GMLS Ch 41

At night, the Ammukdan, who had been cautiously watching during the day, came rushing in. They dropped down from the ceiling, one by one, making my own heart drop with them.

“Please, make some sound when you move.”

“What good is an Ammukdan if he makes a sound?”

He was so right that I had nothing to say back. The already small room was now packed with men in black. The sight of them huddled together, bottoms squeezed onto the floor, was quite a spectacle.

Still, I couldn’t just kick out the guys who came because they were worried, so I sighed and told them to have some sweets and tea since they were here. But then, these rascals slyly pulled out medicinal liquor and began to glance at me. I let out another deep sigh.

“……Is anyone there?”

“Yes, Young Master. Dongbok is here.”

“Go to the kitchen and bring a table of drinks and snacks. And bring plenty of side dishes.”

“I’ll be right back with it.”

The hint of laughter in his voice suggested he had more than guessed the situation inside the room. After all, with about ten shadows cast on the paper door, it would be stranger not to know.

The Ammukdan all chimed in, saying I was the best Young Master. I wasn’t happy at all. They were a truly troublesome bunch.

Heukwol had been a special case, but that didn’t mean my relationship with the Ammukdan was awkward. In fact, if anything, we were on the closer side. When I was a child, they stood guard outside my room every night. As if anyone would harm a scrawny kid. When I muttered as much, they prostrated themselves with the utmost seriousness and said,

‘You are no longer a commoner’s child. From the moment you held Shangshuling’s hand and crossed that gate, you too became one whom we must serve.’

To my young mind, it was more frightening than touching. The sudden sight of huge men bowing deeply, and the feeling of being saddled with an unbearable burden. I immediately pulled the blanket over my head and turned away. The bewildered Ammukdan called out to me anxiously, “Young Master, Young Master,” but I didn’t look out. That was already five years ago.

“Young Master, what are you thinking about so deeply?”

“Just… that you all are so consistent.”

I looked around at the faces of the men who were grinning as they opened the liquor bottles. Whether they were still wearing their masks or had already taken them off, blinded by the drink, they were all familiar faces.

These were the ones who didn’t know I had been given a date for my death. That was why they were chattering boisterously, spouting nonsense about how liquor tastes best on a summer night. I hoped that they, like everyone else, would never find out until the very end.

Dongbok brought in the snacks, and my room turned into a drinking party.

The next day, half of the Ammukdan, including myself, were hungover. I groaned and called for the physician.

The family physician, misinterpreting my summons, came running while crying out for the Young Master. When he found out it was just a hangover, he slapped me lightly on the back, telling me I shouldn’t scare an old man like that.

Afterward, Dongbok, saying that honey water is the best for a hangover, brought it in a whole jar.

Heoooogh. Uggghh.

The men in black, letting out coarse groans, crawled halfway toward me. When I nudged the jar toward them, telling them to drink, they grabbed onto it, arguing over who should go first.

Just then, having heard that I had called for the physician, Yeo Yullyeong arrived. His cold gaze swept over the Ammukdan occupying the room. The Ammukdan, who had been clinging to the honey water jar like long-horned beetles drawn to pine resin, froze solid.

“Well. It seems you’ve been living comfortably lately.”

The sight of Yeo Yullyeong smiling crookedly was that of King Yama from the underworld himself.

⊹ ࣪ 💮⊹₊

Four dream-like days passed. On the morning of the fifth day, as soon as the dawn twilight faded, a messenger arrived bearing an imperial edict. I respectfully prostrated myself and once again accepted the position of Captain of the Guard.

On my way out of the estate, dressed in my official robes, Yeo Yullyeong stopped me and wrote on my palm.

—I will make preparations and set a date for your departure.

Clutching the words left on my hand, I returned to Muryun’s side. He said nothing other than, “Welcome back.” But it was obvious from his expression that he was in a good mood.

The Captain of the Imperial Guard was still Wi Suhyeok. When I asked why, he, with a grim face, glanced at Muryun and then begged me to please find a time to persuade his older brother. He said that for some reason, he was only training at the estate and had no thoughts of returning to his post.

Why is he asking me this? Shouldn’t he be asking Muryun? I replied hesitantly.

“His Highness must have his reasons for doing so.”

Wi Suhyeok’s shoulders slumped. He returned to his post with a face that had lost all dreams and hope.

Muryun worked all day. Except when he was eating, he was constantly holding a brush. It was a stark contrast to his time at the North Palace, where he had idled away his days doing nothing.

“Dammit. I expected this, but there are more than one or two things that need to be sorted out. The Ministry of War, in particular, is a disaster.”

This didn’t mean the Ministry of War was corrupt. Thanks to the 5th Prince’s influence, it had been maintained as the most upright of the six ministries, but paradoxically, that was why it had fallen out of the Emperor’s favor.

Furthermore, the last decade had been a period of dramatic growth in the Jihan Kingdom’s national power. The king of the Jihan Kingdom had been particularly dedicated to increasing its military strength. News of new units being established, new military strategies and tactics being introduced, and the number of private soldiers being increased had reached even my ears.

In a situation like this, they should have been strengthening their military power above all else. But the late emperor, obsessed with his own power, had neglected the Ministry of War.

“An incompetent king is worse than a tyrant.”

Muryun clicked his tongue and sighed as if he had a headache. Still, I wasn’t worried. This was a difficult task, but not an impossible one for my lord.

“We’ll have to solve it one major stem at a time.”

Above all, Muryun was a wise ruler. He also had over a decade of experience rolling up his sleeves in various fields while cleaning up after the late emperor.

And sure enough, not long after ascending to the throne, the Ministry of Justice and the Ministry of Rites were already somewhat organized. When Yeo Yullyeong, the Shangshuling, was added to the mix, the shaken system was set right.

Yeo Yullyeong spread his wings as if he had been waiting. The officials now realized, seeing him in action, that the Yeo Yullyeong of the late emperor’s era had been nothing more than an idler who fanned himself with a folding fan.

He resolved the major and minor affairs of the Imperial Palace with a single brush. He effortlessly presented solutions for issues that seemed to have no answer and for account books where it was impossible to tell what was wrong. The saying that one could save a castle or two with a single word was a reference to Yeo Yullyeong himself.

In addition, Muryun also actively reflected Yeo Yullyeong’s opinions and appointed him to key roles. He was truly a godsend.

‘Ah, since he’s already the Shangshuling, maybe the word ‘appointed’ isn’t quite right.’

As I thought this, I watched Muryun and Yeo Yullyeong discussing the western border. Seeing them like this, the war of nerves in the underground prison felt like a complete lie.

“You must soon request envoys from each nation. In fact, it is already somewhat late.”

Since ancient times, the period immediately following a change in regime was when a country’s situation was most unstable. Yeo Yullyeong said that while strengthening internal affairs, it was also necessary to show that they were still strong. For this, he proposed the “event” that was customary upon a new emperor’s enthronement.

In the Geum Empire, when the crown prince ascended the throne, it was customary to summon envoys from various nations to announce the new emperor. The envoys were designated as royalty or people of equivalent status. They would offer tribute to the new emperor to congratulate his ascension, and the emperor, in return, would host a banquet. This was the core of the event.

“Since you held an abbreviated coronation ceremony, this event must be held on a grand scale.”

Muryun nodded his head in agreement.

⊹ ࣪ 💮⊹₊

After dispatching the envoys to request their presence, time passed idly. The season turned to full summer, and I experienced two more episodes of coughing up blood.

The state affairs gradually began to stabilize. Those in the Imperial Palace slowly became accustomed to Muryun’s reign. There were no petitions regarding an empress or imperial consort, something that would be expected for a single new emperor.

After the separation of the Jihan Kingdom and the five southern nations, the emperors of the Geum Empire had traditionally taken princesses from other countries as their empresses and consorts. The daughters of high-ranking officials, no matter how great their family’s influence, were always brought in as concubines.

This sometimes changed when the Geum Empire was powerful, but that was not the case in the current era. Also, according to the etiquette of the Geum Empire, concubines were only brought in after the empress or consort had entered the inner court.

In any case, it was a matter of time. It was a settled fact that someone would stand by Muryun’s side.

Yet, I find myself relieved that there is a grace period. While mocking myself, I sent a small prayer to Sangseon, hoping that he would please not place anyone by his side before the first snow.

Every day passed with the wish that it could just be like today, and now it was late July. The long summer sun was slowly setting.

Muryun, who had been sitting at his desk all day, stood up, tapping his shoulders. I followed him as he went out for a walk, and as we exited through the corridor and reached the entrance of the main palace, we ran into Yeo Yullyeong coming from the opposite direction.

“I see the great fortune of this na-”

“Enough.”

Muryun clicked his tongue, having run into a white snake as soon as he stepped out. Despite the emperor’s rudeness, Yeo Yullyeong didn’t seem particularly offended. Instead, he spoke with an air of deep regret.

“Half of the work Your Majesty should be doing comes to me, and yet it seems even that is too much for you. Seeing your haggard royal face, this old servant’s heart breaks.”

What he meant was, See, what would you have done if you had gotten angry and cut off my head? Muryun couldn’t say a word. Yeo Yullyeong bowed once more and quickly disappeared, leading two civil officials who were carrying scrolls piled up like mountains.

“……I’m sure he does more work than me. Is he truly a monster?”

Hut!

Muryun, muttering in a daze and glanced at me. It was as if he had just insulted a father in front of his son. I replied nonchalantly.

“It’s alright. I sometimes think the same thing as Your Majesty. To think that with that face, he’ll be turning fifty next year. Can you believe it?”

Muryun let out a small laugh. It was a smile that suggested he could bad-mouth Yeo Yullyeong at least ten more times.