Even My Life Is Yours Chapter 62

The first round of the finals was Hongyo’s victory, overturning everyone’s expectations. But Gamyoung was not happy at all. It felt like he would do anything if he could just stop the match right now. As he had feared, Hongyo’s head had just been nearly crushed. If Jang Daeho hadn’t stopped his punch for some reason, the aftermath was too horrible to even imagine.

For the first time, Gamyoung regretted bringing Hongyo into Hwayeonggyeong. If she had stayed outside, she would never have met a ruthless bastard like Jang Daeho, but watching the match earlier had been suffocating.

“Are you all right? Your complexion is not good at all.”

Gamyoung turned to look at the Pangam who had spoken to him gently. The voice of the man who had been silent until just now was quite affectionate. However, the eyes that studied his complexion were sharp and piercing, as if searching for something. Gamyoung fixed his expression upon seeing the Pangam.

“I haven’t been feeling well since this morning.”

“Oh my. Well, it is a good time to catch a cold.”

“……”

“Your Highness, the Royal Brother, must also take good care of your esteemed self. To become so pale from a cold.”

It was a title he hadn’t heard since coming to Hwayeonggyeong. No matter how much it was a position he was forced to take, it was still one bestowed by the emperor. The reason he deliberately called him ‘Royal Brother’ instead of by his title was obvious. It was a clear statement that he was merely the emperor’s cherished younger brother. Gamyoung simply turned his head and looked down at the competition grounds.

“I have heard of his reputation, but you have raised a truly remarkable son.”

His monotone voice was colder than Hongyo had ever heard. However, it was a familiar voice to those who knew Gamyoung from the imperial palace. His face, as impassive and cold as his voice, made it impossible to judge his emotions rashly. The Pangam looked at Gamyoung, who had instantly reverted to his original self, and spoke.

“Thank you for thinking so highly of my son. However, he is a lad whom even I cannot control, so you will have some trouble handling him.”

At that, Gamyoung, glancing at the Pangam just by rolling his eyes, looked back down at the competition grounds and replied.

“Those who disobey orders need only be dealt with according to military law. The Pangam, who commands the Central Army, would know better what happens in case of insubordination.”

Gamyoung, turning his head completely as if he didn’t want to exchange any more words, observed Hongyo. He wanted to go down right away and ask if she was okay, but there were too many eyes watching. If he showed an opening for even a moment, he would be caught up in something, just like before.

Gamyoung wet his parched lips and thought about how he could get Hongyo out of there right now. But if Hongyo hadn’t wanted this competition, she would have forfeited long ago. If he were to stop the competition without any just cause in the midst of this, there would be gossip not only about Hongyo but also about Kyungrak, who had put her in this position. So he couldn’t move carelessly. Moreover, Jang Daeho seemed to have no intention of ending this match. If he had intended to end it, there would have been no reason for him to stop that punch.

Just then, the Pangam casually opened his mouth.

“Of course, if it’s a subordinate who doesn’t listen, it’s enough to dispose of him according to military law, as you said, but…”

“……”

“Jang Daeho is my son. Is there anyone who knows his own child better than a parent? I am giving you a word of caution, Lord Gyeongjang. Even though he is my son, you will have to put a leash on him while he is here. Once that boy bites, he won’t let go until he loses interest. No matter how you try to rule him with military law, he won’t even bow his head unless it’s to someone he himself acknowledges.”

Unlike before, his voice was filled with sincere concern. It was just as Gamyoung was about to ask what he meant. An eighth of an hour had passed, and the sound of a drum announcing the start of the second round rang out loudly. And it wasn’t long before he could understand the meaning of those words.

“Get up. You have to entertain me more.”

As if the previous round had just been a game, the match was over in an instant. Even though Hongyo hadn’t learned spear arts, he hadn’t expected the match to end this easily. It was a relief, if anything, that he ended it with just spear arts and didn’t resort to threatening punches like before.

Hongyo, who had been helplessly taken down by the standard attack of aiming for the legs to trip her, was lying on the ground just like during practice when the tip of a spear was lowered over her forehead. Its area was barely larger than a coin, but if aimed at the glabella with that tremendous strength, it was enough to take a life.

“You want to lose again?”

Gamyoung looked at Hongyo, who roughly pushed away the spear tip. He had seen it often when Hongyo sparred with other seniors at the dojo, but there was something about Hongyo that made her opponents obstinate. Facing a fight head-on without avoiding it was a brave attitude typical of Hongyo, but in a situation like this, there was nothing to be gained from provocation. Gamyoung was relieved that the next round was archery. Not only was archery the field Hongyo was most confident in, but it was also a relief that it wasn’t a sparring match like the previous two rounds.

But when Hongyo stood up, Gamyoung’s face stiffened. The way she slightly staggered before standing up was unusual. Fortunately, Hongyo caught her balance and stood up, but even in the short distance she walked to get her bow, her back didn’t look quite right. For a moment, his heart sank, wondering if she was injured, but Hongyo’s expression as she held the bow looked more at ease than before.

Soon, Hongyo, after drawing the bowstring a few times, caressed the fletching of an arrow. The way she stroked the fletching she must have touched countless times a day was familiar. Hongyo gauged the wind and finally, at the sound of the drum announcing the last, third round, stood in the competition grounds again. In the meantime, Hongyo and Jang Daeho stood side by side in front of their respective prepared targets.

Hongyo looked at the target far away. A bow that felt like a part of her body every day, a target like that was no problem. But her head had been dizzy since morning, making it difficult to concentrate. On top of that, her arm was numb, probably from blocking the forceful attacks with just a wooden sword in the first round. But whether she liked it or not, the winner would be decided only after this round was over.

“Each will shoot three sets of three arrows, for a total of nine. The one with the higher score will become the winner of the competition. For the first set, Yeo Hongyo, who won in swordsmanship, will begin first. For the second set, Jang Daeho, who was victorious in spear arts, will start. For the last, third set, the one with the higher combined score from the six arrows will shoot first.”

Jeonghwan, who had explained the rules, nodded at Hongyo. As the big drum boomed once, Hongyo raised her bow. The sensation of the tautly drawn bowstring traveled from her fingertips to her elbow. The tension, which required one to even hold their breath, strangely always felt comfortable. As the wind blew, Hongyo released the bowstring without hesitation. The arrow left the bow, flew like a shot, and lodged right in the center.

“Ten points!”

A voice announcing the score came from afar. It was an expected result, but Gamyoung suppressed a smile, trying to keep his lips from turning up. However, when Daeho also drew his bowstring and the result was ten points, Gamyoung couldn’t help but recall that he, too, had once been called a divine archer, not just for swordsmanship or spear arts.

Whenever Hongyo hit the center of the target with all three arrows, Jang Daeho would follow closely behind, scoring the same points. With no one giving an inch, it became harder to predict the result as time went on.

Finally, Jang Daeho, the winner of the second round, shot the fourth arrow first. The arrow, lodged in the center without fail, made a threatening sound as its shaft trembled. Next, Hongyo raised her bow. But at that moment, her vision swayed and her arm went numb, causing her to let out an unknowing groan and lower her bow. At that sight, Gamyoung flinched. It seemed that her staggering earlier was not nothing after all.

“What’s wrong?”

And he wasn’t the only one who noticed her condition. Jang Daeho, who was grinning beside her, asked slowly. Hongyo glanced at the bastard and raised her bow again.

“Mind your own business.”

Then, without even taking a breath to compose herself, she released the bowstring. The arrow, flying in a slight arc, landed on the border between the nine and ten-point lines. The scorer who checked the score saw the arrow was closer to the center and loudly shouted ten points once more. At that, applause and cheers erupted loudly.

Hongyo hid her numb arm behind her back. It seemed she had overexerted herself in the swordsmanship match. Jang Daeho, who glanced at Hongyo, drew his bowstring. This time, too, it was ten points without any surprise. And Hongyo immediately followed suit. As they both shot all six arrows with the exact same score, it was time to discuss who should shoot first in the final round. Because the winner would be decided with this round, the discussion grew long. It was then that Jang Daeho, unable to wait any longer, caused a scene.

“This is boring.”

Jang Daeho, who muttered under his breath, looked at Hongyo. She was hiding it behind her back, but his field of vision was wide enough to see the slightly trembling arm. Besides, her pale complexion was flushed with fever, so it seemed her physical condition was not good at all. But none of that mattered. Whether that punk was sick or not, he would win this competition anyway. He just didn’t like that his interesting new toy wasn’t working properly.

The little punk, so skinny she would barely reach his chest, had guts and a good spirit. Even when he had scared her thoroughly on the day of the initiation, she didn’t fear him like the other guys. Rather, when he pulled her and pushed her out of the line, he was surprised by the way she rushed into his arms, and he found it very interesting how she had pushed him aside with such force for someone of her size. And then the way she had casually tossed two pouches onto him as he lay on the ground.

Recalling that moment, Daeho licked his lips without realizing it, shook off the guys who were massaging his shoulders during the short break, and approached Hongyo on the opposite side. It was an unpredictable, sudden action, and not only the people around Hongyo but Hongyo herself widened her eyes in surprise.

“About this high?”

Jang Daeho, uttering words that made no sense at all, drew a line above his chest as if measuring Hongyo’s height. And as if that wasn’t enough, he reached out to pull Hongyo’s arm as if to embrace her, but Hongyo desperately blocked him and pushed Jang Daeho away.

“What is this…”

“You’re sick right now, aren’t you?”

Suddenly, a large hand covered her headband. Hongyo, startled by the palm that was even hotter than her own feverish self, pulled her head back. But even that reaction was slow, which meant, just as he thought, she was not well.

Daeho looked at Hongyo, then raised his head to look at the pavilion. His own father, frowning deeply, was one thing, but that pale-faced guy in the middle, the Hwayeonggyeongjang or whatever, was making a strange face. Amidst the people who were shocked by his antics, that guy’s gaze, looking like he was about to jump out at any moment, was fixed solely on this little punk. Intrigued by that gaze, Jang Daeho slowly stroked his chin, then looked at Hongyo and muttered. “Interesting.” Then, looking at the still-wary Hongyo, he said.

“This time, you lose.”

After finishing his words, Jang Daeho untied his own headband. With that, the bastard snatched the arrow Hongyo was holding, tied the headband to the arrow shaft, and drew the bowstring, aiming right at the pavilion.

At the tip of the fingers holding the bow, a pale face was caught.