Kindred Sorrow
By the time Yu Baekheon had left the Dang Clan, three days had already passed, yet Dang Gangjin still felt as if he were adrift in the middle of a black, endless sea.
The Alliance Leader’s grand cause, though it demanded terrible sacrifices, was meant to raise up the fading banner of justice once more.
And yet they stood against him in the name of refusing oppression.
Would it be steadfast righteousness under a stern and unyielding law?
Or a righteousness that fluttered, half-collapsed, under the banner of freedom?
It was not a matter of right or wrong, but of conviction; neither side would easily yield.
Blood will flow soon. Enough to drown the Central Plains and spill beyond them.
When that day came, would he be able to unleash killer intent upon them without hesitation?
As that thought kept tangling itself around the next, another worry he had almost forgotten suddenly shoved its way in.
"Young Clan Leader. Elder Hong Chilsong says he intends to leave now. What should we do?"
The black waves that had carried him vanished all at once, and he seemed to plunge downward as though the ground had fallen out from under him.
He had kept Hong Chilsong here for three days with no proper reason. At this point, there was nothing to be done.
"Tell him I will come see him shortly."
"Yes, sir."
He let out a thin sigh, set his hands on his knees, and slowly rose to his feet.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to say to Father.
---
After quickly washing his face, he stepped outside and had only walked a short distance before coming upon a group gathered together.
Hong Chilsong, Cheongwol, Ak Seo-ah, and Seomun Hwi.
And his younger sister, Dang Sohye.
"He was no easy opponent, was he?"
Hong Chilsong, the first to notice him, greeted him with an awkward smile.
"If you knew he was in Sichuan, you could have told me beforehand."
Dang Gangjin gave a crooked grin and shook his head.
They both knew why he had been unable to say anything on account of the Beggar Sect, so there was no real bitterness in the words.
"I never would have guessed you’d come to the Dang Clan alone."
While the two of them exchanged words, Cheongwol recalled the old man who had stood up for her unreasonable demands.
She had thought him no ordinary elder, but to think he had actually been the Alliance Leader of the Murim Alliance.
She quietly turned her head and looked at Seomun Hwi standing beside her.
From what Unhak had told her, the ones who stood opposed to that old man were the Seomun Clan.
Which meant that, by some strange twist of fate, she had learned from the enemy of Seomun Hwi.
Just as her mood was beginning to grow complicated, Dang Gangjin gently took her hand.
"It would have been nice to know who the owner of the jewel I brought actually was. Letting you go like this makes me feel rather dissatisfied."
It was unexpected, but the warmth in his voice made Cheongwol smile faintly as well.
"Please don’t say that. Thanks to Young Clan Leader, I was able to stay so comfortably."
"Young Clan Leader? You should call me older brother."
Though the scene was heartwarming, Seomun Hwi and Ak Seo-ah both hardened their expressions.
"Young Clan Leader, is it really proper to hold the hand of a woman who already has a betrothed?"
"Older brother, it would be best to avoid saying things that might cause misunderstandings."
He knew exactly what the two of them were worried about, but Dang Gangjin was helpless as well.
Whenever he looked at Cheongwol, what was he supposed to do about the inexplicable pity that welled up in him?
Ignoring the sharp eyes turned on him, he reached into his robes and took out a small pendant, placing it carefully in Cheongwol’s hand.
The edges were framed with fine silver thread, and the tassel hung straight in a clear jade-green.
"I had only enough time to prepare something like this."
Inside the knot was a small jewel, finely engraved with a flower pattern he had seen somewhere before.
"Older brother..."
"You only call me that after receiving a jewel? If so, then next time I’ll prepare something far more precious."
Dang Gangjin deliberately spoke in a teasing tone, then gently patted Cheongwol’s head, which had bowed deeply.
"Don’t think of this as a connection that only brushed by for an instant. If you ever run into trouble, come find me anytime."
Why was he being so kind to someone who was practically a stranger?
"...Do you want something from me, perhaps?"
Unlike Seomun Hwi, she could feel no trace of selfish desire in the hand that rested on her head, and that only made her curious enough to ask.
Dang Gangjin drew a quiet breath, just as he was about to speak.
"Clan Leader has returned home with the Namgung Clan’s Leader!"
A shout announcing the arrival of Dang Hyeongeuk and Namgung Cheon rang out from far away.
---
On the day he faced his wife’s body, cold and already stiff with death, emotions he had never known before surged back through him and tore his body apart from within.
Had he cried out until his throat broke?
Or had he simply let everything go?
He no longer knew which it had been. When he came to himself, he was sitting beside his wife’s grave.
Hadn’t the two of them once joined hands and vowed to spend their whole lives together?
Then why had she gone first?
What was he supposed to do, left alone like this?
He had no tears left to shed, so he only clung to the grave and made broken, choking sounds.
After losing consciousness and waking again several more times like that, a sword was drawn from its scabbard with a soft shrrk.
Even though he had held a sword in his hand all his life, when it came to the one he had truly needed to protect, he had been unable to raise it.
So what meaning could there be in carrying it any longer?
As though the sword itself had sensed its end, it caught the moonlight and began to tremble mournfully.
Since this was the parting of old companions, he ought to show proper respect.
Slowly, he wrapped his palm around the blade. A chill climbed up his spine and settled at the nape of his neck.
Red blood ran down the sword’s edge, but he had no intention of letting go until his companion was satisfied.
Just as the waning moon was being swallowed by clouds, until even the faintest light seemed ready to vanish.
From somewhere, he heard the sorrowful wail of a newborn child.
He dropped the sword without realizing it, but he had no time to care.
My son with Garyeong.
Are you alive and searching for me?
Or are you beside your mother, cursing your useless father?
He followed the source of the crying and wandered blindly through the mountains.
He did not know how long he walked. His toenails broke off one by one, blood running from them, but what parent would stop when their child was crying so heartbreakingly?
After combing through the entire mountain, chasing the sound of the weeping until at last he reached the place—
...
He trudged back, then collapsed beside his wife’s grave.
If he closed his eyes like this, then before long he would surely meet his beloved wife and child again.
But if the enemy had not killed the child—
If the child was still alive somewhere in the Central Plains—
Grrr... hic...
A pain as though his heart were melting dripped from his mouth in broken sounds.
Garyeong, Garyeong.
I want nothing more than to die beside you at once, but I will put it off just a little longer.
When our child comes home, how miserable and lonely would it be if both parents were already gone from this world?
So wait a little longer.
If you don’t wish to be with me, then from this moment on you’d better run hard.
Because in the afterlife, I have no intention of ever letting you out of my side.
---
After covering over the scar that had never truly healed, he once again met each day with an expression as calm as if nothing had happened.
For the first season that turned, he dreamed every night.
His wife, soaked in blood, staring silently at him.
Beside her, the child crying as though to remind him of the sin he had committed once more.
Some might have called them nightmares, but he was afraid he might never dream them again.
Only in dreams could he look upon the ones he missed whenever he wished.
Three or four more seasons passed.
The scar remained, but its pain had lost its edge.
He smiled when there was joy and stayed silent when there was sorrow.
Just as he was growing used to enduring despair like that—
Before he knew it, others were standing guard by his side.
The wife he had taken in to carry on the clan line, giving not a single bit of his heart in return.
The son whose infancy he had scarcely seen at all, so consumed was he with trying to hide his grief.
"Father. Mother asked if you might join us for a meal today."
That son had pushed the door open with some effort and stood there hesitantly, watching his father’s face.
In the past, he would have said he’d eat separately without a moment’s thought.
He had already done so many times that the boy had come to look down at his toes, waiting for words no different from being told to leave.
That face—sad, yet still clinging to a shred of hope—was so hard to bear that his eyes stung before he realized it.
He had failed to protect someone precious and lost them, and now he was repeating the same mistake again.
Forcing down the lump in his throat, he strode forward and scooped his son up in his arms.
Those days steeped in sorrow and regret could never be undone now, but it was still possible to stop such moments from happening again.
How grateful he was for that.
Feeling an immense relief, he hugged the boy’s small head tightly.
Yes. Let’s do that.
---
If you are alive, then live safely, smile, and be happy.
If you are dead, then in the afterlife, live with your mother and run through flower fields to your heart’s content.
You came to me through fate, but only for an instant, so my sorrow for you should not be that deep.
Perhaps, in a way, that is fortunate too.
I need not bear this pain together with you.
My son, my first child.
Now I will bury you gently in the deepest place within me.
But do not feel wronged.
I have never forgotten you.
On the day my breath finally ends, you and your mother—
The three of us will walk hand in hand together.
With no sorrow and no worry, only smiling as we go.
Along a road of flowers stretching on forever...
---