Before I End Up as Rabbit Stew - Chapter 21

Their water fetching was utterly inefficient. When Yimae threw up her hands in what seemed like surrender, Heukryong laughed triumphantly.

“I won.”

“You won, you won, congratulations.”

She conceded cleanly. Heukryong immediately withdrew his hand. Though he had been holding on out of spite, it seemed he too was exhausted. He leaned against the shabby weeping willow pillar. Yimae shook her head, watching him stroke the tree bark as pathetically as if it were a puppy.

What to do with those saplings, anyway? There was no way to water them all tonight. She could do it if she were willing to die trying, but it would take a physical toll. Yimae didn’t want to break her limbs just to plant saplings.

The soil in the palace grounds was moister and softer than the soil elsewhere, but it was still difficult to plant the saplings directly. After a moment of thought, Yimae suddenly came up with a solution.

“This should work!”

She gathered up all the sapling bundles. Heukryong, who was leaning against the tree as if he had become one with it, asked,

“Where are you going?”

“Just wait here a moment.”

Dragging him along would only increase the travel time. Yimae left Heukryong behind and strode out. She stopped in front of Hee-tae’s lotus pond.

“Hello?”

Yimae greeted brightly. Since it was where Hee-tae’s spirit was bound, it felt as if the lotuses had ears and eyes. Even as the night shade soaked everything, the vibrant, large lotuses remained perfectly upright. The faintly shimmering petals seemed otherworldly, like a painting.

“I’ll be borrowing your help.”

Yimae busily unwrapped the bundles and planted the saplings along the edge of the lotus pond. Lotuses were plants with excellent purification abilities. The soil and water of the pond were very clean. The moist, damp soil gently accepted the saplings. This way, she could protect the saplings’ roots for at least a day or two.

“Should I just grow them here?”

Yimae muttered to herself after planting all the saplings in the pond. Just then, a great wind blew, causing countless lotuses to sway. Yimae felt a pang of guilt for no reason and patted the ground.

“Haha, you’re right, aren’t you? Growing forbidden plants here is a bit much, isn’t it?”

Yimae smiled awkwardly and got up. She felt a presence and turned around, thinking it was Heukryong, but the Head Guard of the Royal Secret Service was standing in the empty path. Startled by the boulder-like figure that had suddenly appeared, Yimae screamed.

“Eek!”

It felt like her heart had shrunk in half. Yimae placed a hand on her chest and stared at him.

“What’s going on?”

And before she could avoid it, the Head Guard drew his sword. The blue-honed blade was held to Yimae’s neck. Yimae swallowed hard and scanned the Head Guard. His face, hardened more frighteningly than the blade, was staring at Yimae. For some reason, his feet were covered in mud.

“Do you know what kind of lotuses these are that you dare touch them?”

“F-First, the sword…”

“I sensed the energy of the White Tiger deity, what’s going on? Where is Heukryong?”

Questions poured in. Yimae couldn’t answer a single one properly. It felt like her neck would be cut if she moved even slightly. Each time Yimae made a small movement to escape, the blade pressed harder.

“If you don’t answer, I’ll cut your throat right now.”

But Yimae didn’t have to answer. A sharp flash of light slanted down, and another sword tip aimed at the Head Guard. Lee Youngdo showed no mercy and slashed the Head Guard’s neck as it was. Although only the edge touched, a red line immediately appeared on his neck.

“Heukryong!”

Startled, Yimae whipped around to look at Heukryong. She wondered if he wasn’t controlling his strength well because he was drunk. But the face of the Heukryong she turned to look at was calmer and more piercing than ever.

“Kneel.”

At that one word, the Head Guard prostrated himself. The sword he was holding clattered to the ground. Blood dripped from his neck as he knelt and kowtowed.

“I am deeply sorry!”

Watching that, Yimae suddenly felt a tightness in her chest, as if she had swallowed a rice cake too quickly.

The Head Guard was only doing his duty. He must have sensed the energy of the gate summoned by the White Tiger Secret Service. That was why his feet were covered in mud from going all the way to the main gate. He was just a loyal subject trying to guard against intruders and find his missing lord.

Yimae grabbed Heukryong’s sleeve and shook it slightly.

“Stop it. This one is also surprised…”

Before she could finish speaking, Yimae narrowed her eyes. Heukryong was swaying slightly from side to side. His long, tied-up hair swayed lightly like a tail, following his movements. His hands, which were holding Lee Youngdo, were messily covered in water and dirt.

Yimae realized. Everything was a mess except for his expression.

“What? You’re saying you have to go now?”

She spoke loudly on purpose, patting Heukryong’s hand. She wanted to get out of this place before the Head Guard noticed Heukryong’s drunkenness.

To draw a royal guard while drunk! She suddenly thought that they should create a law prohibiting the use of weapons while intoxicated for the Four Gods.

“You have to put this away to leave, right? Should I put it away?”

Heukryong, who was swaying like a reed in the wind, stared directly at Yimae. It was as if the sun that had just disappeared over the horizon had entered his black eyes, blazing fiercely. If he had been standing straight and not moving, it would have been a gaze that would have chilled her spine, but now it had no sense of intimidation. His swaying posture was just like a common street thug.

“I said put the sword away and let’s go?”

When Yimae spoke sternly, Heukryong sheathed the sword. But he didn’t take his eyes off Yimae.

“Where are you going?”

Hearing Heukryong’s question, Yimae made up something as best she could.

“To sleep, to sleep. The sun has set, so it’s time to sleep.”

“Good.”

For some reason, he seemed delighted. His face brightened slightly as he put the sword in its scabbard. The black scabbard disappeared from that spot with a whoosh. Just as Yimae was about to breathe a sigh of relief, her body suddenly lifted into the air. Heukryong, holding her in one arm, passed by the prostrate Head Guard and said,

“Lower the red gold curtain in the Training Hall.”

The Head Guard, forgetting that he was begging for forgiveness, raised his head. His gaping mouth showed how aghast he was. He remained prostrate, only changing his direction to bow to Heukryong. His voice, as he incredulously repeated the question, stammered like an idiot.

“The red, gold, curtain, you say?”

Yimae, who was dangling from his arm, tilted her head and looked up at Heukryong. Unlike the Head Guard, who was as shocked as if heaven and earth had split, Heukryong’s face was calm.

Why the red gold curtain? Is the Training Hall too small to sleep in?

Heukryong didn’t say it twice. The Head Guard got up, bowed, and hurriedly ran towards the Dragon Lord’s Hall. The ground rumbled as he ran.

“Are you going to sleep in the Training Hall? Why bother when you have a sleeping chamber?”

“It’s far.”

“There are other halls right after you pass the Dragon Lord’s Hall, though?”

“Those are far too.”

What did it matter where he slept in his own palace? Yimae decided not to try to persuade him any further. It was true that the Training Hall was small, but she, who was sleeping crammed into a pigeon coop, had no right to say anything.

Heukryong, who had entered the Training Hall, placed Yimae by the window. The medicine pot, which had been bubbling and emitting a grassy smell, was empty. Perhaps because of that, the inside of the Training Hall was chilly without warmth, and Yimae shivered slightly. As she was about to close the window, she took in the vast lotus pond again.

“You truly resemble the Heukryong deity I saw.”

Like a peony, like a herbaceous peony. She was a dignified woman who was large, abundant, and well-matched with flowers that were the epitome of beauty. But she had been missing a certain aloofness and nobility that could not be fully expressed by such flowers. Looking at this magnificent lotus, she felt that emptiness being filled. Hee-tae was truly a dignified lotus, the countenance of a monarch reigning above all people.

“How much she must have…”

Is that why he built the Training Hall, because he missed her so much? Whenever he missed his mother and wanted to see her, did he climb up to the hall and embrace the lotus?

Yimae sometimes missed her father in Oreum Hall. She would endlessly gaze at the side where he was buried, and repeatedly savor memories of her childhood until the morning star rose and the day dawned. She clearly understood the lonely heart of living without parents in the world. As she turned her gaze to offer even a small word of comfort, Yimae discovered Heukryong’s hand slowly approaching.

“Look at me.”

Heukryong cupped Yimae’s neck and cheek with one hand. His face, as he grabbed the window frame with his other hand and leaned down, was somehow sorrowful.

“I am the Heukryong deity.”

The long fingers that had been pressing on her neck moved to Yimae’s ear. He gently caressed the golden ornament, then touched her ear with utmost care. The sound of metal clashing against metal was faintly heard from the ornament.

“Look at me.”

Heukryong’s breath was right in front of her nose. Her neck became stiffer than when the Head Guard had held the blade to her. Yimae, with her shoulders and neck hunched up, frantically tried to gauge whether this behavior was due to his drunkenness, or whether he was doing it because his drunkenness had worn off.

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