Chapter 49
Chapter 49
Yeo Il was not surprised, as she had already heard of the matter from Namgung Jeok-myeong.
“Someone must guard the clan while it remains empty during the martial competition.”
“Ah. Well, that’s true. There aren’t many people left in this family to begin with… Still, isn’t that elder still here? Namgung Pae, I mean.”
“He must have his reasons.”
After downing the bitter decoction in one gulp, Yeo Il called out to Changa.
“Changa, you know where the ancestral shrine is, do you not?”
“The shrine? Yes, of course. It’s in the direction of the Northern Hall.”
“Guide me there. I should at least pretend to pray for my deceased brother.”
Changa led her forward slowly.
Not long ago, the true Namgung Chu-myeong’s spirit tablet had been placed in the Namgung Clan’s shrine. While she was recovering her strength, the rites for the second son were conducted in a modest manner.
Ordinarily, an unmarried son who left no descendants would not have his tablet enshrined.
Yet Namgung Chu-myeong’s tablet stood prominently at the center.
Namgung Jeok-myeong, who cherished his kin as his own flesh and blood, forced the matter through, and even Namgung Pae, the most senior elder of the clan, granted permission. No one could oppose his decision.
“That human-skin mask is hanging up over there above the gate,” Changa whispered after briefly stopping near the main entrance.
“They say it’s getting uglier by the day, probably from all the stones thrown at it. I heard some people even came from far regions just to see that mask. Some even enter the clan grounds to request an audience with the Young Clan Head….”
Thud.
At that moment, the dull sound of another stone striking rang out. Yeo Il listened to the voices rising from beyond the gate.
“Pah! Filthy villain of the world! Assassin scum, get out of Anhui Province at once!”
“To think the well-regarded Second Young Master was in truth an evil spirit wearing a human-skin mask… How deeply pained the Young Clan Head must have been to know that….”
“Indeed, Blue Sword One Flash Namgung Jeok-myeong! He endured slander and ridicule clinging to him like a shadow, all for the sake of confirming that assassin’s true face. Those who criticized him blindly should be ashamed!”
Judging by the atmosphere, public opinion of Namgung Jeok-myeong had completely reversed.
Fear of Salmak still lingered strongly; it was only natural that Namgung Jeok-myeong’s reputation would soar beyond comparison for having weeded out an assassin disguised as his own brother.
“Let us go, Changa.”
“Yes.”
After walking some distance—
“There. Stop.”
A woman’s voice suddenly sounded from behind as they crossed toward the Northern Hall. Changa whispered,
“It’s Lady Danri Mukran, Miss.”
She had only stepped out after so long, yet trouble already tangled around her.
Changa led Yeo Il beneath the corridor where Danri Mukran stood. She could picture the woman lifting her chin to look down at her.
“So it truly is Namgung Soyo. I heard you were gravely ill. Is your body well—”
“Cough, cough!”
Yeo Il released a harsh cough that pierced the ears. Changa bowed politely toward Danri Mukran.
“My apologies, Madam. Since being poisoned, Miss has been unable to speak. Please be understanding.”
“Oh dear. Poor child. A sickly one who cannot even speak—where does she think she is going?”
“She is on her way to the shrine to bow before Second Young Master’s tablet.”
“Oh? Soyo, you at least know how to respect your elders. As it happens, I too am on my way to the shrine. Let us go together.”
“……”
“Yes, born as an illegitimate daughter and treated to this extent, one must conduct oneself accordingly. But in truth, the greatest thing a woman can do for her family is to marry. Especially a child like you, who is often ill and frail—marrying into a good family would ease the clan’s worries….”
“……”
Yeo Il moved toward the shrine as though invisible blood trickled from her ears.
“Ugh.”
After leaving the long-suffering Changa at the shrine’s entrance, she accepted Danri Mukran’s support and stepped into the inner chamber where the ancestors’ tablets were enshrined.
Of course, even then, Danri Mukran’s mouth did not cease.
“Since you are well enough to stroll now, starting tomorrow I shall send Young Master Go. You can share tea together—”
Rip—
She reached her limit.
Fortunately, it seemed someone had visited the shrine earlier. The scent of incense lingered thickly. Yeo Il promptly and noisily adjusted her garments and loudly offered her bows.
Thus she sat in silent meditation without thought when Danri Mukran spoke again.
“…Do not think Jeok-myeong and Hui-myeong will protect you forever.”
Perhaps because of the setting, her voice sounded calmer than usual.
“A man always places his wife and children first. That is the natural order.”
“……”
“The day those two accept betrothal gifts and form households, you will surely become a sack of barley cast aside from the clan’s perspective.”
“……”
“If you seek a match too late, all worthy men will already be married. And for the clan’s pride, you cannot be sent as a concubine… They will send you off as though selling you to some half-wit. The Clan Head’s wife will press you subtly—there will be no escape. I have seen and lived through it all.”
Perhaps because her tone carried a hint of detachment, there was a trace of sincerity when she spoke of experience.
“In that regard, Young Master Go of the Go family is more than sufficient. Their family’s prestige may fall short of Namgung’s, but they are not far behind. You would spend your life with him doting on you. For a woman, that is rare fortune.”
Yet even if sincerity could be felt, it did not deepen patience.
“Just bear one son. Then you will live proudly in that household—”
“Be quiet.”
A low rebuke cut through. A brief silence followed.
“…Did you just—”
At the instant Danri Mukran turned toward Yeo Il in disbelief—
Tap—
Her body collapsed limply to the floor, struck at a pressure point.
At last, it was somewhat quiet.
I should have done that sooner.
The shrine was an excellent place for meditation.
Because Yeo Il could not neglect her internal energy training, she felt deep tranquility whenever she spent solitary time in such stillness.
There was neither enlightenment nor deviation—only quietude.
Creak—
She sensed someone entering.
The footsteps approaching from behind carried a peculiar restraint that did not resemble Namgung Jeok-myeong and were too measured and leisurely to be Namgung Hui-myeong.
Who in the Namgung Clan possessed such steps and yet could enter the shrine?
In truth, it was hardly a question worth pondering.
While Yeo Il remained silent, the presence came to stand behind her.
The sound of incense being lit and set in place followed.
He placed a cushion two mats’ distance from Yeo Il. In each movement of settling down, one could sense familiarity built from years of repetition.
Amid an unfamiliar solemnity, the man’s sudden voice flowed like a quiet melody.
“Emperor Wu of Liang once asked Bodhidharma—”