IBTYDOTCID – Chapter 79

Around sunset, I headed alone toward the servants’ quarters.

Last time I was here, Sahyeon had been alone. This time, the kid who shared the room with him was inside. The boy jumped up like his ass was on fire when he saw me.

“Ah, my lady! You—how did you… I mean, do you need something?”

“Just here to check on something. Sorry, but could you step out for a minute?”

“Huh? Oh—yes, of course!”

He bowed fast and hurried out. The door shut, leaving a silence that pressed in.

Sahyeon’s shabby little bed was all cleaned up. I walked over and sat down on it. Ran a hand across the blanket—felt rough as hell. My tongue clicked on its own.

“Seriously? Guy used to be some rich kid and still slept on crap like this?”

I guess he got used to it. That was all in the past, after all. Still, it bothered me more than it should’ve.

This wasn’t why I came, though. I forced myself up again, slow and stiff.

Servants didn’t own much, so there wasn’t a lot of space to store things. Each person got a tiny cabinet—two compartments, tops. I grabbed the little round iron handle. It groaned like it was about to break.

“…Hah.”

There was barely anything inside. So empty it was laughable. A dull pocketknife that couldn’t pierce a radish, a few worn-out pieces of clothing, some used bandages, and… a jar of ointment.

The one I’d stolen from the Medicine King’s Hall. I opened the lid. Hardly used. He’d just kept it sitting there.

Kinda pathetic for someone who supposedly came from money.

“Told you to just use it already.”

I muttered and closed the drawer.

Honestly, even if Sahyeon had hidden something, it wouldn’t be here. Anyone could walk in and rummage around. And he didn’t even have the room to himself.

I checked behind the cabinet, under the bed. Still nothing. But there were just enough signs of life that it made my chest twist.

…He hadn’t planned to die.

I didn’t really agree when I first heard it, but Sahyeon said I made him laugh. Said that once he got his revenge, the emptiness faded.

Someone like that wouldn’t have chosen to die like that. Not on purpose.

But if that’s true… then Sahyeon really did die for me. To protect me. The thought made my stomach turn.

I slammed the drawer shut and bolted out of the room. The kid waiting outside jumped and fell right on his ass when I appeared.

“…I’m done here.”

I said it low, and walked off fast. Swore I’d never come back to this place. No reason to.

‘My lady.’

I ignored the sound—who knew if it was tinnitus or a ghost. I couldn’t go back to my room. Someone would be there. Hyangah or someone else.

Which meant there was only one place I could go. Pathetic.

I stumbled through a narrow side path until I reached the secret spot. The wide field stretched out, empty and bare, with fiery evening light spilling across it. I sat down hard in the same shady spot where Sahyeon always sat, wiping sweat from my neck.

Let out a long breath.

I don’t know. I still couldn’t believe he was dead. That’s probably why I hadn’t cried. Still in shock.

Maybe he just left. Dropped the gift I gave him and walked off. He would. He’s the type. I wanted to believe that.

Out in the middle of the field, the patch where I always trained had less grass. Beaten down before it could grow, probably. Everywhere else, the blades were tall and sharp enough to cut.

“It’s summer already.”

Maybe once we went on that trip the family suggested, I could stop thinking about Sahyeon so much. People move on, right? Eventually, I’d remember him as just some strange guy who passed through my life.

That’s what I told myself, fumbling toward a future that still didn’t feel real.

Then it hit me, like lightning.

That day the family asked about the trip—I changed my mind.

What if I hadn’t?

What if I hadn’t hesitated and instead turned my back on them and gone to Sichuan?

What if I never showed up at Hwaan Tea House?

Sahyeon would’ve been upset, sure. But he wouldn’t have died.

My heart dropped like a stone. Slow, heavy. A thousand what ifs flooded in all at once.

What if I’d kept my distance?

What if I hadn’t fallen for Moyong Sohae’s pathetic scheme—and ended up weak and useless?

What if I’d admitted I was weak, and didn’t get cocky about helping Proprietor Chae?

What if I’d just dodged before Sahyeon got hurt?

So many turning points. So many moments I could’ve changed, and maybe saved him.

Hell, I even turned back my own death. Yeah, it was with someone else’s body, but still. I came back.

So why couldn’t Sahyeon?

If I could undo just one decision… maybe he’d still be alive.

“…Give him back.”

My throat felt crushed.

Who the fuck gave you the right to save me? Why did you die in my place?

Why—

“Give him back! Give Sahyeon back!”

Why am I always a step too late?

It’s always been like this. I’ll dive in when I shouldn’t—and then freeze when I need to act.

“I was stupid, okay?! Bring him back! You can do that, right?! Like you did for me!”

I screamed until my voice tore. And strangely, finally—my eyes burned. The tears came. Clouded my vision.

I curled up and sobbed into the grass.

The evening dew mixed with the tears, soaking my cheeks. Everything in my mind came crashing down, too late.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry… I—I cared about you too…”

I cried out the words I never got to say. And without Sahyeon there to comfort me, the crying lasted even longer.

I dragged myself back to my quarters late that night. Rubbed at my puffy eyes and flung the window open. I stared out for a long time.

No one came.

Only after Yeonhwa blew out the light did Iheon finally turn away. Dawn was nearly here. He’d heard her sobbing at the window for hours.

While she wept into the grass, Iheon had flinched over and over. Should he go out there? Offer her a shoulder? Or just let her cry?

But none of it would really help her.

I’m more useless than I thought.

He’d always believed he could do anything for her. But the one thing she begged for—the man she screamed for—he couldn’t bring him back.

He couldn’t take away her guilt, or her grief. Even if he cried in her place, it wouldn’t fix her heart.

So many things in this world were beyond what he could do.

If he’d saved her… maybe she wouldn’t be in this pain now.

Iheon clenched his fists. He felt sorry. So damn sorry for her.

He’d lost his mother. Only held it together because he had his sister. But grief never comes in one size. His sister had her pain. He had his.

That’s why he couldn’t jump in and try to comfort Yeonhwa. Grief, in the end, has to be poured out and shaken off, bit by bit.

But still… I wish you’d know. Yeonhwa.

Just like he still had Dang Choye—

She still had people. She had him.

Iheon turned back toward his quarters, holding onto all the words he hadn’t said.

By the time he returned, Dang Ri was there, waiting with a troubled face. The worry was obvious. Iheon sighed. He knew exactly why.

“Dang Ri.”

“Brother. I understand how you feel, but… you need to head back to Sichuan. We’re scheduled to leave in the morning—”

“I’m not going.”

“What?!”

Iheon looked up at the sky. The moon was bright.

“Find a small house nearby. Something I can rent. It doesn’t have to be big—just enough for me and my sister.”

“Brother. The Clan Head won’t take this lightly. Please, return to Sichuan first. Handle the fallout, then come back.”

“I don’t need many servants. Just bring a few sharp ones who know how to keep quiet.”

Dang Ri was speechless for a while. Didn’t even know how to respond. The man was completely unreasonable—how the hell was he supposed to talk him down?

Iheon had always been upright, especially for someone so young. He followed the Clan Head’s orders to the letter. Even if he resented his father deep down, he’d never disobeyed.

So was this rebellion now? After all this time?

Dang Ri honestly couldn’t tell if he was supposed to stop his cousin—or help him.

Iheon looked at his silence and let out a long sigh.

“I’ll speak to the Clan Head myself. Don’t worry. You won’t get dragged into this.”

“That’s not the problem, and you know it!”

“If it’s really bothering you, then go ahead. Take the others and return to Sichuan. I’ll stay with my sister a little longer. I can’t leave right now.”

Dang Ri bit the inside of his cheek and asked,

“Does Young Lady Yeonhwa… want you to stay?”

“…No.”

“Then maybe your presence is just another burden to her.”

Iheon went quiet. The words hit deep. Maybe because they weren’t wrong.

But he didn’t waver. He never had.

Just like when he swore he’d become Clan Head—for his sister’s freedom—and never took a step back.

“Right now, Yeonhwa needs someone. Anyone.”

“…”

“And I want that someone to be me.”

That same dawn, after Dang Ri left, Iheon picked up a brush. Time to write a letter to Sichuan.

Father, I hope this finds you well.

You’ve likely heard from Dang Ri that the situation here has been resolved. Per schedule, I should be departing from Liaoning at sunrise. However, I’ve had a change of heart, and I write to inform you of that decision.

You weren’t there for Mother. Not when she was happiest, not when she was in pain, not even in her final moments—when she was likely most afraid.

I may carry your blood, but I will not inherit your mistakes.

Someone I care deeply for is hurting—body and heart. I want to stay beside her until she recovers. Once she’s well, I’ll return to Sichuan.

I hope this won’t take long. Truly.

This isn’t the Young Master of the Dang Clan speaking. This is just your son, Dang Iheon, asking for your understanding.

My sister, too, cares for Yeonhwa deeply. She’ll stay here in Liaoning with us, to keep Yeonhwa company.

Please take care of yourself.

It would be the first—and the last—letter he ever sent addressed to “Father.”

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