NTH 8

“They beat up that guy Soondeok right away, but he absolutely wouldn’t confess who he’d been messing around with, so they were about to roll him up in a mat to make him talk when the magistrate happened to walk in, they say.”

So, was it a lovers’ quarrel after all? Or should it be understood as Yeonyeong’s private property being tampered with by someone else’s hands?

Either way, it would likely be difficult to formally report it to the authorities, and it seemed even more impossible for Gyoheon to get involved. Gyoheon suddenly recalled the man with sanpaku eyes who had avoided Soondeok’s gaze.

Could the person who kicked open the opposite door of the storehouse and fled be that guy? Since the man with sanpaku eyes was also a servant in that household, he would have known exactly which paths to take, how to slip away, and where to hide. Even if he quietly reappeared from some corner of the house after things calmed down, it wouldn’t have felt out of place at all.

But if, in Yeonyeong’s absence, the man with sanpaku eyes had forcibly taken Soondeok, then all Soondeok had to do was confess to Yeonyeong and have the man punished.

Given that Soondeok had remained silent even until he was rolled up in a mat, it was possible that Soondeok and the man with sanpaku eyes were actually lovers. If so, Soondeok would likely never reveal anything about his beloved, the man with sanpaku eyes, no matter how brutally he was beaten.

Feeling deeply uneasy, Gyoheon turned to the assistant official.

“I need to go back to Yeonyeong’s house.”

“What? What are you planning to do?”

“I’ll have a drink with him and talk things over.”

“What exactly are you going to say? To not kill that servant?”

“No, it’s not that. At the very least, while he’s drinking with me, he won’t be punishing the servant. I’m trying to buy some time and assess the situation.”

Without any clear plan, Gyoheon hurriedly set off again for Yeonyeong’s house.

When he arrived at Yeonyeong’s house, even before the assistant official could shout, “Come here!” the gate creaked open, and several men came out carrying a stretcher. Among them was the man with sanpaku eyes. The stretcher was covered with a dirty straw mat.

An inexplicable sense of dread washed over Gyoheon.

“Stop. What are you carrying?”

“…”

When no one answered and they hesitated, Gyoheon ordered the constables.

“Lift that mat immediately.”

The constables moved quickly and pulled back the mat. There lay Soondeok’s body. However, it wasn’t covered in blood like someone who had been rolled in a mat. Instead, a thick, vivid red rope mark was etched around his neck.

“What… what in the world happened here?!”

The assistant official, horrified, demanded an explanation, and the oldest-looking servant spoke gloomily.

“The master said that if he didn’t give an answer by tonight, he’d cut out his tongue, and locked him in the storehouse. But less than an hour later, when the master ordered us to bring him out, we went to fetch him, and….”

“Are you saying this guy hanged himself?”

“That is so, sir.”

Soondeok’s face, with his eyes closed and breath stilled, looked only peaceful. Gyoheon lifted his gaze from him and glared at the man with sanpaku eyes. The man didn’t avoid Gyoheon’s stare.

With his white-glinting eyes fixed squarely on Gyoheon, the man faintly curled the corners of his mouth into a barely perceptible smile.

It was a chilling, unsettling smile that sent shivers down the spine the moment it was seen.

*

Even days after the incident, Soondeok’s case lingered in Gyoheon’s mind. Gyoheon secretly sent a trustworthy person to Yeonyeong’s house to gather information about the man with sanpaku eyes.

“The man with sanpaku eyes is a guy named Gudol, and he came from a neighboring village along with Soondeok, they say.”

“From the household of the nobleman who sent his wife’s servant to pay off a debt to Master Yoo, you mean?”

“That’s right. That nobleman sent both of them together, and even after coming to Master Kim’s household, Soondeok followed Gudol around constantly. It seems he relied on him so much that he’d get anxious if Gudol wasn’t by his side.”

If their bond was that deep, it made sense why Soondeok, even when rolled up in a mat, wouldn’t reveal who the man was that he’d been with.

“Then did you find out who the man was that was with Soondeok when Yeonyeong opened the storehouse door?”

“I asked the servants in that household, and they’re certain it was Gudol. But there’s no physical evidence, and the only witness, Soondeok, is already dead, so it seems even Master Yeonyeong can’t make a fuss about it.”

Gyoheon recalled the chilling smile Gudol had shown while carrying Soondeok’s body. It was not the expression of someone carrying the body of a person they’d grown up with like a brother.

He hadn’t misseen or imagined it. Gudol was definitely mocking Gyoheon.

“Then Gudol must be struggling a lot these days, having lost someone he cared for so much,” Gyoheon said to the messenger, who shook his head.

“No, sir. That guy’s living well, eating well, as if he’s completely forgotten about Soondeok. Next month, he’s even getting married to a female servant in that household named ‘Little Girl.’”

“What did you say? Is that true?”

“Yes. It seems he got Little Girl pregnant. The master’s household happily approved the marriage.”

At that time, the law of maternal inheritance applied, meaning that if a female servant bore a child, the child automatically became the property of her master, to be used as a servant. So, from Master Yoo’s perspective, the marriage of Gudol and Little Girl was actually a welcome event.

But shouldn’t Gudol have refrained from such a thing? It had only been ten days since Soondeok’s tragic death. Moreover, if Little Girl was already pregnant, the timing suggested that Gudol had been involved with both Soondeok and Little Girl at the same time.

“Sir, if I may speak out of turn,” said the messenger, who had earned Jeha’s trust with his quick wit and discretion.

“Your words are always welcome. I’m ready to listen.”

“I’m humbled that you value this ignorant fool so highly. But I hope you won’t concern yourself any further with the matters of Master Yoo’s servants.”

“May I ask why?”

“The yardman said that ever since the magistrate visited that household, there hasn’t been a single peaceful day.”

“Hmm.”

“They say rolling Soondeok in the mat was just meant to scare him into revealing who he was with in the storehouse, but because you showed up unexpectedly, sir, they think it ruined everything.”

“I see.”

“And according to the yardman, the person suffering the most since Soondeok hanged himself isn’t Gudol, but Master Yeonyeong…”

Gyoheon’s eyes widened in shock. The messenger, glancing at his expression, continued.

“It’s hard to believe, but it’s true. He drinks every day, shouting and causing a ruckus. The other night, a servant passing by Master Yeonyeong’s room heard him sobbing, calling out, ‘Soondeok, Soondeok…’”

Could there ever be a love so strangely crossed as this?

No matter how deeply Soondeok loved Gudol, there was no future for two male servants, and besides, Gudol had already seduced Little Girl, securing his own path forward. Even if Soondeok had lived longer, all he would have seen was his beloved marrying another woman and building a happy family.

Meanwhile, the heir of a prestigious noble family, who lacked for nothing, had given his heart to a lowly servant he toyed with. If this wasn’t a tragedy, what was?

“If I were Master Yeonyeong, the person I’d resent most right now would be none other than the magistrate. Don’t you think he’d believe Soondeok wouldn’t have died if it weren’t for you?”

“That might be true.”

“So, instead of digging deeper into the truth of this incident and making things worse, perhaps it’s better to just let it go… I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped.”

Even without his words, there was nothing more Gyoheon could do.

After that, Gyoheon completely distanced himself from Soondeok’s case, and after serving a little over two years without incident, he was transferred to another district.

Until the end of his life, Choi Gyoheon never saw Yeonyeong or the man with sanpaku eyes, Gudol, ever again.

*

Was it really a coincidence that Jeha had dreamed of an old past life twice in such a short time? Jeha wasn’t sure.

Soondeok’s death, like the tenant farmer Chubok’s, was something Jeha had completely forgotten about until the dreams. It was partly because it was a life from hundreds of years ago, but also because, in that long life, Jeha had only met Soondeok for a single day. During his time as a magistrate, he had encountered countless incidents and deaths, big and small.

So why had that particular event been recalled through a dream? And on the very night after meeting Nana, just like the last time.

But since there would be no more involvement with Nana, Jeha firmly decided to stop thinking about it. However, a few days later, when Jeha entered the lecture hall for the Introduction to English Studies, he froze in his tracks.

There, by the window at the back of the lecture hall, was a familiar face. Wearing a black baseball cap, a black short-sleeved T-shirt, and jeans—by now, it almost seemed like Nana owned only one outfit.

Nana, who had been looking around the lecture hall with curiosity, caught Jeha’s eye and casually raised a hand in greeting, as if waving to a friend seen every day. No one else in the lecture hall paid any attention to Nana, which, by now, wasn’t even surprising.

Jeha gathered himself and walked to the podium.

“Good afternoon. Let’s start with attendance. Eunhye Kang, Minha Koo…”

Jeha called out the students’ names one by one, checking their faces.

Nana, with arms resting on an empty desk and chin propped up, was openly staring at Jeha, as if watching a celebrity.

Feeling the vibrant energy of youth in the lecture hall, Jeha put on a stern expression toward the students.

“Before we begin the class, I have a request. Please don’t leave snacks or gifts like this. I appreciate the sentiment, but as a professor who has to grade you, I can’t accept such things.”