Chapter 38
“Brother, if it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t have found our Hyeongseo. How can we ever repay this gratitude?”
“It’s nothing. I just happened to visit the shrine by chance and met Hyeongseo. I was simply lucky.”
Yun-seo consoled the tearful Eun-gang while pouring wine into her cup. Beside her, Gyeong-ae heaved a deep sigh and let out a hollow laugh.
“After all that searching, he was at the shrine. They say the darkest place is under the lamp—how true. Did the gods punish us for never setting foot in the shrine?”
“Did you ever imagine you’d end up at Hwasicheong in your lifetime? Life is truly unpredictable.”
“I was so desperate that I even knelt before the Yongrim. How ironic that the Yongrim both ruined us and saved us. It’s all so meaningless, so meaningless.”
Gyeong-ae swallowed her wine with a bitter expression, as if drinking harsh liquor. Reading the regret that swept across the three women’s faces like a rough sandstorm, Yun-seo carefully asked:
“Have all of you… had connections with Yongrim?”
While walking around the village earlier, Yun-seo had noticed something striking. There were more women than men in the village, and quite a number of elderly people. And the strong bond connecting these people seemed to transcend the relationship of neighbors who simply shared hardships. Whether this had any connection to Yongrim, he couldn’t tell.
“You might have guessed, but this village wasn’t naturally formed by people coming and going. It’s a sanctuary built by comrades who found each other.”
“By comrades, you mean…”
“The lovers and families abandoned by those grand Yongrim lords.”
At Gyeong-ae’s cold response, Yun-seo froze, unsure how to react. How could she say that Yongrim acted against moral principles? It wasn’t that he didn’t believe Gyeong-ae, but he couldn’t comprehend it at all.
As if understanding Yun-seo’s confusion, Hyeon-song gave a bitter smile and placed a piece of meat in his bowl. Though he reluctantly put it in his mouth at her gesture to eat, he couldn’t taste anything.
“When my husband, whom I married at sixteen and lived with for over six years, belatedly awakened as a Yongrim, I was sad and frightened, but also proud. Why wouldn’t I be? My husband would become a hero who would save the country, doing noble and dignified work.”
Hyeon-song, the oldest among the three, caressed her wine cup as if stroking a garment worn threadbare from use. Though her face showed no lingering attachment to the past, it wasn’t difficult to see that this came from a maturity born of resignation.
“After a year, his letters stopped. After two years, the money and rice he used to send stopped, so I had no way of knowing whether he was alive or dead. I asked everywhere and barely learned that he had been dispatched to some Hwasicheong. I clung to that news like a lifeline and went to find him… but by his side was a Yeong Chunhwa, treasured as if even walking on a small pebble would be too much…”
Hyeon-song didn’t put into words what happened next, but it was easy to guess. She either turned away, unable to make her presence known, or was driven away.
Eun-gang wiped away tears and firmly grasped Hyeon-song’s hand. Hyeon-song gave her a reassuring smile.
Hearing this story for the first time, Yun-seo’s fingertips tingled. He gulped down his wine, moved his lips, and then frowned deeply.
“So everyone gathered here…”
“Yes. Long ago, people in similar situations decided to live together, and as word spread, this village with its long history was formed. That’s why we established the teahouse too. To bring in comrades who needed help.”
Now Yun-seo understood why Gyeong-ae had said that Suhyang was just one of their places. It seemed they had set up locations everywhere for people in similar situations to communicate, offer help, and comfort each other.
“I wouldn’t even lie down facing the direction of Hwasicheong. If it weren’t for this incident, I would never have seen those bastards’ faces.”
“I never knew until now. How they could even abandon their flesh and blood… I don’t understand.”
“Why else? It’s because of Yeong Chunhwa.”
At this indifferent answer, Yun-seo, who was listening as a Yeong Chunhwa himself, couldn’t help but be startled. He curled his fingers and carefully waited for Gyeong-ae to continue.
“They say Yongrim will die without Yeong Chunhwa, right? So they cling to them. Like dogs who care only about meat and not their masters, though even dogs have more integrity than that.”
“…”
“How can someone who can’t protect their own family claim to protect the country? Ha, well, thanks to them we’re living well, so I’m very grateful.”
Yun-seo moistened his parched throat with sweet fruit wine.
It was an established truth that without receiving the protective energy of Yeong Chunhwa, Yongrim would suffer terribly, and if not treated in time, could die from being unable to control their own power. He had been taught this and had studied the history that proved it, so he well understood why Yeong Chunhwa were essential to both Yongrim and the country.
But he had no idea such shadows existed behind this. How could anyone abandon their own family, no matter what? Wasn’t it like betraying someone after meeting a great doctor who saved their life?
‘Yongrim are the same. It’s no different from begging like a dog, licking and rubbing against the feet of the only one who feeds them.’
The comparison Hwi had once casually made came back to him.
He had heard repeatedly, to the point of being ingrained, that a Yeong Chunhwa’s protective energy was as vital as a lifeline to Yongrim, but he had only regarded it as the teachings of ancestors without truly feeling its urgency. But upon hearing these stories, his mind became complex and heavy.
How desperate must they be for protective energy?
But no matter how desperate, still…
These two thoughts collided, but as a Yeong Chunhwa who had run away from his duty, he couldn’t pass judgment arbitrarily.
While some abandoned their families to save the country, and others were abandoned in the name of saving the country, what was he doing?
He tried to coldly judge that the structure driving people to such extremes was unjust, but the guilt he thought he had left behind when he fled home fell like shattered pieces of porcelain, leaving cuts.
Perhaps Hwi had spoken that way before because he knew people like Gyeong-ae. Maybe there had been Yongrim among those close to him. With mixed feelings, Yun-seo drank wine repeatedly.
“But I understand.”
With her face flushed red after several cups of wine, Eun-gang shook her head, smiling as if about to cry.
“How difficult must it have been for them to do that? Yeong Chunhwa are like water to Yongrim. If you had to walk through the desert all day, would anything other than water even register in your mind? Hell isn’t called hell for nothing… How hellish must it be for them too?”
“Sister, you’re too kind-hearted. What use is a world where abandoning even children to save oneself is condoned? One thing is clear: there are also people who try to save others even when they themselves are in mortal danger.”
People who sacrifice their lives to save others. They deserve respect, but not everyone can do it. Even Yun-seo himself was fleeing to survive alone, so he could never be such a person.
It would be deceptive to easily sympathize with their feelings, yet he couldn’t wholeheartedly condemn the Yongrim either, so Yun-seo just kept gulping down his wine.
“Enough. Are we going to talk about gloomy things on this good day? On good days, we should share good stories.”
Hyeon-song composed the subdued atmosphere and changed the topic.
As they continuously passed drinks back and forth, intoxication gradually rose. There was frequent laughter and the conversation flowed without interruption, but strangely, as time passed, Hwi’s absence became more pronounced.
Yun-seo wondered why he had to leave so urgently. He should have asked. Though knowing wouldn’t have changed anything…
“Oh my, you’re drunk, so drunk.”
“To pass out after drinking just that much, and you call yourself a man?”
As he rested his head on the table, teasing voices came from all sides. The intoxication warming his cheeks brought with it an inexplicable sadness. Yun-seo blinked his heavy eyes and laughed emptily.
* * *
While contemplating what to do as time seemed to stand still, he remembered the pouch he had purchased earlier. He had intended to give it to Hwi but had completely forgotten due to everything that had happened that day.
What’s the point of idling around? I should at least do some embroidery, he thought, and borrowed needles and thread from Eun-gang.
He spent a long time deliberating on what to embroider, finding it difficult to decide since he thought of it as a token of affection for Hwi. Then he thought, what token of affection? It’s just a trivial, insignificant pouch to him, and decided not to assign any meaning to it.
What he wished for most was Hwi’s well-being. So he decided to embroider a turtle, which represents longevity, to wish for his safety and peace.
Focusing on the embroidery was good for clearing distracting thoughts. Since he wasn’t particularly skilled, the pattern would become messy if he got distracted even a little, so he had to force himself to maintain concentration. But as time passed and the promised third day arrived, his mind became increasingly unsettled, and he frequently pricked his fingertips with the needle.
Finally seeing a drop of blood emerge, Yun-seo put down the pouch and sighed.
Outside the window, the sun was setting. The sky turning red was like a painting, but he didn’t even have the leisure to admire it—how could he complete the embroidery? He wanted to finish it before Hwi returned, but that seemed unlikely now.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
