Chapter 7
“Then, isn’t that so?”
“Normally, inhaling smoke can cause hallucinations. That’s all it is. How could letters suddenly appear on their own?”
“Before coming here, I stopped by the inn, and everyone was talking only about that. In fact, even the magistrate here heard it too, didn’t he?”
Hearing this, Minheon glared at the magistrate. The magistrate hurriedly waved his hands.
“Oh no, perhaps I misspoke. I merely heard it from someone else. I don’t actually know whether it’s true or not. I wasn’t there myself…”
So, he intends to deny the “heavenly revelation.” If that’s the case, the fire at the shrine becomes nothing more than human error—or a natural disaster. That is, it’s no longer seen as a warning from heaven about the magistrate’s exploitation, nor as the suffering of the people caused by it.
“Inspector, would you like to go and check immediately? I’d like to come too, but I have a council meeting soon.”
“A council meeting?”
“It’s a gathering with the influential families of Seochang to discuss local issues, big and small. But our magistrate here will guide you instead.”
Judging by how confidently he said that, it seems the cleanup has already been handled. Perhaps he acted the moment he heard the inspector was coming. This is exactly why I requested secrecy until arrival… Who could have blabbed?
Yehun suspects Jang Wonseop, the father of Jang Minheon.
Even if the cleanup was done, some evidence might remain. Either way, an on-site investigation still had to be done.
“Then I’ll ask the magistrate to accompany us.”
“Have you returned, Uncle?”
“Yes, yes.”
Yoon-gi took off his outer robe and spoke to Layeon and Idam.
“Come, sit here.”
What? All of a sudden? Layeon and Idam exchanged bewildered looks.
Yoon-gi hung his robe on a stand near the wardrobe and gestured to the opposite side. They obediently took their seats.
“Do you know about the recent fire at the shrine?”
Why bring that up now? Layeon was taken aback but remained composed.
“Ah, yes… I know about it.”
“I heard at today’s council meeting that the magistrate will not tolerate anyone spreading the rumor that letters appeared at the shrine. He’s even posting notices soon.”
“Rumor…?”
Layeon frowned. Yoon-gi shrugged.
“It seems the incident gained the court’s attention as a ‘heavenly revelation.’ Even an inspector was sent from the capital. So, they intend to pretend nothing happened.”
It’s understandable that they’d want to cover it up to hide the magistrate’s crimes. But still…
“There’s no way they can make it as if nothing happened. The letters definitely appeared.”
“That was mentioned too, but they firmly declared that no letters existed. They must have used some method.”
No letters? What does that even mean…
Ignoring Layeon’s confusion, Yoon-gi continued.
“So, you two… must be especially careful with your words for a while. Understood?”
Layeon and Idam were wild and unruly, impossible to restrain. But they couldn’t allow them to get dragged to the magistrate’s office.
“Yes, we’ll be careful.”
Layeon answered obediently. That very obedience seemed suspicious.
Surely she had seen the shrine burning and the letters appearing that day. And yet she accepted it like this? It was unlike her. Yoon-gi found it strange but didn’t press further.
“This is the place.”
Yehun followed the magistrate’s finger.
Although it was said to have burned, one shrine remained intact. Some walls had split roughly from the flames, but the overall structure hadn’t collapsed.
“I heard there were five.”
“Yes, four were burned down. They were made of wood… Building entirely with stone would take too long, and it would burden the people, so the magistrate ordered them to use wood.”
Likely because wood was easier to embezzle. Yehun didn’t comment and looked down at the ground.
The soil and ash covered charred wood fragments. Black and desolate.
He touched the burned wood. The surface was glossy. Rubbing it, he felt a slightly smooth texture. Oil. Someone deliberately poured it to make the flames spread faster.
“Shall we take a look around?”
This time, he inspected the remaining traces.
If it had been a simple accident, the fire’s path would have been random.
But this fire was different. The five shrines burned in nearly the same manner, following a calculated direction. This suggested someone had planned the fire’s path.
Considering the traces of oil, this wasn’t a mere mistake. Someone intended to burn all five shrines from the start.
“The walls… they’re blackened.”
He turned his gaze back to the stone shrine. One wall was particularly dark.
“Oh, those are scorch marks, I suppose.”
The marks weren’t soot; they were deliberately applied. Ink had spread along the wall’s texture, overlapping in some places to create blotches.
He ran his hand over the wall. The texture was strange. From a distance, the black surface seemed smooth, but up close, it was uneven.
Perhaps the ink hadn’t fully absorbed, leaving subtle ridges between the painted surface and the wall. The letters that supposedly appeared in the fire were definitely there.
“Rather than scorch marks…”
Pressing a bit harder, the hardened ink cracked roughly, and tiny powder fell. Scratching with his fingernail revealed faint traces of letters.
“More like ink markings than scorch marks.”
These were the very letters that confused Yehun the most.
It was obvious the magistrate had exploited the shrine as a pretext to oppress the people. A noble might manage, but for commoners, it would be impossible. In other words, all commoners in Seochang had motive.
But these letters…
The reported letters were beautifully written.
Could a commoner write something like this? This was not the capital, but Seochang. Many could read, but writing was another matter. Even signing one’s name was rare.
Then, perhaps the culprit was literate. But that’s also strange. Someone who could write should have been able to pay the magistrate’s tribute without difficulty.
The next day, just as Yoon-gi said, notices were posted all over Seochang.
“What does it say?”
A village woman asked in the middle of the market. Few could read.
“Young master, do you know what it says?”
A young man asked Idam, glancing at his sister. Layeon nodded slightly, and Idam cleared his throat and read aloud.
“Recently, completely baseless rumors have circulated in this county, causing disturbances among the people and violations of proper order.
Absurd claims, such as letters appearing in the burning shrine, make no sense and are merely sophistry by those who seek to undermine authority by pretending to represent heaven.
All citizens are strictly warned to restrain their speech and actions and to avoid unnecessary doubts beyond the revealed truth.
Anyone continuing such speech or asking about the source will be considered harboring rebellious intent and punished without exception.
Seochang Magistrate Jang Minheon, decrees.”
The village woman tilted her head.
“What does that mean?”
“Yes, what does it mean?”
All eyes turned to Idam. Layeon nodded again, and he spoke quietly.
“So… it means there were never any letters at the shrine, and everyone should watch what they say.”
A man retorted incredulously.
“No letters appeared? We all clearly saw them…”
“Did you all see them?”
At the unfamiliar voice, people turned. It was Jang Yehun.
Silence fell. Perhaps it was more his presence than his words. He exuded an overwhelming aura.
“Of course. We saw them clearly with our own eyes…”
One village woman, oblivious, exclaimed. Layeon tugged her sleeve and shook her head slightly.
Yehun quietly observed the scene—the girl gently correcting the woman’s hand, her face only subtly showing her disapproval.
Then, that child.
He naturally turned his gaze. The notice on the wall caught his eye. Reading the notice, Yehun covered his face with a fan. It was hard not to laugh at his cousin’s foolishness, but he couldn’t do it in front of others.
“Miss.”
At Yehun’s sudden call, Layeon pointed to herself.
“Did you call the girl?”
“Yes.”
He lowered the fan. His gentle face was remarkably handsome.
“Were you there at the time of the fire?”
Why is he suddenly talking to me? Layeon narrowed her brows in caution. Yehun smiled warmly as always.
“Yes, I was there.”
“And… did the letters appear then?”
