Now that he had said his piece, it was time to observe Dan Ijae’s reaction.
Since the conclusion was basically to study, Sahyeon thought he might be wearing a bored expression.
Surprisingly, however, there was a glimmer of interest in his eyes.
It wasn’t exactly admiration for Sahyeon’s lecture, though.
It was more like… the look of someone tossing a snack to a street storyteller for amusement.
In other words, he was treating it like a spectacle.
“Did you even listen to what I said?”
“This one… always looking for a fight, no matter the time. Was it you, by chance, who that executioner once bet on in the cockfighting pit?”
“Well, yes, I guess that was when I escaped from the cockfighting pit.”
Dan Ijae chuckled and grabbed Sahyeon’s wrist.
“Judging by your lack of energy, I doubt you were one of the winning roosters.”
Sahyeon yanked his hand away and narrowed his eyes.
“Fighting is meant to be done with sheer grit.”
“Well, that applies to street brawls.”
But his wrist, which had barely been freed, was grabbed again.
“That’s not the kind of place you’ll be fighting in from now on, is it?”
This time, he couldn’t shake off the hand.
Sahyeon simply fidgeted with his fingers as they grew pale under Dan Ijae’s firm grip.
He still couldn’t fully grasp Dan Ijae’s nature.
He wasn’t foolish, nor did he seem to lack learning ability.
So it wasn’t that he couldn’t finish his studies by this age—he simply hadn’t.
Was he, like the Second Princess Dan Yun, deliberately lowering his profile to stay out of the line of succession?
Was it really a good thing to have pulled someone like that into the classroom?
Dan Ijae finally released his grip.
The once-pale palm turned red from the pressure.
His large hand, which had been on Sahyeon’s wrist, slid down and wiped the ink smudge off Sahyeon’s fingertips.
Every time his thumb rubbed the tips with a squeaky motion, it pricked at Sahyeon’s chest like a long needle.
He quickly pulled his hand away.
Dan Ijae dusted off his now-empty hand.
“Since you taught me letters, I’ll repay you this afternoon.”
“There’s no need. A teacher doesn’t expect repayment from a student.”
“Isn’t there a saying that one must repay the kindness of parents? A teacher is like a parent, so I can’t forget this favor.”
“Then just give me some silk so I can remake the clothes I had to throw away.”
“No, I’m sure you received silk from the king. I should repay you with something of my own.”
“But what you can give me is silk.”
“There’s something you need more than silk.”
“Right now, silk is what I need most.”
“Ah, I’ve got a good idea. I’ll become your teacher this afternoon.”
“I don’t believe that’s such a good idea.”
“You need to learn how to fight properly. That way, we can avoid future incidents.”
Sahyeon badly wanted to argue, but if he did, the “incident” from two days ago would surely be brought up again.
He had no choice but to keep his mouth shut.
As if to signal the end of the lesson, Dan Ijae rolled up the bamboo slips on the desk from one end.
Watching them tumble out from beneath the fluttering leather strap, Sahyeon thought:
The old librarian’s going to have a hard time fixing that mess.
***
While the palace attendants brought in a feast fit for such a historic first lesson, Dan Ijae claimed he had no appetite and strode right out of Gamcheondang.
In the end, Sahyeon had to eat alone again while the palace staff silently watched.
Still, it was better than sharing an awkward meal with Dan Ijae.
“Do you like the steamed cod, sir? When we heard you’d be giving your first lesson today, we rushed to the food stores at dawn and picked the plumpest one.”
“Perfect timing, too—it’s fish delivery day.”
“Next time, we’ll go even earlier and aim for sea bream. Only five came in today, and Sugyeongdang took them all.”
“That’s because the Fifth Prince is so filial. Lady Yeongeon loves sea bream.”
“Does she love it more than Lord Taejeong?”
At that, the palace staff exchanged glances and chuckled.
Sahyeon rolled his eyes and continued eating chunks of soft, tender cod.
The cod had a fluffy, delicate texture, fresh and with hardly any fishy smell.
It had been a long time since he’d had fish that just fell apart under chopsticks without needing to scrape it off the bones.
“I think cod tastes better…”
“That’s only because you’ve never had truly good sea bream, sir!”
“Those Sugyeongdang lot can go eat nothing but pollack soup next time.”
“Don’t misunderstand, sir. We weren’t insulting the Fifth Prince.”
Sahyeon awkwardly nodded and slurped the soup made from duck bones, winter greens, and bamboo shoots.
“But is the Fifth Prince really that filial?”
He casually posed the question he hadn’t dared ask before, fearing the attendants might clam up.
Fifth Prince Dan Ye.
The aging king didn’t have many wives still living.
Among them, the only one with a child still residing in the palace was Lady Yeongeon in Un-Gyeong Palace.
Because of that, some whispered that the king might secretly favor Dan Ye as the successor.
Of course, unlike with the Second Princess Dan Yun, he had never explicitly shown such intent.
Rumor had it that even those persistent court officials thought, “If the king rejects Lord Taejeong and names Dan Ye as the next heir, that might be acceptable.”
He was considered excellent kingly material—well-versed in academics, skilled in martial arts with military leadership experience, modest and cautious in nature, and never one to flaunt himself.
Even now, while everyone else tried to gauge the king’s intentions in sending Sahyeon here, only Dan Ye had not come to see him.
Judging by what was said, he sounded like the perfect man, but…
“Are you referring to the Fifth Prince? Yes, indeed. Even now, he visits Jeonghan Palace every morning without fail to pay respects to Lady Yeongeon.”
One attendant gushed with admiration, but another added brusquely,
“Well, the others don’t have anyone to visit.”
Once again, the attendants exchanged knowing looks, as if everything had just clicked into place. Sahyeon still didn’t understand what was what…
“But you’ll know right away when you see the Fifth Prince. He’s tall, handsome, always polite…”
“He even stole our dried persimmons.”
“Hey! That was the Sugyeongdang staff’s doing!”
“Don’t listen to him, sir. Our prince is far more handsome.”
“No one said he was more handsome than the Eighth Prince! Just that he’s handsome!”
“Maybe eating our dried persimmons gave him that good skin.”
“You think he offered those to the king? The Sugyeongdang staff probably gobbled them all up!”
Realizing he wouldn’t get any useful information out of these people, Sahyeon decided to focus on the cod instead.
Just as he lifted a piece of the pearly fish onto his white rice and looked up, he spotted the youngest attendant sitting quietly behind the others, shaking his head vigorously while staring straight at him.
How long had he been doing that?
Surely he wasn’t warning him not to eat more cod…
“To be honest, I just don’t like the Sugyeongdang staff.”
At that moment, the big man who had been ranting about dried persimmons muttered bitterly.
Everyone turned to look at him.
“Fifth Young Master and Lady Yeong-eon were too much. Just look at what they did to the youngest.”
The palace official, who had opened his mouth as if to object, closed it again at the mention of “the youngest.”
Only then did the youngest palace official stop shaking his head and shrink his shoulders.
“What do you mean by what they did to the youngest palace official?”
It couldn’t have been something utterly heinous.
If it were, others wouldn’t have praised the Fifth Young Master so carelessly.
But seeing how everyone wore such solemn expressions…
The large palace official began to tremble, breathing heavily through clenched teeth, and then stormed out of the reception room.
Sahyeon looked around at the others with a pleading expression, silently asking someone to explain.
Finally, one palace official approached on his knees and whispered,
“The truth is…”
***
Several years ago, there was an attempted poisoning incident at Sugyeongdang.
It happened in early autumn, when the weather had just begun to cool.
One early morning, after paying his respects to Lady Yeong-eon, the Fifth Young Master, Dan-ye, was served breakfast.
Suddenly, the head court lady, who had long served him up close, pushed the table away and said,
“There’s a strange smell coming from the soup. Please check it.”
The head court lady scooped the soup into a new bowl and placed it in front of the palace officials in charge of his meal.
As the pale-faced officials hesitated and looked to one another, someone pushed the youngest official forward.
He was new to the palace, had formed no meaningful relationships, came from a poor family with no standing, and wasn’t strong-willed enough to resist.
Pressed by the gaze of his lofty master and the stern head court lady, the youngest official had no choice but to take the bowl.
As he cautiously sipped the soup, he suddenly collapsed, vomiting black blood.
He convulsed on the floor, clawing at it in agony as his throat burned.
Yet everyone else only prostrated themselves, desperately pleading their innocence to their superior.
Not a single person called for a physician.
The youngest official was only sent to a physician much later, after barely surviving four days and nights on the brink of death.
Although he eventually regained consciousness, his throat and tongue had been severely damaged, making it nearly impossible for him to speak.
After barely recovering and returning to Sugyeongdang, Lady Yeong-eon herself visited and cast him out, saying, “It is ill-omened to keep a maimed person near during a time of misfortune.”
If a palace official had no assignment, they were forced to leave the palace.
The youngest official, who had entered the palace simply to reduce the burden on his poor family, now had no place to return to—especially without a voice.
He wandered the palace, begging to be given any kind of menial work, but in the end, found nowhere to stay.
Just as he was about to be expelled, the officials from Gamcheondang, who had rushed to secure ingredients at dawn, discovered him and carried him back.
They then pleaded with their master, who had just returned home, asking if he could be allowed to stay there until a place was found for him.
Danijae looked at the youngest official trembling behind the large palace official and calmly said,
“Being mute is not the only issue. There are many problems. But there’s no need to look elsewhere. Let him stay here.”
That was how the youngest palace official came to stay at Gamcheondang.