If Silk Flowers Bloom by the Water’s Edge Chapter 97

A famous line appears in my favorite hero movie: “With great power comes great responsibility.” Even if she wasn’t a hero who beats up villains, Chaehwa, who was fighting against the enemy known as the Maeng shamans, possessed a trump card. A power that carried a great force, and along with it, great aftereffects.

However, power that could overturn the tide of a battle always had to be used with caution. Using it while considering the strain it would place on her body was one thing, but the surrounding environment was also important. She would never reveal the divine eyes unless she was with someone she could trust with her life.

It was obvious that the Maeng shamans performing the ritual would be watching, so revealing the divine eyes was a suicidal act. Reversing a contract made between a strange shaman and a bizarre demon into nothingness, and carrying out a contract so advantageous that it practically gave everything away from the bizarre demon’s perspective—these were things that could not exist according to the common sense of the shaman lineage, and they would surely start digging into her background.

Even if they investigated, they wouldn’t be able to find out what the divine eyes were, but they would be able to get close to the truth. Once a trump card is known to the world, it is no longer a trump card.

However, looking at the bloodstains painted unnaturally across the wooden floor, and looking at Yirok, who couldn’t even let out a groan as if it were all his own fault, Chaehwa could no longer adhere only to gentle methods. She wanted to save Yirok, even if it meant exposing a part of the secret she had vowed to keep all her life. And she wanted to do it as quickly as possible.

“Yirok!”

The contract with Shinwoo and the vision-grass gatherer was broken on the condition that they would never see each other’s faces again. Although she dissolved the contract in a way that minimized the burden on Shinwoo’s body, one could never be too sure. With the mindset of giving a piece of rice cake to someone she disliked, she covered the unconscious Shinwoo with a blanket.

Meanwhile, Yirok sat near the firewood, stemming the bleeding from his bullet-wounded thigh. Even at a single glance, his face was completely drained of color, his breathing was ragged, and it was a wonder he hadn’t collapsed yet.

The firewood, which had its embers diminished after being bombarded by bullets and dust, resembled Yirok. Forgetting the cold, Chaehwa tore any cloth she could get her hands on vertically. It seemed to be a piece of coarse women’s underwear that had been discarded. Sweat clung to Yirok’s chin as he kept his mouth shut, fearing he might cause her worry.

“It hurts a lot, doesn’t it? It’s okay, it’s going to be okay. In just a little bit, Shinwoo will leave, you will leave… but you must not die before leaving this place. That would be a different problem entirely.”

She wrapped the cloth tightly around his blood-soaked thigh, assisting with the pressure. With all the contractors vanishing and the world of the vision-grass collapsing, dying was the one thing that must not happen. If that happened, Yirok would be left behind alone in the world of the vision-grass, only to wake up months or perhaps years later. Naturally, he would be completely poisoned by the vision-grass.

“I… I’m sorry. I should have been on guard the moment I saw Shinwoo’s face. Kissing you and all that ended up creating a rift in Shinwoo’s mind…”

“Kim Chaehwa.”

“It’s all my fault. No matter if it’s the vision-grass world, it hurts, right?”

There were no happy endings in the world of vision-grass. Because the vision-grass gatherer was a bizarre demon that fattened its own belly by gnawing away at the mental strength of those who fell into its trap. People entered the world of illusions using the vision-grass while yearning for an unattainable happiness, but that was exactly where true misfortune began. How could something that didn’t exist in reality possibly exist here? Dying in the vision-grass world meant getting caught in an even larger, colder spiderweb. It was getting caught by a pest that eats away only at the inside of a tree. Therefore, even if people luckily woke up from the vision-grass, there were quite a few cases where their minds were already dead.

If Chaehwa, Shinwoo, Yeonrye, and Jangsi escaped from the vision-grass world, Yirok was bound to suffer terribly, on top of everything else. He would become a character in an unwanted story and face repeated misfortunes. She did not want to just wait outside while burning with anxiety. She pressed down with all her might against his thigh, where the blood seemed to surge. Even the cloth tied for stanching soon lost its original color and became completely drenched.

“Stay conscious just a little longer. Just until it doesn’t feel cold or painful anymore. It will be over soon.”

“I got it. I’ll hold on, so…”

“Those truly wretched Maeng shaman bastards.”

“Stop crying.”

Yirok’s fingertips, turned white as if drained of blood, playfully touched her cheek. The movement of pushing with the back of his hand like kneading clay was actually meant to wipe away her tears. It was the absolute worst way of wiping away tears in the world. Chaehwa hated herself for laughing while being comforted by an injured person.

“You like it because I’m crying, don’t you? If not now, when else would you ever make me cry, Yirok? Am I a woman who cries easily just because someone bullies me? I’m not.”

“No, you’re not.”

“So… watch me cry all you want, and let’s see each other again in a healthy state in just a little bit.”

“I plan to, so why are you crying? It doesn’t hurt. Rather than hurting… I’m sleepy.”

“Don’t sleep. If you sleep now, it’s all for nothing. You know that, right? You’re absolutely not going to die, Yirok. If you lie to me and get left behind here alone, I really won’t let it slide.”

Fearing that Yirok might fall asleep and die, Chaehwa kept her mouth moving without rest. Placing her cold hands on the cheeks of Yirok, whose words were growing sparse, she chased away death. Even though the firewood had died out and it was equally cold inside and out, Yirok seemed drowsy. Tears welled up in her eyes out of sheer frustration at Yirok, who even went so far as to bang his head against the wall to avoid closing his eyes, yet stubbornly refused to say it hurt in front of her.

Chaehwa briefly turned her gaze toward the outside, where the sound of the wind was beginning to change. Signs that the background created by the vision-grass gatherer was collapsing could be felt. The Maeng shamans, who were the contractors, must be falling like autumn leaves. She would absolutely exact the price for Yirok’s sacrifice and for messing with Shinwoo’s heart. Just as she was glaring at the door, wishing for the darkness of reality to swallow her quickly, a finger poking her cheek called out to her.

Her expression upon turning around was probably dazed. Yirok, who would be lucky not to faint from excessive bleeding, was smiling. If not for the bloodstains and sweat, she would have fallen for him right then and there.

“Let me ask you just one thing.”

“…In this situation right now?”

“Yeah.”

The sound of the blizzard, which had been as loud as a lamentation, was drying up and disappearing. It was proof that not much of the vision-grass world remained. Leaving behind an era that would never come again, resentment that triumphed over love, blood, and tears, they were about to depart. Yirok, who was trying to forget the pain through a question, was beautiful even in the midst of this. She took the hand of Yirok, who was sitting alone as if inadvertently abandoned. Yirok, whose gaze had grown hazy, asked with a gentle smile.

“If… it weren’t me, but Shinwoo, Chaho, or even Jangsi, would you still have kissed them?”

“What?”

“Why… when a person is hurting, they get curious about all sorts of things. Just… I was curious about that.”

His tone of asking was light, but his gaze was heading in the opposite direction. The blind spot of the emotion she felt was that she didn’t fail to understand his intention in asking. Yirok was showing the kind of interest a man would show toward a woman. The passion felt in the kiss was not her solitary illusion. Without waiting for an answer, Yirok tickled the cheek of the frozen Chaehwa by scratching it with his fingertip.

“Hmm?”

“…You’re not actually in pain, are you, Yirok?”

“You said it’s a world that will disappear after today anyway. So… you can tell me.”

“You’re childish.”

“Even if it’s childish, please tell me, Young Lady. Just… because I’m curious. Whether I’m lucky, or seriously unlucky. I’m curious about myself, not you.”

No matter how much she needed to create a rift in the vision-grass world, if the counterpart hadn’t been Yirok, the very word ‘kiss’ wouldn’t have even crossed her lips. However, she couldn’t simply grasp his heart without a second thought. Once she opened her eyes again in the original world, there would be many things she would have to fight against. She didn’t want to throw Yirok into a situation she couldn’t take responsibility for and go off to fight alone. It meant she needed time to thoroughly organize her thoughts.

“How am I a bad bastard even here… They said that Shinwoo guy is your fiancé. Nothing changed even though you kissed me. Is it because I’m a defective product?”

However, because Yirok, who was actively looking for trouble, was unbearably lovely. Chaehwa granted freedom to her tightly closed lips.

“Needless to say about Shinwoo, Chaho, or Jangsi. Yeonrye is like a mother to me. No matter how much things had to be that way… why on earth would I kiss them?”

“…Then?”

At his question, which omitted the words ‘What about me?’, Chaehwa ultimately blushed. Her lips pouted as if she were sulking, and her voice shrunk to a crawl.

“I did it because it’s you, Yirok. Because it’s you…”

So it was now her turn to demand that he take back the absurd words about being a defective product. The darkness that had been hiding in the snow-covered mountain and eavesdropping on their conversation threw open the cabin door. Black ash floated behind the darkness. It must be the traces of having destroyed the world of the vision-grass. With black hands resembling six tails, it grabbed Shinwoo by his legs first. Opening its maw wide as if eating salted shrimp, it swallowed Shinwoo whole in a single gulp.

Even while staring at the darkness crawling with six feet like a beast, Chaehwa did not let go of the hand she held. The moment her head entered the toothless mouth of the darkness, she said:

“See you soon, Yirok.”

Only Yirok’s hand, which had been holding hers in return, failed to step into the darkness. Not being able to tell him not to be afraid was an eternal regret. Chaehwa, lying down with the pitch-black world as her pillow, blinked sluggishly. A deep sleep linking the vision-grass to reality veiled her eyes.

She wanted to see Yirok, who smiled when he was hurt, smiled when he was sorrowful, and smiled even when he was angry. My Yirok, whom I could never get tired of looking at. It was a vision-grass dream so sweet that she didn’t want to wake up.

‘Chaehwa…!’

‘Young Lady Chaehwa…!’

The touch shaking her awake while complaining that the sun was clicking its tongue must be Yeonrye. Chaehwa, who was tossing and turning while saying she would sleep for just ten more minutes, suddenly heard a sobbing sound. Chaehwa, who was about to throw a morning tantrum, lowered the blanket just a little below her eyes. She could see the kitchen staff wiping away tears with handkerchiefs as if they were keeping a deathbed vigil. In the center of an atmosphere resembling a funeral, Chaehwa finally opened her eyes.

“Young Lady!”

“Oh my, oh my, Young Lady!”