The Snake, the Flower, and the Tiger - Chapter 84

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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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84

She could tell by the way the child clung to Hae-jeong, but it puzzled her—afraid of her, yet treating Hae-jeong like a friend.
No matter how naive Hae-jeong could be, who on earth was this child?
“Yeah, that’s right.”
“Thank goodness.”
Thank goodness for what? Hee-seo couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer and grabbed Hae-jeong by the shoulders, determined to look her in the face and get answers.
“Ah—!”
But Hae-jeong and the child moved faster. In the blink of an eye, they seized both her wrists and began to pull.
Should she resist? Should she go along?
Hee-seo’s dilemma evaporated in an instant.
“Hae-jeong!”
“I have to go, sister. I have to leave.”
“How are you so strong?”
This was the same Hae-jeong who’d been scolded for not being able to properly lift a pig’s head at the ancestral rite. Yet the strength with which she now gripped Hee-seo’s wrists felt like two grown men pulling. And the child’s strength matched Hae-jeong’s uncanny power.
Hee-seo couldn’t resist. She was dragged bodily through the half-open Rear Gate and out into the night.
“Wait, Hae-jeong—!”
“Don’t come back inside. Don’t follow me. Do you understand?”
Hae-jeong’s whisper reached her ears. At the same moment, a tremendous force shoved Hee-seo through the gateway.
Only then did Hee-seo grab the iron bars and brace herself, straining every muscle. Shocked by the absurdity of it all, she raised her voice.
“What are you saying right now? Hae-jeong! Wait, let’s talk. Hae-jeong!”
“Sister.”
The hands gripping the gate had flushed red from exertion, but the force pushing her out only grew stronger.
In response to Hee-seo’s calls, Hae-jeong whispered softly. There was a wetness in her voice, and for a moment Hee-seo’s strength faltered.
“Ah—, nngh!”
Thud. Bang!
Hee-seo was hurled backward with brutal force, tumbling down the sloped path. The sky spun; her mind reeled.
After rolling across asphalt for what felt like an eternity, she came to rest at the Stream that ran along the outer wall. In that instant, she plunged into the still water with a sharp splash.
Through the dimming haze of consciousness, a face flickered before her—then dissolved like smoke.
Hee-seo felt the ice-cold water wrap around her body and lost consciousness.

***

Past midnight now, Kim Jong-hyup’s aging frame screamed for rest, and against his will, his eyelids grew heavy.
Yet he did not lie down. Instead, he undid the key he wore as a pendant—his constant companion—and held it in his palm. He removed it from the ceramic vessel resting on the nightstand beside his bed, found the slot with practiced ease, and inserted it.
As he turned the key precisely half a rotation, the bed slid soundlessly to the side, revealing a hidden door beneath it.
Kim Jong-hyup gazed into the darkness below, then descended without hesitation. As he made his way down the deep staircase, the door closed behind him and he felt the tremor of the bed moving back into place.
Once the door sealed, this space became completely isolated from the world. He walked slowly down the steps, his hand trailing along the smooth stone wall.
“…Hm.”
This was the secret chamber and altar of the Kim Clan, extending deep beneath the Estate.
Though its appearance and contents had changed many times over the years, the secret chamber itself had always remained hidden beneath the bedroom of the eldest grandson of the Kim Clan.
If Je-seon had completely taken over Je-eon’s body, this chamber would have long since become his. But unfortunately for him, Kim Jong-hyup still owned it.
Kim Jong-hyup reached the bottom of the marble staircase and surveyed his surroundings.
The underground never went dark, and the lighting was so bright that not a single shadow could be found. Even the master of this chamber had to close his eyes to adjust before opening them again.
‘I wouldn’t mind burning them to death this very moment.’
Eyes still closed for a moment, Kim Jong-hyup thought of Hee-seo and Kim Je-eon.
A man who had distrusted people since the distant past, who harbored no expectations—for Kim Jong-hyup to feel such revulsion and contempt toward anyone was rare indeed. The last human he had despised had long since been dead.
‘That bloodline of Jeong Jae-seop’s. No wonder it’s so persistent. The creature was less than an animal.’
Yet there was one person to whom Kim Jong-hyup, consumed by his mistrust of mankind, had given his sincere love: Kim Su-yeon, the sole blood heir left by his deceased wife.
He did not yet realize that the love he had cherished so tenderly—lest it wither in the wind or dissolve in the sun—had become a poison to Su-yeon instead.
‘…From the start, I should never have let her marry him. I should have found a way—any way—to keep Su-yeon beside me and tear him away.’
Like all the descendants of the Kim Clan, Su-yeon had suffered from illness since childhood. Among the sickly relatives, she was among the worst, barely surviving after passing through several near-fatal crises. Because of this, Kim Jong-hyup could not oppose the spouse Su-yeon had chosen.
Jeong Jae-seop had been one of Kim Jong-hyup’s trusted associates—this was before the Cho family had taken complete control of the Estate as they did now.
As Kim Jong-hyup’s secretary, Jae-seop did not shy away from the dirty work he was ordered to do. As a result, he found himself increasingly in proximity to Su-yeon.
With each repetition of their time together, it became perfectly natural for the innocent Su-yeon to fall in love with Jae-seop.
Like a serpent swallowing an egg whole, Jae-seop devoured Su-yeon and showed no intention of ever letting her go. He was a man with exceedingly sharp instincts.
‘If only Je-seon had never been born…’
Jeong Jae-seop knew better than anyone how cruel Kim Jong-hyup could be. He’d fathered a child with Kim Su-yeon before she even fell ill, and so Kim Jong-hyup had been forced to abandon any thought of disposing of him.
“Ungrateful wretch—doesn’t even thank me for sparing his life, and the bastard goes and spawns brats outside the family?”
Kim Jong-hyup ground his teeth, muttering with a venomous rasp.
The illness that seized newborn Je-seon progressed far more violently than it had with Kim Su-yeon. The toddler, who’d only just begun to toddle, would suddenly convulse, his eyes rolling back as consciousness fled, or his tongue would stiffen and choke off his breath. The symptoms were far more vicious than anything her mother had endured.
Before it became the GM Medical Foundation, what Kim Jong-hyup owned were among Korea’s finest hospitals and medical staff. Yet none of them could diagnose the child’s condition, and Kim Su-yeon fell silent.
Faced with a son dying before his eyes and a wife lost in silence, Jeong Jae-seop became consumed with saving Je-seon by any means. He swore he would leave Korea, would go abroad and find answers there.
Instead of stopping him, Kim Jong-hyup brought him down to this secret chamber.
‘Fool……’
Kim Jong-hyup stood with his eyes closed, lost in memory, when suddenly vertigo seized him. He gripped the wall for balance and opened his eyes.
His vision, adjusted now to the bright lighting, fixed upon an altar in the center of the chamber—tall as a grown man. Climbing the few steps and standing atop it, one could discover a stone pillar rising sharply from its center.
Perhaps a meter high. The top of the pillar was covered with a transparent dome, like those found in museums displaying precious artifacts.
Kim Jong-hyup pushed strength into his trembling legs and rose, climbing the steps—and suddenly Jeong Jae-seop’s anguished cry pierced his mind.

—A curse? You’re telling me I must lose my own child because of such a thing?! You want me to believe that all the bloodline of the Chairman has perished because of this pathetic curse?
—No. Such superstition. I will never believe it. I will save Je-seon, I swear it! I will never abandon Su-yeon the way you have, Chairman!

That day, Jeong Jae-seop had taken the punch Kim Jong-hyup threw at him without swallowing his fury. And never again would he expose his emotions so nakedly.
The old man, dwelling on the past, twisted his withered lips and whispered to himself.
“No, that’s not right……. When he begged for his life to be spared, he meant every word more truly than at any other moment.”
Death. The face of the elderly man, remembering the demise of the man who had once been his son-in-law, flickered with a smile that came and went.
Standing upon the altar, Kim Jong-hyup reached out and touched the glass, smooth and curved like a dome.
It appeared to be transparent glass, yet its thickness was a physical barrier that would not shatter even under a saw.
Kim Jong-hyup’s gaze pierced through the glass dome, fixing upon what was embedded in the center of the stone pillar.
The stone pillar, thick enough that one’s arms spread wide could scarcely embrace it, and the ‘thing’ buried within it—barely showing its end—caught the pallid light and gleamed with ominous portent.
The ‘thing’ entombed in stone was the crystallized essence of the curse that the Kim Clan had sought to conceal until now.

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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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