Chapter 49
Yeoil was not surprised — she had already heard about it from Namgung Jeokmyeong.
“Since the clans will be empty for a while because of the martial arts tournament, someone has to stay behind to guard them.”
“Ah, well, that makes sense. There really aren’t many people left in that household… But still, there’s that elder, isn’t there? Namgung Pae.”
“I’m sure he has his reasons.”
Downing the bitter medicinal brew in one gulp, Yeoil called out to Chang-ah.
“Chang-ah, you know where the ancestral shrine is, right?”
“The shrine? Of course. It’s over near Bukcheong.”
“Take me there. I should at least pretend to pray to my late brother.”
Chang-ah led Yeoil, walking slowly down the path.
Not long ago, the real Namgung Chumyeong’s memorial tablet had finally been placed in the Namgung clan’s ancestral shrine. While Yeoil had been recovering her strength, a brief memorial service for the second son had been held.
Traditionally, an unmarried sibling’s tablet was not enshrined, since they left no descendants to carry on the family line.
However, Namgung Chumyeong’s tablet now stood proudly in the very center of the shrine.
Namgung Jeokmyeong, who cherished his blood relatives as though they were his own flesh and bone, had insisted on it almost by force, and since even the clan’s eldest elder, Namgung Pae, permitted it, no one dared to oppose him.
“Over there — you can see the iron mask hanging by the main gate.”
On the way, as they briefly stopped near the entrance of the clan estate, Chang-ah whispered to Yeoil,
“They say it’s gotten more and more hideous, probably from all the stones people keep throwing at it. I even heard that some folks come from faraway places just to see that mask. Some have even managed to sneak inside and meet the young clan lord himself…”
Thud.
Right on cue, a dull clatter of stones hitting metal rang out. Yeoil listened closely to the loud and quiet voices outside the gate.
“Pah! Filthy villain of the world! You wretched assassin scum, get out of Anhwi Province!”
“Good heavens… Who would’ve thought the gentle second young master was actually a masked demon all along? The young clan lord must have been devastated when he found out…”
“As expected of the Azure Sword, Namgung Jeokmyeong! He endured ridicule and scorn just to uncover the assassin hiding under his own brother’s face. Those who condemned him without knowing the truth should be ashamed!”
Judging by the tone, public opinion about Namgung Jeokmyeong had completely reversed.
At a time when the terror of the assassin massacre still lingered fresh in people’s minds, the fame of the man who had exposed a killer disguised as his brother was now soaring higher than ever.
“Let’s go, Chang-ah.”
“Yes, miss.”
They walked for a while — until suddenly,
“Hold there. Stop.”
A woman’s voice called out from behind them on the path leading to Bukcheong. Chang-ah whispered,
“It’s Lady Danrimuk-ran, my lady.”
Just great. Even the rare occasion she stepped outside, trouble found her.
Chang-ah guided Yeoil toward the woman standing beneath the corridor. Yeoil could already picture her — chin lifted, eyes filled with haughty condescension.
“So it really is Namgung Soyo. I wasn’t sure. I heard you were gravely ill — are you feeling bet—”
Cough! Cough!
Yeoil hacked violently, the sound sharp enough to pierce the ears. Chang-ah quickly bowed toward Danrimuk-ran.
“My apologies, madam. The young lady still cannot speak since being poisoned. I beg your understanding.”
“Oh dear. How pitiful. But what is a mute invalid doing out and about?”
“She’s on her way to the shrine to pay respects to the second young master’s tablet.”
“Oh? Soyo, you still know how to honor your elders, I see. How timely — I’m also headed there. Let’s go together.”
“……”
“As a concubine’s daughter, you’re being treated far better than most. You should behave accordingly. Remember, a woman’s greatest duty to her family is to marry well. Especially one as frail and sickly as you — a good match would ease your clan’s burdens…”
“……”
Yeoil felt invisible blood trickle from her ears as they continued toward the shrine.
“Ugh…”
Leaving the struggling Chang-ah by the shrine entrance, Yeoil allowed herself to be supported by Danrimuk-ran as they stepped into the dim inner sanctum, where generations of Namgung ancestors were enshrined.
Of course, Danrimuk-ran’s mouth never stopped moving.
“You seem well enough to walk again — good. Starting tomorrow, I’ll have Young Master Go visit. You two can share some tea and—”
Shhhhkk—
That was it. She’d reached her limit.
Conveniently, someone else seemed to have visited the shrine earlier — the strong scent of incense lingered in the air. Yeoil noisily straightened her robes and knelt to bow, making as much rustling as possible.
While pretending to meditate in silence, Danrimuk-ran’s voice sliced through again.
“…Don’t think Jeokmyeong and Heemyeong will protect you forever.”
Perhaps it was the setting, but her voice sounded calmer than usual.
“A man’s duty is always to his wife and children first. That is the natural order of things.”
“……”
“When those two marry and build families of their own, you’ll become nothing but a useless ornament in this household.”
“……”
“By the time you look for a husband, all decent men will be wed. The clan’s pride won’t allow them to send you off as someone’s concubine, so they’ll probably sell you off to some fool just to be rid of you. The clan mistress will make sure of it — I’ve seen it all myself.”
Her tone carried a strange serenity — the kind that comes from bitter experience.
“In that sense, Young Master Go is as fine a match as you’ll ever find. His family isn’t as prestigious as ours, true, but they live close by. He’ll spoil you, and as a woman, that’s a rare blessing.”
But even sincerity can’t buy patience.
“Just bear one son. Do that, and you’ll live comfortably for the rest of your—”
“Be quiet.”
A single low command, followed by brief silence.
“…Did you just—”
Danrimuk-ran turned, disbelief on her face—
Tap.
Yeoil’s finger struck a vital point. The woman collapsed soundlessly to the floor.
Finally quiet.
Should’ve done that earlier.
The shrine was an excellent place for meditation.
Since Yeoil couldn’t practice inner cultivation properly, she found peace in quiet, solitary places like this.
No enlightenment, no deviation — just pure, tranquil stillness.
Creak—
The door opened. Someone entered.
The approaching footsteps behind her were too measured, too composed to belong to Namgung Jeokmyeong — yet too calm and deep to be Namgung Heemyeong.
Who else in the Namgung clan walked with such grace, and had permission to enter the ancestral shrine?
It wasn’t even worth wondering.
While Yeoil stayed silent, the newcomer came to stand just behind her.
The faint sound of incense being lit, then placed.
The person set down a cushion about two spans away from her, every motion smooth and practiced, like someone who’d repeated this ritual for over a decade.
An unfamiliar solemnity filled the air. Then, softly, a man’s voice broke the silence—
“Emperor Wu of Liang once asked Bodhidharma…”
