Our Recovery Days - 4: The Maddening Art of Trailing Off
Nothing drives people insane quite like a speaking style that cuts off mid-sentence. I never imagined I'd fall victim to it from Ak Wang of all people.
But the real agony was that I couldn't possibly pick up where he'd left off. If he stubbornly kept his mouth shut, no one short of the Emperor could force it open.
It was so brutally cruel that my hands and feet trembled just thinking about it.
'At least Grandfather's still around, so there's nothing I can do.'
I let out a silent sigh as I gazed at Ak Wang, his lips sealed tight.
If anything happened to Ak I-yeon in Akwangjeo, Ak Wang would appear in an instant. That meant once you reached the Hwagyeong realm, you could eavesdrop on any conversation in your estate—and Grandfather was no exception.
Grandfather had likely overheard Ak Wang mentioning Grandmother. He was already in a foul mood as it was. He'd probably chalk it up to a slip in the heat of the moment, but if Ak Wang opened his mouth again, the rage would erupt anew.
"If you're so curious, ask Han Jung yourself. Family matters are best heard from family."
"Yes. I shall do that."
Perhaps that's why Ak Wang, after a long silence, offered that boilerplate response clearly meant for Grandfather's ears. He was right, of course. If Grandmother had left Grandfather's side for reasons similar to mine, it couldn't have been a happy parting.
In that case, it was only proper to hear it from the man himself. Besides, Grandfather had never once spoken to me about her. Hearing such things from others—when the person involved either didn't want to share or felt the time wasn't right—would only hurt us both.
"...Han Un."
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Your grandfather's talk of crippling your dantian was excessive. But the rest of what he said holds true—engrave it in your heart."
"I will keep it in mind."
No matter how they bickered, they were still old friends; his words subtly defended Grandfather, so I bowed deeply with respect.
"I taught you the Righteous Heart Technique hoping it would keep you safe. I wanted it to be your shield, not a dagger piercing your foes' throats."
At the same time, I recalled the words laced thickest with Grandfather's emotion.
The martial art he'd taught me out of love—wishing me unharmed—had nearly become a dagger through his own grandson's throat. What must Grandfather have felt, saying such things? And unlike my miraculous brush with injury, when Grandmother left his side... how much more agonizing must that have been?
'Does this count as a grave offense?'
A wry smile crept onto my face unbidden.
The grave offense punished those who violated the Three Bonds and Five Constants. Among them, alongside treason, filial impiety was deemed the worst. That scoundrel of a grandson had driven a spike into Grandfather's heart—he deserved the ultimate penalty for such unfilial conduct.
After Grandfather vented his fury, my days settled into a relative peace.
Without his intervention, I'd have faced Ak I-yeon's tearful scolding on top of everything else. But Grandfather had unleashed such stern words—even threatening to cripple my dantian—that she held back.
Having witnessed it all firsthand, Ak I-yeon no longer pressed me for atonement.
"Young master. His Highness was just worried about you—that's why he spoke out. Who could keep their wits when their precious grandson nearly fell to those barbarians?"
She even fretted whether I'd been hurt by Grandfather's words.
Honestly, it was unnecessary worry. For other martial artists, maybe, but to me, the threat of a crippled dantian wasn't all that shocking.
Losing my abilities as a warrior would finally usher in the central life I'd only dreamed of in my sleep.
"The real mistake was worrying Grandfather in the first place. Even if he really crippled my dantian, what could I say?"
Still, if I acted completely unfazed, Ak I-yeon would unleash her own sharp words. So I pulled the most dejected face I could muster and launched into some self-criticism.
It was genuine, of course. I'd done something mad enough to enrage the ever-composed Grandfather.
"Don't say that. If you keep moping over His Highness's words, it won't ease his mind either."
Ak I-yeon clasped my hand gently, shaking her head with a faint smile.
"The Giwang I know is a hero who values one deed over a hundred words. For such a man to spare your dantian and remain in the annex... it means he regrets what he said to you."
"You think so?"
"Of course. So reflect, young master—but don't torment yourself. That's what's best for His Highness."
With that, Ak I-yeon poked my cheek lightly with her index finger.
"And for me too."
I couldn't help but smile at that.
Though she hadn't scolded me outright, Ak I-yeon was a victim of this mess too—someone who'd fainted from worry over me. Showing her I was fine would put her heart at ease.
"I-yeon."
"Yes, young─"
So I carefully pressed my lips to her forehead.
Infusing it with gratitude and apology.
With the joy of seeing my fiancée after so long.
As repayment for her boldness in aiming for my cheek first.
"Y-Young master...!?"
Her eyes fluttered, her face flushing at the sudden affection—just the reaction I'd hoped for.
A cute response I could watch ten, twenty times a day.
"I promise—no more incidents like this. Ever."
But dragging it out ten or twenty times might make her faint for entirely different reasons. Better not.
"...You mean no more dangerous escapades, right?"
I chuckled at her cautious question.
She'd meant avoiding peril, of course—but coming right after the kiss, it could be misread as no more intimacy ever.
"Of course. And what I just did? That'll continue till we die."
I made it crystal clear. Vague words like that only bred tedious misunderstandings between us—pointless ones.
- Kki-iing!
- Kki-ong~
The white deer outside the window—Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i, who'd been lounging about—let out soft cries at my blunt affection.
Rubbing their faces together, stimulated by their master's romance, it seemed.
"Those two are still so close."
Ak I-yeon, still red-faced, desperately changed the subject.
The "till we die" bit must have embarrassed her.
***
I brought my strongest liquor to the annex.
Whether me or that fool Han Jung, we'd both reached Hwagyeong—no alcohol could intoxicate us. But we could suppress our qi just enough to feel a pleasant buzz.
That much control over one's own body was the hallmark of Hwagyeong.
"Han Jung. Still moping around?"
I stepped into the annex, a bottle in each hand, and the man staring blankly at the garden pond finally spoke.
"Why are you here?"
"Do I need a reason to visit my own house, you lunatic?"
Then he slowly turned from the pond.
He knew he looked pathetic, at least.
Wrong. Not a shred of shame in that bastard.
'What a madman.'
His brazenness left even the true master speechless, so I tossed him a bottle wordlessly.
Regretting my needless concern already.
"Snacks?"
"Eat whatever I give you. Before I kick you out."
"So heartless."
He caught the bottle smoothly, tsking as he uncorked it.
"Oh, nice aroma. Something you were saving?"
Even appraising the liquor with such leisure.
"As if. Why would I waste something precious on you?"
"Tch. We'll both croak soon enough—why so stingy."
I quietly sipped from my bottle, watching him grumble.
'Still not right in the head.'
He'd always been a bit off, but now he was overdoing the cheerfulness.
As if he were utterly fine.
"Sorry about the other day. I lost my head and misspoke in front of my granddaughter's husband."
So when I—the one still sane—spoke first, his hand halted mid-sip.
"Apologizing for that? What's wrong with a grandson hearing about his grandmother?"
He chuckled and shook his head.
Damn bastard. If you're gonna say that, at least stop your hands from shaking.
"It was wrong to hear from someone else what you should hear from Grandfather."
"Harsh words. Am I a stranger, your father-in-law?"
"Cut the wordplay."
I drew a firm line, and he fell silent, drinking steadily.
"...My wife was a shining star of a martial artist. Far too good for a loafer like me."
Finally dropping the act, he muttered bitterly.
Good. Better to spit out the truth than rot inside while grinning.
"Yes, she shone so brightly. Staring too long would blind you—like she was forever out of reach, no matter how you stretched."
"And yet you married her. Such exaggeration."
"Kuh, true enough."
For the first time, a genuine laugh escaped him. He downed the rest of his bottle and hurled the empty toward the garden.
That damned fool. What the hell was that to my pristine garden?
"But she shone too much, drawing excessive attention. She wouldn't run from it, though—never one to shy from the burden."
I swallowed my anger at his next words.
The sole wife of founding hero Giwang Han Jung.
In the days when the Mongol barbarians ruled the Central Plains, she was the brightest knight-errant of them all.
Once called Ugeom, the Foolish Sword; after leaving our side, dubbed Seopung Manhwa, the Western Wind's Radiance.
As Han Jung said, Ugeom—Seopung Manhwa—shone too brilliantly.
In an age when martial virtue crawled in the dirt, she walked the path of chivalry alone, tending others' pain before her own.
That invited disaster.
Her ideals too noble for her power.
Her sense of responsibility too heavy.
"Looks like her blood... flowed to the grandson."
Because even against stronger foes, in dire straits, if it was right—she'd throw herself in willingly.
"Ak Hyeon."
"Speak."
"I'm jealous by nature. Even if it's my grandson, I can't tolerate anyone seeing my wife before me."
As he donned the mask again, I too flung my empty bottle into the garden.
This conversation was going to drag on awhile.