The snow crunched below their feet as they traversed the path to the mountain’s base. Despite being raised in the mountains and various other types of rough terrain, Min-jun did not particularly enjoy their cold, cumbersome trek. He’d much have preferred to stay inside the cozy inn, indulging in the King’s warm embrace. Of course, they’d come during one of the heaviest snowfalls of the year. Tch. Just their luck. How were they to get to whatever his mother wanted them to find? The ground was frozen, and the land was covered in at least their height in snow all around.
“It’s there,” the King said, not nearly as winded as Min-jun was. Min-jun took hold of the King’s arm to steady himself as he looked ahead. They’d reached the base of the mountain.
“How do you know?”
The King smiled, looking quite smug about the whole affair. “I can sense it. A chest that’s been buried a few bu beneath the ground.”
Could that be it? Min-jun recalled how the King had been able to sense their assassins approaching after they’d left Wolgwang City. One of these days he’d get the King to spill all of his magical secrets.
“Well, do you have any plans on how to get to it, then?” Min-jun asked.
The King glanced over the area, searching for any eavesdroppers. So, he was going to use his Gift. Min-jun watched with bated breath as the King shut his eyes. The ground beneath them began to shift. Min-jun clenched his jaw, trying to keep his awe from showing on his face, but how could he not be a little bit awestruck when the Earth itself gave way to the King’s wishes? A bundle of roots curled out of the snow, black soil mingling with the glittering snowdrifts. The tendrils had wrapped around the wooden chest like claws.
“Show off,” Min-jun whispered, though his heart had nearly skipped a beat at the sight. Brilliant.
“You didn’t think I was about to force you to dig through the mud for it, love, did you?” Indeed, Min-jun had been dreading having to potentially shovel out the frozen ground. The King let out a small, heart-throbbing chuckle, as he placed a kiss on Min-jun’s cheek. “Are you ready?”
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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Ktf mtfra kjr rwjii jcv mbnfgfv lc vlga, wemt ab Zlc-pec’r vlrqifjregf. Ktf kgfamtfv vlga uba yfcfjat tlr olcufgcjlir jr tf mifjgfv la boo atf ibmx. Llr wbatfg tjv rjlv cbatlcu jybea cffvlcu j xfs.
“Allow me,” the King said, pulling the wooden pin out of his hair. It only took a moment for the lock to click open. Min-jun drew in a shaky breath, the cold air filling his lungs with frost. His hands paused on top of the chest. Let’s bring an end to this, mother.
Chasing away his hesitation, Min-jun flipped open the little chest. Inside he found a letter and a simple jade hairpin, the type given to young ladies by their suitors. He picked up the hairpin, holding it up to the morning sunlight. A string of characters had been etched into its side. He recognized it as his mother’s name before she’d taken on a new identity in Saro. Xu Yaling. His mother’s family had been from the Northern Empire, and he knew she’d still missed her birthplace, even after decades apart, but even when the longing seemed to bring tears to her eyes, she would not join Min-jun’s father on his trips there. The only thing his mother had ever said of her family was that they’d disapproved of her marriage to a peasant, and so she’d cut them off and eloped with her lover, Hae Yeong-su, Min-jun’s father.
Min-jun placed the pin back into the chest and took hold of the letter instead. It looked to have been at least a decade old, the paper soft between his fingers. Unfolding it, he instantly recognized his mother’s sharp handwriting. For a moment, he only stared at it, hardly able to decipher the characters when his mind swam with anxieties he’d tried to bury. Sensing his discomfort, the King wrapped his arms around Min-jun’s waist, pulling him to his chest. With a breath, Min-jun began to read.
“To my little investigator,
It’s good to see that my lessons taught you well, even though you seemed to barely listen to them at the time. You’re nearly nine now, and I wish you would stay like this, though you’re a terrible menace sometimes. But I suppose if you’re reading this, you’ve grown up after all, and I’ve left you. I don’t know what led me to tell you of this place, but perhaps I always knew you’d have to find out eventually.”
The characters grew shaky toward the end, as if she’d lost her nerve and dropped the brush.
“Ah, look at me now. I can’t even write it out. You’re tending to the dinner with your father now, chatting away about something you saw in the forest. He’s a good man, know this. I’d been the one to drag him down. His only fault was loving me.”
The ink had become thicker there, nearly blotting out the character.
“Never mind that. You’re growing impatient, I’m sure. You always did whenever someone started jabbering on about something you had no interest in. Never one to let your disdain stay hidden. Gods help me. I might throw this letter away too. I’ve written about twenty now and always stop here. I tell myself you need to know, deserve to know, but when you do, I’m sure you’ll hate your mother fiercely.”
“I was born Xu Yaling in the capital of the Northern Empire. My family was sworn into servitude to the Yang family long before any of us were born. It is not the sort of servitude one can run away from. It is in our blood, and I pray that it might’ve somehow miraculously skipped over you and that you will never have to feel this wretched bond. I was betrothed to the young master of the Yang family at sixteen. Sensing my distaste for the union, the Emperor, the young master’s sworn brother, sent me away to settle my feelings. Instead, I met Yeong-su and Jae. So far from the young master’s reach, I could not get enough of my newfound freedom. And so, when the time came to return home, I stayed put in Saro.”
“The young master believed I would return one day, so he turned me into his spy in Saro and let me be for the time being. I should’ve known he wouldn’t give up so easily. He’s a man who follows only his own desires. He cares not for the hearts of others. The missions grew worse, bloodier, more dangerous. I’ve done things that I never imagined I’d be capable of, yet with a single word from the young master, I carry through with each mission, no matter the cost.”
The characters grew faint at the insults, as if she could hardly bring herself to write them.
“I love him nevertheless. Such is the plight of my family, a plague on our hearts. You can imagine with how strong it is that there isn’t much we can do to deny a member of the Yang family.”
Min-jun’s stomach churned, nausea rising in him. Master.
“I will spare you the details, my little investigator. I’m sure you’ve already put the pieces together. Your father knows. He loves you all the same. The jade hairpin is from the young master, who had intended it to be a wedding gift. He seemed quite sentimental about it. Sometimes, it makes me wonder if his affection is true. I cannot bring myself to throw it away properly. Perhaps, someday, if you are in need of it, it will be of use to you. Or perhaps you will throw it into the sea. Your will has always been stronger than mine, after all.
“Love,
your mother”
His fingers wrapped around the delicate hairpin once more. He would’ve never imagined his mother had endured such hardships. An unwanted engagement, a bond she didn’t want, a family divinely devoted to another, and a child possibly born from a bond that seemed to violate her free will at every turn. Was that bastard really his father? The man behind all of their troubles? The master who even Mother answered to, and who had played a role in his parents’ demise? What feelings did he have for Min-jun’s mother that he’d sent her to her death in such a manner?
She thought I’d hate her for this? She’d died thinking he’d hate her for this? He wished he could tell her it was not the case.
“I have an idea,” Min-jun whispered, as he raised the hairpin to glint in the sunlight. He recalled Mother’s influence, and how similar it sounded to the influence of this master. Perhaps they’d inspired each other.
“And what might that be?”
“Let’s see if the master has room in his heart for a son.”
The King gave him a weary look.
A/N: We’re back with some answers and more questions, as expected of HTKAK. Thank you for reading. If you liked this chapter, please leave a comment down below.
Author it’s so great to see you back! Thanks for this update! Hope all is well ❤️❤️
i certainly hope he does but i don’t have high hope for it… also, i reaaaally hope he won’t have any power on min-jun like he did on his mom
She must have been so torn all the time, since it seems neither side of her was a lie. She was both the mother who nurtured Min-jun and his young homeless friend (early Cheol), and also the spy/assassin who was caught and executed. Side note: yes, I also love it when the king shows off his gift 😏