Even My Life Is Yours Chapter 83

When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was a ceiling adorned with an engraved dragon. Not yet having fully regained her senses, Hongyo stared at it quietly. It was a deity meant to grant human wishes, but for that purpose, its wide-open eyes and its body—twisted bizarrely as if it might writhe at any moment—evoked an eerie dread. As Hongyo gazed blankly at the painting, she was suddenly snapped awake by a voice coming from somewhere.

“Are you awake?”

The voice, neither particularly affectionate nor cold but entirely composed, belonged to Mohyun. Only then did Hongyo realize that this place was the Cheongmudang where Mohyun resided, and she asked:

“Why am I here…?”

As she opened her mouth, a hollow breath escaped her congested throat. When she cleared it with a couple of coughs, a scratchy, unfamiliar voice slipped out, making her wonder just how many days she had spent without speaking. At that, Mohyun approached the bed carrying a bowl of medicinal broth.

“Drink this. It is a remedy to restore your vitality.”

Hongyo accepted the white porcelain bowl containing the medicine. As she swallowed the broth, which vibrated with the heavy scent of oriental herbs, she felt her energy return slightly despite having only just drunk it, as if it truly were a remedy for vitality. Hongyo grimaced at the bitter aftertaste remaining in her mouth. She then asked Mohyun, who was quietly watching her:

“Why am I here?”

No matter how hard she thought, she could not understand why she was at the Cheongmudang. Surely her last memory was seeing Gamyoung in the forest and…

“Argh.”

Seeing Hongyo clutch her head with both hands at the sharp pain that suddenly pierced her mind, Mohyun asked a question instead of answering:

“Tell me, from where to where do you remember?”

At those words, Hongyo retraced her memories. It was when she was finishing up the final organization to return to the imperial palace after the Grand Oracle Ceremony had ended. Jang Daeho, who belonged to the rear guard that had been sent off first, suddenly appeared before the Forest of Vanishing Shadows. Then, the group traveling with Jang Daeho attacked her, and while she was fighting them, Jang Daeho tied her ornament to the tip of an arrow and aimed toward the forest…

“Ah, the ornament!”

As Hongyo cried out, Mohyun looked at her as if asking what that meant. However, before Mohyun could even question her, Hongyo spoke first:

“Chief Military Shaman. Did you happen to see the ornament? It’s an ornament tied to a sword, with a chrysanthemum carved on yellow amber… Ugh.”

Once again, a sharp pain flashed through her head. Grimacing, Hongyo hurriedly pressed on with her words, as if that were not the important part:

“Anyway, I must find it without fail…”

“An ornament? Did you enter the Dragon God’s forest just to look for a mere ornament like that?”

Mohyun’s voice sounded ominous. It wasn’t that she had never heard a voice filled with anger before, but it had never been as chilling and razor-sharp as this. It hadn’t even been to this extent on the day Hongyo announced she would enter Hwayounggyeong.

“Do you even realize what you have done? The place you entered is none other than the Forest of Vanishing Shadows. You set foot in a place where only the imperial family and shamans are permitted to enter. Not only have you broken the state law, but if you had been a moment later, you could have lost your very life. And yet, you say it was all for a mere ornament…”

As if completely dumbfounded, Mohyun pressed her forehead, the tips of her fingers trembling faintly. Her unstable breathing showed she was doing her absolute best not to express any further fury. Only then did Hongyo realize the weight of what she had done. At that moment, the world had turned yellow before her eyes, and she could see nothing else besides reclaiming the ornament. Yet, even if she were to turn back time and return to that moment again, she still did not think she would have acted differently.

“It wasn’t just any ordinary ornament. It was a gift like a token, respecting my choice for the very first time.”

That was why it was precious, and that was why its value could not be measured. Mohyun looked at such a Hongyo and said quietly:

“Hongyo. Even after this, do you truly intend to remain in Hwayounggyeong?”

When Hongyo looked up, Mohyun wore a face filled with genuine worry.

“Is there any rule saying such a thing won’t happen again in the future? The imperial palace is inherently a place teeming with those who wish to use and slander others for their own gain. Right now, with this incident alone, will you be able to endure the interrogations to come?”

Mohyun wondered what on earth she should do with this terribly naive child. Hongyo was far too innocent and fragile to remain in the imperial palace. Though her martial arts skills were outstanding, if the palace were a place where one could survive by skill alone, countless people within it would not have lost their lives unjustly.

Over Hongyo’s face, the image of the dear friend she had once cherished most flickered in overlap. The memory she never wished to recall returned just like this, abruptly and without warning. However, now was not the time to fall into sentimentality.

“So, how far do you remember?”

Because if it was to save the child right in front of her eyes, she had to do whatever it took.

°⛩️⋆˙️

The investigation proceeded swiftly and quietly. Since the incident had occurred within the military ranks, the case was handled not by the State Tribunal but by a military judicial authority in charge of soldiers, making it even more covert and cautious. Excluded from her duties and waiting for the investigation, Hongyo could not even return to Hwayounggyeong and was immediately summoned to Yukonbtongsa, the military investigation authority, to undergo interrogation.

Though it was called an interrogation, all she could remember was entering the forest exactly as Jang Daeho had lured her to do, so she had nothing more to say beyond that. She remembered cutting through the taboo rope and stepping inside, but everything after that remained completely blurred like a thick fog, no matter how much she retraced her memories.

“Erasing your memory was to prevent you from losing your mind.”

Mohyun had explained the reason for erasing her memory in that way. Those who had entered that forest without any preparation and whose whereabouts remained unknown to this day were beyond counting. Among them, even those who were lucky enough to barely escape the forest had lost their sanity due to whatever it was they saw inside. Therefore, her foster mother erasing her memory was the best possible measure she could take as a shaman. A spell required to erase memories was so difficult and grueling that one could not even dare to perform it without possessing skills on par with the Chief Military Shaman. Consequently, the process of undergoing the ritual was so intensely painful that even for someone like her, who had received countless rituals before, it made her faint and black out multiple times.

Within those memories obscured by a hazy fog, if there was anything she could recall even faintly, it was the footwear she saw before her as she lay collapsed on the ground. The tall leather shoes, lined with black silk, were heavily soiled and ruined by the dirt floor. And even if she could not fully remember, she already knew the owner of those shoes. There was no way she would fail to recognize the ceremonial vestments that only the Commander of Hwayounggyeong could wear.

Hongyo had no way of knowing how Gamyoung found out and came to rescue her. However, when she heard from the military investigator in charge of the case that Yeoryeong had surrendered and confessed to everything, she realized that the person who had gone to find Gamyoung that day was Yeoryeong.

Hongyo recalled Yeoryeong standing behind Jang Daeho. Although she had only seen him for a brief moment, Jang Daeho calling out to Yeoryeong made them look like they knew each other well. Had he approached me from the beginning with this intention? To report my every move to Jang Daeho? Yet, even when Jang Daeho did not know her, Yeoryeong had consistently acted familiar with her. Furthermore, wasn’t Yeoryeong the very first one to surrender?

But no matter how favorably she tried to think of it, the shock and sense of betrayal she felt at that time did not fade easily. Yeoryeong was the first friend she had made since coming here. Excluding Gamyoung, for someone whose world had consisted only of Sujin and the senior and junior disciples she met at the training hall, he was her first true friend. He was the one she spent the most time with at Hwayounggyeong, and the one who sincerely rooted for her to win during the Poetry and Martial Arts Competition. Therefore, she could not understand Yeoryeong, who had gone so far as to steal the ornament she cherished most to hand it over to Jang Daeho just to lure her out.

“The imperial palace is inherently a place teeming with those who wish to use and slander others for their own gain.”

Hongyo wanted to deny Mohyun’s words, but the more she tried, the more Yeoryeong came to mind. Rather than Jang Daeho trying to harm her, or Mohyun’s words that she had almost lost her life in that forest, Yeoryeong’s betrayal was the greatest shock. A void had opened inside her chest, as massive as the affection she had held for him as a friend—no, even larger.

At times, that void burned hot as if set ablaze, yet it remained precisely that empty. While she caught herself hoping there must be some underlying reason, rage would surge whenever the image of his eyes watching her from behind Jang Daeho returned to her mind. She fluctuated between disappointment, anger, and a desperate curiosity about his motives time and time again. Yet, unless she heard the reason directly from Yeoryeong himself, there was no way to know why he had betrayed her.

Having finished another long day of interrogation, Hongyo tried her best to invite sleep, but no rest came to her despite her body and mind being utterly exhausted from the questioning. Anger, betrayal, and a deep sense of apology and guilt toward those who were still striving to save her tormented her heart. If only she could step outside, it would be better, but being confined within Yukonbtongsa until the interrogations ended made her mind even more restless.

She was distressed by her situation—not knowing what was happening in the outside world during her absence, wondering if her foster mother was alright, and causing nothing but trouble for Jeonghwan instead of being of any help. And above all, she had committed an terrible wrong against Gamyoung, who would be cleaning up the aftermath of this mess. If only she knew how Gamyoung was faring, it would be a relief, but within these walls, there was absolutely nothing she could do right now.

Each day was a grueling ordeal. Mohyun’s words asking if she could handle the interrogations to come were entirely true. It was a daily torment for Hongyo to drag out memories that would barely surface. If she could actually remember something, she could at least speak, but repeating the exact same words in a situation where she remembered nothing was profoundly exhausting. Yet, even so, she could not bring up the fact that her foster mother had erased her memories. If she did, Mohyun would also be unable to escape involvement in this matter.

However, the nights brought no comfort either. No matter how much her memories had been erased, the unconscious imprint engraved upon her body could not be wiped away. Since that day, the days Hongyo spent dreaming became frequent. In her dreams, something called out to her continuously. It was a voice she had never heard once in her entire life. Yet, as if that entity did not know her either, it kept asking nothing but ‘who’ she was.

As Hongyo fled from that voice, a forest unfolded before her. Twisted, bizarrely snapping and swaying branches repeatedly blocked her path. Even as she cut down the massed branches again and again, they tangled and coiled tightly. When a branch transformed into a vine caught her ankle, Hongyo tumbled forward as she was. Behind her, that unknown entity was still pursuing her. Hongyo crawled forward with all the strength she possessed. Dirt wedged beneath her fingernails, and eventually, a nail tore away. Just as she felt the presence tightly pursuing the weeping Hongyo right within her reach—

The tip of a rounded silk shoe appeared before her eyes. Hongyo raised her head desperately. The figure, bending one knee, hauled her body upright. Then, they cradled her ruined face with both hands, holding it dearly.

‘Hongyo.’

Hongyo opened her eyes. After dreaming for what felt like an eternity, it was morning once again. When it did, the dream from last night vanished like a lie, as if it had never happened. Her memories, as indistinct as hazy smoke, were just as frustrating and bleak as the evaporated dream. At times, her body would burn hot and ache as if on fire—just like the times she went without receiving rituals—causing her to curl into a ball and pant for breath. The days she woke up gasping and choking from a pain she could absolutely never grow accustomed to also increased.

Yet, the reason she did not fear that dream was because of the profound relief that found her the moment she awoke. Even while experiencing a pain so excruciating it felt as if her body were burning away, the comfort that seemed to whisper to her that she was alive and that it was alright allowed her to endure.

Though her memories were gone, her emotions had not vanished with them. Just as an injury sustained in a dream leaves the spot aching for a while even after waking, Hongyo was able to quietly open her eyes today, sustained by the relief she felt at the moment of being saved and the warmth she had felt upon her cheek.