If Silk Flowers Bloom by the Water’s Edge Chapter 23

When the evening full moon rose, the people of Nanjubeol busily moved about, lighting the lanterns. The mansion’s night, dyed in the color of dense tangerine peels, was the pride of the warrior world. It would have been nice if the Young Miss, who couldn’t get enough of fire displays, could watch through the window, but since the yeongju that had bound their arms was finally about to be broken, she couldn’t secure a good spot.

Chaehwa’s grandmother, in other words, the jiju, came to the guest room as if launching a surprise attack. Saying that she intended to end the yeongju punishment today, the jiju took only Chaehwa, not Yirok, and led her to her room. It seemed they were going to have an important conversation that only a grandmother and granddaughter could have. Left alone, Yirok sat like a dog guarding the outside of the door.

But none of that mattered. He thought that by now, the whereabouts of the missing red envelope would have been revealed to the entire world. How many people lived in Nanjubeol, and how many of them could understand the contents written in the red envelope? So, according to his calculations, his head should have been on the line yesterday at the latest.

The saying that it’s better to take your punishment early was probably due to one’s imagination. Among the endings that came to mind, there were no good ones. The worst was his brother dying. That was the number one most terrible thing.

“Hah…”

He couldn’t know the jiju’s inner thoughts for having spirited her granddaughter away. He thumped the back of his head against the wall without a sound, kung, kung, and looked at the ceiling.

But there was a time for self-reproach. Yirok had to stop his actions because he felt a foreign object in his hand.

The flowerpot that Chaehwa had foisted on him as a gift was in his hand. While saying he wanted to throw it away, he had somehow dithered past the trash can and come all the way to the guest room. It was a gift he didn’t even know what kind of seeds were planted in, a gift given by someone who was also caught up in an impulse. And he, unable to throw away something so meaningless, had been carrying it around all day.

A girl who got on his last nerve. If only it were just that, how nice it would be.

He hated the friction sound of silk rubbing together. He hated it when she called his name in a voice like rolling silver bells. He hated how she casually regarded the line he had drawn. He had come to hate that she would one day hate him to death.

He wanted to throw her in the pond and turn his back, but seeing as he was worried about her getting frostbite, even that seemed wrong. At that rate, Chaehwa would become scarier than Sarira. For him, who was not afraid of death, his brother should have been the only thing he feared. It wouldn’t do for him to be scared of a Young Miss glaring at him as if she’d been betrayed.

“Yirok.”

At the sound of his name, Yirok put the flowerpot down and turned to sit facing the open door. Chaehwa, looking more haggard than before she went in, beckoned to him once more.

“Grandmother says to come in. Come in.”

Kindly holding the door wide open, Chaehwa went inside. He saw that the Young Miss’s complexion wasn’t too bad, but one never knew. Yirok needlessly unbuttoned and re-buttoned his perfectly fine shirt as he entered the room.

The jiju, who had forgone her palace-like quarters to come to the guest room, was like a serpent sitting in a magpie’s nest. When Yirok entered with an audible step, she opened her closed eyes. Hearing the clinking sound of the yeongju, the jiju continuously looked at her wristwatch.

“I heard the report from Yeonrye. That you two are getting along well. Chaehwa seems to have reflected a lot, too.”

At the fact that there was no mention of Sarira or the red envelope, Yirok’s tension unknowingly eased. The jiju, with her white hair tied in a neat bun, continued speaking while massaging her wrist.

“This should be enough. If you two get caught up in such a commotion one more time, know that you will be severely scolded. Especially you, Chaehwa. He’s the outsider you wanted so much, so treat him well. Understood?”

“Yes, Grandmother.”

As the ceremonial greetings ended, the link of the yeongju was released. The two people, who had lost the freedom of one arm for a fortnight, looked awkward with their now-free arms. The gazes of Yirok and Chaehwa, who were touching their own empty wrists, happened to meet by chance. Though their gazes broke away, conscious of the jiju in front of them, they couldn’t hide that strange atmosphere.

“Yirok.”

The jiju, who was timing for the third time, called Yirok’s name rather coldly.

“Do you know what the Spirit Extinction Ritual is.”

The Spirit Extinction Ritual was a rite to annihilate yogwis that had crash-landed in the mortal world. He had learned it as a basic and fundamental ritual, the foundation of a jeongmusa.

“I do.”

“Then, for this request, you, Yirok, will also participate and learn what needs to be learned. Your skills will only improve when you experience it firsthand.”

She was saying she would include him in a request that came from the outside. The person beside him, who had seemed to shrink after meeting the jiju, was the one who was in an uproar instead.

“But… Grandmother. Yirok hasn’t even had formal training yet. It’s obvious he’ll just flounder if we take him as a haenang.”

“A haenang is someone who grows by going out and assisting you. They don’t grow by being coddled inside the house. I heard the Baekyeong family taught him roughly before sending him. Why. Do you have no confidence?”

Displeased with her granddaughter’s reply, the jiju’s anger was directed at the blameless Yirok. There was only one possible answer in this situation.

“I have been taught. If the jiju wishes it, then I must go.”

This was his cookie-cutter life. Besides Chaehwa, were there any questions in his life that didn’t have a correct answer? Just because he had spent over a fortnight differently didn’t mean the board had changed.

And it wouldn’t in the future, either.

🌹₊ ⊹

The yeongju punishment period came to an end with the jiju’s permission. Leaving Chaehwa’s quarters where he had stayed for a fortnight, Yirok returned to the haenangs’ dormitory. Yeonrye had packed Yirok’s belongings, which had been stored in a drawer, and returned them to him. It seemed she had even packed a few sweet yakgwa cookies. She gave off a nuance that she still held the caning incident to heart, saying she had misunderstood the young man after watching him for a few days. Not wanting to leave any lingering affection, Yirok deliberately took the few yakgwa from his luggage and left them in Chaehwa’s quarters.

He hoped that Yeonrye would find out later and shudder, calling him a harsh fellow. Walking out quickly, Yirok smelled the fresh scent of soil from his heavy left hand.

It was strange. The yakgwa was so easy, but he had brought the flowerpot with him. Chaehwa, who said she still had to meet with her grandmother, had run over in a flurry before they parted and said.

“You just have to water this once a day. Put it in a place with good sunlight.”

After exchanging a few words, Chaehwa easily forgot her grudges. It was the result of a kind-hearted Young Miss growing up in a sensible greenhouse. And he was the pathetic fool who had carried out the flowerpot like a guest who had just come to visit.

The clock in the moonlit Nanjubeol pointed to 9 p.m. Mindful of lights-out, the courtyard was kept clear and empty.

And naturally, Yirok’s stealthy steps led to the Gwimok rest area. He would thoroughly search from the starting point of the problem. If he hadn’t been caught yet, wouldn’t it be better to return to square one?

Confirming that no one was following him, Yirok put his hand into the broken stone wall. It should have been an empty spot, of course, but as if mocking Yirok’s recent heartache, the lost letter was there. Did the red envelope grow feet? Yirok’s hand, which knew better than anyone that miracles don’t exist, picked up the red envelope.

The shape was the same, but a delivery fee note he hadn’t seen before was attached to the red envelope. Yirok read the note with an unwelcoming gaze.

If you keep dropping things like this, you’ll get caught soon

An eerie sound came from the branches of the Gwimok tree, clashing with the wind. He folded the note in half and put it in his pocket. The handwriting was important information. The note from the insider, which deserved to be stomped out like an ember, would one day become evidence.

Yirok suppressed his emotions and put Sarira’s letter in his luggage bag. He knew there was an accomplice within Nanjubeol, but he hadn’t expected them to be the type to enjoy revealing themselves like this. They seemed like a light-headed person who would be good at tattling on this and that to Sarira.

It must have been a note intended to agitate him, but Yirok felt rather let down. Because they seemed to feel not a shred of guilt for betraying the Young Miss they served, who was, in any case, objectively kind. Because he was the one who had the guilt that the other person lacked. The steps he took, feeling that he was at a disadvantage in life, were incredibly heavy.

And it was only when he reached the dormitory, carrying the flowerpot and his luggage, that a light went on in his darkened head. He remembered. The haenangs’ dormitory was a 5-minute walk from the Gwimok rest area, 3 minutes if you run. After 9 p.m., there were few household members who could move about freely. The Nanjubeol staff prided themselves on their loyalty, but fundamentally, the apprentice haenangs were children from other families. Like the Baekyeong family, for example.

Yirok’s eyes, as he grabbed the dormitory entrance door, became as sharp as if he had drunk black coffee. Moreover, he didn’t know if it was intentional, but the handwriting on the note looked like that of a young person.

If so…

Yirok pulled the doorknob forcefully. The first floor of the dormitory was incredibly bright for 9 p.m.

“Oh. That bastard’s here already?”

“Hello…”

“Ah, right. You’re surprised, right? Welcome.”

Three girls, two boys- the apprentice haenangs, minus one- were gathered in front of the first-floor stairs like a gang with lanterns. Shadows were cast on each of their faces from the bright lanterns held beside their heads.

Yirok closed the door and stood facing them, who were emitting light like fireflies. He met each person’s eyes slowly, one by one, and clutched the note in his pocket.

“You know. We’re planning to have a small party at the dorm tomorrow night. Do you want to come, by any chance?”

“Yeah. To celebrate your return. A party to… forget all about the past.”

During his silent search, one of the female haenangs spoke to him brightly. Yirok released the lightly crumpled note in his pocket.

“Sounds good.”

Yirok’s answer, pushed out from his tongue, spread throughout the first-floor dormitory.