Chapter 130: When the Flowers Bloom in Spring-2
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 130: When the Flowers Bloom in Spring-2
The funeral began the day after her master died.
The dazed maid sat by the bed where her master had drawn his last breath, weeping mindlessly all day long. Had the son of the general store owner not been unsettled by the screams echoing from the mansion and called for help to force the door open, the maid might have stayed there, weeping until she followed him in death.
The townspeople were sincerely saddened by the passing of the once-famous author. Though his family’s fortunes had declined and his exit was terribly lonely, they remembered the warmth of the words he had written.
Everyone lent a hand to prepare the funeral.
His name appeared in the obituary section of the daily newspaper.
His body was taken to the undertaker, who meticulously cleaned the frame of the writer whose soul had already departed. Only after placing his favorite clothes and the symbols of his identity—his pen and notebook—into the casket did the funeral truly begin.
The only attendees were the townspeople and his maid.
One by one, the mourners arrived and placed flowers before the casket. Given the time of year, most were winter blooms. Some wiped away tears as they remembered him, a man as gentle as a spring breeze; others bit their lower lips in regret and retreated to a far corner to light their pipes.
Three days passed, and the casket was buried in the graveyard.
As the earth fell over the wood, a solemn song played. The funeral was conducted quietly and with great dignity. Throughout the entire process, the maid simply stayed by her master’s side, saying nothing.
"......"
The people returned to their homes.
Emma, Kang In-ho’s maid, stared blankly at the grave where her master was buried. She stood there for hours. In that motionless stance, there was not a single tremor, not a single sound.
There was only silence upon silence.
It was only when the sun began to set that she finally trudged back toward the house.
*
Opening the firmly locked iron gates, Emma dragged her feet into the mansion.
Creak, creak.
The sound of the wooden stairs was mournful.
Knock, knock.
Reaching the second floor, Emma habitually knocked on her master’s bedroom door.
"Ah... ah..."
Then, the reality hit her. She realized exactly what she had just sent away.
"Ah... ahhh..."
Sliding down to the floor, she collapsed and wailed, thick tears streaming down her face. Her voice was already hoarse; only the sound of escaping air wheezed from her throat, unable to form a proper cry.
She dug her nails into the bedroom door and scratched. Her nails dragged against the grain of the wood, making a grating, unpleasant noise. By now, the door should have opened, but it remained firmly shut.
"Ugh... hugh..."
Emma beat her chest. The physical pain of her own fists was nothing compared to the lump of sorrow lodged in her throat that refused to leave. She gasped for air, terrified by the fact that she was now truly alone in this vast mansion.
She gripped the doorknob and barely managed to pull herself up. Then, staggering, she headed back down the stairs. Her destination was the kitchen.
She searched for a knife that was easy to grip and had a sharp edge. Clutching it tightly with both hands, Emma glared at the blade and held it to her throat. Whether out of fear of impending death or the hope of seeing her master again, the hand holding the knife shook violently.
"Whew..."
She took a deep breath, hardening her heart. Just as she was about to thrust the blade—
Ding-dong.
The doorbell rang abruptly.
"......"
Emma hesitated. Should she plunge the knife into her throat without further delay, or should she greet the person who had come to the mansion so late at night?
Perhaps it was an old friend of her master who had heard the news late.
She put the knife back in its place and straightened her clothes. Even if In-ho was dead, she was still his maid. To show a disheveled appearance to another would be to bring shame upon her master.
*
The visitor was Mr. Ricardo from the Rohid Vissen Weekly, someone Emma had seen a few times before.
Emma greeted him with a somber face, and Ricardo followed her guidance into the drawing room.
"This letter... you sent it, didn't you, Miss Emma?"
He pulled a letter from his coat and showed it to her. It was the letter her master had asked her to mail before he died.
"Yes. It is likely a letter from my master regarding his new work."
Even though that new work can no longer be serialized.
"The handwriting was so messy and there were several grammatical errors, so I was half-doubting it," Ricardo said, nodding at her words.
"I see. But what brings you here...?"
"Well, according to the letter, it says there is a manuscript by Master In-ho."
"Yes. But that manuscript is..."
"Written in unreadable characters, isn't it?"
"How did you know that?"
"Look at this letter."
Ricardo handed the letter to Emma. With trembling hands, she examined the last trace left by her master. The content was simple, yet bizarre.
When Emma finished reading and looked up at him, Ricardo spoke.
"Master In-ho said that if it's you, you'll be able to decode it."
Emma thought of the note In-ho had given her, but she remained silent.
"To be honest, I don't care if the final work he left behind is a masterpiece or a failure. I simply want to serialize it as a final gesture of respect to the deceased."
"Can you... decode the Master’s final work?"
"But I haven't been told anything specific."
She averted her eyes, lacking confidence. Hearing her voice, which was completely hoarse, Ricardo made a pitying expression.
"I'm not asking for it right this second. Master In-ho also said it would take time. Here is the next page of the letter."
Ricardo pulled another sheet from his coat and handed it to her. It was a paper densely packed with the names of various locations.
"This is?"
"Well... he said these are the places he visited to learn those characters. Perhaps there are clues there."
"......"
Emma silently stroked the paper with her palm.
"Oh, look at the time."
Ricardo pretended to check his watch and stood up. Putting on his overcoat, he emphasized his point once more as he prepared to leave the mansion.
"As I said, I don't care how long it takes. Please decode the Master’s work. If only for the sake of his honor."
"...I will try my best."
Her master's honor was at stake. Emma had no reason to refuse.
"Ah, he also wrote that you should use as much as you need to travel to those regions. Don't push yourself to save on expenses for no reason."
Ricardo left the mansion, and Emma, unable to even think of seeing him out, fell deep into thought.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out the small slip of paper.
The unintelligible characters her master had written.
And.
Her own handwriting that read: [When the Flowers Bloom in Spring.]
She looked at the letter she had received from Ricardo again. The names of various regions and the names of inns.
She didn't know what it all meant yet, but Emma’s task was clear.
"Master, I will bring your work into the world."
The next day, the gates of the mansion were firmly closed, and the mansion's maid vanished without a trace.