But she wasn’t ordinary either.
With a natural talent for beguiling others, Woo-hye skilfully created an atmosphere of sadness.
“I’ll be honest with you. Yes, I suspect you, sir.”
Her voice was calm but slightly trembling, as if she had been frightened but had summoned the courage to speak.
“It’s all too coincidental, and as I have no memory of yesterday… it frightens me.”
She looked pitiful – so convincing that no one would think of doubting her.
Cheong-un stared intently at the seemingly confused Woo-hye.
There was no trace of pity in his eyes.
“I found you collapsed yesterday near a building called Pungwoo-gak. I just took you to a doctor and got you treated.”
Woo-hye scoffed inwardly.
“I collapsed near Pungwoo-gak?”
It was impossible that Gayu didn’t know that she had appeared near Pungwoo-gak.
No – there must have been other witnesses.
After all, Pungwoo-gak occupied a large building in the heart of a busy district.
“My last memory is definitely of the apothecary. That’s strange…”
“Well, it’s not like someone carried you there, so you must have walked to Pungwoo-gak on your own.”
Cheong-un’s voice remained calm, so much so that it was impossible to detect any emotional fluctuation and judge whether he was telling the truth.
‘How can you talk like that?’
It was a strange kind of diplomacy, unlike the tired cunning of a seasoned politician.
“I’ll have to look into that separately.”
No matter how she looked at him, this man didn’t seem anything like the villain of the rumours.
Deciding it was time to end the conversation, Woo-hye apologised politely once more.
“I was rude to suspect the very person who helped me. Please forgive me for my unfounded doubts.”
“I understand. Think nothing of it.”
“But… did you help me because you recognised who I was? From what you said, it sounds like that.”
Cheong-un replied casually,
“Well, I had seen your portrait.”
Last year, Seol Mi-hee had personally sent a court painter to Doha to paint Woo-hye’s portrait. It seemed that this was the one he had seen.
“Well, of course. It was for a marriage proposal.”
Just then, one of Cheong-un’s aides spoke up.
“Actually, this portrait is quite famous in Akyang, my lady – Ow! Why’d you hit me?”
The one who hit him was another servant.
“Be quiet.”
Stunned by this completely new information, Woo-hye muttered.
“I’ve never heard anything like this before…”
“You’re already famous in Doha, so maybe… Ouch! Why are you hitting me again?”
“You talk too much. Watch your mouth.”
While the two attendants argued, Woo-hye took the opportunity to ask the second question she’d been curious about.
“Is there anyone else here with you?”
“There are two attendants. Iho and Samho. You two, greet the lady.”
Woo-hye frowned at their names.
It wasn’t unheard of for masters to give their servants thoughtless names, but calling them Iho and Samho was a bit much.
‘Does that mean there’s also an Ilho (Number One)?’
She was mildly curious as to how many numbered servants there were.
“It is an honour to meet you, my lady. I’m Iho.”
“I am Samho.”
Iho’s voice was playful and relaxed, giving off a cheerful air. In contrast, Samho was silent and stern.
‘Could one of them be the man in black?’
Woo-hye smiled in polite acknowledgement.
Her graceful and refined demeanour, befitting a noble young lady, made Iho look at her in admiration – only to be slapped again by Samho.
‘They are amusing people.’
Woo-hye thought as she deftly changed the subject.
“But you seem to have arrived in Doha earlier than I’d heard. Did you arrive yesterday?”
“That’s right. I plan to do some business here, so I went to Pungwoo-gak. That’s where I found you collapsed.”
That was something she hadn’t expected either.
‘So that’s why he mentioned Pungwoo-gak..’
As far as she knew, Cheong-un had failed in business several times in the past.
After that, he had supposedly given up running businesses altogether and turned to investing instead.
Even that hadn’t gone well – he’d been cheated here and there, or lost large sums of money, and now he was said to be living on an allowance.
‘Maybe coming to Doha, where his father has little influence, made him want to try running a business again?’
‘So he’s caught the business bug too.’
She wasn’t particularly interested in what kind of business he was planning, but she thought she might be able to pick it up cheaply when it inevitably failed. So, out of curiosity, she asked:
“What kind of business are you planning?”
“I intend to produce and sell ritual alcohol.”
Huh.
“Ritual… alcohol?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve been keeping an eye on this particular shop. When the owner was about to close down, they tried to make ritual alcohol, but the business failed. I spread a rumour that the place was unlucky and haunted, then bought it cheap.”
‘So that idiot was Cheong-un.’
“Running the business is my responsibility. You just rest and concentrate on your health.
It sounded reassuring – if only he hadn’t practically declared himself terminal by saying the business wouldn’t last more than three months.
‘Sigh… I don’t get it.’
She couldn’t figure him out – was he someone who wasn’t easily fooled, or just plain stupid?
For Woo-hye, who was usually quick to judge a person’s character or weaknesses from the smallest clues, this was a highly unusual case.
Afterwards, the two briefly exchanged thoughts about the wedding preparations.
“It’s best to skip greeting each other’s parents on the wedding day.”
“Yes. I think we’ll have to keep it simple.”
It was an abandoned wedding – no parents, siblings or other relatives would be present.
One might have found the situation pitiful, but neither Woo-hye nor Cheong-un seemed to mind.
It was then that Iho stepped forward.
“If there aren’t enough people to celebrate, even the blessings coming down the aisle will fly away. Why don’t we invite many guests? As many as we can – maybe even everyone in Doha!”
That would have been nice, but realistically it wasn’t possible.
“We can’t afford that.”
Woo-hye replied, rejecting the idea.
But Iho didn’t give in.
“Oh, that’s nothing! Our master can cover it with his own money, right, master?”
Even when it came to spending his own money, Cheong-un responded as if it didn’t concern him.
“Do what you want.”
“There you go. Master himself said to invite as many guests as we want! A feast should be lively. That way the household will prosper in the future!”
Woo-hye was more of a merchant than a nobleman.
In business it was important not to lose money.
From this perspective, a wedding was a loser with nothing to gain – a money pit. It made more sense to spend the money on expanding the business.
‘On the other hand, it’s not like I’m the one paying.’
If Cheong-un ended up in debt, it would actually work to her advantage.
It would give her an excuse to hire someone to “take care of” a debtor who couldn’t pay back.
Having calculated that this wouldn’t be a loss, Woo-hye replied like an obedient bride-to-be,
“I will do as you wish, sir.”
“Then it’s settled.”
Cheong-un said, rising from his seat like someone glad to be done with an unpleasant task.
“Let us behave properly and live piously until the wedding.”
Didn’t he mean that they shouldn’t have anything to do with each other until the ceremony?
Woo-hye felt more confused than she had all day.
‘Anyone who heard that would think I was the one making advances.’
“Ah, yes… of course.”
“Then I’ll say goodbye.”
The conversation ended awkwardly and the two left the reception room together.
“Rest well, Master Cheong-un.”
Woo-hye nodded and turned back with Hyang-eum.
At that moment, a clear, elegant scent wafted past them on the breeze.
It was such a pleasant scent that she instinctively turned around.
‘Is that sweet osmanthus?’
Other scents were faintly mixed in, but the most distinct was the scent of sweet osmanthus.
It must have come from a bag of different scents.
It was a beautiful scent – but it dissipated so quickly that it almost felt cold.
It was such a fleeting moment that she found herself strangely longing for it.
“Is something wrong, my lady?”
She didn’t know why, but she found herself thinking that the scent must have belonged to Cheong-un.
“Hyang-eum, tell me honestly. Do you think Cheong-un is handsome? Like what Nanny Gye said?”
“What?! Oh no – not at all. He just looks like Cheong-un. Just like in the portrait. Well, he looks a bit better in person – he has a good presence, he’s tall and has a sturdy build – but he’s definitely not handsome.”
“I see.”
If that was the case, then Cheong-un couldn’t possibly be the man in black.
The man in black was someone whose beauty was unmistakable just by looking at his eyes.
***
As soon as Cheong-un entered the detached quarters, he dug his nails into the back of his neck.
Rip!
He shed his skin as if he was shedding a layer, like a snake shedding its skin.
And just like that, a completely different appearance appeared – as if by magic.
A moment ago, he’d looked like an ordinary man, but now his face was as beautiful as an immortal from the heavenly realm.
His eyes, fixed and righteous, seemed to see through everything.
His lips, tightly sealed as if he would never carelessly express his feelings, gave him an air of severity.
Even a simple movement, like turning his back to the window, carried a sharp energy, like the gleam of a blade.
Every part of him was so sharp and defined that he seemed cold – yet that coldness gave a sense of trustworthiness.
Seeing his true form, Iho and Samho bowed respectfully.
“My lord.”
It was not a gesture a mere servant would make.
It was the formal salute a soldier would give to his superior.
The man who had been Cheong-un replied.
“Rise.”
He was none other than Yoon San-gyeong, Prince Ye’s nephew and the man known as the God of War.
Suckerforshipping
osmanthus? but where are those who share the memory…
WAIT DOES THAT MEAN HE’S THE ONE WHO SENT HER BROTHER TO HIS DEATH?? OHHHHH TEAAAAAA