Chapter 21: The Young Master’s Secret

“Well, maybe he just doesn’t care about trivial matters.”

“He doesn’t seem to have any material desires, either.”

“I heard even the lands of Shinneung have been reserved for him, so he has no need to be greedy.”

“Still, when Lord Yubaek was granted his fiefdom, he even stripped the palace officials of their silk robes before leaving, didn’t he?”

“Well, even the Second Princess, generous as she is, doesn’t go around handing out silk.”

“The young master is rather peculiar. Though it suits us just fine.”

Putting together the chatter of the palace attendants who had only seen him for a few days, it seemed that Dan Ijae was closer to being someone without desire than someone generous.

But could one truly live a life free of desire right in the heart of the palace, not in some secluded forest temple like a monk?

If he were an ignorant fool or someone who laughed off anything no matter what happened, perhaps.

But Dan Ijae was clearly not that kind of person.

‘Maybe he’s just the type who finds everything tiresome.’

Sahyeon muttered internally, staring intently at the first line annotated by his master on the bamboo manuscript.

If he had even exchanged a few words with the Great Monk, writing a commentary would’ve been much easier.

Writings like this were meant to be crafted to flatter the patron’s sensibilities, after all.

But in this situation, he had no way of knowing what the Great Monk’s true intentions were.

Did she want a disciple who meekly agreed with her views?

Or one with the courage to challenge them?

A drop of ink at the tip of his brush fell onto the bamboo manuscript.

Sahyeon cleared his throat awkwardly and wrote his master’s name over the ink blot.

“According to the teachings of Chaegong…”

“Were we talking too much?”

One of the palace attendants, who had been grinding ink, cautiously asked.

Seeing Sahyeon sitting in the scholar’s room with all the air of someone undertaking an important task, yet not even beginning to write, it was a fair assumption.

“Oh, no. I was just…formulating my thoughts…”

Afraid his incompetence would be exposed, Sahyeon hastily made excuses, then fell silent.

Back when he was under Chaegong’s tutelage, he had scoffed when others said such things.

Who would’ve thought he’d end up saying them himself?

A wave of self-reproach swept over him, and Sahyeon shut his eyes tightly.

He needed to clear his head.

The air was too stifling…

Though, of course, that was just another excuse…

“I should get some fresh air. You can stay seated. Help yourselves to some dried persimmons…”

Thankfully, rather than mocking him, the attendants whispered, “Ah, we must’ve been too noisy for him to concentrate,” and only sent the youngest attendant out with him.

They still overestimated Sahyeon—for now.

Before leaving, Sahyeon glanced at Dan Ijae’s room.

The door remained firmly shut.

Perhaps it was a blessing he was sleeping in late today.

He was sharp.

Had he been nearby, he would’ve seen right through his inability to write a single decent commentary.

And then, with that as an excuse, he’d have flatly refused to attend any more lessons from someone so beneath his standards.

Not that he had even mastered basic Confucian texts himself.

Narrowing his eyes, Sahyeon gave his door a pointless glare before stepping off the stone porch.

The youngest attendant hurried over to help him into his shoes.

Though it had been a while since sunrise, the northern winter air was bitterly cold, sharp enough to cut the skin.

Sahyeon exhaled deeply, the warm air from his lungs forming a cloud of white vapor that scattered in the wind.

If only he could release the cluttered thoughts in his mind just as easily.

Come to think of it, his elderly master often said one had to burn away idle thoughts to clear the mind.

She’d dry hemp and pack it into her long-stemmed pipe, and sometimes suggested Sahyeon try it.

But every time he saw her sharp eyes go dull with the smoke, he declined.

Perhaps lotus leaf tobacco would be better.

It was said to help monks keep their minds clear.

Sahyeon pursed his lips and blew another puff of warm breath, then turned to the young attendant.

“Have you ever tried lotus leaf tobacco?”

The youngest attendant shook his head, then rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue, scrunching his face in mock disgust.

“You’ve never tried it—so how would you know?”

He glanced toward the other attendants gathered in the scholar’s room.

Someone among them must’ve tried it out of curiosity.

“Are there any side effects? Like…your appetite not returning?”

The attendant shook his head, but his expression turned ambiguous.

It meant that while the experience was painful, there were no lasting aftereffects—but he wouldn’t recommend it.

“I just want to try one puff…”

But just as Sahyeon brought the long-stemmed pipe close, his eyes narrowed.

The youngest attendant had never worn such a disapproving expression before, and he felt a little embarrassed, turning his gaze to the reflection in the courtyard pond.

Footsteps faded away behind him.

Moments later, the youngest returned, carrying a long-stemmed pipe with the distinct scent of lotus tobacco still clinging to it, and held it out to him with both hands.

“You actually brought it?”

He had thought of trying it, yes—but now that it was in front of him, all the terrible stories he’d heard about lotus tobacco came rushing back.

The taste of a burning tongue, the urge to cut it off after just one puff, vomiting the moment it touched your lips…

“Isn’t this the young master’s pipe? How could I…”

The attendant shook his head firmly.

Apparently, it was a spare.

Was this the price of his foolish curiosity?

If he didn’t try it now, he’d keep wondering about it.

Glancing at the attendant, Sahyeon brought the pipe closer.

His tongue felt parched, and his throat ached.

If he inhaled smoke now, it would sting even more. He hesitated.

Should he just forget about it?

But then he’d seem weak.

Or maybe—like the monks—it would really clear his mind.

Though, of course, there were others who smoked it daily and still lived in a drunken haze.

He took a deep breath.

Why not?

It wasn’t like one puff would kill him.

Just take one good drag and be done with it.

At least then, the youngest attendant’s effort wouldn’t be wasted.

Resolving himself, he picked up the pipe again.

Nervously parting his lips, he brought the mouthpiece close—and at that moment…

–Screeeeeech!!

A white hawk swooped down from nowhere and snatched the pipe with its huge talons.

“Wha…?”

At once bewildered and oddly relieved, Sahyeon’s thoughts were cut short as the young attendant, startled, dropped to his knees in a panic.

Sahyeon turned in alarm—and came face-to-face with a tall shadow that had been standing behind him all along.

Draped in deep navy robes as dark as the new moon sky, Dan Ijae raised one arm toward the heavens.

The white hawk, which had been circling above, spread its wings wide and gently descended to perch on his arm.

“Lotus tobacco, is it?”

Thin wisps of smoke still curled from the pipe’s mouthpiece.

That the hawk had swooped down so dramatically and yet kept the fire alive was impressive.

Though it hadn’t helped Sahyeon one bit.

Suppressing a sigh, he lowered his gaze.

At his feet, the young attendant trembled pitifully.

Sahyeon thought it was a bit much for simply bringing some lotus tobacco—especially since they’d been stealing dried persimmons from the pantry without guilt.

But who knew?

Maybe Dan Ijae valued lotus tobacco more than gold.

Feeling he should protect the attendant first, Sahyeon stepped in front of him.

“I asked for it. I just wanted to try it once.”

Then he gestured behind him, signaling for the young attendant to retreat toward the others.

He got up hesitantly, bowed repeatedly to Dan Ijae, and ran off toward the main quarters.

“Lotus tobacco, huh?”

A light scoff brushed past his ear.

Embarrassed, Sahyeon lowered his head, trying to hide his flushed face.

But upon reconsideration, it felt unfair.

If one were to judge right and wrong, wasn’t it more problematic that Dan Ijae, who didn’t even do the studies he was supposed to as a Confucian scholar and just slept in late, than Sahyeon, who had merely tried to smoke the bitter lotus grass?

“As the young master, who always smokes lotus grass, did not rise even with the sun high in the sky, I wondered if it might have the effect of causing drowsiness and decided to test it. Or perhaps… it might have a toxicity that induces laziness in people.”

Of course, he hadn’t originally intended to fire off such harsh words…

Sahyeon let out a fake cough and lifted his head.

The water was already spilled; he had no choice now but to walk forward with confidence.

Dan Ijae narrowed his eyes.

Sahyeon suddenly noticed that when his eyes narrowed, the deep blue hue that normally engulfed the upper part of his pupils disappeared.

Perhaps because that rough wave-like color that used to make him feel seasick was gone, it became much easier to face his now clear amber eyes.

Maybe that’s why Dan Ijae’s stern expression didn’t feel as frightening.

After a brief moment, Dan Ijae’s eyes gently curved into a smile.

“I’ve never thought of it that way before…”

As he took a step toward Sahyeon, the white pine hawk that had been perched on his arm, preening its feathers, flapped its wings and took off.

Only then did Sahyeon realize that he had been blankly staring up into his eyes.