Three Thousand Court Ladies - Chapter 79

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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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Chapter Seventy-Nine
The Gyeonhwon-gun was renowned for its tight discipline, yet with so many hot-blooded soldiers gathered in one place, trouble was never entirely absent.
Gye-san arrived at the So Yeonmu-jang, a training ground reserved for soldiers with three or more years of service. The atmosphere was far from ordinary.
In the center of the ground, Jin-dol, Dol-bok, and Mak-dol knelt side by side. Clusters of soldiers gathered around them, murmuring and watching the scene unfold.
She was about to ask what had happened when Gye-san issued a command.
“Yong-yong, crack their skulls open.”
“Yes.”
Rather than asking why, Yong-yong sprang forward at once and raked the three men’s heads with the hilt of a sword.
Crack, crack, crack.
With sounds like shells splitting, all three men clutched their heads and rolled in the dirt.
“Ugh.”
“Wait, I see stars.”
“Lord, I think I’m dying.”
Just when it seemed the beating might be too much, it stopped.
Gye-san stepped forward, her voice sharp as a blade.
“If you’re going to drink, drink properly. But you picked a fight, destroyed the shop, and pawned your sword as collateral? What’s this?”
“S-sorry. We were planning to retrieve it this very day.”
‘So they deserved the beating even after all that.’
Understanding the situation now, Yong-yong struck each of their heads once more with the sword hilt.
Crack, crack, crack.
“Ah, we’re sorry! This will never happen again!”
“We were wrong.”
“We repent.”
The three men cowered with their hands covering their crowns, whimpering apologies without end.
“Your Highness, shall we dock their pay by thirty percent for three months?”
Gye-san nodded at Yong-yong’s suggestion.
“Do it.”
While the other two hung their heads, Jin-dol cried out in despair.
“No, please! My wife will throw me out if this gets back to her!”
“Quiet. You think I trained you to brawl?”
This time, Yong-yong brought the flat of the blade down on Jin-dol’s back with a sharp crack. He twisted away, exaggerating his pain.
“Commander, that really hurt! I won’t do it again!”
Gye-san looked down at the three men, clutching their heads and backs, writhing on the ground. When she spoke, her voice was grave.
“Don’t grow slack in the glow of victory.”
Gye-san regarded the lives under her command.
These were soldiers who had marched alongside her since she first took the helm of the Gyeonhwon-gun three years ago, who had crossed the threshold between life and death with her. There was no one for whom she felt no tenderness.
Yet Gye-san turned away coldly. Yong-yong followed close at her heels and spoke.
“Those three will behave, I promise. They’re fundamentally good soldiers.”
“I’m not angry. I was just playing angry.”
Jin-dol, Dol-bok, and Mak-dol served in the Infantry Battalion as shield bearers, always sticking together so they earned the nickname the Three Stones. Their friendships were strong and they trained with diligence.
Shield bearers, standing in the front ranks, suffered the highest casualty rates of any unit.
They had returned having lost comrades they’d endured hardship with, and now they were being celebrated as heroes—no wonder their hearts weren’t at ease.
“But they fought anyway and pawned a supply item, an Iron Sword, as collateral. I couldn’t let that pass without consequence.”
“Perhaps we could issue some extra rations of spirits instead. New recruits have arrived too—it would help them build bonds.”
“Not enough to get drunk.”
“Of course. Just enough to lift their spirits.”
Victory in war and return was not the end of the matter. To move forward bearing those cruel memories, they needed time to repair bodies and hearts worn through and through.
“I wish there were no campaigns this year.”
“Surely you won’t send them out again. They’ve been grinding on battlefields for three straight years.”
“True. Three years already. Time passes so quickly.”
Gye-san turned to look at Yong-yong. Once, standing together in the training ground, they had seemed unmistakably teacher and student. Now they appeared as peers.
Yong-yong had remained unchanged; only Gye-san had grown.
During their time together, there had been moments when she’d questioned Yong-yong’s true nature, but now it no longer mattered.
Yong-yong was her bodyguard and her teacher, and now he was the training master of the Gyeonhwon-gun. She had accepted him as family long ago.
Gye-san’s eyes brightened as she sought to lighten the mood.
“I think I’m taller than you now.”
“You did grow considerably last season. But not quite that much.”
“I am. I’m taller.”
Yong-yong let out a dry laugh.
“No. You haven’t surpassed me yet.”
“You’re wrong. Let’s make a wager! When Sam-cheon comes back, we’ll ask her to measure us.”
“The palace attendant will always take Your Highness’s side anyway.”
“Then what about Geum? We can trust her judgment, can’t we?”
Geum was someone who could not tell a lie.
“Let’s go.”
Yong-yong took the lead to find Geum.
Just then, Gye-san spotted Geum walking toward the barracks with a ledger in hand, and she threw up her hand and waved.
“Geum! Come here a moment.”
Geum turned at Gye-san’s call and approached. When she stood before them, Gye-san asked abruptly.
“Between me and Yong-yong, who’s taller?”
A gentle smile crossed Geum’s face.
“You are quite similar.”
“Don’t say that. Look carefully.”
Gye-san turned to show her back, and Yong-yong did the same, pressing his back against hers.
“You have to measure accurately. Who is it? Me or Yong-yong?”
Requested to be precise, Geum carefully compared the height of their crowns.
“Well, Your Highness is marginally taller.”
Geum raised Gye-san’s hand in victory.
“See? I told you I grew a lot.”
Gye-san turned to Yong-yong with a triumphant laugh. Her face, backlit by the sun, sank into shadow, leaving only a faint outline—bright enough to dazzle.
Yong-yong stood transfixed, staring at Gye-san, then suddenly turned and fled.
Gye-san, left standing alone, scratched the bridge of her nose.
“He’s sulking.”
In truth, Gye-san had wanted to say something else.
That now she’d grown up enough to speak what she’d been hiding.
Why am I even here?
Cold sweat ran down Sam-cheon’s back. She couldn’t understand why she stood in this place where the Secondary Consort Baek, Buyeo Hui, and Tae had gathered together as one family.
If testimony were needed, couldn’t it be given elsewhere?
She was uncomfortable being present as family members exposed their enmity toward each other. Her eyes darted about when the Secondary Consort Baek questioned Tae.
“What is your reason?”
“I sought to create cause for myself to inherit the Baek Clan. I know I fall short of Buyeo Hui. But it’s not my fault that I was born as I was, is it?”
Sam-cheon watched the Secondary Consort Baek’s blood pressure with concern. Yet she asked again with an unshaken expression.
“Why did you abduct the palace attendant Sam-cheon as well?”
“She was with Buyeo Hui. I was swept up in it.”
Tae played deaf, but it held no sway over the Secondary Consort Baek.
“Who demanded that you hand over that child?”
Tae’s face contorted.
It was unexpected—being pressed about merely a palace attendant girl, not Buyeo Hui. And the fact that she knew meant someone among his retinue had talked.
“Did my escort speak?”
“Your escort attendants became the deceased at that very place.”
“Then who spoke? There must be many loose-tongued people in the family, Mother.”
“Are you deflecting?”
“It was done for the family’s benefit. One must cultivate the right connections, as they say. I will not name the person out of loyalty.”
So saying, Tae wore a satisfied expression. He seemed pleased with the answer he’d offered himself.
“I never knew our family had become so trivial that we must traffic in human beings to curry favor with others.”
“It was an effort to climb higher.”
“Is that all you have to say?”
The Secondary Consort Baek smiled gently.
Though she was smiling, a chill crept through the air.
This was the Secondary Consort Baek’s final chance. Whether sincere or not, it was an invitation for Tae to apologize and show remorse to Buyeo Hui.
“What else would there be to say?”
And so Tae kicked away the last chance given to him.
It was remarkable how brazen a person could be. He had abducted his brother and now spoke as though it were nothing.
Moreover, Tae seemed entirely oblivious. He failed to sense the deepening sorrow in the Secondary Consort Baek’s face, instead raising his voice louder.
“What exactly did I do wrong? Did Buyeo Hui die or something? He’s perfectly fine, isn’t he?”
Sam-cheon found herself gripping her skirt without realizing it. Memories of failed moments flooded back, and her fingertips trembled. Had he not been a prince, she would have gagged him.
Sam-cheon lowered her eyes and swallowed her anger.
Tae paid no mind to Sam-cheon’s reaction, but Buyeo Hui did not. Sensing her fury, his face went expressionless.
And one more person—the Secondary Consort Baek as well—observed Sam-cheon’s bearing carefully.

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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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