The Day the Mourning Ended
Today, at long last, her husband's three-year mourning period was coming to an end. No one suspected that Baekri Yeongso, the former Alliance Leader's wife who looked as delicate as a single white magnolia blossom, was the very culprit who had taken his life.
What should I do now? Yeongso stared blankly up at her husband's portrait, an image she had grown sick of seeing over the past three years. Their actual marriage had lasted less than four months; she had spent several times longer burning incense before his memorial tablet than she ever had being his wife in life.
Extraordinary, phoenix-like eyes; a high nose bridge; a reddish tint around his eyelids that made him look as if he wore makeup; and lips curved into a faint, mocking sneer. He was, without a doubt, a man of peerless beauty. Her husband, Banya, whose tastes hovered precariously between vulgarity and sheer opulence, had posed for this portrait wearing a silver crown, lustrous ink-black silk robes, and a belt adorned with dangling obsidian beads. Every time she looked at it, she couldn't help but feel that his sheer arrogance was practically bursting through the paper, even though it was a mere painting.
My family must be eagerly awaiting my return... Lady Gang, the matriarch of the Baekri Clan, had already sent escorts so that Yeongso could return to her maiden home the moment the mourning period concluded. They would arrive at the Thousand Death Alliance by this afternoon at the latest. Realistically, leaving with them was the only sensible choice.
Banya—meaning "half-night." It was a name her husband had given himself after completely decimating the Red Flower Palace, the largest sect of the Unorthodox Path, in a mere half-night. And the Red Flower Palace had been just the beginning. Bringing down one unorthodox sect after another—the very ones that had despised him in his youth—Banya had risen to the position of Alliance Leader of the Thousand Death Alliance at the tender age of twenty-four. Though he had never been trained to lead, he had ruled the alliance flawlessly for four years. Under his command, the countless unorthodox sects, previously consumed by their own petty greed, began to fall into line and expand their influence. A dark anxiety had spread across the Gangho that, for the first time in history, the Orthodox Path might find itself overwhelmed.
And then, that very man had made a public declaration.
"If I marry Baekri Yeongso, the Unorthodox Path will not initiate any provocations for the next ten years."
The marriage between Yeongso and Banya had been a symbol of harmony between the Orthodox and Unorthodox Paths. But with Banya's death, that peace vanished as if it had never existed. The newly appointed Palace Master of the Red Flower Palace, who succeeded Banya, constantly cast insidious glances at Yeongso. Moreover, the power struggle over the vacant seat of the Alliance Leader was endless. As far as Yeongso knew, the Alliance Leader had changed four times already. Everyone was too busy satisfying their own greed. Whenever she witnessed this, Yeongso felt a complicated knot in her chest, wondering if her decision to kill her husband had truly been the right one.
I thought you were planning to break the promise of peace. I had received intelligence back then—that Hwa Banya was going to brutally murder young disciples and frame the Orthodox Path. They said the reason you wanted to stir up such conflict was because you desired to bring not just the Unorthodox Path, but the entire Gangho, to its knees...
Yeongso had found an anonymous tip in her quarters, claiming her husband was plotting this behind her back. Since confronting him directly was out of the question, she had no choice but to investigate quietly on her own. A dark night, a flickering light, and the low, murmuring voices whispering in Banya's study... She had believed that the only way to save those innocent lives was to take Banya's.
I truly didn't want to do it... It had been Baekri Yeongso's very first kill. She remembered her master, who had once told her with a bitter tone, "The moment you learn martial arts, you will eventually have to kill someone." She recalled her younger self, fiercely protesting that she would only ever use her strength to save people. Her master had merely looked down at her with a strange, inscrutable expression. Now, she finally understood why he had looked at her that way. She had broken her vow and killed Banya, but his death had only dragged the entire Unorthodox Path down into the mud. For the past three years, conflict had never ceased within and outside the Thousand Death Alliance. Ironically, more than half of the young disciples she had sought to save from her husband's hands had ended up dying in the ensuing chaos.
Killing you didn't solve anything... Yeongso's expression darkened. She was a sinner who had committed an irreversible mistake. In more ways than one.
"I'm sorry." Yeongso lit a stick of incense. This would likely be the last offering she would ever make before Banya's portrait. As the elders put it, this place was a "den of vipers," and there was very little Yeongso, a lone daughter of an orthodox clan, could do here.
"I am returning to my clan now. In your next life, I hope you are born as a good person and live a peaceful life." Yeongso turned around. She planned to return to her chambers, change into her everyday clothes, and wait for her family. To think she was finally taking off her mourning clothes. She had wondered if this day would ever come. She felt a strange mixture of relief and emptiness.
Just then, the doors of the ancestral shrine opened with a long, slow creak. Yeongso casually looked up, only to freeze dead in her tracks.
"Your complexion is so fair, wife, that even coarse hemp mourning clothes suit you beautifully."
Yeongso's lips parted, but no sound came out as she stared up at the man blocking her path. Her mind was in utter chaos. How could this be happening? He was dead. She had killed him with her own two hands. She had watched with her own eyes as his body was washed, the coffin was nailed shut, and the burial mound was piled high with dirt. How could a dead man walk back into the living world?
A crowd was already gathering outside. Shouts erupted, demanding to know if he valued his life, and who he thought he was to dare masquerade as the former Alliance Leader. Whispers of disguise techniques—using inner qi to alter one's face—reached Yeongso's ears.
Could it really be a disguise? Who would do such a thing, and why...? But without even needing to ponder the reasons, Yeongso immediately dismissed the thought. Her instincts told her the truth. This man was no imposter. He was indeed the husband she had killed three years ago. The strongest master of the Unorthodox Path, the Palace Master of the Red Flower Palace, and the Alliance Leader of the Thousand Death Alliance whose notorious cruelty was known to all under heaven: Hwa Banya.
Looking down at the deathly pale Yeongso, he asked with genuine curiosity,
"By the way... whose mourning have you been observing?"
Her husband's whispered question carried the scent of fresh earth. Beneath it, there was a faint trace of cedarwood. Yeongso realized what that scent was. The premium wooden coffin they had laid him in had been crafted from cedar. He had quite literally crawled out of his grave.
"I am asking you, wife. Who died that has you wearing mourning clothes?"
Yeongso clutched the long sleeves of her hemp robe, answering only in her mind.
You.
In the next moment, Baekri Yeongso's consciousness plunged into darkness. As her body collapsed, Banya effortlessly caught her in his arms.
Her closed eyelids fluttered. Yeongso's consciousness, which had drifted to a far-off place, was slowly returning.
"Are you awake, wife?"
Hearing Banya's voice so close by, Yeongso pretended to still be asleep.
"I've been staring at your face for a while now. You look so lovely while sleeping that I think I finally understand how the ancient kings felt when they buried their beautiful concubines alive with them."
Is he saying he's going to bury me alive too?
"Stop pretending, wife. I know you're awake."
Yeongso briefly considered holding out a bit longer but decided against it. She couldn't pretend to be unconscious forever.
"Ugh..."
As she tried to sit up, Banya gently supported her. When she let out a dry cough from her parched throat, he poured a cup of tea himself. He even blew on it, murmuring that it was too hot to drink right away. By the time he handed it to her, the tea had cooled to the perfect temperature. Yeongso was too bewildered by all of this to let her guard down. Her husband had never been this tender when he was alive.
"What happened...?"
"You fainted while we were talking, wife."
"That's not what I meant."
Yeongso stared at the black burial shroud Banya was wearing. Earlier, she had been too shocked by his sudden appearance to notice his clothes, but it was indeed a shroud.
"You... you passed away."
"Phrasing it like that makes me sound terribly old."
Yeongso had originally intended to ask, You died, didn't you? But her self-preservation instincts as the culprit had kicked in. She feared that the moment she spoke of his death directly, Banya would snap and strangle her.
Three years ago, right up until his last breath, Banya had been unable to accept his own demise. And understandably so. Hwa Banya was an absolute master who had brought the entire Unorthodox Path to its knees single-handedly, whereas Baekri Yeongso was known only as a pampered noble lady who spent her days holding embroidery needles. Yeongso would never forget the fierce, murderous glare in his eyes as he stared up at her in his final moments.