Yeong Chunhwa 53

Chapter 53

The hand stroking Yun-seo’s hair stopped. Hwi looked at Yun-seo with a slightly diminished smile and spoke.

“Is that really enough?”

“What do you mean ‘enough’? This is a very significant wish. You know the saying that a man’s word is worth a thousand gold? It’s a wish you absolutely cannot break.”

Why wouldn’t Hwi ask him anything? Was it because he trusted and loved him enough not to care even if he carried a great fault?

The conviction was beginning to take firm root deep in Yun-seo’s heart that even if he were actually the fugitive Yeong Chunhwa, even if he had hidden this truth until after their wedding ceremony, Hwi would forgive him. Yet the reason he made such a wish…

Was because he desired nothing more.

Since it was a wish Hwi had granted him through an intentional defeat, he wanted nothing greater. In truth, as he’d said, this was indeed a very significant wish. To ask someone to love you unchangingly regardless of who you are—wasn’t that pure selfishness?

“Very well.”

Yet Hwi granted this unreasonable wish without the slightest hesitation. When Yun-seo beamed with joy, Hwi opened his lips as if he had something to say. But his lips soon closed again, holding silence.

Had their souls truly been bound together before the gods? Strangely, he felt he knew what Hwi had wanted to say. He also wondered why Hwi ultimately didn’t ask. Instead of questioning, Yun-seo tightly gripped Hwi’s hand and answered his silence.

“I too will love you no matter who you are.”

So if there was something Hwi had yet to reveal to him, he hoped he would share it whenever he was ready. Even if he were the bloodline of a great criminal, or hiding something equally significant, he could embrace it all.

Hwi’s Adam’s apple moved visibly, as if he had swallowed something very heavy. Once again, Hwi stared at Yun-seo like someone left behind. Yun-seo now understood the sorrow and loneliness carried by this man who outwardly appeared flawless and complete. Thus, his only wish was that someday they could share all of it together.

Yun-seo embraced Hwi tightly, his face spread with a gentle smile. Having used this night fully as his pillow, he was certain to sleep soundly.

* * *

The chirping of chickadees outside the window sounded like a song, as if a flock had come to play. Finding it both pleasant and bothersome, Yun-seo tossed and turned, then suddenly lifted his eyelids when he felt the emptiness in his arms. The room, filled with seeping sunlight, was bright and cozy, but his beloved was nowhere to be found.

Yun-seo blinked blankly, then sluggishly rose and looked around. A faint disappointment crept in as he found himself alone in the space where they had been pressed together just the night before. Had he overslept again? Hwi seemed to have risen and left long ago, as no warmth remained in the bedding.

“Lord Hwi.”

Realizing his voice sounded different than usual, Yun-seo furrowed his brow. Why was it like this? After reflecting, he concluded it was because he had cried out too much yesterday, and felt embarrassed despite being alone.

“Ugh…”

When he tried to rise, his entire body creaked in protest. With no part of him free from pain and stiffness, a sigh escaped involuntarily. Was this what happened on a wedding night, or was physical intimacy always like this? If the latter, it would be somewhat troublesome, he thought as he lowered his legs outside the bed.

Neatly folded clothes were placed on the side table. Yun-seo called for Hwi again, louder this time, but felt no sign of his presence. His eyes awkwardly rolled once, then fell downward, and Yun-seo’s brow furrowed.

“What is all this…”

In the brightened space, he could see his body was a mess. Red and blue marks bloomed as if he were ill—anyone who saw would immediately take him to a physician. Fearing someone might actually see, Yun-seo quickly dressed.

After lightly completing his morning routine, his body, which had been difficult to move, gradually seemed to regain its vitality. Yun-seo rotated his shoulders and smiled when he discovered the bracelet jingling at his wrist.

After caressing the intricately embossed dragon figure with his fingertips for a while, he got up from his seat. Today seemed like it would be fun to cook a meal together. If the weather remained clear, he wanted to hold hands tightly and take a long walk. It would also be nice to visit the fish market and look at the seafood.

Yun-seo hummed a tune as he stepped outside the room.

On his way to the entrance, no sound but his own presence could be heard, making the house feel oddly unfamiliar. Puzzled by his own mood, he tilted his head, then lightly raised the corners of his mouth as he gripped the door handle.

As soon as he opened the door, he saw Hwi standing in the courtyard with his hands behind his back.

Yun-seo’s face, which had brightened with joy as he was about to call out to Hwi, froze abruptly. His hand tightened on the door handle, making a loud clattering noise. The sensation of blood draining from his body to his toes made his vision go white.

Before Hwi stood men with swords at their waists and women, arranged in two rows. Their bearing and impression proved they were no ordinary people. No, above all… the three-clawed dragons embroidered on the headbands they wore clearly revealed their identity.

This couldn’t be happening. Such despair should not have been waiting for Hwi and himself after such moments of happiness. Yet before he could sink into despondency, before he could formulate any plan, his body moved first.

Yun-seo rushed forward frantically to block Hwi’s front. As if protecting Hwi, as if doing so could somehow save him, he spread his arms.

“Th-this person is not the one! This person has done nothing wrong, and has no, no relationship with me, so please let him go.”

He could do anything if it meant sending Hwi away safely. Yun-seo desperately pleaded with these messengers of the afterlife who had arrived at paradise.

But just as he was about to speak once more, frustrated by these people who showed no reaction and kept their eyes lowered—

“What are you doing?”

A sharp, clear voice extended from behind Yun-seo’s shoulder. Hwi’s demeanor was no different than usual. In the midst of this sudden calamity and confusion, only one judgment became clear: Hwi must absolutely not confront the Yonglin.

Just as Yun-seo was about to reach back with a trembling breath to restrain Hwi—

“Without paying respects to my husband.”

The moment those dignified words, almost bored in their delivery, ended. Thud, thud, thud… The Yonglin lined up before them knelt simultaneously and bowed their heads.

“We behold the most honorable one.”

Yun-seo’s ears became deafened in an instant. The sound of crying chickadees from somewhere grew distantly faint. Though he was clearly standing still in place, the world spun dizzyingly as if he were about to collapse. Yun-seo blinked his eyes dully and stupidly, then slowly turned his head.

Behind him stood Hwi. With the face of a cold, dignified emperor who had never been beneath anyone’s feet since birth.

His throat constricted. Something was choking him, making it impossible to breathe properly, and that someone was his beloved. The very husband with whom he had sworn to share his life just yesterday.

Yun-seo stepped backward, shaking his head like a foolish simpleton who couldn’t grasp the situation. Hwi merely watched him with unwavering eyes, offering no words to explain this situation.

It was utterly unbelievable.

But simultaneously, everything fell into place, and all those ambiguities that had strangely constrained him during their time together suddenly made sense.

“Ha.”

A hollow sigh burst forth. A breath that could become neither laughter nor tears scattered. Yun-seo kept shaking his head to deny reality, but such mere actions could change nothing.

He wanted to escape this place somehow. Yun-seo dashed past Hwi in the direction not blocked by the Yonglin. Though he knew it was a foolish act, a futile act.

However.

“Yun-seo.”

This first calling of his name caught Yun-seo’s ankle and stopped his steps. The corners of Yun-seo’s mouth trembled uncontrollably. He halted abruptly and turned around.

The man standing at the center of the greatest yoke in this country was staring at him, casting an indelible, harsh shadow. The man he had loved was no longer there. Only the Emperor of Great Yeong remained.

Like dry land cracking, like solid ice breaking, bloodshot lines rose in his clear eyes.

Was his heart toward me sincere? Or was it a pretense to possess Yeong Chunhwa?

“Ha. Haha.”

Finding everything so lamentable, Yun-seo laughed while tears fell. Out of deep compassion for the man he had truly loved so intensely, unable to move even one more step. Glaring at the world with hatred.

*Gagyun: A term used when referring to one’s husband to others. National Institute of Korean Language, Standard Korean Dictionary.

Author: Hyacinthus B

Hyacinthus