"You—planning in advance?" Chung Mun spluttered in disbelief. "You? Planning?"

Gasps and murmurs rippled through the hall as nearby disciples who had overheard choked on their food, visibly startled. Even some who hadn’t been paying attention now stared, noodles dangling mid-slurp.

"..."

Chung Mun coughed awkwardly before replying. "You can probably start teaching her the basics when she’s about five or six."

As he savored a thoughtful bite of cabbage, Tang Bo hummed quietly. "We should teach her some medicine, too," he added.

"Why would she need that?" Chung Myung complained, but Tang Bo shrugged his shoulders.

"Better prepared than sorry, right?"

Chung Myung couldn't compete with that reasoning.

"Fine... but what about literature and art?" Chung Myung mused aloud. "She should learn to read and write. Maybe drawing, too…."

…..

An odd hush settled over the room as everyone processed this. The infamous Sword Saint, planning his daughter’s education beyond martial arts? It was almost too much to believe.

"Are you serious right now?!" Chung Jin nearly jumped out of his seat, staring at his Sahyung as if he suggested something crazy. 

"Of course?"

"But she's your daughter!"

"I know that. That’s why I want to teach her."

"What are you even going to teach her?"

….

"Are you insulting my knowledge?"

"N-no, wait! Sahyun—ack! You know what? Bring it here you Sahyung brat—"

"Jin-ah, Myung-ah," Chung Mun intervened before a full fight erupted. "We're still eating."

Chung Jin was thankful for getting out of it with only a few passing bruises, but how was he supposed to swallow the food with Chung Myung staring at him like that?

"I was suggesting that I…"

"Hah?"

"Nothing!" Chung Jin backpedaled immediately, shoving more food into his mouth. "Don't mind me… just keep planning for your daughter," he muttered hastily, hoping to avoid more trouble.

Tang Bo, who had been observing the entire exchange with thinly veiled amusement, turned to Chung Myung.

"What about music?"

Chung Myung paused, considering. "It's not really necessary… but if she likes it… hmm, maybe."

And so, the Saints continued their earnest discussion about their daughter’s future, entirely oblivious to the bemused crowd around them. 

Some disciples covered their faces in secondhand embarrassment, unable to believe how their elders were acting. But others couldn't help but laugh, finding the scene unexpectedly endearing.

***

Tang Bo sniffed in his cold, empty bed.

"..."

"Ah-Ya…" Tang Bo sulked, his heart aching at the loss.

"I'm here too..." Chung Myung's voice was filled with exasperation.

"I miss my daughter…" Tang Bo turned to his partner for comfort.

"She's at Sahyung's... Look, brat, this isn’t even the first time!" Chung Myung complained but petted Tang Bo anyway.

"But… but!"

"Where's the guy who cried that we can't do it at home anymore?"

"Yeah, but now I need to save myself so I can perform well on the wedding night!"

"..."

"Owwww," Tang Bo yelped when Chung Myung pinched his stomach. "What was that for?" he whined.

"Shut up and sleep!" Chung Myung growled, though his tone lacked any real harshness. He wrapped his arms around Tang Bo from behind and pulled the blankets over them.

Tang Bo feigned an offended expression, but he couldn’t hold it. Slowly, he turned to his side and rested on Chung Myung's chest. His ears turned pink as he buried his face in his lover's neck.

"Aren't you eager for the wedding?" Tang Bo mumbled sleepily.

"A bit."

"Nervous?"

"Maybe."

"Do you have anything to say?"

"Hah?"

"I mean a speech for after the ceremony?"

"Ahh…"

Chung Myung thought for a moment. "I'll say... uhhh... 'Don't marry leeches you pick off the street?.'"

"...That's terrible." Tang Bo snorted. "Can't you be a bit more romantic?"

"Like you were on Ah-Ya's Bai Ri Yan?"

"Good night!" Tang Bo nuzzled into Chung Myung's chest, prompting an amused huff out of his lover.

Chung Myung lay there for a while, staring at the ceiling. The warmth of the blankets, the sound of Tang Bo’s steady breathing— before he knew it, he groggily fluttered his eyes, disturbed by the shifting of the bed.

The Sword Saint blinked, rubbed his eyes tiredly, and leaned over to see Tang Bo already getting dressed.

"What time is it?" Chung Myung grumbled, still half asleep.

"Early in the morning," Tang Bo replied without turning around. "I need to help with the preparations."

"Oh…" Chung Myung sighed, sinking back into the pillows, unwilling to fully wake up yet.

Tang Bo paused by the bed and turned to him, his expression softening. He leaned down and placed a gentle peck on Chung Myung’s lips.

The chill of the morning air and the sudden loneliness woke Chung Myung enough to keep him awake. He patted the cold spot Tang Bo left with a small frown. His gaze drifted to the empty crib where Ah-Ya should have been.

'With Sahyung' his mind supplied.

The Sword Saint threw off the blankets and began getting dressed. Stepping into the cool air, he closed the door behind him, the stillness of the morning settling around him. He moved toward the courtyard, where the first signs of life were already stirring. A few disciples were busy with their morning tasks, and as he passed, a wave of greetings met him. He gave a lazy nod in return, his mind already elsewhere.

Turning to the nearest building, he made his way toward the study. The door creaked open, revealing Chung Jin on the floor, meeting his eyes with embarrassment.

Chung Myung tilted his head to the side. "What are you doing?"

"Papa!" Tang Myung-Ya squealed as she jumped off Chung Jin's back. Her little legs wobbled beneath her, and she nearly stumbled before reaching Chung Myung, who caught her just in time.

"Playing horse... I think?" Chung Jin stretched his back with a groan. "She's heavier than she looks."

Tang Myung-Ya tugged on Chung Myung's hair to get his attention as she babbled excitedly. He hummed along in response, as if genuinely interested in whatever she was saying, which encouraged his daughter to speak even more.

Chung Myung gently patted her head and rocked her with his arms. "Sahyung?"

"Has guests over," Chung Jin answered with a yawn.

"This early?"

"Yeah, some merchants."

"Ahh, okay." Chung Myung nodded, his fingers gently brushing through Tang Myung-Ya’s hair as she nuzzled into him.

"I'm surprised she’s this lively this morning," Chung Jin remarked. "She's usually grumpy like you."

"Mhmm," Chung Myung hummed with a smile, looking down at his daughter. She had dozed off with her cheek against his neck.

"Let’s get breakfast," Chung Jin suggested, finally standing up. "I’m starving."

Chung Myung followed him outside, the girl's face hidden from view as she slept. The sun was still waking up, casting a gentle glow over the frost-covered ground. The air was crisp but not biting, and everything around them felt mundane, familiar.

The sound of clanging pots and pans drifted from the kitchen as the disciples continued their work in preparation for the wedding. The courtyard was filled with movement, and while the quiet hum of activity was comforting it was just the calm before the excitement.

Chung Myung carefully fed Tang Myung-Ya some porridge, watching with amusement as she eagerly ate, occasionally reaching for the spoon to steal it

Chung Jin watched them quietly, unable to suppress a chuckle at the sight of Chung Myung, who looked so completely different from his usual tough, stoic self. His face was soft with affection, a look that no one would have ever imagined on the Sword Saint.

"You're surprisingly good at this whole father thing."

Chung Myung glanced up from his daughter, unaware that he was beaming. "I had help," he admitted, his gaze shifting back to the girl in his arms.

Chung Jin couldn't help but laugh again, seeing how much his Sahyung had changed in such a short time. He shook his head with a grin. "You two..."

Chung Myung paused, furrowing his brow as he looked at his Sajae in confusion.

"No, the three of you..." Chung Jin continued, vaguely waving a hand in the air. "It's nice."

Chung Myung tilted his face, trying to understand the meaning behind his words. He knew Chung Jin meant well, but what exactly was he supposed to get from it?

***

The day passed as peacefully as the one before, with Tang Bo walking home, tired but content. They were finally done with all the wedding preparations.

"Ah, I’m dead," he groaned, flopping down next to Chung Myung. "But seeing Ah-Ya, my little angel gave me enough energy to continue living."

"Da-da?"

"Yes, Ah-Ya, Dada!" Tang Bo leaned over Chung Myung to smooch his daughter's cheeks. She tried to push him away, but her tiny hands lacked strength.

Tang Bo chuckled, pulling back to nuzzle into Chung Myung’s shoulder.

"Hah?" Chung Myung noticed him yawning. "Tired?"

"Mm-hmm..." Tang Bo murmured lazily, his face still buried in the warmth of his lover's shoulder. His hand drifted down to Chung Myung’s waist, fingers brushing absently over his hipbone. "Mhmm..."

A familiar warmth spread through Chung Myung’s body, his skin responding to the gentle touch. He looked down, seeing only the mess of Tang Bo's hair covering his face.

"Want to sleep?" Chung Myung asked softly, his voice a little hoarse.

"Sleep…." Tang Bo blinked slowly as he raised his gaze to meet his lover.

"You know…" Tang Bo started, his tone playful yet contemplative, "I was thinking today but…"

"Hmm?"

"You know those, uh, lingerie things women wear at night?"

"What?"

"Well… Maybe you could wear one for the wedding night?"

"Ah-Ya is right here, you bastard!"

"Ack—!"

Chapter Text

His chest felt tight.

Tang Bo exhaled shakily, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His hair was neatly tied and secured under a black cap, every strand in place. Draped over his shoulders and cascading down to the floor was a long, red robe with wide sleeves, tied at the waist with a sash. 

The intricate golden embroidery danced along the fabric like fire and a jade pendant hung by his side, a quiet marker of his status, while his single golden earring caught the light, waiting to meet its pair.

There was a part of him that still couldn’t believe this day had come. He was on the verge of marrying the man he had longed for all his life.

No! Tang Bo slapped his own cheeks lightly, snapping himself out of his reverie. Focus! This is not the time to get excited yet.

This was where the hard part began.

The Door Games.

A wedding tradition passed down through the centuries, it consisted of challenges for the groom as a demonstration of his love for the bride… his partner. They're usually set up by the bridesmaids, but in his Hyung's case, the whole Mount Hua Sect.

They're mostly playful and harmless, but Tang Bo knew better than to let his guard down.

And it was quickly proved as the door opened with a swish accompanied by a flash of something shiny hurtling toward him. Tang Bo smirked as he skillfully dodged it. Did Mount Hua forget he's the master at throwing daggers?

"Is that all you’ve got— No! Why are there needles on the ground?!" Tang Bo yelled as his eyes swept the courtyard. The entire courtyard was littered with sharp pins, glinting menacingly in the morning light.

"You bastard think Sahyung is that easy to win?" One of the disciples cackled while the others grinned wide and mischievous.

"What, is this too hard for the Dark Saint ?" another chimed in mockingly. "Guess you'll have to give up."

A wave of laughter rippled through the group, their confidence bolstered by their numbers.

"Tch!" Tang Bo gritted his teeth. Since when does Mount Hua even have this many needles, weren't they a sword sect? "You underestimate my power," he hissed, shifting his weight in preparation.

"Don't try it," one disciple warned with a taunting smirk.

However, Tang Bo will never give up on this, even if you were to waterboard him. With a determined glint in his eye, he launched himself forward.

The Dark Saint leaped with precision, darting between the sea of needles, evading blades that swiped at him from seemingly every angle. His flowing gown stayed pristine, untouched by the chaos surrounding him.

Landing gracefully atop a stone wall with a prideful smirk, Tang Bo glanced down at the disciples, ready to mock them—

Sizzle!

Doesn't something smell like burning?

"Ack!" Tang Bo instantly jumped down the wall, nearly falling into a pit. "You madmen scorched the walls?!" he exclaimed, flabbergasted. "No, when did you even have time for this?"

One disciple puffed his chest out proudly. "Sahyung taught us a few things during his lifetime."

Mount Hua is probably the only sect to take pride in such bandit-like strategies.

Tang Bo's gaze darkened as he sank his hands into his sleeves. An ominous laughter came out of his lips as he pulled out his daggers. "You forget, I'm the Dark Saint!"

Kwing!

Twang!

Thud!

Three daggers embedded into the wall served as stepping stones as he swiftly made his escape. The disciples groaned in surprise and disappointment as they were defeated.

"Elder!" A Tang brat yelled as he threw Tang Bo some more daggers. Tang Bo snatched them midair without breaking stride.

"Thanks!" He called over his shoulder.

***

Just as quickly as he charged ahead, he abruptly skidded to a halt.

"You shall not pass," a commanding voice declared, firm and resolute. Before him stood one of Mount Hua’s elders, his stance unyielding.

"The three questions , huh?" Tang Bo’s eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a confident smirk. "Ask me… why are you pulling out your sword?!"

"You shall not pass." The elder repeated as he lunged forward, sword ready to attack.

Twing!

Tang Bo brought up his dagger, deflecting the strike with precision. Their weapons locked for a moment, the elder’s sharp gaze meeting the Dark Saint’s.

"What is Chung Myung’s favorite treat?" the elder asked, pulling back for another swing.

"Mooncakes!" Tang Bo shot back without hesitation, spinning out of reach and deflecting another strike. "You'll have to try harder than that!"

The elder hummed in contemplation as he reset his stance. "When does Chung Myung train?"

"Trick question," Tang Bo huffed amusedly. "He skips that!"

The elder stroked his beard. "Then, for the last question," he began, his voice deceptively serene as a plum flower blossomed at the tip of his sword, quickly multiplying into a gust of petals.

"What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen pied falconet?"

Tang Bo faltered—just barely. With a sharp inhale, Tang Bo darted forward. His steps were precise, his blade slicing through the onslaught of petals without hesitation. In a blur, he slipped past the elder, landing lightly behind him, unscathed.

The elder’s eyes flicked to him, impressed as he closed his eyes with resignation.

"Sixty li," Tang Bo answered coolly, his tone unwavering. Without waiting for acknowledgment, he strode forward.

***

His steps were firm, carrying a resolve as he approached the final opponent.

"Hello there," a calm, familiar voice greeted him.

"Chung Jin," Tang Bo acknowledged with a curt nod. He was honestly expecting to see Chung Mun, but there is no reason to complain.

Chung Jin extended his hand, palm up in a silent demand. Tang Bo, unfazed, reached into his sleeve and retrieved a card, placing it in the outstretched hand.

Taking it with suspicion, Chung Jin inspected the words written on it.

"Is this all?" Chung Jin glanced back at Tang Bo.

"There's more on the back," Tang Bo replied, his voice steady, betraying none of the nerves bubbling under the surface.

With a flick of his wrist, Chung Jin flipped the card over, scanning the rest of the contents. Folding the card, Chung Jin nodded in satisfaction."A fine dowry, off you go."

"Why, thank you," Tang Bo brought his arms in a small grateful bow and passed him.

As he stepped into the building where Chung Myung awaited, the heavy doors closed behind him with a resonant thud. The sudden quiet made his heart race.

He moved forward, each step echoing in the still room, his eyes fixed on the figure at the far end—the man he would soon call his forever.

"..."

"Hyung-nim?" He called hesitantly.

If he couldn't perceive Qi, Tang Bo might not have recognized the figure before him as Chung Myung. The veil obscured his face, leaving only an ethereal silhouette framed by layers of crimson silk. What purpose does veiling a man’s face serve anyway?

No, even now, a faint doubt lingered—

"This fucking robe is too long!"

It's him!

That sharp tongue and sassy sway of his hips.

"Close your mouth, stupid leech." Chung Myung said, approaching him in a sleek, slow manner. He resembled a predator enjoying the thrill of its ensnared prey.

Tang Bo's throat tightened. "That… Y-you look… uh, Hyung-nim, you…" His words stumbled over one another like clumsy foals. 

He should stop, gather his thoughts—but how could he? His brain refused to cooperate. His eyes were fixated on the mesmerizing figure before him, heart hammering so fiercely he swore it echoed in the room.

Perhaps the veil was meant as a merciful barrier, shielding Tang Bo's heart from the overwhelming sight of Chung Myung in his full splendor. Even so, the seductive outline of his frame beneath the flowing crimson silk was enough to send the Dark Saint to his early grave.

No matter how many nights Tang Bo had spent imagining this moment—dreaming of Chung Myung dressed in a wedding gown—it hadn't prepared him for the real thing.

And gods above, he was utterly, devastatingly breathtaking.

"...Are you really that happy?" Chung Myung's hand moved reflexively to his hair, pausing as he remembered it was elegantly pinned high, a departure from his usual ponytail.

"Of course," Tang Bo breathed, failing miserably to suppress the stupid grin spreading across his face. "From today on, we'll be spouses."

"If you like it that much, why haven't you asked before?"

"It was my guarantee that you enjoy my company… that it wasn't a marriage forcing you."

A soft snort escaped from beneath the veil. "You think a marriage could’ve stopped had I wished to leave?"

"No," Tang Bo admitted, his grin turning sheepish. "But it was the greatest proof I had."

"...And now?" Chung Myung pressed curiously. "Are you going to start doubting I like you?"

"Aww, so you do like me~!"

"...We have a child."

Chung Myung's face was indescribable, hidden beneath the veil, yet Tang Bo couldn't resist teasing him all the same. Moments like these—so silly, so mundane—made the atmosphere feel lighter.

"From now on, you'll have to remind me of your love for me every night—"

"Ahem."

Tang Bo froze mid-sentence, the sound of Chung Mun clearing his throat louder than thunder.

Chung Mun eyes Tang Bo as if daring him to finish that sentence, while Tang Bo coughed—though it felt less like an act and more like he was actually choking on his words.

"Should we have another talk before the ceremony?" Chung Mun asked, his tone polite but pointed.

"N-no, sir!" Tang Bo stammered, suddenly standing at full attention.

A few drops of sweat glided down his neck as Tang Bo could almost feel Chung Mun's judgment piercing through him. Then again, it was definitely Chung Myung’s fault—how was Tang Bo supposed to notice anyone else when he was dressed so… enticingly ?

Chung Mun let out a long, resigned sigh and shook his head before stepping closer to the couple. His presence felt almost divine, an aura of solemnity enveloping him as he cradled a modest box. Inside was a vibrant, luxurious thread of bright red silk.

"The two people connected by the red thread are destined lovers, regardless of time, place, or circumstance," Chung Mun recited, placing the box on a nearby stool and gently unfurling the string.

The couple kept silent and extended their arms with anticipation. The world around them was devoid of noise, only the gentle, musical sound of the wind against a windchime echoed in their ears as the two matching earrings swayed lightly.

It clicked in unison with their heartbeats, and it breathed softly in their ears.

"This magical cord may stretch or tangle…" Chung Mun's voice continued, soft yet steady, as he carefully tied one end around Chung Myung's pinky finger.

There was a brief pause. Chung Mun’s gaze softened as he released Chung Myung’s hand and turned to Tang Bo. He tied the other end around his pinky, completing the circle. "…but it will never break."

With a final breath of acceptance, Chung Mun rested his hands on the couple's hands. The last bit was spoken out of his heart alone. "Take care of each other."

The couple stood side by side, anxiously anticipating their moment to step out as they prepared for the next chapter of their journey together.

It was oddly silent, while the outside bustled with voices that faded into nothingness.

Tang Bo could feel the sweat slowly forming on his arm, the fabric of his robe suddenly too thick, too heavy. His emotions churned in a whirlwind inside him—some identifiable, others elusive.

There was warmth, maybe the robes were too thick.

There was excitement, the uncontainable joy of finally calling Chung Myung his husband.

There was joy, he was about to tie the knot with his beloved Hyung.

There were jitters, as if his heart was still trying to catch up with the reality of the moment.

There was fear, the trials and tribulations they were destined to cross in their path.

There was anxiety, for the future that's to come.

But most importantly, there was Chung Myung, his love that'll never fade.

A thousand words bubbled in Tang Bo’s chest, but none seemed to find their way to his mouth. His hand brushed against Chung Myung's. The tips of their fingers lightly touched. 

For a moment, they remained like that—just feeling the slight tremors in each other's fingers.

It seemed Chung Myung was also nervous.

And the world fell into a hush.

Their cue neared.

Tang Bo breathed deeply, but as he did, he felt something wrong.

Dread washed over him as he cursed his choice of the finest silks as the material was too slippery and threatened to fall off his finger.

No! 

If anyone were to see this, rumors would swirl—of a fate that wasn't meant to be. That they weren’t truly bound together, after all.

In a moment of panic, Tang Bo grabbed Chung Myung's hand to prevent the thread from slipping off. Chung Myung let out a startled yelp as Tang Bo desperately reached up to secure the knot—

the courtain fell

Hundreds of eyes were on them, so how could Tang Bo explain tying the knot himself?

Some watched with curiosity, others with confusion and disbelief, and a few with embarrassment, as though they had caught them doing something private indecent.

They needed to move, but should they do it like this? What were they supposed to do now? Tang Bo didn't know, he never expected this to happen, he wasn't prepared!

Chung Myung took the first step.

His hand, still tightly holding Tang Bo’s, guided him forward without hesitation, instantly melting his worries. Their pace was slow, unhurried, as if this was just a casual stroll.

The audience, the world, it all ceased to exist.

All that was left, was Tang Bo and Chung Myung.

A blush crept up Tang Bo's neck as he realized the position they were in. They were holding hands! It shouldn't feel like such a big deal… should it?

Thinking of which, didn't they usually drag each other by the sleeves? 

It felt warm…

This…

This!

His heart fluttered unexpectedly.

No, why is this more embarrassing than hugging each other at night!?

Such a childish… precious feeling. 

Tang Bo squeezed that firm, solid hand and wondered if his Hyung noticed how rare this moment was.

Chung Myung squeezed back, but his face was regretfully hidden. Chung Myung, on the other hand, was glad his violent scarlet cheeks were safe from all prying, perverted, not-giving-a-name eyes.

There was a gentle, cool breeze, still connecting the subtle shift of yesterday's winter with today's spring. Red was everywhere—adorned in their robes, in the decorations around them. Red, the color of joy, of good fortune, of new beginnings.

Tang Bo could barely hear it, but there was also music playing in the air, a distant sound as time ticked.

A hundred steps felt like an eternity.

They passed the empty chairs, everyone stood up to greet them, smiling sincerely. It was a more closed wedding with the Tangs, Mount Hua, Wudang, and a few envoys from Namgung and the Beggars.

A hundred steps felt like the blink of an eye.

They reached the final step. Their fingers interlocked, and for a moment, they shared the same thought, the same breath, before their gazes lifted to meet the end of the platform. There, the Taoist Monk, the Tang Patriarch, and the Mount Hua Sect Leader waited, all sitting in dignified grace.

The Monk stepped forward, his voice loud and clear as he called out.

"The couple has arrived!"

As the Monk unfurled the scroll and began reciting sutras, Tang Bo seized the moment of distraction to swiftly tie the string with only one hand, his fingers twisting around to keep the material secured.

It was painful to let go, but soon it was time for the bows. They both moved as one, a seamless reflection of each other, even in their awkwardness.

"First Bow: To Heaven and Earth!"

In perfect harmony, they arched their backs and lowered their heads, their movements fluid despite their usually carefree natures. They were honoring the gods, the universe, and the greater forces that had brought them here.

"Rise!"

The Saints lifted their heads, the world shifting around them as they moved to the next bow.

"Second Bow: To the ancestors and the parents!"

This bow was more personal, facing their respective elders. They kneeled, their foreheads touching the ground as they offered their respect to their ancestors, their families, and their lineage. Seeking the blessings of those who had come before them, the foundation of everything they were.

"Rise!"

Their movement was smooth, even the tug of their thread was barely felt as they shifted to face each other.

"Third Bow: Towards each other!"

It was the most intimate, sincere bow, signifying their respect and devotion to one another as husbands.

Tang Bo himself felt like crying beneath the heated cheeks.

"Rise!"

He barely heard the announcement of the official union, wishing nothing more than to see Chung Myung's face. Whoever made the rules to see your partner only at the end, in the bridal chambers, should be cursed to have a son with no ass!

As the day wore on, the couple found themselves surrounded by the festivities of the tea ceremony. Tang Bo took it upon himself to serve tea to the senior members of both families, pouring carefully for the elders, and receiving blessings and gifts in return. 

They could hardly spend time with their daughter, who was frequently in the care of either Chung Jin or Chung Mun.

The presentation, heavy with gifts, overflowed with offerings from both present and absent sects, went ignored by the Saints. Mere formalities.

At some point, they found themselves holding the string-tied wine goblets, the sweet, sticky liquor flowing down their throats. A little sticky, and not their usual taste, but it kept their thirst satiated for a little longer.

***

When the sun began its descent, the couple stood before the altar, incense curling into the air, filling the space with a calming scent. There was finally a quiet moment they shared alone.

"Hyung-nim?"

"Yes?"

"I want to see your face…"

"Just a little longer."

"Isn't it hard to breathe under?"

"I'm fine."

The words did not reassure Tang Bo, but there was no time to check.

"Alright then, let's get over with this!"

The moment they returned, a wave of confusion washed over them as a single petal fell. Spring had only just begun today, and the plums were not yet in bloom…

The Mount Hua Sect disciples were in formation, synchronizing their movements with flawless precision. The 24-Movement Plum Blossom technique unfolded before the guests' eyes. Their swords cut through the air in elegant arcs as their swords bloomed, releasing a flurry of vibrant, varying shades of scarlet and wine-rosé.

The disciples flew gracefully, and the crowd marveled in astonishment. Witnessing one disciple perform the plum blossom? Yes, more often than not as they were a highly known sect. But to see them all move in perfect harmony—creating a swirling, lush forest of petals—pure fantasy.

Eyes that do not witness, will never believe.

Chung Myung, who stood quietly in the midst of it all, would never admit tearing up, nobody could see anyway.

Tang Bo stood frozen, caught in a moment of awe. Among all these flowers… they were so much different from his partner's, yet none were as beautiful. If he had to choose, Chung Myung's blossoms would always be the most dazzling—like the brightest firefly in the forest—the one that shone like a star.

***

The last part started late, but it felt as if the world had stopped during that spectacular display. The tables were full of laughter, as the atmosphere was set. 

And soon, the celebration reached its grand conclusion with a lavish banquet that was nothing short of spectacular. 

The long tables were laden with an array of delicacies, each one carefully chosen to symbolize prosperity, happiness, and fertility. Golden-roasted meats glistened beneath delicate sauces, vibrant seasonal fruits burst with color, and intricately designed pastries tempted both the eye and the taste buds.

The guests indulged in the culinary delights as the air buzzed with laughter and the clinking of glasses. 

Musicians filled the space with melodies, flowing from lively tunes to soulful ballads, perfectly setting the mood for the evening. Dancers twirled across the room, their colorful robes a blur of motion, captivating the audience. 

Heartfelt toasts were raised in honor of the newlyweds, filled with blessings for a future full of promise. The night unfolded like a tapestry, each moment a thread in the grand celebration of one of life’s sweetest joys.

***

Thump!

Tang Bo's heart raced with each step as he led Chung Myung toward the bridal chambers. Behind them, the sounds of celebration echoed, their guests reveling late into the night while the couple had other… matters to attend to. 

Once the door clicked shut, a wave of comfort washed over them, allowing them to breathe freely.

"It’s over!" Chung Myung declared, exhaustion lacing his voice, but Tang Bo wasn’t ready to celebrate just yet.

"Not yet," he replied, his hands gently cupping Chung Myung's face, his smile warm and affectionate.

"I want to see my husband's face."

With that, he lifted the veil, revealing Chung Myung’s flawless skin. His eyes were slightly flushed in a drunken-like hue and contoured by modest makeup. To be fair, Chung Myung was already breathtaking. The cosmetics were merely tradition, yet they added a youthful spark to his appearance.

"I missed this," Tang Bo murmured, his thumb brushing over Chung Myung's soft cheek.

Chung Myung's blush depended and his lips pressed, slightly uncomfortable. Tang Bo frowned and kept speaking.

"You… Honestly, I was half expecting you to get annoyed halfway and just run away."

"You seem to hold quite a high opinion of me," Chung Myung growled with a pout.

A light chuckle escaped Tang Bo, "I just wanted to say thank you." He wrapped his arms around Chung Myung, pulling him close in a tight embrace. "Thank you for being my husband."

"...You too."

They settled into a comfortable position, swaying gently like a parent rocking a child to sleep. The warmth between them felt right, almost dreamy. 

Chung Myung's eyebrows twitched.

"What are you doing?"

Tang Bo perked up, his expression feigning innocence.

"Well, it's the wedding night."

"And that’s your excuse for shamelessly groping my ass?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

Chung Myung stared at him in disbelief, a hint of incredulity mingling with amusement. "You’re insufferable." Pushing him away, Chung Myung turned to the bed.

"I'm tired, let's just sleep."

Tang Bo felt a jolt of alarm as he caught hold of Chung Myung's robe.

"Wait, wait, wait!" 

"What? Let go, you bastard!" Chung Myung snapped, trying to shake him off.

"No, wait, H-Hyung! What about the ceremonial night?"

"We'll do it another night."

"It has to be tonight!"

Tang Bo tugged frantically at the fabric as Chung Myung attempted to escape.

"Let go, why won't you let go?"

"Hyung-nim, husband, dear, please??"

"Nuh-uh! Those teary puppy eyes won’t work this time!"

"Pleaseeeee!"

In his desperation, Tang Bo yanked harder than he intended, and suddenly, the silk robe slipped away from Chung Myung’s sturdy frame, leaving him… not quite naked?

This…

Tang Bo tilted his head, unsure if he was seeing correctly. Chung Myung's face turned a violent shade of red, arms flailing in a futile attempt to cover himself.

That…

A thin, transparent fabric wrapped around Chung Myung’s chest and waist, clinging to his body like a teasing whisper, threatening to slip away at the slightest tug. It concealed almost nothing, the size clearly too small, and whatever remained hidden beneath it gave Tang Bo the tantalizing feeling of a gift waiting to be opened.

The Dark Saint barely remembered suggesting that Chung Myung wear women’s lingerie for their wedding night, more as a joke than anything serious… but now? He definitely wasn’t complaining!

Tang Bo's eyes narrowed into hungry slits, his gaze devouring Chung Myung's form, and his erection twitched impatiently. Well, he did save himself the last few days, maybe weeks.

His body aching, hungry, eager to claim his husband.

"So… thoughts on?" Chung Myung asked timidly, in an attempt to ease the tension. His voice low and husky and Tang Bo's instincts instantly reacted.

"No. Thoughts are currently off."

Tang Bo stalked forward, pushing Chung Myung onto the bed. The sheets were silk, the best in their possession, and yet, they couldn't compare to the feeling of his lover's skin against his own.

"Chung Myung-ah," Tang Bo murmured, his breath hot against Chung Myung's ear, "will you allow this husband of yours to touch you?

"Shameless bastard…" Chung Myung breathed, but there was no real protest in his voice.

"Yes, I am shameless," Tang Bo agreed, his hands roaming over Chung Myung's body. "How could there be any shame between spouses?"

Chung Myung was left speechless.

The two bodies fit perfectly together, bathing in a shared warmth. Their hands freely caressed each other, taking pleasure in each sensation. Every touch was a spark, creating a blaze that soon enveloped them. 

Their lips met in a searing kiss, tongues tangling as they tried to get closer, to become one. The desire only grew stronger, an insatiable need that demanded to be fulfilled.

Tang Bo slid his hands down Chung Myung's waist, wanting more than a taste of him, he wanted the whole damn meal. His fingers brushed the sensitive skin, digging under the cloth, he didn't want to remove it just yet; it was a gift from Chung Myung after all.

Maybe he'll take it off later when he's done playing with it.

As the fabric slid over Tang Bo's hands, it felt smooth and cool against his fingertips, but it quickly grew too hot as Chung Myung squirmed in his embrace. Tang Bo sighed, satisfied. This was the life!

"You're a freak," Chung Myung breathed huskily, his voice already thick and heavy.

"Maybe, but you still love me."

"I hate you," Chung Myung panted out.

"Is that so?" Tang Bo leaned over, pressing kisses along the exposed skin. He nipped and licked each spot, making his lover shiver in delight. His hand slid under the cloth, cupping that butt and giving it a rough squeeze.

"Your body says otherwise~" Tang Bo licked and bit the earlobe before pulling away.

Chung Myung bit back a tormented moan."Stop teasing me and just—"

"Just what?" Tang Bo asked innocently.

No, this leech dares play dumb?

Chung Myung tilted his head to the side, refusing to look Tang Bo in the eyes, and promptly shut his vocal cords.

"Ah, n-no, Hyung, I'm sorry!" Tang Bo stopped to placate his lover. "I was in the wrong, forgive this foolish and stupid newlywed spouse."

"I want a divorce," Chung Myung grumbled, but there was no real conviction behind it.

"No!" Tang Bo desperately pleaded. "I'm sorry, I was wrong! Hyung-nim, you don't actually mean it… do you?"

"Agh!" Chung Myung couldn't stand it anymore and grabbed Tang Bo's head. "Just fuck me already, you crazy bastard!"

In a flash, a bottle of oil appeared in Tang Bo's hand, and he poured a generous amount over Chung Myung's body, his hands massaging the slick liquid into his lover's skin. 

Tang Bo's fingers kneaded down Chung Myung's center, over his chest, down his stomach, and over the round ass he craved to be inside. He pushed two fingers in, curling them as Chung Myung hissed a gasp, spreading his legs wider.

Tang Bo gave him a few moments to adjust before moving inside. With each slow thrust, Chung Myung clenched around his fingers, still as tight as ever. Once his lover was writhing beneath him, Tang Bo added a third finger, scissoring the insides in preparation.

Tang Bo crooked his finger and hit that spot, watching Chung Myung twitch, gasp, and shiver around him. His gaze was entranced by the way his partner squirmed, the flush spreading over his face and the sweat forming over his body. His cock throbbed at the sight.

"Husband..." Chung Myung whimpered with hunger. "More..."

"!!?!!?!"

Wasting no more time, Tang Bo's two fingers were soon replaced by his cock, sliding inside to fill Chung Myung in a way that only he could do. His hips moved in a slow, calculated rhythm. Each push and pull sent pleasure through Chung Myung's soul and made him tremble more beneath him.

Tang Bo groaned as he slowly increased the pace, turning Chung Myung into a mess of whines and moans.

"Haa— ah, ah, ah~"

"Hyung-nim..." he called out of habit, only to notice the lack of response almost immediately. Jealousy filled his chest as he watched Chung Myung. On their wedding night? Not on his watch!

Tang Bo stopped abruptly, and Chung Myung's protest came instantly

"What are you— T-Tang Bo?"

The Dark Saint pretended not to hear as he flipped Chung Myung onto his fours.

"How cruel of you, to leave me alone on this night!" He sighed dramatically, climbing onto Chung Myung's back before shoving himself back inside. Chung Myung's body rocked back and forth as he realized his predicament.

"B-Bo-yah, I'll fall!" he yelled, putting his strength into his arms and legs while Tang Bo rode him impatiently.

Once again, his words were ignored, and Tang Bo continued to plunge and stretch him deep. It felt so good that Chung Myung could feel his eyes roll— No, he can't!

If his mind left now, they would fall, and it would all come to another abrupt stop. Chung Myung was forced to stay aware.

"Bastard! Didn't you say you wanted to see my face?" he tried to reason, but Tang Bo was determined to have his way.

I feel like my lower stomach is going to burst!

Tang Bo slowed his movements to grab Chung Myung's chin and lift it straight. There was a huge mirror by the bed, showing his entire shameful appearance.

"Isn't my husband handsome?" Tang Bo cooed, his voice filled with adoration."Look at yourself, taking my cock so well."

No, Chung Myung wanted to protest, but all that came out was a strangled moan. "Hng— Aah!"

His eyes widened at the debauched sight reflected back at him in the mirror. His hair was wild, cheeks flushed, and lips swollen from Tang Bo's kisses. A thin stream of drool dripped from the corner of his mouth as Tang Bo's thrusts rocked him forward, his tip faintly outlined on Chung Myung's stomach each time Tang Bo's hilt pushed against Chung Myung's buttcheeks.

Was this what Tang Bo always saw?

His eyes burned with a pricking sensation and Chung Myung closed them, trying to erase the image of himself, but this only made the other situation worse.

Usually, he would let his mind go blank, but now he had to stay aware so they wouldn't fall. He could feel every pump, every thrust down to the most subtle detail. With his eyes closed, he couldn't even anticipate that bastard's hands finding his nipples.

"Uhg, h-ugh!"

"See what I mean?" Tang Bo crooned. "Even your noises are beautiful. So musical, I could listen all day."

Chung Myung buried his face into the sheets to muffle his whines as Tang Bo rammed inside him.

"Fuuuck…"

His legs trembled as if he had a fever, and his ass felt like it would split open any minute now. Yet... it felt so damn good . He could feel himself gushing, his ass overflowing and his muscles on the verge of giving up.

There was no energy left, his lower body ached, and he wanted to collapse. Chung Myung's whole body felt both hot and cold, covered in sweat like a river.

"I can't—" he cried out."I'll faall~Ahh!"

Tang Bo leaned over him, the fabric rubbing against his ass, and bit Chung Myung's ear.

"You'll be fine, Hyung," he murmured. "You're strong, my man, my husband." Tang Bo's tongue licked down Chung Myung's neck, sucking the sweat as he whispered sweet nothings to him, all the while his hips kept thrusting inside.

"Ugh— uuh— Tang Bo—ah!" Chung Myung's voice was filled with pleasure and exhaustion.

"Hmmm, what?" Tang Bo teased with satisfaction.

"I… I'm—"

"I know~" Tang Bo hummed. "My hubby is such a good man, you'll endure it for me."

That bastard!

Despite his complaints, his hole clenched, the muscles contracting over Tang Bo's cock. There were too many sensations that he could no longer differentiate.

"Uwaah—!"

Tang Bo was barely holding back when he felt Chung Myung explode beneath him, cumming on the sheets as he orgasmed. His muscles clenched and unclenched violently around him.

I didn't even touch you there. Tang Bo remarked silently. He's teasing alright, but he doesn't want to play with fire too much.

He sped up his thrusts to match the contractions, and the two cried out in unison. Their bodies clenched as the pleasure peaked, the air around them feeling like a burning flame as Tang Bo came inside.

As round one was over, Chung Myung collapsed under Tang Bo's weight, the sheets underneath them soaked in cum and sweat. The silk cloth around his waist was in tatters, and his whole body trembled under the aftershocks.

Tang Bo was panting while admiring his husband's face until his actions dawned on him.

"Ah! Hyung-nim, I'm sorry— I don't know what came over me…"

Chung Myung doesn't remember ever being fully awake to feel every action with such clarity, much less his climax… To be honest with himself, it felt good. 

"Really? It felt good?"

Fuck, he just thought out loud, didn't he?

Well, whatever.

"Take it off," Chung Myung commanded.

"What?"

"My clothes."

"A-ah, yes!" Tang Bo devotedly slid the material away and waited for the next command.

Chung Myung flipped himself on his back and calmed his breath. Sure, feeling everything is kind of good, but it doesn't compare to the usual experience. 

Grabbing his thighs, Chung Myung brought his knees to his chest, exposing his shameless hole to that pervert's eyes.

"Fuck me properly."

"As you wish, your majesty!" Tang Bo faithfully grabbed that finely sculpted body and fucked Chung Myung into sweet oblivion.

Chapter Text

The years swept past like autumn leaves adrift on the wind, vanishing before they could be caught. Mist curled around the rooftops of the mountain village below, while the steadfast cries of training disciples echoed through the dawn, a hymn to time’s unrelenting march.

High upon the great Hua Mountain, where jagged peaks pierced the heavens and ancient trees stood as silent witnesses to countless generations, the clang of swords rang through the crisp air.

Yet within the modest courtyard, beyond the ruthless yet mesmerizing dance of falling petals, wisdom flows through Taoism, and purity lingers in the heart. 

And what could be purer than the gentle side of life itself?

Heavy footsteps creaked against the wooden floor as a broad-shouldered man strode through the courtyard. His face, stoic yet striking, bore an air of quiet strength, while his long, dazzling dark hair, tied high in a ponytail, swayed with each step.

"Ah-Ya?" Chung Myung called out, met only with silence. Clicking his tongue in mild frustration, he pushed open the door to Tang Bo’s small study—the place where he lost himself in his endless experiments with medicine and poison.

Inside, the room’s humble owner sat by a worn wooden table, hands tucked neatly into his sleeves. A fierce frown darkened his face, as if he were engaged in a silent battle of wills with the plants before him.

"Have you seen Ah-Ya?" Chung Myung inquired, his tone even as his sharp gaze settled on his noble-looking partner.

Tang Bo chuckled, though a single bead of sweat betrayed him. "She ran from training again?" he asked lightly. Yet there was something unsettling in the Plum Blossom Sword Saint’s calm, unreadable expression.

"En," Chung Myung confirmed, his stare unyielding.

Tang Bo had to bite back a shiver. He adored those gorgeous lotuses—the way they analyzed his every movement, the way they drank in his unique aroma—but at this moment, it felt as though the Grim Reaper himself was watching, waiting for the slightest misstep.

"I haven't seen her."

Chung Myung’s eyes narrowed, lingering on him a fraction too long. The weight of that silence pressed against the room before, at last, he turned and strode away.

With a relieved breath, Tang Bo steadied his racing heart.

"Did he leave?" a hushed voice whispered.

"Yeah..." Tang Bo replied, watching as his daughter crawled out from the safety of his sleeve.

He knew he was gambling with his life by lying to his wife, but what was he supposed to do when his daughter clung to him and declared, "Hide me, or I’ll hate you forever"?

If anything, it was Chung Myung’s fault. After all, that was where Tang Myung-Ya had learned the cruel trick in the first place.

"Training is good," Tang Bo lightly scolded, if only to maintain the appearance of a responsible father.

Tang Myung-Ya fidgeted, hesitating before mumbling, "Papa's scary..." She adored her male mother, truly, but his training methods were... sapa-like.

It shouldn’t have been surprising, really—Chung Myung, who once ran from training as a child, now seemed the most excited when it came to training his daughter.

And just like her father, she was a genius with the sword. Thankfully, her temperament was—

...No. Never mind. She was, without a doubt, fully her father’s daughter.

One might think Chung Myung had somehow cloned himself. The number of times Chung Mun had yanked at his own hair—not just from catching Tang Myung-Ya sneaking alcohol, but from realizing that Chung Myung himself had been the one handing it to her—was beyond counting. 

Even now, Tang Bo could still hear the ringing in his ears from the scolding the couple faced that day.

A bead of sweat dripped down Tang Bo's neck as he imagined what Chung Mun would do if she found out Tang Bo had been feeding her daughter poison for training.

"Dad, I want to go out and play," Tang Myung-Ya tugged at his robe, her voice soft but insistent.

"Wait until your papa calms down," Tang Bo replied, anxiety prickling at his spine. "He'll kill us both if he catches us." The mere thought made a cold shiver run down his back.

"I want to play too, though?"

"..."

….

"Papa! T-there you are!" Tang Myung-Ya spread her arms wide, pretending to have finally found him after searching high and low. Just… her acting skills were also inherited from Chung Myung.

"Here I am! Let’s go out to play!" Chung Myung declared, pointing behind him, toward the highest peak of Mount Hua.

Tang Myung-Ya swallowed hard, clasping her hands behind her back before tilting her head up, her large puppy eyes shimmering with innocent charm. "But Ah-Ya wants to play with swords," she murmured sweetly.

Once, that look might have worked. But Chung Myung had long since built immunity to such tricks.

"Good try. Run."

Tang Myung-Ya’s shoulders slumped. Muttering complaints about how her papa didn’t love her anymore, she nevertheless turned on her heel and obediently took off.

Watching the scene unfold, Tang Bo chuckled as he stepped closer, his voice tinged with amusement. "Haha, kids are really crafty, aren't they?" He leaned in to press a quick kiss to his lover’s cheek.

"What are you doing?" Chung Myung asked, plucking Tang Bo’s lips off his cheek.

With an innocent, starry-eyed gaze, Tang Bo tilted his head like a fox. "Appreciating my handsome husband?"

Chung Myung’s expression remained unimpressed. "I said run."

Still acting cute, Tang Bo pointed to himself, eyes wide, as if to ask, "Me too?" before batting his lashes dramatically.

Chung Myung smiled—but it was the kind that made men tremble. "If Ah-Ya reaches the top before you, I’ll tie rocks to your kneecaps and make you run up the mountain on your hands."

Tang Bo’s face drained of color. Without another word, he stumbled forward and bolted up the mountain. After all, Chung Myung punishes worse than he threatens to. As the saying goes, actions speak louder than words.

It was a trait that, strangely enough, had left Tang Bo hopelessly smitten.

***

"I'm dead!" Tang Myung-Ya wailed as she collapsed onto the ground, limbs sprawled dramatically.

Chung Myung’s hands twitched for a brief moment, his protective instincts nearly kicking in, but he held firm. "Good job." Was all he said.

"Don't I get praise too? I reached the top first." Tang Bo panted as he flopped down beside his daughter, seemingly spent. It wasn't the run that got him sweating, but the constant glare behind his back.

"As you should have," Chung Myung shrugged. "Why would I praise you?"

Tang Bo's head fell. He disliked being scolded by Chung Myung—mostly because it was always for good reason. The man’s sharp eyes saw through every excuse, every act of deception.

Still... "Can’t you just praise me because I'm pretty?" Tang Bo whined, pouting.

Chung Myung didn’t reply—not with words, at least. Instead, the corner of his lips twitched upward, forming the faintest hint of a smile.

It was enough to send a flutter through Tang Bo's heart. Even after years of marriage, his weakness for Chung Myung remained entirely intact. In fact, it only grew each day.

With a mix of fondness and pride, Chung Myung hoisted Tang Myung-Ya onto his shoulders and started the descent down the mountain. The child's exhaustion was quickly forgotten as she giggled and squealed, reaching out to grasp at the leaves and branches around her.

Then—

"Sahyung!"

A chorus of frantic cries rushed toward him. Chung Myung barely sighed before turning, already suspecting what this was about. His Sajils rarely sought him out unless—

Thwack!

His fist landed squarely on their heads before they could even finish their approach.

"Ack—wait! We didn’t even say what we’re here for!" one of them wailed, clutching their head as if gravely wronged.

Chung Myung clicked his tongue, tapping his foot impatiently. "Is that so? Then you’re telling me you didn’t get beaten by those Zhongnan bastards again?"

"..."

"So?"

One of them fidgeted. "That… we did. But—ACK!"

"That… we did but— ACK!" 

Another sharp smack.

Irritation simmered in Chung Myung’s mind. He could already picture those smug blue-robed cowards gloating over their so-called victory. Chung Mun would no doubt punish him for this later, but—

Like hell he was letting this slide.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and bolted straight for Xi'an, leaving his Sajils behind.

***

Perched atop her father’s shoulders, partially forgotten as she was carted away, Tang Myung-Ya lazily raised a finger, her expression bored and indifferent.

"Papa, that one’s trying to run away."

Chung Myung’s eyes flicked to the fleeing Zhongnan disciple.

"Good eye!" he praised, hurling his scabbard with practiced ease. It struck the unfortunate man squarely on the head, dropping him like a sack of rice.

Dusting off his hands, Chung Myung turned away, already set on getting a drink—and maybe some food—before heading home.

"Papa?"

"Hm?"

Tang Myung-Ya twirled a few strands of his rebellious hair between her fingers, hesitating. Then, with some reluctance, she asked, "When can I beat up a Zhongnan guy?"

"When you're sure you won't lose."

She perked up. "Can I try now?"

"Yeah. But if you lose, I’ll disown you."

"..."

Sweat dripped down Tang Myung-Ya’s neck. It was rare, but that was actually an empty threat. There was no way her father would abandon his own child—but the consequences would surely make her wish he would.

Before she could reconsider her life choices, a strong hand grabbed her by the scruff and gently set her down on the ground.

"This inn has pretty good food. Want something?" Chung Myung asked, pushing aside the entrance curtain and letting his smaller self scurry inside.

"Pork!" she answered instantly, her voice tinged with excitement.

Inside, a busboy greeted them and led them to an empty table upstairs by the window. As soon as they settled in, Chung Myung leaned back, stretching slightly before ordering:

"A plate of jiaozi, two bowls of red-braised pork belly, and two bottles of baijiu."

"Ehm…" The server glanced at the young child for a moment, but Chung Myung soon waved away his concern.

"Both bottles are for me."

"Eh!?" Tang Myung-Ya groaned. "Why?"

"I don't want Sahyung nagging me again."

At the mention of her uncle and Sasuk, Chung Mun, a shiver ran down Tang Myung Ya’s spine. Memories of his endless lectures flashed through her mind and her protests died instantly. With a defeated pout, she slumped against the table, fully aware that no amount of whining would change her fate.

Fortunately, her disappointment didn’t last long. As soon as the food arrived, she dove in with the kind of enthusiasm only a growing child could muster. Despite barely reaching Chung Myung’s upper leg in height, she tore through her meal like a starving bandit.

Chung Myung let her eat to her heart’s content before leisurely starting on his own meal. By the time he downed the last drop of liquor, Tang Myung-Ya was curled up on the bench, snoring peacefully.

He glanced at her, then stretched lazily, rubbing his chin. "I should buy some eel…" he muttered, already planning the next day’s dinner.

***

Tang Bo paced in circles, his steps quick and restless. The moon hung high in the sky, yet his wife and child had yet to return home.

Could something have happened? No—Chung Myung was there.

Biting his nails, his mind raced through every possibility, each more outrageous than the last, until he was nearly ready to turn all of Gangho upside down to find them.

Then, at last, the door creaked open.

"Hyung-nim?" Tang Bo rushed forward, nearly colliding with Chung Myung before stopping short, exhaling a deep sigh of relief.

"Why are you up so late?" Chung Myung asked, stepping inside and carelessly kicking off his shoes. Nestled securely in the crook of his left arm, Tang Myung-Ya slept soundly, her small form rising and falling with each breath.

"Why are you so late?" Tang Bo shot back, though his voice instinctively lowered at the sight of the sleeping girl.

"I caught these," Chung Myung said as he shoved a bucket of murky water into his arms.

Blinking, Tang Bo peered into the bucket, catching a glimpse of something wriggling beneath the surface. Then, he took note of the damp hem of Chung Myung’s robe.

"Caught?" he repeated, confused.

"Eels. Cook me some tomorrow," Chung Myung clarified, already making his way toward their daughter’s room. He carefully tucked her into bed, brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead.

"Couldn't you have just bought some?"

"They were sold out."

Tang Bo sighed, rubbing his temple to ease his exhaustion. "Alright, let’s just go to bed." He began to walk toward their bedroom, only to halt mid-step when Chung Myung didn't follow. 

"Hyung-nim?"

Chung Myung didn’t answer right away. Instead, he lingered by their daughter's door, staring for a moment before finally stepping out and closing it behind him. His gaze flickered to Tang Bo, unreadable.

"Were you that worried about me?"

Tang Bo zoned out for a second, slightly taken aback. "Eh?"

"Did you really think someone could have defeated me?" Chung Myung's tone lacked its usual sharpness, carrying a genuine curiosity about Tang Bo's concerns.

"No, not really… but…" Tang Bo's voice trailed off. He knew his fears were irrational—Chung Myung was the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, after all. But that didn’t stop the gnawing unease that crept in whenever he wasn’t by his side.

Chung Myung took a slow step forward, closing the space between them. His sharp eyes locked onto Tang Bo’s with a mischievous, teasing intent.

"I've heard my Sasuks say that love makes one stupid," he remarked with a faint smile, amusement lacing his words. "Didn't think it would apply to people who are already stupid to begin with."

"Hey—"

Tang Bo's protest was cut short as Chung Myung leaned in, pressing their lips together. The kiss was gentle yet warm, enveloping Tang Bo in a comforting embrace. Despite a twinge of embarrassment, he melted into the affection, his earlier anxieties dissipating like mist.

"I promise you that as long as I'm alive, I won't let anything happen to me—any of us," Chung Myung whispered into his ear, pulling back slightly. He glanced at him, his smile lingering as he asked, "Is this enough to make you less stupid?"

His voice held a playful tone, but the sincerity in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Ha..." With a dry laugh, Tang Bo reached up to ruffle his husband's hair. "Yeah." He chuckled, "But maybe I’ll still be a little worried."

"Stupid." Chung Myung playfully tapped his head with a chop before walking toward their bedroom. "Leave the eels in the kitchen before coming to bed."

Tang Bo watched him go like a love-struck maiden before remembering the bucket. "Ah, I forgot," he muttered, heading to the kitchen.

Setting the bucket down on a counter, he opened a cabinet, reaching for a salt jar. For some time, Tang Bo worked in silence, his mind far away. 

Eventually, the soft pitter-patter of steps approached behind him, followed by Chung Myung's lazy voice. "Aren't you coming to bed?"

"I need to prepare the eels for tomorrow," Tang Bo explained as a vengeful tease crept into his voice. "Why, missed me already?"

"..." There was a pause, then Chung Myung’s presence closed in behind him. He wrapped his arms around Tang Bo, resting his head on his shoulder, his hair falling to obscure his face. With a soft, almost embarrassed tone, he whispered, "Guess I’m stupid too."

The warmth of Chung Myung’s embrace felt so natural, so comforting, that a fond smile spread across Tang Bo’s lips. He leaned back into the hug, savoring the closeness.

"I’ll hurry up, then," Tang Bo murmured, his heart feeling lighter.

Eels do sound good for tomorrow.

Chapter Text

Chung Myung eyed the dish before him with open disdain, while Tang Bo stood expectantly, arms crossed. The Tang family prided themselves on their culinary skills, but rare, exotic dishes were usually reserved for their own. Of course, Chung Myung wasn’t exactly an outsider—no, even if they weren’t married, Tang Bo would still insist on giving him only the best of the best.

It’s just… some of these looked questionable.

"Are you sure these are edible?"

Tang Bo scoffed, looking thoroughly offended. "Are you doubting my skills?"

"No, but…" Chung Myung hesitated, still debating whether to take a bite. "I’ve heard of people eating these, yet somehow, they don’t inspire much confidence."

"Scorpions aren't just savory, they also have many health benefits!" Tang Bo argued with a small pout.

Chung Myung sighed, already regretting his life choices, but finally caved. He stabbed the smallest scorpion on the plate and popped it into his mouth. A loud crunch echoed through the room, followed by the faintest hiss of the spicy sauce.

Tang Bo leaned in expectantly. "Well?"

Chung Myung chewed thoughtfully, rolling the taste around in his mouth before swallowing. He remained silent for a moment, as if deep in contemplation, then let out a quiet hum.

"Not bad," he finally said, stabbing another one without hesitation. "Spicy, crunchy... could use some wine."

"I thought about adding some to the pot, but I wanted Ah-Ya to try it too." Tang Bo turned to the child, who had been silently hoping to avoid attention.

"Nuh-uh!" Tang Myung-Ya shook her head firmly. "Not touching that."

"It's actually good," Chung Myung encouraged, but she stubbornly refused.

"Alright then, your loss." He shrugged before turning back to his plate. "The others are having grass if you're hungry."

Tang Myung-Ya's shoulders slumped, but then a spark of mischief lit up her eyes. "I'm going to blackmail Uncle Jin," she announced before dashing off.

Chung Myung raised an eyebrow at Tang Bo. "Blackmail?"

"Don't look at me, I didn't teach her that."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that."

"I didn’t!"

A small, amused smile tugged at Chung Myung’s lips. "Smart girl," he murmured before silently returning to his meal.

The spicy aftertaste lingered on his tongue—bold, with a jerky-like texture and a faint fishy aroma. The crispy shell held onto just enough of the sauce to balance the flavor, making each bite unexpectedly enjoyable and leaving him wanting more.

Tang Bo found himself watching him, lost in thought. After a beat, he placed a few scorpions on his own plate, and they continued eating in comfortable silence, the only sounds being the occasional crunch. 

As they ate, Tang Bo stole quiet glances at the man beside him, still occasionally struck by the sheer improbability of it all.

How lucky was he to be married to such a beautiful man? The thought still boggled his mind.

Chung Myung was both brilliant and absurd, powerful yet ridiculous in equal measure. Their personalities complemented each other well, but somehow, together, they were even bigger fools than they were apart.

The thought made him chuckle under his breath. 

He watched as Chung Myung finished the last scorpion, a quiet, satisfied sigh escaping his lips.

"Bo-yah?"

"Yes?"

"I think I'm ready for a second one."

"Oh?" Tang Bo’s face brightened as he stood to refill the dish. "Did you like it that much?"

"..."

Chung Myung said nothing, simply watching him with an unreadable expression. Tang Bo hesitated for a moment, confused by the sudden scrutiny—but as soon as he placed the plate in front of him, Chung Myung wordlessly picked up his chopsticks and started eating again.

***

"Dad?"

Tang Bo watched the clouds drift lazily across the sky, an odd feeling bubbling in the back of his mind. He couldn't quite place it, but something felt... off.

"Dad?"

It wasn’t sickness—he was the Dark Saint, after all. Could it be exhaustion? Maybe he hadn't been sleeping enough.

"Dad!"

A sharp yell rang in his ears, jolting him from his thoughts. He winced, rubbing his ear as he looked down at his visibly upset daughter.

"What’s wrong, sweetie?" He crouched beside her, offering a sheepish smile.

"You said we were playing hide and seek," Tang Myung-Ya grumbled, arms crossed.

"Ah… right." He blinked, feeling a twinge of guilt. "Should I hide, then?"

"I already counted!" she huffed, stomping her foot. "You didn’t hide!"

"Oh... did you really?"

"Yes!"

Tang Bo frowned, scratching his head. Had he really zoned out for that long?

"I'm sorry, Ah-Ya. I got distracted. Let’s do it properly this time."

The girl’s face brightened with excitement, and she gave him a small push. "Go hide!" she shouted eagerly, spinning around to cover her eyes and start counting.

She kept her head down as he walked off, and when he was sure she wasn’t peeking, he moved swiftly and silently, slipping behind one of the large trees.

He waited as a faint "Ready or not, here I come!" drifted through the air.

A moment later, a small figure rushed out, peering around the area. He remained hidden as he listened to her footsteps growing farther away in the distance, and his head fell as he tried to figure out what was bothering him.

'Is it because I'm tired?' Or was it something else?

***

"Bo-yah, are you listening?"

Tang Bo blinked, snapping out of his thoughts as Chung Myung waved a hand in front of his face. He realized he had zoned out—again. This wasn’t the first time today.

They were having dinner, yet his mind kept drifting elsewhere.

"Not really," Tang Bo admitted, shaking his head. "I think I’m just a little tired. What were you saying?"

"Sahyung said we're going to start accepting disciples for the Myung generation soon," Chung Myung repeated.

Tang Bo perked up slightly. "That’s good news, isn’t it?"

"Yeah, but… she's going to be a lot younger than the others. Kind of like me."

"And is that a problem?"

"Sahyung said to keep her away from the new disciples for the first few days. Not sure why, though." Chung Myung frowned, unsure why he felt slightly offended as he recalled the words.

Tang Bo sighed, rubbing his temple. "That’s obvious…" he muttered under his breath before adding, "I’ll ask her to be nicer… not that she’d listen."

Chung Myung tilted his head, confused. Was he the only one who didn’t see the issue? Well, if no one explained it to him, it probably wasn’t important.

With a shrug, he returned to his meal, savoring the blissful peace of an undisturbed dinner.

***

Tang Bo stared up at the dark ceiling. It was likely late at night, or maybe even early morning, and yet, he was still wide awake.

Chung Myung was sprawled across him, their limbs tangled together, holding him as if he might slip away otherwise. It wasn’t unusual. Tang Bo ran warm, and his lover clung to him like a lizard basking on a sun-warmed rock. His soft, even snores filled the quiet room, low and cute.

Tang Bo felt immense guilt for disturbing his peaceful rest.

"Hyung-nim?"

He wasn’t sure why he called him, but Chung Myung responded with a sleepy hum, his voice fading as if he might fall asleep any second.

"I… this morning," Tang Bo began, suddenly realizing what had been nagging at him all day. "When you said you were ready for a second one..."

Chung Myung opened his eyes lazily, just enough to catch a glimpse of him. Even in the dim light, his eyes still held that same vibrant glow.

Tang Bo swallowed, his heart stuttering. "Did you mean… a child?"

Chung Myung hummed again, stretching before nestling closer. "I did." He sounded unsurprised, as if it had been obvious all along—Tang Bo was just slow to catch up. Settling into a comfortable position, Chung Myung murmured a good night before drifting back into sleep.

"I see…" Tang Bo whispered, pulling the blanket up around them both and pressing a soft kiss to the crown of his lover’s head. "Good night, Honey."

…

Tang Bo's eyes snapped open.

'Wait… a second child?'

No, was he hallucinating from the lack of sleep?

'Me and Hyung-nim having another?!'

His thoughts raced as the realization truly sank in. Suddenly, he became acutely aware of Chung Myung’s weight atop him—every limb, every point of contact. He could pinpoint exactly where each part of his lover's body rested against him.

He swallowed hard, trying to calm himself. His heart pounded so loudly he feared it might wake Chung Myung, yet a fool’s grin tugged at his lips. He felt like he was floating.

Cloud nine? No, higher than that.

Childish and giddy, Tang Bo bit his hand to stifle his laughter. There was so much to do, so much to prepare, time was wasting away but—!

He glanced down at the man sleeping soundly on his chest.

No.

Nothing was more important than his lover's comfort.

Taking a deep breath, Tang Bo forced himself to stay still. He stared at the ceiling, barely blinking, and was surprised to find the night slipping away faster than he expected.

"Did you sleep at all?"

Chung Myung's voice was laced with amusement as he stirred, eyes opening to meet Tang Bo’s. He wore a knowing smile, his gaze glinting with the kind of mischief that suggested he was fully aware of Tang Bo’s sleepless night and found it entertaining.

Tang Bo, still grinning like an idiot, admitted without hesitation, "I got too excited."

His fingers absently trailed over Chung Myung’s body, tracing familiar lines and warmth, as if he couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t thinking anymore—just feeling. Just basking in the presence of the man he loved.

Tang Bo felt like a newlywed again—flushed with excitement, unsure whether to be embarrassed or just accept it as it was.

After all, there was nothing wrong with it.

It was normal to feel this way. They were going to have another child. Another precious life. And that thought alone filled him with so much warmth that he decided to simply bask in it.

"You're being stupid again," Chung Myung muttered, reaching out to tug at Tang Bo’s wide, foolish smile. 

Instead of arguing, Tang Bo chuckled and leaned in, capturing Chung Myung’s lips in a kiss. It was slow, deep affection that Chung Myung received kindly, sighing into the contact.

The sun had begun its slow ascent outside, but inside, time felt suspended as the two of them got caught in a passionate moment.

Tang Bo’s tongue slipped past his lover’s lips in a teasing, twisting motion as if tasting a sweet candy. He pulled Chung Myung closer, hands slipping beneath soft robes, fingertips trailing over smooth skin in search of their cherry prize.

"Ah~" A breathy moan left Chung Myung’s lips as Tang Bo found his mark, rolling the sensitive nipples between his fingers. "W–wait, ah—Bo-ya…"

"What's wrong?" Tang Bo pulled back to nibble lightly at the flushed skin of his lover's ear.

"It’s… early morning," Chung Myung panted, his voice slightly strained. "What if someone comes?"

"Nobody will come," Tang Bo tried to assure Chung Myung and his mouth moved back inside the other's to coax it personally.

Chung Myung moaned against the invading tongue, his head spinning as his body grew hotter—

The door slammed open.

"Sahyung!" 

Chung Jin stood frozen in the doorway.

Tang Bo was now five meters away from the bed, cradling his chin in clear pain. Chung Myung sat on the bed, hastily clutching his robe, his face a furious shade of red.

For anyone else, the obvious assumption would be that Chung Myung got mad and decked Tang Bo first thing in the morning. But Chung Jin, who prided himself on his intelligence, immediately cursed his own brain.

He turned on his heel and slammed the door shut. "Chung Mun Sahyung is calling for you!" he barked before fleeing down the hall.

Tang Bo whined, sticking his tongue out as he wiped away a few drops of blood.

Chung Myung’s fists trembled atop the bed, his face only growing redder.

"We’re definitely making the baby at your place."

Still unable to form words, Tang Bo simply nodded.

***

For some reason, Tang Bo disappeared for two days.

The last thing Chung Myung heard was his husband saying he was off to tell his Sahyung, Chung Mun about their plan.

When Tang Bo finally returned on the third day, his clothes were a mess—creased, dirtied, and looking suspiciously well-worn. His eyes trembled, glassy with unshed emotion. And the moment their gazes met, he let out a choked breath, a few stray tears slipping down his cheeks before he launched himself at Chung Myung.

"Thank you for being so nice to me!"

Chung Myung staggered slightly at the impact, barely catching the taller man as he clung to him like a lifeline.

"What are you on about?" Chung Myung muttered, though he made no move to push him away. Instead, with a long-suffering sigh, he resigned himself to petting Tang Bo’s back.

Tang Bo, however, offered no explanation. He just clung tighter, staying there for a long, long while—so long that Chung Myung eventually grew bored. With a huff, he swept Tang Bo off his feet and carried him back home, grabbing a bottle of wine on the way.

He swore he could see a few imaginary hearts popping around the lovestruck fool.

It wasn’t until they were settled in bed—Tang Bo sitting snugly in Chung Myung's lap, clinging to him like a leech, looking more than comfortable—when the topic finally resurfaced.

"What did Sahyung say?" Chung Myung asked, tracing idle patterns on Tang Bo’s arm.

"To stay healthy and, uh… other unrelated things." Tang Bo brushed the question away, rubbing his cheek against Chung Myung’s head like an affectionate cat. "I missed you so much!"

"Yeah, yeah," Chung Myung muttered, letting him do as he pleased. Reaching for the bottle of wine, he uncorked it and took a long drink to pass the time.

Eventually, the last drop disappeared down his throat, and he sighed in disappointment. "...When are we telling Ah-Ya?"

"About her future sibling?"

"En," Chung Myung confirmed. "Also… should we do it together or one-on-one?"

"Together," Tang Bo answered without hesitation. Then, after a brief pause, his lips curled into a knowing smile. "But not the 'how.' We can leave that for much later."

Chung Myung exhaled through his nose. "Good call."

"She'll be so excited when she finds out!" Tang Bo grinned into his lover’s hair.

"You think so?"

"What, do you have other thoughts?"

Grimacing slightly, Chung Myung shook his head. Maybe he was worrying over nothing. "...Let's tell her when we get to your place. That way, we can tell Ah-Pyung too."

"Alright," Tang Bo agreed, his hold tightening just a bit. "Say… when we're back in Sichuan, want to go on a date?"

"Sure," Chung Myung shrugged, lazily leaning back against the wall. "Just don’t make it a weird one."

The words were spoken in a drowsy murmur, his eyes already starting to droop as Tang Bo's warmth lulled him toward sleep. It took him a moment to notice the sudden tensing of Tang Bo’s body, but before he could ask, his husband launched into an excited ramble.

"Like… when we go out… I'll make you eat spicy food and then I'll kiss you to make it better~" Tang Bo dramatically mimicked a kiss in the air, prompting a snort from Chung Myung. "Then, I’ll pick out a new outfit for you then I’ll buy you all sorts of things you’d like~"

"Okay, okay." Chung Myung chuckled, patting his husband’s leg. "Have your fun."

"And we’ll dance under the moonlight, and then—"

"Enough already." Groaning, Chung Myung buried his face into Tang Bo’s neck.

"Then, I’ll take you to my favorite inn and make you drink~"

"Yeah, let’s do that one," Chung Myung interjected, perking back up.

"And we'll go on a boat~"

"We can skip that one."

"No!" Tang Bo gasped, his eyes widening as if the very suggestion was treason. "We have to do it! It’ll make the drink taste even better!"

Rolling his eyes, Chung Myung let Tang Bo continue his enthusiastic rambling, as if Chung Myung hadn’t already agreed.

"I should've kept more bottles here…" Chung Myung muttered, ignoring Tang Bo’s incoherent murmuring as his hand fumbled along the floor. His fingers brushed against a familiar edge, and his lips curled into a triumphant smirk. "Bingo!"

With a quick push, he slid the loose tile aside, revealing a hidden bottle of wine. He had a dozen of these stashes scattered around his room—for emergencies, of course.

He downed half the bottle in one go, savoring the pleasant buzz that followed. The drink had a rich aroma, a smooth taste, and a strong afterbite—definitely the good stuff.

Shortly after, the door suddenly slammed open, revealing Tang Myung-Ya standing there with a look of sheer betrayal.

"You're drinking without me!"

"You snooze, you lose, brat." Chung Myung shot her a smug grin. "Where were you, anyway?"

"I got some mooncakes from Uncle Jin!" She held up a small pouch of desserts, her grin turning wide and devilish. "But alas! They’re not as good without a drink…"

"...Just one cup."

"Hehe!" Tang Myung-Ya cheered as she scampered over. At this point, Tang Bo went quiet, too exhausted from whatever he had been doing for the past three days to form real words. He barely reacted when his daughter climbed into his lap, adjusting herself to sit comfortably.

With a grin, she extended a cup toward Chung Myung.

Sighing, he shifted his position, making space to hold both of them. Tang Bo instinctively adjusted too, allowing Tang Myung-Ya to settle better.

As she waited for the pour, Tang Myung-Ya grabbed a mooncake and pressed it against her father’s lips. Without much thought, Chung Myung took a bite, chewing idly as he filled her cup.

Then she raised her head. "Dad, want some too?"

No response.

Tang Bo had already drifted off, his face peaceful, his lips still curled in a small smile. She quietly giggled and snuggled into her father’s side as she chewed on a cookie, listening to her own dad's snores.

She looked up at Chung Myung, who was holding them securely. Her father was strong, big, and warm—her other dad too—and she felt safe when they held her. 

Blushing slightly, she lifted another cookie to Chung Myung's lips.

Chapter Text

"Thank you again, Miss Tang, for taking care of our daughter!" Tang Bo bowed respectfully.

Tang Shumin let out a small chuckle, covering her mouth with her sleeve. "The Dark Saint is too polite. She's practically family." Then, with an amused glint in her eye, she added, "Besides, she's a good influence on my son. He’s been training harder lately."

Tang Bo felt a tinge of sympathy for Tang Jo Pyung. When it comes to personal training… Chung Myung got himself involved, too. How was it that a man who refused to train himself could be so relentless when training others?

"I see," Tang Bo said, shaking his head in fond exasperation. "Please don’t hesitate to reach out to us if anything comes up. It’s unlikely that we’ll be leaving the city, and we’ll be back by tomorrow."

"Understood. Give my greetings to the Sword Saint, and have a peaceful day," Tang Shumin said with a graceful bow.

Tang Bo bid her farewell before stepping outside.

The weather was pleasant—the sky clear, the sun warm but not overbearing, and a gentle breeze rustling through the air. A perfect day for a walk....Or, knowing his husband, a perfect day for lying in the grass and napping instead.

He smiled to himself at the thought, staring up at the sky in idle contemplation.

"Bo-ya, what are you looking at?"

Tang Bo turned at the sound of his husband's voice, warmth spreading through his chest. He hadn’t even realized how long he’d been standing there until Chung Myung had come to get him.

"I was just—" His words caught in his throat as his eyes landed on his husband.

Chung Myung wore one of his coats.

It wasn’t the first time—he’d worn them around the house before—but never outside. Tang Bo had expected him to throw on that usual plain grey coat, yet here he was, dressed in something that unmistakably belonged to him.

Chung Myung shifted under his gaze, clearing his throat. "Don’t stare so much. I just grabbed whatever was clean." Turning his back to Tang Bo, he started walking ahead, as if that would hide the faint pink dusting his ears.

Tang Bo wanted nothing more but to drag him into a room and eat him all up. Pity. Today, they were going on a stroll.

"My husband is not honest," he lamented dramatically as he hurried to Chung Myung's side. "What shall I do if my little angel Ah-Ya picks up these bad lying habits? No good at all." He clicked his tongue, throwing a sidelong glance at Chung Myung’s face.

"..."

Tang Bo knew better than to push his luck. Tease him too much and Chung Myung might actually decide to get rid of him. 

As they stepped past the Tang gates, Chung Myung gave him a suspicious look. "Where are we going?"

"I don’t know," Tang Bo said airily. "I thought we’d just take a stroll and see if anything catches your eye."

"Really?" Chung Myung raised an eyebrow. "You don’t have a whole plan for today?"

Tang Bo feigned hurt, sighing dramatically."What, don’t believe me?"

With a snort, Chung Myung grabbed his hand and started walking in a random direction.

"You just seem way too excited to not have something planned," he pointed out.

"Of course I'm excited!" Tang Bo beamed, squeezing the warm hand in his. "We haven’t been on a date since we had our daughter."

Chung Myung blinked. "Was it really that long?"

"Almost six years…" Tang Bo mused, drawing closer until he was holding onto Chung Myung’s arm. His voice softened. "And now, our little family is going to grow again."

Chung Myung looked at him for a moment but said nothing. The breeze sure felt nice enough for a nap… but perhaps this stroll wasn’t so bad either.

***

Sichuan, compared to Hwaeum, was a much larger province—bustling, lively—but still far more peaceful than Xian. Then again, there weren’t any Jongnam rats lying around. On a brighter note, beating a few of them up would’ve been fun on such a nice day.

Their pace was leisurely, giving Chung Myung time to observe the province's rhythm, its pulse. Meanwhile, Tang Bo, wholly uninterested in sightseeing, clung contentedly to his arm, enjoying the quiet walk.

As someone raised here, he likely knew every street and hidden path by heart. Surprisingly enough, Tang Bo was the first to stop.

"Seen something?" Chung Myung asked as Tang Bo turned toward a narrow alley. 

It wasn’t shabby by any means—small lanterns lined the path, casting a soft glow that made it feel less like an alley and more like an invitation. At the end stood an unfamiliar shop, decorated with strange and colorful ornaments—certainly not Sichuan’s usual architecture.

"Should we take a look?" Tang Bo asked, intrigued by the new addition to his city. Half of it was curiosity, while the other part still had a watchful eye for problems in his area. He was still a Tang, after all.

Without a word, Chung Myung led them toward the shop.

The inside was even more vibrant, filled with an assortment of oddities. Trinkets, fabrics, incense—items from different regions, scattered in an eclectic display. One of the shopkeepers spotted them, bowed politely, and launched into an enthusiastic explanation of their wares. Chung Myung wasn’t listening. Instead, he glanced as a certain object stole his attention.

Tang Bo busied himself with conversation—subtly asking about the shop’s origins and its business dealings in Sichuan. It gave Chung Myung just enough time to study a particular item.

A wooden box. Inside, nestled against deep grey, lay a smoking pipe. Its design was simple, nothing like the luxurious, finely-carved pipes Tang Bo usually used.

However, what truly caught Chung Myung’s eye was the handswen tassel attached to it—velvet, its color strikingly out of place. An odd choice for such an item. Yet, somehow… it would look nice in Tang Bo’s hands.

He placed it on the counter.

"Oh, good sir, you have excellent taste!" The shopkeeper beamed, hurrying over to pack the item. "This is one of our finest pipes! The tassel comes from a distant province, handwoven with the best materials, and the wood—"

Chung Myung nodded absently, barely listening. He handed over the payment, took the neatly wrapped package, and turned—only to meet Tang Bo’s sharp, fox-like gaze watching him with curiosity.

"It's a stupid gift. Don't look so excited about it." Chung Myung muttered, tossing the box to him.

Tang Bo caught it with practiced ease, eyes twinkling. "It's something my Hyung gave me. How could I not be excited?" To his credit, he waited until they left the shop to open it.

"I know you already have plenty of them. Just throw it away if—"

"Are you kidding me?" Tang Bo cut him off, cradling the pipe like a treasure. "I’ll make this my heirloom—ah, wait, our family heirloom, then—ack!"

Chung Myung pinched his cheek, cutting off his rambling. Tang Bo whined but made no move to stop him.

After freeing himself, he rubbed his cheek with a small pout. "These guys didn’t seem that suspicious," he noted, his voice back to business. "But I’ll still report them to one of our branches nearby, just in case." He added, throwing apologetic glances at Chung Myung.

Chung Myung shrugged. "I don’t mind."

Their destination turned out to be an unassuming building, blending in with the others around it. Its plain exterior seemed designed to avoid drawing attention, yet the familiar scent of herbs hanging in the air was unmistakably Tang.

"Wait here for a bit," Tang Bo said, pausing before adding, "I won’t be long."

Chung Myung could wait. His stomach, however, could not.

His gaze drifted down the street, landing on a small food stall tucked into the alley. A familiar scent hit him—grilled skewers, thick with spice. Instinctively, he licked his lips before heading over.

By the time Tang Bo returned, he immediately zeroed in on the food in Chung Myung’s hands.

"Are you hungry? We could go to an inn."

"It's fine like this, let's walk a bit more." Chung Myung said, holding out a skewer to him. He took a bite of his own and chewed slowly.

Tang Bo accepted the skewer with a sigh. "I was supposed to be the one buying you things today…"

Chung Myung smirked. "The day is not over yet." 

Something about his tone sent a prickle of dread down Tang Bo’s spine. He regretted speaking—just a little. Chung Myung continued eating, taking slow, deliberate bites, looking perfectly content. But Tang Bo knew his husband. A simple skewer wasn’t enough to satisfy him.

"Bo-yah."

"Yes, Hyung-nim?"

"There," Chung Myung said, pointing to another food stall.

It didn't take any longer than a blink for Tang Bo to go and return with an assortment of fresh fruit.

Chung Myung’s smirk hadn’t budged an inch.

"Oh, that looks good." Chung Myung gestured lazily toward a stall selling dumplings. Before Tang Bo could react, another caught his eye. "And that one too."

"And some soup from there—"

"And that thingy—"

Tang Bo sighed as he trudged from stall to stall, fetching food like a well-trained servant. He had said he’d buy Chung Myung anything he wanted, but that guy who's more of a snake than himself, had taken it as a challenge to empty his wallet. 

Yet… he didn’t mind it at all. Instead, his chest warmed whenever he handed something over and saw Chung Myung smile in satisfaction.

Chewing on a piece of candy, Chung Myung stole a glance at Tang Bo, whose lips had stopped moving as much. They looked soft, contemplative, and relaxed… A blush crept up Chung Myung’s neck as he thought of kissing them.

They were a couple. On a date, no less. Kissing should be normal, right? The quietness was starting to irritate him too…

"What’s that?"

Tang Bo blinked at the sudden question. "Hm?"

"That." Chung Myung pointed toward a large mural stretching across two buildings. It depicted four cranes soaring above mountain peaks, a single red thread trailing from each of their beaks.

Tang Bo’s brows lifted. It wasn’t often that Chung Myung took an interest in things like this. "Oh, that? It’s an old, local legend."

That was all the encouragement he needed. Like a canary freed from its cage, Tang Bo began animatedly recounting the tale, gesturing as he spoke. Chung Myung, meanwhile, only half-listened—more focused on the way Tang Bo’s lips curved when he got excited.

The walk continued with Tang Bo chattering happily, and Chung Myung felt more at ease. It was much more enjoyable with some noise. Grabbing two bottles of wine from a local shop, Chung Myung finally felt satisfied. He reached down, fingers searching for a pair.

Tang Bo didn’t notice at first, not until he felt the slow squeeze of Chung Myung’s hand in his. Glancing down, his lips curled into a smile. Silently, he lifted their joined hands and kissed the back of his lover's before continuing his story.

The river stretched before them, its surface shimmering with the fading light of day. The gentle rush of water filled the quiet between them, blending with the distant hum of the city and the occasional chirp of crickets.

Without a word, Chung Myung sat down, tugging Tang Bo with him. Instead of resisting, Tang Bo let himself be pulled close, settling between his husband's legs, his back resting against Chung Myung’s chest.

Taking a sip from the bottle, Chung Myung let his head rest on Tang Bo’s shoulder, his eyes glazing as he listened to the soft cadence of his husband's voice. Tales of old, half-remembered childhood stories—It didn’t matter; his voice alone was enough. They lay there for a moment, breathing in the scent of damp earth and river mist.

As they lingered by the riverbank, the rippling water caught their gaze, pulling it across to the opposite shore. There, children darted barefoot through the grass, spinning and swaying in carefree circles. Their laughter rose and fell with the breeze, bright and untamed.

Tang Bo watched them with a fond expression. "They remind me of Ah-Ya," he murmured. "She’s growing up too fast."

Chung Myung made a small noise of agreement, his fingers absently tracing along Tang Bo’s wrist.

Tang Bo kept watching the children, a strange desire igniting in his chest. One of the older ones spun in dizzying circles, arms outstretched, before stumbling into the grass. The others clapped and cheered before joining in, twirling and swaying in rhythm with some unheard tune.

"Dancing with no care in the world…" he mused. "It must feel nice."

Chung Myung’s gaze flicked toward him, catching something unreadable in his tone. But Tang Bo wasn’t looking at him—his eyes remained fixed on the children.

"Hyung-nim?"

"Hm?"

"Have you ever danced?"

Chung Myung hesitated. Technically, he had performed sword dances before, but that wasn't what Tang Bo was asking, was it?

"I haven’t," he admitted.

"Really?" A mischievous smile played on Tang Bo’s lips. "Not even when you were a child?"

"Not that I have any memory of,"  Chung Myung shrugged. "Why, have you?"

"Not a single step." Tang Bo waved a hand dismissively and laughed.

Did he go crazy? What was he laughing for?

Chung Myung narrowed his eyes, already considering knocking some sense into him.

"Ah—no, don’t look at me like that!" Tang Bo raised his hands, preemptively shielding himself from whatever violence his husband was considering. "I’m not crazy! I was just thinking—don’t you want to make one?"

"Make what?"

"A memory of dancing." Tang Bo gestured toward the children, then to himself. "With me."

Chung Myung grimaced. "I can't dance."

"I can’t either," Tang Bo said, undeterred. "And neither can they, it seems." He gestured to the stumbling children, then extended a hand. "But that’s the point, isn’t it? We can dance however we want. It’s not for anyone else but us." His voice turned coaxing. "Doesn’t that sound fun?"

Chung Myung stared at him, debating. Then, with a sigh, he took Tang Bo’s hand. "Just once. If we look stupid, I’m blaming you."

Awkwardly, they got to their feet, clutching at each other for balance. Tang Bo stepped forward, and Chung Myung instinctively leaned back, allowing himself to be led. 

Their first steps were clumsy, feet tangling as they swayed without rhythm. Tang Bo adjusted with a laugh, tugging Chung Myung closer until their chests aligned, their warmth mingling.

It wasn't graceful or elegant, just them, moving as they pleased.

The setting sun cast long shadows over them, the wind playing at their hair and their steps echoing off the river. It felt free. Exhilarating in a way that Chung Myung had never expected.

Then, with one final spin, they lost their balance.

Chung Myung crashed into Tang Bo, sending them both tumbling into the grass.

"Ugh." Propping himself up, Chung Myung looked down at Tang Bo, who lay sprawled beneath him, hair a tangled mess, face streaked as if he rolled in the dirt. And the bastard was laughing.

"Ahaha!" Tang Bo’s laughter rang out brightly. His smile stretched wide, childlike in its sincerity, a faint blush dusting his cheeks, and his eyes fluttered open, sparkling with delight.

"How was it?"

"Stupid," Chung Myung muttered, as if the dance had exhausted him. A blush crept up his ears as he realized he was staring at his husband's lips again. It was fine. They were married, right? So…

The sound of clapping interrupted his thoughts.

He glanced to the side. The children were watching. Cheering. Chuckling.

Chung Myung stiffened. If his ears weren’t red before, they certainly were now. Wasn't the river quite large? How could they see so far!? They must be martial artists in disguise!

With a sharp cough, he rose and dusted off his robes. "I want to drink more."

Tang Bo pressed a hand to his mouth, as if sharing a secret. "I have some prepared—just a little further."

"I thought you said you had nothing planned?"

"For the day," Tang Bo corrected with a sly grin. "For tonight, I’m more than ready. After all, you won’t be able to drink for quite a while." Tang Bo gave him a filtreous wink that Chung Myung refused to think about.

"Let’s go, then." He turned swiftly, striding away from the river.

Tang Bo scrambled to his feet, brushing the dirt from his clothes and his hair as he rushed after Chung Myung. "Wait—Hyung-nim, it's this way." Tang Bo grabbed his coat and tugged.

"...Right." Chung Myung coughed again and let Tang Bo lead him by the arm.

It got colder, the moon having risen higher when Tang Bo finally stopped, stretching his arm toward the docks. Chung Myung followed his gesture, and his brow lifted in surprise.

"Are we really going on a boat?"

A small fishing boat bobbed gently against the river. The wooden surface was polished to a glossy shine, with large plush seating, floral decorations, paper lanterns, and bottles of wine that took up much of the space. It looked more like a garden bed than a boat.

"I told you, didn’t I?" Tang Bo said proudly, extending his arm in invitation.

Chung Myung stepped in, the boat swaying slightly beneath his weight. He settled onto one of the cushioned seats. Tang Bo followed, steadying them before taking his place at the oars. 

With a gentle push, they set off across the river, the current carrying them into the night.

The night air was crisp, carrying the delicate scent of blooming flowers. The river’s gentle currents rocked the boat in a slow, rhythmic motion, and Chung Myung, feeling at ease in the darkness, reached for the bottle of wine.

He sipped slowly, letting the liquid burn down his throat, his eyes slipping shut as he listened to the sounds of the night—the croaking of frogs, the occasional ripple of water as insects danced along the surface.

When he opened them again, Tang Bo was watching him.

Snake-green eyes, steady and fond, glowed under the moonlight. His long, flowing hair shimmered, strands catching the lantern’s glow as if bleeding gold into the dark water. The flowers surrounding the boat framed him, making him appear almost ethereal—like a night fairy.

Chung Myung swallowed.

“Aren’t you going to drink?” He knew his husband was handsome, but right now, that word didn’t seem fitting. Perhaps beautiful—Chung Myung's hands itched to grab the back of Tang Bo’s neck and pull him closer.

"I was just enjoying the view," Tang Bo said, his voice husky, almost teasing as he picked up a bottle for himself. He could have brought some cups, but his alcoholic wife would still probably gulp down the bottle as if drinking water.

“I had this whole set-up planned for you,” Tang Bo mused, watching the faint flush dust Chung Myung’s cheeks. "But it seems you took my plan and turned it into something special on your own."

The sight warmed him, a gentle ache settling in his chest. Even after years of marriage, it still felt like they were on their first date.

And he didn’t mind one bit.

“I love it—”

He barely finished his words before a cold hand grasped his jaw, pulling him forward. Something warm and wet pressed against his lips, carrying a strong, bitter flavor of liquor.

Tang Bo couldn't even react before his husband pulled away—though not far. Tang Bo could still feel his breath mingling with Chung Myung's. A defeated yet contemptuous sigh slipped from Tang Bo’s lips. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he stuck out his tongue, swiping it across Chung Myung’s lips, tasting the lingering wine.

Chung Myung parted his lips slightly at the sensation, and Tang Bo took immediate action. He pressed forward, capturing his wife’s lips in another kiss—deeper this time. His hands slid up, fingers tangling into soft hair as he pushed Chung Myung back against the boat's edge.

The boat swayed dangerously, then steadied.

Chung Myung’s breath hitched as Tang Bo’s tongue traced the inside of his mouth, teasing and demanding all at once. Their bodies pressed closer, warmth seeping into every inch of space between them as they shared a rushed kiss, but not in an inexperienced sense, rather as if they'd forgotten how to kiss. 

Tang Bo felt a grip at this collar, and he was soon yanked away like unsticking a bloodsucker off skin.

"Ah— wait!" Chung Myung halted their movement, his chest rising and falling as he steadied his breath.

"Don't worry," Tang Bo reassured him, knowing what this was about. "I wasn't going to do more." He shifted back, dropping onto Chung Myung’s abdomen with an exaggerated sigh. "It’s hard to hold myself back, but I can manage."

Tang Bo nuzzled his head against Chung Myung’s stomach. "I need to be in top shape for our next baby," he mused, lifting his gaze. His eyes raised to meet Chung Myung's, and they curved lecherously at the sight of his lover's messed face.

"Haa…" Chung Myung exhaled, then let out a chuckle. After wanting to kiss his husband all day, the familiar urge to punch Tang Bo’s smug face had returned. Life makes sense again!

"Dosa Hyung," Tang Bo purred, arms wrapping snugly around Chung Myung’s waist. "Let’s try for a baby tomorrow."

Chung Myung turned his head away, watching the river shimmer under the moonlight. The water’s glow masked its true nature—a deep, endless abyss.

He wondered, if he threw Tang Bo in, wouldn't he just sink and disappear?

Cold sweat ran down Tang Bo's back as he observed Chung Myung's expression. Something about that thoughtful face felt threatening. It felt as if he was considering something else entirely rather than what Tang Bo suggested.

 "H-Hyung-nim?"

Chung Myung’s gaze slid back to him—calm, indifferent. And yet, there was a sharp glint beneath the surface. Tang Bo swallowed hard, then bit his cheek and buried himself in Chung Myung's chest, trying to act coy.

Swirling his drink, the Taoist took another sip, savoring the burn before tilting his head back. Above him, the sky sparkled, eerily reminiscent of Tang Bo’s earlier expression.

Curses.

"Fine," Chung Myung sighed. Either way, this was why they had come back here, wasn’t it?

A blink later, he groaned as Tang Bo shifted excitedly, peppering small kisses along his neck.

This double-faced leech! One moment, he's acting cute, and next thing you know, he's a shameless pervert in broad daylight. Aigoo! This is the man he married and lived with for the past few years!

A kind, good-willed Taoist like him should’ve known better…

Taking another swig, Chung Myung exhaled dramatically, silently lamenting his fate. This guy better be thankful I love him—otherwise, he’d be at the bottom of the river by now!

"You're annoying," Chung Myung grumbled as he pressed a kiss to Tang Bo's head. He felt his partner's face twitch, clealy grinning stupidly. But instead of shoving him away, his fingers found their way into Tang Bo’s hair, absently massaging his scalp.

Tang Bo let out a content sigh, and his body went limp with pleasure. Chung Myung could practically hear the happy purr from him.

The boat drifted aimlessly on the river, lanterns flickering before winking out, leaving only the reflection of the star-studded sky on the water. It felt as if they were floating through the heavens themselves.

The night air whispered through the trees, rustling the branches above, but barely touched Chung Myung—his warm, living blanket covered most of him. Crickets hummed loudly, their chirping a welcomed accompaniment to the night.

The peace settled into Tang Bo’s bones, and he felt his eyelids growing heavy. The last thing he remembered was Chung Myung whispering something, his voice soft and distant, fading into the night as he fell into a deep sleep.

Before dawn painted the sky, Tang Bo stirred, woken by the quiet rhythm of Chung Myung’s breathing and the empty bottles scattered around them. He was still sprawled atop his husband, the heat of their bodies keeping the chill at bay.

He refused to move.

It was warm. It was comfortable.

It was perfect.

A slow smile crept onto Tang Bo’s lips as he felt the steady rhythm of Chung Myung’s breath and heartbeat against his skin. He couldn’t wait for the next night, when he'll be in a place even warmer and far more comfortable. 

It was a good thing his husband had fallen asleep. Now, Tang Bo would get to wake him up with a kiss, like a sleeping princess.

He hummed, a soft blush creeping up his face at his own thoughts, before a wicked grin spread. With a chuckle, Tang Bo pressed a kiss on his sleeping lover's lips.

"Hyung-nim..." The snake cooed, lowering his head to nibble Chung Myung's neck gently.

"Bo-yah…" Chung Myung stirred, eyes fluttering open only to squeeze shut again with a frown.. "Sleep," he grunted, shifting his head away from Tang Bo.

Tang Bo smirked. "But Hyung-nim… shouldn’t we go back already?"

"We'll go back when we go back," came the lazy reply.

"Hyung-nim?" Tang Bo tried again, nibbling Chung Myung's earlobe. "Are you sure it's okay? Ah-Ya might cry if we're away too long."

Still refusing to open his eyes, Chung Myung let out a snort. "She'll still be asleep by the time we get back."

Their daughter loved sleep as much as Chung Myung did. Without her parents around, it would be a miracle if she woke before the sun was high in the sky.

 "True," Tang Bo agreed, "but—"

"Bo-yah," Chung Myung cut him off, his voice still groggy, yet he spoke with determination. "I'm not moving unless it's an emergency."

Tang Bo sighed in defeat but relented.

Instead, he tucked himself back against Chung Myung’s chest, curling his fingers over the fabric of his robes. He let his eyes trace the relaxed features of his sleeping lover, memorizing every detail.

"Okay then," he whispered. A few more moments wouldn't hurt. In fact, it was a blessing. Who knew when they’d have another date like this—just the two of them.

With two critters around, life would be much noisier, yet Tang Bo looks very much forward to it. And he especially looked forward to tonight as his lips curved in a sly smile at his own dirty thoughts coming back.

The boat glided closer to the docks, as if coaxing them to return. Still, Chung Myung slept on, undisturbed, his face serene while Tang Bo’s mind raced with thoughts of the future.

It didn’t seem like Chung Myung would wake any time soon, but Tang Bo didn’t mind. He was content, basking in the stillness, watching over his lover in the first light of dawn. With one hand idly stroking his lover’s hair, Tang Bo couldn’t help but feel grateful for their little outing.

"Thank you for a wonderful day, Hyung-nim," Tang Bo murmured. His voice, however, wasn’t enough to rouse Chung Myung from his slumber. With a contented sigh, Tang Bo nestled back into his lover’s embrace, letting the world shift around them.

The stars began to fade, one by one, the dark sky lifting like a veil to reveal the dawn. Shades of pink and orange stretched across the horizon, while the rising sun burned a deep red. The cool air softened, and the wind stilled, holding its breath as the day took its first breath.

The peaceful silence that had enveloped the river was now filled with the song of birds greeting the morning, and the distant bustle of merchants and vendors stirring to begin their day.

The river sparkled in the rising light, reflecting the dawn like a mirror. The ripples from last night were gone, leaving only a smooth, still surface. With one final swing, the boat bumped against the riverbank, signaling that it was time to return home.

Chapter Text

"I want to come too!" 

Tang Myung-Ya voiced her demands loudly as her lips formed a pout and her cheeks bulged sulkingly.

Tang Bo's face flickered with nervous hesitation. He was supposed to be taking Chung Myung out today—just the two of them. A proper date. 

He’d even promised to handle everything, told his husband to relax and leave their daughter to him. He wanted to look reliable. Cool. Competent. But at this rate, Tang Myung-Ya would probably cling to his leg like a leech if that’s what it took to tag along.

If it were Chung Myung, a single stare would have been enough to placate her. But since their daughter resembled her mother greatly, Tang Bo had a much harder time saying ‘no’ to that round, pouty face—he truly had become what one would call ‘a fool for his daughter.’

"I'll bring you a bottle of wine," Tang Bo resorted to negotiation. Since their child resembled Chung Myung so much, he should just apply the same techniques of persuasion. 

Luckily, Tang Bo considered himself a master of this art.

But Tang Myung-Ya only tilted her head, unimpressed, and raised five fingers. She had that same deadpan confidence as Chung Myung, a formidable scam—haggler.

"Two," Tang Bo countered, keeping his tone light, though a twinge of doubt crept into his chest. Even he knew that wasn’t going to fly.

Without skipping a beat, Tang Myung-Ya dropped one finger nonchalantly. Four.

"Tsk!" Tang Bo bit his lip to hide a smirk. 

This child was underestimating him. She was a hundred years too early to win a negotiation this easily. 

"Two and a pack of mooncakes. Final offer."

The little tiger narrowed her eyes at him, sharp and silent.

"Three and a pack of mooncakes!"

Tang Bo closed his eyes with exaggerated solemnity, letting out a long, disappointed sigh—careful not to break into laughter as he finally showed his cards. 

“I did say final offer," he said, lifting his hands in a dramatic shrug. “Shame, really. No deal."

He paused for effect, then added, casually, “Also… you know, since your mothe— papa is going to get pregnant again, he won’t be allowed to drink for a while."

A sly smirk curled at the corner of his mouth before he quickly wiped it away. He shot a cold, knowing glance at his daughter, eyes sharp with mock warning.

“And if he were to see any alcohol during that time…" he leaned in just a little, “he might get... frustrated. So we’ll have to keep it far, far out of reach."

Tang Myung-Ya’s face paled, the horror setting in. No wine for her Papa meant no wine for her either. 

She ground her teeth, visibly torn, then finally groaned in defeat.

“ Fine! Two and a pack of mooncakes!"

With a victorious smile and exaggerated formality, he reached out and shook her hand to seal the deal.

***

Tang Myung-Ya blinked, her brows knitting together as she pointed at the unfamiliar boy.

"Who's that brat?"

“You probably don’t remember him. It’s been a while," Tang Bo said, half to himself, before motioning to the boy. "This is Tang Jo Pyung, your older cousin."

Tang Jo Pyung gave a small, polite bow. His posture was calm, controlled—almost annoyingly mature for an eleven-year-old. He was tall, too. Too tall. Especially next to Tang Myung-Ya, who stood barely half his height.

The little tiger did not like that.

"You should greet him back," Tang Bo urged gently, though his voice held a nervous edge at the beast's unsettling silence. 

Tang Myung-Ya said nothing. Just crossed her arms and turned her head with a loud huff.

Tang Bo sighed and crouched down beside her, dropping his voice to a whisper.

"I'll tell your mother."

"Tsk." 

Tang Myung-Ya scowled before unfurling her arms, giving a slow, lazy bow.

“Daughter of the Sword Saint," she muttered half-heartedly. “Tang Myung-Ya."

For some reason, Tang Jo Pyung's face lit up as if that awkward little introduction had made his whole day.

Tang Bo felt a small stab in his chest at her words—or rather, what—who was missing from them. It was her way of showing she was upset with him. 

Maybe he should’ve just agreed to those three bottles... But now wasn’t the time to dwell. He was already late for his date!

“Ah-Ya, be nice," he warned gently, lingering in the doorway. “And whatever it is you're thinking of doing… just don’t."

“I got it! Just leave already!" she snapped, her tiny face scrunched in full-blown annoyance.

Tang Bo hesitated a beat longer, then slipped out of the room with a sigh.

“She’s quite lively," came a soft chuckle behind him.

Tang Shumin stood in the hall, a serene smile on her face.

"I'm sorry, she'll be quite a handful," Tang Bo sincerely apologized.

“She’s young. That’s how they are."

Tang Bo hadn't interacted with many children before, but he was pretty sure age had little to do with his daughter's temperament.

"We’ll be nearby if anything comes up—"

“Lord Saint," she interrupted gently, a hand raised. “Your lover is waiting."

"Thank you again, Miss Tang, for taking care of our daughter!" Tang Bo bowed respectfully, his expression lined with both gratitude and unease, like he was handing over a lit firecracker and hoping for the best.

Then he turned and headed off down the hall, excited for the rest of his day.

***

The room was thick with tension as Tang Myung-Ya glared up at her cousin, eyes narrowed with pure, unfiltered suspicion.

"I don't like you," she declared, blunt and cold.

Tang Jo Pyung blinked, clearly taken aback. He had no idea what he’d done to earn her hostility.

“Did I… do something wrong?"

Tang Myung-Ya didn’t bother answering. Instead, she gave a loud huff, spun on her heel, and marched away, head held high like a tiny empress.

“Ah—wait!"

“Don’t follow me!"

“I was told to take care of you."

“I’m fine on my own!"

Still, Jo Pyung followed her without hesitation, calm and quietly stubborn. 

With a sharp click of her tongue, Tang Myung-Ya broke into a sudden, quicker pace. With her skills, she’d lose him in no time!

Off to the side, two elderly servants watched the children dash past, fond amusement crinkling their eyes.

"My! They're just like the Saints in their youth."

"..."

"Is something wrong?" 

Tang Jo Pyung tilted his head, confusion etched on his face. His breathing was a little rough from the chase, but it appeared he was still capable of doing so.

Why is this brat so fast?

Tang Myung-Ya refused to acknowledge even a flicker of respect for his endurance, her scowl deepening as she turned her face away.

“Fine then," she huffed, but the smirk that curled her lips was sly. “Wanna play?"

"Sure!" Tang Jo Pyung's eyes lit up with eager enthusiasm.

“Then… hide and seek! You go and count." She waved her hand dismissively, her smile turning smug.

Without question, Tang Jo Pyung turned to face the wall and began counting aloud. The moment he did, Myung-Ya was off—her small feet padding silently across the floor as she dashed away. Quick and light, she slipped through the halls like a shadow, eventually disappearing into a quiet, secluded garden tucked behind the estate.

Now that she was here…

What now?

The breeze rustled through the leaves, the soft hush of plants swaying in rhythm with the wind. Overhead, the sky was a brilliant blue, the sun warming everything it touched. Birds chirped somewhere nearby, basking under the sunlight.

The tranquility wrapped around her like a soft blanket, but instead of feeling peaceful, it felt... empty. She blinked and looked around, as if searching for something to fill the stillness.

It was a nice day, so why…

“Should I take a nap?" Tang Myung-Ya mumbled to herself, as though trying to shake off the strange feeling. She wandered over to a cluster of trees fenced by thick bushes, their leaves forming a hidden canopy. With a soft grunt, she crawled underneath, tucking herself into the shaded space like a little fox curling into a den.

Hidden from sight, she let her body relax. The sunlight filtered in through the leaves above, dappled and warm. A breeze touched her cheek, and the world seemed to hush.

With a contented sigh, Tang Myung-Ya closed her eyes and let herself drift.

…

"...."

Her eyes fluttered open before she realized it. She couldn’t sleep. Was she just… bored?

Normally, she’d be playing with her parents. If they were busy, she’d find her Sasuks or elders to bother. But they weren’t here.

Nobody was.

She was alone, in a place she didn’t know, surrounded by people she didn’t know.

Tang Myung-Ya curled into herself, pulling her knees to her chest. Her eyes began to sting, and before she could stop it, a small sob crept up in her throat. No. No. She wasn’t going to cry. She was the daughter of two Saints—she shouldn’t — 

“Papa…" 

The word slipped out, barely more than a whisper, cracked and small.

"So you were here!" 

Tang Myung-Ya jolted with a shout. Tang Jo Pyung stood there, smiling sheepishly. There was a flicker of guilt in his gaze, as if he’d just realized he’d startled her.

How did he find her so fast?

Before she could question further, Tang Jo Pyung frowned, concern clouding his face.

"What's wrong?"

Tang Myung-Ya's face flushed with heat, her throat tightening as she suddenly remembered the tears that had welled in her eyes. Without thinking, she quickly buried her face in her knees, biting her lip hard enough to taste blood.

If he saw her like this, he’d laugh.

"Ya-ya?"

"Don't call me that!" Tang Myung-Ya snapped, lifting her head sharply before realizing the tears that had started to drip down her cheeks. She hastily wiped her face, scowling at him. 

“Go away!"

"Did I make you cry?"

“As if," Tang Myung-Ya tried to huff, but it came out as more of a sniffle than anything else.

"Then… do you miss your parents?" 

Tang Jo Pyung smiled awkwardly, his eyes soft with understanding.

The girl did not reply. Instead, she buried her head back into her knees, pulling into herself.

Sensing her unwillingness to speak, Tang Jo Pyung closed his mouth and sat quietly beside her, waiting for her to calm down.

"I want Papa…" Tang Myung-Ya murmured, staring blankly ahead. "Dad too…"

"Is this your first time being left alone?"

"..."

The boy didn't mind her silence and continued speaking. 

"When I was first left alone, I cried a tons too."

"....."

"....."

The silence between them stretched, and Tang Myung-Ya felt a surge of anger briefly overcoming her sorrows. With great reluctance, she caved in and asked.

"So… what did you do?"

“Nothing. I just kept crying."

What?

Tang Myung-Ya stared at him in stunned silence, silently considering beating him up.

“But when I’m sad, Mom often gives me cookies, Tang Jo Pyung continued before Tang Myung-Ya could come to a conclusion. "But it wasn't meal time yet."

The boy leaned in closer, lowering his voice like he was about to confess a deeply forbidden act.

"And then, I secretly took a cookie and ate it without permission."

"..."

“Then you know what happened?"

With a sigh, Tang Myung-Ya gave in and humored him. 

"What, did you get caught and punished or something?"

"No," Tang Jo Pyung answered, giddy excitement in his voice barely contained. "Nobody noticed."

"So?"

"I got away with it!"

Tang Myung-Ya's head fell to the side. She didn't often meet children her age—even if Tang Jo Pyung was older—but she doesn't remember them being so… stupid? Why is he even telling her how he stole a cookie… 

Wait.

"You didn't get caught?" Tang Myung-Ya's head snapped back up.

“Nope."

The girl's ears twitched with interest.

"Then… do you know where they keep the wine?"

Her parents weren’t here. 

Wasn't that right?

After years of always having them nearby, the absence felt strange. Rather than sadness, wasn't there more like a sense of freedom? Like a dog let out without its owner, suddenly feeling free and untethered.

Sadly, her plans were thwarted as Tang Jo Pyung shook his head.

"No, only the adults know."

"Fuck—" She covered her mouth quickly, remembering how she shouldn't swear near children. 

"Then where's the kitchen?"

"Are you hungry? I can call the nannies."

"No, I just want some cookies," Tang Myung-Ya smiled at him, though there was something a bit twisted about it. “Y’know, I’m just a little sad."

Tang Jo Pyung glanced to the side. Something about the situation made him anxious. Technically, his mother was still around, but… she would understand if she were to catch them, right? Nothing could go bad.

It was for good reasons.

"Okay."

Tang Jo Pyung’s face split into an excited grin as Tang Myung-Ya clapped her hands and rubbed them together, her eyes shining with the spark of mischief.

***

They waited until the ladies left the kitchen before slipping in through the window.

"Shhh," Tang Myung-Ya hissed, even though no one had spoken, and pointed toward a table. Tang Jo Pyung nodded, moving silently across the kitchen. His eyes scanned the spread of freshly baked food. Among the tempting dishes, a tray of Jian Dui—Sesame Balls—sat teasingly, their warmth still palpable in the air.

Without wasting any time, Tang Jo Pyung snatched a handful and stuffed them into an empty pouch he kept hidden inside his sleeve.

Satisfied with his loot, he was about to confirm success when the sound of footsteps froze him in place. His eyes widened in panic, and without thinking, he ducked under the nearest table, hiding behind a cloth as a lady entered the kitchen.

Tang Jo Pyung’s heart raced anxiously. Where was his cousin? The lack of scolding told him she wasn't caught yet.

He strained his ears, waiting. The soft rustling of bottles caught his attention, followed by the sharp clink of something being set down. 

Then, a cupboard closed with a loud bang.

"I swear we made some Jian Dui too…" the lady muttered, but it seemed like she decided to brush it off as she continued with her work. The sound of plates clinking made Tang Jo Pyung hold his breath.

Finally, the door clicked shut, and Tang Jo Pyung exhaled in relief, cautiously crawling out from under the table and looking around.

"Ya-ya? Where—" 

Something landed behind him, and he yelped, instinctively trying to shout. But a hand clamped over his mouth before he could.

“Shhh, she couldn’t have gone far!" Tang Myung-Ya hissed, her voice low and urgent.

The boy nodded, his eyes flicking over to his cousin’s disappointed face.

"I got some sweets," he offered, holding out the pouch in the hopes of cheering her up. But it seemed to have little effect.

Shaking her head, Tang Myung-Ya nudged him forward.

"Let's go eat them where nobody could see us."

With that, she skipped away, leaving him to follow. Tang Jo Pyong didn't need to be told twice and hurried after her.

Looking both ways to mark it clear, Tang Myung-Ya jumped out the window and waited for her cousin, still keeping an eye out.

As he landed beside her, ready to move, Tang Myung-Ya suddenly stopped.

“What’s that?" she asked, pointing toward a secluded building just ahead.

"I’m not sure," Tang Jo Pyung shrugged, "Maybe a storage? Not many people pass by."

"Then it's perfect, isn't it?"

With a shared glance, the two of them snuck closer. The door was locked, but thankfully, the window was ajar, just enough for their small frames to slip through.

“It’s really dark in here…" Tang Jo Pyung muttered uneasily as they climbed through.

The dim light made it hard to make out anything clearly. The place seemed like a warehouse, but with the poor visibility, he couldn’t tell what was inside.

Yet Tang Myung-Ya was bouncing on her feet.

Tang Jo Pyong blinked, his vision adjusting to the darkness. There seemed to be a bunch of dark bottles lined up in rows and columns—perhaps wine. But what drew his attention was the small figure of his cousin as she stared at the alcohol with a strange look, as if considering something.

With a hum, she seemed to come to a conclusion. Stepping forward, she confidently grabbed one of the bottles and twisted the wooden lid off with a satisfying pop.

"W-We can't drink that!" Tang Jo Pyung rushed to stop her, panic seeping into his voice. "It’s alcohol!"

"I know?" The little girl tilted her head in confusion.

"We’re too young—you’ll get drunk!"

Tang Myung-Ya ignored him and took a swig from the bottle, her eyes lighting up as she yelped with delight.

"When you drink too much, y-you get dizzy and can't stand straight…" Tang Jo Pyung tried to reason, flailing his arms around.

"Isn't that like poison thought?"

"Huh?"

"I'm half Tang too! Training with poison is in our blood, isn't it?"

"That…"

She made some sense… But was this right?

"Here." Tang Myung-Ya looked up at him eagerly, raising the bottle toward him. "Try it."

Tang Jo Pyung opened his mouth to decline but stopped, looking at the bottle in her hand. What could be the harm? She’d already drunk it. And besides, his mother had always taught him not to leave others drinking alone.

His heart pounded in his chest as he reluctantly reached for the bottle. 

The liquid slid smoothly down his throat. Based on the texture, it was definitely their famous Sichuan wine—but he couldn’t be too sure since it was his first time drinking.

"It's sweet!" He said in awe, not expecting it to be so.

"Right?!" Tang Myung-Ya grinned, watching him dip for another taste. "It goes well with Jian Dui too."

Nodding, Tang Jo Pyung pulled out the pouch, laying out the sesame balls on a cloth as they both indulged in the treats.

"Hehe," Tang Myung-Ya laughed, throwing an arm around him. "This brat knows what’s good too! What’s your name?"

"...Tang Jo Pyung. Ah, you can call me Hyung too!"

"Okay, Brat-Pyung, you’re my favorite cousin from now on!"

"I'm older than you?"

"Details, details~" She giggled, grabbing another bottle and clinking it against his. "To the bottom!"

With that, the two of them smiled at each other, clinking their bottles every time, their laughter echoing in the dim room.

***

Light spilled into the room, making Tang Myung-Ya squint and turn away.

"Brat-Pyung, throw a cloth over the window or something," she mumbled, still half-asleep.

"Oh? Is the light bothering you?"

Tang Myung-Ya jerked upright.

"...Papa," she said, her voice laced with a tinge of fear as she saw her parent standing there, a strained smile on his face. Behind him, her other father, Tang Bo, had his hand covering his face, letting out an exasperated sigh.

"She's just like you," Tang Bo muttered, shaking his head as he turned to look at the other child with a weary sigh.

Chung Myung stomped over and grabbed her by the ear.

"Oww!"

"You little troublemaker! How could you drag Kid Pyung into this?"

"I didn't force him!"

"This brat—do you even know how worried Miss Shumin was?"

Tang Bo winced, feeling his own ears bleed from the scolding as he picked Tang Jo Pyung up and checked him over carefully.

"Still breathing," he reported with a sigh.

"See! He's fine!"

"Fine? Fineee?"

Chung Myung’s voice rose in frustration, a vein popping on his forehead

"How can he be fine when he’s drunk out of his mind?!"

"But he's breathing!"

"Aigoo, Sahyung! Why didn't you tell me I'm this hard to handle?"

Standing on the side, Tang Bo wisely kept his mouth shut, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire. He was getting more and more afraid to bed his wife tonight. Isn't his head going to be cracked if his Hyung randomly remembers any other annoyance?

Meanwhile, Tang Jo Pyung, feeling the world spin around him, groggily opened his eyes. Seeing the situation he was in, he tactfully chose to close them back. 

The only one to notice was Tang Myung-Ya.

"No, but this traitorous snake?" she mumbled with a betrayed tone before she was grabbed by the scruff of her neck and dragged away. Her ears rang as Chung Myung’s voice continued to scold her the entire way back.

She didn't notice the subtle tremor in her father's breath, nor the shaken look that briefly flickered across his usually composed face.

Chapter Text

Tang Bo pushed the door open with care, as if afraid it might creak too loud.

Chung Myung sat on the edge of the bed, arms crossed tightly, anger radiating off him like heat from a furnace. His expression was unreadable, eyes fixed somewhere far away.

“I left the kids with Tang Shumin,” Tang Bo said quietly.

No response.

Not surprised, Tang Bo closed the door gently behind him and walked over to sit beside his husband.

“What’s wrong?”

Chung Myung shot him a bewildered glance, as if he'd gone crazy.

Tang Bo fumbled to correct himself.

“I mean… It's not the first time Ah-Ya’s gotten into trouble. But you’ve never stayed upset this long.”

Chung Myung let out a long, shaky sigh, sounding more tired than frustrated.

"I'm not— I don't know."

Silence settled between them. 

Tang Bo didn’t push. He just reached out, his hand tracing slow, soothing circles across Chung Myung’s back. The silence meant his spouse was thinking—sorting through the storm inside.

So he waited.

Finally, after what felt like an hour, Chung Myung whispered so quietly it almost went unheard:

“Maybe I’m not ready for another one.”

Tang Bo's brows furrowed as the memory returned in vivid detail.

They had just gotten back when Tang Shumin ran up to them, her face pale with panic, voice trembling as she told them she couldn’t find the kids.

His heart had sunk. But it was nothing— nothing —compared to the look on Chung Myung’s face.

Maybe it was because Tang Bo had grown up among the Tang Clan. Tangs were many things—loud, dramatic, plain insufferable—but they protected children like sacred treasures. He hadn’t felt true fear… just concern.

But Chung Myung?

Chung Myung had bolted into action. No hesitation. No thought. Just pure instinct. He looked like a leopard that had its cubs taken away—wild, feral, and out for blood.

They’d found the children quickly, thank the heavens. They were safe, only a little dazed. Not even sick. No injuries. 

But still… even then, Tang Bo remembered how Chung Myung’s eyes kept scanning her. How his fingers discreetly checked her pulse and qi flow. How his voice, though raised in a scolding, wavered at the edges.

He had been terrified.

Tang Bo let out a quiet sigh, still tracing soft circles on his partner’s back.

"Aren't you being too harsh on yourself?"

Silence.

"We found them," he added softly. "It was just a few bottles of wine. They were—are safe."

"And what if it wasn't just wine?"

Oh.

Tang Bo froze, his mouth parting slightly in an O shape as it dawned on him.

It happened a couple of years ago. 

They were lounging at Tang Bo’s place, drinks scattered across the table. When they’d run out of wine, Tang Bo left the room for just a moment to fetch more. Only a few minutes. 

By the time he returned, Chung Myung had somehow found his stash of poisoned wine, tucked away and clearly labeled, but not locked.

Chung Myung had mistaken it for a drink, and had Tang Bo returned even a moment later, he could have—

A cold shiver rippled down his spine.

Yes, they’d trained Tang Myung-Ya in poisons—of course they had. But it wasn’t the same as a child of the Tang clan, who was fed poison from the cradle and built up immunity by surviving.

It was possible that if she were to stumble upon some poisoned wine, she'd drink it without a second thought.

"Ah-Pyung was with her." 

Tang Bo wasn't sure who he was trying to comfort.

It wasn’t like they could be around their children every hour of the day. And one day, they’d have to let them fly on their own. But that's not a conversation that even Tang Bo is ready for. Maybe in ten… twenty more years.

The only thing they can do now is teach them to the best of their capabilities and prepare them for it.

"I’m sorry," Tang Bo muttered as he ran a hand through his hair. "This is my fault. I should’ve… thought about this sooner. I should’ve made sure Ah-Ya understood the dangers. I—"

Tang Bo let out a bitter laugh, dragging a hand down his face.

“I grew up knowing poisons like the back of my hand, but that doesn’t mean she does."

Chung Myung opened his mouth to argue, but the words stalled in his throat. It wasn’t Tang Bo’s fault, but if he said that out loud, wouldn’t it make him a hypocrite?

"I was lucky to survive because you were there…" Chung Myung said, chewing the inside of his cheek.

“I don’t want my children to need luck."

Tang Bo's breath hitched.

“We won’t leave it to luck," he said firmly, wrapping his hands around Chung Myung's cold ones and intertwining their fingers. 

“We teach them. We guide them. And when they do make mistakes, we’re here to catch them."

Chung Myung’s shoulders sagged, though the tension didn’t entirely leave him. His gaze turned distant, his thoughts locked somewhere far off, where doubt and fear gnawed at him like shadows.

“And if we’re not?"

Tang Bo’s heart tightened, a rush of conflicting emotions swelling within him. He didn’t have an easy answer, couldn’t offer a simple solution, not even for himself. 

Instead, he squeezed Chung Myung’s hands tighter, grounding them both with the firm, reassuring touch. The words came softly, but with all the conviction he could muster. 

“Then we make sure they’re strong enough to catch themselves."

Chung Myung didn’t answer. He just held Tang Bo’s hands tightly, his grip almost bruising. His gaze remained far off, lost in thought.

A part of him wanted to argue, to insist that they had to be there, had to protect their children at all costs. But another part—a quiet, rarely acknowledged voice—knew Tang Bo was right.

"If you're truly not ready, we can wait," Tang Bo assured him. "But if it's just your stupid anxieties talking then…"

He reached up, the blackened ends of his fingers grazing along Chung Myung’s jawline, tilting his face so their gazes locked. 

Leaning closer, he let his eyes flutter shut, whispering, “I will try my best to prove them wrong.”

Their lips met, a heavy yet soft pressure against each other, warm and soothing.

Pulling back, Tang Bo readied himself for cuddles. While he was in the mood for more… intimate activities, his priority was still doting on his partner. He couldn't wait to shower him with kisses!

Hm? Why was his Hyung staring at him like that?

"Bo-yah."

Tang Bo tilted his head with a question mark. The mood had suddenly shifted, giving him goosebumps, despite not being threatened.

"Did you just call me stupid?"

"...Is that really what you got from—w-wait! Put your fist down!"

The swing moved with a sharp whoosh, sending a breeze that ruffled Tang Bo's hair, only to stop just inches from his head, tapping down with a soft thump.

"Uff," Tang Bo exclaimed dramatically, leaning his head down as if the blow had been far worse than it actually was.

Chung Myung paused, his gaze lingering on Tang Bo, before rising from the bed. He loosened his sash, allowing the robe to slip from his shoulders and pool on the floor.

Stupefied, Tang Bo watched as the fabric glided down Chung Myung's muscular back, the light hitting at a perfect angle, casting shadows that concealed the marks of his past training, making them seem almost like ghosts of another life.

When Chung Myung turned to face him, a faint blush tinted his cheeks. He stepped closer, and Tang Bo felt his heart race, unable to tear his eyes away.

"What are you waiting for? Give me the pill."

"R-right!" Tang Bo snapped back to reality, fumbling in his sleeves as he pulled out the pill, nearly letting it slip from his fingers but catching it just in time.

With an exaggerated eye roll, Chung Myung took hold of Tang Bo's wrist, drawing it toward his face. He leaned in, snatching the pill with his lips, leaving a teasing lick on Tang Bo's fingers as he pulled away, flashing a cheeky smile.

Chung Myung swallowed the pill and laughed at Tang Bo, who was caught off guard.

"Now, what were you saying about trying to prove something?"

Tang Bo found himself at a loss for words, his mind blank for a brief moment.

“You—” He couldn’t help but smile, a genuine laugh bubbling up. “Just don’t complain later on.”

With that, he quickly undressed, feeling a rush of excitement as Chung Myung stretched on the bed, craning his neck and popping his shoulder in eager anticipation.

“Ready?” Tang Bo asked, climbing onto the bed over Chung Myung, an eager glint sparkling in his eyes.

Chung Myung let out a deep breath, his body relaxing beneath Tang Bo’s weight.

"Go ahead."

Tang Bo’s hands grazed Chung Myung's chest, exploring the toned planes with a delicate touch. He leaned down, pressing soft kisses along the path his fingers traced, each gentle caress eliciting a shudder from Chung Myung.

Chung Myung gasped, arching his back slightly as Tang Bo nipped playfully at his collarbone. A rush of warmth bloomed within him as Tang Bo's fingers danced just above his waistband, teasing the sensitive skin of his lower abdomen.

The cool air drawn by the wet patches left on his body made him ache for the heat of Tang Bo’s mouth. And a strange tingling sensation lingered in the trail of the charred tip of Tang Bo's tongue. It left a fuzzy, prickling buzz feel across his skin.

For a moment, Chung Myung furrowed his brow, a flicker of concern crossing his mind, but it quickly faded as Tang Bo’s fingers found their way lower, drawing a soft gasp from him. Habitually, his legs parted, granting Tang Bo more space, their skin gliding together in a familiar dance.

When Tang Bo finally pulled away slightly, he admired the view in front of him—his lover flushed, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths, hair now disheveled, a slight, glowing pink hush in his eyes that spoke volumes about his desires.

A hungry smile tugged at the corners of Tang Bo’s lips as he drank in the sight before him. He reached into his sleeves, pulling out a small bottle of fragrant oil, its contents glistening in the soft light. He poured a generous amount into his palm, rubbing his fingers together to coat them with the slick, shimmering liquid.

Dropplets of the fragrant oil fell onto Chung Myung's stomach, and he shuddered at the cold sensation. Tang Bo exhaled softly, leaning down to press a tender kiss to the side of Chung Myung’s neck.

“You look tasty,” he murmured, his words muffled against the warm skin. His hands skimmed over Chung Myung's thighs, seeking the intimate zone nestled between his lover's legs.

A small wheeze escaped Chung Myung's lips as Tang Bo's thumb brushed over his entrance, while his tongue trailed down to the sweet, strawberry nubs of his nipples. Tang Bo couldn't help but smirk, fully aware of how much his lover craved this kind of attention.

Patiently coaxing the sensitive edges, Tang Bo bit his lip to stop himself from saying anything as Chung Myung's entrance felt loose within seconds. 

He licked his lips, blowing a warm breath onto the pink nipple that now peeked coquettishly, before finally pushing two digits inside. They slipped past the muscled ring effortlessly, bringing a tantalizing blend of warm skin and cold liquid as always, yet the prickling feeling was much more present.

With a gentle flick of his thumb, Tang Bo elicited a jolt from Chung Myung’s knees, which instinctively sought to close. Perhaps it was the heightened sensitivity inside him, but Chung Myung couldn't shake the odd feeling this time.

"Bo-yah, wait! Stop!"

It wasn’t an unpleasant sensation per se, but he was keenly aware that it wasn't just his health he was looking after.

Tang Bo halted abruptly, a look of concern crossing his face. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice filled with anxiety. "Did I cause you any pain?"

"No! Well, not exactly." Chung Myung stared at Tang Bo, confusion etched across his face as he tried to explain the feel. 

"There's an itch wherever you touch…" 

His eyes searched for answers in Tang Bo's and eventually landed on the darkened tips of his fingers. 

"Your fingers…?"

Tang Bo blinked, momentarily perplexed, as if he had overlooked something significant. Then, realization struck him like a cold wave. 

"Ah! Oh—I consumed some poison earlier, fuck, I didn't—" He pulled back, his heart racing as he inspected the faintly reddened spots blossoming across Chung Myung's skin, but froze, remembering that it was his touch that had caused this reaction.

"Uh—" Tang Bo flailed in bed, tripping over limbs as he scrambled to reach for his coat, tossing aside various items from his sleeves in a frantic search. "It's not here… I—I'll go look in my study, hang on—"

He barely took two steps before Chung Myung's hand shot out, gripping his arm.

"Is it something bad?"

"No!" Tang Bo hurried to reassure him. "No—It's not harmful, just itchy. I'll bring some medicine to soothe it."

"So it wouldn't affect the baby…?"

Tang Bo's heart sank at the question, and he hung his head low, scrunching his eyes shut with guilt.

"No! I—I’m truly sorry! I was raised with—I've been too careless with poison matters..."

Chung Myung fell silent, but his grip on Tang Bo remained firm. Rather, it seemed like he couldn't say anything as his breathing became increasingly ragged.

With a decisive blink, Chung Myung tugged hard, forcing Tang Bo to fall over him and cupping the younger lover's face in his hands.

"This guy is spouting nonsense again!" 

Despite his words, Chung Myung's eyes were rather warm. 

"I don't need medicine to be okay, do I? If anything happens, I know you'll just take care of it."

"How do you know I can take care of it?"

"I trust you."

Tang Bo gulped his swirling emotions, eyes still on Chung Myung. He noticed the way the other’s body grew warmer, his breaths more labored with each passing moment.

"I'll still bring something for the itch," he insisted, but Chung Myung's grip on his face tightened, an odd plea in his eyes.

"You want to leave me here like this?"

Tang Bo shifted, trying to get out of the lock.

"What? No, I’ll bring—"

It was then that his hand brushed against something hot and rock solid. Out of curiosity, he grasped the object of confusion, causing a sob to escape Chung Myung's lips.

That was… his Hyung's…

Now that he thought about it properly, Chung Myung's eyes gleamed quite hungrily, demanding his touch. It seemed that he was far more excited and turned on than usual.

Was he… enjoying this?

"My chest…" 

Chung Myung huffed impatiently, wrapping his arms around Tang Bo's neck to pull him closer, rubbing his nipples against the other’s chest. His rapid, heated breaths fanned across Tang Bo's face with a spark of longing before he licked and bit Tang Bo's lips.

"...Inside too."

"..."

It was clear that Chung Myung craved some form of relief, but rather than medicine, he very much preferred the…other method.

"...Hurry…"

"..."

Tang Bo swallowed hard, his heart beat like a chased rabbit. He could feel his own cock growing in response to the display of raw desire. His hand found its way once again between his lover's tights, and the hole easily devoured three—even four fingers without any resistance.

Chung Myung felt his senses heighten, each breath coming out as if he were drowning. As soon as Tang Bo's finger pressed deeper, Chung Myung instinctively bucked into the other man's hand.

"Deeper… there…"

Maybe it was the sudden rush of blood, but even the tip of Tang Bo's erection grew darker from poison. It's likely that it also shared the same… affection as his fingers and tongue do.

He was both poison and medicine, and as a devoted lover, Tang Bo would surely want to indulge Chung Myung in this moment of need, especially when it came to easing his… condition.

"It itches…"

A mischievous smile curved Tang Bo's lips. Taking his cue from Chung Myung, he removed his fingers, gripping Chung Myung's hips firmly.

"Hold onto me," he instructed, guiding Chung Myung to wrap his legs around his waist.

Chung Myung's pupils dilated as he stared down at his lover, who positioned himself leisurely at his entrance, savoring the delicious anticipation of the next act.

Tang Bo teased him, hovering his throbbing member over Chung Myung's entrance before playfully swiping it across, eliciting a whimper from him as the slick head glided over his exposed nerves.

"Bo-yah!"

"So impatient~"

Tang Bo clicked his tongue but pushed the tip of his engorged member inside Chung Myung. A deep sigh of relief escaped Chung Myung's lips as he felt himself slowly filled, inch by inch, with the warmth and fullness that he craved.

"Oohh…"

The tight walls clenched around Tang Bo's invading cock, the warm embrace driving him to push further until he bottomed out with a satisfied groan.

A shiver ran through Chung Myung's body, his internal muscles quivering and sucking instinctively around Tang Bo. The sensation of fullness and heat was overwhelming, like a flame burning him alive from within. 

The pleasure was nearly unbearable, and yet he wanted more.

"Bo-yah… please…"

Chung Myung's legs tightened around Tang Bo's waist, urging him to move. His tongue darted out, desperately brushing against Tang Bo's lips in an attempt to pry them open.

Tang Bo hesitated for a moment, captivated by the clear craving in Chung Myung's eyes. Then, parting his lips, he welcomed the plump tongue into his mouth. 

He returned the needy kiss, tangling and sucking each other's tongue as Tang Bo began to thrust slowly and deeply, each pump causing Chung Myung to moan into his mouth. 

Tang Bo had always loved the way their breaths mingled, intoxicating and rhythmic.

The way he could taste the faintest hint of wine. 

The way he was so easily overwhelmed by pleasure.

They broke the kiss, but it was a fleeting separation; Chung Myung chased after Tang Bo's lips like a cat in heat, desperate for his touch and attention. Tang Bo hummed in response, adjusting the angle of his thrusts, seeking out Chung Myung's most sensitive spots.

Chung Myung couldn't suppress the moan that escaped his lips when Tang Bo found that sweet spot deep inside him, sending waves of pleasure crashing over his body. 

Tang Bo chuckled softly, repeating the motion, delighting in the way Chung Myung arched his back, his breath hitching in pure ecstasy.

"Ah… fuck… B—Bo… Aah!"

Chung Myung gasped for air, losing himself to the pleasure, his mind consumed by the sensations. He felt like he was melting into the bed, his body trembling with each thrust.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room as Tang Bo increased his pace, his hips snapping forward with increased vigor. He kissed along the corner of his lover's mouth, licking and sucking on Chung Myung's skin, leaving marks of his own.

"Ugh! Agh!"

Chung Myung moaned, his fingers digging into Tang Bo's shoulders, clinging tightly as he urged him deeper. 

Tang Bo wrapped an arm around Chung Myung's waist, lifting his hips to meet his thrusts. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Chung Myung's as he swayed uncontrollably.

"Aa—aah!" Chung Myung panted heavily as Tang Bo struck another sensitive nerve, his hips bucking wildly in response. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, and he couldn’t help but claw at Tang Bo’s strong frame.

Chung Myung's toes curled as Tang Bo withdrew and then slammed back into him as deep as possible. A scorching sensation pooled in his belly as the movement halted.

"Haah…. Hyung…" 

Tang Bo struggled to catch his breath as he looked down at Chung Myung. Due to the erratic movement, the tears flowed all across his wife's face, and he couldn't help but lean and lick the wet trails from Chung Myung's cheeks before showering soft kisses around his eyes.

The milky seed provided soothing relief to the irritated, tender flesh inside Chung Myung, drawing a satisfied sound from his throat.

"Let's… stay like this for a bit…" Tang Bo exhaled, savoring the afterglow for a brief moment.

Somewhere in the midst of their passionate encounter, Chung Myung had reached his climax, though neither had noticed in the throes of pleasure, resulting in a sticky mess between their abdomens.

Carefully rolling around to avoid excessive movement while still inside his partner, Tang Bo reached for a cloth to clean away the cum and sweat that glistened on their bodies. 

"Do you want some water?"

"Mm."

Thankfully, they always kept a water bottle by the bed. 

Tang Bo lifted Chung Myung's head and brought the bottle to his lips, tilting it slowly to let the refreshing water flow.

Chung Myung finished drinking with a contented sigh, and Tang Bo couldn't help but smile at him, placing the bottle aside. Gathering a small amount of warm qi in his hands, he dragged his palms across Chung Myung’s body like heated stones, massaging each muscle with care.

His hands briefly glided over Chung Myung's stomach, and an excited smile crept onto Tang Bo’s face at the thought of another baby. Although they wouldn't know until the next day if their efforts had been successful, they should at least work two or three more rounds…just to be sure.

Tang Bo slid his palm back up, gently caressing Chung Myung's ample breasts, reveling in the contrasting texture of his roughened fingers against the softness of his lover's skin.

"Is it better now?"

"Yeah," Chung Myung purred softly at the touch, arching slightly into Tang Bo's hands. "That feels nice…"

A playful naughtiness bubbled within Tang Bo, and he rolled his hips experimentally.

"Aah!"

Chung Myung's eyes widened in surprise, a deep cry escaping his lips as Tang Bo's cock twitched inside him. His reddish eyes shot an accusatory look at the guilty party.

Tang Bo laughed huskily, pinching Chung Myung's nipples as he repeated the action, sliding his shaft in and out of Chung Myung's drenched channel.

"Bastard…"

"You seem to be enjoying it, thought?"

"…Shut up."

"Make me."

Chung Myung growled playfully, biting Tang Bo's lower lip and tugging on it as he wrapped his arms around the other man's neck, pulling him closer. He rolled his hips, grinding against Tang Bo, the sensation sending pleasant shivers down both their spines.

Tang Bo grunted, his cock throbbing at the sudden friction. He captured Chung Myung's lips in a searing kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of his lover's mouth as he matched Chung Myung's movements with his own thrusts.

"Hyung… you feel so good… huh… hah…."

"...So noisy."

The repeated friction caused Chung Myung's hairband to snap, resulting in a tangle of hair that only heightened the appeal of his rosy face.

"Tsk," Chung Myung clicked his tongue and ran his hands through Tang Bo's hair, pulling him into a slow, deep kiss as he fished out his hairpin. 

The brown strands flowed down freely, tickling Chung Myung’s skin. It stuck to his sweaty skin like those pesky weeds that got stuck on your clothes, but… 

It was more arousing when they both looked like a hurricane mess anyway. 

Tang Bo's lips curled into a titter against Chung Myung's mouth, his hips never ceasing their rhythmic thrusts. There are no words to describe how much he loved seeing Chung Myung like this - flushed, messy, and completely defiled, all by his hands.

"You're gorgeous," Tang Bo murmured, pulling back just enough to gaze into Chung Myung's eyes.

"Oh? This time you're not talking with a mirror?"

"...That's called confidence boost and I've only done it once!"

Chung Myung let out a short giggle that mixed with a short moan. 

"Heuk! Uh… Whatever you say, my handsome boy."

With a stumped, yet amused breath, Tang Bo nuzzled Chung Myung's cheek affectionately before rolling his hips harder, pushing deeper and earning a loud moan from his lover.

"Uhh…! Agh! Bo—"

Stars fogged his vision as his prostate was hit repeatedly. His arms slipped from Tang Bo's shoulders in a poor attempt to find his chest and relieve his neglected nipples.

Noticing Chung Myung's fumbles, Tang Bo grabbed his arms and guided them back around his shoulders. He then cupped Chung Myung's breasts, rolling them affectionately between his fingers. The red tips protruded enticingly, responding to his touch as they were squeezed and tugged.

"Hah… Hyung-nim… Does that feel good?"

"Yeah♡, Bo-yah... Like that... More…"

Chung Myung gasped, sticking out his tongue as he struggled for air, his body trembling from the overwhelming waves of pleasure washing over him.

"Ugh… Good♡ Aah… Aah!"

Their bodies were pressed so closely together that Tang Bo could feel Chung Myung's cock against his stomach. He could sense it twitching, while Chung Myung’s hole contracted wildly, signaling that he was nearing his peak.

"Bo-yah♡... I-I'm... Huff♡!"

"Me too… uh… I'm also coming."

Chung Myung could only whimper in acknowledgment, his fingers digging into Tang Bo's shoulders as he clung desperately to his lover.

Tang Bo gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to release as he continued to pound into Chung Myung's quivering core. Sweat dripped down his spine as he focused on prolonging the pleasure, determined to drive them both to the brink.

Chung Myung's breath hitched, his body tensing as he felt Tang Bo's cock swell inside him. His eyes rolled up,  and his whole body shuddered, squeezing Tang Bo's cock tightly in response.

"Nnghh!"

That small action shattered Tang Bo's self-restraint, and he couldn't suppress the strangled moan that escaped his lips as he spilled his seed into Chung Myung's welcoming depths.

"Oo..ohh♡…!"

Hot, creamy puddles bloated Chung Myung's stomach, causing his body to convulse and cry out as his own cock erupted, spurting between the narrow crevices of their glued abdomens.

"Hahh…"

Tang Bo let his body sag atop Chung Myung, their chests heaved against each other, feeling both too hot and too cold as sweat mingled with body fluids. Chung Myung's cheeks were still wet with tears, trailing down his face and mixing with strings of saliva.

With a grunt, Tang Bo lifted himself up, his body sticky with the aftermath of their passion. A moist, low sound echoed around the room as Tang Bo pulled out his cock, giving it a few pumps to renew some vigor.

"...Still going?" Chung Myung's eyelashes fluttered, looked tired already, likely drained from before due to the stress he suffered earlier this day.

"If you want to, we can stop for today," Tang Bo replied affectionately, picking up a cloth to gently clean Chung Myung's face.

Taking a breather to judge, Chung Myung stretched his limbs and back before replying.

"I'm good," he mumbled, yawning languidly. "Just give me a minute."

Chung Myung rolled onto his side, lifting his leg to grant his husband easier access, spreading his own hole with his fingers in an inviting manner.

No amount of masturbation could get Tang Bo's cock as hard as this sight always did. 

Gulping down the saliva stuck in his throat, Tang Bo helped Chung Myung by moving the floating leg over his shoulder, letting it rest comfortably.

"Here we go," Tang Bo exhaled warningly, pressing the head of his cock against Chung Myung's loose opening.

"Mmmn…!" 

They both moaned in unison as Tang Bo gradually pushed forward, filling his lover with himself once again. There was no resistance; his cock slid all the way in smoothly, pressing against the slick, slimy flesh walls.

"Uwhh…Kuh♡…"

Chung Myung quivered, his body going numb from pleasure, barely registering the prickling sensations of his lover's poisonous anaconda.

With ease, Tang Bo established a steady rhythm, relishing the slick warmth surrounding his shaft. Chung Myung's head tilted back, exposing his neck and releasing another breathy moan.

"Haa♡…gh!"

Despite the slower pace compared to their previous rounds, the pleasure was no less intense. In fact, this felt less like frantic, beast-like desire and more like a tender worship—a sincere adoration.

Maybe it was the time allowed to savor each loving, slightly possessive, and highly obsessive caress of his lover's touch that made this all more thrilling.

"I want a boy this time." Tang Bo suddenly blurted.

"What?"

"Give me a healthy one, alright?"

Chung Myung blinked, baffled before breaking into a snort. 

"Uh… you bastard… I can't decide that."

"Still, try your best."

There was a hint of genuineness in Tang Bo's words even as he continuously ground into his pelvis.

Chung Myung shook his head, chuckling lightly and washing away some of his lingering sleepiness. Perhaps that was the goal of this stupid conversation to begin with. Still, he curiously humored Tang Bo.

"And if it's a girl?" 

"Then we'll keep going until we get one."

"Oh? So if it's a boy, it's the last?"

"...W-wait, no! That's not what I meant!"

Chung Myung laughed, his eyes lighting with glee.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Tang Bo watched him with a pout. Out of pretense annoyance, Tang Bo's hands cupped Chung Myung's ass, pulling him impossibly close, and rotated his hips in slow circles, grinding against Chung Myung's prostate. 

"Aah♡ Ah!"

Chung Myung gripped the sheets, his knuckles turning white as his lover's assault sent shockwaves coursing through his body. 

The movement was excruciatingly slow, yet there was no respite as Tang Bo maintained persistent pressure on Chung Myung’s engorged prostate.

"Haah… Bo-yah♡… Uh…!"

His hips bucked involuntarily as his hole clenched around the invading length, trying to milk the cock inside him.

"I love you," Tang Bo whispered softly, his voice barely audible over the sound of their skin slapping together.

“Ah… nnn… don’t stop♡…"

It was unlikely that Chung Myung heard him in that state, but Tang Bo didn't need an answer. His fingers tangled in Chung Myung's sweat-soaked hair as Tang Bo captured his lips in a passionate kiss.

"I love you," he repeated, his words muffled against Chung Myung's swollen lips.

Tang Bo's thrusts picked up both depth and speed, barely registering the ropes of cum spraying everywhere as Chung Myung was fucked thought his orgasm.

“Aaugh… Bo♡ Ah! Bo♡, Bo-yah…!" Chung Myung cried out his lover's name repeatedly, pleading for him.

Tang Bo's heart swelled with emotion, pouring all his love into each powerful thrust. His hips snapped forward, driving his cock deep into Chung Myung's trembling body.

"I love you," Tang Bo gasped, his voice ragged with exertion and raw emotion. "I love you so fucking much!"

Chung Myung's eyes fluttered open, glazed with pleasure and something deeper—something that mirrored Tang Bo's own feelings. He reached up, cupping Tang Bo's face in his hands.

"I love you too!" He replied with urgency.

There were tears of pleasure flowing down both their cheeks, mixing with one another's as they entangled into a heated, desperate kiss.

They shared each other's air, breath, saliva, and sweat. Even as tears dried and sweat cooled, the feeling of fullness and warmth within Chung Myung had yet to go away.

It was almost as if he could feel every inch of Tang Bo, every fiber of his being, buried deep within him. Tang Bo’s love was etched into Chung Myung’s body and soul. His pace never faltered, and neither did the relentless movement of his tongue that plunged into his wife's mouth.

They were so close that neither could tell where one ended and the other began.

Tang Bo's rhythm became increasingly demanding, as if he sought to make Chung Myung collapse from sheer pleasure alone, and judging from the trembling of his legs, his lover was close.

Each time Tang Bo's cock pulled out of his hole, it felt like a part of Chung Myung was being taken with it, leaving him empty and craving more.

“Bo-yah… I… I can’t… haa♡!" Chung Myung cried, his voice breaking into sobs.

Tang Bo's legs trembled uncontrollably, his breathing growing exceedingly labored as he neared his own release.

“Mmgh…"

"Ahh♡ Nngh…!"

Tang Bo buried his cock to the hilt, his hot semen flooding Chung Myung's colon. He felt Chung Myung clench around him, sucking dry his cock as they both reached their peak. Tang Bo's body shuddered with each spurt, filling Chung Myung completely and painting his insides with his love.

"...Haah♡"

They didn’t know how long they lay like this, their bodies melted into one another. The shared scent enveloped them, intoxicating them more profoundly than any aphrodisiac. 

It felt like a sin having to refresh the room after.

"If it gets too cold, tell me." Tang Bo said, nudging his fingers back inside Chung Myung to scrape out the leftover seminal fluid.

“Mmn." Chung Myung yawned, already half asleep. The soothing massage only deepened his drowsiness as Tang Bo cleaned him thoroughly with tender care.

"I want a boy too…" Chung Myung murmured thoughtlessly, slowly surrendering to the depths of slumber.

Tang Bo chuckled silently, planting a gentle kiss on Chung Myung's forehead before pulling the blanket over their bodies and sliding beneath his lover.

Chung Myung's soft snores filled the silence of the room, his head resting comfortably on Tang Bo's chest. Tang Bo absently stroked his lover's hair, his gaze wandering to the window as the sunrise painted pastel colors across the sky.

Humming lovingly, Tang Bo brought a few strands of Chung Myung’s hair to his face, kissing them lightly.

"Sweet dreams."

Chapter Text

"Ugh… I'm going to die…" 

Chung Myung groaned dramatically, sprawled out on his stomach as he tried to stretch the ache from his lower back.

"Is the baby done yet?"

The sharp scent of peppermint filled the room as Tang Bo uncapped a small bottle. His expression was sincerely apologetic as he rubbed his hands together.

“I haven’t sensed anything yet,” Tang Bo answered as he poured the massage oil over Chung Myung's bare back. The peppermint mixture immediately absorbed the coldness and left a warm tingle inside the skin.

"Haa…" Chung Myung moaned, blissed out, as Tang Bo began to knead the tension from his body.

They’d been trying for a baby for just over three days now, with no luck. Every night was full of affection, and every morning, Chung Myung was left too exhausted to leave the bed until sundown, when they'd try again.

As a result, his body was stiff, sore, and drained.

There were times when even Tang Bo's limbs seemed to tremble, but he was obviously in a much better shape than Chung Myung. Even tending to his needs all day long without a complaint.

Well, it would be impossible for that leech to complain at the chance to pamper his lover and also get to touch and kiss him all night. But still…

Chung Myung thought back to the nights when they weren't trying for a baby. Sometimes, Tang Bo would overdo it and just collapse on top of him. The difference was too large at times not to be suspicious.

"Bo-yah?"

"Yes, Hyung-nim?"

"How come you have so much energy on some nights while fainting early on others?"

"Eh? I use medicine."

"Medicine?"

"Yeah. To help with stamina.”

"..."

"Bo-yah?"

"Yes, Hyung-nim?"

"You damned lecherous bastard. Hyung? What Hyung? This bastard dares call me Hyung?"

"Wh-what, why?"

"That medicine! How dare you keep it for yourself?"

"W-wait, don't kick me! I'll die! I will definitely die!"

"Haaah?"

"Your stamina is already so high! If you take medicine, I'll die!"

Chung Myung stopped with his fist still raised, eyes digging into Tang Bo as if he didn't quite believe him.

It seemed like Tang Bo's technique to act cute didn't work this time, so he had to pull out his ace card by dropping to his knees and begging for mercy, swearing he didn't have any ill nor lecherous thoughts for doing this.

And then, like an absolute fool, he kept talking.

"It’s because of you I had to make it in the first place!"

"Ha? How is it my fault?"

"Ack—last time I didn’t roll you properly, you went completely rabid for a week!"

"Isn't that still your fault?"

"The disciples of Mount Hua asked me to calm you down. Me! That’s how bad it got!"

An incredibly tiny sting of conscience bit Chung Myung. He slowly lowered his fist, but his glare didn’t let up.

"Why didn't you tell me then?"

 "I did! Don’t you remember?"

***

"I swear, Hyung-nim, you’re not even human when you get like this. I thought I was going to die. And not the good kind of dying—no, I mean like dead-dead, body-dragged-outside-in-the-morning kind of dying!"

Chung Myung stared at him.

No—through him.

He’d been minding his own business when Tang Bo suddenly appeared and dragged him away. Normally, that kind of stunt would earn the brat a concussion and a spot dangling somewhere off the side of the mountain.

But there was actually a pleasant surprise!

Two crates of wine and a full feast of snacks that Chung Myung enjoys.

This type of generous offering was usually done when either Tang Bo did something wrong or when Chung Myung did something wrong, and he needed to be pacified first.

The brat usually starts talking after Chung Myung goes well through at least the first crate, when he's already dizzy, doesn't think much, and his fists are less reactive.

But wasn’t he talking a little too much nonsense this time?

Chung Myung cracked his knuckles, thinking he should run some manners into the leech.

"Here, have another bottle."

Or maybe later. 

Hehe.

"I tried to keep up at first. I really did! I drank chicken broth and ginseng soup, I practiced breathing techniques, but nothing worked. Nothing! And then you gave me that look—the one that says ‘we’re not stopping until you see heaven’—and I panicked!"

Tang Bo waved his hands wildly, even though Chung Myung could barely see anything through his half-lidded eyes.

"So I went to the Patriarch and begged for help. And the old man gave me this secret Tang recipe and said, ‘One pill, no more than one per three days or you’ll burn your kidneys out.’ "

"Sir, respectfully, my kidneys are already halfway gone. Please. I am begging you. My lover is insane."

He paused, then jabbed a finger at Chung Myung’s barely functioning form.

"You crazy malko! One time, I couldn’t walk straight for two days and you were just sitting on the roof whistling like you hadn’t just ruined my entire spine. The disciples were asking if I had joined the beggars' sect!"

Tang Bo's shoulders slumped down, breath finally catching up to his rant.

"So I'll have to use the pill sometimes or I might actually go into qi deviation to keep up—here, have another bottle—is that alright?"

Another bottle did sound good.

So Cheong Myeong nodded.

***

"Crazy malko?!"

"N-not that—Ack!"

Another bump grew over the previous one, and if he were to get another, he could make a snowman.

"Fine then," Chung Myung huffed, reluctantly lowering his fist.

"Why hit me then…" Tang Bo mumbled, sulking just loud enough for it to be ignored.

Chung Myung made a valiant attempt to get up—only to collapse back onto the bed with a groan, his body kindly reminding him of its current condition.

"Augh! Bo-yah, massage, massage!" he whined, rubbing his lower back like he was trying to coax it like an old man.

With a small laugh, as if Chung Myung deserved this cruel fate, Tang Bo poured a bit of the oil onto his palms and began kneading Chung Myung’s lower back with gentle but firm strokes.

Chung Myung’s eyes fluttered shut almost instantly as the pressure from Tang Bo’s hands worked out the soreness.

"Hnnngh… right there…" he groaned, his voice low and half-dazed as Tang Bo hit a particularly tight spot along his spine.

Tang Bo’s hands moved skillfully, the rhythmic press-and-release technique doing wonders to alleviate some of the tension that will likely return by morning… for reasons.

"Shoulders too…" Chung Myung mumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow as he stretched his arms forward like a lazy cat demanding more attention.

Tang Bo chuckled again, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the center of Chung Myung’s back as his hands slid higher over his lover's naked body. 

"As you wish, my handsome tyrant."

***

Tang Bo let out a disappointed sigh as he drew his hand back from Chung Myung's naked belly.

"Still nothing?" Chung Myung asked more out of courtesy; his husband's reaction was enough of an answer. 

Tang Bo shook his head slowly.

"No. You’re successfully pregnant."

"..."

"Aigoo! I won’t be able to touch you as much now—w-wait, calm down!"

"This bastard has time to joke?"

Tang Bo yelped, dodging a kick just in time and tumbling to the floor with a thud.

Chung Myung stood up with a scowl, cracked his back mid-motion, and stomped over with terrifying determination. Before Tang Bo could scramble to safety, a bare foot planted itself firmly onto his chest, pinning him in place.

"Ack—mercy! Mercy!"

Tang Bo flailed weakly under the pressure, but the moment Chung Myung leaned over and grabbed him by the scruff of his collar, he froze like a rabbit under a hawk’s shadow.

Messy hair fell over Chung Myung’s eyes, casting them in a shadow that made his expression look ten times darker, ten times scarier.

"You've lost all common sense, I see." 

"N-no! My sense is very common! In fact, it’s exclusively common! Please, Hyung-nim—spare me!" 

Tang Bo squirmed helplessly, his arms stretched out like a saint being martyred.

Chung Myung narrowed his eyes, pressing his foot down just a little harder.

"Then why are you spewing so much nonsense?"

"Ow, ow, ow—I—I meant it with love! Deep love!"

"Deep love?"

"I swear! Aren't I risking life, money, and limb every day just to serve you like a humble, adoring husband?"

Tang Bo blinked up at him with exaggerated innocence, like a puppy trying to look pitiful after chewing the furniture.

Chung Myung rolled his eyes but couldn't stop the corner of his mouth from twitching up. 

"Fine. I’ll let you off this time," he said, easing off and settling back on the bed.

Tang Bo grinned, crawling over and resting his chin on Chung Myung’s thigh. 

"Because you love me?"

"Yeah, yeah, love. The kind where I want to strangle you with my bare hands one moment, then pull you close the next."

"Ah... true love."

"Cunning little thing," Chung Myung muttered, fingers slipping into Tang Bo’s hair, smoothing it back with idle affection.

Tang Bo let out a delighted chuckle and wrapped his hands around Chung Myung's torso, pulling his ear close as if he could hear something that wasn't even properly formed yet, just a distinct shift in qi.

"You’re so cruel, Hyung-nim," he murmured, voice warm with fondness. "First, you nearly break my ribs, then you try to act like you don’t love me." He nuzzled against Chung Myung’s belly, utterly unbothered by the earlier scolding.

Chung Myung snorted. "And what if I don’t?"

"Hmph," Tang Bo sniffed dramatically. "I'd cry. I'm your only love."

"Who said that?" Chung Myung replied with a lazy chuckle. "I’ve forgotten your name, let alone your face." He threw an arm over his eyes as if dismissing him. "Be gone with you."

Tang Bo laughed, his breath tickling Chung Myung's belly. 

"If you forgot my face, then let me remind you." 

He crawled up Chung Myung's chest, kissing and nipping playfully at the gaps between Chung Myung's fingers and face, trying to pry the hand away.

Chung Myung bit the inside of his cheek to prevent laughing at the ticklish feeling until he felt Tang Bo pull away. Curious at the sudden change, he lowered his hand just enough to peek out.

A cocky grin greeted him. 

"What? Miss me already?" Tang Bo teased, crawling back onto the bed and settling behind Chung Myung as he pulled a small comb from his sleeve.

Chung Myung rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. He planted both hands on the bed and tilted his head back in silent invitation.

Tang Bo got to work, carefully detangling Chung Myung’s thick mane, running his fingers through the silky locks, reaching for any missed strands. The warm, thick hair tickled his skin, a soft reminder of the night prior.

Chung Myung let out a soft hum of contentment, lulled by the gentle rhythm of Tang Bo’s hands. His eyelids fluttered shut, body gradually sagging under the familiar comfort, drifting in and out of a half-sleep.

A knock at the door broke the peaceful silence.

"Miss Shumin?" Tang Bo asked, unmoving from the bed as he sensed the familiar presence. "Is anything wrong?"

"...It's about the little lady."

Tang Bo tensed, already half-rising to tell Chung Myung to stay in bed, but the older man was faster.

Chung Myung was already up, throwing on the nearest Tang robe—barely managing to keep it from slipping off his shoulders—as he made for the door with a sharp, searching gaze.

Tang Shumin's shoulders jolted in surprise, but she quickly bowed to greet him and explain the situation.

"She has been very quiet lately."

While it didn't exactly sound like a problem for a normal child, this was the Twin Sovereigns' daughter they were talking about. She's either doing something, planning to, or has already done it. That or she's feeling unwell.

Chung Myung was already half down the hallway, messily tying the sash to keep the robe covering him. Tang Bo followed close behind, a heartbeat later—he’d probably paused just long enough to exchange a few words with the madam.

"Ah-Ya?" Chung Myung called out, whipping his head left and right the moment he entered Tang Shumin's quarters.

In an instant, small, rapid footsteps thudded against the wooden floor, and a small body barreled into him, arms wrapping tight around his waist.

"Papa!" The child yelped with a sob.

Chung Myung scooped Tang Myung-Ya up into his arms, holding her close. His brows knitted together as he examined her frowning face and wet eyes.

"Hey, hey, what happened?" he asked softly, his voice laced with worry as he cradled her gently against his chest. Her tiny hands clung to his robe with a desperate grip, like she feared he might vanish if she let go.

Tang Myung-Ya bit her trembling lip and buried her face in the crook of his neck as she began sobbing.

Tang Bo stepped in quickly, his expression drawn and pale as he gently wiped tears from his daughter's face with his thumb.

"What's wrong, sweet girl? Why are you crying?"

Tang Myung-Ya unfurled one of her hands and wrapped it around Tang Bo's hand, as if wanting to keep him close.

"Dad and Papa are here, don't cry," Tang Bo murmured gently, wrapping one arm around Chung Myung's side so he could nestle in closer.

Their daughter’s sobs began to quiet, though her grip remained vice-tight, clinging to them like lifelines. She trembled in Chung Myung’s arms, but there was a small sense of comfort in the closeness of her parents.

"I’m sorry," she whispered, voice thin and cracked. "I didn’t mean to make you mad… don’t leave me."

Chung Myung felt his throat close. Those words sank straight into his chest, lodging there like a blade. He closed his eyes, jaw tense as he fought back a rush of guilt and helpless anger—at himself, at whatever had made her feel this way.

Before he could speak, Tang Bo’s voice broke through.

"Sweetheart, you could never make us mad," he said softly, sweeping a few stray hairs from her forehead. "Is this about the other day?"

Tang Myung-Ya nodded slowly, though there was a lingering hesitance in her eyes, like it wasn’t the whole truth. Her small face crumpled, and she buried herself deeper into Chung Myung’s chest.

"I-I thought you left me," she hiccupped through quiet sobs.

"No, no baby," Tang Bo placed a gentle hand on his daughter’s back and rubbed small circles, his voice as soothing as he could manage. "No one is leaving. We’re here. We’re right here with you."

"Ah-Ya," Chung Myung pulled her back slightly, trying to get her to pay as much attention as she could. "We will never leave you. No matter what happens or what you do, you’ll always have us, okay?"

Tang Myung-Ya’s trembling stilled for a moment as she looked up at her father’s face, searching for reassurance. Her small hand, still tightly gripping her father’s shirt, seemed to relax ever so slightly at his words.

"Where were you?" 

That single question pierced the air like a knife. Tang Bo’s heart clenched. He glanced toward Chung Myung, who was still holding her tight, and saw the same weight of guilt reflected in his husband’s eyes.

"We were getting you a new sibling," Tang Bo explained. His hand combed gently through his daughter’s messy hair. "I told you, remember?"

"I don't want a new sibling!" Tang Myung-Ya burst out. "I want my Papa and Dad!"

"We'll be here, don't worry," Tang Bo assured her, yet a nervous sweat was dripping back his back, and Chung Myung didn't seem to be in a better shape.

"It's just that you'll have a sibling to play with, too! Isn't that great?" Tang Bo forced a small, hopeful smile.

"No!"

Tang Bo's heart dropped at her loud, desperate refusal.

When they first told their daughter about the idea of a new baby, she didn't seem to show any particular interest or displeasure, so they thought she was okay with it. But now it seems she might not have fully understood the meaning. 

They didn't want to upset her more than they already did with their mistake—no, rather neglect. They didn't imagine that their 'busy time' would be interpreted like that, even if it was barely four or five days.

But the baby was already starting to develop inside Chung Myung, and there was no going back now. The situation had become more complicated than they ever anticipated.

Tang Bo cleared his throat but couldn't find words, so he closed his mouth and glanced over to Chung Myung, perhaps he had a better idea.

…

Flowers bloomed around the Sword Saint’s frame as he stood serenely, eyes sparkling like a sage from an ancient scroll. He looked at Tang Bo with an expression that screamed: You got this!

'Hyung, are you really bailing on me right now? What happened to sharing suffering?!'

Chung Myung responded to his thoughts with a sage-like nod and a wink, as if he had bestowed divine parental enlightenment upon him.

Tang Bo didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. But he definitely wanted to punch him.

He turned back to their daughter, who was still clinging tightly to Chung Myung's chest, eyes puffy and red but no longer spilling fresh tears. Her breathing had steadied, and thankfully, her fear and sorrows seemed to be gone.

"Sweetheart," he began gently, his voice low and soothing. "We know this is a lot, but we’re still the same, okay? Nothing's changing. You're always going to have us."

"...A sibling..." Tang Myung-Ya said slowly, testing the word like a new flavor.

"Yes?" Tang Bo’s eyes lit up with cautious optimism.

"Would it be like Brat Pyung?"

"Isn't he older?" Tang Bo muttered, thinking on how they've raised their child, but one quick glance at Chung Myung and everything makes sense.

Well, whatever.

"Yeah, it's exactly like that!"

"Then I don't want one!"

"Ah… right. That was my mistake." 

Tang Bo's hopeful smile twitched, mostly due to Chung Myung, who was holding it together about as well as a cracked teacup, his shoulders visibly shaking with the effort not to burst out laughing.

This traitorous beauty has no conscience!

Straightening his spine, Tang Bo got into a Confucian negotiator pose and returned his attention to Tang Myung-Ya, who was now frowning suspiciously like a general interrogating enemy spies.

Tang Bo cleared his throat with a gravity befitting a man about to present a thesis to the heavens themselves.

"My dear daughter," he began, palms pressed together like a humble monk. "Let us examine this situation with the clarity of sages and the wisdom of our ancestors."

"Let us say," Tang Bo continued, pacing slowly in front of her and Chung Myung like a scholar lecturing beneath a peach blossom tree, "this new sibling is not like Ah-Pyung. Let us imagine, instead, a being of pure joy and admiration. A small creature who gazes upon you with sparkling eyes, treats you like a hero!"

"..."

Tang Myung-Ya stared up at him, unconvinced but curious.

"Imagine this little being," Tang Bo continued with a flourish of his sleeve, "who listens to your every command with the reverence of a thousand disciples—"

"Listen to my commands?"

"Y-yeah! With the loyalty of a thousand lifetimes!"

Unless they're another Chung Myung, in which case we all suffer together.

"…Can I beat them up if they annoy me?"

"...You may... delegate that to us," Tang Bo said, diplomatic to the last breath.

"If I don't like it, can I send them back?"

"No refunds."

"Tch." Tang Myung-Ya scrunched her nose, not fully convinced—but no longer hostile to the idea. 

"...I’ll think about it."

"Of course! Take your time, sweetheart. No pressure at all," Tang Bo said with the bright, brittle enthusiasm of a man who knew how fragile peace could be.

Internally, he cheered for the temporary ceasefire. But the war didn't seem over yet. It was best that they convince her first before breaking the news to her.

A soft grumble echoed from Tang Myung-Ya’s belly.

"Should we go eat?" Chung Myung rubbed Tang Myung-Ya's small back. "It's getting late, and I bet you haven't eaten all day."

"I want Dad's dumplings!" she announced, perking up at once.

Tang Bo chuckled and reached over to gently brush the silky strands of hair away from her face.

"Alright then, it's settled!" 

A cocky grin crept onto Tang Bo’s face as he turned to glance at Chung Myung— 'Are you impressed by me?'

There was a soft smile adorning Chung Myung's face, his eyes crinkling as if he were the proudest man alive.

A blush rose on Tang Bo's face, and he turned quickly back to his daughter.

"Let's go make those dumplings together."

Tang Myung-Ya jumped from Chung Myung’s arms, her energy restored, and dashed ahead—only to skid to a halt a few steps later.

"Dad, are you getting old?" she called, turning back with hands on her hips. "Come faster!"

"This brat! No respect for your father!" Tang Bo yelled back playfully.

"I’ll go back to bed," Chung Myung said with a yawn, voice casual—but Tang Bo knew better.

"Hm? Ah—Oh, right," Tang Bo's concerned frown returned, seems like he had quite a lot today. "Are you feeling okay? Should I walk you back?"

"Dad!!" came the dramatic wail from further down the hall, complete with an impatient little stomp.

"She’s hungry," Chung Myung said simply. "And I can take care of myself."

Tang Bo raised a hand instinctively—wanting to reach for him—but stopped just short. He nodded, though his eyes lingered on Chung Myung for a moment longer.

"Alright."

Tang Bo threw back a few more glances at Chung Myung, even as his sleeve was grabbed by Tang Myung-Ya, who seemed ready to wolf some food, rather than cook it.

Chung Myung watched them go, his smile dimming into something softer—tired, maybe, but content. On his way back, he passed Tang Shumin, who stood at a respectful distance, giving the family their space. He offered her a brief, reassuring smile and a quiet word of thanks before continuing on.

Once inside the room, he let himself fall onto the bed, exhaling a long, deep breath as the quiet finally settled in.

The first days of forming the fetus were quite taxing. His body has yet to adjust to the sudden spike in energy consumption.

He had completely forgotten what it felt like.

Pregnancy was a pain. Not that he regretted it. Though in hindsight, since doing it with poison got Chung Myung a little more excited, they might have put more passion than necessary.

Thankfully, hard work also paid off. It worked much faster than when they were trying for Tang Myung-Ya.

Now, lying alone on the bed, his hand drifted down to cradle his abdomen. Stange, it wasn't even properly formed, yet there was something soothing about it. A subtle comfort. 

Slowly, his thoughts began to blur, drifting toward sleep.

What did he feel when Tang Myung-Ya was just forming in his body? Wasn't he still in disbelief back then?

It felt unreal, the realization that a life was growing inside him came very slowly, and the idea of being a parent was… surreal. Foreign. It had been thrilling and terrifying all at once.

This time, there was a quiet familiarity to it. He was still anxious—how could he not be?—but experience gave that anxiety softer edges.

But… isn’t this nice?

He closed his eyes.

I hope this child grows up healthy and strong.

Just like Tang Myung-Ya.

Tang Myung-Ya… That girl.

He should send a letter to his Sahyung. 

Was he also that stubborn when Chung Jin became a disciple? He's pretty sure he didn’t do anything bad. Just… hung the kid off a mountain for being rude.

…

Ah-Ya wouldn't do that to her sibling.

…Right?

Chapter Text

"Are you crazy?!"

Tang Bo didn’t even flinch at the hit he got for speaking up, rubbing the forming bruise on his arm.

"Just send a letter," he argued.

"It's too slow," Chung Myung grumbled, tapping his foot impatiently. "What if Ah-Ya becomes hostile again before we even get a response?"

"But running to Hwasan in your condition…" Tang Bo's eyes scanned him up and down before crossing his arms.  "Anyway—not allowed!"

Chung Myung shot him a stubborn look, but Tang Bo stood his ground, his expression unwavering. 

It became a silent standoff. And, as usual, Tang Bo lost.

"Agh, fine!" He threw his hands up. "Write the damn letter and I’ll go."

"Good," Chung Myung said smugly, already fishing out brush and paper like he had planned this from the start. "Make sure you run fast, too."

"What am I now, a delivery bird?"

"Why? Did I ruffle your feathers?" Chung Myung replied, completely shameless, dipping the brush in ink and scrawling quickly. "Fly away now, my sweet canary."

"Just so you know, canaries aren't messenger birds!" Tang Bo shot back as he tucked the letter inside his sleeve. "I should be back by midnight."

Tang Bo leaned over, planting a feather-light kiss on Chung Myung's lips. 

"Don't overexert yourself." 

Before Chung Myung could respond, Tang Bo had already dashed off, disappearing from sight in a blur of green. He seemed quite set on finishing his run as fast as possible.

The door slid open again, and a tiny menace stepped inside.

"Dad's not with you?" Tang Myung-Ya asked suspiciously, peering around the room as if Tang Bo might pop out from behind a cabinet.

Still cross-legged on the floor, ink brush in hand, Chung Myung gave her a lazy smile.

"He flew away."

Question marks seemed to sprout above Tang Myung-Ya's head as she stared at him.

Chung Myung chuckled and set the brush down.

"Come on," he said, rising to his feet with an exaggerated stretch. "Let's get some training in."

"Why? I didn’t even do anything bad!"

"Training isn't punishment," Chung Myung said, flicking her forehead lightly. "It's preparation."

Tang Myung-Ya pouted, rubbing her forehead.

 "You're so mean," she grumbled, but she was already following him outside with a small spring in her step.

Chung Myung hid a smile.

"Why is this brat here too?" Tang Myung-Ya complained, a hint of betrayal in her voice.

"I thought you two were buddies?" Chung Myung crossed his arms and tilted his head. Did he read it wrong?

"He's a snake!"

Tang Jo Pyung was sitting to the side, a nervous smile plastered on his face as he avoided Tang Myung-Ya's gaze.

"I don't know what you mean…"

"Liar! Traitor!"

"Uh," Chung Myung scratched his chin. How do people bond again? Shared experiences? He can do that.

"Alright then, 1000 push-ups!"

The kids' faces paled.

"Haha, elder, surely you are joking…?"

Sweat dripped down Tang Jo Pyung's back, and it seemed his younger cousin had long given up on trying to argue.

"Devil, Papa is the devil," She mumbled as she got to work, knowing it would be easier to save her breath and finish sooner.

The smile on Chung Myung's face hadn't flattered once.

"Ya-ya… are you… hahh ... still alive?" 

Tang Jo Pyung stared blankly at the sky, limbs splayed uselessly across the dirt. He didn’t even have the strength to turn his head. Silence followed, and he wondered if she’d respond at all.

"...Don't call me that."

"Heh, ow…." 

Even laughing hurt.

On the bright side, the Plum Blossom Sword Saint seemed to have gone somewhere else, and Tang Myung-Ya was too tired to walk away. Perfect chance for them to talk.

"I'm sorry for pretending to sleep back there."

"..."

Tang Myung-Ya’s fingers twitched weakly against the dirt. For a moment, she said nothing, just continued lying there, her chest rising and falling with slow, exhausted breaths.

"Did you get punished later?"

"I did."

"Serves you right."

"..."

Tang Jo Pyung winced, but he couldn’t bring himself to be upset by her words. He had it coming, after all.

"Are you still mad at me?"

"I’m still mad," she said, her voice flat but no longer venomous.

"I’ll earn it back," he mumbled. "Somehow."

Tang Myung-Ya didn’t answer, but she didn’t insult him either. In the realm of Tang Myung-Ya, that was practically a handshake.

The two of them lay there in silence, sprawled out like broken dolls under the wide sky. Clouds floated lazily overhead, and the sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting golden light across the training grounds.

Up in a tree not far off, Chung Myung sat cross-legged on a branch, watching over them with a pleased glint in his eye.

Bonding through shared suffering.

Truly heartwarming.

***

Tang Bo did not return at midnight.

Chung Myung watched as dark clouds drifted across the sky, smothering the moonlight. Not a single star in sight.

"Papa," Tang Myung-Ya called to him, raising her hand to give him a mooncake.

"Your Dad will scold you if he catches you eating sweets before bed," Chung Myung pointed out, but took the mooncake in his mouth nonetheless, leaning down so she wouldn’t have to strain herself.

"We're accomplices," she whispered, giggling as she raised a finger to her lips.

Chung Myung chewed slowly, savoring the sweetness on his tongue, before sitting down beside her. His hand lightly brushed over her messy hair, smoothing it back.

"Why don’t you want a sibling?"

"I don't need one."

"You don't need this candy either."

"The candy is not annoying."

Her voice came dry, and her eyes looked far away, as if remembering something. Chung Myung watched her carefully, the playful smile fading from his face. He shifted a little closer, lowering his voice to something softer.

"Is this about Kid Pyung?"

"Huh? Why would that brat come up?"

Chung Myung raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. 

"You tell me."

Tang Myung-Ya scrunched up her face, pulling at a loose thread on her sleeve.

"It's not…"

Chung Myung waited patiently, giving her space to sort through her tangled thoughts. Eventually, she spoke, her voice smaller than before.

"Is it because I'm a girl?"

"What?" Chung Myung's eyes widened in disbelief. "Why would you think that?"

"...Dad said he wants a boy."

"Bo-yah, that fool..." Chung Myung shook his head and pulled Tang Myung-Ya closer. "He didn’t mean it like that. He already has a daughter, so he just thought it’d be nice to have a son too."

"Why?"

"Hmm, how do I put it…?" Chung Myung furrowed his brows in thought, eyes half-closed. "It's like… do you want mooncakes?"

"I already have some. But I’ll take more!"

"What about candied fruit?"

"That too!"

"So... you don’t want mooncakes anymore?"

"Can't I have both?"

"That's what Bo-yah wonders too."

Chung Myung chuckled as he watched Tang Myung-Ya think of the logic. 

Tang Myung-Ya blinked, her expression slowly shifting from confusion to understanding. She tilted her head, a thoughtful frown forming on her face.

"So, it's not that he doesn't want me. He just… wants both?"

"Knew you were a smart girl." Chung Myung ruffled her hair with a grin full of pride.

"Then it’s not because I can’t fight like him?"

"If you want to throw daggers, then throw daggers. If you want to swing a sword, then swing a sword. Why does it matter if you are a girl or a boy?"

"That…"

"Where did you even get that idea?"

Tang Myung-Ya fidgeted with her fingers before confessing.

"Some of the other Tang brats said… nobody would want a girl."

"Tang Jo Pyung?"

"No, others."

"Do you know their names?"

There was a dangerous edge to Chung Myung's smile.

"No, but I beat them up!"

"That’s my girl." He raised a hand, and they shared a triumphant high-five.

Tang Myung-Ya beamed, her face lighting up with pride at the memory. She raised her arm in mock celebration—still a little winded from the day's training, but her spirit clearly renewed.

"Also," Chung Myung said as he pinched her cheek to grab her full attention, "next time, tell us too, you sneaky brat!"

"Oww, I will, I will!" Despite her grumblings, a few giggles escaped.

"Then how about a sibling now?"

"Fine. As long as it's not a brat like Brat Pyung."

"He's not that bad."

Tang Myung-Ya scoffed and turned her nose away.

"You just don't know him!"

Chung Myung let out a snort and threw the blanket over her head. Tang Myung-Ya yelped as the blanket covered her, immediately squirming beneath it in protest. 

"Hey! No fair!" she muttered, her voice muffled by the fabric.

"That's what you get for being a brat," he said, tightening the blanket snug around her.

Tang Myung-Ya sighed, resigned to her fate. She sat up, pulling the blanket closer around herself. The softness of the fabric felt nice against her skin, and she couldn't help but snuggle into it a little deeper. She glanced up at Chung Myung with a small pout, but he just gave her a knowing smirk in return.

She nestled deep into the blanket, her breathing slowing as sleep claimed her. Chung Myung watched her for a moment, a fond smile spreading across his face.

"Goodnight, little tiger," he whispered, his voice gentle as he finally let himself relax.

"Night, Papa…" came her soft reply, muffled by the blanket.

***

Tang Bo stumbled into the room in the early morning and promptly fell over Chung Myung.

"Where did this beggar come from?" Chung Myung yawned, blinking blearily.

"Haha, very funny," Tang Bo grumbled. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and his robes looked like he’d fought wild animals—and he lost. "The guards said the same…"

"..."

"...and they wouldn't let me in…"

"Pft–" Chung Myung bit his knuckle to stifle a laugh, careful not to wake the girl still sleeping soundly at his side.

"Want to talk now?"

"I'm too tired…" Tang Bo whined, but his hands were roaming around, trying to get inside Chung Myung's night robe.

Chung Myung caught Tang Bo’s wandering hands with an unimpressed look, his voice a low hiss.

"Yah, control yourself. The kid's right there."

"I’m not gonna do anything," Tang Bo mumbled, already collapsing against him like a scolded dog. "I just want to hold something warm."

Chung Myung rolled his eyes but didn't push him away. Instead, he shifted slightly, tugging the blanket up higher to cover both Tang Bo and Tang Myung-Ya properly.

Tang Bo made a contented noise, nestling over Chung Myung's chest like an overgrown cat. His grip was tight as if he hadn't seen Chung Myung in years. He always gets this clingy after a talk with his Sahyung.

Chung Myung stroked the back of Tang Bo’s neck, feeling the slight tension that still lingered there. The bed was getting a little too small, even with Tang Bo atop him. He’ll complain later.

Beside them, Tang Myung-Ya blinked sleepily, confusion flickering in her gaze until it settled on the familiar tattered green robe.

"Welcome back..." she murmured before yawning and promptly dozing off again.

Chung Myung stared at the ceiling, exhaling softly.

Aigoo… what was he supposed to do with these two lazybones?

He had no choice but to also fall back asleep. 

Such a predicament.

***

"So I never complained?" Chung Myung raised an eyebrow as Tang Bo relayed his Sahyung’s response, even though the full letter was right there.

"You did complain, just not like Ah-Ya." Tang Bo corrected. "Should we ask Madam Shumin?"

Chung Myung threw him a glance as if he were crazy. Based on how Chung Myung had seen the Tangs interact when they grew older, wanting to kill each other, how could he take advice from them?

"It's fine. I solved it."

"You solved it?"

"Yah. Apparently, your bloodline played a faulty part, too."

"Ugh, what did they do now?"

Tang Bo was rubbing his head before he even heard the whole thing. Just as a mental preparation, yet it wasn't enough.

"Those bastards…"

"Nobody said anything. Think they’re planning something?"

"I'm sure they were just embarrassed to admit a girl bested them."

"Sounds like Tang to me."

"So she's alright with having a sibling now?"

Before Chung Myung could answer, Tang Myung-Ya’s unmistakable voice rang through the halls.

"Yah, snake Pyung! Where are you running? If I get a sibling like you, I'll be sure to beat him up too!"

"..."

"Kinda?"

Chung Myung let out a nervous laugh. Kids were unpredictable. One day, they wanted to ride horses, the next, they swore lifelong vendettas against them.

"It's progress, it's progress…" Tang Bo echoed, more like he was trying to convince himself. His gaze drifted to the plate of mooncakes on the table. Suspiciously untouched.

"Did you eat yet?" he asked, already halfway to standing, ready to make something if he had to.

"I'm not that hungry," Chung Myung replied casually before a yawn shook his body.

Not hungry? Chung Myung?

To a stranger, it might seem normal. But Tang Bo knew better. His Hyung was a glutton at the best of times—and during pregnancy? He should’ve been devouring half the kitchen by now.

Instead, lately, he seemed tired all the time. Not sluggish, but heavy .

Tang Bo’s brows drew together. The alarm bells in his head were quietly but insistently ringing.

"Does anything hurt? Or are you craving something else?"

"No," came the mumbled response. Chung Myung’s head lolled forward, and before Tang Bo could speak again, he’d already dozed off right there at the tea table.

His breathing was calm. Peaceful, even. But it didn’t settle the anxious churn in Tang Bo’s chest—his heart sank with worry.

He reached out and gently shook his shoulder.

"Hyung-nim?"

"Hm?"

There wasn’t really a reason to wake him. He’d been tired like this during Tang Myung-Ya’s pregnancy, too. Still, something about it wasn’t the same. The lack of appetite gnawed at Tang Bo’s thoughts like a mouse in the pantry.

Not all pregnancies were the same. He knew that. Symptoms could vary. But the one constant? The body needed more energy. More food.

So why wasn’t Chung Myung eating?

Tang Bo bit his bottom lip. Then, before Chung Myung could drift off again, he gently murmured:

"Let’s go nap in a bed, alright?"

Perhaps it's the lack of exercise that makes Chung Myung not feel hungry. So even though it's just moving back to their chambers, he should make sure Chung Myung gets a little exercise.

"Alright." Chung Myung yawned again, his words thick and slurred. He blinked slowly, as if his eyelids were weighed down with stones. His gaze wandered, unfocused, and he swayed just slightly on his feet.

***

Tang Bo entered his study, intending to research the problem. Perhaps it was just needless worry.

As his eyes skimmed the room, they caught on a book that looked suspiciously new.

Ah, he recently bought… material. After he noticed that Chung Myung got a little more excited just from some poison, Tang Bo realized he might lack in bed techniques, so he bought a book to get some more ideas.

Idly, he picked it up and turned the pages. His ears blushed a reddish as he looked over the vulgar pictures. This… just imagining doing these with his lover had his heart doing flips—and other things stirring too.

It will be good to try these once they can do it again.

"What are you reading?"

Tang Bo jumped as if struck by lightning.

The book went flying out of his hands and landed with a thud on the floor. He scrambled to cover it, nearly flipping a tea tray in his rush.

He looked up.

Chung Myung was standing at the door, blinking sleepily but with those sharp red eyes already zeroed in on him.

The same eyes from his imagination. 

That same face. 

In those poses.

He was too quiet. He knew he had to say something— anything —before the awkwardness devoured them both whole.

What can he even say now? The red eyes watched him intensely, just like—

Maybe he should just confess.

"Hyung-nim, I love you very much! Will you marry me?"

"..."

Ah. Wrong confession.

Tang Bo cleared his throat and coughed into his fist, desperately wishing the floor would open and swallow him whole. Anything would be better than this silence. Maybe if Chung Myung laughed, he could pretend it was a joke. But the man just stood there… blinking.

"I was… studying."

Chung Myung’s eyes drifted down to the very obvious book still clutched in Tang Bo’s guilty hands.

"How to please your male wife?" He read the title aloud.

Tang Bo stiffened. His ears were burning. Why didn’t he throw the book out the window?!

"I… wanted to try different things…" he mumbled, unable to meet those crimson eyes. His fingers gripped the book tighter, as if trying to squeeze the shame out of it.

Chung Myung stared at him for another agonizing moment. Then—his lips twitched.

"Tang Bo-ya…" he drawled, taking a step closer to his younger lover. "I always thought you were just a pervert."

Tang Bo's tongue itched with complaints, but he let Chung Myung finish. Did he finally realize that Tang Bo's intentions are all pure, even when they weren't?

"But it seems that wasn't even your full potential."

"..."

"You're truly the most pervert of all perverts."

"..."

Chung Myung clapped Tang Bo on the shoulder and grabbed the book.

Tang Bo opened his mouth to protest, but Chung Myung was already flipping through the pages. His face grew even redder with each page turned, and his fists clenched as Chung Myung laughed at each and every position, even making some commentary.

"Whoa, look at this one… can you do it that way?… How do they do it?… Does it really work?"

"You should try it if you're so interested," Tang Bo grumbled.

"Should I?"

"Don't play with me like that," Tang Bo tried to sound annoyed, but his voice betrayed him. The idea—Chung Myung, actually interested—sent his thoughts spiraling. He had only meant to study the theory, not get ambushed by the subject of his fantasies.

"I don't play," Chung Myung grinned, his eyes scanning the page. "But I could give it a try."

Tang Bo swallowed hard, his throat dry as he nodded slowly.

"Okay."

He blinked, unsure if he imagined the whole exchange. But Chung Myung was still thumbing through the book, occasionally pointing out positions that seemed interesting or worth trying out.

It was a small yawn that reminded Tang Bo of why he was here.

"Did you have anything to eat yet?" He asked as he moved around the room, looking for certain books.

"A little."

Tang Bo hummed, not fully reassured. At least Chung Myung wasn't fully abstaining from food. Perhaps it wasn't that serious. His fingers stopped over a certain book title, and he grabbed the whole pile before sitting on the floor to read.

This time, he didn't jolt when muscular arms wrapped around his middle and a chin rested on his shoulder. Chung Myung hugged him from behind without a word. His black hair tickled Tang Bo’s neck, and though his gaze faced the book, he wasn’t reading.

Perhaps he came here to get some affection but was too embarassed to ask. Tang Bo wasn't going to point it out either way.

His body temperature was normal, perhaps a bit cold, but it could be just the cool, ventilated room. His breathing didn't seem unusual either.

Chung Myung didn't seem sick.

That was good.

The sound of pages being shuffled lulled Chung Myung to sleep, and Tang Bo didn't dare move even if his shoulders ached. It was like having a cat fall asleep on your lap. You didn't want to disturb them, even if it was uncomfortable.

So he stayed still.

Hours passed. He shifted only when the weight of Chung Myung’s body made his arm go numb. It woke Chung Myung up too, who was looking a bit embarrassed at this position.

"How much time has passed?" he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes.

“Maybe half a day?”

Chung Myung nodded blearily and stood, straightening his robe. "I'll go check on our kid."

Tang Bo watched him go, missing the warmth almost instantly. With a quiet sigh, he closed the book. He hadn’t learned much—just a rehash of what he already knew.

Could it be something unique to martial artists?

***

Over dinner, Tang Myung-Ya was throwing glances at Chung Myung, then at Tang Bo. It seemed even she had noticed the decreased appetite of her parent. He couldn't have the kid worry too.

Tang Bo cleared his throat and tried to redirect her attention.

"Ah-Ya, how was your day?"

"I beat—trained Brat Pyung," she said with a nonchalant shrug. "Not much happened. He managed to hit me once though, so maybe he’s improving."

"You’re training him now?" Tang Bo’s eyes flicked sideways toward Chung Myung, almost expecting a sharp comment from him. Normally, he’d leap at the opportunity to tease their daughter or remind her not to let her guard down.

But nothing came.

Chung Myung just chewed slowly, pushing rice across his plate more than eating it.

"Papa said we know enough to train on our own when he's busy."

It's true, but…

Tang Bo couldn't stop the worry gnawing at him. This wasn't normal. Chung Myung might be a little lazier than before, but he always had the energy to scold Tang Bo or their kid, and he could at least throw a remark.

The plate was left half full that night.

Chapter Text

Tang Bo started the day with a headache.

Why?

Just a bad feeling.

And it proved right when a council meeting was suddenly called.

"I really don't want to go," Tang Bo whined, hugging Chung Myung's waist and refusing to get out of bed.

Chung Myung smiled with a shred of sympathy, patting the younger man on the back. He glanced to the side, at their sleeping daughter.

"Do you think it's related to Ah-Ya?" He asked quietly, voice low so he wouldn’t wake her, not that she was easy to rouse.

"I hope not, or I might end up killing somebody," Tang Bo muttered with a chuckle, but deep down, there was a serious tone.

Chung Myung replied with a similar chuckle, as if sharing a small joke.

A brief silence settled between them, warm but heavy.

Then Tang Bo sighed.

“I should get dressed.”

He rose from Chung Myung’s embrace with reluctance, and Chung Myung’s gaze followed him, sharp and lingering. He admired the way the early light curved around Tang Bo’s lean, muscled back. It was always fascinating how that strength seemed to vanish once he put on his robe, his silhouette deceptively slim.

A trick, surely. A weapon of illusion.

Chung Myung’s fingers twitched with the desire to reach out, to trace the lines of Tang Bo's spine, to draw idle patterns across his muscles underneath the green robe. Like a gift waiting to be unwrapped.

“Do you want anything specific to eat?” Tang Bo asked, bustling around the room as he double-checked his sleeves and restocked accordingly. “I’ll ask the servants to cook something for you two.”

"Chicken thighs?" Chung Myung replied hesitantly, as if there was something else he'd rather bite into at the moment. But alas, it cannot always be his way.

"Alright." 

Tang Bo leaned down to kiss him lightly, then crouched by the bed to press a gentler kiss to their daughter’s forehead.

"Dad?"

Tang Myung-Ya rubbed her eyes, blinking sleepily at her parent, who seemed like he was leaving somewhere.

“Morning, sweetheart. Sleep well?”

"Mhm… where?"

"I'm going to listen to old men complain. I'll be back soon."

Tang Myung-Ya nodded faintly and snuggled closer to her other father, mumbling something that might’ve been a goodbye. Tang Bo's eyes softened at her relaxed face. He wanted to lie back down and cuddle with her, too, and bask in the sight of Chung Myung's sleep-flushed face. 

People often overlooked it, but Chung Myung was the most beautiful man in the world. That sharp tongue and unruly temper just distracted from it.

It was strange how he was going to be in the same place, just another building, yet it felt too far from his family. From his comfort.

His heart.

"Be good, alright?"

"Mh..."

Tang Bo ruffled her hair one last time before getting up and walking to the door with heavy feet. He cast one last look at his sleeping wife and daughter before closing the door behind him.

The sight of their peaceful faces would have to sustain him until he returned.

As he made his way toward the council meeting room, unease pressed at the back of his mind. He hoped it wouldn’t be another long, dragged-out meeting.

***

Chung Myung woke up a few hours later.

He stretched lazily, muscles unwinding against the soft bed beneath him. His eyes fluttered open as a yawn slipped past his lips.

With Tang Bo busy, Chung Myung knew he should do something productive, but right now, he just wanted to relax and enjoy the distant chirping insects and rustling trees. He rolled onto his side, his gaze settling on Tang Myung-Ya, still sound asleep beside him.

He smiled, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest. A strand of hair had fallen across her face, and he reached out to tuck it behind her ear. She stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent, but didn’t wake.

Chung Myung chuckled softly to himself, remembering all the times he had woken up to find Tang Myung-Ya curled up over him. She had always been an affectionate sleeper, seeking out physical closeness while asleep even as she grew older.

Tang Bo would argue she got it from Chung Myung.

"Meat?" Tang Myung-Ya’s nose twitched, and she blinked her eyes open as the smell of food wafted through the room.

Right on cue, a knock came at the door.

"Lord Sword Saint, we've brought your meal."

“Enter,” Chung Myung called, gathering his hair with one hand and pulling it into a loose ponytail that spilled over his shoulder.

A servant stepped inside, carefully balancing a tray piled high with steaming dishes. The rich aroma of roasted chicken, vegetables, and spiced rice filled the room, making his stomach growl with anticipation.

He eyed the tray. More than enough for two.

“Thank you,” Chung Myung said, offering a small smile.

“Of course, my lord,” the servant replied with a bow before retreating from the room.

“Chicken?” Tang Myung-Ya sat up and scrambled across the bed toward him, her eyes wide and sparkling with hunger.

Chung Myung nodded, a soft smile gracing his lips as he watched Tang Myung-Ya dig into her meal with gusto. He reached for a piece of chicken, tearing into it with his teeth.

After three or four pieces, his appetite waned. He frowned at the plate. He felt full already—but he knew that for the sake of the baby, he needed more. So he forced the rest down, chewing and swallowing past the tightening knot in his throat.

When lunch was done, he felt a little lighter. A little more awake. He decided to take a walk in the garden, hoping to stretch his legs and shake off the heaviness clinging to his limbs.

The crisp air greeted him gently, scented with blooming flowers and fresh grass. His steps carried him toward the pond, where he settled on the grassy bank. He slipped his feet into the cool water, watching the ripples dance around his ankles. The sun shone warmly overhead, wrapping him in golden heat.

Chung Myung closed his eyes and sighed, letting himself sink into the sounds around him—the soft chirping of birds and the passing breeze.

"Hyung-nim?"

His eyes blinked open, and suddenly, the warm day he remembers was darkened, painted in red and orange hues.

It was sunset.

Did he fall asleep again?

A grim feeling churned in his stomach at the thought of having wasted another day without proper exercise.

Tang Bo stood over him, his expression tight with concern. He didn’t even try to hide it.

A hand reached for his forehead.

“Are you feeling well?”

“I feel fine,” Chung Myung muttered, swatting the hand away. "Just a bit tired, that's all."

"Tired is not fine," Tang Bo muttered, his hand reaching out stubbornly to brush against Chung Myung's cheek.

Chung Myung leaned into the touch despite himself, feeling a sense of comfort and warmth.

“Are you sure? No pain?”

“No. Just sleepy.”

"Do you want me to carry you back?"

"I'm not at that stage yet," Chung Myung scoffed, shaking his head away. "How did your meeting go?"

Tang Bo growled.

***

"Dark Saint, you are quite late."

The elders, insufferable as ever, didn’t even wait for him to sit before spitting their usual complaints.

Tang Bo didn’t spare them a glance. He merely walked to his seat, spine straight and eyes forward, the click of his boots echoing louder than their whines. The elders stiffened at the insult implied in his silence.

“I greet the Patriarch,” Tang Bo said, bowing only to the old man seated at the center. The only one here he respected. Mostly because the man paid his monthly allowance.

The Patriarch, a weathered figure whose eyes held both exhaustion and patience, gave him a nod. 

“You arrived just in time,” the Patriarch said. “We were discussing the disruption of our Guizhou trade route. Bandits again.”

Tang Bo folded his arms, half-listening. Just the usual squabble. Good opportunity for the juniors to gain merit, at least. He was already picturing his daughter in the field—perhaps he could hire an artist to immortalize her first bandit kill—

“I heard the daughter of the Twin Saints has learned Tang techniques.”

Tang Bo snapped out of his thoughts. Why did the conversation suddenly center around his daughter? And what kind of nonsense are they spewing?

“…What?” His voice echoed cold and sharp. Even the flames in the lamps seemed to flicker.

An elder, grey-bearded and pale, cleared his throat but took a step back. 

“My protégé—my son—lost a duel to her. He says she used techniques not befitting an outsider.”

Tang Bo blinked once. A Tang clan member accusing someone else of using hidden techniques? The hypocrisy nearly gave him an aneurysm.

“Your dull-witted son probably fainted after one kick,” he said coldly. “What hidden technique? A leg? A fist?”

His hands twitched. If looks could kill, the council chamber would already be a graveyard. The Patriarch had to subtly step between him and the elder to prevent bloodshed.

“Tsk,” Tang Bo clicked his tongue. “From what I heard, a group of milk suckers tried to corner my daughter, who isn't even half their age. And you dare call that a duel? We might as well call a pack of dogs chasing a kitten a ‘friendly spar.’”

Several elders looked away, as if they had an ounce of shame on their wrinkled faces.

Tang Bo took note of each one.

“They were merely—” The elder began again, then hesitated. “Ahem, harmless poison was used. And yet your daughter was the only one left standing. How do you explain that?”

"Are you retarded?"

"Tang Bo!" The Patriarch tried to calm the Dark Saint, but it had no effect. In fact, it was a miracle that Tang Bo hadn't attacked yet.

“My daughter has the Sword Saint’s blood. She’s naturally stronger. And unlike your mollycoddled disciples, she trains daily and has been gradually exposed to toxins to build resistance—”

“—So you admit it! You’ve been teaching her Tang clan techniques!”

"What techniques? Eating poison? " Tang Bo laughed, genuinely baffled. “So if a random farmer eats bad berries and survives, is he a Tang too? Should we start recruiting livestock next?”

 “You mock us—!”

“I’m not mocking. I’m trying to make sense of the idiocy spewing from your mouth. Which, I assure you, is no small task.”

"Y-you!"

"Are you sure you are an elder? You seem dumber than a newborn from a peasant family! If that's a Tang technique, then are the Sapa specialized in poison also Tangs? The Black Forest alchemists? The beggar who ate ivy by mistake?”

"T-that—"

"Are the random people chewing on baneberries also Tangs? Do you even think before you speak?"

The Patriarch rubbed his forehead. “The Dark Saint is correct. Poison resistance, while aligned with our clan’s tradition, is not a proprietary technique.”

The elder's eyes darted around, looking for help, but it seemed he was abandoned. A sense of betrayal ran up his gut. But the elder—flushed with humiliation and stubborn pride—refused to yield.

"She must have surely used our techniques! Does it make sense that a child younger than ten could overcome poison that kids older than fifty and trained since birth could not?"

Tang Bo's hands shook from the amount of stupidity one called an elder could babble. Even if he taught Tang Myung-Ya hidden dagger techniques, they weren't owned by the clan either, since most were created by himself.

Then another elder coughed. “Why not… hold a contest? To verify her capabilities in the open. A fair assessment.”

Tang Bo turned his head, slow and deliberate. The look he gave could strip flesh from bone.

The Patriarch exhaled, already weary. “What does the council think?”

Murmurs followed. Self-serving, smug murmurs.

“Yes, a contest would be fair.”

“We’ll settle this without further assumptions.”

“Let’s see what the girl is truly capable of.”

They were confident. Smug. Convinced that Tang Bo’s child would fail—and that it would humble the Dark Saint.

Tang Bo slowly rose to his feet, voice cold enough to freeze the marrow in their bones.

“Fine.” He looked at each of them in turn. "On the condition that the council is to never get involved in matters concerning my family ever again. Even if I do decide to teach her Tang techniques."

No objections. Just nods, full of arrogant certainty.

Good.

Their silence would be deafening when they saw the results.

Tang Bo turned on his heel, storming out, coat sweeping behind him like a stormcloud.

The Patriarch watched him go, noting one important detail.

'He hadn’t drawn a single blade.'

It was a silent promise that he's going to do more than just a cut or poisoned water.

The Patriarch silently pleaded to the Primordial Lord that his sleep hours wouldn't be cut again because of this stupid mess. One day, he hopes the council will get disbanded or at least have actual competent elders, not kids who envy others.

***

Chung Myung growled.

"Should I just go and chop those heads off?"

"If you want to, you're more than welcome." Tang Bo shrugged. "But do it after proper rest, okay?"

"I've done nothing but rest," Chung Myung grumbled, though he didn’t resist when Tang Bo tugged him toward their room for another checkup.

He sat on the edge of the bed with a resigned sigh, letting Tang Bo pull up his sleeve and take his wrist. The room was still. Only the soft brush of fingers against skin and the occasional creak of wood disturbed the silence.

Tang Bo’s brow furrowed.

"Your meridians are still reacting like you’ve been overexerting your dantian, even though you’ve barely done anything."

A new poison, perhaps? But it was hard to believe that he, the Dark Saint, could not detect it, nor that the Sword Saint couldn't just purify it.

“I swear,” Tang Bo muttered, dark eyes flashing, “if this is connected to those council bastards, I won’t even wait for a trial. I’ll burn the whole damn chamber down myself.”

"I thought it was my turn?" Chung Myung chuckled.

Tang Bo finally let go of his wrist and smirked.

"We could just do it together. Call it a date?"

"Sounds fun."

They shared a moment of quiet laughter. But it didn’t last. 

Chung Myung’s smile was the first to fade.

"Do we really… put Ah-Ya in a stupid competition?"

"If you or Ah-Ya are against it, I don't mind calling quits. Even if I'm going to be branded as a traitor."

Chung Myung sighed tiredly. He had no doubts that Tang Myung-Ya would win it. That wasn’t what troubled him.  It was the thought of putting her in unnecessary danger that made him uneasy.

"The only good thing is that they won't be able to do anything to us ever again, unless they want to risk imprisonment, expulsion, or even execution."

"Let's talk about it with Ah-Ya first," Chung Myung nodded. He needed to know how their daughter felt about the situation. He wanted to make sure that she was comfortable with whatever decision they made.

Tang Bo hummed in agreement, understanding Chung Myung’s concerns. He shared the same worries and was determined to ensure their daughter's well-being above all else.

"We'll keep her safety our top priority," Tang Bo assured, his voice firm and resolute. "No matter what happens, she comes first."

He leaned in, pressing his forehead against Chung Myung's.

"Now rest. I need to go through the records again."

But neither of them moved. They lingered in the shared stillness, forehead to forehead, until—The door slid open.

A tiny whirlwind barreled into the room, launching herself onto the bed and clinging to Chung Myung like a limpet.

"Papa! Did you know that frogs can take their skin off?"

"That's called shedding," Tang Bo explained as he pulled away. "Reptiles and amphibians do it to grow and stay healthy."

Tang Myung-Ya blinked wide-eyed.

"Will I have to shed my skin, too?"

Chung Myung snorted, pulling her into his lap and began untying her hair.

"Only if you turn into a frog."

"I don't want to be a frog!"

"Then you better go to bed when you’re supposed to."

"But what about Dad? He's always awake at night. Was he ever a frog?"

Chung Myung looked up at Tang Bo and studied him for a long, thoughtful moment before returning his gaze to Tang Myung-Ya.

"Yep."

"Ah—" Tang Bo couldn't even rebut his words. There was a time when he believed he was atop the world.

"And how did he turn back into a human?"  Tang Myung-Ya asked, completely enthralled.

Tang Bo, ever quick to adapt, leaned into the game with a sly grin.

"I kissed a princess." Tang Bo winked, and Chung Myung huffed.

"I heard a story like that from Miss Shumin!"

As Tang Myung-Ya prattled on, Chung Myung worked her into her night robes. The story morphed from frogs to rabbits to some baffling mention of a duck wearing boots. Neither parent could quite follow the trajectory, but they nodded along dutifully until her voice slowed and her eyes fluttered shut.

“Don’t stay up all night again.” Chung Myung nagged Tang Bo before pulling a blanket over his daughter and himself.

"Sleep well." Tang Bo watched him for a long moment, gaze tracing every breath, every twitch of discomfort. Then he turned, went to his desk, and lit another candle.

***

By morning, the air was quieter.

Tang Bo sat cross-legged on the floor, paper scattered like fallen leaves around him—some stacked neatly, others ripped into crumpled shreds. Ink stained his fingers, his jaw clenched tight, his brow deeply furrowed.

"It just doesn’t make sense…" he muttered, shredding another page and tossing it aside.

Behind him, soft footsteps padded over wood. Barefoot. Drowsy. A warm, familiar weight leaned over his head as a hand, lazy and unceremonious, rested on atop his head like it was a table.

“You’re still at it?” Chung Myung’s voice rasped with sleep, thick as morning fog.

Tang Bo didn’t respond right away. His eyes were scanning another page, shoulders tight and unmoving. Hours had passed like this—hunched over scrolls, fingers smudged with ink, the candlelight long since replaced by the pale grey of dawn.

Finally, he spoke, low and uncertain.

"Your qi’s unbalanced... but you’re not poisoned, sick, or cursed." He rubbed at his brow, frustration lining his features. "I’ve checked everything. Nothing adds up."

Chung Myung shrugged, unbothered, and poked his cheek.

"Maybe it’s just a phase. I’ve been through stranger things."

Tang Bo arched a brow, a ghost of a smile tugging at his mouth despite everything.

"Like what? The time you ate that entire jar of fermented plums that weren’t even close to being ready?"

"You were supposed to forget that,"  Chung Myung huffed, swatting at Tang Bo’s head playfully.

Tang Bo leaned back against Chung Myung’s legs, face tilted upward, eyes searching his husband’s expression for any clues.

"Could it be something you’ve done? Like a new technique or practice?"

Chung Myung takes a moment to consider before shaking his head.

"Nothing unusual. Just the usual training with Ah-Ya." He paused, then added with a smirk, "Though, she is getting better at dodging my kicks."

Tang Bo’s gaze softened slightly, pride mixing with his worry. But the crease between his brows lingered.

"I’ll keep monitoring for now."

"You’re worrying too much," Chung Myung murmured, running his fingers through Tang Bo’s hair, gently massaging his scalp to coax away the frown. "And I think you need more rest than me."

Tang Bo laughed quietly, weary but affectionate. He caught Chung Myung’s hand and pressed a kiss to the palm.

"I’ll be fine. I just want to find the reason for this imbalance before anything else happens." He sighed, looking down at the sea of papers. "I hate not understanding something."

Chung Myung hummed, reaching down to scratch the soft underside of Tang Bo’s chin as if petting a fox.

"You'll figure it out," He stood up, stretching. "I’m going for a morning run with Ah-Ya."

Tang Bo nodded, still surrounded by papers and theories. He watched Chung Myung’s back as he walked away, the familiar sway of his gait, the confidence in his steps, and he tried not to worry.

But the unease lingered in the pit of his stomach, stubborn and insistent. Tang Bo sighed again, pressing his fingers against his eyes until he saw stars behind his lids. Then, with a weary hand, he picked up another scroll.

***

It was more of a jog than a run, but Tang Myung-Ya didn't complain. After all, back on Mount Hua, she’d had to climb the mountain thrice before the sun was even halfway up the sky. This was practically a vacation.

She's also not ignorant of her parents' condition. Even if her parents smiled and laughed and ruffled her hair like always, even if they said it was nothing, she knew something was wrong.

Her thoughts were cut as she noticed a familiar figure ahead on the path.

"Uncle!" she beamed as she picked up speed. She launched herself forward without hesitation, flinging her arms around Chung Mun, who caught her with ease.

“Sahyung...? And Sajae, too?” Chung Myung blinked, confused by the unexpected visit as he jogged to a stop. “What are you two doing here?”

The answer came not with words, but a shared look between the two martial brothers, and then a swift advance.

"W-what?"

"We heard you do not eat much these days," Chung Mun said gravely, still holding Tang Myung-Ya, who now sat quietly in his arms, blinking at the unfolding drama.

"I just wasn’t hungry—"

An overdramatic gasp pierced the air.

"Are you dying?!" Chung Jin blurted, already grabbing Chung Myung’s wrist like a panicked aunt at a family reunion.

Chung Mun hovered anxiously nearby, glancing between his younger brother and Tang Myung-Ya, torn between panic and the need to not jostle the child in his arms.

“His pulse is unsteady!” Chung Jin cried, pale as rice paper. “Is it poisoning? Did someone curse you? Is your dantian cracking? Have you been possessed?!”

Chung Myung’s eye twitched. Without a word, his palm came up and smacked Chung Jin squarely on the head.

“Ow… okay, he’s not possessed.”

Tang Myung-Ya snorted, her giggles bubbling up with unrestrained delight. Chung Mun finally cracked a smile, the tension in his shoulders melting. He set her down gently, then clapped Chung Myung on the shoulder with a look equal parts warmth and exasperation.

“You goby! You couldn’t even send a letter?”  he said, shaking his head. “If Tang Bo hadn’t mentioned it in his reply, we wouldn’t have known at all.”

“…You guys write letters to each other?” Chung Myung shook his head. It was probably something Chung Mun requested to begin with, so he shook it off.

"I'm fine," Chung Myung insisted. "Tang Bo is just overreacting."

Chung Mun didn’t look convinced. His eyes swept over Chung Myung—skin a shade too pale, dark crescents under his eyes. It was subtle. Too subtle for most, but not for someone who’d practically raised him.

But instead of pressing, Chung Mun shifted the conversation with a grin.

“And Ah-Ya? How’s my little troublemaker?”

"I caught three ducks yesterday!" Tang Myung-Ya puffed up her chest proudly.

“…Why are you catching ducks?” Chung Mun asked, gaze sliding slowly toward Chung Myung.

“Training,” Chung Myung said with a straight face. “And they make a good dinner.”

"Are the Tangs not feeding you?" Chung Jin chimed back in, looking very much like he was ready to go to war with the entire Tang Clan on the spot.

The marriage between the Saints should have brought the benefit of an alliance, so why does it look like they're more at war than ever? Even a toddler would be more subtle!

Tang Myung-Ya raised her hands and started counting on her fingers.

“I ate two bowls of rice, a plate of dumplings, and a whole pot of duck soup last night.” She puffed out her cheeks dramatically, rubbing her belly in fond remembrance of the savory feast. Then her stomach let out a small growl.

"I suppose you didn't have breakfast yet," Chung Mun said. "We brought some fruits too." He patted his bag, and Tang Myung-Ya's eyes lit up.

“I want wineberries! Did you bring wineberries?” She bounced back onto his arms like an excited squirrel.

“Of course.” He smiled warmly, ruffling her hair. “Your favorite.”

She wriggled back down from his hold and latched onto his sleeve, tugging eagerly.

“Let’s go, let’s go! I want to eat some before the spar!”

Chung Myung raised an eyebrow.

"Who's sparring?"

“Me and Uncle Jin!" Tang Myung-Ya grinned. "I’m gonna get my first victory today!"

"You have yet to land a hit on me, little rascal!" Chung Jin snorted. "Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

While he wasn't the second strongest among their generation, Chung Jin was still fast and quite steady on his feet. It was a harsh training that consisted of his Sahyung abusing him throught the years—Ah, no, that was just bullying.

Nonetheless! Chung Jin took pride in his footwork and techniques. He was also particularly excited to show off in front of their first Myung junior.

“Hmph!” Tang Myung-Ya planted her hands on her hips, mimicking the expression of Tang Bo being stubbornly set on something. “You just wait. I’m going to land a kick today!”

"You wish, brat!" Chung Jin teased her, and Chung Myung tilted his head slightly. 

His Sajae seemed oddly happy about it, and Chung Myung felt like he was the one getting teased for some reason. But it wasn’t the first time that Chung Jin had been a weirdo, so he let it be.

***

To Chung Mun, the situation was looking even more serious. 

One bowl of rice and barely any meat? That wasn’t nearly enough to fill his Sajae’s bottomless pit of a stomach. This wasn’t stress—Chung Myung wasn't the type to eat less because of emotions. If anything, he'd eat more just to spite whatever thought he had.

Which meant something really was wrong.

Maybe parasites? He grimaced. He should’ve dragged along their Medical Hall Head. Then again, they're not better than the Tangs. Still, maybe a second opinion could help.

Tang Bo’s letter hinted that the issue was likely related to the pregnancy and a disturbance in Chung Myung’s inner qi. Maybe it was age. Chung Myung was well over fifty, and his body was never meant to carry children. But Chung Mun was sure Tang Bo had already considered that possibility.

Chung Myung had dozed off at some point, his head slumping onto Chung Mun’s shoulder. With a quiet sigh, Chung Mun adjusted his position slightly and let him rest, eyes drifting to the sparring match in front of them.

Chung Jin was still relentlessly teasing Tang Myung-Ya. It looked suspiciously like pent-up sentiments left from the time Chung Myung used to bully Chung Jin.

Tang Bo joined them not long after, looking drawn and exhausted. Despite the bad feelings Chung Mun had for his Sajae's stealer, he couldn't help but scold the younger man as well. There's no need for two patients, and he of all, should know better.

In the distance, Tang Myung-Ya stomped her feet and pointed an accusing finger. “Cheater!” she cried, face red with indignation. Another tantrum. Chung Jin must’ve dodged every strike again.

For the moment, things were quiet.

And Chung Mun hoped it wasn't the silence before the storm.

Chapter Text

"It doesn’t look like any Qi is leaking," Chung Mun concluded, drawing his hands away from Chung Myung’s back.

Chung Myung rolled his eyes, tugging his robe back into place for what felt like the hundredth time. 

"I told you there’s nothing wrong."

"You goby-brained brat!" Chung Mun snapped, yanking on his ear. "You think Qi vanishing into thin air is nothing?"

"Ow—"

Across the room, Chung Jin was flipping through their notes, searching for a reasonable explanation, but nothing made sense.

"Could he be carrying twins?" he suggested.

"Then he’d be hungrier to make up for it, not just tired," Tang Bo replied, eyes fixed on the notebook as though the answer would eventually appear. "Besides, I haven’t felt multiple presences."

"Maybe it’s too early to tell?"

"I’ll check again in a few weeks, just to be sure," Tang Bo shook his head, rubbing at his tired eyes. "But for now, I’m not convinced."

"Recently developed allergies?"

"Doesn't seem so."

Chung Mun stepped behind Tang Bo, leaning over his shoulder to skim through the notes. "I agree there’s something off with his Qi circulation," he said thoughtfully. "It doesn’t flow evenly, but thankfully, the dantian in his lower abdomen seems stable. Actually, it may be holding more than usual."

"You’re not sure?" Tang Bo lifted an eyebrow, skeptical. If anyone should understand Hwasan cultivation, it was the sect leader, the martial hall master… or Chung Myung himself.

Chung Mun shrugged lightly. "Myung-ah’s always had more Qi than most. This could be normal for him, or perhaps even less than what’s normal for him."

Chung Myung pouted and turned away from his debating mothers, looking toward the window. They’d already concluded that the baby wasn’t in danger, and honestly, that was all he cared about. He wasn’t too worried about the rest. Perhaps just a pregnancy cycle. Pregnant women tend to get tired and lose their appetite, too!

Behind him, the discussion continued. Tang Bo, Chung Jin, and Chung Mun all hovered over notes and Qi diagrams. He could still hear them speaking, but the words blurred into something warm and soft, like a lullaby he wasn’t meant to understand. 

Dimly, cutting through the haze of fatigue, he could hear the rhythmic clang of metal striking metal. His lips curled into a faint smile. That was the sound of Tang Myung-Ya training. He could tell by the cadence alone, the way the strikes landed just a fraction sharper than the day before.

She was improving. Fast.

Pride bloomed quietly in his chest. One day, they might even spar like equals.

A gentle pressure touched his shoulder, grounding him. He blinked up into Tang Bo’s face. Concern clouded the younger man's features as their eyes met. Chung Myung gave him a slight nod, letting him know he was fine. Just tired.

"Why don’t you try meditating?" Chung Mun suggested.

"Alright," Chung Myung murmured with a sigh, stretching his arms overhead, feeling the satisfying pop of his joints. He stood up with a yawn as he moved to the bed.

Tang Bo hovered nearby, ready to catch him if he stumbled. It was both sweet and infuriating.

Chung Myung closed his eyes and let his breath slow. He focused inward, trying to feel the flow of his Qi. It was lower than usual, but he couldn't feel anything abnormal except the faint glow of a presence. A gentle warmth that seemed to be growing stronger with each passing moment. 

It wasn’t intrusive, just there, a comforting weight in the depths of his core. It wasn't the first time, but it felt just as strange… to feel something so foreign yet so intimately close. A quiet heartbeat that wasn’t his own. Something he must protect.

A heavy wave of drowsiness crashed over him like a turbulent wave. He blinked his eyes open before he slipped under entirely, only to find three sets of eyes watching him closely. It was kind of uncomfortable.

"…Well," he said dryly. "The baby is fine."

Three unimpressed eyebrows rose in unison.

"And you?" Chung Jin asked, cutting to the point.

"Tired as usual?" Chung Myung's answer did nothing to change their expressions, so he just threw his hands in the air. "My Qi is fine, I’ve checked it a dozen times!"

Chung Mun and Chung Jin shared a look, one of those looks that made Chung Myung feel like they were talking behind his back. 

Chung Myung sighed in frustration and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand, more tired of the hovering than the fatigue itself. Tang Bo opened his mouth to speak, but Chung Myung shot him a glare.

"Don’t. Don’t tell me to rest. I’m sick of hearing that."

Tang Bo clamped his mouth shut immediately. He knew better than to argue when his lover was like this, but it didn’t ease the knot of worry in his chest. No matter how much Chung Myung insisted he was fine, Tang Bo couldn’t stop thinking about both of them—his husband and the child.

"I still think you should try Qi circulation exercises," Chung Mun suggested gently, trying to shift the conversation back on course.

Chung Myung turned away in a huff, like a child getting scolded and given extra chores.

Chung Mun let out a quiet sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "We’ll leave tomorrow after the early meal—"

"Sahyung—" Chung Jin started, clearly not ready to leave things as they were.

But Chung Mun held up a hand. "We’ve got responsibilities at the sect, too. And if we keep hovering, it’s only going to make him more stubborn."

Chung Myung blinked, turning his head back in surprise. He’d expected more nagging, not… understanding.

"But," Chung Mun added, "if you ever miss us or need anything at all, just send a letter. We’ll be here in a heartbeat. Alright?"

Chung Myung looked down and rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah… okay," he muttered, suddenly feeling shy.

"Now go rest."

"Oh, come on—"

***

"Pft—" Tang Myung-Ya covered her mouth, but a few giggles still slipped through. It was hilarious to watch one of her parents get the same 'nap treatment' she usually got, if not worse.

"Is this amusing to you?" Chung Myung answered with a strange tone.

"Ack—! No!" Tang Myung-Ya squealed as her father swiftly grabbed her and yanked her onto the bed, pulling the blanket over them both and effectively imprisoning her. The giggling girl was now kept hostage, her little hands flailing, trying to find an opening to escape.

"Let me go!" She kicked and shouted, her small voice echoing with laughter. "Uncle Mun, help—" she tried to call out, but the blanket swallowed her protest, muffling her cries. 

"You can't get out, brat."

Tang Myung-Ya’s fists pushed against Chung Myung's chest in mock defiance, her small body squirming as she tried to wriggle free out of her father's arms. Despite her flailing, the steady heartbeat of her father was a reassuring presence.

"Bullying! Abuse!" she cried, trying to sound as pitiful as possible.

Chung Myung snorted, his breath ruffling her hair. 

"You're not the first brat to be bullied by me." 

She huffed in mock defeat, going limp in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder with exaggerated resignation.

Chung Myung chuckled, relaxing his grip. "See? You just need to—"

He didn’t get to finish. The moment his hold loosened, she made a break for it. With a quick flicker, Chung Myung used his Qi to keep her held tight and dragged her back under the cover.

"Ah—!" she gasped, flailing all over again, but with a quick movement, Chung Myung managed to pin her down. 

Her eyes widened in surprise as she found herself trapped beneath him. Her little body squirmed, but Chung Myung held her in place, his strong grip keeping her from escaping.

"Give up?" he teased, grinning down at her.

Tang Myung-Ya blinked up at him, her cheeks flushed red and her hair a wild mess from the scuffle. She kicked at him with what little leverage she had, but he caught her leg mid-air and held it still with ease.

"You're cheating!" She yelled with her breath coming in short bursts.

"It’s not cheating if I’m winning."

"Shameless! Shameless! I can't believe you used Qi on a child!"

"Shhh. Nap time," Chung Myung murmured, pulling her closer and tucking her head into the warm crook of his neck. 

He braced for another escape attempt, but it didn’t come. A few huffy breaths later, her squirming slowed, and her breathing grew deep and even. Her small body softened in his arms as sleep claimed her.

Chung Myung didn’t relax completely, just in case, but when he felt the full weight of her settle into him, his shoulders finally dropped. His hand moved gently through her hair, slow and soothing.

She was always so full of life—running around, climbing things she shouldn’t, asking too many questions, always too quick to spar and too slow to rest. And yet here she was, nestled safely against him, perfectly still.

"Love you, brat," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead before pulling the blanket off their heads.

"Mmmm," she mumbled, brow furrowing as she snuggled back under the cover.

Chung Myung chuckled quietly, adjusting her position to make sure she was comfortable, then closed his own eyes. Her soft breaths tickled against his collarbone, the rhythm steady and grounding. It eased something in him—something tight and unspoken.

Chung Myung chuckled quietly, adjusting his hold to make sure she was comfortable, then closed his eyes. He could feel her weight on his chest, her gentle breathing lowered to a soothing snore that eased his own tension.

He was so focused on the little bundle of human in his arms that he didn’t even notice the three men quietly standing at the door, watching with soft smiles.

"Let’s leave them be," Chung Mun whispered, gesturing for the others to follow him out.

They slipped away, the door clicking shut behind them with barely a sound. Outside, Chung Mun turned to Tang Bo, a look of concern still evident in his eyes.

"How long has he been like this?"

Tang Bo thought back over and explained all he had observed until now.

"It’s… concerning," Tang Bo ended his ramble. "And worse… he’s a stubborn, awful patient."

"He’s always been like that," Chung Mun sighed knowingly

Chung Jin spoke up, voice firm with quiet resolve. 

"I’ll stay. Help Tang Bo take care of him. Make sure he rests and eats properly."

But Chung Mun shook his head.

"You need to come back to the sect with me. There’s a lot of work to be done, and you’re needed there. Tang Bo can handle things here."

Chung Jin looked like he wanted to protest, but Chung Mun continued talking.

"And Myung-ah would kick you out the second you tried to hover over him like a mother hen."

Tang Bo nodded in agreement.

"He’s a prideful man, your Sahyung. Stubborn as a mule. But he’s strong. Stronger than anyone I’ve ever known. He’ll be okay," he added, though more to himself than the others.

Chung Mun patted Chung Jin on the shoulder.

"He’ll bounce back before you know it. And when he does, he will be back to his usual, annoying self. Drinking and beating up anyone he deems a nuisance."

"I don't think I miss that part…"

The three men shared a quiet laugh. But beneath their calm expressions was a shared unease none of them could voice. Chung Myung had always been a force of nature—untouchable, unshakable, maddeningly confident. Blessed with both strength and beauty above all. A man too resilient for his own good.

So the worry lingered.

***

Chung Jin and Chung Mun departed the next morning, leaving Tang Bo and Chung Myung to finally sit down with Tang Myung-Ya and go over the details of the upcoming contest.

To their surprise, she was practically buzzing with excitement.

"Any questions?" Tang Bo asked.

Tang Myung-Ya’s eyes lit up.

"Can I beat them up?"

Chung Myung grinned, clearly proud. "Atta girl."

"No—" Tang Bo cut in before the madness spread. "Not yet. It’s a resistance competition, not a brawl."

"Oh."

"Any other questions?"

"Why can't I beat them up?"

Tang Bo sighed, scratching his head as he was haunted by memories of his own rowdy youth.

"Just let her beat them up," Chung Myung said with a shrug.

"It’s not the time for that…yet," Tang Bo muttered, now under verbal assault from both sides. Not that he could claim he didn’t want the same thing. Deep down, the idea was tempting.

Tang Myung-Ya leaned closer to Chung Myung, cupping her hand over her mouth like a secret conspirator.

"He’s going to say you’re a bad influence."

"Probably, brat."

"I still wanna beat them up."

"Me too, brat."

Tang Bo heard every word, of course, but decided not to comment.

***

A few days later, the competition was finally here. Tang Bo had already gone ahead, making sure no one was pulling tricks or tampering with the pills.

Chung Myung walked beside Tang Myung-Ya, strolling leisurely toward the competition grounds. Just before the entrance, he stopped and crouched down to her level.

"Give me your hand."

Tang Myung-Ya blinked confused, but extended her hand without hesitation.

"Breathe in and out with me," Chung Myung instructed, clasping her hand gently as he infused some of his purest Qi into her body.

He gave her a sly grin, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Those Tang bastards will probably have a few tricks up their sleeves, but…" He winked. "This is how to properly cheat."

Because their cultivation methods were identical, it was impossible for the Tangs to tell their Qi apart. Even some of the Mount Hua elders would struggle to differentiate.

Tang Myung-Ya caught the meaning immediately and raised a finger in a playful hush, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips.

"If it ever gets too much, just signal me, alright?" Chung Myung pressed his forehead to hers. "I’ll be by your side faster than the wind."

"Alright, Papa. I’ll win. Don’t worry," she said, shrugging him off with confidence before striding inside.

Chung Myung watched her go, pride swelling in his chest as he stood and followed.

Chapter Text

The room was circular, its walls carved from polished dark stone that shimmered faintly beneath the ethereal glow of phosphorescent pearls suspended high above. Sunken deep into the earth to shield it from external disturbances.

The chamber's entrance was marked by twin jade serpents coiled around blackened wooden pillars. Round stone windows ringed the upper walls, allowing a subtle flow of air for ventilation.

Crossing the threshold, the air thickened, balanced perfectly between humid and dry, laced with the lingering scent of crushed herbs and powdered minerals. Wisps of colored vapor drifted across the stone floor, hissing softly when touched, a warning that old poisons still slumbered in the stones.

At the heart of the chamber stood a higher, hexagonal platform where completed elixirs or poisons were presented for scrutiny. Atop it rested a wooden table, its surface blackened and scarred by years of experiments and failures. Beside it sat the judges and the family head, draped in gauze and masked in expressionless jade, unmoved by displays of pride or fear.

Encircling the platform were numerous sturdy wooden workbenches, each carved with a shallow basin for containing spills and fitted with countless small compartments for ingredients. Suspended above every station, brass arms held heat-resistant crucibles and glass vessels, adjustable with precise care.

The Tang Family truly spared no expense in constructing this hall. Likely, a proving ground where children were first introduced to the art of poison and taught how to respect, wield, and one day, master it.

Tang Bo sat among the judges, making sure no tricks were being pulled. Although his expression was unreadable, there was an unmistakable aura of an old monster surrounding him. Chung Myung would never say it out loud, but even he had to admit: it made Tang Bo look cool. Attractive, even.

Not that anything could compare to how beautiful Tang Bo looked when he smiled, the way he did only for him and their daughter.

Still, not as alluring as the Sword Saint himself.

Tang Bo's sharp gaze softened just briefly when he caught sight of Chung Myung arriving with Tang Myung-Ya at the contestant's area.

"Ready, brat?" Chung Myung whispered into the girl's ear. She nodded with quiet confidence, and he stepped back, watching as she made her way to her assigned station.

There were a lot of eyes on her, more than he liked. A flicker of killing intent rippled from Chung Myung without warning, making several people flinch and glance away.

Tang Myung-Ya took her place, unfazed by the coldness radiating from her fathers. She knew it was never targeted at her, but for her sake. A wall of ice against anyone who dared lay ill intent toward her.

She wished she looked just as intimidating. Unfortunately, her small frame was nearly swallowed by the height of the workbench, leaving only the top of her head visible at first glance.

Thankfully, there were ladders for the younger contestants. She wasn't the only one who needed one, but it sure felt like it.

Poison-making wasn't exactly her strong suit. She preferred to slice problems apart with her sword, not poisons. But when it came to holding toxins, resisting their effects, enduring what others couldn't? No brat here could match her. 

And this was, after all, a poison resistance contest.

The rules were simple: each contestant would be given a tray with five poison pills and a corresponding antidote for each. They had to consume the pills in order, one at a time, waiting for the judges' signal before taking the antidote.

Throughout the process, the participants would be closely observed, scored based on the severity of their symptoms, and their ability to endure. Fainting or taking the antidote too soon meant immediate disqualification.

Medical elders stood nearby, their eyes sharp, ready to intervene should any danger escalate beyond tolerance. With each pill, the poison effects would also grow stronger.

In the end, the winner would be either the one with the fewest points… or the last one still standing.

A tray was placed in front of each contestant, and Tang Myung-Ya leaned forward slightly, eyes scanning the five pills. Small. Round. Deceptively ordinary. She knew better than to trust appearances, as each of these could drop a full-grown man if not handled with precision.

Her gaze flicked sideways, assessing the competition. Tang Jo Pyung was nowhere to be seen, as expected. His branch of the family worked in the blacksmith domain. Although they were taught the basics of poison handling, as everyone in the Tang Clan was, the children here today were bred for toxin and tincture mastery.

She could hear the other contestants whispering nervously among themselves, some of them trying to exchange information about the poison types, others just trying to calm themselves, hands trembling ever so slightly as they studied their tray.

Tang Myung-Ya closed her eyes and breathed in.

Focused.

She didn't need to guess.

She just needed to endure.

A deep gong echoed through the hall, followed by a commanding voice:

"Begin."

Tang Myung-Ya opened her eyes. Steady hands reached for the first pill. It was red, with a smooth, glossy surface that reflected the light almost too perfectly, like it was made of glass.

The girl could feel the eyes of the other contestants on her, heavy with curiosity and suspicion. But she ignored them and popped the pill into her mouth. It melted instantly, coating her tongue in a sickly sweetness chased by a faint metallic taste. Swallowing it down, she braced herself.

For a moment, she felt nothing. Then, a wave of dizziness washed over her, making her head spin. But Tang Myung-Ya clenched her jaw and focused on her breathing—inhale, exhale.

Around her, some contestants were already trembling, pale with nausea, or clutching their stomachs.

The masked judges watched from their platform, murmuring as they scribbled notes. Cold, impassive, calculating. Tang Myung-Ya could feel them watching her every twitch, waiting for a sign of weakness.

She didn't give them one.

The seconds ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. Finally, the gong sounded again, signaling the end of the round.

Most contestants snatched up their antidotes, drinking them down with visible relief. But a few didn't. They held still, unmoved, whether from confidence… or calculation.

Tang Myung-Ya blinked, noting the few who had left their antidotes untouched. Her fingers hovered above her own vial, then paused. A tactic? A bluff? Or extra points for endurance?

Her gaze flicked to her parents. Tang Bo sat unbothered while Chung Myung had a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. Too proud, too smug.

So. That's how it is.

Tang Myung-Ya withdrew her hand from the antidote and let it rest beside the tray.

She didn't need it. Not yet. Maybe not at all.

The next pill was yellow and bumpy, its surface like weathered stone. It dissolved on her tongue like fine sand, coating her mouth with a gritty film that made her teeth itch.

The symptoms came faster this time. A coldness spread through her veins, starting at her fingertips and toes, creeping towards her core. Her vision blurred at the edges, colors bleeding together like fog in the rain.

Still, Tang Myung-Ya sat tall. Her breathing steady, though a faint tremor had started in her hands. The masked judges' voices were sharper now, more intense as they watched.

The gong sounded, and Tang Myung-Ya ignored her antidote once more.

The third pill was a deep, rich brown. It smelled like earth and damp leaves, and tasted bitter, like ash on her tongue.

This time, it hit her lungs first. Tang Myung-Ya felt her airway constrict, each breath turning into a wheezing gasp. Her chest tightened, pain radiating across her ribs as if someone was crushing her.

Sweat beaded on her brow, trailing down her neck as she fought for each breath, her lungs protesting with every gasp. Around her, chaos bloomed.

Contestants dropped like flies. Some collapsed, coughing and clawing at their throats, while others choked down antidotes hidden in their sleeves in panic. A few fainted outright.

Over half of them were disqualified by the end of that pill alone. Heck, Tang Myung-Ya could count the remaining ones on her fingers.

The leap in potency between each pill was staggering. But instead of fear, excitement pulsed through Tang Myung-Ya's veins. Her blood sang with it, and her eyes sharpened.

She focused inward, on the quiet hum of her father's qi within her, like a lantern flame pushing back the creeping cold. It grounded her, shielded her. Made her feel untouchable.

The gong rang.

She didn't even glance at the antidote.

Unconsciously, she licked her lips as she eyed the fourth pill. It was nearly black, with swirling blue veins visible beneath its surface. It tasted like smoke, and burned going down her throat.

She swallowed it like candy.

A stunned silence hung in the air, broken only by the sharp whisper of one of the judges.

"Is it possible her pills were switched?"

Tang Myung-Ya heard it, crystal clear.

"I can assure you," Tang Bo's voice rang out, cool and measured, "they are all the same."

"She's not even breaking a sweat. It's unnatural," another judge hissed, staring at her like she was something unholy.

"Then it is her merit," Tang Bo's sure voice rang out, making Tang Myung-Ya straighten up proudly.

"How can we believe that—"

"Didn't Elder Yin personally oversee the distribution?" the Tang Patriarch spoke, his voice sharp and final. "Are you suggesting Elder Yin is incompetent?"

All eyes turned to the elder in question. Elder Yin's face had darkened with barely concealed offense, his lips pressed into a thin, angry line. Even he, aligned with the conservative council, seemed deeply displeased by the insinuation.

The other judges quickly dropped their gaze, murmurs fading to nothing.

And yet, it was clear from the way his gaze lingered on Tang Myung-Ya that he hadn't helped the girl. Quite the opposite. His eyes simmered with a complex blend of anger and begrudging awe. He was furious that an outsider cousin, a girl not even fully of the main line, was outperforming their carefully groomed talents.

But her eyes…

That uncanny resemblance. 

That same delight and lack of fear as he she consumed poison.

An aura as sharp and wild, glimmering with an eerie thrill, as him .

The Dark Saint, in his youth.

He closed his eyes briefly, surrendering to the bitter recognition.

It was moments like this that made him wish he could take the child as a disciple. It was normal for a teacher to feel a burning desire to teach, to nourish such rare, unyielding talent. But how could he, when her father was the Dark Saint himself? When their family still clung so tightly to its prejudice against women?

He understood the rules. But that didn't lessen his desire. Truly, a pity.

When he opened his old eyes again, they locked on that little monster's face, and for a split second, it was as if he were staring back in time. Then, just as he was about to look away, a flicker of movement caught the edge of his vision.

His pupils narrowed in alarm. In an instant, he was on his feet, shouting.

"Don't!"

But it was already too late.

A sharp whoosh tore through the hall—then clang .

The dagger never reached its intended target.

Instead, it rebounded off a sword blade and embedded itself in the wall.

"You…"

Two waves of murderous intent erupted through the chamber like twin storms, the force so overwhelming it knocked the contestants unconscious where they sat. Several medical elders and judges collapsed to their knees under the sheer weight of it. Even the patriarch's hands trembled as he clutched the arms of his chair.

Tang Myung-Ya stood frozen behind her father's back, her breath caught in her throat. Chung Myung's hand trembled around the hilt of his sword, his body radiating barely restrained fury. His voice colder than the winds of the northern sea.

"You dare to harm my daughter?"

It wasn't a shout. It didn't need to be. The venom in his tone was enough to cut flesh. His dark eyes glowed faintly red, predator-like, as though the sword in his hand was the only thing keeping him from tearing the hall apart.

Tang Myung-Ya shivered, but not from fear. Somehow, despite the killing intent swirling like a storm, none of it touched her.

Tang Bo was no less terrifying. His gaze was fixed, unblinking, on the one who had dared raise a hand against his child. His expression was as calm as stone, but the fury boiling beneath was undeniable. One twitch, one false move, and blood would paint the floor.

"W-wait!"

"Patriarch," Tang Bo replied, calm lacing each word like a blade. "Do not stand in my way."

The patriarch's body shook, but he held firm. He would not see the Tang Clan torn apart over one elder's treachery. His decision may not be correct, but his heart was set on preserving the clan.

"Let the children leave first," he insisted, voice heavy with urgency.

Tang Bo didn't spare him a glance, but he nodded.

"Hyung-nim, take Ah-Ya away."

Chung Myung grumbled, his eyes burning with unspent fury, but with poison still coursing through his daughter's veins, he relented. Slowly, he withdrew his killing intent, finally granting the others a breath of relief. Without another word, he lifted Tang Myung-Ya into his arms and left the room.

"Take the children out," the patriarch ordered.

The medical elders moved swiftly, escorting the contestants outside for treatment and safety, their eyes downcast, unwilling to meet the gaze of the figures still standing in the room's center.

The judges were commanded to remain.

Tang Bo stood unmoving, eyes locked on the man before him. His face remained hidden behind a mask, but his body trembled like a leaf caught in a storm, shaken by the overwhelming force of Tang Bo's killing intent.

The patriarch turned to the offender, his voice was firm, authoritative, cutting through the tension like a knife.

"What you have done is inexcusable."

The man's face turned ashen, yet he still raised his head, defiance flickering in his eyes.

"She… how could we allow a woman to stand above our heirs?!"

The patriarch's gaze sharpened, his jaw tightening with restrained fury.

"How dare you attempt to harm a child of the Tang Clan?" he asked coldly, each word sharp as a blade. 

"Your actions are not only dishonorable, they disgrace our name. You've shattered the trust and tarnished the traditions we hold sacred. How can you call yourself a member of this clan?"

The man's expression twisted with fury, but the patriarch silenced him with a glare.

"I sentence you to the Spider Prison," he declared. "From this day forward, you are stripped of your title, and your family will be exiled,"  the patriarch declared in a final judgment.

The elder paled, his face drained of all color. His hands trembled, and his knees shook as he realized the weight of the patriarch's words. The other elders protested almost instantly.

"Isn't that too much?"

"The Spider Prison… there must be another way…"

That prison wasn't a place of confinement. It was a feeding ground for venomous spiders, kept to harvest their venom. Being sent there was a fate worse than death.

"You…" the disgraced elder's voice quivered. "You can't do this…!"

He turned to the other elders for support, but they averted their eyes, retreating into silence.

The patriarch's gaze flicked to Tang Bo, searching his expression for any sign of appeasement. But the Dark Saint remained still, silent, cold, unconvinced.

There was nothing more the patriarch could do.

"Drag Tang Wen to the prison," he commanded.

As the others moved to seize him, Tang Wen stumbled back, reaching into his sleeves with trembling hands.

"D-Don't come closer, or I'll use the Five-Colored Poi—!"

His threat was cut short by a bloodcurdling scream. In a blink, his hands were severed, falling limp at his sides. He collapsed to his knees, shrieking in agony.

Tang Bo lowered his dagger without a word, his gaze locked on the writhing man. Cold. Unblinking.

"Lock him up," he said with an eerily calm.

The patriarch blinked in surprise, not at the act of violence, but at the restraint. That Tang Bo had not killed him outright was… unexpected.

The others didn't hesitate. They stopped the bleeding and dragged Tang Wen away as he continued to thrash and wail, his screams echoing through the chamber until the doors finally slammed shut behind him.

The patriarch let out a long, weary breath, his shoulders sinking under the weight of it all.

"Tang Bo—"

"I'll go calm my husband," Tang Bo interrupted, his tone flat, then added with a flicker of grim humor, "If I don't, he might raze the entire Tang Clan to the ground."

The patriarch managed a weak nod. He didn't doubt that for a second.

He faced many storms during his time, but this was certainly one of the most challenging. The patriarch could only pray for the quiet and peace to be restored.

Still, he harbored no regret over Tang Wen's punishment. Personal grudges were one thing, but an attempt on a child's life? That was unforgivable.

He turned his eyes toward the way of the ancestral hall and bowed his head in silent prayer. May the ancestors guide them through this without much bloodshed.

Tang Bo's footsteps echoed down the corridor, heavy with guilt.

If Chung Myung hadn't been faster... If he'd just paid more attention to the people, not just the poisons... His daughter's life had hung in the balance. The thought clawed at him, tightening around his chest.

His fist clenched at his side, and he stopped, forcing a breath through gritted teeth to calm himself.

"Dad!"

The voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he noticed Tang Myung-Ya running toward him.

He quickly tried to muster a smile, but the moment he saw the fear in her eyes, his heart sank. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes glistened as if holding back tears. He hurried over and knelt, catching her as she flung herself into his arms. He checked her over in seconds.

No injuries. No poison. Just terrified.

"You're safe, baby girl," he murmured, gently brushing his hand over her hair.

But she didn’t calm down. Her small fingers clung tightly to his robes, her breath shaky as she cried—and Tang Bo’s eyes widened in alarm.

"Papa—h-he fell and won’t wake up!"