The sky was noticeably overcast on the day of their departure. While a small group of swift travelers with light burdens could journey from Hyangdo to Nahmgyo within a day, the Wian forces, numbering over fifteen hundred even after excluding those still recovering, along with their families, meant the journey was expected to take three days. Three-tenths of the workers and courtesans from Yeonyahng were to remain in Nahmgyo, and tearful farewells were exchanged between those departing and those staying behind.
After sending their belongings and family members ahead towards the south gate, the Myeonghyeon siblings took one last walk through Yeonyahng and the rear garden, meticulously checking for anything they might have missed. Seon accompanied Seolyo Jin, who was to take over Yeonyahng, pointing out every corner and giving detailed instructions. Jin, listening patiently as she followed, remarked, "You've been thorough, but it will be difficult to keep the inn running smoothly for a while. Both Yeonyahng and the new establishment in Hyangdo..."
"We're leaving people to train the new staff," Seon assured her. "Once the monsoon passes and the merchants return, things will pick up quickly. As long as you keep an eye on the Ministry, there shouldn't be any major problems."
Jin clicked her tongue. "Those scoundrels... They haven't changed their ways."
"Old habits die hard," Seon said with a shrug.
"The High Emissary doesn't seem like that kind of person," Jin observed.
Seon scoffed. "What good is a virtuous leader without any power?"
"Be careful on your journey," Jin said.
Seon smiled brightly. "I'll send you news. We'll make Hyangdo prosperous. Come visit and enjoy the fruits of our labor."
"You rascal..." Jin chuckled.
Seon saw Jin off, then made her rounds through the merchant quarters and the detached guesthouses. She found Ryang standing motionless before the garden gate. He stood before the open gate, yet he didn't move, his gaze fixed on the garden within. He turned at her approach and asked, "Weren't you supposed to leave with U'nso?"
"We're leaving now," Seon replied.
"I see." Ryang's gaze returned to the garden.
Seon sighed, her heart aching for her brother. When has he become so vulnerable and anxious? She moved closer and placed a comforting hand on his arm.
"Grandfather fled Sunyahng when he wasn't even thirty," she reminded him. "We can do this."
Ryang remained silent, unable to meet her eyes. Seon patted his arm gently.
"Go on," she said. "Take one last look. I'll go ahead."
With a brief farewell, she turned and left. Unlike his sister, who seemed unfazed by the prospect of leaving, Ryang couldn't shake off the feelings of regret and anxiety that clung to him as he prepared to leave the only home he had ever known.
Ryang stepped inside. The spacious courtyard, where his parents used to play with him, stretched out before him, filled with the echoes of childhood laughter. The willow tree by the pond rustled its abundant leaves in the wind. Ryang walked around the building, his fingers tracing the weathered wooden pillars, then entered the tea room. The shelves that once held countless books were bare, and the zither his father had taught him to play was gone, loaded onto a cart with the rest of their belongings.
He knew he shouldn't dwell on the past, that this was a place he was meant to leave behind, yet his gaze lingered on every corner of the house. He thought of Seong closing the gates of Wicheong Palace on the day of their departure. He had always considered Seong indecisive, but perhaps it was he, Ryang, who was truly hesitant.
The gardens were to be used by the Ministry, who were currently scattered throughout the guesthouses and houses in the city. Ryang felt a surge of contempt for those who had refused to set foot in such a "frivolous" place, criticizing House Myeonghyeon's resources, only to eagerly claim it for themselves the moment they left. Handing over the place his grandparents and parents had fought so hard to protect felt like a betrayal.
A creaking sound from behind made him turn. The unwelcome noise belonged to Cheongro. The sadness that had filled Ryang's eyes vanished, replaced by a cold fury. Cheongro's mere presence seemed to taint the memories that clung to this place, and his lingering gaze felt like a deliberate provocation. Ryang turned to leave, but Cheongro's voice stopped him.
"You've lived quite comfortably in this grand house," Cheongro remarked.
Ryang stopped and turned, his eyes fixed on Cheongro with icy intensity.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Cheongro sneered. "We both know you can't touch me, and I can't touch you."
"You know nothing of our history," Ryang retorted.
"And you know how I've lived?" Cheongro countered.
"I know how you're living," Ryang said.
Cheongro chuckled. "I know I'm a villain, but you seem to think you're a man of honor. Such a noble soul, gracing us with your presence—you were born with them, just like this house you've enjoyed."
Ryang's face hardened. Cheongro, fiddling with the prosthetic on his right arm, taunted him further.
"What's the matter?" he asked. "Heard you've been practicing. Want to show me your swordsmanship again?"
Ryang felt a surge of murderous intent again. I should have aimed for the neck instead of the wrist. His heart pounded with a dangerous rage, and he forced himself to turn away.
"Don't worry," Cheongro called after him. "We will take good care of those you leave behind. We wouldn't want them to be tainted by the sins of House Myeonghyeon."
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Kyeong'ui, surrounded by Wian soldiers, emerged from the guesthouse. Though all of Birahng was enemy territory, the thought of passing through Hyangdo's southern gate, adorned with the flag of Wi, filled her with rage. A crowd had gathered outside the outer gate, eager to witness the procession. Kyeong'ui's carriage was positioned at the rear of the procession. To prevent any unforeseen incidents, she had been transported from the government office in a plain, windowless carriage. As she walked towards it, she encountered Jin, who had come to see Seong off. Her eyes, cold as frost, pierced Kyeong'ui, but her lips curved into a polite smile.
"You've been through a lot," Jin remarked.
Kyeong'ui, momentarily stunned, managed a noble smile. "Thanks to your hospitality, I've been comfortable in this unfamiliar place. These past few days have been more comfortable than my nights in a tent back at the encampment. It's strange to feel regret at leaving, considering the pain I've endured in Nahmgyo."
"Perhaps we'll meet again soon," Jin said cryptically.
Kyeong'ui's smile widened. "Our reunion will have to be in the afterlife."
She stepped into the carriage, leaving Jin behind with her ambiguous farewell. The horse, spurred on, pulled the carriage through the outer gate with a brisk trot.
Ryang scanned the procession for Norahn. It was impossible to miss the tall figure in white robes, yet he was nowhere to be found. Ryang stopped an Emissary.
"The Guardian will be departing soon," he said. "Where is the High Emissary?"
"He's been at the south gate tower since morning," the Emissary replied with a bow.
Ryang followed his gaze and saw the fluttering white robes on the city walls. He made his way up to the tower. Norahn, sensing his approach, turned and gave a short nod. Ryang stood beside him, and Norahn's gaze returned to the horizon.
"The monsoon clouds are gathering," Norahn observed.
Indeed, dark clouds were rolling in from the southern sea, carried by a slow wind. The hot wind whipping the flags on the wall carried a damp scent. Ryang looked at the sky and felt relieved that they had chosen to travel by land.
"It must be raining in Soyeol already," Ryang remarked. "I trust the Third Emissary arrived safely."
"I'm sure she did," Norahn replied. "She'll return with the autumn winds."
His eyes, fixed on the horizon, were devoid of warmth, the blue light flickering unsteadily. Ryang offered a hollow consolation.
"She'll return safely. Don't worry too much. You seem to have deteriorated since arriving in Nahmgyo."
Norahn turned to Ryang and bowed his head slightly. "You should hurry on your way as well, High Councilor. Please take good care of the Guardian."
"I'll send word when we arrive," Ryang assured him. "The Guardian will be departing soon. Let's go down together."
Not long after Ryang and Norahn descended from the tower, Seong and Yeong arrived at the south gate on horseback, preceded by their standard-bearers. Ryang and Norahn stood at the head of the procession, bowing deeply to Seong with their hands clasped together. Norahn and the Emissaries who were to remain in Nahmgyo, along with Jin and her family, bowed towards Seong and Yeong. As Norahn bowed, he glanced at Yeong, whose expression was grim. Her lips were tightly pursed beneath her crimson robes. After the bows, Norahn applied holy water to Seong and Yeong's foreheads, wishing them a safe journey to Hyangdo.
With all preparations complete and the commanders mounted, Seong pulled his horse closer to Ryang and asked in a low voice, "Is Jang'gyeong Yoon going to Hyangdo as well?"
Seong's gaze fell upon Yoon, who stood nervously with his mother, Keumpyeong Yu.
"We can't leave him with the Ministry," Ryang replied.
Seong nodded in understanding and straightened in his saddle.
"Shall we depart?" Ryang asked.
Seong nodded, and Joon, who was riding behind them, instructed a soldier, "Sound the horn."
The soldier obeyed, and the deep bellow of the horn echoed through the air, signaling the start of the march. The procession was long, and it took considerable time for everyone, from the vanguard to the baggage carriers at the rear, to pass through the gate. The Wi forces exited through the south gate and then turned west, following the city walls. The people who had gathered outside the city bowed sporadically towards the procession. As they reached the west gate and turned towards Hyangdo, the road narrowed, and the trees on either side grew denser.
They hadn't traveled far when Yeong suddenly reined in her horse and looked up at the grey sky.
"What is it?" Seong asked.
"It's starting to rain," Yeong replied.
Seong followed her gaze. Tiny droplets were scattered across Yeong's forehead. A large raindrop fell on Seong's forehead, shattering against his skin. The touch was cold and sharp.
"The journey will be slow," Seong said with a sigh, the sky hanging low overhead.
Raindrops continued to fall on Seong's hands, his cheeks, and his eyes. The procession pressed on, their footsteps heavy on the damp earth.