SAFBIAN Ch 161

Chapter 161 (Extra 1.5)

“…Dori.”

“Yeah?”

Haban reached out a hand from beneath the blanket and took Dori’s hand.

His golden eyes instantly grew wide. In response, Dori’s eyes rounded with surprise.

Because he had followed Haban directly that morning, he hadn’t had the chance to stop by the flower garden. So today, the flowers in the vase were the ones plucked yesterday; his innocent expression asked if he really liked them so much. Unaware that his own smiling face was more beautiful than the flowers.

Dori was still under a great misconception.

“I dreamed a long dream while lying here. Do you want me to tell you what it was about?”

“Huh? …Uh-uh!”

“It’s the same thing over and over, so it might get a little boring.”

Haban smiled faintly.

Because he hesitated so much, curiosity grew. It seemed as if he was about to start a story when Eunuch Kim brought him some warm tea, placing it within Haban’s reach.

“What is it? Hurry up and tell me,” Dori urged eagerly. Haban slowly took a sip and parted his lips.

“It was a place as black as night.”

Dori swallowed hard.

Darkness continued for several days. Even with eyes closed, everything around was black; even when opened, the front remained pitch dark.

Then, at some moment, Haban held a brush in his hand. Becoming aware of it, a blank white paper unfolded, and an inkstone appeared beside it. Ink was ground without water.

Haban grasped the brush extremely naturally.

What was he trying to draw?

There was something faintly recalled in his memories. He hesitated long over the paper. Yet the moment the brush met the ink, his body began moving involuntarily.

Haban drew a bold stroke.

Black ink spread across the pure white paper. Circling a line and filling in densely, a blurry line took shape.

Why did he want to paint that?

His fingertips brushed the paper, and Haban pushed it aside.

Then he took out a new sheet and fell deep in thought again.

The space where Haban sat slowly filled with white, as if dispersing the darkness.

The thick brush hairs soaked up ink heavily. After rubbing the tip about the inkstone, a sharpened tip touched the white paper.

With each stroke of black ink, a long ear was drawn, then a plump forepaw and a bushy tail emerged.

Tap.

Finally finishing the painting, Haban put down the brush. On the paper was a vividly drawn fox that seemed almost alive, with black ink fixed into its eyes.

But it didn’t feel right.

Haban moved the paper aside again. Several similar pictures were scattered around him.

A fox curled its tail and buried its head beneath, asleep. A fox embracing and crunching on a giant apple.

Fox, fox, fox.

All were foxes.

‘How long will you keep doing this?’

“…”

‘It’s time to return.’

Haban silently took up the brush again. This was entirely his own world, where he could miss Dori freely and hold him deeply in his heart.

He wanted to stay here forever.

But.

‘…I.’

Haban lifted his head, brush in hand. Somewhere in the pure white emptiness, he smelled a scent of flowers.

It couldn’t be.

Haban shook his head.

‘…I must hurry.’

Still, it was a voice impossible to mistake.

‘Rise… Haban.’

A warm breeze blew.

The gentle wind carried the scent of flowers.

“When I opened my eyes, I saw you faintly through the haze.”

In truth, he hadn’t wanted to wake.

He feared that Dori, who had regained all memories, would resent him. He thought it enough that Dori lived by taking his own life.

Yet the moment Dori appeared in his faint vision,

“It was you. You’re the one I called beautiful.”

Haban wanted to live.

“Beautiful enough never to close my eyes again.”

His fox, gathered with the most precious things in the world, his own. He could never give Dori to anyone.

“…Haban.”

“If you still can’t believe it, I’ll say it again and again.”

Haban spoke calmly.

“En-enough!”

Before more embarrassing words spilled out, Dori interrupted swiftly. Eunuch Kim’s flustered presence was palpable.

“Believe me. I believe you. Okay? Stop now.”

Muttering softly, Dori buried his face deep in the thick blanket covering Haban.

His half-exposed ears burned bright red.

One spoonful at a time.

A thick, fragrant black liquid disappeared into Haban’s mouth. It was medicinal broth, painstakingly brewed by the physician for days and fed diligently by Dori.

‘What exactly did they put in this?’

Whenever the spoon stirred the bowl, my nose tingled sharply.

There’s a fox saying that medicine good for the body can sting the nose—the truth of which I understood. I flicked my tongue as if biting into astringent persimmon.

‘Does Haban not find this bitter? Just smelling it is so pungent.’

How could he swallow this without grimacing?

Pausing briefly, I met Haban’s narrowed gaze. He seemed lost in some other thought, his expression blank.

“…Mama.”

“Mm?”

Unable to bear it, Lady Jang gave a hint, and I came to my senses and resumed feeding him.

“…Ah!”

I blurted in surprise as some liquid trickled down past Haban’s chin.

“Are you alright? Mama, this must be uncomfortable, so from now on I’ll…”

“No. I want to do it myself.”

Just before dropping the spoon under the blankets, Lady Jang tried to intervene quietly, but I stubbornly shook my head.

“Let me. I prefer it this way, too.”

Haban’s lips softened before me. Once composed, I focused on feeding, soon finishing the bowl.

After wiping Haban’s mouth, I handed the tray to Lady Jang.

“Shall I lay you down again?”

“My head feels heavy from lying down so long. Let me sit a bit more.”

“Then I’ll do that. Let me cover you again.”

My clumsy attempt to nurse soothed the blankets.

I had worried when volunteering to feed the medicine myself, and even now, pulled the thick fuzzy blanket awkwardly with my whole body, unaware of the attendants wavering behind me.

“Endure the heat a bit. I asked earlier, and they said warmth is better than muscle tightening.”

“…Okay.”

Haban barely restrained a smile from escaping.

“If you’re tired, tell me.”

I filled my chest with pride.

I felt like I might burst into laughter. Haban reluctantly changed the subject,

“Anyway, you should finish what you were saying earlier.”

“…Where did I leave off?”

“I heard someone almost sent you outside the palace.”

“Yeah! Then told me to fast and pray there! Said it was my fault Haban couldn’t get up!”

“How arrogant.”

“Exactly!”

I pounded the corner of the blanket in frustration, then suddenly bit and tore at the rolled edge.

“They say when the emperor is ill or collapses, the attendants pray there. Haban knows the place, too?”

“Right.”

“If you’re sick, you should get treatment. Why knead your palms there?”

Babbling, I pouted. A gentle hand brushed back my hair.

I kept secret how I later had difficulty eating and would hide whenever officials dressed in court robes appeared from afar.

“At any rate, Geumhu blocked all of that.”

The prime minister scoffed, doubting one person’s devotion could fix anything.

He urged all ministers to fast and pray for the emperor. The combined sincerity would soon move the heavens.

Geumhu pointed to the distinguished minister who first brought up the matter, asking him to set an example. That minister cleared his throat, offering frailty as an excuse.

‘I didn’t realize your health was so poor. You’ve been burdened with grave state affairs, and even though the emperor isn’t presently at court, I’m sure he wouldn’t have refused your request to retire for convalescence in a refreshing place. Though temporary, I submitted the request and it was granted.’

Before I could breathe, Geumhu continued his sharp reprimand. The emperor was incapacitated, and the prime minister held the imperial seal.

With Geumhu supporting me, those who would insult me directly were silenced.

…So, I wanted to help Geumhu as well.

In the courtyard of the quarters, Jipyeong knelt, silently sitting all day like a statue. It was said he awaited punishment.

Golden eyes rolled suspiciously. If I kept mentioning how Geumhu had helped, perhaps I could also plead for Jipyeong’s forgiveness.

It was clear I was scheming. Haban feigned ignorance.

“You’ve been through a lot because of me.”

“…No, it wasn’t that bad.”

I only found it hard to face the palace attendants after regaining my memories.

Geumhu the prime minister, Jipyeong the guard captain, and the emperor’s close attendants, Lady Jang and Eunuch Kim, surrounded me like a protective screen. Even the quiet Hongi and mild-mannered Cheongyi rolled up their sleeves and hurried over if they heard even a slight insult from afar.

I had many good people around me to keep shrinking away in fear with my recovered memories.

“Being in your room all the time must be dull. Shall we go out for a walk together?”

“What are you talking about? Absolutely not. You must only walk inside the room for a while.”

I was pleased to see their worried faces flush red. Haban pulled me into his arms, warmth leaning upon me, bringing a deep sense of relief.

 “Mama” (마마) can be a formal honorific suffix attached to the names or titles of high-ranking court ladies or royal consorts as well, not only the emperor.