[CYM] 41 – Rising Tensions

[I thought I had evaded the wanted network for a while.]

            The proclamation was clearly a royal edict, stirring up people to sacrifice the descendants of Hong Unyeong.

            Even though Muritmaegol had been one of the few areas not under strict control due to being out of the royal family’s direct view, it now seemed that the king’s influence had even reached this remote rural village.

            [Report to the nearest office.]

            This was written beneath the announcement, alongside a substantial reward that would tempt the hunger of starving peasants. It was not only the peasants with their bellies stuck to their backs who would be enticed; even the impoverished nobles and merchants were dazzled by the amount.

            Could it be that one of the king’s messengers had visited Muritmaegol? She had neither heard such rumours from her neighbours nor seen any messengers. The thought that someone might have visited incognito was even more chilling. It would be a relief if it were just officials from the office, but if it were ‘those people’ sent directly by the king...

            Her throat felt scratchy. The same announcement was plastered on a distant wall, and Beodeul tore it off before anyone could see. No matter how many she removed, crumpled, and trampled, the line of characters seemed endless along the wall.

            ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✦ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

            Seeing the posters last night had been unsettling. Her mother returned home with an even more decayed expression, restless until she spilled all the washed rice, and nearly pricked her finger while sewing without a thimble.

            Several earthenware bowls broke, and after a night of restless sleep, both mother and daughter appeared with haggard faces as the day of departure approached, something else had stirred Beodeul’s nerves.

            ‘Why are there so many people?’

            The origin of the midday commotion was the village’s small medicine shop.

            “Old man, what’s all this about?”

            “It’s as if they fought with gadflies. It’s already the second day they’ve come swarming, itching for medicine.”

            Looking closer, she noticed red spots on the villagers’ forearms and cheeks.

            “Ah, wait a bit! Apply the medicine regularly, and you should recover. That’s why I told you to wash well.”

            “At first, it’s just itchy, but then I feel like vomiting and my head spins!”

            “If you don’t take the medicine the old man prepared...”

            “So why is this happening?”

            The eyes of the people sitting on the medicine shop’s mats flickered with anxiety.

            “Any other symptoms?”

            “None.”

            “Then it might be the heat. Let’s wait and see.”

            As Beodeul scrutinised the red spots that bloomed like toadstools on the people’s skin, she absently rubbed the back of her neck. The marks were quite similar to those she had received during a brawl with evil spirits.

            She needed confirmation, but the vanished spots couldn’t possibly reappear, which was also unsettling.

            “Let’s just wait after taking the medicine the old man gave.”

            The people bustled off.

            The streets were empty after the lantern festival, as if last night’s liveliness was all a dream, especially since no one was seen walking around after dusk. People feared the twilight and the evil spirits that might crawl out of the darkness.

            ‘They say the villages near the capital and the sea are in a state of war.’

            She lifted her gaze suddenly. Her destination, a majestic mansion with the sun stamped on its tiles, caught her eye.

            Despite people dying of hunger and plague, the Ki household remained prosperous and robust. The line of beggars and poor nobles at the gate never seemed to end, indicating an unfathomable wealth.

            They must be generous enough to sustain dozens of servants, slaves, and family members.

            However, it was strange for such a wealthy family to keep their roots in the countryside. Perhaps they had sinned in a past life and were now serving penance. Still, thanks to Master Ki, the people of Muritmaegol never went hungry, so he was indeed a benefactor.

            By the time she reached the benefactor’s home, thin clouds had spread across the sky, and a drizzle began to fall. As summer’s energy grew stronger, the weather became more erratic.

            Wearing her conical hat against her back, Beodeul crossed the imposing gate and walked across the wide courtyard to reach a garden lush with greenery. She had already heard from the steward that the young master was there.

            The garden, with its moisture-laden Beodeul branches and giant lotuses blooming like a painting, was a world apart from the desolate outdoors. Was there another paradise on earth? Stepping on the stone bridge that led to the pavilion, she marvelled. Could it be that the pond’s bottom was filled with sand made of gold instead of mud?