Chapter 46 Each time he came, he never once took his eyes off Yeo Il's face, as if desperately waiting for her to wake. Because of that, Yeo Il could not properly rest.
It became such a nuisance that she eventually pretended to regain consciousness three days earlier than she had planned.
"Hui-myeong."
As always, Namgung Hui-myeong entered the room naturally. But upon seeing Yeo Il sitting upright with a perfectly normal complexion, he stood frozen for a long while.
"…Soyo."
He staggered forward and grabbed her shoulders, examining her from head to toe.
"Are you conscious? Are you all right? Your body? Does anything hurt? Ah, no—don't speak. You must not strain your throat. For the time being, absolutely do not use your voice. Absolutely!"
"Mm."
"Don't even make groaning sounds."
"Cough…"
"Don't cough either!"
What was she supposed to do then?
So he can make that kind of face as well.
Where had his usual bold and confident demeanor gone? Standing before her, he looked like a restless dog, and the sight was oddly pitiful.
Does he blame himself?
She vomited blood and collapsed right before his eyes. It was only natural he would suffer considerable shock.
"Hoo. Still, you carry Namgung blood—your recovery is twice as fast as others. The medicinal herbs suit you well and their effects are excellent… You will probably be able to speak normally again before autumn."
When had that setting been added?
Unfortunately, Yeo Il had no intention whatsoever of living as a mute until autumn. She already walked about with her eyes closed—if she had to keep her mouth shut as well, she might lose her temper.
"Why have you grown so thin, Namgung Soyo? Of course, you lay unconscious for several days, so it's only natural. Haaah—"
That was not true.
In reality, the time Yeo Il spent sweating during detoxification amounted to barely half a day.
After nightfall, she filled her stomach with food Changa secretly brought, and with Jin Cheong-ak guarding her, she regulated her internal energy. There was hardly any chance she would grow thinner.
"Tch. That skin that was once worth looking at has turned dry like straw. For someone as weak and small as you… no, not small. Just perpetually frail. After being ill so long, it is hardly strange."
That was not true either.
Not only did she expel the poison swiftly through internal energy, she spent several days harmonizing body and mind for the first time in a long while. Her complexion glowed, and even her lips shone faintly.
Is it not I who cannot see, but Namgung Hui-myeong?
With the added setting that she could not speak, she could not even argue.
"You know, if the wine smelled strange, you should have secretly thrown it away… Hoo. Forget it, forget it. I have no position to say such things when I was the one who urged you to drink. Forget it. It keeps bothering me, and my mouth moves on its own."
"..."
"Anyway, I'm glad you woke up, Namgung Soyo. Rest well today. Think of nothing, listen to no news. I'll come again tomorrow. …If anything happens, call for me. Promise."
Only after Yeo Il hooked her little finger with the one he extended did Namgung Hui-myeong slowly rise.
Opening her eyes slightly, she saw that though his steps were as straight as always, they wavered in some subtle way. It seemed much of the tension and worry had lifted upon her awakening.
Once his presence had completely vanished, Seol-yeong spoke lightly.
"You may find it somewhat troubling."
"Troubling?"
"…Well, when everything here at the Namgung Clan comes to an end. No matter how icy your heart may be, Miss, I imagine that Third Young Master will linger in your thoughts."
Seol-yeong added that though his first impression made one want to smack him on the head, the more one knew him, the more he seemed warm-hearted—though still irritating—before leaving to help Changa prepare food.
When everything at the Namgung Clan comes to an end.
At most, perhaps one season.
One season was nothing.
Yeo Il parted without hesitation even from those she lived with like siblings for two years.
Of course, things did not go entirely as planned then—but as Seol-yeong said, it was not because "past ties lingered."
Thus, when she left the Namgung Clan, there would be no problem. Certainly.
"Jin Cheong-ak."
There was no answer. It seemed he had left the Namgung Clan again without a word.
He no longer even watches my mood?
Perhaps she should pick a day and follow him. Yes, at this point, it was about time…
For Jin Cheong-ak to begin planning how to escape from her as well.
On a dark night when owls cried,
Yeo Il suddenly sensed someone enter her room.
The secret visitor was neither Jin Cheong-ak, nor Seol-yeong, nor Changa. The man sat silently at the table for quite some time, speaking only after Yeo Il rose and seated herself opposite him.
"Is your body well?"
She nodded quietly. Namgung Jeok-myeong spoke in a subdued voice.
"Still too early to speak, it seems. More fragile than I thought."
Yeo Il moved her brush across the paper prepared for such a moment. In the pitch darkness, the brush soaked in ink blacker still danced lightly.
"…Your handwriting is rather poor."
She almost replied that this was the best she could manage, but held back.
"I have been thinking."
Namgung Jeok-myeong let out a dry laugh.
"I do. Everywhere. Whether Chu-myeong's rites as they stand are sufficient. Now that the fake has been driven out, how the remaining parasites should be handled. To whom I should entrust the clan while I visit the Murim Alliance…."
"..."
"How far you have extended your hand."
"..."
"Whether my decision to keep you within the clan was profoundly foolish."
While Yeo Il rested under the pretext of treatment, Namgung Jeok-myeong seemed to have pondered whether all of this was her scheme.
If he heard the full account from Namgung Hui-myeong, there were certainly grounds for suspicion. Moreover, Jin Cheong-ak possessed the antidote at precisely the right moment.
After a silence laced with faint tension, Namgung Jeok-myeong said,
"But what has happened has happened. As you risked your life to eliminate the fake, I too must pay a fitting price."
He rose and began to walk.
"Follow me. Alone."
The door opened. Yeo Il naturally extended her arm and waved her hand—clearly conveying that unless he took her hand and led her, she would not move an inch.
"..."
After standing stubbornly in silent protest, Namgung Jeok-myeong finally let out a short sigh and took her hand.
They walked for quite some time.
Toward the Northern Hall?
The Northern Hall was the domain of the Gaju.
They followed a path so long that even the chirping of crickets could not be heard.
Passing through the chill night air, Yeo Il eventually stopped before a door. Namgung Jeok-myeong opened the paper door and drew her inside, seating her upon the cold floor.
He spoke.
"The one lying before you now is my father, Namgung Je."
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