As True as a Dream Chapter 136

When Yi-Ho arrived at the alley, he saw Hae-Joo sitting in the corner of Eun-sil’s empty house, tears streaming silently down her blank face.

The sight of her shattered expression wrenched his heart.

At first, he’d been bewildered by how easily Hae-Joo swayed his emotions—but now, it felt familiar.

After watching her for a moment, he decided against rushing to comfort her. She needed time to grieve.

 

Then his gaze sharpened.

Shoe marks littered Hae-Joo’s back and arms.

He summoned a shapeshifted crow and demanded an explanation.

The crow relayed the story: A policeman had dragged Hae-Joo away from the scene, leaving those bruises.

Yi-Ho’s eyes darkened.

“Find that officer,” he ordered. “Handle him.”

 

While waiting for the crow’s return, he watched Hae-Joo from the alley’s shadow.

She seemed frozen in time, her red-rimmed eyes hollow with despair.

 

Thanks to Hongo’s swift report, Yi-Ho already knew the gist of the massacre.

Last night, Man Insa—pale and frantic—had fled after their confrontation.

This carnage must’ve followed.

To regenerate his severed arm, Man Insa needed blood—rivers of it.

And this was the result.

 

Unable to bear Hae-Joo’s trembling figure any longer, Yi-Ho brought her back to Song Yue Pavilion.

He held her as she curled into the blankets, then succumbed to his own exhaustion.

His body’s recovery was slower now, fatigue clinging like a second skin.

 

He woke to the rustle of paper.

Hae-Joo wasn’t beside him—she sat on the sofa, reading something by dawn’s faint light.

Suddenly, she looked up and muttered:

“The Bloodstone of Ten Thousand Souls…”

Her voice was a storm of emotions: disgust, horror, doubt, denial, anguish.

 

Then she doubled over, gagging.

Yi-Ho was at her side instantly.

“Are you sick?”

 

Hae-Joo parted her lips but couldn’t speak.

He recognized her turmoil—the revulsion sparked by that word.

‘The Bloodstone.’

Now she knew its truth: a stone forged from ten thousand lives.

Eun-sil’s family, the alley’s victims, the slaughtered villagers of Sogok…

And him—a creature who needed it to survive.

 

Earlier, at Eun-sil’s house, Yi-Ho had answered Hae-Joo’s questions honestly.

He’d expected her to recoil.

Yet now, the corner of his mouth twitched.

He never wanted to disappoint or hurt her again.

In this wretched era, he’d only wished to survive—but deceiving her after she’d lost so much would be unforgivable.

 

Besides, after learning Eun-sil’s family died by Man Insa’s hand, he’d realized:

‘He couldn’t use the Bloodstone.’

Not if he wanted to honor Hae-Joo’s heart.

Above all, he refused to force her into that cruel choice—saving him with a stone steeped in her loved ones’ blood.

 

Yi-Ho exhaled.

His body had been decaying for over a decade.

He still lived, even if he coughed blood more often.

Another few decades wouldn’t change much.

He’d grow weaker, but he’d endure.

As Hae-Joo said: Staying alive is what matters.

And this woman—who loved him despite knowing he was a gumiho—would stay by his side, even if he withered.

 

Who could’ve imagined?

That he’d one day give his heart to a human, deeming his own life insignificant by comparison.

If Hae-Joo left this world first, he wouldn’t care how or when his own end came.

 

He only needed to outlast her.

Pain and frailty meant nothing.

 

Life had never been kind to him anyway.

 

“…Hae-Joo.”

“Yes.” Her voice was thick.

“Don’t burden yourself with thoughts of the Bloodstone.”

She straightened, pulling away to stare at him.

“What…?”

“There’s time. We’ll find another way.”

 

Hae-Joo’s breath hitched.

“N-no. Boss, if something happens to you, I— You need the Bloodstone. I’ll… I’ll be okay.”

Tears welled as she stumbled over the lie.

 

Yi-Ho brushed her damp cheekbone, smiling.

“I promise.”

“I won’t die so easily. Even like this… I’ll outlive you. Monsters are stubborn.”

 

“That’s— That’s ridiculous! I—!”

 

He pulled her into his arms. She clutched his back like a lifeline, sobbing into his shoulder.

 

“I’ll live. One day longer than you. So you never lose someone again. If you can tolerate a sickly man… I don’t need the Bloodstone.”

“No! Manager Hongo said— Without it, you’ll—”

“Hongo’s always been a liar. Age has made him paranoid.”

 

Her grip tightened.

“Stop! I— I don’t want to hear this!”

A pause. Then, steel entered her voice:

“I will be okay. Whatever the Bloodstone is… If it saves you, that’s enough.”

 

Her desperation gripped his heart.

Absurdly, he laughed.

Her love—raw and unwavering—warmed him more than any stone ever could.

 

“No, you won’t.” He stroked her hair. “You’ll never be ‘okay’ with it.”

Hae-Joo looked up, eyes red-rimmed.

 

“I…”

“Shall we be honest?”

She bit her lip, then nodded.

 

“A stone made of blood… It disgusts you, doesn’t it?”

Another tiny nod.

“But… it’s already consumed so many lives,” she whispered.

“If it’s used by Saito or the Japanese… wouldn’t it be better if you had it? And— And if you could use it to help our people… then… then…”

Her voice broke.

 

Yi-Ho studied her.

“What would you have me do?”

Her eyes darted, searching for an answer she didn’t have.

 

He smoothed her hair.

“If I used it, could you still look at me? Or would you see the stone’s horrors instead? Would you grow to hate me?”

Her fingers dug into his back.

“See? You wouldn’t be okay.”

 

“…It’s still better than losing you. Better than it being used by them! Just— Just stop. Please… not now…”

 

Yi-Ho sighed, rubbing her back.

“Alright.”

He held her close, his chest heavy.

Her pain was his doing.

 

‘For now, this is enough.’

But when the time came—he’d ensure she never had to make that cruel choice.