The Living Canvas and Han Myeong-hoe's Shadow
Two months earlier in Apgujeong, Prince Anpyeong summoned An Gyeon to Bihaedang at the foot of Inwangsan.
"A few days ago, my brother hosted the royal family banquet, and the scene was like a single painting. I've called the chef from Daeryeong Suksu here today to recreate it, so let's eat together and share our thoughts."
The chef from Daeryeong Suksu brought out grilled beef on hot iron plates and spinach with egg and sesame.
An Gyeon took a bite, his eyes widening.
"Not only is the taste exquisite, but the harmony of colors is astonishing. The black of the beef contrasts first with the yellow of the egg and sesame, and as you eat, the red of the beef blends with the green of the spinach. This entire table feels alive and moving."
"I want to preserve it in poetry and painting. If you paint it, I'll write the preface."
It took over a month for An Gyeon to paint and Prince Anpyeong to compose the words.
Early in the fifth month, Prince Anpyeong visited Gyeongbokgung Palace to see King Munjong.
"I've brought this to present to you, brother."
King Munjong took the painting. The dishes from the brothers' banquet lived vividly on the scroll. In Prince Anpyeong's elegant calligraphy were the title and preface of the poem-painting.
"A magnificent painting."
As King Munjong covered the scroll, he thought, 'This poem-painting rightfully belongs to Do-yoon. Just as Do-yoon sends me documents, I too can send this poem-painting to him.'
Prince Anpyeong took a sip of tea and said, "Brother, you look much more gaunt than at the last brothers' banquet. I heard your health had improved—what happened?"
"Lately, I haven't been sleeping deeply."
"What worries weigh on you so heavily?"
"It's nothing."
Prince Anpyeong thought he saw a faint flush on King Munjong's face. He tilted his head but asked no more.
"Brother, I've recently taken on a food connoisseur with remarkable talent."
King Munjong, ever eager for talented individuals, looked at Prince Anpyeong with expectant eyes.
"He's a physiognomist named Kim Nae-gyeong. They say he sees through everything about a person, and meeting him confirmed it."
King Munjong's gaze turned icy in an instant.
"You've taken in a physiognomist?"
"Yes, brother."
"Keeping such vulgar arts close contradicts the way of the gentleman."
Prince Anpyeong flinched under King Munjong's stern glare.
"Brother, it's not entirely a vulgar art—"
"Do you still not know that Master Zhu called physiognomy a vulgar art? A person's fate changes through self-cultivation!"
Prince Anpyeong bowed his head briefly in silence before changing the subject.
"More importantly, brother, may I speak of my second child's matter?"
King Munjong's expression softened slightly.
"You mean Deokyang-jeong. How is his health lately?"
"Thanks to the black garlic juice and toothpaste Your Majesty bestowed, he's been quite healthy recently."
"That's fortunate. He must not neglect the Bosin Exercise either."
"Yes, brother."
Prince Anpyeong glanced around cautiously before continuing. "Perhaps because he was frail since childhood, he has a particular longing for the world outside. When he hears tales of the great world beyond Hanseong, he even refuses Jwagye."
"Refuses Jwagye? Deokyang-jeong's self-cultivation is impressive. I'll consider a suitable position for my nephew."
Prince Anpyeong's face brightened.
"Thank you, brother."
After Prince Anpyeong left, King Munjong pondered something and summoned the Chief State Councillor.
"Add black garlic juice to the Joseon Certified Products."
The Chief State Councillor reported, "Your Highness, we need someone to handle it. The head of the Utilization Institute is currently inspecting red ginseng affairs in Pyeongan Province. We need a separate manager for the Hanseong branch."
"Is there a suitable candidate?"
The Chief State Councillor thought for a moment.
"What about Han Myeong-hoe, the grandson of Elder Han Sang-gyeong? He entered service through the shadow appointment system and now manages Gyeongdeok Palace in Kaesong. They say he's sharp with numbers, tight-lipped, and clear on public and private matters."
"If he's a descendant of Elder Han Sang-gyeong, he's trustworthy. I'll think on it for a few days. Summon Han Myeong-hoe to Hanseong."
That night, King Munjong sent a Gatong message. The moment he heard the name Han Myeong-hoe today, an inexplicable unease had stirred within him.
King Munjong stared at the brief Gatong, speechless. His lips trembled faintly.
'This isn't like Do-yoon's tone. Does Do-yoon's family have ties not only to Uncle Hyoryeong but also to Elder Han Sang-gyeong's house? He must know this Han Myeong-hoe.'
Since Do-yoon mentioned urgent personal matters, King Munjong sent no further Gatong. He pondered the source of his own unease upon hearing Han Myeong-hoe's name, and the discomfort toward Han Myeong-hoe evident in Do-yoon's Gatong—how to verify it.
The next day, King Munjong summoned Prince Anpyeong again.
"Bring Kim Nae-gyeong to Gyeongbokgung."
Prince Anpyeong stiffened.
"Didn't you call it a vulgar art?"
"I've decided even vulgar arts have their uses."
Prince Anpyeong glanced at his brother's face briefly, then nodded. It was the command of his king and brother.
A few days later, three men gathered in the main hall of the Utilization Institute: Prince Anpyeong, Kim Nae-gyeong, and Han Myeong-hoe. Han Myeong-hoe was visibly tense.
'One can't rise to high office through shadow appointment alone. This is an absolute golden opportunity.'
Prince Anpyeong asked, "I hear you're good with numbers."
Kim Nae-gyeong thought, 'Sharp bone structure. Deep, cold eyes. A man who calculates people as well.'
Han Myeong-hoe replied, "I am confident I can handle ledgers without a single error."
Prince Anpyeong asked again, "I hear you're tight-lipped."
'To hide his emotions.'
Kim Nae-gyeong no longer heard Han Myeong-hoe's answer.
"And how do you distinguish public from private?"
'A man full of selfish desires.'
Prince Anpyeong and Han Myeong-hoe didn't notice, but Kim Nae-gyeong's eyes slowly narrowed.
'A man who plots great schemes. We can only hope he never gets the chance.'
After Han Myeong-hoe left the office, Kim Nae-gyeong's words to Prince Anpyeong were just one sentence. And that sentence soon reached King Munjong.
The next day, Han Myeong-hoe was transferred from Gyeongdeok Palace in Kaesong to the Utilization Institute in Seosan, Chungcheong Province. His task was to manage the Joseon Certified Products black garlic juice made from Seosan garlic.
The academic conference was a week away. I was busy, but I felt bad for not contacting Seo-yeon for so long.
The next day, while prepping my conference presentation, I headed to Jeongja-dong. The subway wasn't as crowded as expected, so I arrived early. After waiting a while with no sign of Seo-yeon, I called her.
Silence followed Seo-yeon's last words.
"I'll grab a cab and hurry. Go into a cafe and wait. Sorry."
Rushing in the taxi, I scrolled through the Gatong.
Han Myeong-hoe? No, not Han Myeong-hoe. I had no memory of sending this on Monday. That night, I'd pulled an all-nighter re-verifying case data and finishing the paper, rubbing sleepy eyes at some point.
The taxi sped along the Tancheon Stream. Staring blankly out the window, I belatedly searched the place name. Apgujeong-dong was in Seosan. Han Myeong-hoe's name didn't appear in the Annals of the Joseon Dynasty.
'My denial of Han Myeong-hoe triggered some butterfly effect.'
For unknown reasons, Han Myeong-hoe headed to Seosan, and Apgujeong was built there. In the space where his name vanished, only the old village name remained: Jeongja-dong.
Han Myeong-hoe, who won over Kwon Ram to become Prince Suyang's strategist and orchestrated the Gyeyu Coup from the shadows. Legend had it the top name on Han Myeong-hoe's hit list was Kim Jong-seo.
Through the taxi window, I spotted Seo-yeon waiting in front of KZC in Jeongja-dong.
'Right now, there's just one name on that hit list: Lee Do-yoon.'
It had been ages since I'd seen Seo-yeon, yet because of Han Myeong-hoe, I'd been waiting in Bundang Jeongja-dong. Is Han Myeong-hoe the type who can't rest until he's killed someone?'
The triple stress from the hospital, King Munjong, and the paper exploded at once. Getting out of the taxi, I couldn't hold back and yelled.
"Hey, you 2003 Sheep-zodiac Han. Myeong. Hoe. You deep-state bastard."
Seo-yeon stood right in front of me.
"Oppa... what did you say?"
I was caught.