“You’ll shit all you want before you go, huh.”
The words weren’t exactly sweet.
“What the…”
A blade sharp as an awl pierced through the man’s throat.
His heavy body spasmed violently, releasing a warm fluid all over Chae Gyong’s lower body.
Chae Gyong squeezed his eyes shut.
The moisture that had welled up in the corners of his eyes streamed down his cheeks.
He wished that disgusting liquid had at least been blood. Damn it, damn it…
The spasming body soon went limp.
Dan I-jae didn’t even bother pulling the blade out from the man’s neck as he shoved the corpse away like garbage.
Only then did Chae Gyong open his tightly shut eyes.
Suddenly, Dan I-jae’s hand hovered before his face.
With his index finger, he brushed under Chae Gyong’s eye, then brought the fingertip to his tongue.
“Crying?”
“Who said I’m crying!”
Chae Gyong hastily sat up and straightened his collar.
Relief and gratitude washed over him briefly, but what soon surged was a fresh wave of shame — at having shown such weakness.
How pathetic must he have looked?
A court official, nearly assaulted on the filthy ground because he couldn’t even handle a single gatekeeper.
And wasn’t it during their very first meeting that he had been chased by a gang of thugs trying to sell him off?
If Dan I-jae used any of that as an excuse to reject Chae Gyong as his teacher, not only the king but everyone in the palace would understand.
Who would trust a man who couldn’t even protect himself to teach others in such turbulent times?
“Why did you kill him?”
Chae Gyong asked with a voice trembling violently.
“What do you mean?”
“No matter how high your status, if you kill someone so easily, rumors will spread. Even if His Majesty has named you heir to Shinreung-hu, if the people’s opinion turns, that decision can always be reversed. So why did you kill him?”
Dan I-jae let out a laugh that sounded more exasperated than amused.
“Don’t you think it’s better for you this way? You saw today how quickly rumors spread in the palace. Even if I’d spared him, more filth would’ve spread. Better that he rot here with the chicken I just slaughtered.”
“That may be better for me, but shouldn’t you do what’s best for yourself, my lord? Since ancient times, one who hasn’t mastered the Xiaoxue is no better than a suckling infant. What help do you think an infant can offer?”
“Damn it, must you spout that Xiaoxue nonsense all the time? Do you think you’re in a position to lecture me right now?”
“You’re always drinking, couldn’t even protect your own bird—now you’ve killed a man. Who’s going to look kindly on you for that?”
He thought he’d grown used to holding back tears, but somehow, in front of this wretched man, he couldn’t control himself.
Tears he had desperately held back now poured down both cheeks.
Chae Gyong murmured, unable to even think of wiping them away.
“I could’ve handled it. I could’ve killed him myself.”
Dan I-jae took the rock still clenched in Chae Gyong’s hand as if taking back something stolen.
“With this? You’d be lucky to beat someone half to death. I didn’t take you for the brutal type, Baek Munhak.”
Chae Gyong let out a hollow laugh.
Sniffling, wiping his eyes over and over.
He was a mess, tears streaming, yet hearing such ridiculous words made him laugh anyway.
Dan I-jae reached out again.
He gently touched the split lip, then traced along the swelling on Chae Gyong’s cheek.
His cold fingers calmed the throbbing pain somewhat.
Chae Gyong, without thinking, leaned into his hand and stared blankly into his eyes.
Strangely, he couldn’t quite make out Dan I-jae’s expression.
“Maybe I let him off too easy? Should’ve just killed him with this.”
Half of the swelling was probably Yu Baek-hu’s fault… but Chae Gyong couldn’t bring himself to say that.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve thanked you first.”
“And I should thank you for realizing it so soon.”
Dan I-jae, even while teasing, didn’t move his hand from Chae Gyong’s face.
“Yeonju isn’t a place fit to live.”
The corners of Chae Gyong’s eyes stung.
He closed them tightly, squeezing out the last of his tears.
“It’s too cold.”
A tear-soaked finger scrubbed across his cheek.
A thumb forced his eyelid open.
Dan I-jae’s face moved close enough that their breaths almost touched.
Swallowing the urge to recoil, Chae Gyong forced himself to look straight into his eyes.
“For over forty years, Taejeong-gong has been supported by the Ma clan and the senior ministers of the Daeseong court — those who handle appointments, administration, economy, and ritual law. Do you really think there’s a place for you in that tight-knit circle?”
A low whisper.
A faint smile at the corner of his lips.
Why was Dan I-jae saying this now?
Chae Gyong’s hand clenched tighter around his collar.
“My father will not change the successor. It’s already too late.”
Dan I-jae withdrew his hand, wiping away the moisture left on his fingers by brushing it off on his robe.
“There’s no place for you here in Yeonju. Leave, before you suffer worse. That senior fellow of yours seemed strong. Why not go farm fertile land with him? Get away from this mud-slinging world and quietly reflect on your master’s teachings.”
“Who knows — one day you might become a renowned scholar like Chae Gong. Wouldn’t spreading the name of Baek Munhak in such a way be just as honorable as chasing grand ambitions?”
As if he’d said everything he needed to, Dan I-jae began to rise.
Chae Gyong reached out in a hurry and grabbed his sleeve.
“I… I can’t live like that. No, I mustn’t.”
His ragged breaths turned to pale mist and vanished in the cold air before reaching Dan I-jae.
Dan I-jae frowned and looked down at the hand clinging to his robe.
“Why not?”
“I was nothing but a weed. One trampled and kicked aside without even knowing who did it or why. Just struggling to survive another day.”
“Even in Maechun, I was thrown into the fights of people who didn’t care about my will or hopes, crushed without even understanding why I had to die. Do you know the fear that comes from ignorance? The helplessness of being swallowed by total darkness?
I mustn’t live like that again.
If the fingertips of the powerful can shake the world, then even if I must crawl at their feet, I will follow those fingers’ direction.
I will lick those feet and beg if I have to, just to make those fingers point the way I wish.
That’s why I came to Pasa, leaving my master’s corpse behind.
Clinging to that speck of hope, I begged you to read even a single line of scripture…”
The hand clutching his robe trembled.
Chae Gyong lowered his forehead to the back of that hand.
He hadn’t expected to reveal so much — not to the Eighth Prince, who neither liked him nor had any real value to his plans.
Surely, a cold sneer would follow.
A man nearly dragged off by a mere gatekeeper dares to dream of noble causes?
A weed’s struggle will never bloom.
There was no shortage of ways to mock him.
And Chae Gyong knew it well.
“So, if I study Xiaoxue, you think you’ll achieve your goal?”
But what came back was a question tinged with… strange kindness.
Chae Gyong slowly raised his head.
A puff of white breath rose from his lips.
“Alright then. I’ll see what you’re trying to do. Come to Gamcheondang at chen-shi (7–9 a.m.) the day after tomorrow. Don’t show up at court tomorrow. If you walk around looking like that, people will say I beat you.”
“Then…”
Dan I-jae slapped Chae Gyong’s hand away and stood up.
Clicking his tongue in annoyance, he took off his bloodstained cloak and draped it over Chae Gyong’s shoulders.
“You don’t need to return the clothes. Just burn them or something.”
The question “Why burn perfectly fine clothes?” didn’t linger long.
As Sahyeon tried to stand up on trembling legs, the sticky liquid smeared on his pants brought back the nightmare from just moments ago.
With a grimace, Sahyeon wiped the fluid off his hands onto a nearby wall.
Damn bastard—should’ve crushed his damn head.
Who would’ve thought he’d still spew semen even in death.
“What should we do with the body?”
“Leave it. Either a dog will eat it, or someone will come clean it up.”
“The lady’s sword…”
“Oh, that? Not a sword.”
Not a sword?
The weapon that had pierced a man’s throat and crushed his spine?
Sahyeon had assumed it was some kind of dagger.
He turned toward the corpse, but in the darkness, he could make out nothing more than a faint outline.
If it was something that could reveal Chae Gong’s identity, it would be better to recover it.
“Then what was it?”
“Chopsticks.”
Chae Gong scoffed and tossed the remaining chopstick beside the corpse.
“I always carry a pair, just in case I need to kill someone on the road.”
Whether she meant it or not was impossible to tell.
Just like when she had arrived, she disappeared soundlessly into the darkness.
The narrow alley returned to its deep silence.
Sahyeon leaned against the wall and began taking steps forward, barely able to move.
His pants were still uncomfortably damp with that wretched body fluid, and Chae Gong’s clothing dragged along the ground, constantly tangling around his ankles.
But he couldn’t throw it away—cumbersome as it was.
It was pitch-dark here, but once he entered the inn, he’d need something to hide his horrific state.
Suddenly, he heard the soft flutter of wings.
Looking up, he saw the white pine hawk circling above his head, as if to light his way.
Without realizing it, a smile formed on his swollen lips.
At least this time, unlike back then, I’m not alone.
Like a man clawing his way out of a swamp, he forced his heavy steps forward, heading toward the faint light at the end of the alley.