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Chapter 12
“I am Namgung Sayeol, and if that is the case…”
The local landholders knew of Namgung’s youngest daughter, but they knew nothing of Sayeol, the illegitimate child. To think she would arrive riding a carriage not drawn by horses, but by people. Shocked, they stammered—until Wol spoke.
“Should I kill them?”
“Leave them.”
Sayeol’s indifferent reply was simple, but its weight was terrifying enough. The men hurried to offer them a room.
When the black-clad attendants finished their tasks, Wol asked again:
“Shall I kill them?”
“Let them go.”
At Sayeol’s words, the sound of their anxious sighs followed.
Geumsangho, the local landholder of Myeongdo, lodged them in a separate guest house—but he still could not recall ever hearing of a Namgung girl that age. So he quietly sent his wife to ask around about whether Namgung had such a daughter, telling her to keep it discreet.
His wife’s report was more shocking than expected.
“There is an illegitimate girl around that age in the Namgung household, my lord. I’m not sure how she’s treated within the clan, but I heard she’s recently set to marry into the Jegal family…”
“The Jegal clan? Then she’s a noble of high standing!”
“It seems there are complicated circumstances internally, but the details are unclear…”
“But why would a young lady soon to be wed come all the way here…?”
Lady Son shook her head—she did not know that either. The only certain fact was that the youthful girl who arrived today was indeed a Namgung.
With that, Geumsangho made a decision.
“Prepare the grandest dinner possible tonight, wife.”
“My lord—surely you’re not…”
“Yes. I intend to request that.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Thus, Sayeol’s group was treated with utmost hospitality—so much so that the entire city of Anhui could have belonged to the Namgung clan and it would not have seemed strange. Sayeol had known why from the moment they entered the village, but did not comment.
“Why does this make me so uneasy?”
Sohwa, always strangely perceptive, asked while helping Sayeol bathe. Sayeol thought again that it would be wise to teach Sohwa martial arts soon.
“What do you mean?”
“Well… Namgung status naturally earns respect, but this is too much.”
“Is it? Then why do you think they’re acting so excessively?”
“Hmmm…”
Sohwa washed Sayeol’s pale back with bathwater, contemplating deeply. Soon her eyes brightened with realization, and she whispered softly:
“Maybe they have a favor to ask?”
“That seems likely. The water is dirty.”
“Huh? The water?”
It looked clean enough, but Sayeol only laughed lightly. Not yet—but she would grow into a bright, sharp child. Teach her one thing and she would understand ten. When Sayeol chuckled softly, Sohwa pouted, asking why she was laughing.
The mature, resolute girl who told Sayeol to flee while she held off Jegal Hwangho was nowhere to be found. This was better—this was right.
“You do not ask me.”
“Ask what?”
“Why I’ve changed so much.”
“Well… that’s…”
Sohwa rubbed Sayeol’s shoulders and gazed up at the ceiling.
“It makes sense that you would.”
“Makes sense?”
“If this were Shaolin, you would have already attained Nirvana.”
Sayeol let out a small laugh. It sounded awkward, the way someone else might laugh—but Sohwa sensed she wasn’t displeased. Smiling in return, Sohwa finished bathing her and dressed her in the new clothes Hwayoung had prepared.
“The new clothes are still a bit loose. You’re too thin.”
“So there was a reason you kept ordering food at every inn.”
“You need to put on at least a bit more weight. It’s important for martial arts.”
“What is so important?”
Sohwa thumped her chest proudly.
“This body! A strong body!”
“That is true.”
Creak.
Just as Sohwa finished drying and dressing her, the door opened silently without warning. Hwayoung jumped in fright, dropping the silk in her hands.
“Who are you?!”
Sohwa, still holding the towel, momentarily froze at the sight of a man who was not merely neat but strikingly handsome. He shook his damp, messy hair once—almost like a dog.
“Wol, you’re dripping.”
“Mhm.”
“That’s the beggar?”
Sohwa asked Sayeol in disbelief. Sayeol, sitting calmly at the vanity, simply motioned with her hand—be quiet and sit still.
Wol obeyed, going to sit in the corner. Sohwa forced down her pounding heart and resumed combing Sayeol’s nearly-dry hair, whispering:
“People really do clean up well after a bath…”
“I suppose they gave him new clothes here.”
Wol was no longer wearing rags but a decent set of garments—not expensive, but compared to his beggar’s attire, they were like wings. They probably assumed he was from the Beggar’s Union or a guard hired by Sayeol.
He settled into a corner, clutching his sword, eyes closed. Sohwa glared at him, wondering if that bastard actually intended to sleep here, then noticed the sword wrapped in old cloth.
“It looks shabby, but… I don’t think it’s a bad sword.”
“You have good eyes.”
“Hehe… do I?”
Then Sohwa suddenly widened her eyes—she had forgotten something. The young lady still did not have a proper sword. They would need to get one soon. Namgung could provide one, but since they hadn’t thus far, they likely had no intention of doing so.
Maybe when we visit the academy, I should ask for one…
Sohwa opened her mouth to bring it up.
“Young lady—”
Sasasak—
Footsteps outside. They were not sneaking; they were lining up—exactly as Sohwa had guessed. They knelt before the door, arranged in neat rows, and spoke after steadying their voices.
“We apologize for coming so late, but may we request an audience?”
“Open the door.”
Sayeol answered calmly. Sohwa and Hwayoung opened the doors on each side. Kneeling outside were Geumsangho and Lady Son, with what appeared to be their children seated in rows behind them.
“We have come with an urgent request, even at this late hour.”
“What request justifies visiting at such a time, with such discourtesy?”
At Sayeol’s cold tone, Lady Son added hurriedly:
“We had no means to handle this ourselves… please forgive the offense.”
Sayeol turned to them. Their faces were pale with fear—something must have happened.
“We planned to speak of this tomorrow, but…”
Lady Son squeezed her eyes shut.
“A second corpse appeared…”
“A corpse, you say.”
Sayeol closed the lid of the vanity.
“Explain in detail.”
“It may sound unbelievable, but in our village of Myeongdo…”
Lady Son tightly shut her eyes.
“A ghost has appeared…!”
According to them, the strange corpses first appeared a week ago. A boatman found a body washed up on the riverbank—its mouth torn open all the way to the ears. The sight was so grotesque he fainted on the spot.
The face was so mutilated that it was impossible to tell who it had been. Assuming the victim was a traveler attacked by some fiend upriver, they quietly buried the body outside the village. But four days later, another body with both sides of its mouth ripped open appeared.
“…He was the blacksmith who lived on the west side of the village. A drunkard, not the best sort of man, but not someone who deserved to die like that.”
Geumsangho spoke in a heavy voice.
“One of our servants found him, so we quickly handled it. Rumors haven’t spread yet. But then…”
“Another corpse appeared?”
“Yes, we just received the report. And this time, there were witnesses…”
“Witnesses?”
“Yes. A servant boy from an inn that stays open late was sent out on an errand. When he didn’t return, they went looking—and found him like that…”
At that, Sohwa covered her mouth in shock.
