RMTR 09

Chapter 9

“Yoo-eun, why is the scholar acting like that?”

“Senior, you know you’ve asked that same question ten times now, right?”

“That’s because you won’t tell me anything. And the scholar’s been like that for hours.”

Instead of answering, Yoo-eun closed her eyes. As Ha-kyung made a move to leave the office, Yoo-eun warned her in a low, subdued voice.

“Don’t ask the scholar either. Not unless you want to break Geumseongdang’s rules.”

“Tch.”

Ha-kyung pouted but didn’t deny it.

“So, I’m heading home?”

“Yes, go ahead.”

Though clearly worried, Ha-kyung glanced at Yoo-eun several times, but Yoo-eun had no energy to spare for her colleague.

Only after all signs of people had disappeared did she let out a long sigh.

“Hoo…”

The events from earlier that day came rushing back, as if they had been waiting.

The man who had been so impeccably composed had completely crumbled. His eyes had turned red as he wept bitterly, then he looked at Danjong’s posthumous title again, as if unable to believe it.

After tracing the characters with his fingertips several times, Yu suddenly stood and headed toward the main hall. He went to where the spirit tablets of Taejo and Sejong were enshrined and bowed.

After paying his respects to the deceased, he returned to Yeongnyeongjeon and bowed toward King Munjong’s tablet.

But in front of Danjong’s tablet, instead of bowing, he reached out his hand. However, unable to even touch the red door, he stumbled backward, stepped away, and then stared blankly at the sky as if he didn’t know where to go.

Yoo-eun had grabbed the sleeve of Yu, who seemed to have lost his mind, and led him along. Yu had followed wherever she pulled him.

Too drained even to take off his shoes and step onto the wooden floor, he sat down on the veranda and gazed vacantly into space.

The manager and Ha-kyung had made a fuss when they saw his dirt-covered coat and the cuts on his hands, but Yoo-eun had chased them away with a single word: “Be quiet.”

Then she had fetched the first-aid kit from her room, disinfected his wounds, and applied medicine.

Throughout the entire process, Yu had not said a single word.

“You…”

Yoo-eun, who had tried to comfort him, hesitated.

What am I supposed to say?

‘Don’t worry about it, it’s all in the past’? Or ‘Nothing will change just because you’re sad’?

Since no option seemed right, Yoo-eun quietly left the back courtyard. The two men who had been waiting for her asked what had happened.

“Manager. You’re the one who told me to handle it as I saw fit. You can’t ask me if something big happened now.”

“Ahem!”

The manager suddenly remembered he had something to do and made himself scarce. Yoo-eun headed to the office. Later, Ha-kyung had been relentlessly nosy, but Yoo-eun just shook her head and said nothing.

“You cried so bitterly…”

The composed, neat smile had been replaced by utter despair.

One of the things Yoo-eun had wondered about while studying history was: How could people in the old days throw away their lives for honor and loyalty?

If it were her, she’d just toss all that aside and live well.

She didn’t think well of Sejo’s greed for the throne, but she understood why he had killed Danjong—given the political situation, if he hadn’t killed Danjong, he might have been killed himself.

But the weight carried by the man who had stood on the side of the king who had to be killed pressed down on her.

“It would have been better if you had known nothing…”

That would have been easier.

With a deep sigh, the night deepened.

“Yoo-eun, the scholar won’t respond at all. He won’t even come out of his room.”

The next morning, Ha-kyung came to work and called out a greeting toward Yu’s room, but only silence answered.

“Leave him alone.”

“How can I? He’s a guest at our Geumseongdang.”

“Then do you want to switch places with me?”

“Uh, what?”

When Yoo-eun suggested she stay at Geumseongdang, Ha-kyung’s eyes darted nervously.

“You said you were worried about the scholar. Why don’t you stay here at Geumseongdang and keep an eye on him?”

“Well, that’s…”

Drrrring—

“Oh, a phone call.”

As if she’d found a lifeline, Ha-kyung ran to the office.

“Just dump everything on me and not lift a finger to help? You’re a terrible person.”

Yoo-eun, whose language had gotten rougher in just two days, picked up a broom and started sweeping the front of Geumseongdang. Soon after, she went inside and began sweeping away the dust with a twig broom.

Geumseongdang is sacred.

The manager said that all the time.

The reason for cleaning every morning was to sweep away the bad air and energy that had accumulated overnight and maintain the sacredness.

Whether it was sacred or not wasn’t something she could feel with her skin, but it was true that being in a clean place made her feel better, so Yoo-eun liked tidying up around Geumseongdang every morning.

While pretending to sweep, she made her way to the back courtyard.

On the stone steps, shoes lay scattered messily. It didn’t suit the upright nature of the scholar, showing just how distracted he was.

Yoo-eun, who had been debating whether to call out to him, busily moved the hand holding the broom.

When someone suffered an unbearable shock, it was better to pretend not to notice.

At least, that was her experience. But after three days without any sign of Yu, she started to get worried.

“I’ll go in. You two stay here.”

The manager, who had remained silent about the scholar, stepped forward.

“Manager, I’ll go.”

“No, I’ll go in. You two get ready to call 119.”

Thinking of the worst-case scenario, he opened the sliding door with a serious expression.

Inside the room sat a man in perfect upright posture. Sitting as if painted, he had his eyes closed and didn’t move even at the sound of someone approaching.

“Sir Scholar?”

…”

“Guest, you haven’t eaten or drunk anything for three days now. If something happens to you, as the person in charge of Geumseongdang, it will be my fault.”

The manager kept talking, but Yu remained silent. Unable to watch any longer, Yoo-eun stepped in.

“Scholar.”

Slowly, Yu opened his eyes.

Seeing this, the manager quietly stepped back, left the room, and gestured to Ha-kyung, who was hovering nearby, to go away.

Glancing at the closed door, Yoo-eun sat down.

“Listen, Scholar. Are you like this because of what I told you?”

The man’s gaunt face looked pitiful.

“Don’t you think I might be lying? That everything about the fall of the Joseon Dynasty might not be true?”

“Are you saying you spoke falsely to me?”

Even though his tone wasn’t accusatory, Yoo-eun’s eyes dropped slightly. For some reason, standing before this scholar made her feel like she had to tell the truth.

“That’s not it, but…”

“Then you hoped I wouldn’t believe anything? So I wouldn’t be hurt?”

…”

“Thank you for your concern.”

It was a situation where he could have gotten angry, asking if she was mocking him. Instead, he expressed gratitude.

The pale scholar’s face spread into a smile, and it hurt to look at, so Yoo-eun kept avoiding his gaze.

“I wanted to believe it was all a lie too. I wanted to dismiss it as a strange tale, but isn’t the very fact that I’m in a different world strange enough?”

Yoo-eun nodded very slightly.

“And the buildings I visited yesterday, and the carefully explained records—they all seemed like they had been there for quite a long time.”

Meaning it wasn’t something hastily fabricated to deceive me, the man said with a bitter smile.

“Besides… you seemed like you didn’t want to tell me.”

…”

“You must have already realized who I was. That’s why you didn’t want to tell me.”

It was true that she hadn’t realized his identity, but it was also true she hadn’t wanted to tell him anything, so Yoo-eun remained silent.

“I should have realized your consideration sooner.”

Yu’s straight eyebrows trembled slightly.

“This place isn’t a different country. It’s a new country after late Joseon. Just like Goryeo came after Silla, and our Joseon was born on the land where Goryeo stood…”

As Yu stared blankly into space again, like a man who had lost his country, Yoo-eun hurriedly sat closer to him.

“The people of our country—of the Republic of Korea—consider all of those dynasties to be our country.”

“Our country?”

“Not as entirely separate countries, but we honor them as our ancestors. The blood of Joseon people flows in our bodies.”

Yu’s eyes widened.

“You saw it yourself. Gyeongbokgung Palace, Jongmyo Shrine—they’ve been preserved intact in their places.”

…”

“So Joseon hasn’t completely disappeared.”

Yoo-eun couldn’t read the emotion in the black eyes facing her.

“Of course, it’s very different from the time you lived in, but this place isn’t entirely unrelated.”

Even the usual sparkle had vanished from his pupils, sending a chill through her chest.

“So…”

Don’t act like you’ve lost everything, she wanted to say. I’d rather you pester me with questions, even if it’s annoying.

But somehow embarrassed, she opened and closed her mouth several times without finishing the sentence.

“Thank you