I Became My Ex-Boyfriend’s Concubine - Chapter 82

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 82

Rain poured down as though the heavens themselves had cracked open, the drops thick and heavy.
The dusty earth of the Marketplace transformed into mud in an instant, yet not a soul wore a frown.
Instead, people poured from their homes as if summoned by some unspoken agreement.
“Rain! Real rain!”
A cry like a scream pierced the air—one of joy.
Children splashed through gathering puddles, their laughter wild, while adults stood with arms spread wide, faces tilted toward the sky.
Bang Pil-du, the fabric merchant, was no exception.
On any other day, the man who couldn’t abide a speck of dust on a customer’s fingertips, who wielded a fly whisk with meticulous care, would have fretted endlessly over rainwater spotting his precious bolts of cloth.
Yet he threw open the shop door and rushed into the downpour, heedless of whether rain poured into his store or whether the silks he’d treasured so jealously soaked through and ruined.
He didn’t care.
He didn’t care.
Bang Pil-du simply walked into the rain, dazed.
When his hair matted and his clothes clung to his skin, the reality of it struck him at last—his lips trembling.
“Ha-ha-ha! It’s real! It’s really coming down!”
On any other day he would have spurned such rough hands, yet now he clasped them eagerly, spinning in circles with the crowd, cheering like a child.
The Marketplace overflowed not merely with the sound of rain.
Strangers linked arms with strangers, watching dust wash away in rivulets of rainwater, their laughter spilling from their throats until they could scarcely breathe.
Every bitter resentment harbored against the throne, every gnawing thirst—all of it was being washed away in those downpouring streams.
Even those who had stood sheltered beneath eaves could not hold back any longer; they threw themselves into the rain.
The joy that had begun in the Marketplace rushed without check into the courtyard of the Sang-ui-won.
The first to dash into the downpour was Myeong.
The child who had gasped for breath in the flames now opened her mouth wide to the sky, catching the falling water. Even the Cloth Bindings wrapped tightly around her body could not dam the fierce beating of her heart beneath.
Whether what streamed down her cheeks was tears or rainwater was impossible to say, yet pain had fled from Myeong’s face entirely.
“Master! Real rain has come! The lady must have truly done it!”
On any other day, Kang Sang-sik would have struck Myeong sharply on the back, scolding her for letting her clothes get wet.
But now he stood motionless in the center of the Sang-ui-won courtyard.
He stared at the raindrops falling onto the back of his hand as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, then slowly raised a trembling hand to his face.
“Can it really be…that it’s actually raining…?”
Kang Sang-sik’s voice was swallowed by the sound of the rain. His shoulders, which had always been rigidly upright, collapsed under the weight of relief.
Meanwhile, Kwon had paused while organizing the rain-soaked bolts of cloth, standing still.
The fabrics that had faded to grayscale seemed to regain their original brilliance as they drank in the moisture.
He swallowed a bitter laugh as cold rain struck his cheeks.
“Looks like another sleepless night for me. I’ll need to dry all of this tomorrow…”
Even as he muttered complaints, the corners of his eyes flushed red. He swept his wet hair back and tilted his face toward the sky.
The entire world was filled with the sound of rain and the cries of jubilation.

***

Patter, patter-patter.
The sound of rain drumming against the eaves echoed loudly.
Hyeon lifted her gaze from the book before her and turned her head slowly. She gazed quietly up at the sky beyond the window.
For three days now, rain had poured through the cracked heavens as though the sky itself had split open.
“Your Highness, the captain of the Geum-gun has arrived.”
At the sound of the Attendant’s voice from beyond the door, Hyeon turned her head. The door opened and Rang entered, bending her knee.
“Captain Rang of the Geum-gun, Your Highness. I bow before you.”
“Did I not tell you such formalities are unnecessary?”
At Hyeon’s glance, Rang settled herself across from her.
Hyeon turned her gaze back to the window, unable to tear her eyes from the relentless downpour.
Rang studied that face quietly before speaking.
“Your Highness.”
“Yes, what brings you?”
“Though I hesitate to presume, I’ve come in concern. You’ve been skipping many meals.”
“I’m hardly an infant. You’ve taken on a worry you needn’t have.”
At Hyeon’s flat words, Rang lifted the head she’d been bowing. After a brief silence, she spoke again.
“Your Highness. Though I hesitate to presume…”
“What more is it?”
“Is there perhaps something troubling Your Majesty’s mind?”
“…….”
Hyeon fell silent for a moment, then turned his head slowly. The moment their eyes met, Rang bowed low and spoke with care.
“It has been four days since the rain began pouring after the Rain Prayer Ritual. The people are all drunk with joy, yet Your Majesty’s countenance grows darker with each passing day. Your servant grows concerned and dares to ask.”
“……Is my face truly so dark as all that?”
Rang offered no answer, only bowed deeper. Hyeon gazed at the crown of his head for a moment, then let his eyes drift back toward the window.
Patter, tap.
The sound of rain drumming against the eaves grew steadily louder. Like the bright notes of a small drum, and Hyeon closed his eyes gently.
Soon his lips parted slowly.
“Do you remember when the rain first stopped falling?”
Rang lifted his head. Yet for all the rain they had longed for and now stood before them, Hyeon’s eyes remained unfathomably distant.
It was as though he gazed through the curtain of rain itself, into some far and ancient past.
“I remember the day of that last heavy downpour.”
It was a memory Hyeon could never forget.

***

That day, as always, the sweet smell of rain filled the air.
Rain falling.
In Dowhwa-guk, it was as natural as breathing. The peach blossoms never withered, for rain fell in abundance, always.
The people praised their king. They believed his holiness brought forth the rains, and no one knew thirst.
While he ruled this realm, the rains would never cease—so all believed, without doubt.
But on the day a banquet was held to celebrate the king’s birthday, disaster struck.
Or rather, everyone already knew. It was no mere accident.
“Cough!”
“Ugh—ack!”
“Ahhh!”
“Father! Mother!”
Father and his elder brothers, and the concubines who had attended them.
The youngest of all, Hyeon, sat among the whole royal family, enjoying the evening feast together.
The cheerful laughter that had seemed to embody Dowhwa-guk’s eternal peace ceased in an instant.
Crash—!
The tea cup Father held slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor. Before the sharp shards could scatter, blood poured from behind his lips in a crimson flood.
“Fa—Father……?”
It began then. Without even a scream, the royal family fell to the ground one by one.
“Br—brother!”
“Oh Mother!”
Hyeon rose from his seat too late.
His legs trembled uselessly as he ran toward his mother, who collapsed spewing blood.
“Hyeon…….”
“Mother! What is—what is happening!”
Hyeon could not find words. He stared at the water cups scattered on the floor. Between the pools of clear liquid spreading across the stone, a faintly bitter scent rose into the air.
As he leaned down to confirm that strange odor, someone seized his shoulder roughly.
“Fa—Father?”
“Run. Now, this instant!”
“I cannot!”
Hyeon swallowed a voice that threatened to break and shook his head. He could not flee this hell alone, leaving Father and Mother behind.
Yet the hands gripping his shoulder tightened.
“You must live.”
At Father’s blood-streaked eyes, Hyeon’s lips sealed shut.
Then, as though resolving something, he reached for his own cup, still full on the table. As his fingertips brushed the rim, Father wrenched it away and drank it down in one gulp.
“Father!”
Cough—and again blood spilled forth.
Hyeon looked up at Father with eyes wide and lost. Their gazes met, and Father offered a faint smile before his head fell.
“Fa—Father?”
The plaintive whisper had scarcely faded.
Footsteps, footsteps.
“Ahhh!”
“What in—!”
Beyond the doors, the sound of countless footsteps echoed together.
The courtyard erupted in chaos—palace attendants shrieking as they fled, others crying out as they collapsed to the ground.
Hyeon slipped behind the Sun-Moon-Five-Peaks Screen that hung behind the royal seat.
Holding her breath, she peered through a gap in the screen just as the door burst open and armed men flooded in.
“Confirm it!”
“Yes!”
Before the command had even finished, the men rushed at the brothers writhing on the floor. Cold steel rang as blades were drawn, then fell without mercy, piercing flesh again and again.
“P-please… spare us…!”
Thwick!
A final scream, and blood spraying in all directions.
Hyeon curled into herself, drawing tight. Soon she clapped her hands over her ears and squeezed her eyes shut.
She tried to see nothing, hear nothing at all.
It was as if blood fell like rain that day.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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