Wandering Through Vol. 2 Chapter 46 - Capture, Oblivion

Yiseo was originally small and thin.  

 

She had been that way since birth, and in truth, she had never once been larger than her peers. 

 

A person needs to eat well to grow taller or wider, but her weak constitution prevented her from eating much, so there was nothing she could do about it.  

 

Because of this, when Suyeong carried Yiseo on her back, she was startled by how unexpectedly light she was.  

 

Though she had briefly recalled her past life and remembered carrying her once before, back then, she hadn’t been in her right mind—everything about Yiseo had seemed pitiable, so she must have misjudged her weight.  

 

“Are you… really on my back?”  

 

“I don’t know why you keep asking, but I only have one body. There’s nothing else to carry.”  

 

“…”  

 

To be honest, Yiseo, fully grown, was lighter than her young nephew running around the inner courtyard. 

 

It was as if her bones had been turned into cotton.  

 

Suyeong walked carefully with Yiseo on his back. It felt as though the slightest misstep could shatter her. He knew she shouldn’t say it, but he couldn’t help wondering how someone so fragile had managed to stay unharmed all this time.  

 

There was no difference in speed whether he walked alone or with someone on his back.  

 

Suyeong glanced down at Yiseo’s arms wrapped around her neck. Her wrists dangled loosely beneath his chin. He didn’t want to dwell on it, but against Yiseo’s already pale skin, large red handprints stood out starkly, drawing his gaze again and again.  

 

Probably—no, definitely. It must have been the Grand Prince’s doing.  

 

Suyeong tried hard not to think of Yiseo in the rain-soaked shrine, an image that kept surfacing in his mind. 

 

Clad in nothing but a thin underrobe, her exposed skin covered in red bite marks and handprints.  

 

…Damn bastard. Where on this tiny body was there even space to lay a hand?  

 

These sudden thoughts—whether they belonged to his past self or his present self—were unclear. 

 

But one thing was certain, the Grand Prince was a heartless monster.  

 

For all his noble status, he must have eaten well—his head towered above others—while this small body, barely half his size…

 

If one had functioning eyes, shouldn’t they be able to see whether this could stick to that or not?  

 

A tiger from the back mountain could never mate with a dog in the yard. 

 

If one had a brain, they’d consider the difference in size. The prince’s arm would surely be thicker than Yiseo’s leg. 

 

At that point, even if stripped bare, one should have the decency to step back, realizing, ‘Ah, this won’t work.’  

 

And just like that, in Suyeong’s mind, the prince instantly became a man without conscience, eyes, or brains.  

 

Of course, unaware of this, Yiseo noticed Suyeong had fallen silent after carrying her and wondered if she was too heavy. 

 

Or perhaps he was simply embarrassed to carry a woman he barely knew.  

 

“…Should we rest if it’s too much?”  

 

“Is it too much for you?”  

 

“No. I meant if you, the scholar, are tired…”  

 

“Why would I be…?”  

 

“Because you’re carrying me…?”  

 

After this utterly foolish exchange, Suyeong denied her concern.  

 

“It’s not tiring at all.”  

 

“Ah, I see…”  

 

“I mean it.”  

 

At the end of the awkward conversation, Suyeong realized Yiseo had far too much faith in him. Her thought—’Even so, carrying a person must be heavy’—would never change. 

 

Eventually, Suyeong ended the awkward back-and-forth by saying they should hurry before people found them strange.  

 

Of course, no one actually found them strange.  

 

Neither was dressed in silk, just ordinary clothes, so no one paid much attention to a grown man and woman sticking close. 

 

The rule of men and women not sitting together after seven was for the upper-class children, not commoners.  

 

To avoid anyone who might recognize them, they took a less-traveled path out of Hanseong, but even those they passed on the road simply assumed they were a married couple on a long journey and paid no mind.  

 

Thanks to that, Suyeong walked without worry and arrived at Guksadang on Inwangsan—as the shaman had mentioned—before sunset.

 

Outside, the sunset was just beginning to paint the sky.  

 

It was fortunate they had found shelter before nightfall. Suyeong carried Yiseo past the altar inside the shrine, where numerous deities were enshrined, and set her down in the side room.  

 

“Ah…”  

 

Yiseo let out a faint moan. 

 

Startled, Suyeong immediately turned to look at her.  

 

“Are you in pain somewhere?”  

 

“No, it’s just…”  

 

Her voice trailed off, but something about her foot seemed off. 

 

Suyeong crouched down and grabbed Yiseo’s ankle—only for her to let out a sharp cry of pain. Her foot was badly swollen.  

 

Suyeong’s expression hardened as he recalled how Yiseo had walked alone all morning because he hadn’t carried her.  

 

No matter what Yiseo said, from now on, Suyeong decided to treat her body as fragile as a bundle of dry twigs.  

 

“Where exactly did you plan to go, sister?”  

 

“Scholar.”  

 

At Yiseo’s call, Suyeong looked up, unaware of what was wrong—until he belatedly realized his slip of the tongue and tried to correct himself.  

 

“You, no— sister—no, my lady…”  

 

“…”  

 

“…”  

 

“…If it’s alright with you, Scholar, how about calling me ‘sister’? In case someone asks about our relationship along the way, it’d be easier to explain.”  

 

“Very well. Sister.”  

 

Suyeong quickly accepted the new title and even added an extra layer to their story.  

 

“Let’s say your husband died, and I’m escorting you back to your hometown.”  

 

Yiseo nodded blankly.  

 

“And let’s say that husband was a terrible man who died young, as if struck by divine punishment.”  

 

Was it really necessary to script such details? 

 

Yiseo’s expression seemed to question it, but since a plausible lie was better than none, she nodded anyway.  

 

Having effectively turned the Grand Prince into a dead man, Suyeong looked satisfied—until his gaze fell back on Yiseo’s foot, and his expression stiffened again.  

 

“So, sister, where are you headed?”  

 

“Didn’t the Shaman tell you?”  

 

“He only said I’d need to accompany you for three or four days…”  

 

“You set out on the road with just that much information? What if you’re leading me into danger?”  

 

“What, are we going into a tiger’s den?”  

 

Yiseo sighed and shook her head. He really seemed like a naive young man.  

 

“To Gaeseong. Whether there are tigers along the way, I couldn’t say.”

 

The path to her first home and final grave was smooth. With no one to stop her and only helpers along the way, it was only natural.  

 

Yiseo stared blankly at the darkening sky, fiddling with her wrist, still marked with red handprints. By the time these marks faded, the man who had left them would have forgotten her.  

 

After days of lying sick as if near death, he would rise as if nothing had happened…  

 

And live his life in his stead.  

 

🦋

 

Late at night, Gukmu was walking through the Seongsujeong.  

 

Having no name also meant having no place to stay. He spent most of his time in the Seongsujeong, and in truth, it was no different from his home.  

 

Gukmu thought of Yiseo, whom he had sent away at dawn.  

 

In a few days, perhaps even he might have a name or a home. Instead of living like this—using his official title as a name and the government office as his residence.  

 

His perpetually desolate heart stirred uneasily. 

 

To calm himself, he began cleaning the altar. As he wiped each ritual vessel, a commotion erupted outside.  

 

It was past the curfew, Injeong—a practice during the Joseon Dynasty where bells were rung to prohibit nighttime travel, a time when no one should have been wandering about. 

 

Just as he lifted his head at the disturbance, the door to the ritual chamber shattered.  

 

“…!”  

 

This was something Gukmu had not anticipated.  

 

Startled, he rose from his seat. Whether someone had thrown a water jar or something else from outside, shattered porcelain and splintered wood lay scattered across the floor.  

 

Through the now gaping doorway, a long leg stepped over the wreckage. 

 

Gukmu couldn’t see the ghostly figure’s face, but their presence alone was enough for recognition.  

 

“My Lord”  

 

Leegwang could barely hold himself upright. His unsteady body and unfocused eyes made it clear to anyone that he was not in his right mind.  

 

Because Gukmu couldn’t see, he understood the man’s condition all the more clearly. He could sense the restless spirits wreaking havoc within Leegwang’s hollowed-out body.

 

It only seemed like a disgusting mass of evil spirits, not a human, was moving.  

 

In that state, he shouldn’t even look human right now. Breathing alone must be painful, and he should be lying still, unable to move a finger.  

 

Yet Leegwang had come this far. In that condition.  

 

“Where…”  

 

He grabbed the Minister by the collar. 

 

A scorching heat radiated from him. Just from his grip and breath, the Minister could tell how terribly he was suffering from the fever.  

 

“Where did you hide it?”  

 

His low, strained voice cracked mercilessly at the end, as if forcing out sound from a body that could barely even speak.  

 

“It’s mine. Where is it?”  

 

His eyes flashed red in the darkness.