Chapter 105
“Miss, then I’ll organize the luggage. How many days should I plan for?”
Instead of answering, Yeo Il gave a light hand gesture.
Chang-a, who had been standing by the door, came closer with a puzzled look. After seating the young maid on a chair, Yeo Il tilted her chin toward Seol-yeong, who was applying ointment to her wounds in a corner of the room.
“There’s no need. Chang-a, you and Seol-yeong have to act separately from me this time. You need to leave first before tonight is over, so prepare your own luggage, not mine.”
Seol-yeong, who had been lifting her elbow high for treatment while grumbling, ‘They really beat me up good in every damn place, those bastards,’ snapped her head up.
“What? Me? Today? And even taking Chang-a with me? Hah. Where are you trying to send us?”
“I—I’ve never moved separately from you, Miss…”
Looking back and forth at the two of them as they startled, Yeo Il answered calmly.
“There’s no one I can entrust this to except you two. I’m asking you.”
Perhaps because Yeo Il was unusually gentle, Seol-yeong, with a reluctant face, finished applying the ointment and began tidying her clothes.
“Well, you don’t have to ‘ask’ or anything. So what are you trying to make us do?”
“The place that made Namgung Soyo’s grave. Remember?”
At the mention of the unexpected location, Seol-yeong and Chang-a both looked startled.
“Yes. I remember.”
“Go there.”
Seol-yeong’s gaze sharpened.
“Go there, and then what? Do we dig up the grave and collect the remains and bring them back?”
“Y-you bad person! Don’t say things like that about Miss’s grave!”
Thud, thud. Seol-yeong endured Chang-a’s rough, merciless punches and sat down in the remaining chair.
Yeo Il watched Seol-yeong drain the cold tea like a tough brawler, then handed a small box to Chang-a.
“When you get there, you’ll understand naturally. Take this box too. Once you arrive, open it, and you two decide what to do with what’s inside.”
Chang-a accepted the box carefully and murmured with a trembling face.
“It feels like… like we’re carrying out a secret mission. …It’s not a mission to bring back remains, right?”
Seol-yeong scratched her head for a long while, then spoke with a suspicious expression.
“This is weird. Are we really going by ourselves?”
“If you’re scared, I’ll attach Jin Cheong-ak to you.”
“Who the hell said I’m scared? Huh?”
Seol-yeong sprang to her feet, snatched the box from Chang-a’s hands, and tucked it under her side.
“Kid, pack fast. Let’s hurry there, hurry and get it done, and hurry back.”
“What? Ah—yes!”
When Seol-yeong and Chang-a left the room, the interior became strangely silent.
Rising from her chair, Yeo Il slowly opened the nearest drawers one by one and checked inside.
She wondered if any expensive items she had not managed to take might remain, but since she had scraped it clean, there seemed to be nothing left worth stealing.
Jin Cheong-ak, who had been sitting by the window, watched her for a moment, then asked in an offhand tone.
“Is it fine to send them off without even saying goodbye?”
She ignored him and extinguished the lamp.
In the darkness, a sudden laugh rode the cold air of the autumn night and echoed through the room.
“You’re truly practiced at doing things that get you hated, our miss….”
Early morning, the day they left the Namgung Clan.
Namgung Jeok-myeong came to see Yeo Il.
He had dragged himself here in a body that was clearly not sound. His face was pale, and after letting out several sighs, he spoke slowly.
“I’m sorry, Soyo. That day, I… I think I was definitely too hasty.”
She could not see his expression, but his voice held genuine remorse.
So Yeo Il quietly dropped the urge to mock him as a “Sogaju weak as dog shit,” or to jab harder at what hurt and wring out every last secret he had left.
“You know that well.”
At her blunt answer, Namgung Jeok-myeong let out a small laugh, then groaned in pain.
“Haa… After we’d already talked it out, I think I tried to squeeze you too hard. No—surely I was going to. If you hadn’t been skilled with the sword, I would have made an even bigger mistake.”
An even bigger mistake. Big dreams.
“Maybe because I know that, even more so, toward you… mm….”
“You came at me.”
“Mm, yes… I did. I have nothing to say.”
When Yeo Il did not reply, a rather long silence settled between them.
He clearly had something he wanted to say, yet for once he seemed to be seriously weighing it, so she waited by the door for quite some time.
“Where will you go now?”
When he finally asked, his voice had grown noticeably rough.
“You’re asking when you already know. The Jegal Clan.”
“And after that.”
“I’ll come back to the Namgung Clan.”
“Where did you bury Soyo? Before it gets any later, I want to hold the funeral.”
“I’m standing right here in front of you perfectly fine, and you’re saying strange things.”
“Take care of Hui-myeong for me. That child is not weak at all, but… this time, for some reason, I can’t stop worrying.”
“Shouldn’t Hui-myeong Oppa be the one protecting me? I’m a body that would get blown away helplessly just by a gust of wind.”
“What is your name?”
“Namgung Soyo.”
“Where were you born?”
“Anhui Province.”
“……The Cheonma Divine Cult and Yeonghwang Yuse will chase you. Can you handle it?”
Yeo Il, who had been answering the endless, pointless questions calmly, suddenly closed her mouth.
Should I look at his face once?
Should she look into his eyes and ask him why he was worrying about someone when his shoulder had nearly been split in two because of her?
Thinking back, in front of Namgung Jeok-myeong she had been unusually earnest about pretending to be blind, so they had never met each other’s gaze. The most she had done was steal glances at his profile now and then to gauge his reactions.
But she soon abandoned the thought.
There was no need to brand into him the existence called Yeo Il—someone who was not Namgung Soyo.
“What does this silence mean?”
As she was about to answer that it meant nothing, a warm heat carefully tugged at her hand.
“Is it really impossible?”
She had held his hand more than a few times, but never once had its warmth been this high.
“I’ll ask one last time, Soyo. Truly… can’t you even tell me your name?”
Namgung Jeok-myeong’s voice remained calm.
But the earnestness—something close to a plea—was felt through the skin where they touched. The temperature of that emotion was not a lie.
“You can throw away the name Namgung Soyo. I don’t care what you wish to be. So stay… in the Namgung Clan… can’t you?”
Just as Yeo Il felt Namgung Jeok-myeong’s grip tighten more and more—
“Jeok-myeong Hyung?”
A familiar voice came from not far away.
It was Namgung Hui-myeong.
“Did you come because you were worried? I told you I’ll protect Soyo well, so don’t worry. Hyung, just take good care of your own health.”
At the same time Namgung Hui-myeong came close, she heard Jin Cheong-ak’s shallow laughter from not far away.
So Jin Cheong-ak had brought him. He had definitely been watching Namgung Jeok-myeong and Yeo Il somewhere with an extremely irritating expression.
Namgung Jeok-myeong was silent for a short time.
Then, as if nothing had happened, he patted Namgung Hui-myeong’s shoulder and spoke in an even voice.
“Fine. I’ll trust only you, Namgung Hui-myeong.”
“Hmph, of course you should. If that damned assassin comes again, make sure you teach him a lesson.”
“Haha. I’ll try—so you also need to be careful. Don’t get too cocky.”
“Who’s being cocky… Hey, Soyo. You’re done preparing, right? Let’s go.”
When they left Seocheong following Namgung Hui-myeong, Jin Cheong-ak was waiting with Dang Maeryeong.
Before boarding the carriage—
Namgung Jeok-myeong lightly pulled Yeo Il into an embrace.
“…Go and come back.”
Yeo Il returned the embrace, and gave an answer that was very much Namgung Soyo of the Namgung Clan.
“Take care of yourself, Brother.”
A few days later—
The four of them arrived at the Jegal Clan.