Chapter 97
I climbed into the carriage in a daze. Namgung Ryu-cheong snapped his book shut with a thud. As he set it aside, I caught a glimpse of the title—it looked like a book on military strategy.
"Why are you so late?"
"Why are you here?"
"Is there a reason I can't go?"
"No... but you said you weren't coming."
"I changed my mind."
Fine. What could I do about it?
Namgung Ryu-cheong turned to the madam and said, "Mother, stop with the weird tricks and get in."
Weird tricks? Puzzled, I looked at him, and he explained flatly, "It's Mother's tactic. She acts upset to make you feel indebted, then gets her way."
My jaw dropped. A whirlwind of thoughts hit me.
So the madam's hurt expression was all an act? But... saying that right in front of her?
Whether it was true or not, the madam looked a bit flustered and mildly displeased. But she quickly composed herself, her face clouding over with feigned sorrow.
"Ryu-cheong, how can you say such things like that? Yeon-ah, it's not true at all."
"Don't fall for it."
The madam bit her lip softly. No, this guy—
"Hold on! Don't make that pretty face frown!"
Namgung Ryu-cheong stared at me like I was absurd. I flashed a bright smile at the madam.
"Come on up!"
The ride to Cheonam Temple was remarkably comfortable. The carriage didn't look flashy from the outside, but inside it was spacious enough for three, with layers of soft cushions making it plush. Even better, there was an intricately designed heater in the center for ventilation. With its gentle warmth, opening the windows didn't let in much chill.
I chatted with the madam while peering out at the scenery. Unlike me, Namgung Ryu-cheong spent the whole trip buried in his book.
Why come along just to read at home comfortably?
I glanced at him and asked, "Ryu-cheong, no motion sickness?"
"Nope."
"Lucky you."
Reading in a carriage—must be nice. I'd suffered from it badly until gobbling those spirit pills in the Manshin-ui pill room pretty much cured me. Still, I couldn't read through it.
"Fun read?"
"Yeah."
"...Okayyy."
The madam, who'd been watching us, spoke up. "Come to think of it, Yeon-ah, you looked upset when you came from your quarters. What happened?"
"When I came?"
"From your room."
"Oh! I got scolded. By Father. For not tidying up."
My tone came out a bit sulky despite myself. The madam tilted her head slightly.
"Tidying up?"
"Yes."
"Looks like the maids aren't doing their jobs. I'll have someone else assigned."
I waved my hands in panic. "No, no! They're great. It's just... we agreed to clean our own rooms."
"Oh, the young master... does that himself?"
The madam glanced at Namgung Ryu-cheong in surprise. "Our Cheong-ie has probably never even sharpened his own inkstick."
Cheong-ie—that was the madam's pet name for him, dripping with affection. And implying he never lifted a finger.
The picture-perfect rich young master.
No wonder he'll struggle when he ventures out later.
Catching my gaze, Namgung Ryu-cheong raised an eyebrow like, What?
"I know how to sharpen ink. I just don't need to."
"I... didn't say anything?"
"Staring like that, then playing innocent."
"Quick on the uptake... Just keep reading."
The madam's clear laughter filled the carriage. Covering her mouth to stifle it, she said, "You two get along so well."
Namgung Ryu-cheong shot her a sidelong glance before returning to his book. With a playful smile, the madam continued, "As you know, Ryu-cheong said no at first. But when he heard you were going while getting ready, he suddenly changed his mind."
Namgung Ryu-cheong's finger twitched on the page. Haha, really?
I beamed warmly at him. Pretending not to hear, he buried his face deeper in the book, refusing to look up.
Even for a nearby temple, it took over two hours from the estate into the mountains—no cars in this era. I'd been excitedly sightseeing, but soon started dozing off, my head bobbing with the carriage's sway until it lolled against something.
I slept soundly for a while before slowly stirring. Voices chattered outside—sounds I hadn't heard since entering the mountains. We must've arrived at Cheonam Temple.
"If you're awake, get up."
A curt voice came from right by my head.
By my head?
I jolted upright. "S-sorry!"
I had no memory of using Namgung Ryu-cheong's lap as a pillow.
Hope I didn't drool...
Wiping my mouth brought no relief—nothing there, thankfully.
"Good timing. We're almost there," the madam said.
Madam, why didn't you wake me?!
"I was about to, but Cheong-ie said to let you sleep."
"Uh... thanks."
Namgung Ryu-cheong tsked, frowning as he smoothed his wrinkled clothes.
Stepping out, faint incense and crisp wind tickled my nose. The air was definitely colder. Stretching my stiff body, I looked around.
Cheonam Temple wasn't huge. A few early visitors for prayers kept it from feeling crowded. Spotting the madam, a high-ranking monk came out personally to greet us.
After brief pleasantries, we entered the main hall. Namgung Ryu-cheong lighting incense beside her looked surprisingly practiced. She'd said he got dragged here twice a year—probably his only outings.
After the rites, the madam spotted a waiting monk and said, "Ryu-cheong, show Yeon-ah around. I'll talk a bit. Take the maids and guards."
"Got it. Let's go."
Following him, I paused at the hall entrance. He turned at my sudden stop, then followed my gaze.
Girls in colorful attire stood there. Amid the thick incense, a sweet powdery scent wafted. Each held a long stick with a fortune number, chatting happily.
Namgung Ryu-cheong asked, "You wanna try?"
"No, just... yeah, why not?"
Truth was, their cheerful laughter had drawn me—curious what it was about. But seeing him, I suddenly wondered about his fortune.
I knew his future roughly. How would the lots interpret it?
Though it might not match.
The girls left, and he picked up the black bamboo tube. "Draw."
Couldn't exactly say I didn't care about mine, just his. Smiling gratefully, I took the tube.
I shook it casually, and one stick fell out. He bent to pick it up, his expression odd.
"Bad one?"
"See for yourself."
Tilting my head at the stick, I flipped it. Blank on both sides.
"Huh? Wrong one?"
Why draw this of all things...
"Try again."
Did it work twice? Or was mine too half-hearted? This time, I knelt properly toward the Guanyin statue, shaking earnestly.
Too earnestly? Two sticks clattered onto my lap.
"Ack, what?!"
Thinking I'd botched it, I grabbed them—and frowned. Both blank again.