The Name She Left Behind
"Cheon-yeong!"
"Don't come any closer! Not if you don't want to watch this wretched girl die."
Hui-yeong pressed a sharp blade to Cheon-yeong's throat. Ji-suk's face twisted.
"How long do you intend to torment that child? Give it up. Cheon-yeong is free now!"
"Says who? This one is mine. I picked her up off the filthy streets, washed her, fed her, taught her, raised her into this. And this is how she repays me? Plotting with some servant girl to reduce me to this?"
Hui-yeong's arm locked around Cheon-yeong's throat. Cheon-yeong thrashed, choking.
"You ungrateful little thing. Do you have any idea how much money and time I spent making a person out of you? You're not going anywhere until you've paid every last bit of it back. With interest, for this little stunt of yours."
Hui-yeong edged slowly toward the door, angling for escape. Every time Ji-suk so much as twitched, the knife flashed in warning. There was no way to stop her.
She couldn't let Cheon-yeong be taken like this. Ji-suk's desperate gaze swept the room — and met Cheon-yeong's, who had managed to force her eyes open.
Cheon-yeong's face was flushed dark from lack of air. She raised a finger to her lips — a signal the two of them had used often.
Quiet. Don't. They're coming.
Ji-suk didn't fully grasp the intent, but she did as Cheon-yeong asked.
"When did you ever wash her, feed her, teach her? You made people like us do all of it!"
"You and every other attendant met this one through me and moved at my command. How is that any different from what I did?"
"It's completely different. I looked Cheon-yeong in the eye and talked with her. When she said she wanted something to eat, I found her something close to it. I couldn't teach her letters, but I showed her how many beautiful things there are in this world."
In the days when Cheon-yeong knew only what Hui-yeong chose to show her, she had been like a talking doll. No chance to think about what she liked or what she wanted — just a puppet that moved as Hui-yeong commanded.
That Cheon-yeong had seemed numb, helpless. But Ji-suk had watched her eyes, always moving, always searching. Those eyes had been full of longing for the world.
"Cheon-yeong is a curious child. A child who wanted to know so much, see so much — and you locked her in a room without even a window."
"And so what? I took her in, fed her, gave her a place to sleep. Was I supposed to haul this one around the countryside on some grand tour?"
"You raised her like livestock. I became her family. Cheon-yeong will never have to deceive anyone again, never be beaten because someone was in a foul mood, never be locked away. She's going to live free!"
When it came to Cheon-yeong, Hui-yeong and Ji-suk would never understand each other. Not in a thousand years.
Hui-yeong stared at Ji-suk, making no effort to hide her incredulity — then the corner of her mouth curled.
"So that's why you came here from the start. To win her over with that silver tongue of yours and turn her against me."
"That's..."
Ji-suk hesitated, unable to deny it. Hui-yeong leaned in and whispered to Cheon-yeong.
"Look at her. In the end, she's just using you too. But can she handle you better than I can? Can she put rice on your table every meal, wrap you in silk quilts, make countless people look up to you in awe?"
Hui-yeong released the arm around Cheon-yeong's throat and gathered her into a gentle embrace. The small, pitifully thin body flinched.
"I'm the one who took you in. Did I truly do nothing but harm you?"
Cheon-yeong lowered her head and took hold of Hui-yeong's arm. Sensing victory, Hui-yeong let out a little giggle.
She had no idea her instincts had already gone wildly, fatally wrong.
"But... Ji-suk taught me what a name is."
"...What? Ji-suk?"
"She taught me that a meal shared tastes better than a meal eaten alone. That when it's cold, holding each other close makes you warm."
Cheon-yeong's fingers dug into Hui-yeong's arm, gripping with all her strength. Hui-yeong tried to shake her off, startled — it wasn't easy.
A child who could barely walk, who had always been carried from place to place, was bound to develop powerful arms.
"Ji-suk taught me what freedom is."
"You — you dare...!"
"I won't live deceiving people anymore."
Sensing Cheon-yeong's resolve, Hui-yeong swung the knife in a fury. Ji-suk was too far to intercept. Cheon-yeong couldn't dodge.
Or rather — she didn't need to.
"Hyaaah!"
Yang Ho-gun burst in with a bizarre battle cry and knocked Hui-yeong's blade aside. Kang Geon-bok charged in right behind him and brought Hui-yeong down.
Cheon-yeong had been knocked over in the scuffle. Ji-suk snatched her up and clutched her close, a hand pressed to her own chest as she caught her breath.
"You're so late!"
"I'm sorry! But we don't have time for this!"
"What?"
"These lunatics set the place on fire!"
Before coming after Cheon-yeong, Hui-yeong had set the house ablaze out of spite. Already half the building was engulfed.
Kang Geon-bok, the strongest of them, scooped up Cheon-yeong — who could barely walk — and they moved fast. The expensive furniture and ornaments Hui-yeong had amassed to dazzle her followers blocked their path at every turn. Yang Ho-gun swung Kang Geon-bok's sword, carving a way through.
There were paintings and treasures rare enough to make anyone's jaw drop. Right now, they were nothing but burning obstacles.
"Damn it, the fire's too strong!"
"Throw this!"
When a corridor wreathed in flame appeared ahead, Cheon-yeong pulled a bottle of fire-quenching water from her sleeve and handed it to Yang Ho-gun. A beat late, he remembered the fire-quenching water he'd prepared himself, and they pressed forward, spraying it in every direction.
While Yang Ho-gun fought to clear a path, Kang Geon-bok held Cheon-yeong tight and muttered without pause.
"It's all right. You're all right. This time I'll save you. It's really all right..."
The memory of watching his family burn to death clawed at him, but the sight of Yang Ho-gun's back ahead and the weight of Cheon-yeong in his arms were just enough to keep him anchored.
Which meant he had no attention left to spare for their surroundings. Unavoidable — and a fatal opening.
"Die!"
From behind a pillar the flames had only just missed, Baek-yeong lunged out and swung a blade at Cheon-yeong.
Yang Ho-gun had already passed that spot. Cheon-yeong, cradled in Kang Geon-bok's arms, had her back completely exposed.
Unable to use either arm, Kang Geon-bok twisted his body to shield her. It wasn't a position he could fully evade from.
The blade sank in with a thick, wet sound.
"Huh?"
But there was no pain. Cheon-yeong's dazed voice reached his ear.
"Ji-suk?"
Ji-suk had thrown herself into the blade's path. Baek-yeong's face contorted as he tried to wrench the knife free, but Ji-suk wouldn't let go.
"Don't... you... touch Cheon-yeong."
"You bitch—!"
"You bastard!"
Yang Ho-gun's sword came down and dropped Baek-yeong. They checked Ji-suk in a panic. It was bad.
"The blade went in too deep..."
"Ji-suk! Ji-suk!"
Cheon-yeong thrashed, reaching for her. Kang Geon-bok held the child fast. They couldn't afford another second of delay.
Yang Ho-gun lifted Ji-suk into his arms.
"The entrance isn't far. We get out first!"
Flames licked at them from every side. The crack of burning timber roared like thunder, and somewhere in the distance something collapsed with a tremendous crash. They made it out of the house in the instant before the ceiling came down.
Catching their breath from the heat was a luxury they didn't have. Yang Ho-gun laid Ji-suk down as gently as he could. Kang Geon-bok set Cheon-yeong down and sprinted for a physician.
Cheon-yeong, always so expressionless, always so composed, took Ji-suk's hand with a face of pure despair.
"Ji-suk, stay with me!"
"Cheon... yeong..."
"Don't die. You can't die! You said you'd give me a name. You said we'd go somewhere no one knows us and live an ordinary life together!"
Ji-suk managed a smile. Cheon-yeong read in it an apology she couldn't take back.
Yang Ho-gun worked desperately to stop the bleeding, but the wound in her abdomen wouldn't close. Blood spilled from Ji-suk's lips.
"My beautiful... Cheon-yeong..."
"No, no, no! Don't call me that! Don't say that!"
"See so many... beautiful things... eat so much... be happy..."
"I don't want to! I don't want to be alone! You're supposed to live with me!"
At last the tears spilled from Cheon-yeong's eyes. Ji-suk's own were slowly closing.
And with that — leaving behind a single name — Ji-suk closed her eyes.
In the car heading back to the production lodging, Su-a was asleep in her mother's arms.
She had spent a long time sobbing at the top of her lungs for the scene. Exhaustion was only natural. A few of the staff had even worried she might collapse.
But the moment Director Hong Il-beom called cut in a hoarse voice, Su-a stopped crying at once. She caught her breath, wiped her tears with cheerful efficiency, and broke into a sheepish little smile. There was not a trace of Cheon-yeong's despair or grief on that face.
Most of the people on set were relieved by the sight, and marveled at her skill. For someone, though, it stirred an entirely different feeling.
The hand Lee Ga-hee used to stroke Su-a's hair trembled, just slightly.