DRP 44

The Hyeon household’s Special Security Unit began a covert investigation.

Not satisfied with that alone, my father — the chief commissioner — dug into transactions connected to the Sa family, and four days after Uncle Baek personally inspected things.

“Is that all of it?”
“No. This is only what we scratched off the surface.”
“Huh.”

Evidence that the Sa family had committed horrible deeds kept piling up!

“Isn’t this information from the security unit?”
“No. When we started tracing the Sa family’s backers, the victims handed over every scrap of documentation they had.”
“With this much, they would’ve filed an official complaint.”
“They did, but it was useless — they were furious about it.”
“Damn them. They bribed the government offices too.”

Grandmother pressed her forehead at the fact that there were more bad people to catch. I, too, unrolled another scroll beside her and felt the hairs on my arms stand on end.

“How horrible!” I cried.

It wasn’t without reason that the direct lineage of the Sa family reeked of corruption.

Seolgokdo was full of small farms that cultivated tea trees and made tea; during the Sa family’s purchases of tea groves and takeovers of fields, several suspicious deaths had occurred.

Bereaved families had appealed to the authorities for help, but their pleas were ignored.

Small tenant farmers and households who had dared to resist the Sa family had fallen into ruin one after another; frightened, they had no choice but to sell their property for pennies.

So the mountain — which had once belonged to many small owners — ended up consolidated under the Sa family.

I pulled out scroll after scroll and, unable to hold it in, shouted again, “How cruel!”

“Cough. Hyeon-ah.”
“But, Grandmother — they’re terrible people!”

There were many victims, and many ruined households.

From the Hyeon clan’s perspective as rulers of Seolgokdo, this could not be left alone. When I shouted in righteous anger, Grandmother took my small hand.

“You’ll hurt yourself.”
Oh.

Without realizing it, I’d exerted myself in frustration; a neat brass cup made by the famed metalworkers was dented into a ball. Fortunately the cinnamon punch that had been inside had already been drunk, so nothing spilled.

“It’s all right, my pup. Grandmother is here.” Grandmother patted my back and took the dented cup.

“Do-gyeong.”
“Yes?”
“If the victims get this riled up and gather this much evidence, the Sa rascals will surely notice.”

In other words, the Sa family might try to harm witnesses and victims. My uncle nodded, understanding Grandmother’s intent.

“I’ll arrange protective detail.”
“Good.”

It took ten days, total, to uncover the Sa family’s corruption.

“Now it’s time for me to move,” Grandmother said, standing before the wall of evidence in her office.

Grandmother solved the matter in a straightforward way — but one that not just anyone could use.

She went herself to the capital and met with the prime minister, handing over the files and investigation records my uncle had compiled.

Because the Sa family were still citizens of Yuguk, diplomatic consultations were essential if the matter was to be handled cleanly and conclusively.

Several people had already died because of the Sa family’s crimes.

The matter was formally reported up to His Majesty the Emperor via the prime minister.

When the Emperor read the report, he gave a single order.

“Resolve this quickly.”

An order from the sovereign — of course the diplomats of both countries felt the heat under their feet. Carriers crossed the border countless times, bearing letters personally signed by each nation’s emperor.

Yuguk, when first contacted by Heulguk, was mortified.

One of their once-respected families had emigrated to another country and immediately begun committing every conceivable crime — of course the shame was palpable.

But the damage had already been done.

And, upon closer inspection, it turned out those harmed by the Sa family were not only in Heulguk.

When officials from both countries exchanged information, a startling discovery surfaced.

The ritual urn that had belonged to the Pil family — the shamanic jar that had been stolen — had been reported stolen at the time, and the statute of limitations for the case was still in effect.

Unlike Heulguk, Yuguk had a system whereby, if the victim wished, they could pay to extend the statute of limitations. The system had been introduced by three former emperors as a source of revenue.

The Pil family descendants had used that system, paying every year to extend the limitation and never letting a single day lapse.

I asked Uncle Radali about it; he said the cost to keep extending the statute of limitations was not small.

Still, the Pil family pooled their money and paid faithfully every year, so that if they ever caught the thief who ruined the family, the culprit could be properly punished.

Everything lined up, so the two countries formed a joint investigative team.

That happened late that year.

Later, the task force raided the Sa family in a sudden, massive investigation early the next year.

Maybe the Sa family sensed something. They tried to destroy evidence, but the investigators were professionals. The forensics shaman restored even a letter that had been torn up and soaked.

Members of the Sa family were taken into custody on the spot.

The two royal houses reached an agreement about the criminals.

Those who committed crimes in Yuguk would be taken there to be punished; those who committed crimes in Heulguk would be imprisoned in Heulguk.

A few of the worst offenders, who had committed crimes in both countries, received death sentences.

“Death penalty?” I said.
“Do you think the punishment is too harsh?” Grandmother asked.

She recited the crimes of the condemned; as she did, the shock in my chest dissolved.

“They deserved to die,” I said.
“Right?”

There are people whose very existence is a crime.

The Sa family affair kept unfolding, layer after layer. Some had fled quickly and wanted, so wanted posters were posted across Heulguk.

One of them was Sarawon.

Sarawon had left under the pretense of repentance and taken a ship north — then disappeared. Probably fled when the family was torn apart.

At the end of January, as soon as word spread that the ritual urn had been recovered, a Pil family member came all the way to Seolgokdo. She was the granddaughter of the Pil family’s former head — the relative Uncle Radali had mentioned.

“Hello! I run the tea house ‘Pilda-hyang’ in Yuguk. I’m Pilla-tae!” she said, arriving and introducing herself.

Ms. Pilla-tae had hurried over so quickly she had barely listened to the official sent by the Yuguk court finish speaking.

“Even accounting for how fast you came, you really made good time!”
“Antelope people are fleet-footed!” she said, her sand-colored hair falling loose. She had a long neck and pretty eyes.

She was so cheerful and affable — she smiled the whole time.

“Here, please check. This is the ritual urn we found.” Grandmother offered the urn; Ms. Pilla-tae swallowed hard and touched it.

When she did, a flock-of-antelopes motif shimmered into view along the side of the urn.

“It’s ours!” she cried.

Her bright face crumpled as she clutched the urn.

“This is the exact urn my grandmother searched for… oh.”
“My goodness.”
“Waaah! You damned Sa lions! Waaaah!” Ms. Pilla-tae hugged the urn tightly and sobbed.

“You scoundrels who deserve to have antelope horns shoved where the sun don’t shine!”
“Huh.” She screamed ferocious curses and vented all the sorrow that had accumulated over the years.

There were more stolen goods in the Sa family’s storerooms, but ownership of most items was unclear, so national experts would determine the rightful owners.

Now it was truly over — finally.

As things wound down, Sobaeksan came to visit.

“You’ve worked hard, our Hyeon.”
“It wasn’t me who did all the hard work — it was Grandmother and the adults.”
“Still.”

It was the tail end of winter in February. I served Sobaeksan the special honeyed tea that Ms. Pilla-tae had gifted.

“This is lovely. It has green tangerine and flowers?”
“Yes. It’s tangy and sweet, fragrant — a pleasant tea.”

Even after losing the ritual urn, the Pil family had not given up on tea. They had fermented tea leaves themselves and ventured into making fruit preserves they had previously avoided — trying every measure they could.

“Ms. Pilla-tae said thank you for finding the urn, and she promised to supply us with tea from now on.”
“Tea?”
“Yes. We can’t drink tea produced by the Sa family anymore, can we?”

The state had confiscated the tea sold by the Sa family. People willingly returned tea leaves. No matter how fine the aroma or flavor, since it was proven to be stained with the victims’ blood and tears, nobody could enjoy it as before.

But what if it were tea from Ms. Pilla-tae — the original maker, the one whose family owned the urn? It would surely sell like hotcakes.

There was only one urn, so they still couldn’t produce large quantities, but she promised our household would always be given top priority.

Grandmother was very pleased. She said it would let her keep remembering Grandfather.

That alone made all the suffering feel like it had been worth it.

“It worked out well.”
“Right. I’ll set aside some for Sobaeksan too.”
“Really?”

I poured more tea for my cheerful fiancé.

“Fermented tea is good, but the preserves are really delicious. They say it’s good hot or cold.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”

Everything had ended well. Still, my mood wasn’t entirely light.

Sobaeksan noticed my expression and looked at me with concern.

“What’s wrong?”
“Um, I feel a bit… off.”
“Why?”

Sobaeksan set down his cup and gently pulled me onto his lap. I snuggled into him naturally and settled in.

Sniff — such a nice scent.

That must be why I’m more drawn to the preserves than to fermented tea. No tea scent can beat Sobaeksan’s natural scent.

Relaxed, I began to unburden myself.

“I learned something from this.”
“What is it?”
“I used to think that if I just found the bad people, everything would be okay.”

I had believed the adults would take care of everything once the villains were found. They had, up until now.

But through the Sa family incident I realized even Grandmother — who I’d thought could do anything, like a superhero — couldn’t solve everything easily.

It took the Emperor himself and cooperation between two countries just to punish one family. Seeing the whole process made me think that I might be making the adults work too hard for my sake.

“That’s not true.” Sobaeksan cut me off firmly.

“My betrothed is still young. Only eight years old. Difficult and dangerous things are what adults do.”
“But…”
“You found wrongdoers with your own nose, Hyeon. Even knowing it’d be hard, you insisted they be caught. That made the head of the Hyeon house act, and the bad people were caught.”

His voice, calm and steady, fell like honey onto the crown of my head.

“It’s because of you. Because of you, the victims’ grievances were cleared and further harm was prevented.”
“……”
“You’re good, my betrothed. Very brave. Wonderful.”

I blushed and my heart fluttered. I buried my nose in Sobaeksan’s chest; he hugged me for a long time and patted my back.

I vowed quietly within that embrace: not only my body, but my heart, and the strength to catch villains too — I would cultivate them.

I must become stronger!

“Soon you’ll uproot mountains too, won’t you, my granddaughter?” Grandmother clapped when I announced my resolve.

And so the winter drifted by, easy and light.