TMTISTBH CH 21

Chapter 21

Startled, he turned to find a chill gaze looking down at him. A face that would not fade from memory. It was none other than Gyeon Jaun.

When had he returned?

Though the situation was unexpected, Inho concealed his surprise and met him with composure.

“Who are you? Release me.”

“What were you doing here?”

“I came on Lord Seongsu’s order to look in on Gasari. Not finding him in his usual spot, I was searching for him.”

“And what exactly do you intend to do for Gasari?”

Even in the face of the sardonic question, Inho replied evenly without a change of expression.

“Gasari follows me well, and His Highness has at times asked me to spend time with him. Lord Seongsu knows of this and ordered me to see to his supper tonight.”

At the calm, self-possessed answer, Jaun’s brows knit.

“Gasari follows you?”

“Yes. While the surprise is understandable, would you kindly let go? I do not yet even know your name, my lord.”

“…”

The strength left his hand. As Inho tugged his rumpled collar into order, Jaun tipped his chin.

“Lead the way. I won’t believe it until I see it with my own eyes.”

Casting Jaun a brief glance, Inho turned first. By the light of a small oil lamp, he walked silently down the dark corridor.

He affected nonchalance, but there was no easy way to steady a startled heart. He had prepared several alibis in case he ran into Prince Eunhun himself, yet the instant he saw Jaun’s face, his tongue tripped in sudden discomposure.

Unpleasant.

Touching his stiffened lips, Inho quickened his pace at the sight of a blue-tinged bulk ahead.

The prince’s attendants, flustered, were offering Gasari long sweet potatoes and apples, but the boar, sprawled on the ground, shook his head to refuse. Noticing movement, they turned and, on seeing Inho, called out in relief.

“Inho, is that you! What brings you here?”

“Are you busy? If not, could you help feed Gasari for a bit?”

“I came to see him anyway. Leave his supper to me and take your rest.”

At the attendants’ brightened faces, Jaun raised an eyebrow. They were not the only ones pleased. Gasari, who had been listless all day, had risen at some point and was watching Inho.

Leaving Jaun at the inner yard’s threshold, Inho went in alone and, with practiced ease, stroked Gasari’s head.

“Why skip your meal and vex people? His Highness is only away for a day—he will hear of this when he returns.”

When he offered a carrot to the snuffling, evasive Gasari, the beast took it readily. Inho continued feeding him until he had emptied two baskets.

Apparently getting full, Gasari pushed the third basket’s contents around with his nose, playing. Inho understood it as a wish to play, but since it was late, he stood, saying they would see each other tomorrow. He gazed at Gasari for a moment, then scolded him lightly, as if admonishing a child.

“Must you show your frailty like this?”

Gasari blinked his coal-black eyes.

He understood well enough. Among divine beasts, some particularly sensitive ones instinctively sense their master’s peril early. Gasari was likely such a one—refusing to leave the prince’s side without knowing why, nerves on edge, and thus quickly exhausted. No wonder he was worn out.

Inho bent close and whispered into Gasari’s ear.

“I’ll tell only you: I will save them. His Highness and everyone of Hwalwon Palace.”

Gasari’s eyes flew wide and he let out a great bellow. Inho smiled, the corner of his mouth lifting, and straightened.

“So pull yourself together, and be my strength.”

“Grroo—rooh! Roooh!”

Stamping his feet and roaring skyward, Gasari spun in place, unable to contain his excitement, then bounded off toward the back mountain.

“…What a singular creature, intent on making a spectacle of himself.”

Even so, the feeling it left was not displeasure. With a brief smile, Inho turned—and halted when he saw Jaun leaning against a pillar. He moved to pass by without acknowledgment, but Jaun’s voice brushed his ear.

“What did you tell Gasari?”

“…I didn’t know you were still here.”

“Whatever you whispered made him exceedingly excited.”

Pressed with the persistent question, Inho finally turned to face him.

“I only soothed him a little. More importantly, has your misunderstanding been cleared up, my lord?”

“…I misunderstood. I apologize for earlier.”

“I will not pursue the matter further, either.”

With a slight bow, Inho walked past. This time, Jaun did not stop him, but watched his retreating back in silence.

Under candlelight, the brush moved swiftly. Beneath the lowered lids, keen eyes sparked with intelligence.

The prince’s office had yielded much information, but no trace relating to treason. It was only what showed on the surface, so certainty was impossible; still, if the net had not yet reached Hwalwon Palace, it was good news.

To change the future, he would need to take on a heavier post within Hwalwon. He had to win the trust of Prince Eunhun and Lord Seongsu, and raise his influence…

The brush tip paused on the paper. After checking the finished characters again, Inho waited for the ink to dry, then folded the sheet neatly and called Seol.

“Seol. Come here a moment.”

“Why?”

“Tomorrow at the Pharmaceutical Hall, can you slip this into Chief Physician Jeong Ryeom’s desk drawer without anyone noticing? He mustn’t realize it was placed there.”

Inho stressed the point carefully. Seol, though puzzled, nodded that she understood.

On his way back to his office after visiting patients at Cheongrinwon, Jeong Ryeom came upon a small girl. At the sight of him, she started and bowed her head deeply.

“…Hello, Chief Physician.”

“Very well.”

Before he could say more, the child ducked her head again and darted off as if fleeing.

Isn’t that that boy’s sister?

Having just returned from Cheongrinwon with stories fresh in mind, his attention lingered. Glancing down at the storage ledger in his hand, Jeong Ryeom entered his office.

As he sat at his neatly arranged desk and began to open the ledger, his eye caught on the third drawer—left slightly ajar. In an office where all was ordered and aligned, the single flaw stood out. Frowning, he reached to pull it open. Inside lay a letter that had not been there before.

“What is this…”

He unfolded the slightly crumpled letter. As he read, his eyes grew wider by degrees. A thought flashing across his mind, he opened the ledger he had brought—then leapt to his feet on seeing that the handwriting in the two places was identical.

Bun Seongsu looked back and forth between the agitated Jeong Ryeom, gesticulating as he spoke, and the letter in his hand.

“He’s a talent Cheongrinwon needs. We must bring him in and educate him further.”

“I understand what you’re saying, Jeong Ryeom. But the boy is someone His Highness personally takes an interest in. I cannot decide this rashly.”

Bun Seongsu and Jeong Ryeom went straight to knock on Prince Eunhun’s office door. There was already a guest inside. Jaun rose and greeted the newcomers.

“Jaun, I heard you’d returned. When did you arrive?”

“Last night.”

“Why are there so many people wanting to see me first thing in the morning?”

In a notably good mood, the prince gestured for them to sit.

Bun Seongsu, after casting a glance at Jeong Ryeom, who was near bursting with impatience, set the letter and ledger before the prince.

“This letter was sent under a blind name to Chief Physician Jeong today. It contains informed opinions on general operations such as the storage and handling of medicinal herbs.”

“Hmm… And, is it of use?”

Prince Eunhun’s gaze shifted to Jeong Ryeom, who answered quickly, face alight.

“We must study it further to be sure of its utility—but even if it were not, these are words that could not be written without a precise understanding of yin-yang and the circulation of qi. I wish to bring him in and train him. He will grow into a talent of Hwalwon.”

“You say it was sent anonymously, yet you speak as if you know who sent it?”

At the prince’s question, Jeong Ryeom pointed to the ledger beneath.

“Please look at the ledger. Yesterday, during the storeroom sorting, the attending physician had Inho take dictation. He calculates swiftly and handles tasks deftly, so I requested that he be sent to aid us with winter preparations.”

Nodding as he read the ledger, Prince Eunhun’s expression turned intrigued.

“The handwriting matches the letter? Are you saying the anonymous letter was from Inho?”

At the mention of Inho’s name, even Jaun—silent until now—asked if he might see the letter as well.

“He had his younger sister slip it into my drawer in secret.”

“To think he did such a thing. Hahah!”

Laughing heartily, Prince Eunhun called for a servant and gave an order.

“Go to Inyeondang and bring Inho here.”

Footnotes:

1. Maemyeong (매명): Literally “under a blind/hidden name,” i.e., anonymously or pseudonymously; often used for letters or petitions submitted without revealing the sender’s identity.

2. Yin-yang and qi circulation: Concepts from traditional East Asian medicine describing paired polarities (yin-yang) and vital energy (qi) flowing through channels to maintain health; the text implies technical knowledge of these systems.

3. Seok (석): A traditional Korean volume unit in grain accounting; historical values vary by era and system, but commonly scaled in relation to smaller grain measures.