🎭 The Portrait's Truth
The entire court gasped. Lee Jae glared at Cheng Yi for daring to mention the portrait that had long disappeared. Seo Ju felt a wave of confusion—he knew of the portrait, but had never seen it himself. Whenever he asked, Lee Jae would brush him off without explanation. Now, that buried curiosity was turning in Cheng Yi's favor.
"How does a Ming envoy know such a thing exists in Joseon?" Lee Jae questioned coldly.
"I have my ways, Your Majesty. This is for the greater good in accusing a dynasty as powerful as the Ming," Cheng Yi replied smoothly.
Lee Jae groaned silently.
"What makes you think a mere portrait will do any good to this? It was painted not from life, but from the descriptions of those who had seen her."
"That makes it even more intriguing, Your Majesty. The portrait has been treasured and preserved for years, despite the late king's reputation. I believe it is worth examining for any clues," Cheng Yi replied, bowing.
Lee Jae bit his tongue, unsure of what might come next. He tightened his grip on the armrest of his chair and let out a deep sigh before storming out of the court. Cheng Yi smirked as he walked past him. Seo Ju glanced between Lee Jae's unease and Cheng Yi's smugness. Before Seo Ju could leave the court, a eunuch stepped forward.
"His Majesty has requested your audience," the eunuch said. Seo Ju and Cheng Yi exchanged looks and then followed the eunuch to the ancestral shrines.
Inside, Seo Ju observed Lee Jae, standing motionless with a composed posture, but his eyes betrayed his unease as he stared at a covered portrait. As they approached, the portrait was revealed.
Both Cheng Yi and Seo Ju froze at the sight. The resemblance was undeniable. The woman in the portrait could have been Yun Yuhua, but dressed in Joseon clothing. Seo Ju's face drained of color, and Cheng Yi's confident expression cracked. This was not supposed to turn out this way.
"Your Majesty… this?" Seo Ju paused. Lee Jae turned to them slowly with a stern face.
"The missing Crown Princess you seek answers about… her name was Hae-ju. Kim Hae-ju. Her late father was a merchant who facilitated trade between the Ming and the Choi family—your royal grandmother's family. However, the story behind her parents became a major issue for both Joseon and Ming. When Hae-ju was just 12 years old, her parents fell off a cliff while on a trade. He was the most trusted and capable merchant between our two nations, and after his death, no one could replace him," Lee Jae explained, offering what little he knew of Hae-ju's past. Seo Ju froze, the story strangely familiar.
"How… how could they have fallen, if they had been doing this for years?" Seo Ju asked, his voice laced with disbelief. As a prince, he believed he should have known better and recognized any signs of danger. Lee Jae sighed deeply, the weight of the unanswered questions hanging in the air.
"We do not know…" Lee Jae admitted, eyes darkening. "However, your royal grandmother's father was the closest of friends to her parents and carried the burden of their deaths. Out of this guilt, he took them in, raising them as his own. It was during this time that the selection for a crown princess for the Royal Father occurred…"
Lee Jae paused and sighed deeply, "And there, he first met Hae-ju. Stories of their meeting differ. Some claim she bewitched him, others say he was consumed by an obsession with her. Some speak of her affection for him and yet another man, entangled in love and deceit… But the truth of it remains unknown."
Cheng Yi's eyes narrowed as he glared at the portrait.
"What happened after that?" Cheng Yi asked curiously, his voice sharp and impatient.
Lee Jae chuckled softly, the sound tinged with uncertainty. "I don't know… I was told that his first order as king was to search for her. Some say she was kidnapped, others that she ran away. The truth was never revealed. Royal Father claimed she disappeared and needed help to return…"
Seo Ju's heart sank at the words. "Then… what happened after that?"
"Well…" Lee Jae paused, glancing down at the floor for a moment before continuing, his voice softer. "Eight years later, he returned in the dead of night, declaring that the search was no longer necessary… She perished because of the Ming. Royal Mother, though she hid it well, grieved in silence…"
"Eight years later… then," Seo Ju murmured, briefly pausing to count the seasons. "Was that not the same year Royal Grandmother was exiled to the temple?"
"Yes… the very same year she lost her child, her father passed away, and she was cast out," Lee Jae said quietly. "All of it happened within that single year…"
Cheng Yi looked stunned. Not one, but several tragedies struck at once—all under the weight of one grave accusation. Seo Ju's hands trembled slightly, pain tightening in his chest.
"Why would she never speak of it?" Seo Ju asked, his voice lowered as if afraid to stir old ghosts. Lee Jae offered a faint smile, touched with sadness.
"My mother said it was because she envied Hae-ju… but I never believed it. Royal Mother mourned her death more deeply than anyone else. There is something between them, something unspoken. But to force it from her lips would not be easy."
He paused, glancing at them both. Seo Ju leaned in, and Cheng Yi's eyes stayed fixed on Lee Jae's face.
"There's a chance… a faint one," Lee Jae continued, his tone more hushed. "That someone of her blood still lives. A daughter, perhaps. Or another relative. If you can find that person… you may learn more than I ever could."
Seo Ju and Cheng Yi knew exactly where to start with this revelation: the portrait. Yun Yuhua, who most likely resembled the missing Crown Princess. What would they discover when they asked or learned more from her?
Cheng Yi's mind raced as he hopped onto his horse, the weight of his mission pressing down on him. The Emperor's orders had been clear: solidify the accusation. But now, with the dark past he'd uncovered, those orders felt heavier than ever. His hands tightened around the reins, and his heart pounded in his chest. He wasn't just carrying out a task anymore—he was confronting a truth that might unravel everything he knew. His thoughts tangled as the horse galloped, the wind blurring his vision. What was the right way to ask? What was the right thing to say? Every word seemed too delicate, too dangerous.
As Gaeseong drew nearer, his mind swirled in a storm of uncertainty. When he arrived at the inn, his feet felt leaden, reluctant to take that final step. What would he find? How would he face her? The woman he had once considered an enigma, now a puzzle entwined with his mission. And what if she was the one he'd been searching for, but in a way he never expected?
But then he saw her—Yun Yuhua, standing quietly at the edge of the courtyard. Her presence, calm and composed, washed over him like a sudden stillness in the storm. His breath hitched, and for a moment, the chaos in his chest eased. She was real, and yet she was part of something he couldn't yet comprehend.
She, too, sought answers—the answers her mother had longed for, the answers her father had died for. Cheng Yi stepped slowly into the inn, his eyes scanning the familiar faces. Qian'ai looked up, a smile immediately lighting his face.
"Cheng Yi! Did the court meeting go well?" Qian'ai asked brightly. Cheng Yi managed a strained smile, his gaze shifting to Tian Ke and Yun Yuhua. Ruqi was seated at the desk, watching them quietly.
"I need to speak with all of you…" Cheng Yi said in Ming, his voice heavy. Qian'ai, sensing the urgency in his tone, nodded immediately. Tian Ke and Yun Yuhua followed Cheng Yi to the back of the inn, entering a private room. Qian'ai scanned the area before shutting the door behind them.
"What is it?" Tian Ke's voice was steady, but the flicker of concern was unmistakable. Cheng Yi took a deep breath, his eyes meeting each of theirs in turn, as though weighing how to present the truth.
"I believe I have found something… something that may be tied to what you are searching for—your grandmother." Cheng Yi's words struck like lightning, and the color drained from all their faces, their urgency now palpable.
"What do you mean?" Qian'ai asked, his voice tinged with disbelief. Cheng Yi glanced at Yun Yuhua, his gaze lingering on her, sending an uneasy shiver through her.
"She looked exactly like you, Yun Yuhua." Cheng Yi's voice was low, almost reverent. "There was a portrait… in Joseon's ancestral chamber. It was kept hidden, and I came upon it by chance. When I saw it clearly for the first time, I knew instantly—it was you."
Yun Yuhua's breath caught in her throat. "You mean...?" she whispered, her mind racing.
"She's a noble in Joseon?" Tian Ke asked, brow furrowing with suspicion. Cheng Yi let out a frustrated sigh.
"That's the complication," he said, his voice laced with exasperation. "She could be—or she might not be. I couldn't uncover more because the King of Joseon knows nothing further."
Qian'ai groaned under his breath, his frustration clearly mounting. "What? How can they not know? If our grandmother were the missing Crown Princess, then what does that make us?" His voice rose with impatience, his hands clenched at his sides. Yun Yuhua's fingers twitched restlessly, a sign of her own growing agitation.
"Cheng Yi Gege, could it be that you're mistaken? That she simply resembles me?" Yun Yuhua's voice was uncertain, hope and fear dancing in her words. Cheng Yi lowered his gaze, troubled.
"I am here to uncover the past," he admitted, "should His Majesty wish to move toward war… but I did not expect this. The King allowed me to view the portrait, and all I could see was you—an exact replica." His words hung heavily in the air. Silence filled the room, thick and oppressive. Suddenly, a soft knock at the door broke the stillness.
"Tian Ke, Li'ai… that man has returned again, seeking Yun Yuhua." Ae-shim's voice was soft but clear. Tian Ke rose without a word, his expression calm yet tense.
"I understand. Thank you. We shall make our way out now," he replied. Ae-shim nodded, retreating with a quiet grace. With a long sigh, Tian Ke glanced over at Qian'ai and Yun Yuhua. The three of them steeled themselves, then made their way toward the inn's main hall. Seo Ju was seated at a table, waiting patiently. Cheng Yi followed them inside, his eyes immediately locking onto Seo Ju. Yun Yuhua's lips tightened into a pout when she saw him.
"I shall take my leave to the back," she murmured, her voice tinged with frustration, and quickly retreated from the room. Tian Ke exhaled, clearly exasperated.
"You go speak with him. I will tend to the cooking." Tian Ke's voice was quiet but firm. Qian'ai nodded in acknowledgment, moving toward the table where Seo Ju sat. Cheng Yi sat at a separate table, his gaze never leaving Seo Ju, studying him with careful attention.
"Greetings. You have arrived," Qian'ai said, his tone clipped. Seo Ju glanced at him briefly before searching the room for Yun Yuhua.
"Where is Yun Yuhua?" Seo Ju inquired, his tone betraying a touch of frustration. Qian'ai sighed heavily, his words calm but firm.
"She does not wish to see you…"
Seo Ju's frustration was palpable. He exhaled sharply, then stood, his voice cutting through the tension.
"Then I shall find her myself." Without another word, he headed toward the back. Qian'ai remained where he stood, his eyes watching closely, as if waiting for something to unfold. Moments later, Seo Ju found Yun Yuhua, pulling her wrist gently but insistently, his expression dark with determination.
"What is it?" she snapped, her annoyance evident as she tried to pull away. Seo Ju's eyes narrowed, studying her intently. The resemblance was undeniable.
"How is it that you speak the Joseon tongue? And why?" His voice was sharp, his curiosity almost cutting through the air. Yun Yuhua's breath caught in her chest—he had seen through her secret.
"What do you mean?" she countered, attempting to push him away.
"Does your mother speak our language? No. And what of your grandmother?" Seo Ju pressed, his voice now tinged with suspicion. Yun Yuhua froze, her eyes wide as she stared at him, the weight of his words settling like a stone in her stomach.
"Do… do you question me now?" she demanded, her voice rising in defensive anger. Seo Ju's frown deepened.
"I must know," he said, his voice softer but urgent, as if there was something else pressing against him. "So that I might understand."
Yun Yuhua's eyes softened slightly, noticing the unease in his demeanor. "Why?" she asked, her voice gentler than before. "Are you troubled?"
Seo Ju let out a deep, almost haunted sigh, turning away, the weight of something unspoken hanging in his posture.
"It is nothing… I am sorry." His voice barely reached her ears, filled with an unspoken sorrow. Yun Yuhua reached out, pulling at his elbow gently, forcing him to face her again.
"You cannot leave without giving an answer. Will you not?" Her voice was insistent, her tone softened by the urgency of her need for clarity. The warmth in her voice caught him off guard. For a moment, Seo Ju faltered, his expression caught between something unsaid, his face betraying his internal conflict. He hesitated, his eyes flickering for a brief second before a fleeting, almost reluctant smile tugged at his lips—a smile that seemed to vanish just as quickly.
"I am well… Thank you for your concern," he said, his voice hollow. He turned away swiftly, the smile evaporating as quickly as it had appeared. Yun Yuhua watched him walk away, a strange ache filling her chest—a feeling of something left unsaid, unfinished.
For the first time, she felt the sharp sting of his departure, a sense of finality that hadn't been there before. He had always lingered, always stayed. But today, there was an urgency in his steps, an unspoken weight that he carried with him, and she could not help but feel it. Before she could gather her thoughts or speak, Seo Ju was gone, leaving Yun Yuhua alone in the dimming light, lost in her turbulent emotions.
Upon returning to the palace, Seo Ju made his way to the ancestral room. He stood before the portrait once more, his eyes studying it with a heavy heart.
"Exactly the same… She is undoubtedly her granddaughter…" Seo Ju murmured to himself, the words barely escaping his lips.
A shadow stirred in the corner, and a figure emerged, speaking softly, almost as if the words were meant for the portrait, and not him.
"She is the descendant of the lost Crown Princess, after all…"