Yeo Il, eyes still closed, recalled the impression left by the second son, who had greeted her in a gentle but unobtrusive tone.
‘Wasn’t he said to have the best reputation among the three brothers?’
Namgung Chumyeong, unlike his two brothers blessed with exceptional martial talent, was said to have been born with virtually none.
Because the Namgung Clan so highly valued martial prowess, he had reportedly grown up under the scorn of those around him.
But his virtuous character and strong brotherly bonds eventually led to his acceptance as a rightful heir within the clan.
Now, as the eldest son Namgung Jeokmyeong became the object of public ridicule, Namgung Chumyeong stood as the only source of respectable sunlight in a clan cornered like a rat.
Silently rising, Yeo Il slowly bowed toward the direction of his voice.
“I’ve heard how busy you are, Lord Chumyeong. I’m already grateful that you remembered me and came at all.”
“Haha. How grown-up of you, Soyou. But your tone is so formal, you sound like a stranger… Why not relax a little?”
“I’m embarrassed, but I’ll try.”
After Chang-a served tea and left, Namgung Chumyeong seated himself and gently asked.
“I heard Lord Jeokmyeong summoned you to Giyeonru yesterday. Was it uncomfortable?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm. That may have been a poor question. I suppose from your standpoint, it couldn’t not be uncomfortable.”
“I’m all right.”
With a small smile and a shake of the head, a long sigh came from across the table.
“I truly don’t know what’s going through my brother’s mind… I was quite shocked to hear he called you to such a place when you haven’t even recovered. What did you two talk about?”
“Well…”
When Yeo Il hesitated to answer, Namgung Chumyeong gave a wry chuckle.
“Is it difficult to say? Then that’s fine. No need to force it. I only asked out of concern.”
Yeo Il simply bowed her head without further response.
‘He didn’t come because of the rumors about me, he came because of Namgung Jeokmyeong.’
The deep concern he bore for his misguided brother took precedence even over the strange rumors surrounding Soyou.
Clearly, Namgung Jeokmyeong once shielded Chumyeong from ridicule in the public eye and that shade was wide indeed.
“Is it hard for you to deal with Jeokmyeong? Have you heard what people say about him?”
As Yeo Il lowered her head further, as if digging into the floor, Chumyeong sighed again and took a sip of tea.
“There’s no point pretending not to know. I’m sure it’s already spreading within the clan. But… Soyou, my brother isn’t some disgraceful fool. His burden is just heavy. After Father’s condition worsened, he changed drastically. He always followed Father closely, you see.”
“I see.”
When Yeo Il responded with a soft cough, perhaps sensing the mood was too heavy, Namgung Chumyeong quickly changed the subject.
“I heard you spoke a few times with the youngest, Huimyeong?”
That confirmed it.
Namgung Chumyeong was a man with sharp eyes and ears.
‘The fact that he said “a few times” means… he has people watching Huimyeong’s quarters too.’
For all the brotherly love, it wasn’t blind trust. But with someone like Namgung Huimyeong, that was understandable.
“Yes, he kindly visited a few times to chat.”
“What? Huimyeong did? Are you serious?”
Startled by her response, Chumyeong even smacked the table as he burst into hearty laughter.
“Haha! That’s incredible! He’s not one to open up to strangers easily. Maybe blood does speak after all?”
“Calling it blood is too generous.”
“Generous, nonsense! Huimyeong might be rough, but he used to be such a calm boy just a few years ago. When our older brother started going astray, the youngest followed suit. He has a kind heart, but his actions…”
Chumyeong’s voice trailed off into a third sigh.
“I keep bringing up these matters. I’m ashamed to have brought you into such a disorderly household… I can hardly lift my—cough, cough.”
The dry cough that began lightly continued for quite a while.
“Sorry, cough… I’ve had so much work lately and haven’t slept enough, and my body’s…”
“Please don’t say that. Chang-a?”
Yeo Il quickly called for Chang-a, who came running.
“Bring some warm licorice tea, please.”
“Yes, right away!”
While she left, Namgung Chumyeong stood and approached the window, clearing his throat.
Noticing his movement, Yeo Il opened her eyes slightly and studied his back.
Originally, she meant to memorize his appearance briefly but unexpectedly, her gaze lingered on him for quite some time.
Until the moment he turned to return.
“I’m feeling better now.”
As he sat back down, Yeo Il had already closed her eyes again, giving no reaction.
‘That mark earlier… I didn’t imagine it.’
The faint mark she glimpsed on the back of Chumyeong’s neck.
That mark was unmistakably…
“Soyou? Don’t tell me you’ve fallen asleep already?”
She needed time to sort through what she’d seen—just a moment.
“…No. I was just thinking.”
“Thinking? What’s troubling you? Tell your brother.”
“Yesterday… about what happened at Giyeonru.”
Chumyeong grew silent, listening intently.
“Lord Jeokmyeong suspected me of being a Salmak assassin wearing Namgung Soyou’s skin.”
“…An assassin?”
“Yes. Specifically, he mentioned Salmak by name.”
When she went on to explain how she proved herself innocent, Chumyeong’s voice cracked in disbelief.
“What nonsense!”
He stood abruptly, laughing dryly in disbelief.
“Truly… truly, I’m sorry, Soyou. I don’t know how I can face you. Haa… what could Brother have been thinking…”
“It’s all right. I was startled, of course.”
Yeo Il coughed softly and continued with a neutral tone.
“Still… I could sense how deeply Lord Jeokmyeong cares for the clan’s safety. Perhaps the rumors calling him a debauched fool were wrong.”
Then, feigning innocence, she casually added.
“He said Father’s health is terribly poor due to an old Salmak attack. Given my circumstances, I suppose suspicion was inevitable. I was just surprised… That the man once known as Sword King…”
The Sword King, Namgung Je.
Yeo Il was well aware of that name.
He had earned the title Sword King after rising to fame during the Great War between the orthodox and demonic sects 18 years ago.
His reputation remained high even to this day.
“Father…”
Namgung Chumyeong seemed about to speak more, but closed his mouth again.
“His condition is indeed very poor. I understand my brother’s concern… but I still want to apologize. I’m truly sorry you had to go through that, Soyou.”
Still unwilling to explain further, then. Yeo Il shook her head with a calm smile.
“No, really, I’m fine. Lord Jeokmyeong promised to look into my mother’s whereabouts in exchange for questioning me. That’s enough.”
“Your mother? Ah, right. You were separated at a young age. Of course you’d be curious.”
“Naturally…”
“Don’t worry, Soyou. I’ll look into it myself as well. It may take time, but it’s not impossible.”
“Really? I can’t thank you enough, Lord Chumyeong. Thank you, truly!”
As she bowed repeatedly, moved to tears, Chumyeong gently raised her up.
“I’ll take my leave for now. I’ll visit again soon, so take care of yourself, So-yo. If anything happens, come to me. Remember that, all right?”
After Namgung Chumyeong left the room—
“Seol Yeong.”
Yeo Il called quietly.
“Yes?”
Then warned him.
“Of all the brothers, stay away from Namgung Chumyeong. Tell Chang-a as well.”
“Namgung Chumyeong? The second son? He seemed like the most reasonable of the three. Is there a problem?”
A problem? More than one.
Yeo Il recalled the faint trace left on the back of his neck, so subtle it would’ve gone unnoticed without trained eyes and experience.
A scar where skin had once been peeled.
“He’s wearing someone else’s face.”
“…What?”
“Not a metaphor. Literally someone else’s skin. He’s a fake. Judging by how naturally he acts… the real Namgung Chumyeong must’ve died some time ago.”
Ugh.. That’s scary