Chapter 18
“Those who commit crimes must naturally be punished.”
Choi Eum-eup’s hopes collapsed in an instant. The fragile chance of saving his son flickered out like a candle in the wind.
“My lord! Please spare him just this once. Please help me!”
Choi Eum-eup repeatedly slammed his forehead against the floor as he pleaded.
“This puts me in a difficult position. Out of our past acquaintance, I granted you this audience—but do not make things harder for me. As you know, a murder case is for His Majesty to decide.”
He was the Left State Councillor, a man said to command even the fall of birds in flight. Anyone who served the state knew he wielded influence over the King.
That was why everyone bowed to him and offered money—yet this was his response?
Fury rose within Choi Eum-eup, his cheeks trembling.
“My lord, please…”
“Is no one outside?”
Jo Jajeom cut him off sharply and issued a blatant dismissal.
“Escort our guest out. I won’t see him off.”
Choi Eum-eup shook his head.
If he left now, it was over.
Choi Giman would die, and he himself would be dragged to the Ministry of Justice and punished.
His fortune had already been drained by compensation payments, and whatever remained would be taken. His family would be ruined.
“My lord, please, just once—please, my lord!”
When he refused to leave, two strong men entered the reception hall.
Jo Jajeom’s personal guards seized Choi Eum-eup and dragged him out.
His desperate cries echoed, but no one paid them any heed.
To Jo Jajeom, the struggle of a man trying to survive was nothing more than the irritating buzz of a fly.
Choi Eum-eup’s voice gradually faded—until it disappeared entirely.
Jo Jajeom clicked his tongue and rang a bell.
A man in a blue robe entered and knelt.
Mirim—a man whose name meant “beautiful forest”—was known as the Left State Councillor’s hound.
“You called for me, my lord?”
“Find out how the son of the Choi household ended up being transferred to the Ministry of Justice.”
“Do you intend to save him?”
“What do you think? Is he worth saving?”
Jo Jajeom stared at Mirim.
It was a test.
For years, Mirim had served him like a tongue within his mouth, bringing immense profit—yet Jo Jajeom still occasionally probed his loyalty.
Was that sharp mind used solely for him?
“Forgive me, but in my opinion, he is not worth saving. A man who cannot even control his own household would hardly handle matters outside it well.”
“That is correct. Then what should be done with him?”
Choi Eum-eup had only brought small sums a few times, sharing little more than a cup of tea—yet he believed he had a meaningful relationship with Jo Jajeom.
He was a fool who knew neither his place, his worth, nor his future.
‘Ignorance sometimes breeds boldness.’
Jo Jajeom wanted no uncertainty left behind.
“I will make him understand.”
Satisfied with the answer, Jo Jajeom picked up his brush again.
“Investigate thoroughly, as I instructed. There must be no mistakes in anything. You may go.”
With steady hands, he continued completing his ink orchid painting.
02. The Child Bride
In the dim bridal chamber lit by a single candle,
the flickering flame made the pine and bamboo painted on the folding screen seem to sway, while turtles, cranes, and deer appeared to dance.
Before it, on a luxurious mandarin duck-patterned bedding, sat a ten-year-old bride.
With her chubby cheeks and large eyes, she was far too small and young to be called a bride.
Her expensive wedding robe was so large it might as well have been called a blanket.
She wore it like a sack draped over her body, sobbing.
“Hic… sniff… hic…”
Unlike the noisy celebration outside blessing the union, the bridal chamber was filled only with her crying.
“Eunyeong, leave everything to your husband. Don’t cry. Understand? Only if you do well will your father live.”
What was she supposed to leave to him?
She tried to hold back her tears, remembering her father’s words—but it wasn’t easy.
Eunyeong wanted only one thing.
She wanted to take off this heavy robe and go home.
She wanted to bury her face in her mother’s chest, faintly scented with sweat from selling taffy at the market, and fall asleep.
Everyone had said she was marrying into a rich family, that her fortune had blossomed.
But Eunyeong had only wanted a pretty ribbon—never a silver hairpin.
Tears streamed endlessly.
“Stop crying!”
It felt like her father’s voice rang in her ears.
Eunyeong quickly pulled her small hands out from the red robe and wiped her tears, even though he wasn’t there.
Her tiny pale face became smeared as her makeup ran.
“I miss Mom.”
The words her father had forbidden slipped out.
“I want to go home…”
The ten-year-old bride sobbed, hiccupping.
After crying for a long time, the noise outside gradually died down.
The groom must be coming now.
Eunyeong inhaled sharply and glanced toward the door. Her eyes held not anticipation—but fear.
After several deep breaths—
Creak. The door opened. A gust of cold air rushed in, shaking the candle violently.
Startled, she swallowed her sob.
The groom had arrived.
She stared up at him, barely breathing.
‘He has three legs…’
Two legs—and a cane.
Thump, thump—the bent old man entered, leaning on his cane.
Tears forced their way out again.
His wrinkled face, yellow teeth, and dark age spots reminded her of her late grandfather.
‘That man… is my husband?’
It was terrifying.
Even as a child, she knew a marriage between a seventy-year-old man and a ten-year-old girl was not right.
“Mom… Mom…”
“Oh dear, child, why are you crying?”
The old man set aside his cane and gently touched her cheek with dry hands.
“Mom… I miss her… please… send me home…”
He looked at her with pity.
“This is your home now. Is your headpiece uncomfortable? I’ll take it off for you.”
“Ahhh!”
Terrified, Eunyeong sprang up and tried to run.
The old man reached out to grab her, but his movements were too slow.
However, Eunyeong stumbled and fell before reaching the door—the long robe tangled her feet.
The old man dragged himself closer.
She lay on the ground, sobbing helplessly.
“Does it hurt? Let me see. Where are you hurt? Your husband will blow on it to make it better.”
His phlegm-filled breathing grew closer.
Eunyeong kicked and struggled.
“No, no! Mom! Mom!”
Frowning in annoyance, the old man grabbed her small foot.
At that moment—
“No, sir! Not our Eunyeong!”
Her mother burst into the room.
Morning sunlight poured into the room where a meal had been set.
Fresh rice, clear beef radish soup, and several neat side dishes filled the table as the Ahn family gathered.
Chief Inspector Ahn Jung-ho, his son Ahn Chang-geun, and Hari—now active in Hanyang as a private litigator.
Though all were busy, they made it a point to share breakfast once a week.
It was Ahn Jung-ho’s way of caring for his grown children.
Their mealtime differed from typical Joseon customs.
In noble families, men and women usually ate separately—but Ahn Jung-ho always ate at the same table as Hari.
He carefully placed a piece of deboned fish on Hari’s rice.
“Father, please eat. I’m fine.”
“I’m fine as well.”
Having her father pick fish for her—even as an adult—made her nose tingle.
Not to be outdone, her brother quietly moved a dish of braised radish she liked closer to her.
Before she knew it, all the side dishes had gathered in front of her.
They must have moved them little by little while she was eating.
The sight of one side of the table completely empty made her burst out laughing.
