The temple looked hardly different from the last time Min-jun visited it. The roof had been repaired in the past weeks, and the golden wood appeared to be fresh out of a thorough polishing. Apprentice shamans walked in and out of the temple, their white and blue gowns fluttering in the wind. Sang sat on the steps as usual, her head balanced against the banister and her eyes shut in slumber.
Sun walked beside him: a tall, looming presence in his red and black uniform. When Min-jun was being escorted like this, they had to put on appearances. A consort being escorted by an unknown man was scandalous. A consort being escorted by a guard was customary.
“Stay here,” Min-jun said.
Behind them, the rest of his staff came to a stop. Jeong-eun shifted in her place, nervous as the memories of their last visit returned. Chae-won put a hand on Jeong-eun’s shoulder and shook her head. Good. Hold them back, Chae-won.
He had Sun with him, after all. Any unease that Min-jun might’ve felt had disappeared with the presence of his guard. It would be irritating to deal with Sun-woo again, but not dangerous with Sun by his side.
They called Sang awake, and she blinked a few times, bleary-eyed. Upon seeing them, she shot up from her spot on the stairs and bowed deeply.
“My apologies, Your Highness. I lost track of time,” she said.
“It’s all right,” Min-jun said. He gestured to the open door of the temple. “Would you mind guiding us to Head Shaman Sun-woo?”
“Of course not,” Sang said. “If you please, I will follow you inside.”
Min-jun and Sun ascended the steps first, stepping into a cool corridor. Sang joined them and led the way down the corridors to a quaint balcony on the other side of the building, quite similar to the one Min-jun had been attacked in but distinguished from it by the green pillars on either side of the patio. At the table placed in the center of the patio, sat a thoughtful Sun-woo. His hands tapped an erratic pattern against the wall of the cup in his hands, as he looked off into the trees surrounding the temple.
“Take a seat,” Sun-woo said. It would appear that he’d run out of all his propriety and good manners.
Min-jun did as he was told, taking a seat across from Sun-woo. An apprentice shaman scurried forward to pour the tea. His reflection stared back at him in tea the color of a leaf just starting to turn yellow. As usual, he looked immaculate, even with the signs of sleepless nights laid bare on his face. The medication was losing potency at a faster rate than he’d expected.
Sun-woo continued, “As I had said in my letter, it was never my intention to bring you pain–”
“But my soul was just in desperate need of cleansing,” Min-jun finished. His irritability had flared up as soon as the man had opened his mouth. This syrupy way of speaking … was this what Min-jun sounded like to other people?
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.
“Is,” Sun-woo corrected. “That is why I brought you here today.” The shaman tried to reach over to him, but Sun’s sheathed sword made him reconsider physical contact for the time being. “You have nothing to fear. After it is over, you’ll feel lighter than air. It is the way of the cleansing.”
“As compelling as that sounds, I’ll have to reject your offer.” Min-jun slid the cup away from himself. “As much as I dislike pain, I hate the idea of dying even more.”
“It’s not certain that you will die–”
Min-jun snorted, leaning his elbows on the pinewood table. “With that much loathing in your expression? I’ll be a corpse by the end of it. I’m sure the King would be delighted with you.” A pause. Should he continue? His arm burned up in pain and it only irritated him further, and so he went on. “What is this obsession you have with the King? Are you his lover? Do you really think he is such a fool that he wouldn’t be able to tell a friend from a foe?”
With Min-jun’s impudence, Sun-woo’s face cracked open. Angry lines folded into his skin, and his handsome countenance turned furious. He’d been simmering before but now Min-jun had tipped him over the edge. In his defense, he hadn’t meant to drive the poor man to this point. The only person he tore at in this manner was the King, who, as far as Min-jun could tell, couldn’t be swayed by even the vilest of comments.
“Alright, alright.” Min-jun sighed. He had to keep the situation under control until whatever the King had planned arrived at the scene. That meant keeping his mouth shut. “I apologize. That was out of line.”
“You truly are a disgusting creature. Your mind and mouth are as filthy as your body.”
Oh, that’s a new one. Min-jun slapped his hand on the table, and it hurt more than he’d expected but he held the flinch back. “How is it you can call me all manner of things but the second I call you the King’s lover you get all scary? How is that fair? What about your mind and mouth, spouting such cruel things?” Min-jun pointed to himself. “How can I trust the spiritual purification of someone so rude?”
“Cruel . . . rude, why, I never . . .” Sun-woo seemed at a loss for words. So at a loss of words that he stood up. “Well, I suppose, since you’ve shown no signs of repentance nor hope for rehabilitation, I’m afraid I must take some precautions for the rest of our conversation.”
A shrill yelp sounded from the outside of the temple.
Oh for the love of Gods.
“You’re holding my entourage hostage?” he said, indignant. He’d been in these scenarios before. Sometimes, he’d even been the hostage, tied up in some abandoned hanok, or led away with a knife held at his throat. If a threat such as Sun-woo’s was issued, something valuable would inevitably be dangled in front of him. And that scream sounded like one of the youngest maids.
“I thought it would be better motivation for you.”
“Oh, so my soul is irredeemable without an exorcism, but you still expect me to care about my staff?”
“You don’t?”
Really, it was more of a waste of time talking to him than it was to the King. Min-jun clicked his tongue and then whirled around. Sun followed him out, his hand still poised around the hilt of his sword.
Outside, the shaman apprentices had managed to capture most of Min-jun’s entourage, with a few exceptions, who had probably long since abandoned the temple to seek help. They had knives at their throats. A classic tactic. Classic because it worked so well.
“I’ll give you three minutes to call off your guard,” Sun-woo said, as he stepped out of the temple behind them. Sun shielded Min-jun from the shaman, showing no signs of backing off. Even if Min-jun wanted to call him off, he wouldn’t be able to. Sun followed the King’s orders: Protect Consort Hui. Listening to Consort Hui was not a requirement, or else Min-jun would’ve gotten rid of him long ago. Was Sun-woo so deranged that he couldn’t even understand that?
“You’re really going to slaughter twelve people just because you’re not getting away.” Min-jun smiled and hoped it would make the shaman angry. “Isn’t that against the rules? Maybe all those souls you’ve cleansed are now rubbing off on you.”
“Two minutes.”
Min-jun pursed his lips. What to do? What to do?
“Even the field,” his mother’s voice advised, warm and commanding all at once.
Of course. But would he die if he touched the crazy shaman? No, Sun would save him before it got to that point.
Without another word, Min-jun unsheathed Sun’s sword, wavered for a second under its wait, and put the rest of his strength into catching Sun-woo in a rather uncomfortable chokehold. He really should’ve taken a dagger after all. Or at least a kitchen knife.
His hand shook with the weight, but from a distance, Min-jun could see the fruits of his labor. The shaman apprentices looked perfectly shaken. If his entourage had been more skilled, then perhaps they would’ve been able to get away at that moment.
“What underhanded tactics –” Sun-woo started.
“Oh, shut up.” I can’t believe the King thought I’d become friends with you. “Listen, all of you. I know none of you likely wanted to attend a massacre today. I’m not sure how he got you all to agree to this. Money, fame –”
“Loyalty,” Sun-woo managed.
“I told you to keep quiet.” Honestly. “Whatever it is, it’s not worth a person’s life. It’s not for you to judge who lives and who dies. That goes for you too, Head Shaman.”
“And what are you doing right now?”
“I’m not going to kill you . . . tsk, didn’t I tell you to be quiet?” Min-jun tried to recall the other ways his fellow workers had calmed potential murderers down before. He’d always been on the sidelines, working out what to do if the suspect did end up killing the hostage. “That doesn’t mean that if I slice you open it’s not going to hurt, so if you all want your leader back without a scratch, I suggest you let my people go.”
His entourage looked close to tears. One called his title meekly. “Your Highness!” a chorus followed. On, now he felt embarrassed, and he wasn’t sure how long his arms could hold out for. That Sun-woo hadn’t escaped yet was surprising given Min-jun’s strength waned by the second.
Oh, Min-jun realized, Sun-woo was afraid. Trembling, in fact.
Well, maybe that would teach him not to meddle with people that had nothing to do with him.
Most of the apprentices began to lower their knives, seeming ashamed and relieved at the same time. Min-jun lowered his own sword but kept Sun-woo in a chokehold for the sake of his own penchant for vengeance.
And then, then he heard one of the apprentices scream out in pain, as they collapsed onto their knees with a black arrow protruding from their side.
“Soon Guk,” Sun-woo called out. With Min-jun’s arm loosened and Sun-woo’s fear dispelled, the shaman raced forward. Idiot. Arrows could come raining down at any second. Shelter. They had to get back inside.
Min-jun turned to Sun, eyes wide. “Is this him? Is this his plan?”
Sun’s brow furrowed. “No one else could bring this many archers for an attack into the palace.”
“It’s only been one so far.”
“My point exactly. No one can get past his Majesty.” Was it his loyalty talking or was he right? Min-jun couldn’t tell. Did it matter? That the King was behind this should be of little comfort.
“Everyone get inside now! If you can, run erratically, so they can’t guess your movements!” Min-jun yelled. Like sheep following a shepherd, they did so. A few had fallen already, but even the ones shot attempted to run along with the crowd. All except for Sun-woo, who stayed close to his injured apprentice like he could heal him with the power of his deity. A lot of good that would do them if they were both dead.
Min-jun got ready to head inside with Sun, and then stopped, inexplicably. Somehow, he couldn’t leave the stupid shaman to his untimely death. Although he should. Although it would solve at least a few of his many problems.
“Sun.”
His guard stood by his side, undaunted. “Your Highness.”
“Protect me.”
I don’t think it’s a good idea, Min-jun 😶
Min-jun may be smart but he has a lot of bad ideas lol
Hoo boy, Min-jun. I have a feeling this will not end well.
you’re definitely right about that 😱