The Red Flower Falls (6)
A sharp gasp escaped between clenched teeth as Jin Yeseo regained consciousness. The first thing that hit her was an overwhelming wave of pain. She slowly turned her stiff neck, forcing her eyes to take in her surroundings. She was lying on a bed in the infirmary, where the lights were dim and the sharp scent of medicine stung her nose.
With a low groan, she pushed herself up against the headboard and examined her body. Her once perfectly styled golden hair was now a tangled mess, falling across her face. The limbs visible beneath the patient gown were covered in bruises and bandages, leaving almost no skin exposed.
“Ugh…”
A fresh surge of nausea twisted through her abdomen. Jin Yeseo clamped a hand over her mouth, barely holding back the urge to vomit.
“Damn it…”
She swallowed the reflexive curse and tried to piece together her hazy memories. As her mind cleared, the humiliating events came rushing back with painful clarity. Her last recollection was of suffering a pathetic, one-sided defeat in the dueling arena, watched by hundreds of spectators. Among them had been close classmates and even the senior she respected most. The mere thought made her pale face flush crimson with rage.
“Ha…”
The blonde girl let out a deep sigh that rose from the very depths of her chest. Her fists clenched so tightly that her nails dug into her palms, drawing blood.
On the bedside table lay several letters of consolation from acquaintances. Jin Yeseo first reached for the one accompanied by a bouquet of flowers and a basket of candies. She tore it open.
“Hehe…”
As expected, it was a handwritten note from Baek Seoyeon, filled with warm encouragement and wishes for her swift recovery. The anger that had been boiling inside her softened, and a faint, bashful smile bloomed on her lips.
But the very next envelope, stamped with an elegant, high-class seal, instantly dragged her mood back to rock bottom.
“…”
She hesitated for a moment, but eventually reached out with her one usable arm and picked it up. No matter how much she hated it, there was no avoiding this. It was a letter from her mother—the head of the White Light Jin family, one of the Five Great Houses, and a three-term representative on the Supreme Council.
With obvious reluctance, Jin Yeseo opened the letter. She channeled her particles into it according to the family’s unique pattern, and elegant handwriting gradually materialized on the pure white paper.
I have received word of the incident. The physician’s report states that with a few days of proper rest, you should make a full recovery without any lasting complications. So do not worry too much…
In addition, I have heard nothing but praise for how well you have maintained your friendship with the young lady of the Heavenly Baek family and for your excellent ranking. The family will be sending a formal protest to the Cradle regarding your excessive injuries.
…Remember that you now have only one chance left. I hope you have not forgotten the promise we made before you entered the Cradle.
“Haa…”
The additional measures felt like they only made her look more pathetic, but given when the letter had been sent, the protest had likely already been delivered. In other words, the matter was already out of her hands.
Most of the letter was filled with the usual empty formalities, so Jin Yeseo skimmed through it quickly. The most important—and most infuriating—part was written in a single curt line at the very end.
She couldn’t hold back any longer. She crumpled the letter into a ball and hurled it toward the trash can across the room.
Her throw was fueled by too much rage and irritation. The crumpled letter missed the bin entirely and rolled across the infirmary floor. All she had accomplished was adding a fresh throb of pain to her already aching arm.
Jin Yeseo let out a long, frustrated sigh.
Before entering the Cradle, she had made a single promise with her mother. If she lost to a male student twice during the first semester’s ranking matches, she would give up her stubbornness and begin looking for a marriage partner among the other family heirs, just like everyone else. And if, during her first year, she failed to find someone suitable on her own, she would obediently accept whoever her mother chose.
To escape the pressure that grew heavier with each passing year, Jin Yeseo had eventually accepted her mother’s proposal. It wasn’t blind bravado; it had been a decision made after calmly assessing her own abilities.
She had been confident that none of her peers could surpass her—in background or in achievement. That annoying monkey-like Choi Woojin picked fights with her every day, but if she fought seriously, he was someone she could easily defeat. So if she could just get through one year, she would be completely free.
But now her perfect plan was on the verge of being ruined by some unknown mutant who had crawled out of nowhere.
“Haa…”
Unlike Jin Yeseo, who had only wanted a one-time breeding stallion, her mother sought a partner with whom she could exchange both personal interaction and political benefits within the framework of an engagement.
Still, she could never quite understand her mother. And though she affirmed everything about Baek Seoyeon, there was one thing she simply could not comprehend.
Baek Seoyeon was considered the strongest mage of this generation, the one who would succeed Hae Wolhwa. She possessed an inexhaustible well of high-level magic, a conversion rate several times higher than average, and the overwhelming ability to cast weather-altering spells alone that normally required multiple mages working together. Her looks, her background, her personality—everything about her was perfect.
So when Jin Yeseo first learned that even Baek Seoyeon had a fiancé she loved so deeply she would hang herself for him, the shock had been immense. Some people still cast doubtful glances at the fiancé who had never once shown his face, but the happiness Jin Yeseo had witnessed up close could not possibly have been fake.
—Grind.
In the empty hospital room, the sound of a blonde girl grinding her teeth echoed loudly.
She had no intention of wasting time on anything foolish. And now, she had only one chance left.
“Here you go.”
Professor Kwon Chan-yeol, still looking tired and bleary-eyed, lazily held out a signed document. At the top of the page, large bold letters read: Mentoring Group Field Experience Application.
“A tour of the Hojing Industrial Research Lab for post-graduation career exploration. Quite a solid experience. It aligns well with the purpose of the mentoring group.”
“Thank y—”
“But the contents of this application are accurate, yes?”
“…Yes, they are. Is there a problem…?”
“No. It just suddenly reminded me of a former colleague who once tried to use this as an excuse to commit public indecency. I was wondering if that bastard might have taught his student any unnecessary tricks.”
The sudden suspicious glare sent a twinge through my chest. His worries had nothing to do with reality, but I absolutely could not admit that the contents of the application were true. And was it just my imagination, or did I have a pretty good idea who he was talking about?
“Well, you seem like a fairly diligent kid, so I trust you’ll handle it properly. Still, it’s good to see you and your mentor seem to get along.”
Professor Kwon continued in a casual tone.
“When you first chose that girl as your mentor, there was quite a bit of talk among the faculty. She was quite the troublemaker in her first year, after all…”
He shook his head as if the memory alone exhausted him.
“When the two of you dueled, I thought it was only a matter of time before something exploded. But seeing you now, the feeling is quite different. Did overcoming that major crisis together in the south help strengthen your bond?”
“I think that played a part, yes.”
“Of course. People tend to grow closer after experiencing something like that together. Still, you lied during our counseling session.”
The professor’s satisfied expression suddenly clouded with mild displeasure.
“What? Predictive Eye at the fifth stage and internal particle count of 3,000 rubins? Even a lie should have some moderation.”
“…I’m sorry.”
I had no good excuse for the professor’s scolding. Now that my achievements in the south were known, he—who had conducted that counseling session—would know perfectly well that I had downplayed my accomplishments.
“It’s fine. You probably just didn’t want to stand out too much. I wasn’t trying to criticize you. There are quite a few students like that. The Cradle can’t force them to reveal everything. And who could have predicted something like that would happen to you?”
“Th-thank you for understanding…”
“No need for thanks. Anyway, I understand. You may go. And try not to cause any trouble outside.”
He waved his hand dismissively, practically shooing me out of his office.
After bowing and leaving, I grabbed a small travel bag and exited the main building. I walked across the flower-filled campus toward the front gate. Soon, I spotted someone standing in front of the large statue at the entrance.
It was Yeon Minha, dressed not in her uniform but in a neat navy-blue dress, standing with refined poise. Behind her waited a sleek black luxury sedan, ready for its owner.
As I approached to greet her, Yeon Minha turned first and walked toward me. Once again, her eyes scanned my chest, and once again she wore a pouty, dissatisfied expression.
“What is it this time? I tied my tie properly today.”
“No, it’s… never mind.”
With that, she spun on her heel and climbed into the back seat of the car first.
The black-haired girl dreams once again of happy days.
They were lying together in a reed field at midnight, talking about this and that. The sky sparkled with jewel-like stars, and the distance between them was so close she could feel the warmth of his breath. If she turned her head just slightly, she would see the face of the boy she loved more than anyone else in the world.
“U-um, you know…”
At her fidgeting call, the boy who had been staring blankly at the constellations turned to meet her eyes.
“What?”
Doing her best to steady her trembling voice, the girl carefully brought up the topic she had been preparing for so long.
“If… if we get married… what should we call each other…?”
“…Can’t we just use our names…?”
The boy’s puzzled reply made the girl shake her head vigorously.
“Th-that won’t do… I heard that married couples have special ways to address each other…”
“Really? I don’t really mind either way…”
“…Uuu.”
When she let out a small, teary whine of dissatisfaction, the boy quickly realized his mistake and looked apologetic.
“…Then what should we use? I haven’t thought about it.”
“In… in an old book, they used to say ‘husband’… how about that…?”
“Ugh. That sounds way too old-fashioned…”
“…Hmph.”
The boy had shown clear disapproval, but when he saw the unjust tears welling up in the girl’s eyes, he immediately corrected himself.
“Sorry.”
“Then what about something else…?”
“Something else?”
“Yeah. Adults call each other ‘darling’… how about that…?”
“…That seems okay, I guess…”
The boy fell silent for a moment, then gave a small, slightly embarrassed nod.
Encouraged, the girl took one step further and offered the bold suggestion she had prepared in advance.
“Then… should we practice it now…?”
“Do we really need to practice…”
“O-of course we do! These things need to be prepared in advance…!”
“Sigh, fine…”
Unable to withstand her insistence, the boy eventually raised both hands in surrender.
“…Ahem. Should I go first…?”
But the girl could see it—the embarrassment rising on his face, mixed with a faint trace of anticipation.
“D… dar… huu…”
Even though he had agreed, his lips wouldn’t part easily. His face burned as if it had been scalded, and his vision spun so much he couldn’t see straight. After stuttering over the first syllable several times, he finally took a deep breath as if making a firm resolution.
“D… dar—!”
—Ring ring! Ring ring!
“Ah…”
Baek Seoyeon reached out in vain. Before her eyes was only the dark, gloomy ceiling of the dormitory at dawn. A sigh escaped her lips unconsciously, and her unfocused eyes wandered aimlessly around the room.
The words she had struggled so hard to say dissolved into nothing more than a dream, scattered by the noisy ringing of the phone.