I Knew What Would Happen
It took a full half-day just to fetch shovels from each of our storage sheds, gather the corpses, and bury them in the ground. Having helped Dokgo Rin with every ounce of my strength and heart, I quietly prayed for the souls of the Dokgo Clan members—who had done so much for me—to find peace in the afterlife.
“What are you going to do now?”
At Gyeong-a’s question after she had watched the entire process, Dokgo Rin rose from her spot in front of the makeshift tombstone and answered.
“Before heading to the Tang Clan, I’ll stop by the village for a bit. We can’t just leave the other bodies as they are, so I’ll pay the villagers to bury them.”
“...I see.”
After murmuring those words, Gyeong-a clutched the necklace Dokgo Seok had given her in front of his tombstone, then broke into a bright, determined smile.
“I’m thinking of returning to my hometown.”
Hearing that, Dokgo Rin replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “That’s good to hear.”
“If what the young master wanted—as you both said—was for me to be happy, then I’ll do everything I can to be happy. And while I’m at it, I plan to look after the madam and the child in her womb.”
I was taken aback. “The second young master had a child?”
“Yes. We never told the main family, but she became pregnant not long ago. He was going to announce it while attending the young lady’s birthday celebration. But then things turned out like this...”
“At least the Dokgo Clan’s bloodline hasn’t been completely severed.”
As I spoke, I glanced sideways at Dokgo Rin. This was the first she was hearing about having a nephew, and her expression looked slightly dazed.
“You and the young lady can visit Hyeonreung anytime. I’ll introduce you to our madam. She lives right next door.”
“Um... what’s my nephew’s name?”
At Dokgo Rin’s careful question, Gyeong-a shrugged. “Cheol. Dokgo Cheol. The young master named him himself, saying the boy should grow up to become someone greater than him.”
“Dokgo Cheol...”
Dokgo Rin rolled the name of her nephew on her tongue once more, then nodded. “Then I’ll come see him later. I’m curious about my nephew’s face too.”
“Got it. Then I’ll be on my way. Both of you take care of yourselves, all right?”
“We will. You too, Gyeong-a.”
With those final words, Gyeong-a waved and departed. It would likely be a long time before we saw each other again.
After watching Gyeong-a leave, now that only the two of us remained, Dokgo Rin turned to me.
“Then let’s go, Chilbok.”
“Yes, Miss.”
“...By the way, how long are you going to keep calling me Miss? We’re not in an employer-employee relationship anymore.”
“That’s true, but the word ‘Miss’ has already stuck with me.”
Dokgo Rin stared at me with an exasperated look, then let out a small sigh.
“Fine. Do whatever’s comfortable for you.”
Before heading to the Sichuan Tang Clan, we stopped by the village for a while and explained the full story to the residents. Afterward, Dokgo Rin bowed deeply to them and asked that they take anything of value from the ruins but please bury the bodies of her family. The villagers, who had received so many kindnesses from the Dokgo Clan over the years, had no reason to refuse. Thanks to that, we were able to leave the village with lighter hearts.
“Miss, how long does it take to reach the Sichuan Tang Clan?”
“Roughly a week on foot.”
“Then we’d better stock up on as much food as possible.”
“Probably. If it comes down to it, we can always hunt wild animals to eat.”
Before setting out on our proper journey, we went around the village shops buying necessary supplies and provisions. For emergency rations we only purchased some jerky and a few versatile items, since we already had the fasting pills we’d taken from the secret training ground. The village merchants were horrified when we tried to pay them and refused the money outright—an indirect reminder of just how well the Dokgo Clan had treated these people.
After visiting several shops together, the last place we stopped was the clinic of Elder Eom Baek-hyeon, the man I had been indebted to ever since first possessing this body.
“That rascal of a kid has become quite the proper young man while this old eye wasn’t looking.”
“I’ve gotten older too, after all.”
“Here, I don’t need the money, so just take these.”
Elder Eom Baek-hyeon handed over the wound medicine and pills we had ordered. Then he looked at Dokgo Rin beside me, his face clouding with sorrow.
“What happened to your family is truly tragic, Miss. I’m sure everyone in the village feels the same as I do.”
“...Thank you.”
“If you ever face hardship later, please return to Sangam anytime. Everyone will surely welcome you with open arms.”
With those words, Eom Baek-hyeon gazed at Dokgo Rin with deep concern before turning to me.
“Chilbok, take good care of the young lady.”
“I was planning to do exactly that.”
After gathering the medicines and thanking Elder Eom Baek-hyeon once more, I left the clinic together with Dokgo Rin.
The Sichuan Tang Clan. One of the great powers representing Sichuan Province. The Dokgo Clan that had settled in Sangam was fairly large, but it couldn’t compare to the Sichuan Tang Clan, which even had an entire clan village called Dangata surrounding its grounds.
The most distinctive feature of the Sichuan Tang Clan was that they were the only righteous faction to specialize in poison and hidden weapons. For this reason, they were often openly regarded as sinister by other members of the righteous path.
And standing at the very peak of that clan was its sixth patriarch, the Poison King Tang Ho-chang—one of the Ten Great Masters of the World alongside figures such as the Absolute Sword. As his title suggested, he was versed in every kind of poison imaginable.
In the original novel The Heavenly Poison Witch, unlike other murim warriors who knew nothing of Dokgo Rin’s circumstances, Tang Ho-chang understood his granddaughter’s broken heart and tried to set the wrong things right, only to fail in the end. In other words, he could be considered one of the few characters in the original story who stood on Dokgo Rin’s side.
“Huff... huff...”
On the road from my hometown of Sangam to Chengdu, the heart of Sichuan Province. I had wondered why it took a whole week to travel within the same region, but experiencing it firsthand made everything clear. Sichuan had far too many mountains. Just when a downhill stretch offered a moment of relief, another uphill would appear. You’d barely crest one ridge only to find another waiting ahead, and the few flat sections were painfully short.
After climbing a particularly steep incline while gasping for breath, a vast mountain range unfolded before my eyes. Countless peaks wrapped in a sea of clouds—it was enough to make the old saying “layer upon layer of mountains” rise unbidden in my mind.
“Wow.”
I stood there staring blankly until Dokgo Rin, who had climbed the slope after me, also stopped and took in the same breathtaking view.
“Miss, should we eat here before continuing?”
“Already?”
“We left the inn this morning and quite a bit of time has passed. It wouldn’t be strange for our stomachs to start complaining soon.”
“All right. We’ll do as you suggest, Chilbok.”
The slightly early lunch we shared was eaten while perched on a rock along the ridge. The rice balls were stuffed with pickled vegetables, making them perfect to eat without any other side dishes. We devoured them in the blink of an eye, then leaned our shoulders against each other and savored a sweet, honey-like rest.
It was after we had been sitting with our eyes closed for some time.
“Chilbok.”
“Yes?”
“I’m saying this now, but thank you for staying by my side.”
“...You really are saying it now, of all times.”
“I felt like if I didn’t say it now, I might never get the chance. I’ve always been the type who gets embarrassed about these things.”
As Dokgo Rin spoke, she took my hand. Though my eyes were closed, her warmth came through clearly.
I organized my thoughts for a moment before speaking.
“The reason I stayed by your side isn’t just because I was worried about you, Miss. Ultimately, it’s for my own sake as well.”
“What do you mean?”
“I understand why Gyeong-a said she wanted revenge. She must have been furious enough to die. Furious at herself for being unable to offer any resistance against those who trampled on other people’s precious things without a second thought, simply because they held power.”
That was why I felt pathetic toward myself. Why hadn’t I prepared more diligently? Why had I only lived a complacent, peaceful daily life? Why hadn’t I stayed vigilant even after feeling that something was off? Why, why, why—only belated regrets kept spinning through my head.
If I hadn’t kept this information to myself and had told others, couldn’t I have saved even one more person?
Of course, it was undeniable that they were like natural disasters. Even without Wiji Cheon, they had single-handedly attacked and annihilated the Dokgo Clan, which still had Dokgo Jin—a master in the Transcendent realm—holding the fort.
Yet all sorts of hypotheticals kept rising in my mind, making me wonder whether I could have saved them. This must be what people called guilt.
“So this is my atonement.”
Atonement for having known everything yet simply letting events flow as they would. After muttering those words to myself, I opened my eyes and looked at Dokgo Rin beside me. Sensing my gaze, she opened her own eyes and stared back.
Would my heart feel lighter if I confessed all my secrets to her right here? Giving in to that impulsive urge, I revealed the most important secret I had kept hidden until now.