FSLSRE C6

Chapter 6. A Secret Conversation 

Dan-oh glanced around, scanning her surroundings. Yet there was no sign of anyone.

“A cat…?”

Just as she was about to close the door again, her eyes widened. On the wooden porch before the doorway lay a small bundle of flower branches.

Reaching out, Dan-oh picked them up. The delicate pink petals clinging to the branches fluttered and fell.

A gentle breeze slipped through the crack in the door. The scent of plum blossoms, carried on the spring night air, filled the room of the eighteen-year-old girl.

“Who on earth left this here…?”

Lifting her head, Dan-oh looked outside. As if bewitched by the fragrance, she stepped out of the room.

The inner courtyard of Ihwawon lay quiet beneath the moonlight. Gazing at the neat yard, the tightness in her chest gradually eased. In its place came a warm sense of peace.

Ihwawon was a place Dan-oh had tended and cared for with her own hands. Not a single tree, not even a small stone lying in the yard, had gone untouched by her. Everything within Ihwawon was a part of the memories she had built over her lifetime.

The days when her father was still alive. The carefree, happy years of her childhood. Those memories were the source of strength that allowed eighteen-year-old Dan-oh to live on as the mistress of Ihwawon.

Father… I’m doing well.

A faint smile touched her lips as she quietly closed her eyes.

Every night, whenever she looked over the account books, a sigh would escape her lips. Though its name as a prestigious guesthouse sounded grand, the life of the family within it was modest beyond measure.

Still, her father would understand. How much devotion she poured into Ihwawon, how sincerely she loved and cherished this place.

Lost in such thoughts, Dan-oh slowly took in the scenery within the walls.

That was when—

From across the yard, through the half-open door of the servants’ quarters, a pair of eyes stared back at her.

“Ah!”

Startled, Dan-oh cried out upon spotting San watching her from inside her own room.

“What’s there to be so surprised about?”

“Aah… San oppa.”

Placing a hand over her chest, Dan-oh took a deep breath.

“I thought my heart stopped. I thought you were a ghost!”

“Be honest. I was just sitting in my room. You’re the one who came and disturbed me.”

Embarrassed by his indifferent reply, she asked,

“Why are you still awake at this hour?”

“And you?”

“I just… couldn’t sleep.”

“Neither could I.”

San rose and stepped out into the courtyard.

Dropping himself onto the wooden bench, he looked at Dan-oh. Perhaps because she had been startled, her face looked even paler than usual under the moonlight.

“Don’t your legs hurt?”

“My legs?”

“You’ve been running around all day. Even mine are aching, so how are you still so energetic?”

“Oppa… are you worrying about me right now?”

“Why would I worry about you?”

As always, his answer was curt. Yet a small smile spread across Dan-oh’s face.

Perhaps Yuha oppa had been right. He worried about her like this, kept her company on lonely nights. He might speak bluntly, but San wasn’t cold-hearted after all.

San was always aloof. Even now, his face was expressionless. But tonight, for some reason, Dan-oh felt he was as warm as Yuha or Si-yeol.

“My legs suddenly… hurt. Why is that?”

Murmuring as if puzzled, she sat down beside him.

“I asked if your legs hurt. Who told you to sit next to me?”

“I’m not sitting next to you. I’m just resting because my legs hurt.”

San didn’t bother responding. Dan-oh’s feet swung lightly as she sat on the bench. The faint sound of her embroidered shoes brushing the ground filled the silence as neither spoke for a while.

After some time, San glanced sideways at her.

Dan-oh was gazing up at the distant night sky. Her long eyelashes cast neat shadows across her cheeks. A petal from the plum tree drifted down and landed softly on her hair.

Under the canopy of blooming plum blossoms, the tranquil spring night deepened.

“It’s a nice picture.”

At the sudden voice, both Dan-oh and San turned at once.

“Well, well. Look at this. San, of all people, sitting so prettily beside Dan-oh.”

“Si-yeol oppa, you’re not asleep?”

“I lay down to sleep, but I heard voices outside. And listening closely—wasn’t that rascal San? I got worried he might kidnap our Lady Dan-oh, so I came running.”

At Si-yeol’s usual teasing, San let out a short scoff.

“You really do only think like yourself.”

“What a flattering compliment. Thank you, my friend.”

“I should be the one thanking you for taking an insult as praise.”

“Oh? San calling me ‘friend’? It must be a special day. The one day a year when Kang San calls me that.”

“If you’re done talking, why don’t you disappear?”

“Hm… so you want to have a private conversation alone with Dan-oh? Very well, very well. I’ll graciously yield her to you tonight, my friend.”

As Si-yeol turned to leave, he suddenly paused and looked at Dan-oh.

“By the way, I saw Yuha coming from your room earlier. Did you talk about something?”

“Yuha oppa?”

Dan-oh repeated, startled. She suddenly remembered the plum blossoms left at her door.

Then could it be that the one who had brought them was truly…

“No, he didn’t come. Maybe he stopped by the storage room…”

“Yuha wouldn’t be wandering into the storeroom at night. He probably missed you and lingered nearby before leaving.”

“Si-yeol oppa, will you stop making such embarrassing jokes?”

“A joke? I’m serious, Dan-oh. Don’t you really see Yuha as a man?”

Dan-oh looked at him with a firm expression.

“There are no ‘men’ in Ihwawon. All I see are scholars preparing for the state exam. I’ve never once thought of anyone here as a man. Not even once in my life.”

“Oh dear.”

At her resolute answer, Si-yeol waved his hands as if conceding.

“Just like Dan-oh—firm to the end. You’ve got the spirit of a general.”

“So please stop teasing me like that, oppa.”

“Alright, alright. But what will become of poor Yuha? Because of me, he got rejected too.”

At that moment, San suddenly stood up.

“Cut the nonsense and go to sleep.”

“What, weren’t you about to have a secret talk with Dan-oh?”

“A secret talk? Don’t be ridiculous. Listening to you is giving me a headache. I’m going to bed, so stop being noisy.”

Brushing past them, San slammed his door shut. It was so loud that dust rose from the ground below.

“That guy… always so temperamental, day or night. The more I get to know him, the stranger he seems.”

“That’s odd. He seemed to be in a good mood just a moment ago…”

Inside his room, San could still hear their voices.

Lying flat on his bedding, he shut his eyes tightly. The sound of Dan-oh and Si-yeol’s footsteps gradually faded away.

Within the towering gates of Bukchon, where the most powerful figures of the court resided, stood a particularly imposing residence.

This was the home of Shin Woon-ho, the Left State Councillor—once a man said to wield power so great that even birds in flight would fall at his command.

For any scholar aspiring to officialdom, the position of one of the Three High Councillors was a dream. Among them, Shin Woon-ho was the most exceptional.

Seated inside a grand reception hall, he remained with his eyes gently closed, deep in thought. Across from him sat a sharp-featured man dressed in official robes. The silence stretched on uncomfortably, and the man shifted slightly.

“His Majesty has yet to regain consciousness.”

The councillor’s voice, still with eyes closed, echoed through the quiet room.

“Isn’t this already the second time this year that His Majesty has suddenly collapsed?”

“Indeed. The second time… The royal physicians say it is an illness brought on by his fiery temper, yet even they cannot find a cure.”

“You must be greatly concerned, Your Excellency.”

“I am. Very much so. If His Majesty were to…”

At last, the councillor opened his eyes. His voice grew lower, more secretive.

“…pass away.”

It was a thought no subject should dare utter. The man swallowed hard.

“There is no heir. He purged all those of royal blood before ascending the throne—there is not a single descendant left to inherit it.”

“That is true.”

“For a king so fond of women, to have no successor… what a cruel twist of fate.”

The king, Yi Chang of Joseon, had seized the throne through a bloody rebellion after the previous king’s death.

His rise to power had been drenched in blood.

Fierce and ruthless from an early age, he slaughtered his brothers, their families, even his sister and uncle’s household, committing unforgivable atrocities to claim the throne. On the day he donned the red dragon robe, not a single royal relative remained alive in Joseon.

Fifteen years ago, he became king amid a storm of bloodshed. Now, that very man lay unconscious on his sickbed.

“With the Queen and so many concubines, who could have imagined this would happen?”

“Indeed…”

The man trailed off, unable to voice the thought.

People whispered of it as a curse—that a man who had defied the natural order to become king would never leave an heir.

“Magistrate Jang.”

“Yes, Your Excellency.”

“The royal lineage of Joseon stands in peril. At this rate, the House of Yi will come to an end.”

“What do you intend to do?”

For a long moment, the councillor said nothing. But Magistrate Jang waited patiently, like a well-trained hunting dog.

Jang Tae-hwa, an official of the Military Training Office, had long served as the councillor’s right hand. He knew that patience would always be rewarded.

“At last…”

The councillor spoke.

“The time has come.”