DRP 43

When she heard the situation, Grandmother greeted Uncle Radali first.

“Thank you for your help.”

“Oh, it was nothing.”

“If it weren’t for you, how much longer would our family have had to go wandering before getting closer to the truth? I can’t stand useless delays. If something’s to be overturned, overturn it.”

At Grandmother’s domineering reply, Uncle Radali’s smile froze in place. He seemed surprised at how belligerent she could be.

Well, when our family made deals it was usually Father, the sole commissioner, who represented us. Uncle Radali hadn’t had many chances to meet Grandmother.

“First, let us taste the tea you bought. Sometimes tea can smell and taste completely different once it’s brewed.”

Brewing the tea was the job of Uncle Baek.

White, round teaware looked unexpectedly good in Uncle Baek’s large, dark hands.

Clink.

They warmed the cups with hot water, put the tea leaves into the teapot and added water, then discarded the first brew. Following the steps carefully, a deep tea fragrance filled the room.

“What a fine aroma.”

“Truly.”

Mother and Aunt Baek showed interest in the tea.

When Uncle Radali saw that, certainty dawned on his face. Grandmother, for her part, was simply astonished.

They’d inspected the place, smelled the tea.

Grandmother took a slow sip; her face contorted.

“Ah, this is—”

A damp emotion seeped over the expression of disbelief.

“This is the tea Younghu used to like…”

It was longing.

Grandmother’s voice, soaked like waterlogged paper, buckled under the weight of memory.

“And it’s also the tea Dokyung liked.”

“You knew?”

“Of course. How could I forget Younghu secretly offering sips? He’d wet his chin with the tea and pretend nothing happened; it was rather endearing, so I let it slide.”

“……”

Grandmother laughed, saying that during that time Uncle Baek had been plump and doglike. For a moment the sorrow that had dipped in her chest seemed to lift.

In any case, this made it certain that the tea came from the Fil family’s jar used for sorcery. It was still circumstantial—no physical evidence—but the suspicion had firmed.

“Now, tell us everything.”

“About what?”

“About your playing dumb.”

Grandmother finished her tea and looked at Uncle Radali.

“I’ve met many merchants. They all, without exception, have a habit of clutching information they consider valuable until the bitter end.”

She put down the empty cup and wore a fierce smile at her lips.

“You won’t be short-changed. Hand it over.”

“This is awkward. The head of the Hyun family requested the deal.”

Uncle Radali’s scarlet eyes gleamed in the dim light.

“How could a merchant refuse such a request?”

The Yu country is ruled by the giraffe clan.

Not the sad long-necked kind, but the mythical qilin-like creature from folklore—vastly revered—was the royal symbol of Yu.

Like our kingdom, the Yu royal family valued offspring highly.

Giraffe births were rare: at most, two at a time; usually only one. With successions so precarious, ensuring heirs was a constant struggle for the giraffe clan.

“As I recall, this emperor’s first child was born a giraffe.”

“A great blessing indeed.”

Because the emperor’s firstborn daughter was a giraffe, the next successor to the Yu throne had been decided early on. People rejoiced, relieved there’d be no succession worries.

That held true until the second prince—born the following year—turned into a giraffe on his first birthday.

There was only one throne but two giraffes.

With similar ages, conflict was inevitable.

The emperor tried his best to suppress the unrest, foreseeing civil strife, but it was difficult. The Yu people—by nature fierce and living through distinct dry and wet seasons—would not yield their will.

They insisted they would pick the giraffe they would serve.

“Although the second prince repeatedly declared he had no interest in the throne, it was ineffective,” Uncle Radali said.

The underhanded power struggles intensified. People worried civil war might break out.

Fortunately, the feared bloodshed never happened.

“Ah—that sudden news of the royal marriage four years ago was because of that, huh?”

“Yes. The second prince fled the country to marry a princess from Nakuk.”

By marrying abroad, the second prince effectively ended the succession dispute.

Now everyone had to bow down to the firstborn giraffe princess as the heir apparent… and so the situation turned.

“The Sa family strongly backed the second prince.”

“They picked the wrong side.”

“Yes. Even though that line wanted to be released, they persisted.”

In short: the Sa family—once a grand landowning house—packed up in a hurry and emigrated from Yu to Heulguk, leaving their mansion and vast lands behind.

They paid dearly for failing to read the tide of politics.

When the story ended, Uncle Radali, thirsty, gulped the remaining tea. He couldn’t help but relax—apparently the tea was quite good.

Grandmother folded her arms and went into thought. She seemed to be arranging possibilities based on what Uncle Radali had told her.

“Tsk.”

But as time passed, the wrinkles between her brows deepened and her lips twitched; it looked worse than they’d expected.

“What if we did this? No, that would be self-defeating. If we did this instead…”

Muttering softly as she mapped out the board and calculated, Grandmother’s expression inevitably mirrored the black dog in the folding screen.

We were used to it, but Uncle Radali across from her visibly paled in real time.

She must be terrifying.

I quickly transformed into a little dog and wagged my tail as I approached Grandmother. I put my two front paws on her knee and stared up into her face.

Grandmother’s once-intimidating expression softened at the sight of her granddaughter wagging a tail and looking up.

“Phew.”

She let out a short sigh and scooped me up, rubbing my back with both hands.

“This is complicated.”

“Is it really that bad?”

“A troublesome mess tumbled into my yard, and we can’t pull it out rashly. This isn’t something to meddle with carelessly.”

Her gaze shifted to Uncle Baek and Father. The two handling family affairs and Aunt Baek also looked grim, as if they had grasped the situation.

“From Heulguk’s perspective, Yu is to the southwest. And Seolgokdo lies to the far northeast—furthest from Yu. The fact they came all the way here means they wanted maximum distance from Yu.”

Aunt Baek opened the discussion.

“Put simply, they likely have more than one enemy back in Yu.”

As often noted, Aunt Baek had a military background and was an expert at sizing up situations. Uncle Baek, who also had served in the military, picked up the thread.

“Abandoning their land—the source of a family’s income—means the Sa family probably made quite a few enemies back in Yu. They must have fled here to avoid those coming to collect lives’ debts.”

At that, Uncle Radali easily inferred the next detail.

“They didn’t have time to properly sell off their land and house. In a hurry they probably only grabbed jewelry and easily moved items.”

“The Sa family had many retainers across direct and collateral lines. Costs to feed and clothe them would have been substantial.”

“And their plan to make up for that…”

Hm, hm.

Summarizing the adults’ dizzying chatter yielded this:

The Sa family had almost run out of money and needed a new income source.

People from Yu were rare on Seolgokdo, and our Hyun family—already established—didn’t grow tea.

So, they decided to acquire tea by improper means and use the sorcery jars they couldn’t safely use back home.

Even if they couldn’t restore the wealth and power they’d enjoyed in Yu, it would be enough to solve their immediate financial crisis.

“Ta-da!”

Ta-da! Did I summarize correctly?

When I asked the adults, Grandmother patted my back with a satisfied face.

“You’re clever. Indeed, the granddaughter of Hyun Tae-rang.”

“Woof!”

I puffed out my chest and held my head high.

“Oh, I almost forgot to ask—what about the Fil family, owners of the sorcery jars? Is the line completely gone?”

At Grandmother’s question, Uncle Radali shook his head.

“The family itself was ruined, but there are direct descendants still living in Yu. The granddaughter and her husband of the previous head run a teahouse in the Yu capital.”

“So even without the sorcery jars, they kept the business going.”

“The wife brews the tea and the husband makes matching confections.”

Their skills were good enough that business did reasonably well.

The conversation then lapsed into a quiet period. Many at the table were worn from traveling long distances.

Uncle Baek, Father, I, and Uncle Radali had just come from the Sa family mansion; Grandmother had raced from the capital to the house—none of us could focus for long.

So we opted for late-night food.

A hot bowl of steaming noodles felt lifesaving.

With the window open for ventilation, the crisp autumn night air put our minds on a keener edge.

“Hyeon.”

“Yes?”

“This won’t be an easy matter. It will take time and a complicated process. The deeper we dig to catch the culprit, the more people will be troubled and inconvenienced.”

Grandmother asked plainly if I would still go after the bad people.

I remembered the rancid stench the Sa family left behind—intense, pervasive. Bitter as it was, I’d learned from the murderer in Rose Village: bad people never commit only one bad act.

If we didn’t catch the Sa family now, more people would inevitably be harmed.

Weeds must be pulled from the field before their roots take hold!

Hearing me, the adults agreed gravely.

“And the sorcery jar should properly return to the Fil family granddaughter.”

“That’s right. Let’s decide what needs doing first.”

Grandmother cooled her lips with cold tea and looked to Father to summarize.

Father smiled faintly and patted my back as if to comfort me.

“What we should focus on first are the family they acquired, the house, and the tea fields the Sa family took over.”

“And Yu?”

“That comes later. This is Heulguk. Handle what can be resolved here first, then move on.”

Father said the investigation would be entrusted to the Special Security Squad.

This matter—possibly affecting the residents of Seolgokdo—was far more serious than the incidents Sa-ron had caused.

Moreover, it involved family property and fields, so it was no ordinary case.

The problem was the Sa family hadn’t naturalized.

In Heulguk, foreign-born residents need to live at least ten years to naturalize. The Sa family, established here for only about four years, were still foreigners in status.

That meant if arrested they would likely be extradited back to Yu.

“To ensure those beasts receive proper punishment here, we need concrete evidence. Dokyung—find witnesses, traces, even minor rumors. Gather everything.”

“Understood.”

Once Grandmother made a decision, she wasted no time.

She gave thorough instructions even to Uncle Radali and adjourned the meeting.

“Well then.”

With the target decided—

“Shall we merrily capture the pack of lions who mucked up my territory?”

It was time to hunt.