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Chapter 02
Before the King’s cold, lifeless body, Soheon, Lee Ham, and Jeong Hak-yeon each stood lost in their own thoughts. They were like mere points within a raging storm. The silence born of their individual fears and anxieties weighed upon the chamber as heavily as the dead monarch himself.
The silence felt almost alive. It crawled along the walls and ceiling, tightening around their throats. Even the faint crackle of the lamp’s wick seemed to vanish before it. Only fear reverberated in the stillness.
“Your Highness, I shall withdraw. I will ensure that no one comes near this place. When you are finished speaking, please summon me.”
“You have done well, Head Eunuch.”
When the Head Court Eunuch quietly stepped out, Councillor Jeong spoke at last. His voice was cautious, yet firm with resolve.
“Your Highness, we absolutely cannot announce His Majesty’s passing at this time. The Ming envoy will arrive soon. This visit will not be merely about tribute. The new Emperor is testing Joseon’s loyalty and internal stability. During this visit, the matter of Your Highness’s investiture will surely be raised again.”
Lee Ham continued in a low voice.
“If news of Father’s death spreads, they will judge Joseon to be in turmoil. The barbarians will seize the opportunity to harass our people, and Ming will gain justification to intervene. Diplomatically and militarily, we may find ourselves standing at the edge of a cliff.”
As Soheon listened, her hands slowly went numb with tension. She clenched them without realizing; her nails dug into her palms, yet she felt no pain. The terror of having witnessed the King’s death had paralyzed all her senses.
She quickly reconstructed the situation in her mind: a diplomatic crisis, the King’s death, and a plan to conceal it. A mere medical lady now stood at the heart of what could be deemed treason.
It felt as though the ground beneath her feet were collapsing. Joseon stood at the edge of a precipice—and she stood there with it. No matter what escape she imagined, the future she saw was nothing but dreadful.
Watching her, Councillor Jeong spoke carefully.
“The envoy will remain at least a week. During that time, His Majesty must appear to be alive.”
Soheon swallowed dryly.
Conceal the King’s death and make him appear alive? Was there truly such a medical art in this world? How could they ask this of her?
Her trembling lips barely formed the words.
“Your Excellency… to conceal His Majesty’s passing—what is that if not treason? This cannot be. How could someone like me dare such a thing? If it is discovered, what will become of me is obvious. I possess no such ability—and even if I did, I could not do it.”
Her voice grew smaller, freezing with fear.
Her gaze returned to the King’s pale face. Death rendered everything meaningless—power, honor, even the King’s very existence. And yet the weight of the dead now crushed the living. Tears welled in her eyes—not from grief, but from fear, despair, and the realization of an inescapable fate.
Lee Ham stepped forward and fixed his gaze on her. His eyes trembled with desperation. Then, as though making a sudden decision, he knelt before her.
“Medical Lady Yun, I know that if you join us, you too will be in danger. That is why you hesitate. But only you can protect my father now. There is no one else. Can you not help us?”
As his knees touched the floor, a tiny speck of dust rose and slowly settled again. Even that small particle seemed suffocated by the heavy air.
Soheon stared wide-eyed. The Crown Prince of a nation knelt before her.
Overwhelmed, she stepped back and quickly fell prostrate before him.
“Your Highness, this is too much! Please rise! How could someone like me possibly—why would you do this?”
Councillor Jeong gently helped the prince to his feet and stepped closer to Soheon, releasing a deep sigh.
“Medical Lady Yun, this is a time to choose what is necessary, not merely what is righteous. For a greater good, one must sometimes endure a lesser wrong.”
Soheon lowered her head, recalling her grandfather’s worn medical book.
Medicine must always be used to save lives.
The words pierced her heart. Her grandfather had devoted his life to saving the living. Medicine was meant to prolong life; it held no meaning for the dead.
And yet now she was being asked to conceal a death.
Was this truly right?
It felt as though invisible bloodstains were spreading across her hands. She longed to wash them away—but she could not. She wished desperately that this were a nightmare, but the cold air brushing her cheek proved otherwise.
“I too wish to save His Majesty. But how can one save the dead?”
At her trembling words, Lee Ham bowed his head deeply, fists clenched on his knees.
“Even if we cannot save him, we must protect him. We must conceal Father’s death at least until the envoy departs. I know you possess a certain secret method. Medical Lady Yun, please lend us your strength.”
At his plea, Councillor Jeong also bowed his head.
Their bowed figures were both a burden placed upon her and proof of their desperation.
The knowledge that the nation’s future now rested in her hands stole her breath. She had spent her life treating illnesses—not determining the fate of a kingdom.
“Medical Lady Yun,” Councillor Jeong said quietly, “if this succeeds, you too will be remembered as one who saved Joseon. But if we do not even attempt it, we may all one day be recorded as traitors in history. We walk this path for the sake of the people. The longer you delay, the more His Majesty’s condition will deteriorate.”
Her heart churned with pitch-black fear and doubt.
Then her gaze fell upon the slender silver acupuncture case beside her medicine chest. Worn smooth from years of use, it gleamed softly—as if waiting for her decision.
It was her grandfather’s heirloom.
And now it stood on the brink of being used not to heal the living, but to conceal the dead.
With such turmoil in her heart, she did not wish to touch it.
Has the time truly come… to use that forbidden method?
At last, Soheon opened her lips. Her voice was so small it was nearly inaudible—but its content was enough to seize the attention of both men.
“There… is a method I know. But it is not something that can be spoken of lightly.”
“Is that so? What method?”
Councillor Jeong turned sharply toward her. He had faced countless crises as Left State Councillor, but never had he felt such urgency. Desperation and fear flickered in his eyes.
He swallowed hard. His palms were drenched in sweat. The fate of everyone in this chamber—no, of Joseon itself—rested upon this single woman’s words.
His heart pounded like a drum, louder than when the King’s death had been confirmed.
“The method I know is…”
