The Mantid Maiden - 14
"My lord. Turshan is protesting, claiming we never promised to trade with his tribe alone."
New encounters came and went, new truths were learned — and still, daily life refused to fade away. Moyong Sang-ah turned her ear to the tide of duties pouring in.
"I am the one granting him the Horse Market — I am not his trading partner. Warn him of that. That is, if he wishes to show his face at the next Horse Market at all."
"My lord. The officials are voicing concerns about the foreign tribes, on account of the Horse Market opening for the first time in decades."
"Tell them to come and observe. They will come to understand the reason. If any show signs of wanting a bribe, give it to them. Corrupt officials must be reduced to puppets on our strings."
The greatest problem, as ever, was the Horse Market itself. It was opening for the first time in decades, and it was not a market the Moyong Clan had ever hosted — which meant there was a great deal to attend to.
"My lord. A message has arrived from the Joseon merchant guild. They say they have matters to discuss concerning the ginseng trade."
"Has something gone wrong with the ginseng supply?"
"They say they wish to alter the terms of trade. They want to reduce the gold and silver in the payment, and increase the share of raw silk used for weaving fabric."
"When is the next trade scheduled?"
"In one month."
"Tell them we cannot match their desired volume right away. But if they show their sincerity with a shipment of red ginseng, which stores well over the long term, we will discuss the matter further."
"'Discuss further,' my lord?"
"As I recall, one of our ventures has established itself in Sichuan. Shu Brocade is the costliest silk in all the Central Plains, so have raw silk brought from there — and charge the Joseon merchants a handsome premium for it. That is what business is, is it not? When the other side wants something, this side ought to profit greatly."
"S-such a method! I will see to it at once!"
She had already conquered the trade with Joseon, but she could not afford to grow careless. They were a people who would brave any danger for their own profit, so she had to keep searching for terms that satisfied both sides.
"My lord. I believe we must recruit more instructors for the Chuseondang."
"There are warriors of the cadet branches who have declared their support for me. They long ago washed their hands of family affairs — tell them to get off their backsides and rise again."
Recruiting new talent and winning support within the clan could not be neglected either. Moyong Sang-ah paid particular attention to the selection of instructors.
The Horse Market, the Chuseondang, the Changbong Corps, the merchant ventures, the investigation teams, martial training. Clan affairs, and then other duties still. Busy work does not come calling politely, one item at a time, in due order.
"My lord!"
Moyong Sang-ah was the Master of Changbong Hall. Her subordinates need only carry out the tasks assigned to them, each at their own post — but she, who occupied the seat of decision, always had to render the final verdict.
"My lord!"
There were few hands she could trust with her burdens, and no one to share the weight. To handle the countless critical matters with her own two hands, the first thing Moyong Sang-ah sacrificed was her sleep.
"My lord!"
"My lord! Regarding the recent matter..."
The decisions she had to make kept flooding in.
"My lord? My lady?! MY LADYYYY!"
Moyong Sang-ah's consciousness dimmed in an instant.
"Physician! Is there no physician outside?! The Lady has collapsed!"
When Moyong Sang-ah opened her eyes, she realized she had lost consciousness for a moment. How long had she been out? Her gaze turned to her surroundings.
The Commander of the Changbong Corps was hurriedly calling for a physician. A relief. It had not been long.
"I'm all right."
Struggling to grip the Commander's arm, Moyong Sang-ah spoke.
"My lady! Do not rise — stay still! Physician!"
"Do not call him. I am merely tired."
Had the Commander ever been so terrified as this? Moyong Sang-ah spoke in as calm a voice as she could muster.
"You could be ill, my lady!"
"Do you intend to proclaim to all the world that the Master of Changbong Hall collapsed from mere exhaustion?"
At this rate he would summon every last physician in Shenyang. Moyong Sang-ah barely raised herself from the floor and spoke as though scolding him.
"But, my lord."
When his lord gently pushed him aside and settled into a chair, the Commander spoke with a somewhat calmer expression.
"I know the state of my own body well enough. And are you not plainly worn out yourself right now, Commander?"
"I knew you had been short of sleep of late, but I never dreamed it was this severe. The fault is mine."
He had failed to keep watch on his lord's condition. A shameful thing for the Commander of the Changbong Corps. Moyong Pyeong bowed his head to his lord.
"I know you are pushing yourself too hard as well, Commander. The Horse Market simply swelled our work overnight — do not reproach yourself so."
"Go in early today and rest."
The Commander urged her, worry seeping into his voice.
"There is still work left unhandled."
Moyong Sang-ah shook her head firmly.
"I fear that at this rate, something will go terribly wrong."
"These are matters I must bear."
The final decision-maker of Changbong Hall was herself. If she stopped, Changbong Hall stopped. Gathering her wits once more, Moyong Sang-ah returned to reading the finalized documents.
"My lord..."
His lord's unyielding resolve left the Commander speechless.
Was it duty? Guilt? Whatever the reason, had it not been for her, Changbong Hall could never have grown to what it was now.
The Commander could only watch his lord with sorrowful eyes.
"I will leave for tomorrow what can be done tomorrow."
When the Commander continued to gaze at her in silence, Moyong Sang-ah soon resolved to compromise a little.
There was no need to collapse trying to resolve everything at once. Even if she would not put off her duties, she had learned the art of waiting a moment — learned it crossing blades.
"I will have the physician brew a restorative tonic from our finest ginseng and bring it to you."
"As you wish."
"M-My lady?!"
"I am tired. You are all dismissed for today."
Perhaps because Moyong Sang-ah was leaving earlier than usual, the maids wore expressions like startled puppies at their mistress appearing out of nowhere when she should have been at work.
To make clear she had no strength left for more words, Moyong Sang-ah dismissed the maids with a dry, expressionless face.
The moment they vanished, she let herself collapse onto the bed.
Perhaps because the room had been aired not long ago, the bedclothes were cold.
"Phew."
A sigh heavy with countless anxieties and worries escaped from lips so beautiful they seemed as though not a single care should ever leave them.
It could not be helped.
Moyong Sang-ah was the one who decided.
Hers was not work that ended with jotting numbers, taking notes, and swinging a sword. She was someone who agonized endlessly over a single decision, then had to display a crystal-clear verdict before her subordinates.
How much anguish lay behind each decision that looked so effortless?
She had to weigh the dangers and reckon the gains. She had to ponder the aftershocks of every verdict she handed down. Even back in her room, she could not lie down — she was seized by her worries.
Sometimes the moon would set and the dawn birds' cries would startle her awake; more often than not she rose having barely closed her eyes at all.
"Am I doing this right?"
The cold voices of worry and unease broke the silence of the desolate room.
The urgent tasks were finished. But the disappearance of decisions to be made did not mean the end of her anguish.
For it was the worries that had no answer that tormented her.
"Am I doing well?"
Only one person in the world could answer that question. Moyong Sang-ah stared blankly at the wide bed she lay in alone.
A bed far too spacious for one person. Naturally so. This bed had been replaced two years ago.
Once in a lifetime. A bed a woman had granted to one man alone.
"Husband... am I doing well?"
No answer came.
For she lay alone in a bed meant for two. A bed that had lost its eternal other half — the shoulder that would offer itself when she was weary, the chest that would offer itself when she said she could not go on.
You're doing well.
The love that once whispered to her on the edge of sleep was gone now.
Upon the bed, the anguish in her heart, the weight, the loneliness — none of them resolved, none at all. The hollow in her chest would not be filled.
It must not be filled.
All she was permitted was to surrender her weary body to sleep. Moyong Sang-ah felt her consciousness drift away beneath the crashing fatigue.
It felt like walking upon clouds.
'A field of flowers?'
Spring blossoms spread out in glorious profusion. Moyong Sang-ah lost herself in the scene, for all the world an earthly paradise.
Somehow, it was a spring she knew. A spring of happiness. A spring of longing. A spring utterly, unmistakably familiar.
Yes. It resembled the spring of that day.
'The wedding.'
The happiest moment of her life. The day she gained the most precious other half in the world. It resembled the spring of that day.
Moyong Sang-ah did not care why she was here now, or how she had come. It resembled too closely the spring of that happiest of days.
A happy smile, rarely seen on her face these days, spread across it. Walking slowly, Moyong Sang-ah gazed at the flowers in glorious bloom.
A spring-day vista that would ensnare anyone. And yet, with every step she took, Moyong Sang-ah's expression darkened further and further.
No matter how beautiful the spring day, no matter that it held the very image of that day — the empty place where he should have stood only grew larger.
"So this is where you were."
Moyong Sang-ah's heart lurched. It couldn't be.
Her heart surged wildly. She doubted her own ears — but there was no mistake. The voice behind her was one she could never forget.
Might she turn around? Did she have the right to turn around? Unable even to entertain such questions, Moyong Sang-ah turned, drawn by instinct.
"Husband?"
"Why that startled look?"
An unforgettable voice. A face engraved deep in her heart.
Her eternal love. Her sin that could never be washed away.
Her husband stood before her, wearing a puzzled expression.
'It's a dream.'
Only then did Moyong Sang-ah realize where she was.
Did they say that when a person is too weary and tormented, they dream of happier times in order to survive? If it was true, then she was dreaming the memory of the happiest moment of her life.
"What is the matter?"
A voice too tender drew near. A love drew near — warm, yet tearing her heart to pieces.
A dream. She knew it was a dream. And yet, standing before the face of the husband she had longed so desperately to see, Moyong Sang-ah could not find her bearings — could not know what expression to wear.
"Do not cry."
I cannot cry. I will not cry. I have no right to weep before my husband.
Before the tears spilling through, Moyong Sang-ah could say nothing at all.
"Ah..."
A hand too warm approached her face. Startled, Moyong Sang-ah looked up at her husband.
She wanted to be held. She wanted to be held even now — to rest in his arms and say anything, everything. But Moyong Sang-ah knew instinctively.
She must not touch him.
She must not move. Now that she knew it was a dream, the moment she moved, the dream would break.
She could feel her husband's touch. A warmth soothing her sorrow. The touch of the man who had worried for her even knowing his own death.
'Even just my husband's hand...'
If only she could touch even his fingertips.
Overwhelmed by emotion she could not contain, Moyong Sang-ah carefully moved her hand toward her love. She could feel her husband's steadfast hand.
A touch she had yearned for so desperately.
She felt a gratitude that cut to the bone — and she had to pay for the act.
'No!'
It was beginning to shatter. The dream was beginning to crumble.
"Husband...!"
Startled, she committed act upon forbidden act. The collapsing world drew ever closer.
No. No. Please.
"Huh?! What is this?!"
Her husband had sensed the wrongness. If either of them moved again, the dream would break at once. All that remained to Moyong Sang-ah now was to watch, helpless.
'This time, too.'
Why did she always end up breaking everything? Why did she always, in the end, commit the worst mistake? No matter how she strove and agonized, did she always arrive at an ending like this?
Moyong Sang-ah met Kang Yunho's eyes. A world where everything was false — and yet, somehow, his unforgettable eyes alone gleamed with life.
This time, too, I have shattered your world. It is my fault.
Curse me, if only you would.
Kang Yunho gazed in silence at Moyong Sang-ah in her anguish — then opened his mouth.
The world turned to flowers.
An unforgettable love turned to petals. Moyong Sang-ah's spilling tears did not cease until the world itself ended.
"Husband."
Touching the corner of her eye, Moyong Sang-ah rose from her place.
Her startled heart would not settle easily. Clutching her chest, she noticed something strange about her left hand.
The ring she had been too tired to remove. The Changbai Pure Silver was glowing today, of all days. A hue she felt she had never seen before.
"Could it be... that he really came to me?"
It might simply have been glowing with the light of dawn. But no matter how she turned it over, it did not feel like an ordinary dream.
The ring she had not removed, worn out with exhaustion. The Changbai Pure Silver ring he had left her, telling her to remember him.
Once, it had turned aside the Demonic Cult's assassin. Once, the most grueling of days.
"Are you watching over me, Husband?"
For he had protected her.
"Husband..."
Moyong Sang-ah tenderly closed her hand around her left.
The spring day is gone. A happy spring day like that one would never return to her. And yet.
— Take heart.
Was it merely a dream? Or had he truly paused there a moment, and gone?
It did not matter which.
For the courage to walk into tomorrow — the voice of the one she loved — remained in her heart.
When all things reached their end. To stand before her husband someday — for now, that alone was enough.