The Survival Story Of A Fallen Lady - Chapter 36

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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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Fallen Noblewoman’s Survival Chronicles, Episode 36
Before the South Gate.
Beneath the overcast sky, the banner of Muk Wang-bu fluttered in the wind.
Guards planted their spears while porters cinched their bundles tight.
Woo Je, standing at the head of the procession, tapped his fingers anxiously.
A commoner bound for the Imperial Capital.
Leading this long column of people.
Then a soft voice stirred him from his thoughts.
“It’s going to be a long road.”
At So Ah’s words of encouragement, Woo Je gave a short nod.
“……Yes.”
His voice sounded stiff in a way that wasn’t like him.
So Ah studied his face in silence.
“Nervous?”
When So Ah smiled, Woo Je closed his mouth for a moment.
Something heavy pressed against his chest.
A money pouch filled with silver.
Ever since taking it, an invisible weight seemed to rest upon his shoulders.
“……Do you think I can do this well?”
Woo Je, who always spoke his mind even before the nobility, now asked with uncharacteristic doubt, and So Ah patted his shoulder.
“Your calculations have never been wrong.”
“…….”
“This time too, you already know the answer.”
Woo Je lifted his head.
Not a flicker of doubt showed in So Ah’s eyes.
The nervous tapping of Woo Je’s fingers stilled.
“……Yes, I’ll return safely.”
Woo Je bowed deeply.
Then he turned and took his place at the head of the column.
“Let’s depart!”
At Woo Je’s shout, the procession began to move.
The road stretched long behind them, marked by wheel ruts.
So Ah watched the banner recede into the distance in silence.
* * *
The sun had begun to set.
From the overcast sky, sleet finally began to fall.
“Can’t even tell if it’s rain or snow anymore.”
The porters grumbled, their noses reddened as they sniffled.
Though the maintained road kept it from becoming swampy, it was still difficult for a long journey.
Woo Je caught sight of an inn with steam rising from its roof and brought the procession to a halt.
Pung An Inn.
It was the place Hyo Gyeong had mentioned.
Woo Je took a deep breath and opened his mouth.
“The weather’s turned foul. We’ll lodge here for the night.”
Following Woo Je, the Imperial Tribute Delegation entered the inn.
“Welcome, guests!”
The innkeeper beamed at the sight of his visitors.
“You have so many guests already. Will there be enough rooms?”
“Fortunately, we have space available, sir.”
Woo Je had the luggage stored in the storehouse and ordered the guards to keep watch over it.
“Leader, will two people be enough for the watch?”
The guards asked, glancing at the sleet outside.
Who would travel on a road like this in such foul weather?
Even bandits would call it a day in weather like this.
“Yes. Let the rest rest easy tonight for tomorrow’s journey.”
At Woo Je’s words, the guards gathered in the inn’s lower dining hall.
“Will you be dining, sir?”
Seated at a table, Woo Je studied the innkeeper’s warm smile.
This must be the friend Hyo Gyeong had spoken of.
It seemed he ran the modest inn together with his family.
Business hasn’t been going well, I hear.
“Yes, please. Make it hearty.”
At Woo Je’s answer, the innkeeper’s face broke into a bright smile.
Not long after, steaming noodles and stir-fried pork were set on the table.
Light rice wine came with them.
The noodles in creamy chicken broth, topped with bamboo shoot pickle, were as restorative as medicine for bodies chilled by sleet.
“Hmm, looks plain enough, but that umami is something else.”
“That’s because I used Byeokroe Salt in the bamboo pickle.”
At the mention of Byeokroe Salt, Woo Je’s lips curled upward of their own accord.
Not long ago, many people had lamented the scarcity of even a single measure of salt.
“And this stir-fried pork—it’s got a nice kick to it. The kind that calls for more wine.”
“I added some Sanchyo Pepper that came up from the Ye Wang-bu. It’s a delicacy!”
Woo Je smiled at the dish seasoned with spices uncommon in the Muk Wang-bu.
So this is how exchange with the Ye Wang-bu shows itself.
He could feel, tangibly, how the Muk Wang-bu was changing by degrees.
Woo Je warmed himself through with the familiar comfort of good food.
The innkeeper beamed as he watched people empty their bowls completely.
* * *
A night when the moon was hidden by heavy clouds.
All the lights in the inn were extinguished.
The sleet had melted into rain somewhere along the way.
In the darkness, a black shadow burrowed through the gloom.
In front of the storehouse, soldiers lay passed out from drink.
“Hurry.”
The storehouse door opened as quietly as the rain would mask.
Inside lay stacks of Byeokroe Salt sacks bound for the Imperial Capital.
“Move them all.”
They hauled out every sack of Byeokroe Salt from the storehouse.
In their place, they stuffed different sacks they had prepared in advance.
From the outside, indistinguishable—salt sacks, waterproofed the same way.
But inside.
‘The moment they’re opened before the Imperial court, they’ll spill out like filth.’
They held Soil Salt—the same kind Seo Heon had sent to the Wei Wang-bu.
From the darkness, Hyo Gyeong, who had been watching, smiled with satisfaction.
Muk Wang-bu would know nothing of this.
That Son Woo Je and several of his soldiers had come under his control.
They would soon learn, harshly, the price of not knowing how to use people properly.
“It’s done.”
“Then let’s go.”
Hyo Gyeong hauled away the Byeokroe Salt they had diverted from the storehouse, heading for the riverbank nearby.
“What will you do with this salt?”
“Heaven helps us. The rain falls so perfectly for our purposes.”
The salt would wash away in the rainwater; they only needed to deal with the sacks.
“Pour oil on them and set them ablaze.”
Deep in the night, there would be no one watching.
Hyo Gyeong had his attendants unfold the sacks and douse them with oil.
And then.
Whoosh!
The oil-soaked sacks blazed ferociously even in the rain.
Red flames leapt high against the darkness.
Hyo Gyeong’s face was bathed in the flickering ruddy light.
‘Now the Muk Wang-bu will be finished.’
The crime of sending filth to the Imperial court.
The Imperial court would cast off the Muk Wang-bu, and the Muk Wang-bu would demand justice from Son Woo Je.
“He was certainly clever, though. If the Muk Wang-bu discards him, perhaps the Wei Wang-bu will take him in?”
Hyo Gyeong murmured softly to himself.
Then.
“Who says he’d accept service with the Wei Wang-bu?”
A quiet laugh echoed from the darkness.
At the same moment, a light flared to life from behind.
“You……?”
Hyo Gyeong turned, his eyes widening.
A boy stood there stretching languidly, grinning.
Woo Je—who should have been asleep at the inn by now—was standing right in front of him.
How was this possible?
“Your generosity’s too stingy, sir.”
Woo Je pulled a money pouch from his pocket and shook it.
“You really thought this pittance would be enough to buy me off?”
Jingle-jingle.
The sound of silver coins seemed to mock Hyo Gyeong himself.
Woo Je gazed at the burning bundles and shook his head.
“They don’t even know what they’re burning.”
What are they burning?
“It’s all fake.”
Woo Je shrugged.
Only then did one of the attendants notice what spilled from the charred bundle.
“……S-sand?”
“Even if I’ve somehow earned the trust of the Imperial Tribute Delegation, would they really entrust Imperial Tribute goods to a commoner boy?”
He had never transported such goods in the first place.
His procession had merely been bait.
The real Imperial Tribute was already en route to the Imperial Capital by another road.
Hyo Gyeong’s temple pulsed with tension.
“……You played me for a fool?”
Then, from the darkness, more torches rose.
The torches surrounded Hyo Gyeong’s party.
The attendants drew their blades.
‘We still have the advantage.’
The numbers were comparable.
And Hyo Gyeong’s attendants were men trained for years against just such contingencies.
Then.
Splash.
A black shadow emerged, cleaving through the rain.
In an instant, a sharp wind scraped across Hyo Gyeong’s nape.
Between the torches, a darkness seemed to swallow the night itself, wavering.
In that figure revealed against the rain, those who had drawn their swords went rigid as one.
‘Muk Wang came himself?’
Hyo Gyeong understood.
This was all a carefully orchestrated game.
But how?
There should have been no way for the information to leak…….
Then, a blade was drawn from Seo Heon’s belt, gleaming red in the firelight.
Her predictions were never wrong.
Seo Heon recalled it then.
The woman who had known everything long before.
* * *
Rain dripped onto the tile roof.
Under the eaves, a crow drenched in rain flew down.
The crow brought word—they really did set the fire?
Un Jo puffed out his feathers in surprise at the raven’s report.
So Ah, who had remained by the window without seeking sleep, smiled quietly, resting her chin in her palm.
“That’s the sort of man he is.”
When she saw him standing behind Mok Yeon.
So Ah recognized him at once.
A man who had clung to Seo Gon’s side even in her past life.
A man who had spent a lifetime compiling the Collection of Strategies in three volumes.
Having watched him long, she could read his every move with perfect clarity.
But there was only one reason she let him dance as he pleased.
“Use the enemy’s plan against them—
knowing their scheme in advance and turning it to your own advantage.
That’s what they call it.”
So Ah rose slowly from her seat, a passage from the Collection of Strategies coming to mind.

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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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