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Chapter 105
I was shocked—but only for a moment.
‘What on earth are you doing right now?’
Along with my alarm, anger welled up inside me. I was letting him live a good life, and this is how he reacts?
I even told him that if I got my hands on the Imperial treasure, I would use up all my remaining lifespan to heal him before going home.
All my father had to do was stay alive until then. Whether he lost his memories or not, that was all.
I glared at him without bothering to be polite anymore. Once I stopped thinking of him as my father, it became much easier to face him.
“Please move.”
“…I’d like to, but it seems I can’t.”
Whoosh— The wind stirred. The same cool breeze that had always surrounded him, sometimes even protected me.
“For some reason, my power is running wild.”
The wind actually began to grow stronger, making it impossible for me to take another step forward.
I tried to walk around him, but it was useless.
Wow. Was my body really that light now, that I staggered just from a breeze like this? How unfair.
“Then stop using your power, sir.”
“If I could, I would’ve already.”
His tone had softened slightly, but he was still just as stubborn and shameless as before.
‘Right. People don’t change that easily.’
After all, he was the same person; he couldn’t have changed completely.
That realization only made my anger flare up again.
“What does any of this have to do with me? I’m going home!”
“And I’m sorry, but… like I said, I don’t know why, yet something tells me I can’t just let you go.”
He spoke gently, but it was pure obstinacy. I glared at him once more.
When we first met, he threatened me. And now he’s holding me back and refusing to let me leave?
Even without his memories, he was still an infuriating man.
“So again, what does that have to do with me?”
“A few days ago, after I saw you here for the first time… I went home and found something strange in my records.”
I froze mid-retort.
Well, since the wind kept me from walking away anyway, I might as well hear him out.
If, after listening, he still refused to let me go—then I’d send Bambi (the snake) after him, or scream for my uncle to come running.
“…Records?”
I wasn’t that curious, but I answered out of politeness.
“Yes.”
He stretched out his hand. The wind hissed and carried something toward him—a small notebook that settled into his palm.
Honestly, that thing didn’t suit him at all.
Even back when we got along, he’d always seemed like someone too bored and detached to keep notes or write anything down.
Books, records, notebooks—they just didn’t fit him.
He held out the rather thick notebook toward me.
“It’s old, but… if you read this, I hope you’ll understand why I’m acting this way.”
Like a wary cat with its fur bristled, I took it gingerly, touching it only with my fingertips.
He frowned slightly at how cautious I was, but only for a second.
“…Fine. I’ll read it. But once I’m done, you’ll let me go.”
“The power that’s holding you now isn’t something I’m consciously using.”
“Still, try harder. Aren’t adults supposed to take responsibility for their powers?”
“…I will try.”
He looked momentarily flustered, then nodded. Only then did I feel safe enough to open the notebook.
‘What… is this?’
The more I flipped through, the stiffer my expression became.
‘These are… medicinal formulas? No, more than that—detailed medical records… brilliant ones!’
I snapped the notebook shut with a slap and stared at the cover again. There was nothing on the front. I turned it over—and there it was.
[Medical Saint, Baek Arin]
I didn’t recognize the handwriting, but it matched the writing inside.
And it was also my mother’s name.
‘Mom’s notes…?’
It felt like I was seeing a piece of my mother for the first time—not in portraits or through my father’s memories, but in real life.
‘Wait—this isn’t the time for sentimentality.’
Why had he suddenly given me my mother’s notebook? And what did that have to do with him stopping me?
I glanced at him cautiously.
“…I read it.”
“You haven’t finished yet.”
He looked down at me impassively. It seemed I wouldn’t be allowed to leave until I read the whole thing.
So I opened it again.
The pages were packed tight with detailed records of diseases and medicines—so thorough it amazed me even on a second look.
There were illnesses I recognized, but the remedies used were ones I’d never even considered.
To be honest, after three lifetimes and becoming the empire’s best physician, I’d thought quite highly of myself. But these records humbled me.
“…How far am I supposed to read?”
I muttered under my breath as I neared the back of the notebook.
My mother must’ve been incredibly diligent—the amount of writing was substantial.
Then, near the end, the records abruptly stopped.
Just as I was flipping through the last few blank pages, I froze again.
[I will no longer leave records.]
I hurriedly turned back to compare it with my mother’s writing. Completely different.
And I had seen this handwriting before.
“When we were naming you, Arin wanted this kind of character. I said anything was fine.”
Just four days ago, when my father had regained all his memories, he’d told me that as he drew the letters of my name in the dirt.
It was the same handwriting.
I held my breath.
“That notebook was in my room,” he said quietly. “Right where I’d see it first.”
I couldn’t lift my head. My hands trembled as I held the notebook, but I kept turning the pages.
[But now, perhaps I must record something. Though clumsy, I will try. Behind my wife’s precious notes.]
The neat yet slightly slanted handwriting looked so mature, so unmistakably his.
It felt like I could almost see the man who had regained his memories and spoken so gently to me.
My heart, which had barely calmed down, started pounding irregularly again. I hated that feeling.
I shouldn’t turn the next page.
If I did, I knew I’d regret it.
But my hand betrayed me, and the paper flipped.
[Things I must not forget.]
Below that, the next lines were pressed into the paper with deep, deliberate force.
[I have a daughter.]
[I have a wife.]
[Someday, I may forget my daughter.]
[But if that happens…]
My hands trembled so badly the pages rustled visibly, but I couldn’t stop.
[Then what meaning would this life have left?]
When I looked up from those words, tears were already spilling down my cheeks.
I felt resentment.
“…”
You… you make it impossible for me to even hate you.
But I couldn’t cry the way I used to. My chest just ached—deep and raw.
‘He knew.’
Even if he didn’t know the exact name of his illness, he’d realized that someday he might forget me again.
That night, after he’d regained his memories and we’d talked for hours while I drifted to sleep—
Father… no, you. What were you thinking then?
“My daughter, I love you.”
“It’s what your mother always said. And I feel the same.”
Father, if I have one regret—
It’s that on that day, when our hearts finally connected, I didn’t say I loved you back.
I thought I couldn’t. Because I’d never really had a father before, and didn’t even know what love was.
But looking back—
The joy I felt watching you recover your memories, even at the cost of your own life—
That was love.
And now, maybe that day will never come again.
Even if it does… I don’t think I could say it easily.
Who could’ve known that was our first and last chance?
I wiped my tears roughly with my sleeve.
Before me stood the man.
No longer my father.
I blinked the moisture from my eyes and smiled faintly.
“You probably don’t remember…”
Was that why he’d come to my uncle’s house every night lately—because he’d seen the records?
He must have read them and guessed that I was his daughter.
But I didn’t say that aloud.
“Sir, you and I have a contract.”
“…”
His expression shifted, faintly uncertain—clearly not the reaction I expected. Fine then. If he wouldn’t let me go, for whatever reason—
I could play along.
“I’m a doctor who takes my promises seriously. I’ll honor our agreement… as long as you cooperate with me.”
He stayed silent, listening carefully. I looked down at the notebook again, then up at him.
I didn’t know why I said it—but my voice came out calm and steady.
“…I once used up part of my lifespan to heal you.”
