The Tomb of the Living

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Ouyang Qiangang's words and bearing were the very picture of calm.

The soldiers were thrown off balance by a reaction so ill-suited to the situation, but that bewilderment lasted, quite literally, only a moment. The one who appeared to be their leader drew his sword, leveled it at Ouyang Qiangang, and shouted, "You're a dead man! How dare you lay a hand upon Her Highness's sacred body! Don't you move!"

'Akasha, scan and memorize everything at the scene.'

'I'll tell you later.'

An almost imperceptible smile flickered across Ouyang Qiangang's lips.

A few of Sohwa Palace's maids, watching the scene from a distance, tilted their heads. Something about it felt wrong. Above all, the man being branded the culprit was far too composed—as if he had anticipated every last detail.

Princess Sohwa clutched the outer robe her maids had hastily draped over her, tears dripping down her cheeks as her whole body shook like an aspen leaf.

"Sob... How could such a thing happen..."

Her face was contorted with terror and despair. To all appearances, she was every bit the victim of a truly horrific ordeal.

Then Princess Sohwa cried out in a trembling voice. "That... that man suddenly threw himself at me like a beast...! I was so frightened... scared to death...!"

But in that very instant, Ouyang Qiangang caught it—a cruel glint of victory that flashed through the depths of her eyes like lightning.

Princess Sohwa shrieked, her voice thick with theatrical passion. "What are you all standing there for?! Strike off that man's head at once! He tried to violate me!"

Her fury shook Sohwa Palace to its rafters, but the soldiers could not simply swing their swords at will. They, too, knew that Hahu Gang was treating Princess Myeonghwa and stood high in Emperor Changsung's trust.

Ouyang Qiangang rose slowly to his feet.

'Akasha, you're recording the positions and reactions of every witness as well, aren't you?'

Ouyang Qiangang nodded inwardly.

The soldiers' leader spoke as though he had finally made up his mind. "Young Master Hahu, we must bind you with rope for the time being. Please do not resist."

"Understood."

Ouyang Qiangang's composure was so complete that it unnerved the soldiers instead.

The rope wound tight around his wrists.

"Sob... It was terrifying..."

Princess Sohwa went on weeping, her body still trembling. Ouyang Qiangang turned to look at her—and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠smiled. Then, with a courteous bow of his head, he said, "You've worked so hard, Your Highness."

The moment the meaning buried in those words reached her, Princess Sohwa's face froze solid. She gritted her teeth.

'Hahu Gang... You will never crawl out of this trap.'

Yet as Ouyang Qiangang was led out of Sohwa Palace, hemmed in by soldiers on every side, the smile never left his lips.

Before the palace's main gate, Jo Il-san and Muk Wi-jin stared blankly at his receding back, confusion clouding their eyes.

Jo Il-san heaved a sigh deep enough to swallow the earth and muttered, "What in the world is going on... They say you can see ten fathoms into the water, but not an inch into a man's heart..."

Muk Wi-jin glanced around them, then asked with a perfectly blank face, "Pretty boy, do you actually believe Young Master Hahu tried to violate the Princess?"

"Bear cub... there are more than a dozen witnesses. And I saw the Princess's torn clothes and her tears with my own two eyes."

Publicly, the two were known as the sons of rival faction leaders; in truth, they were the closest of childhood friends, each without equal in the other's world. Naturally, only a handful of people knew of it.

Muk Wi-jin murmured, his tone heavy. "Not everything you see is the truth."

"Bear cub, you're telling me you think it didn't happen?"

"Young Master Hahu is no madman."

Conviction rang in Muk Wi-jin's voice as he pressed on. "He holds His Majesty's trust, and less than ten days remain of the deadline he swore to cure Princess Myeonghwa within. And at a moment like this, he tries to violate Princess Sohwa? However blinded a man might be by the Princess's beauty, no one in his right mind would do such a thing."

A deep furrow carved itself between Jo Il-san's brows. "Hm... so even a bear cub talks sense now and then."

At that grudging admission, Muk Wi-jin's gaze hardened. "Pretty boy, this is not the simple matter it appears to be."

"Hmm..."

Silence hung between them for a moment. Then Muk Wi-jin continued.

"Young Master Hahu's last expression was a strange one."

"In what way?"

"He didn't look wronged, or even angry. But neither did he look like a man confessing guilt. He simply wore an eerie little smile—as though he had foreseen every bit of it."

Jo Il-san's eyes widened. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know. But something is off... It feels as though something extraordinarily tangled lies behind this affair."

Jo Il-san let out a long sigh. "What will you tell your father?"

"I can't tell him everything. But I should at least pass on that something about this case doesn't add up. And you?"

"The same. If I rush to Hahu Gang's defense, I'll only reap my father's distrust."

Their eyes met.

"See you later."

"Indeed."

With that, the two parted, striding swiftly off in opposite directions.

The rumor that Hahu Gang, the Life-and-Death Divine Doctor, had attempted to violate Princess Sohwa spread through the palace—quietly, yet at an unstoppable pace. The Crown Prince's faction fanned the flames of public opinion, crying that a charlatan of unknown pedigree had defiled the imperial family, while the Second Prince's faction looked on in stunned silence.

Emperor Changsung, having seen his daughter's tears, raged. However many dubious corners the case contained, the victim was his own flesh and blood. By his command, Ouyang Qiangang was thrown into the deepest pit of the imperial dungeon.

Sangguan Wan'er was stricken with disbelief when the news reached her. Something beyond imagination had come to pass. She went straightaway to Grand Academician Mun Hong-seo, but his answer was despair itself.

"Manor Lord, this matter is entangled with His Majesty's wrath. No plea will avail us now. Move rashly, and the whole of Myriad Gold Mountain Manor could be branded a traitor's confederate. For the present, we have no choice but to lie low and bide our time."

When she returned to Yeomga Manor, Yeom Pung was waiting, his face dark with fury.

"Wan'er, I'd sooner tear the dungeon apart with my own two hands and bring the young master out!"

"Uncle!"

Sangguan Wan'er threw herself into stopping him. "That would be... killing him a second time!"

At last, the tears she had been holding back spilled down her cheeks. Before the towering walls of the imperial palace, they were utterly, helplessly powerless.

That afternoon. The imperial dungeon.

Carved thirty feet beneath the earth, this stone-cavern prison was known as a tomb for the living. In a darkness no ray of sunlight had ever touched, a single oil lamp on the wall cast its flickering light upon despair. The damp stone walls stung the nose with decades of soaked-in moss and mold, and across their surface countless scratches—like marks clawed out by fingernails—scored the stone. From far off came the faint moans of other prisoners and the scrape of chains dragging over ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the floor, a constant reminder that this place marked the border between the living and the dead.

Plop... plop... plop...

In the midst of that steady rhythm—the only sound, water dripping from the ceiling into puddles on the floor—sat Ouyang Qiangang. Strangely, in the man seated on the frozen-cold floor, all four limbs bound in chains anchored to the walls, there was not the slightest trace of unease to be found.

Clank— screeeech—

With the sound of a lock giving way, the dungeon's iron door groaned open, and a man stepped inside, a bamboo hat shading his head, his face veiled in silk gauze. His frame was gaunt as a patient in the grip of grave illness, yet from his whole being radiated a steadfast spirit, like bamboo that refuses to break.

Ouyang Qiangang knew at a glance that it was Crown Prince Han Do. His build was so singular within the palace walls that mistaking him was impossible.

The Crown Prince surveyed his surroundings and spoke slowly. "A dark, damp place. In such places, truth comes to wear the face of lies, and lies the face of truth."

Clank— clank—

Dragging his chains, Ouyang Qiangang rose from his seat and offered a cupped-fist salute. "To what do I owe the honor of His Highness the Crown Prince visiting such a squalid place?"

An intense light kindled in the Crown Prince's eyes. It was not internal energy, but the pure power of the spirit itself. Meeting that gaze, Ouyang Qiangang realized that he and Akasha might have misjudged this man. A man with eyes like these would never lie down and be taken in by another's scheme.

'Akasha, it seems the Crown Prince knew about the conspiracy surrounding him all along.'

'Just a gut feeling.'

Then the Crown Prince spoke. "I heard you tried to violate Sohwa. Is it true?"

"No," Ouyang Qiangang replied, his tone flat and untroubled.

The Crown Prince nodded without a moment's hesitation. "I thought as much. I did not believe it. Nor will Father."

Silence settled between them. The lamplight wove flickering shadows across both their faces.

"What brings you here, then?"

"There is something I wish to discuss with you."

Ouyang Qiangang's eyes sharpened. "You mean to propose that those who share a common enemy join hands?"

"Sharp as ever."

The Crown Prince took a step closer.

Ouyang Qiangang asked without warning, "Your Highness—do you know of the foreign object lodged in your heart?"

The Crown Prince's eyes flew wide. Astonishment and something like reverence rose on his face at once.

"...You even know of that. You truly deserve to be called the Life-and-Death Divine Doctor."

"Your illness could never have manifested without help from someone on the inside. It is the work of hands of almost unbelievable precision."

Ouyang Qiangang went on in an even voice. "Which means, Your Highness, that you have an enemy at your closest side."

As if the words had struck him bodily, the Crown Prince's eyes widened and his shoulders gave the faintest tremble. "Are you saying... you know who it is?"

"The culprit must be someone who has stood at Your Highness's side for thirty years without once drawing suspicion. Someone who also holds the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠power to control everything you are. Within the palace, few meet those conditions. No—only one person does."

At Ouyang Qiangang's words, the Crown Prince opened his mouth, his face twisted with anguish.

"Say no more..."